Behind the Badge

Chapter Two: One Hell Of A Lady Cop

Joziah

It had been a long day. Today was one of the busiest dispatch days of the month and I had a baby cop attached to my hip. Thank god she wasn't a moron and didn't do anything stupid but I had so much anxiety this morning not knowing what my trainee would have in store for me. The last one hastened into a bank robbery, no kevlon, and gotten shot before he could even finish reciting the Miranda rights he learned in the academy. I was so worried about the potential for human error, I hadn't even prepared myself for what actual problems my new trainee would bring to me. She was going to be trouble for me, and I don't know how long I can hold out before it became a real issue. The whole ride home, I just kept thinking about her staring at my picture of Cheryl and the kids I had on my desk. How long she stared, her fingers moving around the edge of the frame. What was she thinking in that moment?

As my key turned in the lock, I felt my heartbeat stop for a moment as my head played the images of Nicki and Danny running up to me, excited I was home. I felt the warm embrace of Cheryl as the smell of pot roast entered my nose. But when I opened the door, nothing but silence filled the air. I threw my keys on the entry table and my jacket on the floor. Cheryl always hated when I put my shit where it didn't belong. I guess I felt like if I didn't put things back, she'd probably just appear, bitching at me to respect her household she just cleaned. As I collapsed on the couch in the living room, the house phone rang. I groaned and reluctantly answered.

"Hello?" I say into the receiver.

"Ziah? How was your new trainee? Did he get shot" Sam's voice boomed through the phone. I chuckle as Sam begins to relive my last trainee's mistakes.

"She did not get shot." I laugh, heavily saying 'she'.

"Is she hot or was she like an old lady cop with no emotion and little personality?" He asks, starting to give some of the unfortunate looking female cops on the force as examples.

"She is young and not ugly." I say, rubbing my head where a migraine was settling into my temple. I knew once I addressed her gender, that it was like giving a dog a bone, he'd be interested forever.

"Give. Me. Details. Hot lady cop or mid lady cop?"

I sigh heavily, "She's 24. Long curly brown hair, she's short as hell and has a lot of sass for such a little lady." I tell him, knowing that's not what he meant.

"Out of 10?"

"You know how I feel about rating."

He laughs, " I know, I know. But come on, give me something."

"She's cute, I guess." I say.

"Cute is for 10 year olds and old grannies. Was she hot or fugly?" Sam keeps poking. Cheryl never liked us talking like this, it made her feel like an item, even when we weren't dating. She always said beauty is on the inside.

"You'd probably hit, and that's all I'm going to say." I told him, hearing a loud cheer come out of the phone. As he began to tell me about his latest nurse conquest, I closed my eyes and sprawled out on the couch.

As my mind began to wander to the monologue about why nurses make the best submissives, I began to picture Emilia. Her brown eyes that reminded me of Hershey chocolate. Her golden  curls tied up in a scrunchie that couldn't tame them. Warm caramel skin that looked soft as butter. Her safety belt hugging her hips as she walked in front hold me. Her lips curling up into a small smile when I cracked a joke. They were so full and pink, and shiny from the chapstick she applied every 20 minutes. Her tongue licking them after she laughed a little too hard when Diaz tripped earlier. Her little breathy sighs when she got frustrated.