Chapter Text
PRECINCT 41 MEETING ROOM — Finally, you carry the last overweight plastic bag of takeout into the meeting room. The main event -- a large, disposable foil tray of chow mien -- is placed onto the plastic tablecloth-lined surface of what is usually the conference table. Today, however, it is moonlighting as a buffet table. The patrol officers perk up at the smell of soy sauce and grease as you unveil each dish. Soon, everyone swarms around the spread of Samaran food and gets stuck in, yourself included.
SUGGESTION — Organising the office party and getting Angela’s son to cater for it may not erase your past sins, but people with full bellies complain less.
RHETORIC — It’s bribery, but it works. And food tastes even better when it’s free.
YOU — You pour yourself a glass of Judit’s home-made punch. Little red flecks of raspberry dance around the faux-crystal punch bowl. It’s not alcoholic, but it’s tasty nonetheless. And for once, you don’t wish that it had something more potent in it.
YOU — You smack your lips. "Is that ginger ale in there?" you ask.
JUDIT MINOT — "And cranberry juice, pineapple juice, and some lime." She smiles. "It’s always a big hit at the children’s birthday parties."
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Apparently, we have the palate of a seven-year-old with a sweet tooth.
JUDIT MINOT — It’s officially past five o’clock, so while it would be allowed, Judit hasn’t spiked the punch, for your sake. She’s also making sure no one else tampers with the punch bowl.
VOLITION — You are extremely grateful for this.
YOU — Across the horde of people snatching up spring rolls, your eyes find him across the room. They always do.
KIM KITSURAGI — Kim is leaning against the wall of the meeting room, sipping at his own plastic cup of fruity goodness while everyone else has a beer in their hand.
SAVOIR FAIRE — It’s not easy to look cool while drinking punch, but Kim does it without even trying.
EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] — He’s doing it to keep you company.
YOU — Your heart wobbles a little as you go over to him.
YOU — "Congratulations, Lieutenant-yefreitor Kitsuragi." You grin. "How does it feel?"
KIM KITSURAGI — "The same as ever, really." He shrugs. "How does that song you like go… 'life gets hard, but we go on'?"
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Kim Kitsuragi, quoting Ostentatious Orchestrations? Be still my beating loins.
RHETORIC — You’ve only played it enough times in the MC. He probably knows all the words by heart at this point.
YOU — "Oh, come on, don’t be so modest. You deserve it for… what was it Pryce said? 'For your tireless efforts in promoting inter-precinct cooperation.'"
ESPRIT DE CORPS — Even that was an understatement. Kim had reached out to his old precinct and managed to solve not one, but two cold cases from almost a decade ago. Months and months of bureaucratic hurdle after bureaucratic hurdle, on top of your existing caseload. It was like pulling teeth, working with his former colleagues to dig up dusty case files and evidence boxes. At long last, however, he was able to lay to rest his and Dom’s unfinished business.
KIM KITSURAGI — "I can’t take all the credit. I did employ your can-opening services from time to time. It provided us with the necessary leads."
RHETORIC — It’s not as though you needed any incentive to spend more time with Kim on extra-curricular investigations. The evenings spent at Kim’s dining table poring over old notes and making new connections were not quite as enjoyable as the nights spent in his bed afterwards, however.
YOU — "Yeah, but you did all the paperwork," you point out. You debate whether to mention something, then decide to press forward. "It was nice, what Pryce said about Dom."
KIM KITSURAGI — Kim smiles, without a hint of bitterness. "I was just surprised someone pronounced his name correctly. With a 'v'."
ESPRIT DE CORPS — During his speech, Pryce made a point to mention the sacrifice Officer Damhnaic O’Briain had made in the line of duty. It had been a sincere gesture that Kim and the few officers from Precinct 57 attending the ceremony had appreciated. Among them was Alice DeMettrie, Precinct 57’s Communications Officer, who gave Kim a big hug afterwards. It was nice to put a face to the voice on the Kineema’s radio back in Martinaise.
JEAN VICQUEMARE — Pryce had also taken the opportunity to announce the promotion of Lieutenant-yefreitor Jean-Heron Vicquemare, which frankly, had been well-deserved and long overdue. Currently, the man is managing to look morose with a plate of prawn toast in hand. It shouldn’t be possible, but this is Jean Vicquemare, after all.
EMPATHY — You do wish Pryce had picked a different day, just because you didn’t want Jean’s achievement overshadowed by someone else’s. It’s happened to him far too often with you around.
RHETORIC — Judging by the look on his face as he shared the stage with the highly decorated Lieutenant-yefreitor Kim Kitsuragi, however, you don’t think he minded too much.
SUGGESTION — He’s always held a not-so-little candle for Kim.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — And hey, it gave you two valid reasons to convince Pryce to let you use precinct funds for an after-hours office party! Even if you’re not allowed to booze it up.
EMPATHY — You haven’t spoken to him since this afternoon. You should.
KIM KITSURAGI — Kim notices your eyeline, too. He doesn’t need to say a word, just tilts his head towards Jean in an encouraging nod.
[VOLITION - Medium] Come on, Harry du Bois. Fortify.
VOLITION [Medium: Success] — You set down your cup and walk over to Jean, who’s in a corner of the room chatting with Judit.
ESPRIT DE CORPS — Now Satellite Officer Judit Minot, since she was partnered with Jean after Kim became yours. They’re good for each other. The way you two were, once upon a time.
EMPATHY — Things are better this way. You both needed a fresh start.
RHETORIC — And Jean deserves to be much more than the Human Can-Opener’s handler.
YOU — "Congratulations, Lieutenant-yefreitor Vicquemare." You give him your classic shit-eating grin, but hold back on the finger guns out of respect.
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "About damn time," he grumbles, but accepts your good wishes.
JUDIT MINOT — Judit, with the keen senses only a mother has, slips away to let the two of you talk on the pretext of getting the cake she baked just for today out of the fridge.
YOU — "Hey, you deserve it just for putting up with my bullshit." You nudge him with your elbow.
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "I deserve a lot more for that," Jean says, as he looks you dead in the eye.
RHETORIC — The operative word here being 'dead'.
YOU — "I’m--"
JEAN VICQUEMARE — He cuts you off. "I don’t want to hear it, Harry. Not today." He doesn’t sound angry, or even annoyed. He just sounds tired.
VOLITION — He’s heard you apologise far too many times before. Each time, you said it would be different.
YOU — It is this time, though.
SUGGESTION - But he doesn’t want a Sorry Cop.
EMPATHY — He wants his friend back.
YOU — "Well, in that case…"
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — There’s only one thing for it -- Coach’s patented Bear Hugs.
YOU — You wrap Jean up into a hug, squishing him into your large frame. He protests with a squawk.
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "What are you doing, you animal?" he hisses at you.
YOU — "Thank you," you tell him instead, and mean it.
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "What? What for?" he spits, but without venom.
YOU — You relax your hold a little so you can look at him. "For giving a shit, Jean. For picking me up when I couldn’t stand. For being there even when I didn’t deserve it. For everything."
JEAN VICQUEMARE — His mouth hangs open. You’ve actually managed to stun him into silence with your sincerity. For the moment, at least.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — The hug is one thing, but this unmanly show of emotion is just too much for a straight man.
JEAN VICQUEMARE — In shock, he unclenches in your arms, just a fraction. "Are you drunk again, du Bois?" he asks, incredulous.
YOU — "Only had Judit’s punch today. And coffee."
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — It's true. You're not very good at staying hydrated.
JEAN VICQUEMARE — He actually sniffs the air between you, but doesn’t smell anything untoward. He sighs, long and heavy. "Fine. I believe you."
EMPATHY — He’s not just talking about you being sober, either. He’s seen you trying to do better for the past year or so.
RHETORIC — So he hasn’t quite forgiven you, but at least he doesn’t hate your guts.
ESPRIT DE CORPS — No matter what, he will always be your brother.
YOU — Good enough. You crush him to your chest once again, which is brimming over with happiness. You laugh. "I love you too, man."
ENDURANCE — This is getting far too homo. Stop embarrassing yourself in front of your coworkers.
RHETORIC — Expressing one’s feelings has nothing to do with sexuality, thank you very much.
JEAN VICQUEMARE — When you finally release him, his cheekbones are tinged pink. He straightens his uniform and clears his throat. "I… appreciate the sentiment," he says stiffly. "Now excuse me, I have cake to eat."
KIM KITSURAGI — Kim saunters over once Jean makes a hasty getaway to the side table where Judit is plating up and distributing dessert to the Pidieus. He hands you a paper plate with a slice of cake on it and a plastic fork.
VOLITION — A reward for being a brave boy.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — A three-tier masterpiece of a carrot cake -- moist, well-spiced sponge, clad in a thick layer of cream cheese icing. Ooh la la.
YOU — You shove a forkful cake into your mouth and groan. It’s as good as it looks.
KIM KITSURAGI — "That went smoothly," he comments, just one corner of his lips quirked up.
YOU — "That’s just Jean. He likes being prickly, but he’s a softie really."
KIM KITSURAGI — Kim’s back is to the wall, his eyes scanning the people dotted around the room. You both observe as Jean is being heckled by Chester and Mack about your 'bromance'.
KIM KITSURAGI — "Still. Well done, detective."
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — The words send a ripple of pleasure down your spine, as does the look in his eyes when it meets yours.
SUGGESTION — He knows what he’s doing. Sneaky fucker.
KIM KITSURAGI — "When you’re done with dessert, I suggest you pay a visit to the showers afterwards," he murmurs under his breath, so that his words do not travel. He isn’t looking at you, still under the guise of people-watching. "Take your time. Understood?"
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Oh! Is he suggesting what I think he’s suggesting?
ENDURANCE — Your knees go weak. Good thing this wall you’re leaning on is holding you up.
VISUAL CALCULUS — Luckily, everyone is too busy clamouring for cake or going back for seconds to notice the bulge in your pants.
SUGGESTION — Finish your slice of cake slow enough that your exit looks natural, he means. Don’t be suspicious.
YOU — "Yes, sir," you whisper, and try not to grin too wide.
KIM KITSURAGI — He acknowledges this with one backwards glance at you as he walks out of the meeting room, casual as can be, but it’s enough to know you’re in trouble.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — I can’t wait to see how this turns out.
YOU — You cross your legs and try very hard to eat your cake at the pace of the average human being, even though you have no idea what a normal cake-eating speed is any more.
[SAVOIR FAIRE - Godly] Play it cool, du Bois. Mingle with the crowd. Act the gracious host.
-4 The lieutenant-yefreitor is waiting.
SAVOIR FAIRE [Godly: Failure] — You just about manage to thank Judit for the delightful confection she’s whipped up, before you slip out of the room. Your brisk walk turns into a dead run once you reach the end of the hallway.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Pick up those legs, son!
ENDURANCE — Don’t wear yourself out. That’s the lieutenant’s job.
SHIVERS — From within the old silk mill, under the ladybug’s metal carapace, a heavy footfall thunders down several flights of stairs, flying towards the basement two steps at a time.
ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] — In the midst of an office party, two RCM officers in the meeting room cock their heads and listen as the noise fades. No one else has noticed the one-man stampede but them.
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "For fuck’s sake." The newly appointed Lieutenant Jean Vicquemare shakes his head in disgust. "Does he think he’s being subtle?"
JUDIT MINOT — Satellite Officer Judit Minot hands him a second slice of carrot cake. "You know, he’s been turning in his paperwork on time."
JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Whatever. As long as he’s getting his shit done." He takes the plate from her with a half-hearted sneer. "If he leaves us to clean up after this, I'll kill him myself."
JUDIT MINOT — Judit’s eyes flick down to the floor, as if she can see through layers upon layers of concrete. Despite her inability to do so, she knows that somewhere below, two middle-aged men are making out like a couple of horny teenagers.
SHIVERS — Pressed up against a grimy tiled wall, glasses knocked askew, gloved fingers digging into bare skin, hot candy-scented breath between them.
INLAND EMPIRE — You’re home.
JUDIT MINOT — She suppresses the urge to giggle. "I think it’s sweet," she says with a fond smile.