To New Partners

Who: Jakob and Sam
Where: Eidolon Police HQ
When: Late afternoon

It wasn't a handicap. Jakob refused to think of the sling holding his left arm in place as anything along such terms. Instead it was... a rerouting, of sorts. It was a redirection of his focus, perhaps, an excuse to skip footwork for a week or two while he healed, to delve into paperwork and old cases, to begin the task he'd taken up for Eris. There was still a warped humor there, and it definitely curled Jakob's lips in a thin smile as he reached for his coffee, looking over the field of paperwork on his desk and the long-empty one butted up against it. Undoing my own work, I never thought I'd see the day...

There was a system to the sprawl of files, though it wasn't one that was apparent either up close or from far away. Really, it only made sense to Jakob's particular sensibilities. It wasn't a chaotic mess, instead a neat division of old cases, interviews, files from the vice squads, and somewhere in the mess? Brett Trent's own service record. In the middle of it sat Jakob, busily alternating his coffee and a pencil in his good hand as he glanced to one page, took a note, then shuffled to another. He'd already obtained copies of the service jacket for Eris, but that could wait, and Jakob wanted to appease his own pride by having more than what she'd asked for.

Sam had come in earlier but didn't see her assigned partner, so she'd taken her time familiarizing herself with the most recent case -- Eidolon's recent serial killer -- but the majority of what she needed would be with Jakob Hollis. So she'd wandered around, talked with the Captain a little bit, and mostly killed time. She took the time to run out back to Nighthawk's for a coffee refill (it seemed that all squad rooms shared the lack of decent coffee), her box of meager belongings under her arm, and headed back into the squad room.

It was emptier than it was earlier but this time the person she was looking for was at his desk. Sam hated to admit she was nervous, but she was. Who knew what this guy was like? Yeah, she'd ask around but it was the same. Hard worker, good cop. Well, might as well get it over with. Hopefully he wasn't a good-y two-shoes who'd object to the shiny, engraved flask on her hip. Carefully, Sam set down the coffee holder, carrying two steaming mugs of Margie's special Chocolate Hazelnut roast and set her box on the floor. "Looks like you need a refill there," she said by way of greeting.

He didn't look up immediately, busily scratching down a note next to one name on his legal pad. There'd been a minor discrepancy, a trivial error about Brett's first assumed contact with the O'Malleys, and it wasn't anything that could've saved him then. But now? Who knew? Sam's interruption did eventually penetrate, though given that it was a female voice? All he did was slide his cup in her direction, expecting a refill from one of the desk clerks. It was sexist, sure, but they didn't have many women on the force in any capacity. A handful of lab technicians down in their forensic station, a smattering of clerks and typists, the odd officer who worked a desk or ran for files in the archives, sure. But an officer? A detective?

He finally glanced up when he didn't hear the spatter of coffee being poured or smell the burnt aroma of the station's brew, and had to blink in vague surprise. Was that... a badge? And a holstered .38? "Something I can help you with, miss?" he asked neutrally, "In exchange for the coffee, of course. Suffrage and equality are all the rage these days, after all, and I'd hate to work against the movement."

Sam arched a dark eyebrow, taking a sip of her own coffee. "Mmmm. Polite. More than what I expected but I'm guessing they didn't tell you." She clucked her tongue and shook her head. Expected. Sadly. Make things awkward as much as possible for the chick on deck. "I'm your new partner. Samantha Tyler. I prefer Sam though. Or Tyler." She gestured to the untouched, steaming cup of coffee. "And the coffee I got you will be getting cold. Hope you like chocolate hazelnut." She set her own cup now and grabbed her flask, already forseeing a headache coming on in the near future, and took a small swig.

"My new partner," Jakob echoed without a flicker of surprise, fighting to keep his expression even. He played games of chance with vicious killers, so this was doable, but it took focus. Partner? MY partner? "Well detective, welcome to Homicide," he eventually said, sliding the coffee over with his other cup, "I... all my apologies for the clutter. Allow me." He took a quick sip, one corner of his mouth quirking in appreciation before Jakob stood and began to gather up his scattered files with his good hand. "This seat's been open for some months now, I'd grown used to having the extra desk to work off of. And if you'd indulge me, what did you expect?"

Sam helped him gather up the files. Guys didn't usually go for that, but Jakob only had one hand to work with after all. "Oh, a bunch of things. Dodgy, pervy old curmudgeon who'd spend more time leering at my rack than getting anything done. Young stud who won't let me do anything." She threw him a broad grin and a wink. "Eidolon's new superstar being a total jackass and telling dramatic scenarios of the most epic chase with our newly caught serial killer." She said the last with a fake English accent and a few dramatic hand gestures before trailing off with a chuckle. "So far it's been a bit of a relief. And by the way, I don't fuck my coworkers, so allow me to strike that from your mind before it becomes an issue." She helped him stack the files neatly on his desk before sitting down herself. "And since you said you don't want to work against the movement, I'd appreciate it if you treated me as an equal when it comes to cases." She held up her gun. "I do know how to use this and I can take care of myself." She put it in the top drawer with her badge. Never let it be said that Samantha Tyler was someone who beat around the bush and batted her eyelashes. "There's some biscotti here two from D'Angelo's if you're interested."

That was a lot to take in, though the sum total of it drew a small chuckle from Jakob as he watched Sam, something flashing in his dark eyes. She was blunt and forward, and he generally appreciated that in others. Which is to say that he found it useful in a whole slew of ways. He was relieved, too, that none of her reports from around the station really touched close to the truth of him. "Allow me to return the frankness, detective," he said curtly, sipping the coffee she'd brought him again. "First? I do not bed my coworkers either. It's always risky, wooing a woman who owns a gun, and every person, regardless of gender, is victim to emotion. My work leaves no room for such things, so strike such worries from your own mind. Second, please don't insult me by thinking I would block you from a case in any fashion. Every officer who wears a uniform deserves a chance, and those who make it to your rank or my own proves their capability, regardless of which locker room they use."

Pausing for another drink, Jakob sighed heavily as a passing officer dropped a fresh file on his desk, lingering to flip open the cover and shake his head. "Chinatown..." he murmured, "Anyway. I'd also appreciate it if you ignore such rumors about me. I'm here to solve cases, that's all. If you're here to do the same and I don't have to worry about that flask doubling as a crutch, we'll get along splendidly. Especially if you save me trips out for treats such as these." Jakob finished with a light, good-natured smile as he stretched to reach for one of the biscotti Sam had brought.

Sam didn't think of her flask as a crutch at all, just easier to take than a pill. "If I didn't know any better, Hollis, I'd say you're implying that I should be a 'good little woman' and bring you treats. What, next time you want chocolate chip cookies?" she asked, just as lighthearted as he was. "And yeah, well, let's just say a lot of people like to disagree with you and I used my feminine wiles to get here." There was a small tinge of bitterness, but mostly, Sam was just tired of it. She made it through the fucking Academy and had been in the force two years AND aced the exam. It should mean something and it certainly seemed to mean something to her new partner.

His laugh this time was much more full, though not very warm in and of itself. That was Jakob though, cold in so many senses, barricaded by his intellect. It hadn't been chance that kept him from a partner; most people didn't like working with him. "Their assessment of you is telling, though," he mused, "Alluding to the idea that, were they you, they definitely would've done what they accuse you of. Which doesn't surprise me in the slightest." Everyone knew that a good chunk of the police force was on the take in one sense or another, be it direct payouts or petty extortion or even just turning a blind eye to crimes they couldn't care less about. And while Jakob definitely fit in that list, he did a better job of hiding it to most people. "And if you did bring me 'treats', it would be a mercy. I'm unable to get one and a coffee for myself," he joked, wiggling the fingers of his injured arm and frowning at a dull ache in the muscles of the shoulder, "Show an invalid some pity, won't you?"

"Everyone wishes they were me!" She said brightly. "Who wouldn't? Seriously." She rolled her eyes and handed him her flask. "You look like you could benefit from a sip. I promise it's medicinal."

Taking the flask, Jakob sniffed the contents thoughtfully and fixed a shrewd look on Sam. "Such advice makes you sound Irish," he joked dryly, "You said your surname was Tyler? Not O'Malley?" He winked at her, tipping a splash of the flask into his coffee and taking a healthier drink this time, followed by a bite of his biscotti. "Keep this a secret from the Captain and we'll get along splendidly, he's one of the few who disapproves of drinking during a shift." Him and Jakob, really, though she didn't seem like a lush. And a controlled vice wasn't exactly a threat in his eyes, it was only a weakness if it could be used against you.

She pulled a face, looking a little insulted. "O'Malley? God no." She pocketed her flask. She knew he didn't mean it as one. "Good old American, through and through, I can promise you that." It was the American way to make a good living for yourself, that's what her father always said. "And I don't rat on my partners. I can promise you that." And it was clear she wanted the same courtesy. She wasn't going to tell Jakob about her headaches. She'd gotten good at sensing when a blackout was coming on and could get away. Hollis may be her partner, but it would be a long time before she'd be able to trust him with everything.

"American is simply another way of saying immigrant," Jakob said with a smirk, "None of us started here, but Tyler? British ancestry, I'd wager." Her second comment, however, made him pause in consideration. She was already offering to turn a blind eye? It was odd, but not alarming. Everyone had their vulnerabilities, so perhaps she was just making sure hers would be safe by giving him the same leeway. "You'll find very little to 'rat' on me for, no worries there," Jakob assured her, finally opening the fresh file he'd been given, "And I think, unless there's anything pressing you'd like to ask me, we should make use of this partnership. A fresh corpse in Chinatown this morning..." He turned the file and slid it to her desk with a grin. "There's rarely a case we can close there, the community is insular to the extreme, but it's best to learn our neighborhoods. Perhaps stop for a game of mahjong."

"Never been one for mahjong, actually," she said absently, looking down at the casefile. Finally, something she could work on instead of just answering some detective's questions and being sent on her merry way. "Are we sure this isn't attached to our infamous killer that you bagged yesterday?" she asked with a grin. "I never saw the casefile so forgive me if I'm completely off target here." The Chinatown victim was female, young, and if Sam knew anything, she'd bet this was an owned girl.

"It's doubtful," Jakob replied, leaning a bit to read the report on her desk, "Coroner puts time of death too late, our killer was in his own body bag at that point." And the city had celebrated, Jakob was even betting that Danny might net a promotion for his 'heroic' efforts. "The local gangs out there lead the city in our estimations of human trafficking, but they also lead in not answering questions. All the same, we'll make the rounds." They just wouldn't dig too deep, not if Jakob could help it. He knew the Lotus owned the streets, and even if the Syndicate liked him? There was a limit to their favor. "When we hit a dead end, we'll likely have to file our own report with Human Trafficking. I do hope you weren't planning on days like mine yesterday; we hit more dead ends than frenzied chases here in Homicide."

"So the guy bit it then, huh? Good job." Sam bit her lip and pushed her hair out of her eyes to see better. "Well, everyone I know would much prefer burning down everything Lotus-owned so I've got nothing to help here, sorry." She looked down at location where the body was found. "I'm not familiar with Chinatown. Where's..." She squinted to read the name better. "Xang-Tao's?"

He made a show of thinking about that for a moment, snapping his fingers a second later. "It's a tailor's shop over on 41st and Lennox, they actually do fairly good work," Jakob said with a grin, leaving out the after-hours gambling that sometimes went on in the place. If that was going on there, it was likely that far worse was too. "Of course, so much down there is tenement housing, it's probable that the body was dumped there from who-knows-where. Likely from a brothel, given the age and signs of abuse on the corpse." He rose from his seat, grabbing the rest of his biscotti and finishing it quickly, then nodding to Sam. "You drive, I'll guide."

Sam grinned and grabbed her badge and gun from their drawer, along with her coffee. "Another thing. Whenever we need to go anywhere, I'm the one whose gonna drive. You go wash your hands. No dirty fingers in my baby. I'll meet you out front, okay?" Alright, so maybe she was a little excited. First real case and it was such a nice day outside to drive with the top down after all. Sam didn't wait for an answer, but headed off to her car, coffee in hand.

Jakob had been ready to confirm her question, but the rush of Sam's exit left him smiling in her wake. She was a curiosity, and even if she seemed forthcoming? Such aggression usually hinted at secrets that most people would be very unwilling to share. Which had his interest. Swigging back the last of his coffee, Jakob moved to the coat rack and slipped his good arm through a sleeve, draping the rest over his shoulders before he started after Sam. Let's see how long this one can take both me and the job...