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"What the hell?"
Rosa Diaz nearly kicked back her chair as she stood up, making quick work with her long strides toward the Captain's office, where she minced no words as she threw the folder that she'd found on her desk that morning onto his desk. "What is this?" she demanded.
Captain Holt's brow inched up marginally at the less than professional, yet not wholly unexpected entrance, picking up the file in question. "It appears to be transfer papers," he said, handing them back over to her.
"I didn't put in for a transfer," Rosa said, folding her arms, leaving the file hanging. "Why did you put in for a transfer? Shouldn't that be something I should, I don't know, know about first?"
"I didn't put in for a transfer, either," Holt said, giving it another look, shaking his head with uncertainty. "It must be some sort of clerical error. While I find your methods to be...impulsive and...often startlingly violent, you're a valuable asset to the precinct, Diaz. I will...look into this, see if we can't get this sorted out quickly."
"Good," Rosa said. "Fix it. I mean, what sort of place is Fandom Island, anyway?"
"It appears to be a small village on an island, the focus of which is a private boarding school, off the coast of Maryland."
"Ugh. Gross."
_____
And yet, later that day, Rosa had begun loading her few meager belongings (and many hidden weapons) into a box, actions enough to startled Amy Santiago from her desk. "Wait, Rosa, why are you packing? I thought Captain Holt said he'd sort out the confusion."
"He did," Rosa confirmed, "and he will. But until then..."
"You can't be seriously thinking of going," Amy said. "What about Ropesburg? You turned down a captain position there, and this place is even smaller. And it's a lateral move! That makes...absolutely...no occupational sense!"
"Did you actually read that transfer report?" Rosa said, reaching for it, since she, unlike Amy, forgot stuff like a cool person, and she started to read. "They're most reported crime is 'Gremlin Bites,' which cites severe periods of complete delusion. Drugs. It's a drug hug, Amy. I love busting up drug hubs, you know that. Besides, look at this backlog of complaints. Loitering snowmen. Sharks crashing into living rooms. Little blue men in the walls.
"Crazy people," Rosa offered when it was clear that Amy wasn't picking up on where she was going. "The island is full of crazy people. This is gonna be hilarious."
And temporary. That was the key ingredient here. Temporary. Just until Holt got whatever it was figured out.
"Besides," she added, when Amy didn't seem entirely convinced, "I need to get some space from you people anyway. It's gonna get real expensive torching all my apartments and having to move every time you pull that Game Night shit again."
[[ establishyyyyyyyy! ]]
Rosa Diaz nearly kicked back her chair as she stood up, making quick work with her long strides toward the Captain's office, where she minced no words as she threw the folder that she'd found on her desk that morning onto his desk. "What is this?" she demanded.
Captain Holt's brow inched up marginally at the less than professional, yet not wholly unexpected entrance, picking up the file in question. "It appears to be transfer papers," he said, handing them back over to her.
"I didn't put in for a transfer," Rosa said, folding her arms, leaving the file hanging. "Why did you put in for a transfer? Shouldn't that be something I should, I don't know, know about first?"
"I didn't put in for a transfer, either," Holt said, giving it another look, shaking his head with uncertainty. "It must be some sort of clerical error. While I find your methods to be...impulsive and...often startlingly violent, you're a valuable asset to the precinct, Diaz. I will...look into this, see if we can't get this sorted out quickly."
"Good," Rosa said. "Fix it. I mean, what sort of place is Fandom Island, anyway?"
"It appears to be a small village on an island, the focus of which is a private boarding school, off the coast of Maryland."
"Ugh. Gross."
_____
And yet, later that day, Rosa had begun loading her few meager belongings (and many hidden weapons) into a box, actions enough to startled Amy Santiago from her desk. "Wait, Rosa, why are you packing? I thought Captain Holt said he'd sort out the confusion."
"He did," Rosa confirmed, "and he will. But until then..."
"You can't be seriously thinking of going," Amy said. "What about Ropesburg? You turned down a captain position there, and this place is even smaller. And it's a lateral move! That makes...absolutely...no occupational sense!"
"Did you actually read that transfer report?" Rosa said, reaching for it, since she, unlike Amy, forgot stuff like a cool person, and she started to read. "They're most reported crime is 'Gremlin Bites,' which cites severe periods of complete delusion. Drugs. It's a drug hug, Amy. I love busting up drug hubs, you know that. Besides, look at this backlog of complaints. Loitering snowmen. Sharks crashing into living rooms. Little blue men in the walls.
"Crazy people," Rosa offered when it was clear that Amy wasn't picking up on where she was going. "The island is full of crazy people. This is gonna be hilarious."
And temporary. That was the key ingredient here. Temporary. Just until Holt got whatever it was figured out.
"Besides," she added, when Amy didn't seem entirely convinced, "I need to get some space from you people anyway. It's gonna get real expensive torching all my apartments and having to move every time you pull that Game Night shit again."
[[ establishyyyyyyyy! ]]
