Unjustified

Who: Danny and Brett
Where: ECPD
When: morning

Danny had seen the paper on his way into work. The newsboy at the corner of his street was quick to point out that for once there was a different hero cop on the front page instead of Danny. He’d considered cuffing the kid over the head for the comment as it had been a while since he’d been labeled ‘hero cop’, but held back for once, handing over his coin for the paper then mulling it over as he headed into work. Brett Trent was cleared of all charges. Danny was younger than Brett, so he didn’t know him personally but he’d been around when he’d been dishonorably discharged, which still felt like too light a term. The guy was a cop killer. A cop who killed another cop and he’d gotten away with it on some sort of technicality. And now The Echo was reporting that the man hadn’t done anything wrong and he’d been working undercover all along. And they were throwing him a fucking ball. The whole thing sounded like total bullshit to be honest.

It left Danny scowling as he made his way to his desk already digging out the flask in his drawer to pour into his cup of coffee. It wasn’t like he could avoid Trent, it seemed the guy had been assigned to Danny’s department. That meant he had to keep his temper under control, which was something he never did well.

Brett had got into the office early, earlier than most. Whilst he refused to avoid people, he wasn't keen on putting himself out there to be stared at either. Damn department - things had gathered pace and quickly got out of his control yesterday, and he wasn't happy about learning more from the Echo this morning. A ball - what the hell was that all about anyway. But, apparently, there was going to be one at the weekend. And this was one of the reasons he hadn't been jumping to clear his name before now. He had no wish at all to be a psoter boy, or to court the limelight. All he could hope was that it passed soon enough and he could just get on with the job. The job that he was only back doing because, when it came down to it, he didn't trust her to keep her end of the bargain, and the best way he could ensure she did was to be in the place where she'd go - to stand very firmly in her way. But, for now, he was ensconced in the department's tiny kitchen, coaxing his second coffee of the day into a chipped mug.

Flask retrieved, Danny tucked it into his coat pocket as he walked towards the kitchen with his mug. He’d gotten past the point of hiding his habit, but there were appearances to be kept up, they’d told him that when he got the promotion. Those words: “Make sure you keep up appearances McKinnon.” He knew what it meant and they knew what it meant, but no one actually said anything. Of course the one person he’d been wanting to avoid was waiting there for him in the kitchen. “Trent,” Danny half greeted, wishing he could leave, but it was hard to do with the empty mug in his hand.

Brett picked up the vibe straight away, and it didn't surprise him. The few people he'd seen since his return had seemingly split into two camps - those who bought the whole 'hero' crap, and those who would always see him as the dirt under their shoe. Brett himself fell into the latter camp, as it happened - both in regards to himself, as well as his opinion of the department as a whole. He was under no illusions now, real heroes didn't exist. Everyone was on the take, or out for their own ends in one way or another. "McKinnon," Brett said, in return. He'd always had an excellent memory for names, even if in the past he'd made out that he didn't, and whilst he didn't really know Danny, he knew of him enough to greet the guy by name.

Danny’s ire faltered a little when Brett called him by name. That he knew Brett’s name was one thing, the man’s name was well known and now plastered all over the newspaper, but there was no valid reason for Brett to remember Danny’s. “You’re brave, jumping right into the sludge here without building up to it.” It wasn’t friendly, but it wasn’t cruel either. No one could say he wasn’t trying.

"No point hiding, is there? Anyway, if someone's got a problem with me, I'd rather they tell me to my face," Brett said, his tone very much opening the way for Danny to do just that if he saw fit to do so. Brett refused to pussyfoot around the subject.

Danny reached around Brett, snagging the coffee pot to fill his mug while he considered the opening he’d been given. He could tell Brett he thought the hero story was bullshit, that it sounded more like he’d greased enough hands to get himself back in the door or Danny could keep his mouth shut. “I think everyone just wonders if you’re going to get the job done,” he settled on, not quite pointing out all of his issues with Brett, but touching on the one that it would all boil down to in the end.

“Bullshit - everyone’s wondering what the fuck just happened,” Brett contradicted. “They’re wondering what the hell to believe about me and even if they believe what they read in the paper, or were told when they got in today, it still goes against the grain. My actual ability to do the damn job has nothing to do with it,” he continued, making it clear in his tone that he included Danny in with the ‘they’. Brett didn’t expect for one moment that this would be an easy ride - he just didn’t care. it had been a long long time since he’d given a damn about other people’s opinions, and that stemmed way back, earlier than his apparent defection.

“Well that’s part of it yeah,” Danny said, ire slipping back into his voice with Brett’s little speech. “Either what they’re saying about you actually happened and you’re a damn good cop that had everyone fooled, or you’re full of shit and just as dirty as the people you’ve been supposedly undercover with. Way I see it? Either you do your job and maybe some of the story is true, or you’re not worth the air you breath and it’s bullshit.” He kept his eyes steady on Brett’s even if the other man was taller. The explanation didn’t sound like Danny was stating facts, but rather daring Brett to prove which side of the fence he fell on.

Added another spoonful of sugar to his coffee and stirred it, before dropping the spoon into the sink and heading towards the door, mug in hand. “Guess only time will tell then, won’t it,” he said, refusing to justify himself or give an opinion on which of Danny’s apparent theories might be the closest to the truth.

Once Brett’s back was turned Danny spiked his coffee with the contents of his flask. “The answer is ‘I’m a good cop’ Trent. It always is,” he said as he turned not quite following Brett out, but hew knew he would and that they wouldn’t be set up too far from one another. “No one’s a cop because it’s glamorous, that’s what politicians are for. People are cops because they fucking want to be and they think they’re doing good work. You won’t do shit if you don’t jump to admit that much.” Again Danny’s tone wasn’t inviting, but the words were honest.

“People are cops for lots of reasons, McKinnon - and not always the ones they started out with,” Brett said, stopping in the doorway and turning to face Danny once again. “And the answer is that I’m not fucking giving you an answer. I’m not gonna walk round this fucking station making excuses for the way I breathe. I’m here to do a job, and you all can judge me on that job. You’re a cop - so use your brain and look at the facts before you. Work the rest out, I’m not gonna wipe your ass for you.”

Danny flinched, but not out of fear. The flinch was there because it came with the idea of punching Brett in the face. Brett didn’t really deserve it, yet, but Danny wasn’t one for self control. He resisted, just tightening the grip on his mug and sneering a little. “Have no doubt that we’ll be judging you.” Danny would be waiting, watching for Brett to fall out of line. Then he’d have an excuse to punch him.

Brett laughed a little. “Never had any doubt about that,” he said, and he hadn’t - much of his defensiveness was because whenever he thought there was a chance that people would be out to judge, or hurt him, he preferred to bring it on his own terms. let them judge him for being an asshole now - at least that way when they hated him, it wouldn’t be worse. At least he’d feel like he deserved it, rather than that he’d tried and failed.

“Good,” Danny commented gruffly even if Brett was laughing about it. That annoyed him as well, but he took a sip of his coffee to cover it. Getting in a fight with the newest hero cop was stupid. At least on the guy’s first morning it was stupid. Maybe later.

“Well then, see you around, McKinnon,” Brett told him, toasting him sardonically with the coffee mug and then turning and heading back toward his assigned desk. They’d ‘ease him back into things’, they’d said - just have to see how that actually went.