[WM] Application: 29.1.E - Jumping Off Point
"I need your help. I’ve got more dead bodies turning up and the only thing that comes close to this case was the one you worked on before."
“You forget, Jordy...I was still a cop when the Gunner was out and about.” Artie pointed out cheerfully. “Was being the operative word.”
“What about this one, Daddy?”
Artie narrowed his eyes at the dress his daughter brought before him for inspection, then snorted. “Lovely, toots...where’s the rest of it?”
“Daddy!”
“Baby doll, I love you, but if I’m buying you a dress for this shindig at the Mayor’s office, I’m buying you a whole dress, not one of those pieces of underclothing they call ‘clothes’ nowadays. Try again.”
Irene huffed, narrowing her eyes at Detective Jordan Miller where he stood beside her father. “Are you trying to get Daddy on the Riverside shootings again.”
“Yes, ma’am, Miss Jackson.”
“Well, piss off. He’s retired...oh, wait, I’m sorry, he got fired for his fangs.”
Artie grinned, even as he rolled his eyes. “Reenie, baby? Save it for the squad, huh? Go pick out a dress.”
As Irene glared, huffed, and stormed off again, Jordan returned to his pleading. “Artie, you know how hard it’s been the last five years. The department’s losing ground with all these cold cases coming back up for review due to Paranormal involvement. We can’t placate the public, and we’re not equipped to handle these Freak Shows--”
“Choose another word, unless you want to be the next blue plate special, kid.” Artie snarled tersely, watching his daughter scour the racks of Sears for something to wear to the upcoming awards ceremony he was attending at the Mayor’s office.
“Sorry...Paranormal crimes...”
“Better. Go on.”
“We’re not equipped to handle these kinds of perps...we got guys reading our thoughts, calling guys on crap and weaseling their way around every goddamn step of the process. Procedure don’t work, and if we deviate we get called on it.” Jordan pressed. “Now you’ve openly admitted to nabbing a lot of gifted perps pre-Uprising...”
“Using my abilities, bub...the ones that, as my daughter reminded you, got me fired? Don’t forget that.” Artie added cooly, narrowing his eyes across the store. “Irene Jackson, put that rag down! I’m not paying for that nonsense!”
“Stubborn, stupid old man!”
“You’re not too big for me to turn over my knee, you brat!” he shot back, growling as he gave Jordan his attention again. “Listen, kid...I’m not interested. If the department don’t want me, they can’t have me. No chance in holy hell you’re gonna have it both ways.”
Artie was about to walk away when he felt Jordan’s grip on his arm...good and strong, but human and totally ineffectual against his strength. Still, he let it hold him, turning to face the other man with a stern look and finding real fear in Jordan’s face...real fear, but real determination.
“I’m not asking you as an officer of the LAPD, Jacko...I’m asking you as a man, and as a cop.”
“Listen, kid--”
“You can protest all you want, but you’re a cop just like me.” Jordan snapped quietly. “There’s three reasons you join the force...the money, the uniform, or the cause. Dirty cops get paid, bad cops flash the badge, and heroes deal with the lousy pay, miserable hours, and shit treatment because they’re actually interested in doing some good. I think you’re one of the heroes, Jackson. Real deal, honest Injun hero cop with some faith left in what the shield actually means. And if I’m wrong...a killer’s still gonna be roaming the city. If I’m right, though...”
“Just shut up and give me the file already.” Artie growled, cutting him off. Damn him...he hated the stupid boy for being there and being honest, but above all for being right. Compulsive retirement wasn’t suiting him at all, and the wheels of the civil rights machine were turning just fine without him after five years.
He was never happy anymore unless he was at home, monitoring the police frequencies on his scanner.
Jordan smiled as he handed Artie the file, and as he opened it to start perusing the case file, he couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement...the kind that always came at the start of the chase.
He didn’t know if hero cop suited him...but Artie couldn’t hide from the fact that a cop was exactly what he was...and it was what he always would be.
Muse: Artie Jackson
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 761
“You forget, Jordy...I was still a cop when the Gunner was out and about.” Artie pointed out cheerfully. “Was being the operative word.”
“What about this one, Daddy?”
Artie narrowed his eyes at the dress his daughter brought before him for inspection, then snorted. “Lovely, toots...where’s the rest of it?”
“Daddy!”
“Baby doll, I love you, but if I’m buying you a dress for this shindig at the Mayor’s office, I’m buying you a whole dress, not one of those pieces of underclothing they call ‘clothes’ nowadays. Try again.”
Irene huffed, narrowing her eyes at Detective Jordan Miller where he stood beside her father. “Are you trying to get Daddy on the Riverside shootings again.”
“Yes, ma’am, Miss Jackson.”
“Well, piss off. He’s retired...oh, wait, I’m sorry, he got fired for his fangs.”
Artie grinned, even as he rolled his eyes. “Reenie, baby? Save it for the squad, huh? Go pick out a dress.”
As Irene glared, huffed, and stormed off again, Jordan returned to his pleading. “Artie, you know how hard it’s been the last five years. The department’s losing ground with all these cold cases coming back up for review due to Paranormal involvement. We can’t placate the public, and we’re not equipped to handle these Freak Shows--”
“Choose another word, unless you want to be the next blue plate special, kid.” Artie snarled tersely, watching his daughter scour the racks of Sears for something to wear to the upcoming awards ceremony he was attending at the Mayor’s office.
“Sorry...Paranormal crimes...”
“Better. Go on.”
“We’re not equipped to handle these kinds of perps...we got guys reading our thoughts, calling guys on crap and weaseling their way around every goddamn step of the process. Procedure don’t work, and if we deviate we get called on it.” Jordan pressed. “Now you’ve openly admitted to nabbing a lot of gifted perps pre-Uprising...”
“Using my abilities, bub...the ones that, as my daughter reminded you, got me fired? Don’t forget that.” Artie added cooly, narrowing his eyes across the store. “Irene Jackson, put that rag down! I’m not paying for that nonsense!”
“Stubborn, stupid old man!”
“You’re not too big for me to turn over my knee, you brat!” he shot back, growling as he gave Jordan his attention again. “Listen, kid...I’m not interested. If the department don’t want me, they can’t have me. No chance in holy hell you’re gonna have it both ways.”
Artie was about to walk away when he felt Jordan’s grip on his arm...good and strong, but human and totally ineffectual against his strength. Still, he let it hold him, turning to face the other man with a stern look and finding real fear in Jordan’s face...real fear, but real determination.
“I’m not asking you as an officer of the LAPD, Jacko...I’m asking you as a man, and as a cop.”
“Listen, kid--”
“You can protest all you want, but you’re a cop just like me.” Jordan snapped quietly. “There’s three reasons you join the force...the money, the uniform, or the cause. Dirty cops get paid, bad cops flash the badge, and heroes deal with the lousy pay, miserable hours, and shit treatment because they’re actually interested in doing some good. I think you’re one of the heroes, Jackson. Real deal, honest Injun hero cop with some faith left in what the shield actually means. And if I’m wrong...a killer’s still gonna be roaming the city. If I’m right, though...”
“Just shut up and give me the file already.” Artie growled, cutting him off. Damn him...he hated the stupid boy for being there and being honest, but above all for being right. Compulsive retirement wasn’t suiting him at all, and the wheels of the civil rights machine were turning just fine without him after five years.
He was never happy anymore unless he was at home, monitoring the police frequencies on his scanner.
Jordan smiled as he handed Artie the file, and as he opened it to start perusing the case file, he couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement...the kind that always came at the start of the chase.
He didn’t know if hero cop suited him...but Artie couldn’t hide from the fact that a cop was exactly what he was...and it was what he always would be.
Muse: Artie Jackson
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 761