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unedited
~~~~~~~~~~
"Ugh," Jake groaned to Charles as he walked into the kitchen with Neveah, both detectives holding cups of coffee, Neveah's significantly larger than Jake's. "Motorcade duty. So boring. I would honestly rather sit around and listen to you talk about the right way to make Paella."
"Don't even start Charles." Neveah cut in with a stifled yawn, before the male could start on his rant. "I will punch you if the word 'Paella' comes out of your fucking mouth in my vicinity." Neveah had sat down at the kitchenette table, nursing her cup of coffee with exhausted eyes.
"Hey, Rosa." Jake greeted as Rosa brushed past him into the kitchen, going straight for the fridge. "Just who I was looking for. Quick question, can I have your friend Katie's phone number? I want to ask her out."
"No, I don't mix personal and professional." Rosa denied, shutting the fridge door and turning to the table, moving behind Neveah's chair. "Hey, Nev." Rosa greeted with a small smile, putting her hands onto the redhead's shoulders, subtly squeezing them as a form of comfort and reassurance that she was there for Neveah. "You're never getting Katie's number, Jake."
"Never, like, 'we're never gonna have a black president' never?" Jake tried to clarify, "Cause that never happened."
"A real never." Rosa glared at Jake, hidden behind a semi-fake smile. "Like if you ever ask me about this again, you're never gonna be able to eat without a straw. Come on, Nev, I'll get you an energy drink for after your coffee, if you want."
"M'kay" Neveah mumbled, yawning as she got up from her seat, following after Rosa like a lost puppy.
"You are on the wrong side of history, my friend!" Jake called to Rosa's back as the pair walked back to their desks.
~~~~~
99th Precinct, Morning Briefing, 9:15 am
"Listen up." Holt ordered, "There's been an issue with the motorcade. The Serbian president is delayed in Washington, and we can't start locking down intersections until he takes off."
"Apparently, he's on an important call with the Albanian president." Terry continued on for Holt.
"Is that Bujar Nishani, or is it still Bamir Topi?" Amy piped up in question.
"Ames, I love you, but please, no one gives two flying fucks who the Albanian president is right now." Neveah groaned, voice muffled by the table where head was laid on her folded arms, her cup of coffee sitting next to the can of Monster Energy on the table next to her.
"There's a three hour delay. Minimum." Terry took control of the conversation again. "Captain Holt and I will have to leave for a meeting at One Police Plaza. You should all stay prepped and ready."
