RP Moment/Fanfiction: Drinks On Me
Murphy sat in a bar, she didn't know the name. It was some random Manhattan bar near Anna's apartment. She just didn't want to go back there yet. She wasn't in a mood for company, not really. She shot him, John Allerdyce, the fugitive she'd been chasing for nearly two weeks now and she hated herself for it. It wasn't some big dramatic hate, not a self-loathing, just the usually hate that came with firing her weapon and actually hitting someone. Shooting at a target wasn't a bad thing. No one got hurt. Tonight though, she had shot an angry boy. That's all she kept thinking about right now as she rolled the glass of whiskey in front of her between her hands. This suspect was just a kid, angry and bitter and that still didn't stop her.
She took a drink, the burn in her throat matching the one in her ribs with every deep breath she took. One Police Plaza wasn't happy with her. She was an out of town cop who had shot one of their citizens, even though he was a criminal and that played horribly in the press. One more screw up and she'd be on her way home without her suspect. Murphy sighed, the breath aggravating her ribs and she started to play with the ring on her middle finger.
She missed Chicago, missed Kirmani and her squad, and yes, she missed Harry. At least in Chicago she had some clout. The name Murphy was trusted and people there knew she closed cases even if things were a little weird sometimes. If she was still in her city, she wouldn't have to deal with the brass's distrust or the hundreds of questions that IAB asked her after filing her shooting incident report. It was like Munzer without the annoying picture and her captain yelling at her. She sighed again, it was one suspect, one, who kept talking to her and tracking her down and she couldn't catch him. That really ticked Murphy off.
She was a good cop, good at her job and yet with this case she kept screwing up on this case. Failure never sat well with her. There were a whole bunch of psychological reasons for it, probably having to do with her mother and her father and abandonment issues or something, but whatever it was, she hated failing. She knew she was being short tempered with cops who only wanted to help her. And Snake, who wasn't a cop, but trying to help her any way. She got this way sometimes, she hated it, but that's how it was. She's apologize tomorrow, or earlier if this glass of whiskey put her in a better mood. The shooting was just eating at her, with a little time to digest it, she'd be back to normal in no time, or that's what she was placing her hopes on for now.
She took a drink, the burn in her throat matching the one in her ribs with every deep breath she took. One Police Plaza wasn't happy with her. She was an out of town cop who had shot one of their citizens, even though he was a criminal and that played horribly in the press. One more screw up and she'd be on her way home without her suspect. Murphy sighed, the breath aggravating her ribs and she started to play with the ring on her middle finger.
She missed Chicago, missed Kirmani and her squad, and yes, she missed Harry. At least in Chicago she had some clout. The name Murphy was trusted and people there knew she closed cases even if things were a little weird sometimes. If she was still in her city, she wouldn't have to deal with the brass's distrust or the hundreds of questions that IAB asked her after filing her shooting incident report. It was like Munzer without the annoying picture and her captain yelling at her. She sighed again, it was one suspect, one, who kept talking to her and tracking her down and she couldn't catch him. That really ticked Murphy off.
She was a good cop, good at her job and yet with this case she kept screwing up on this case. Failure never sat well with her. There were a whole bunch of psychological reasons for it, probably having to do with her mother and her father and abandonment issues or something, but whatever it was, she hated failing. She knew she was being short tempered with cops who only wanted to help her. And Snake, who wasn't a cop, but trying to help her any way. She got this way sometimes, she hated it, but that's how it was. She's apologize tomorrow, or earlier if this glass of whiskey put her in a better mood. The shooting was just eating at her, with a little time to digest it, she'd be back to normal in no time, or that's what she was placing her hopes on for now.