Gabriella Roux, Homicide Detective, exited the crime scene with her fedora tilted to shield her eyes from onlookers and her hands in her coat pockets.  She was no longer needed at the scene after the body of the victim had been carried out on a stretcher and the cops were already on the culprit's tail.  It had been a husband who shot and killed his wife, which wasn't unusual to her at this point.  The only part that made her feel anything was the sympathy she felt for the children of the victim.  They hadn't been at the scene when she got there, but the crayon art attached to the fridge with a colorful magnet had told her all she needed to know.

As she squeezed past the last few crime scene investigators and stepped out of the townhouse onto the grimy streets, she was immediately approached by a young man in a suit.  She gave him a quick look up and down.  At first, she would've assumed he was an athlete- large, muscular build, untamed brown hair, a sharp brown gaze, stubble on the chin... sneakers.  But as he reached into his jacket and removed an ID with a gleaming badge, she understood that she might have jumped to conclusions a little too quickly.  She should've known better than to do such a thing by now, and she silently scolded herself as the man spoke in a gruff voice.

"Detective Lawson," he said. "I'm guessin' you're Detective Roux?"

Gabriella blinked. Judging from the accent, he was from the South. "Indeed I am... Detective, what brings you here?  I haven't seen you around these parts."

"I just moved here.  I'm to be partnered with you 'til your retirement in one week."

"I see." She paused for a moment. "Are you an athlete?"

"Yes ma'am.  Football through high school n' college.  Why do you ask?" He furrowed his brow in confusion.

"...I can tell." Gabriella then added, "Now listen, Detective, while I'm still here, you listen to me and do what I tell you to do, okay?"

"Yes ma'am," Detective Lawson agreed.  She could still see the restiveness in his eyes, though.

"So, what brought you here?" She grimaced as she glanced around at the rain-streaked, polluted sidewalks and busy streets around them as they walked.

"I wanted t'do some good elsewhere.  Figured that I could do that somewhere with more crime."

Gabriella looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. "Well you hit the jackpot, if that's what you want."

Lawson read her expression for a moment. "I assume you're not a fan of the area, then."

"Oh, hell no.  It's why I'm retiring so early.  I can't stand this junkyard and the amount of atrocities that go down around here.  I've been putting up with it for years, and I figured that it's now or never."

"It's really that bad?"

"Stick around and find out."

He blinked before simply nodding, the silence between them as they continued down the street occupied instead by blaring car horns and constant chatter from all sides.

"Why did you choose to take on a law path?" Gabriella finally asked, trying to piece together the man accompanying her.  She wanted to find out what type of guy she was dealing with as soon as possible, without making any more assumptions.

"I... Football just wasn't makin' me happy," Lawson admitted. "I wanted to do something good with my life.  Against all odds, I somehow made it to bein' a homicide detective.  I've done a few cases now, and serving justice makes me feel like I got a purpose."

You'll feel like you've got a purpose soon enough, all right, Gabriella thought to herself bitterly. 

"Look," she said. "You're going to have to prove yourself around here.  I've seen plenty of young recruits come here all starry-eyed, dreaming of making this place better.  Those who didn't quit are miserable now and wishing that they did."

"I see, but Detective, I got experience under my belt!  This ain't my first rodeo." 

Alright, so he was certainly desperate to prove himself, she could tell that now from the tone of his voice.  This wasn't new for her, though; plenty of young detectives had shadowed her and most had sank instead of swam because they were so eager to please.  Still, she knew she had to give him a chance, whether she liked it or not.  Which she didn't.

"How old are you, Lawson?" Gabriella asked. 

"...twenty-three."

Very young.  Hell, his brain wasn't even fully developed yet.  This kid was going to drag her down, she was sure of it.  

Only for a week, a voice in her head reminded her. Then it's all on him.

That was true.  He wouldn't be her problem seven days from now.

"Did you specifically want to come here, or did you just try to find a nearby city with a high enough crime rate?" she questioned.

"Nah," he answered. "My sister lives here, so she let me move in with her for the time bein'."

"And you plan to stay here?"

"That's the idea."

Gabriella didn't say it aloud, because it would be rude, but she was questioning this man's sanity.  What kind of crazy person would willingly choose to stay in a hopeless, miserable dump like this?  And he really thought he could make a difference?  Oh, please.

"D...Did I say somethin' wrong?" Lawson asked, jolting her out of her thoughts.

"Oh, no, no," she lied.  Of course he had.  His expectations were horrifyingly high.  Only a madman could have such optimism towards this place.

He read her expression.  Or at least tried to.  Gabriella was incredibly good at masking her emotions.  There was no chance of him being able to get a glimpse at what she was thinking.

"Let me ask you something, Lawson," she said. "What do you think a case here will look like?  What's your ideal crime to solve?"

He looked at her like she'd asked a trick question.  It was, that was true.  And he seemed to understand that if he lied, she'd know he was lying, and if he told the truth, he'd look like a naive kid with big dreams.

Finally, he responded with, "Y'know what, Detective?  Whatever they choose t' throw at me.  I can take it."

Sure you can, Gabriella thought dryly. Play it safe with your answers before you can't anymore, Lawson.  If that's the strategy you use, then you won't last a day into your first case.

"Well then.  I'm sure I'll see you at the office tomorrow, in that case.  Good day, Detective Lawson." And with that, she turned and walked in the other direction, back towards her car.  

Was she being a bit of a jerk to him?  Perhaps.  But what did he want?  A big welcome and a plate of cookies?  No, she was going to give the cold, hard reality straight to him.  If he couldn't take it, then he'd be gone within the next few days.  She didn't need him around if he was just going to make her last week of work even harder than it already was.  

Gabriella slit into the driver's seat of her car and reached for the seatbelt.  Today was Sunday.  Next Sunday, she would be done.  No more having to make her breathing shallower as someone exhaled cigarette smoke into her face as she walked by.  No more waking up at one in the morning to a phone call that someone had been murdered.  No more having to rely on coffee to keep her going because she could only get an hour of sleep every night at best thanks to the amount of work her job required her to do.  She already had her eyes set on a nice country house halfway across the country.  Fresh air and peace.  It was all she wanted.  Was that too much to ask for?  She shifted her car out of park and into drive, bracing herself for the traffic as she pulled onto the street.  

Car horns blared as people lowered their car windows to scream at pedestrians carelessly crossing the road wherever they pleased.  She watched someone toss a piece of trash out of their car and onto the sidewalk.  The sight reminded her why she hated everything so much at the moment.

Right.  Fresh air and peace.

It would just have to wait a week.

***

(1367 words)

A story where Gabriella Roux is a badass?  Yes.

Chapter One was a bit slow, but I promise you all that this plot's fawkin' insane.  

Thank you Mr. Fincher for the masterpiece you made that I'm borrowing the entire plotline from. <3