September 8, 2022 at 7:58 AM

Precinct, Philadelphia, PA

Daniels parked his bike, slung his bag over his chest, and entered the precinct off Broad Street. Immediately, a cacophony that could best be described as a "wall of noise" assaulted him. Two precincts actually shared the same space, so the amount of commotion on any given day at any given time was twice the normal of any other precinct. That being said, Precincts 6 & 9 shared a building that used to be the Philadelphia Police Department headquarters so instead of florescent lights, cinder blocks, and HVAC systems that seemed to do the opposite of what they were intended to do, they had massive windows, streams of natural light that flooded in, and a maze of cubicles that made the place look like a massive maze.

Daniels would take the sunlit maze over the florescent cement boxes any day.

He moved purposefully through the aisles, past the coffee station where a smell not unlike burned tar emanated and headed towards the back of the first floor. The precinct was laid out so that the important people had offices on the outside and everyone else was smack in the middle. Those inside called it the 'Fishbowl' because they were surrounded by glass and predators.

Daniels had multiple predators that he called 'Boss' because he was shared between both precincts. He wasn't sure if it was the case that his services were so invaluable, both precincts wanted him, or that neither one really wanted him, so he was stuck between the two.

* * * *

Stepping around the bathrooms, he made his way back into the detectives' bureau. Immediately, he was spotted by a detective named Lehane who whistled and said, "What the hell happened to you?"

Daniels stopped to speak to the man, who was behind a large wooden desk that he shared with his partner, Bendis. Bendis, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen. "I met with a CI last night."

"Did you run into his fist?"

"No."

"Did you run into your own fist?"

"No."

"Then how does talking to a CI end up with you having a massive shiner on your face?"

"Things happen," Daniels said with a shrug.

Lehane fixed him with a look that said, No Shit, Sherlock. "You really need to learn how to fight."

"I know how to fight," Daniels replied.

"The evidence before us says otherwise," another voice chimed in and Daniels sighed to see Bendis walking his way.

Where Lehane was compact and with a mop of sandy hair that looked like it always needed to be cut, Bendis was tall and bald like an eraser.

"Gentlemen, while I'm flattered that you care for me--"

Lehane glanced at Bendis and said, "We could care less about you."

"Honestly, your death wouldn't affect us in the slightest," Bendis added.

"--I've got work to do," Daniels finished as he blew past them and further into the precinct.

* * * *

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Daniels sat in the far back corner of the first floor next to a room that continually made a humming noise so intense that Daniels was afraid to investigate. He set his things down on his desk, which he luckily didn't have to share, and turned on the ancient computing device that sat on his desk. He could have brought his own laptop, but any technology post-2015 had a way of disappearing in the precinct. As it whirled, sputtered, and blinked to life, he checked his email on his phone, replied to a few, and set about making notes for the day on a legal binder that he kept on his desk.

Voices cut through his thoughts and he glanced up to see two people stepping out of a conference room. On the right, glancing back at the people who were still talking to them as they left, Detective Aaryan flashed one of his pretty-boy smiles and finger-combed his chestnut hair that 'naturally' fell across his forehead. "Don't worry, sir, we got this."

To his right, Detective Sol made no response to the remark, just focused on the next thing. Her hair was getting longer and a few strands of her dark chocolate hair had fallen out, which she efficiently tucked behind her ear. Her dark blue blazer and matching suit set was more Federal investigator than a police detective. Knowing that he was looking at her, she glanced at him slightly and the look that she gave him was the same as it had been for the past six months: Don't even bother.

Detective Surendra Aaryan noticed her glance and joined in. He gave him a grin. "Danny Boy, are you wearing eyeliner?" He then put a hand on Sol's shoulder and Daniels had to laugh as she shoved off his hand and left the hallway at warp speed. Surendra hurried to catch up.

A moment later, a tall woman in a dark navy suit stepped out. She moved with precision, turning on a heel and always with a purpose. You could take the woman out of the Marines but the Marines never left woman. Glancing at Daniels, Captain Gardner let out a sigh and walked towards him. "When I left yesterday, you didn't have that. This morning, you do. How does that happen?"

"I tried to talk to a CI last night."

"What CI--"

"From my Homicide days," he replied quickly. Seeing the look on her face, he cut her question off. "Two people have gone missing from the same street. Nothing happens on that street without him knowing."

"And did he know anything?"

"He attacked me before he would answer. I'm thinking--"

"Please, stop," his captain said, putting up a hand. "I don't care. I honestly don't care about the cases you work on. In my mind, all Missing Persons are people who had the common sense to leave this shithole of a city and just didn't tell anyone."

Daniels made no reply. He just sat there.

"What I care about is paperwork. Because of your inability to control a conversation, paperwork now has to be filed."

Behind Captain Gardner, Daniels saw a petite woman with short blonde hair leave the conference room. She had her trademark leather jacket on, a backpack slung over her back, and her hair held in place by bobby pins. However, no one was ever going to call Clare Porter a 'school girl.'

"I want a full report on my desk by the end of the day."

"Do you want an update on my outstanding cases?"

She shrugged. "Whatever."

"Yes, ma'am..." Daniels replied but she had already walked away.

Clare made her way over to Daniels' desk. Under her leather jacket, she wore her normal navy blue polo shirt with the Police department crest and 'Scene of the Crime Technician'. "She has the people skills of steel wool."

"Mostly just with me."

"What did you do?"

"I'm an ex-Homicide detective who almost beat a suspect to death and has been relegated to Missing Persons. Plus, she was my training officer."

Clare shot him a look. "You still do good."

Daniels looked down at the cases on his desk. "Sometimes."

She motioned to her eye. "Does that hurt?"

"Only when I move my face."

She laughed. "Good thing you don't use your face often."

He laughed then winced.

She reached out and touched just outside of his eye. Her touch sent sparks up his skin. "Do you want me to get you something for the pain?"

But he pulled away slightly. "I'm okay."

A wave of hurt crossed her face and Daniels instantly felt like an asshole. She motioned back to the door and said, "Your girl Sol really doesn't like people telling her what to do."

"She's not my girl," Daniels replied. Anymore.

Clare nodded. "Right. I'll see you around. Try not to get punched."

"I'll try."

Clare didn't look back as she left his desk. Daniels sighed regretting pulling away from her touch. It wasn't that he didn't want her to touch him. It was that he liked it too much.

His computer finally booted up, Daniels started his report.