Rooms

Maybe writing again isn't such a bad idea. Thoughts on paper, stories on paper, right?

I bet it'd be good again. I could be good again.

Anyone got a line on some quick cash?

[Clem was looking at her watch, waiting for the SVU detective to show at the scene. Midday now, and homicide came first, but it was SVU they were waiting on. The woman who found the body was waiting patient, over on a bench, and her children running 'round like it was just another day.

The body was draped with a blanket, and the NYPD patrol officer was leaning against his car, watching that woman on the bench and filling out report. Clem, she was tired as could be. Dressed in her blues, her jacket off and tossed in the passenger's seat of the ambulance, and her partner off getting them both something cold to drink from that food cart across the way.

She couldn't eat a thing, but that wasn't real surprising. The girl beneath the blanket, she looked real bad, and Clem lost her appetite whenever they came to scenes like this. They were still waiting on Forensics, and Dispatch was real long gone off the line, and Clem just wished the damn man coming would hurry, so the morgue could get this girl taken in, and so the smell of burning hair could work its way on out of Clem's nose.]

[The voice is steady] I need SVU and Homicide at a scene ASAP. Stone, Martín-Argüelles, you're showing up free.

[Testing the waters, she just draws a giant question mark on the page.]