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One: A New Badge
Posted by
Wolf2407
,
10 April 2012
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One-shot story of a concept I've been beating around a bit, but can't fit into a storyline. Feel free to use this for your own works. The idea, not the actual chapter. And tell me you're doing it, please. I like to see what people do with my ideas.
Time: 2061, thereabouts
**
Eve sighed, leaned back in her chair, and glared at her office unit.
"Save and hold current files, you piece of shit," she said clearly, even though she was tempted to beat the hunk of plastic and metal to a pulp.
Invalid command.
Eve bit her tongue, cuffed the side of the computer, and succeeded in giving herself a bruise.
"Fucking piece of shit!"
Please repeat command.
"Delete current files," she snapped, fed up with her unit's antics.
Invalid command, countermanded by previous orders from Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, allowing closing of files only in case of fire, earthquake, alien invasion, or an open and active case requiring her attention...
"I swear," Eve muttered, snarling under her breath, "One of these days I'm going to go into Maintenance and eat those assholes alive.
Invalid command. Do you wish to order lunch?
Eve indulged herself in a small shriek of fury, and banged her fist against the unit hard enough to dent it.
"Dallas?" Peabody asked from the doorway, fidgeting nervously.
"What?" Eve demanded, turning to her partner. "I'm busy doing the fucking budgets and evals and all of that happy shit."
Peabody gulped. "Sir, the commander has requested your presence as soon as you are available."
Eve's eyes brightened. "Oh, yeah?" She turned back to the computer. "Computer, save and hold files, authorized by meeting called by Whitney, Commander Jack."
Validation required...
"Fuck that," Eve snarled. "Finish it, will you?" she asked as she stood and walked out of her office, through her bullpen, and began making her way to the commander's office.
What does he want?
Eve rubbed absently at a spot along the outer edge of her right forearm, following the still-visible remnant of a long, wicked gash that had been put there a week and a half before, in an incredibly complicated op that had lead to the resignation of the President.
Politics, Eve mused, is a game the world would be better off without.
But the fact that the President had been a serial killer that had a serious case of necrophilia was tough to ignore, even for the jaded Eve.
She knocked briefly on Whitney's door, then nudged it open, smoothly took stock of the room.
Whitney sat behind his desk, and that was expected. Roarke was working with his PPC in one of the guest chairs, and that was unexpected.
Eve shot him a wary glance, but stood her ground.
"Commander," she said stiffly.
Roarke looked up from his PPC- although he'd known when she'd entered- and offered her a quick smirk.
"Sit," Whitney began, gesturing to the chair on the other side of his desk.
Wary, Eve slowly walked forward, dropped into the chair.
"Your investigation into President Corleone's activities was above and beyond, Lieutenant," Whitney said coolly, leaning back in his chair.
"It was the job," Eve muttered.
Whitney raised his eyebrows. "It was above and beyond, Dallas," he repeated. "In fact, it was impressive enough that I was able to obtain this."
Whitney smoothly took a small document of three stapled pages out from under his desk, turned it towards Eve. "If you sign here, Lieutenant," he continued, setting a pen beside the paper, "we can schedule your captain's testing for the earliest possible date, or one that is convenient to you."
Eve blinked three times, slowly.
Dallas, Captain Eve.
Captain Eve Dallas, NYPSD.
It didn't quite sit right in her mind.
Eve frowned at the papers, and gained a moment when Whitney looked out his window at the sound of a screeching airbus.
Dallas, Captain Eve.
She thought about her bullpen, her stingy little office.
Peabody.
Dallas, Captain Eve.
When Whitney looked back to Eve, she'd turned the paper back towards him.
"Lieutenant?" he asked.
Eve raised her eyebrows, and nudged the pen back towards him, just in case her intent was unclear, as she didn't trust herself to speak.
"Eve-" Roarke began, leaning forward in his seat.
"Quiet," she replied in a flat tone that shut him down immediately.
"Lieutenant," Whitney repeated, "You are turning down the testing opportunity?"
Eve dipped her head, just once.
Whitney stared at her, quite carefully, as if he was suddenly unsure of her.
Eve stood suddenly, and turning, walked out of Whitney's office, not trusting herself in front of her commander.
"Eve," Roarke began, quickening his stride for a moment to catch up with hers, "What were you thinking?"
Eve took her badge out of her pocket.
Lieutenant Eve Dallas, NYPSD.
She smiled to herself, pocketed her badge.
Time: 2061, thereabouts
**
Standalone Chapter: A New Badge
Eve sighed, leaned back in her chair, and glared at her office unit.
"Save and hold current files, you piece of shit," she said clearly, even though she was tempted to beat the hunk of plastic and metal to a pulp.
Invalid command.
Eve bit her tongue, cuffed the side of the computer, and succeeded in giving herself a bruise.
"Fucking piece of shit!"
Please repeat command.
"Delete current files," she snapped, fed up with her unit's antics.
Invalid command, countermanded by previous orders from Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, allowing closing of files only in case of fire, earthquake, alien invasion, or an open and active case requiring her attention...
"I swear," Eve muttered, snarling under her breath, "One of these days I'm going to go into Maintenance and eat those assholes alive.
Invalid command. Do you wish to order lunch?
Eve indulged herself in a small shriek of fury, and banged her fist against the unit hard enough to dent it.
"Dallas?" Peabody asked from the doorway, fidgeting nervously.
"What?" Eve demanded, turning to her partner. "I'm busy doing the fucking budgets and evals and all of that happy shit."
Peabody gulped. "Sir, the commander has requested your presence as soon as you are available."
Eve's eyes brightened. "Oh, yeah?" She turned back to the computer. "Computer, save and hold files, authorized by meeting called by Whitney, Commander Jack."
Validation required...
"Fuck that," Eve snarled. "Finish it, will you?" she asked as she stood and walked out of her office, through her bullpen, and began making her way to the commander's office.
What does he want?
Eve rubbed absently at a spot along the outer edge of her right forearm, following the still-visible remnant of a long, wicked gash that had been put there a week and a half before, in an incredibly complicated op that had lead to the resignation of the President.
Politics, Eve mused, is a game the world would be better off without.
But the fact that the President had been a serial killer that had a serious case of necrophilia was tough to ignore, even for the jaded Eve.
She knocked briefly on Whitney's door, then nudged it open, smoothly took stock of the room.
Whitney sat behind his desk, and that was expected. Roarke was working with his PPC in one of the guest chairs, and that was unexpected.
Eve shot him a wary glance, but stood her ground.
"Commander," she said stiffly.
Roarke looked up from his PPC- although he'd known when she'd entered- and offered her a quick smirk.
"Sit," Whitney began, gesturing to the chair on the other side of his desk.
Wary, Eve slowly walked forward, dropped into the chair.
"Your investigation into President Corleone's activities was above and beyond, Lieutenant," Whitney said coolly, leaning back in his chair.
"It was the job," Eve muttered.
Whitney raised his eyebrows. "It was above and beyond, Dallas," he repeated. "In fact, it was impressive enough that I was able to obtain this."
Whitney smoothly took a small document of three stapled pages out from under his desk, turned it towards Eve. "If you sign here, Lieutenant," he continued, setting a pen beside the paper, "we can schedule your captain's testing for the earliest possible date, or one that is convenient to you."
Eve blinked three times, slowly.
Dallas, Captain Eve.
Captain Eve Dallas, NYPSD.
It didn't quite sit right in her mind.
Eve frowned at the papers, and gained a moment when Whitney looked out his window at the sound of a screeching airbus.
Dallas, Captain Eve.
She thought about her bullpen, her stingy little office.
Peabody.
Dallas, Captain Eve.
When Whitney looked back to Eve, she'd turned the paper back towards him.
"Lieutenant?" he asked.
Eve raised her eyebrows, and nudged the pen back towards him, just in case her intent was unclear, as she didn't trust herself to speak.
"Eve-" Roarke began, leaning forward in his seat.
"Quiet," she replied in a flat tone that shut him down immediately.
"Lieutenant," Whitney repeated, "You are turning down the testing opportunity?"
Eve dipped her head, just once.
Whitney stared at her, quite carefully, as if he was suddenly unsure of her.
Eve stood suddenly, and turning, walked out of Whitney's office, not trusting herself in front of her commander.
"Eve," Roarke began, quickening his stride for a moment to catch up with hers, "What were you thinking?"
Eve took her badge out of her pocket.
Lieutenant Eve Dallas, NYPSD.
She smiled to herself, pocketed her badge.
It felt exactly right.
