Show Me Going - Rosa Diaz

001 | Comfort Hotel

The team was in the briefing room, waiting for everyone to finish filing in. As usual, Scully and Hitchcock were the last ones in, being the lazy butts they are. Holt and Sarge finally walked up to the podium and the two looked out on their team, preparing to begin speaking. I switched from being annoyed to being annoyed but still listening

"Okay, before we get going," Holt began and everyone looked up, full attention on the captain and sergeant. "Sergeant Jeffordshas suggested that it would improve morale if we started the meeting with some consensual non-work jabber," Ew. Small talk.

Terry looked uncomfortable but plastered on a fake smile and I rolled my eyes. As much as I love Sarge, and I do, he needs to stick up for himself. Despite his enormous frame, he's a fucking doormat. "I just said it might be nice if you checked in on the squad's personal lives every now and then," Gag. What the hell's he thinking?

Holt nodded in agreement. "Exactly, jabber. Scully, go," I already knew this would turn out bad. I mean, come on. It's fucking Norm Scully.

"Well, it was just a regular morning for me." Scully began. Huh, maybe this won't be so terrifyingly horrid, after all... "Woke up again with my dog's but on my mouth," Never-fucking-mind.

"This experiment has failed," Holt moved on. Terry didn't even look annoyed by that, he looked relieved. "Back to work talk. Peralta, I have a case for you--"

"Uh, that's a no-can-do, sir," Jake interrupted and I expected the worst for my friend.

"Excuse me?" Holt took off his glasses.

"Oh. Sorry," Jake started. "I didn't mean to come across like a rabble-rouser," Rabble-rouser? What the fuck is that? "We're just..." he gestured between him and Charles. "...simply unavail. We have a meeting at a new multi-agency, multi-state task force," Damn, Jake!

"It's a double multi!" Charles chimed in.

"It's a multi-multi," Jake rephrased. And he ruined it.

Charles slapped him on the shoulder. "You're better at everything than I am!"

"Don't say that," Jake argued.

"It is what it is!" Charles shrugged and I walked to stab my ears with spoons.

"They're taking down a street racing gang that's been using souped-up cars to transport drugs across state lines. It's a real-life Fast and the Furious movie!"

Slowly, I began to zone out. I usually do this at briefings. I just zone out, imagining horrid but pleasantly sexy fake scenarios until Holt or Terry says my name. And if they don't, then I just walk out silently.

But I was snapped out of my daze when I heard the words: "Sergeant Boomer Maxwell!" I gasped with the rest of the room.

Gina began to speak, "Boomer Maxwell? What kind of name is that? Is he a football plate and/or rugrat?" How dare this bitch...

"Dude, he's an NYPD legend!" I tried to explain the importance of this man to her. "I heard he took down three serial killers in one week,"

"I heard he defused a bomb with his teeth because his hands were tied up!" Terry said passionately.

"I heard he bangs constantly," Hitchcock burst out and I cringed.

"Hitchcock, no chime-ins for you," Jake snapped.

"Well, good luck," Holt continued. "I know how competitive these task forces can be,"

"Especially this one," Jake began once again. "Because Boomer's amazing!"

"In bed!" Hitchcock tried again and I rolled my eyes, prepared to throw a knife at his face.