Chapter Note: I wish there was more to write, but the fact is that the writers gave us so little McCallaghan material in the first episode that it makes me want to tear my hair out. Have to say though... I love the goofy grins that Luke gives Andy. Eric Johnson is one fine man.
001. Fresh Paint & New Blood
The first time he saw her, he nearly ran her over.
She'd come out of nowhere, her blue uniform a blur that shot out from the sidewalk and onto the path of his oncoming car. He was lucky that it was a small street, and he hadn't been going anywhere above the 20-mile limit. He'd slammed on his brakes as she slammed her hand on the hood, both of them breathing deeply at the unexpected meeting.
He probably should have seen her coming, since the other blur that passed him by just seconds before had been the subjects she was chasing. He only remembered the swish of her ponytail, the breathlessness in her voice as she told him – high and mighty, with the overwhelming confidence that only the rookies seemed to possess – that he was on a crime scene.
Unstated was the implication that it was her crime scene, and that he was trespassing.
He took out his badge, a bark of laughter threatening to escape from his lips at her proclamation. But he hadn't, and he gave thanks for that belatedly, seeing how dismayed she looked when she realized he outranked her, and how outrageous her demand had sounded.
He had been amused at first, then intrigued when she didn't pay him a second glance beyond that. She had been so intent, so focused on chasing the bad guys that she hadn't even bothered directing him further in. Rookies were like a breath of fresh air with their duck-out-of-water routines. But she… she was different.
She was a blast of strawberry mints and sweet lavender perfume.
. . . . .
She always cringed at the memory of their first meeting.
She'd always been taught that the one way to never get a man's attention was to mistreat his car, and she'd all but put a dent on his the first time she met him.
The second lesson – to always be cool, calm, confident and just a little bit sassy – had also apparently fallen on her deaf ears, because she was anything but. Blithering idiot was a better description, since she had tripped over her words in an effort to impress the new detective, and couldn't seem to get her brain screwed on fast enough to form a coherent sentence.
Till today, she wasn't even sure if she had even been making sense when she first talked to him.
She had returned to the crime scene with Shaw, determined to make up for the fiasco that saw her arresting Swarek and blowing his cover. She felt horribly guilty over that, exposing a fellow cop and ruining his undercover work.
She could barely remember the conversation they had about the scene; instead, she remembered Luke's wide smile and the accompanying dimples that had made her heart flutter and the start contrast his sharp suit was to Swarek's greasy hair.
When they shook hands, she felt that tingle of electricity in her arm, and it made her wonder if he always had such long handshakes, or if he had just held on a little longer.
. . . . .