The Lobby

Knives Out

Knives Out: When Percy Jackson—Riptide, as he is called in the Underground— head of the Poseidon Division of the Half-Blood Criminal Organisation is sent undercover to infiltrate the Police Department of New York in preparation for a big operation, he ends up biting more than he can chew.

A/N: I'm not a policeman and we all know I'm too lazy to research; the Police terms and diction here are probably inaccurate but bear with me alright? UNEDITED.

Zoë Nightshade looked up from her desk in the CID office, a frown marring her face as she took in Commissioner Lupa and the raven haired man by her side.

His eyes were soaking in everything around him like a school-kid and Zoë personally thought the glasses on his face made him look ridiculous. But from his crisp white button up and his tight trousers and well polished shoes, she could tell he was at least serious about his job. Nonetheless, Zoë's lips pulled down in a sneer as Lupa and the new man headed for her table.

She heard a cough at her side and turned to glare at Phoebe and Chris, who instantly averted their eyes to their own work. From behind them however, Zoë caught the questioning glances of Will Solace and Katie Gardner. She frowned at them, making them turn back to their computers too.

Finally, Lupa and the man came to a stop at Zoë's table. She looked up, an eyebrow raising in question. "Hi?"

Lupa looked unamused. "Nightshade," She said in greeting. The wolfish looking woman jerked her head at the nerd, then spoke, "This is Detective Percy Jackson; he's your new partner, just got transferred from California." Zoë nodded, although sourly.

She preferred working alone and this Percy man had just come to ruin that for her. Turning to glare at him, she said, "Welcome to NYPD, Jackson. Take a seat." She motioned to the seat in front of her.

Percy traded what seemed like an uneasy glance with Lupa, who nodded reassuringly. Then he took a seat in front of Zoë, still clutching tightly to a briefcase.

"I'll show you around during my lunch break," Zoë said decisively as she heard Lupa's heels clacking away in her retreat. "And debrief you on the new case which came in this morning." She waved a hand, turning back to her documents. "For now, just sit, and watch how things are done around here."

She looked up, hoping to catch a hint of anger on his face, maybe a disgusting quality which would allow her to hate him easily like she had hated all her previous partners—well, except Artemis.

However, the man seemed relaxed and hardly perturbed. He appeared content to watch her work and leaned back in his seat, looking around himself again with that air of childlike wonder.

Zoë frowned once more, then returned to her work.

Occasionally, she looked up to find Jackson, a clear expression of interest on his face as he looked at everything she was doing. Zoë typed away on her keyboard, muttering to herself.

After a while, she sat up and turned to Phoebe, "Have the forensics department brought in the data yet?"

The burly girl shook her head, clicking something on her computer. Zoë rubbed her temples, letting out a sigh. There had been a homicide that morning—one dead, in an apartment in Upper East Side. A man, who went by the name Gabe. They had found a gun and a piece of cloth, which had contained chloroform, and the victim's body seemed to have been sliced in several places—ultimately, the man had been tortured before he died. Their forensics department was looking through their records to find fingerprints on the weapon, and a match to them.

The one thing Zoë hated most about her job was the waiting. She hated feeling like a sitting duck—doing nothing while criminals ran around and went on rampages in her city. She cursed to herself, turning back to review the files and information they had collected. She felt as though she was missing something. Something important.