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Description
"NAMES"

One by one, the detectives looked up from their paperwork as a stranger entered the room. No one recognized her, and she obviously looked a little lost. She had nearly elbow-length light brown hair that shone in the fluorescent lights. Her eyes, currently taking in the scenery, were a ghostly, iridescent grey. In her thin, freckled arms, she clutched a small cardboard box.
Detective Dr. William Hurt leaned back in his chair and poked his head around the small dividing wall between cubicles. "Hey Ralphie, anyone tell you about the girl?" He nodded in the direction of the stranger.
The man in the cubicle beside William's glanced at the younger detective, folded his arms across his broad chest and shook his head. "Nope," Detective Ralph Summerland replied, "I ain't heard a thing 'bout no girl." He paused a moment, then added to his earlier statement. "Least, I ain't heard a thing 'bout no girl that look like that one there. Now, that one girl found up near Raymond Street, now, I been hearin' a lot 'bout that'un."
The younger detective made a face. "C'mon Ralphie, you know I don't like talking about that one." The girl's body had been found with head severed and wrists slit. They'd caught the killer, but the memory of her mangled body would forever be imprinted in young Dr. Hurt's mind.
Ralph laughed good-naturedly and reached over to give the man a rough pat on the back. "Take it easy, kid, I'm jus' jokin'."
Suddenly, another detective appeared at the edge of Ralph's cubicle, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. "You guys talkin' about the newbie?" Detective Sergeant Allan Cooper asked, glancing at the girl and leaning against the cubicle.
"Newbie?" Will asked, his dark eyebrows raising. "You mean she's going to be working here? With us? After--"
"Thought you were some kinda genius, Doc," Cooper grinned mischievously before taking a gulp of coffee. The young man huffed.
"I apologize for my incredulousness, Coop," he replied dryly. "I just didn't think--"
"Incredi-whaa?" Ralph interrupted, brow furrowed. "Alls I know is that Jackson's got another thing comin' if 'e thinks we're ready for a--"
"I was gonna say," Cooper interrupted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he eyed the brown-haired girl. It was obvious he hadn't realized Ralph was talking. "Isn't it a bit early to be thinking about a replacement for--"
"BOYS!" The detectives were so immersed in their conversation that Captain Arthur Jackson's warm, booming greeting startled them. Cooper spun around, coffee sloshing over the sides of his mug and onto his new-looking shirt and tie. Doctor Hurt nearly fell backwards off his chair.
"Goddammit," Cooper muttered as Jackson continued speaking, ignoring his detective's coffee incident.
"Boys, I'd like you to meet Detective Natalie Abbott." The black-haired Captain beckoned the girl forward, and she stumbled a little before catching herself and scurrying forward, the box snugly held against her chest. She was beside the Captain in mere seconds, and she turned on her heel to examine her new co-workers.
"Hi guys," she grinned with a little nervous laugh.
"Natalie is--" Captain Jackson started, but he was interrupted by Ralph.
"Never gonna replace Detective Hoffman," he stated bluntly, his dark brown eyes shooting a glare at his superior. Detective David Hoffman had been one of the best of them, and had been killed on duty.
Natalie swallowed nervously as Captain Jackson proceeded to have a stare down with his detective. "I'm not here to replace anybody," she said somewhat quietly. She cleared her throat and straightened herself. "I've heard about Detective Hoffman - before I knew I wanted to be a cop, actually - and I respected him. I'm sorry for your loss, but I'm not going to try and be anything like who he was."
Ralph tore his eyes away from Jackson's ice blue Glare of Impending Doom and glanced at this 'Natalie Abbott'. With a sneer, he muttered, "damn good idea, princess, 'cos you ain't never gonna come close." With that, the detective spun around in his chair and began moodily typing on his computer.
Captain Jackson hurriedly apologized to the clearly shocked Natalie. "Detective Summerland isn't always this hostile," he assured the girl gently as he led her slowly to the cubicle beside Ralph's. Natalie nodded uncertainly, and bit her bottom lip. She suddenly had a few misgivings about fitting in.
Jackson cleared his throat as he stepped behind Will, causing the detective, who had gone back to work, to look up rather innocently at his superior, with his mouth slightly open. "Yeah, Cap'n?"
"Natalie, meet Detective Dr. William Hurt," Captain Jackson introduced formally, stepping out of the way as the detectives shook hands.
"Wow," the girl breathed, grey eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly at the doctor's young features. "You can't be much older than me!" Will cleared his throat awkwardly and opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by his superior.
"Ah, yes, young Dr. Hurt here is somewhat of a certified genius," Jackson smiled warmly, leaning his hand down to ruffle the detective's jet black mop of curls. The detective made a face, and the newest addition to the Hasbrouck Heights PD's Detective Bureau had to stifle a laugh.
Without further ado, she was whisked off to meet Detective Allan Cooper, who was now sitting with his feet up on his desk, trying in vain to get the coffee stains off his striped tie and sky-blue shirt. Needless to say, it wasn't working, and he was frustrated, leading him to only give her a short, "nice t'meet'cha," before practically ripping his poor tie apart.
Jackson finally led her to an empty cubicle that looked sort of depressing in it's bare state. "Detective," her new superior said, as if introducing her to the little office space. "Meet your desk."
She raised her light eyebrows just a little before setting her little cardboard box down beside the keyboard and smoothing her ruffled dove-white blouse. "Nice t'meet you, desk," she said, patting it and lifting the lid off her little box to unpack her things. She placed a picture of her Border Collie, Garfunkel, on the opposite side of the keyboard and smiled at the familiar perked ears and tilted head.
Sinking back into her swivelling chair, she glanced at the desk portion of her cubicle. "You know, 'desk' doesn't suit you very well," she mused, eyebrows coming together in concentration. "Why don't I call you … Bowie? Gotta love that Thin White Duke …" Her long-nailed fingers began drumming incessantly on the armrest of her chair. "Maybe Genesis?" Her head tilted to the left a little, and she brushed her long hair behind her ear. "I like that. After all, Genesis does mean beginning, and this is certainly a new beginning …"
With a smile, it was decided, and she pulled her chair closer to the newly dubbed Genesis. She unpacked a few more pictures and a small poster of the Beatles before eyeing her attempts to spice up the drab grey that was her cubicle. When she turned and tried to swivel in her chair, she whacked her knee accidentally on the desk.
"Dammit!" She swore under her breath, gritting her teeth harshly and fixing her desk with a Death Glare from Hell. "Of course you realize, this means war." With a huff and a quick exit, she went off to get herself a cup of Cop Shop Grotesque coffee, silently wondering if this job was really worth getting beat up by her desk.
After dumping half the sugar dispenser into her mug and taking a few swigs, she decided it was.

Description
"NAMES"

One by one, the detectives looked up from their paperwork as a stranger entered the room. No one recognized her, and she obviously looked a little lost. She had nearly elbow-length light brown hair that shone in the fluorescent lights. Her eyes, currently taking in the scenery, were a ghostly, iridescent grey. In her thin, freckled arms, she clutched a small cardboard box.
Detective Dr. William Hurt leaned back in his chair and poked his head around the small dividing wall between cubicles. "Hey Ralphie, anyone tell you about the girl?" He nodded in the direction of the stranger.
The man in the cubicle beside William's glanced at the younger detective, folded his arms across his broad chest and shook his head. "Nope," Detective Ralph Summerland replied, "I ain't heard a thing 'bout no girl." He paused a moment, then added to his earlier statement. "Least, I ain't heard a thing 'bout no girl that look like that one there. Now, that one girl found up near Raymond Street, now, I been hearin' a lot 'bout that'un."
The younger detective made a face. "C'mon Ralphie, you know I don't like talking about that one." The girl's body had been found with head severed and wrists slit. They'd caught the killer, but the memory of her mangled body would forever be imprinted in young Dr. Hurt's mind.
Ralph laughed good-naturedly and reached over to give the man a rough pat on the back. "Take it easy, kid, I'm jus' jokin'."
Suddenly, another detective appeared at the edge of Ralph's cubicle, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. "You guys talkin' about the newbie?" Detective Sergeant Allan Cooper asked, glancing at the girl and leaning against the cubicle.
"Newbie?" Will asked, his dark eyebrows raising. "You mean she's going to be working here? With us? After--"
"Thought you were some kinda genius, Doc," Cooper grinned mischievously before taking a gulp of coffee. The young man huffed.
"I apologize for my incredulousness, Coop," he replied dryly. "I just didn't think--"
"Incredi-whaa?" Ralph interrupted, brow furrowed. "Alls I know is that Jackson's got another thing comin' if 'e thinks we're ready for a--"
"I was gonna say," Cooper interrupted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he eyed the brown-haired girl. It was obvious he hadn't realized Ralph was talking. "Isn't it a bit early to be thinking about a replacement for--"
"BOYS!" The detectives were so immersed in their conversation that Captain Arthur Jackson's warm, booming greeting startled them. Cooper spun around, coffee sloshing over the sides of his mug and onto his new-looking shirt and tie. Doctor Hurt nearly fell backwards off his chair.
"Goddammit," Cooper muttered as Jackson continued speaking, ignoring his detective's coffee incident.
"Boys, I'd like you to meet Detective Natalie Abbott." The black-haired Captain beckoned the girl forward, and she stumbled a little before catching herself and scurrying forward, the box snugly held against her chest. She was beside the Captain in mere seconds, and she turned on her heel to examine her new co-workers.
"Hi guys," she grinned with a little nervous laugh.
"Natalie is--" Captain Jackson started, but he was interrupted by Ralph.
"Never gonna replace Detective Hoffman," he stated bluntly, his dark brown eyes shooting a glare at his superior. Detective David Hoffman had been one of the best of them, and had been killed on duty.
Natalie swallowed nervously as Captain Jackson proceeded to have a stare down with his detective. "I'm not here to replace anybody," she said somewhat quietly. She cleared her throat and straightened herself. "I've heard about Detective Hoffman - before I knew I wanted to be a cop, actually - and I respected him. I'm sorry for your loss, but I'm not going to try and be anything like who he was."
Ralph tore his eyes away from Jackson's ice blue Glare of Impending Doom and glanced at this 'Natalie Abbott'. With a sneer, he muttered, "damn good idea, princess, 'cos you ain't never gonna come close." With that, the detective spun around in his chair and began moodily typing on his computer.
Captain Jackson hurriedly apologized to the clearly shocked Natalie. "Detective Summerland isn't always this hostile," he assured the girl gently as he led her slowly to the cubicle beside Ralph's. Natalie nodded uncertainly, and bit her bottom lip. She suddenly had a few misgivings about fitting in.
Jackson cleared his throat as he stepped behind Will, causing the detective, who had gone back to work, to look up rather innocently at his superior, with his mouth slightly open. "Yeah, Cap'n?"
"Natalie, meet Detective Dr. William Hurt," Captain Jackson introduced formally, stepping out of the way as the detectives shook hands.
"Wow," the girl breathed, grey eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly at the doctor's young features. "You can't be much older than me!" Will cleared his throat awkwardly and opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by his superior.
"Ah, yes, young Dr. Hurt here is somewhat of a certified genius," Jackson smiled warmly, leaning his hand down to ruffle the detective's jet black mop of curls. The detective made a face, and the newest addition to the Hasbrouck Heights PD's Detective Bureau had to stifle a laugh.
Without further ado, she was whisked off to meet Detective Allan Cooper, who was now sitting with his feet up on his desk, trying in vain to get the coffee stains off his striped tie and sky-blue shirt. Needless to say, it wasn't working, and he was frustrated, leading him to only give her a short, "nice t'meet'cha," before practically ripping his poor tie apart.
Jackson finally led her to an empty cubicle that looked sort of depressing in it's bare state. "Detective," her new superior said, as if introducing her to the little office space. "Meet your desk."
She raised her light eyebrows just a little before setting her little cardboard box down beside the keyboard and smoothing her ruffled dove-white blouse. "Nice t'meet you, desk," she said, patting it and lifting the lid off her little box to unpack her things. She placed a picture of her Border Collie, Garfunkel, on the opposite side of the keyboard and smiled at the familiar perked ears and tilted head.
Sinking back into her swivelling chair, she glanced at the desk portion of her cubicle. "You know, 'desk' doesn't suit you very well," she mused, eyebrows coming together in concentration. "Why don't I call you … Bowie? Gotta love that Thin White Duke …" Her long-nailed fingers began drumming incessantly on the armrest of her chair. "Maybe Genesis?" Her head tilted to the left a little, and she brushed her long hair behind her ear. "I like that. After all, Genesis does mean beginning, and this is certainly a new beginning …"
With a smile, it was decided, and she pulled her chair closer to the newly dubbed Genesis. She unpacked a few more pictures and a small poster of the Beatles before eyeing her attempts to spice up the drab grey that was her cubicle. When she turned and tried to swivel in her chair, she whacked her knee accidentally on the desk.
"Dammit!" She swore under her breath, gritting her teeth harshly and fixing her desk with a Death Glare from Hell. "Of course you realize, this means war." With a huff and a quick exit, she went off to get herself a cup of Cop Shop Grotesque coffee, silently wondering if this job was really worth getting beat up by her desk.
After dumping half the sugar dispenser into her mug and taking a few swigs, she decided it was.