Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
JAMES SANDERS ENJOYED WORKING AT THE NINETY NINTH PRECINCT. He'd been there for around a year now and he felt right at home. He shared a desk with Charles Boyle, who was incredibly sweet, albeit with a weird taste in food.
There was Rosa Diaz, scary, but a good friend. He didn't know too much her, if he was honest.
Gina Linetti, the precinct's administrator. Though James doubted that she actually did any work, Gina was pretty cool and actually quite funny.
Terry Jeffords, the precinct's lieutenant was nice enough. After all, a year ago his wife had given birth to twins who were called Cagney and Lacey.
Amy Santiago was also a good friend of his. They'd been partners on a few cases when James had first started. He had to admire her; she had her life planned out, quite literally. She helped him settle in, and she's helped out when he wanted some advice on a case or two.
Finally, there was Jake Peralta, the person he'd gotten the closet to since his arrival at the Nine Nine. What was not to like about Jake? He was funny, kind, and rather ironically, his partner in crime. They spent most of their breaks in the break room, discussing ideas for pranks to play on their fellow coworkers, or an elaborate game or contest.
Being a cop was definitely different from what he'd originally planned to do. He had wanted to be a forensic psychologist, but whilst doing it, he felt as if a career in the NYPD was calling him.
He decided to finish the degree, after all, it could possibly come in handy, and joined the academy. He'd passed the exam in flying colours and started as a beat cop in the 73rd precinct before moving up the ranks to detective. He'd transferred to the Nine Nine, his Captain believing that he'd be better suited there, the Nine Nine always seemed to have the better cases.
So here he was, a detective in the Ninety Ninth precinct, working with incredible colleagues and friends and all in all he was happy. He was happy enough.
He had a rocky relationship with his father, to put it lightly. He wasn't too impressed to hear that his son was going to do psychology, and was slightly happier when he became a cop.
"At least you're not an fucking artist or some shit like that." His father had told him, one night James had come over for a family dinner.
Beside him, James' sister Kimberly had sighed softly. She'd pursued dance and had made the ultimate decision to change majors shortly after, unable to bear her dad's disappointment. She was a Paediatrician now, and married to Brandon who was a radiographer. They had a child, Ayanna, who was nearly nine, and they were expecting another, a boy, who they were going to name Elijah.
James himself, had no love life to speak of. He'd dated a girl in high school, but broke it off when he went to University. He'd been on a few dates since there, but nothing further than that. He didn't mind too much, he had three kids, who were actually kittens, at home and he was quite content with them.
