Celebrity/Character Imagines

Rosa Diaz: Enemies With Benefits

One of my cardinal rules of adulthood was never to engage with a member of your family in a professional environment. Especially if said relative was about as mature as a 5 year old and had access to highly dangerous weapons. And yet, I still found myself stood in an elevator on my way up to the third floor of Brooklyn's ninety-ninth precinct, a letter of recommendation clutched in one hand, my motorcycle helmet in the other.

I'd been living in Miami for the better part of 3 years, working for the FBI on a huge mafia case that required me to go undercover and infiltrate the family. All had gone well, and I'd played my part convincingly, but things had got tricky when I'd gotten involved with the boss's daughter, Andrea. It hadn't been anything other than sex, both of us knew that; her father would not tolerate a relationship between his daughter and one of his drug mules. It had gone on without a hitch for a couple of months, sneaking around with her right under her father's nose.

Then, just as my team was about to pull me out, it all went to shit. Andrea's father, Luciano, had found out about her and I. One of his goons had caught us making out in an alley before stumbling back to my apartment. I'd been right about Luciano not taking the news lightly; he'd sent a couple of his thugs to snatch me out of my apartment and bring me to one of his drug warehouses. My experience there had not been one I'd look back on fondly. He'd had one of his men hold me up, arms behind my back, as he beat the shit out of me.

I'd barely managed to crawl to the nearest phone booth to call my team. After I'd weakly informed them of my current state, I'd passed out and woken up in hospital. My captain informed me that he was pulling me out early, that I was too injured to carry on; plus, if I ever showed my face to Luciano again, he'd probably do a lot worse that give me a couple of broken ribs, a split lip and a concussion.

Whilst I'd fought against the decision to extract me, I knew it was for the best. It was best for me to be as far away as possible from the family, now that they all knew I was sleeping with the heiress to Luciano's fortune. Without anything anchoring me in Miami, I'd called my cousin and asked him how he'd felt about me coming to live in Brooklyn with him. I'm pretty sure he squealed into the phone.

And so I'd packed up and moved into an apartment a couple blocks away from my cousin. It took me a week to get settled, adjust to the brisk coolness of New York, and send through my application to Captain Holt of the precinct I was hopefully to be joining. My previous captain had talked Holt into giving me a detective job, and the man was all too happy to oblige. Unlike my cousin, I was known for my precision and almost deadly ruthlessness.

This all led me to here; the elevator.

The metal box carrying me to my (hopefully) new job stopped at the right floor with a ding and the clang of grating metal as the doors slid open. I heard my cousin before I saw him.

"Y/N! You're here!" Jake vaulted over the gate to the bullpen and leapt into my arms. I grinned and wrapped my arms around him as well as I could, chuckling at his childlike behaviour.
"Hey, Jakey." He let go and stood on his own two feet again, straightening out his hoodie with a wide grin upon his face.
"I hope you're ready for the best job ever!" I grinned once again as we stepped out of the elevator and the gate into the bullpen.

"I'll introduce you to everyone." Knowing my cousin, I tried to convince him not to, but I didn't get a chance as he waved his arms and started yelling.
"Jake, no-"
"Hey, guys! Gather round, I'd like you to meet someone very important." Like a hive mind, suddenly there was a large group of people surrounding us. "May I introduce to you...drumroll please..." When nobody obliged his odd request, my cousin simply began to rapidly pat his belly to do it himself. "My cousin, Y/N, the nine-nine's newest recruit!"

All of a sudden, the once silent group broke into amiable chatter.
"Oh, of course! Jake told me about this weeks ago! How could I forget?" A short guy with thinning hair stepped forward to shake my hand. I immediately recognised the man from my cousin's descriptions; this was Boyle.
"Hi, you must be Charles." The man squeaked and Jake rolled his eyes.
"She knows my name, Jake!"