Detective Lionel Fusco leaned back in his desk chair and closed his eyes wearily. However much he disliked writing reports and filling out paperwork, he was glad that Wonderboy hadn't called lately with another impossible assignment that could get him killed... or sacked by Internal Affairs. Much to his pleasure, it had been positively peaceful in the precinct for the last few days, if such a thing were possible for a Homicide Task Force.
Of course, that usually meant that something was about to go terribly, horribly wrong for him. He was a bit philosophical about it at this point; no doubt Wonderboy or his friend with the glasses would call at any minute, and he'd have to go off on some seemingly-arbitrary job, following someone, or maybe planting evidence, or "borrowing" a case report.
Part of him wanted to find out where they got their information. But self-preservation (which had always been a key ingredient of his genetic make-up) told him to stay as far away as possible. He was a Fuchsbau, not a rampaging Blutbad, after all. Let Carter meddle in that sort of stuff.
"Detective Fusco?" a voice interrupted his meanderings.
Lionel opened his eyes to see a man standing next to his desk – a moderately tall, athletic fellow with dark hair and brilliant blue eyes, and no doubt a charmer with the ladies. The pudgy detective sat up straighter in his chair, not bothering to hide a reflexive annoyance at the man.
"Yeah, that's me. Who're you?" he demanded.
The man's eyebrows twitched in slight confusion. "I thought you knew I was coming. Detective Nick Burkhardt... Portland Police Bureau... ringing any bells?" He lifted the hem of his shirt a bit to reveal a shiny gold shield on his belt.
The Fuchsbau glowered as he rose to his feet and offered his hand to shake. Perfect, just perfect. Prettyboy was a detective.
"So you're the guy here for the glorified ride-along." He'd forgotten about it. Understandable when trying to juggle normal police work with managing his less-than-official work with HR and Wonderboy. This guy might be a problem if he looked a little too closely at Fusco and Carter's extracurricular activities.
Despite Lionel's grumpiness, Prettyboy didn't seem put off. "Hey, I'm just a last minute stand-in here," he replied, throwing his hands up helplessly. "The guy who was supposed to come caught chickenpox from his kid at the last minute."
Lionel shuddered slightly. He hated getting sick. "So your captain stuck you with the job of coming to New York to learn the latest and greatest in police strategy and tactics from the elite Homicide Task Force," he replied sarcastically.
Prettyboy flashed a charming grin; it was already grating on Lionel's nerves. The guy really was too pretty to be a real cop. "Hey, I don't mind it so much. I actually grew up about a hundred miles north of here, in Rhinebeck."
"Really." Lionel actually didn't care in the slightest, but Prettyboy didn't seem to notice. "You should meet Carter, my partner. She's around here somewhere." One of his partners, at any rate. Sadly, the least annoying. Lionel glanced around vaguely. Maybe he could foist this guy off on her, or one of the other detectives. Though, with his luck, he was stuck with Prettyboy. He always got stuck with the worst jobs around the precinct because these guys thought he didn't deserve to be here. Unfortunately, they were right.
Prettyboy opened his mouth to say something, but Lionel's phone abruptly rang, neatly cutting him off. The Fuchsbau checked the caller ID: AYPD. Answer Your Phone, Detective. Cute. He grimaced in annoyance. Perfect timing. Just perfect. "'Scuse me, I gotta take this. Ex-wife," he lied.
Prettyboy threw up his hands with another brilliantly white grin. "My partner's got three or four of those. I know how it is. Go ahead - I'll wait."
Lionel stepped quickly into an empty office and answered the call. "Your caller ID gets cuter every time, you know that?"
"We have a new job for you, Detective Fusco," came the voice of Wonderboy's friend with the glasses, calmly ignoring Lionel's quip.
"Well, that might be a little problematic at the moment," he objected in a low voice, glancing out the window at Prettyboy, who was sitting on the edge of his desk. "I got this detective from Portland hanging around the precinct. He's gonna notice something if I disappear on him."
"Yes, I'm aware of that, Detective," the prim voice continued smoothly. "We need you to keep an eye on him."
"Just do your job, Detective, and we'll get back to you. Don't let him out of your sight." With that, Mr. Glasses hung up on him.
Great. Just great. Lionel heaved a sigh and put away his phone.
Name: Burkhardt, Nicholas
POB: Rhinebeck, NY
Occupation: Portland Police Bureau ACTIVE
Violence Probability Index: High
Threat Category: Non-relevant
Threat Level: High
IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED