There wasn't much going on, which was a big surprise in Buffy's book considering it was New York City. She was riding around with her partner, who looked to be about ten years older than her and he insisted that she call him JT. She didn't really like that, but the name stuck after a few times of saying it over and over. She didn't know the reason though because his first name didn't start with a J by any means, but she didn't ask. She didn't care that much. On a routine patrol of the area, Buffy noticed something as they drove by an alley and looked back as JT drove on past.
"Pull over here," she instructed and he finally did. Getting out of the car, she walked back the half of a block quickly, finally seeing some guys fleeing the scene. "HEY!" She shouted as she started picking up the pace, but she noticed someone in the alley, moving themselves over by the dumpster and hiding inside a cardboard box.
Slowly, she walked up, her hand nowhere near her gun. She didn't like guns in the least bit, but the person who was hiding obviously seemed scared.
"It's okay," Buffy whispered, "I'm a police officer ... are you alright?" She asked, a stupid question of course because the girl was not alright. JT came walking up behind her.
The girl moved away some more, moving the box with her almost and trying her hardest to get down to the bottom of it. Looking back at JT, Buffy put her finger to her lips, indicating that he should shut up, just in case he was about to say anything.
Kneeling down, Buffy pulled the cardboard away and frowned.
Emily.
"Oh God, Emily? Are you alright?" Her face was bruised and she could see the bruises all over her neck, not to mention she was holding up her arm that was definitely swollen.
"It's Buffy, I'm going to help you. I'm going to take you to the Emergency Room." Letting out a breath, she watched her for a moment before turning back to JT.