othersdie | IC Contact Post [audio/text]

[It's daytime on a weekday so the police station ought to be open right? Of course if they have an official watch schedule he also times his appearance close to whenever the place might be the least crowded. Freddy's determined to actually finally truly do this. He's been avoiding his badge for almost two years under the guide of being undercover indefinitely. He blew that just last month so now there's nothing left to lose. However he manages to do it, he's got the time to speak to one Justin Pendleton face to face. Freddy sure doesn't look like your typical cop, what with his floppy dirty blonde hair, jeans, flannel shirt, and smaller than average frame. That's why he doesn't introduce himself as a cop looking for a job to the front desk, as far as they know he's just a guy seeking information. Unless Justin knows better.]

[Justin is always at the police station now that Dean's gone (not that he wasn't there frequently before). There's paperwork to be done. A lot of paperwork. And, of course, the whole system needs to be reworked. Dean wasn't one for organization; Justin has inherited a mess that he never wanted.

Or deserved, what with the being-a-murderer thing. Maybe this was the City's way of making him pay.

He looks up at Freddy, removing his reading glasses. The station doesn't get a lot of walk-ins.]

Can I help you?

[Is there a place where Freddy can sit? If there is he's taking it. If there isn't he might have to make space for himself. Fortunately Orange doesn't take up much space.]

Yeah, I think so. [Even though you look hella young, kid. That's okay, Freddy was barely 21 when he climbed into his first patrol car.] Who does the recruiting around here?

[Why yes, there happens to be a moderately uncomfortable wooden chair just off to the side. It might creak a little, but it won't fall apart. Yet. Probably.

And hey, Justin is probably twenty-something if you count the years he's been dead.]

I do. You'd like to join the police force?

I have an intent to join if you and I believe this department's a good fit.

[Squeaky wooden chair it is, unfortunately. His eyes are scanning the area for an ash tray because in Freddy's day smoking in the station is a-okay and he is definitely a smoker. He smells like one, not a lot, but there's an undercurrent of Marlboro Gold to his clothes.]

[Ah, now Freddy has Justin's full attention. He sets whatever he was working on aside.]

If you can do as you're asked, refrain from going on homicidal rampages, and have a skill or knowledge to contribute, I'd believe you'd be a good fit.

[As a former friend of an avid smoker, Justin manages to guess what the potential volunteer is looking for. He nods to a table a few feet away where an ashtray sits next to a pile of of outgoing paperwork.]

What do you need to know to determine if you'd work here?

Edited 2012-07-24 04:36 (UTC)

[The ashtray from a few feet away is now a few inches away as Freddy takes a cigarette out to light up.]

Is that all you need? I mean...do you have guys specializing? You know, homicide, vice, gang units...

[This may or may not be his subtle (not subtle) way of feeling his options for being out of uniform. Once you've been a plainclothes you just never want to go back in it except for being on the make. Of course it's not like he's seen a whole fleet of patrol officers combing the City either.]

[Justin makes no objections to smoking. He does, however, give Freddy A Look that is difficult to interpret.]

We barely have functional departments. If you join, you do what you can.

[Which isn't quite like saying, "Due to turnover rates, nonexistent funding, and a force of approximately one-hundred in a city that requires a force of three-thousand, we can't be picky," but it's close.

Freddy won't see many uniformed officers. Some of the beat cops and old-timers wear them, but they're not mandatory. Justin has never worn one.]

[Puff puff puff. Freddy here is definitely an addict and not one of those self-proclaimed tobacco connoisseurs.]

How'd you get into it?

[Being an officer so to speak in a seemingly lawless sort of place with a face like that, he means without really specifying, not how Justin inherited the station.]

Accidentally. In 2008, a friend encouraged me to put my knowledge of forensics to use and taught me what I didn't already know. At some point, I started patrolling and responding to calls.

[Because knowing how to use is gun? Also a handy skill.]

I just never left, and now I'm in charge solely by virtue of being here the longest.

A lab rat huh?

[Freddy says with a small amount of amusement. No offense to Justin or anything either, the relationship between science cawps and foot cawps has always been one of friendly rivalry for Freddy.]

When I started out on patrol all that DNA stuff was brand new. [Dating himself with that remark 8(] I've been a cop for six years.

[It's kind of weird and yet totally refreshing to be able to talk like this in a police station even to a guy who's not exactly what he considers an old beat cop but counts for the city nonetheless.]

Exactly, but a content one.

[There's been some of that in the City, too. Less so now that even the scientifically-inclined cops are expected to respond in an emergency, but it lingers. Justin's a special case.]

Six years... when did you begin?

[The City's standards are low, okay. Even an academically-inclined murderer can be chief of police if he hangs around long enough.]

1986.

[SHRUG. Yeeeep, an 80s guy right here. Well, 90s guy too, because Freddy is totally up with the times. SMOKE.]

[1986. When Justin was one.]

You're farther behind than me. Advances in the field of forensics only help so much in the City, though; we don't have a complete DNA database, and autopsies aren't feasible.

[Thanks for the age reminder gosh.] I'm not that kind of cop anyway.

[What kind of cop he really is in terms of division, unit, assignment...he'll keep that to himself. It's still a somewhat sensitive subject.]

I patrol. [Even though Freddy wants to be a super detective forever. He has to make concessions sometime.] I prefer partners but I can work alone.

[And it's not just because he's 5'7 and some change with only 155lbs to his name.]

I'm not a cop at all. No one seems to care.

[Justin respects privacy. If Freddy wants to keep the sordid details to himself, that's fine.]

We could use you there. What kind of people do you prefer to work with? [Shuffling through papers, looking for someone suitable... preferably taller.]

Anybody who can do his job right.

[Or her job. Another LAPD officer is ideal. An LA County sheriff is tolerable. A federal agent is DO NOT WANT but he can deal with it. Also no rookies because he doubts he's any good at being a PTO. Freddy keeps all this whining to himself. Oh wait no there's one little thing!]

...Somebody who remembers when you could smoke during roll call.

[If they even do roll call and watch commanding here.]

That narrows it down.

[Finding a partner Freddy can live with is going to take more than a few minutes. Justin sets the roster aside and slides Freddy a form.]

I just need your name, qualifications, and preferred position.

[Ew. Paperwork. He puts his now spent cigarette out then slides the rest of the form towards himself.]

How long do you think it's gonna take? After I finish this.

[The paperwork. He doesn't expect the three months it would back home or even three weeks, but three days or a single week would be nice...seeing as how he hasn't quit his other job yet. Oops.]

[He should be grateful that it's the short form and not the one that the force used to use.]

Before you can work? That depends on how quickly I can find a partner for you... and on when you'd like to start.

How about a week from today? I'm guessing I gotta outfit myself.

[As in his own guns (check), his own flashlight (check), his own cuffs (check...but they're not really the kind for detaining suspects oops). Also it'd be nice for him to finish out July so he can collect his last paycheck at Stark's. Yep yep.]

That's fine. Equipment can be provided. [wryly] If you can find your own, that would be best.

Sounds fair. I'll keep in touch with you.

[He waves the form then offers Justin his free hand to shake.]

Thank you. [Consider that hand shaken, albeit with the sort of apprehension that a germaphobe would exhibit.] I'll see you in a week.

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