It was interview day for me. I had joined three years ago, and yet I've managed to solve more cases than most local cops here. It was astonishing to the press, to NYPD Red, that they absolutely must get me in for an interview. Last minute but important.
"Jennifer, you've saved a lot of lives but you've also ended a lot. How does that work?" The interviewer, a woman, shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable.
"Uhm, yeah. Yeah, I have, to say the least. I mean, I ended lives because... It's for the greater good. The people's who's lives I've taken, they were hurting people. Killing people so I ended them, thus giving Portland some console." I smiled to one side, fiddling with my fingers which situated in my lap.
"And are you capable of calling yourself a hero?" This shocked me, I was stunned. Freezing in my seat, mentally cringing at the word hero. That was meant for people like Tony Stark or Captain America. Not me. I'm not a hero, I can never see myself as one.
"No, I can't. That word, hero, is meant for people like Tony Stark or Captain America. Not me. I've done a lot of bad, a good mix of good. It's the bad that outweighs the good which I don't feel comfortable releasing to the public-- ever." She just merely nodded, scribbling some notes down on her little notepad. I've been told to not worry about that stuff because it's mostly nonsense.
"What was the longest it took to close a case? A double murder or such?" Just what was this woman irking at?
"Uhhh," I chuckled, running my fingers through my baby blue hair. I had gotten used to the look, and the questionable stares from the forensic teams, or anybody we worked with. "The longest may have been anywhere from a month to a month and a half. These guys, and one woman, they were oh so aggravating. I mean, they would do something say... every week. It got on my nerves especially because of the first encounter. At a stupid, little paint shop somewhere. Fun." The woman vogued, to the point where only Grimms could see it. I saw glimpses earlier, like her skin rattling slightly. Skalengeck. "Excuse me, I have to make a call." She nodded in understanding as I walked far, far, far away from anyone.
Nick was on speed dial.
Me
Nick, love.Nick
How's the interview?Me
The interviewer is a skalengeck, which means that everyone else is most likely something. What the hell do I do?Nick
You can't get the hell outta dodge. You'll have to ride it through. Go it alone.Me
I just have a feeling.Nick
What kind of feeling?Me
A feeling that something bad will happen to me today.Nick
You have that feeling everyday. Whats the difference?Me
Nick! The difference is that there are six wesen here and I'm defenseless.Nick
You didn't bring your gun? You always have your gun.Me
I have my gun. What, do you peg me for an idiotic bloke? I'm not peggable. My preferred method is hand to hand combat and neck breaking. But using guns are less fun and leave much more evidence. I'm skilled in many many things. I can list--
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What Derives From Hate?
FanfictionYou worked for MI6 for 7 years. 7 years of false names, and spy training. Broken bones, and lots of other broken things. But, all in all, you were their best agent. You were the best at solving cases, catching killers, and killing killers. But in al...