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Oh, more people. Hello, I’m Detective John Doe of the New Jersey State Police, at your service.
Good evening. Enigma VanSlyk, vampire hunter.
*Takes a moment to process that. She’s gotten stranger responses, she supposes* Make much money doing that, do you?
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Oh, more people. Hello, I’m Detective John Doe of the New Jersey State Police, at your service.
Oh, well, seem to be meeting quite a few detectives these days. Anyway, my name’s Millie Friel. Pleasure to meet you.
Good evening, Millie. And I wouldn’t be too surprised. Lately, a few police officers and detectives filed for early retirement. Nightmares and the like that started a couple months ago with that earthquake or whatever that happened. Replacements have been filtering in slowly, myself being one.
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Oh, more people. Hello, I’m Detective John Doe of the New Jersey State Police, at your service.
John looked over a file she’d been reviewing today. They had a man who was suspected of multiple counts of trafficking in any number of illegal goods, and they had his location and a warrant. A raid would go down as soon as the man came home with incriminating evidence in hand: catching him with his hand in the cookie jar.
She moved around the precinct, snatching a maple bar as she skirted the reception desk. The receptionist batted her eyes as she waved. Had she really not figured it out yet? Or maybe she had. John would have to wait and see. It took some people weeks to figure out she was a woman. And at least one rookie had asked if she was a crossdresser. To which she’d responded by pointing out that any woman who wears jeans is one, really. She could almost hear the little hamster running in its wheel as he tried to grasp that.
“Marty, you’re on detail for the big trafficking case.” She handed him a sheet from the file. He nodded, and set aside his coffee to accept it.
“Pattinson, you’re on detail, too,” she called, catching a man as he packed up to head home for the night.
She glanced over the briefing papers.
“Hotaru, you still here?”
“Yes, ma’am?” Galahad subtly dropped a book into his desk drawer. He’d finished most of his paperwork, and been taking a five minute break (reading Match Me If You Can) because he just couldn’t keep his attention on his work anymore, and was going cross-eyed and misspelling things.
“You’re on the trafficking case. A stake-out and raid is being set up for tomorrow, so get here early for briefing.” John handed over one of the sheets from the file.
John looked over a file she’d been reviewing today. They had a man who was suspected of multiple counts of trafficking in any number of illegal goods, and they had his location and a warrant. A raid would go down as soon as the man came home with incriminating evidence in hand: catching him with his hand in the cookie jar.
She moved around the precinct, snatching a maple bar as she skirted the reception desk. The receptionist batted her eyes as she waved. Had she really not figured it out yet? Or maybe she had. John would have to wait and see. It took some people weeks to figure out she was a woman. And at least one rookie had asked if she was a crossdresser. To which she’d responded by pointing out that any woman who wears jeans is one, really. She could almost hear the little hamster running in its wheel as he tried to grasp that.
“Marty, you’re on detail for the big trafficking case.” She handed him a sheet from the file. He nodded, and set aside his coffee to accept it.
“Pattinson, you’re on detail, too,” she called, catching a man as he packed up to head home for the night.
She glanced over the briefing papers.
“Hotaru, you still here?”
True. It’s more of an emergency thing. In which case, *she fishes in her pocket before producing a card* This is the number for my precinct, and my personal work number is there, too, in case you’re ever in trouble or need help.
A-Ah… Thank you. /still wearing her facade, she took the card and pocketed it/ That’s very kind of you, sir.
It’s just my job, ma’am. *She smiles politely* You stay safe now.
(via agoddaughterofsorts)
Thought I’d ask. It’s good to remind people that officers are approachable, and willing to listen when you have a problem.
/keeps up a smiling face/ Well, I can’t really think of any problems I have requiring an officer.
True. It’s more of an emergency thing. In which case, *she fishes in her pocket before producing a card* This is the number for my precinct, and my personal work number is there, too, in case you’re ever in trouble or need help.
(via agoddaughterofsorts)
Hello, ma’am. I’m Detective Doe. Is there anything I can help you with?
/…Well, shit./ Uh, no sir, I don’t really think so…
Thought I’d ask. It’s good to remind people that officers are approachable, and willing to listen when you have a problem.
(via agoddaughterofsorts)
Hello, ma’am. I’m Detective Doe. Is there anything I can help you with?
Hm. It looks like I’ve missed greeting a few of you. You’ll have to forgive me. There was a case involving police officers taking up everyone’s time, but it seems to have resolved itself, thankfully. So I’ve been sent back to the hole that is missing persons cold cases, to see if I can spot anything the last detective missed. Means a little more free time for me, thankfully, so I can talk now.
![friendlyneighborhooddeliveryman:
[[John is not this Chic. But she could be this chic if she were a Connie. Of course, then she’d also be missing her bra. :B]]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ll4c3yhdf81qgzbm7o1_500.jpg)
friendlyneighborhooddeliveryman:
[[John is not this Chic. But she could be this chic if she were a Connie. Of course, then she’d also be missing her bra. :B]]
(Source: beyondjealous)
(Source: foodlifelove)
*Stares for a moment before recovering.* All right, we’ll go get some vanilla cones, then. I know a place by the park that has fresh fruit sauces and things you can put on top. Do you have siblings, or someone who watches you? Maybe they’d like to join us for ice cream. You could call them on my cell phone if you like.
Oooh, I like the red stuff tha’ tastes kinda like raspberries but doesn’ have no seeds, ‘s a nice color to. An’ I dunno ‘f I can remember Ace’s phone number, plus I think ‘e’s busy doin’ stuff wi’…. ‘is new friend, yeh’d know ‘f yeh’d seen ‘im though, ‘e’s a zombie, green an’ tall an’ glowy eyed, ‘e’s nice though, dun’ eat no brains ‘n nothin’
A zombie…? “Oh. I think I might have met him.” She recalled meeting a gentleman in full make-up because he performed in a zombie themed band. He must be an adoptive or foster parent, which would explain things. “I don’t know where he is, though. How about we get you that ice cream, and we’ll figure things out then. I’m sure you can take care of yourself, but I’d like to help you get home safely, you know?” She offered her hand to hold as they walked.
I'm a detective with the police department of the state of New Jersey. Please, always feel free to ask for my help. I'm here to serve and protect.
[[John is a female unzombie AU version of {...} from the webcomic Hanna is Not a Boy's Name]]
