garrus is busy with (thecalibrations) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-10-24 22:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | garrus vakarian |
Who: Winnie O'Hara
What: Opening Narrative. Gaining Garrus and losing a partner
Where: Fremont Street and then a hospital
When: Recently
Warnings: Swearing, violence
Shepard?
Fremont street was the pool of sharks they liked to throw rookies in, but after a couple years it felt sort of charming. Like Main Street in Disneyland but you didn’t want to hug the colorful characters and most of the women dressed as princesses were actually men. She knew a lot of the regulars. The street performers, the kioski peddlers, the late night drag queens with heels so high they could crush a baby elephant. Most of them were friendly, if not a little wary, towards the golden haired lady cop. There were plenty of low lifes to chase down, but the people she saw every day (weirdos as they might be) were really growing on her.
“Getting soft, kid.” Truman said into his bent, paper coffee cup.
“Am not.” Winnie looped her thumb in her belt and pulled her pants up a little like she was proving she was an adult.
“I saw you smile at that buff Diana Ross looking motherfucker just a second ago.”
“Her name is Shirley and she’s a-” Winnie stopped herself, brow lowering as her mouth straightened into a defiant line. “Okay, Truman. You got a point.”
The old timer smiled at her, finishing off his lukewarm coffee while his eyes looked over her shoulder and then back around to the other side of the casino they were standing a couple yards from. He was like something out of a Tarantino film. A tough, white haired cop with a face like the side of a rocky cliff and a voice like a packet of wet cigarettes. He was an old friend of the O’Hara family, had even been to little Winnie’s baptism, and was given the task to make sure she was capable of being a cop. So far, she was doing pretty well. A little hot headed for his tastes, but the whole O’Hara clan had the tendency to get fired up at just about anything. And really, nothing was going to keep her dad or granddaddy from worrying. So, they had to do the best they could. That was their motto.
Shepard? Are you back on Omega?
“Wh-” Winnie turned her head slowly to look out at the crowd. Who the hell was talking so close to them? And, why wasn’t Truman noticing? She looked harder into the freaks and tourists, eyes squinted until the bodies blended with all the flashing lights and grime. Maybe she was picking up some kind of weird radio signal. Maybe her mom put a metal plate in her head and forgot to tell her about it. She’d totally do something like that.
Truman stepped away to throw his empty coffee cup in the trash and then the radio on his shoulder sparked to life. He answered, nodded and then walked over to Winnie. Assault at the souvenir shop owned by those nice Koreans that always let her have free orange juice. With a get em, Truman let Winnie off her invisible leash and sent her running through the crowd.
Because if Winnie was anything, she was fast. Stupid fast. Like the kind of fast that freaked out old people when she sprinted by. The kind of fast that made idiots trip on their own feet from seeing her coming. One time she chased down some stupid kid for stealing a purse and he was so exhausted once she cuffed him that he passed out. Winnie was fast.
Dodging her way through the crowd and ignoring any echoes of Shepard that was loud and clear in the very middle of her mind, she found a hesitant crowd on the edges of the shop. “Police!” She announced, catching sight of some kid in a sweatshirt trying to wrestle a woman to the ground. “GET OFF HER NOW.” Winnie’s voice boomed as she barged through rows of novelty shot glasses and t-shirts. Feeling cornered, the kid stumbled away from the woman and frantically looked for a place to run as Winnie charged right for him. In seconds, she had knocked out his knees and twisted his scrawny arm so far behind his back he could barely struggle.
“How many times do I have to tell you boys? That’s not how you get a woman to go out with you.” Winnie pinned him to the ground with her knee, cuffing him as she called in a car for pickup. “Next time try asking for her number first.” She told the shaking mess under her weight and looked up for Truman. Where was the old man? He wasn’t as fast as her, not by a long shot, but he could get over here by now couldn’t he?
“Truman.” She tried their radio. Nothing. “Shit.” Winnie got to her feet, yanking the forlorn kid with her. “Ma’am, if you don’t mind waiting here, I’ll have someone take a report in just a bit.” Winnie told the woman who was now on her feet and wiping away tears. The woman nodded, but even a young rookie cop knew that she might vanish before anyone could get anything out of her. Women didn’t like admitting to being assaulted. It felt shaming. Winnie understood that. But, the priority now was getting this man into custody and making sure old Truman was okay.
“Come on, hot stuff. Let’s go.” Winnie dragged the kid through the crowd, arm firmly at his back and elbow so any kind of attempt to get free would result in a swift kick to the knees. Not that he could outrun her in those cuffs anyway.
You’re not Shepard. Who- what are you? The voice was gruff and pissed off. And, honestly? It was pissing Winnie off, too.
“I don’t know any fucking Shepard.” Winnie said out loud, gaining an alarmed sideways look from the cuffed kid.
Then who the hell are you?
Yep. Winnie was definitely losing her shit. Did she have a stroke? Was there brain cancer the doctor didn’t pick up on her last visit? Shit. Cops could not do their job with brain cancer.
In the distance to where she left Truman, there was another circle of people and lights flashing. That was never good. Suddenly, two officers were at her side, taking the kid off her hands.
“Truman had a heart attack. The casino called the ambulance and we just happened to be passing by.”
“WHAT.” Winnie shoved the kid into the other officer’s arms and tried to run towards the crowd before one of them caught her arm.
“He’s already in the ambulance. They said he was still breathing but-” Officer big and tall scratched the side of his face. “I don’t know if he can keep walking this beat with you, O’Hara.”
“Like hell he can’t!” And, like that, she was off.
Later that night, at the hospital, she waited. Winnie wasn’t so good at waiting. She paced the hospital, pounded her fist on the vending machine when her M&Ms got stuck, talked to some old people about bladder infections. But, she waited. And, when they let her see old Truman he was a mess.
Next to his bed was her dad, mom and Truman’s wife. Winnie smiled a little, waving at the old man who looked like he aged twenty years. She tied a colorful “Get Well” balloon to his bedpost and took a seat near the window.
“Truman is retiring.” Her dad said, a sad smile on his face.
“Is that what he wants?” Winnie blurted out, making the two old men in the room laugh. Yes. that’s what he wanted. Yes, she’d have to move on.
Yes, there was still someone asking for Shepard in her head.