S1 EP14

"Listen, not a lot of rookies make it to this point in their probationary year."

"It's a reason to celebrate."

"But not too much," Grey warned sternly.

The four rookies had been summoned to the captain's office before their shift started, each looking confused but curious. They stood in a line, facing both Grey and Andersen. "For your first 100 shifts, your training officers have been there to guide the way," the latter stated, "Not today."

Jackson cracked a smile. "Plain Clothes Day."

Andersen nodded. "That's right, Officer West. Very good."

"What's Plain Clothes Day?" Ollie queried.

"Your T.O.s will be out of uniform, riding with you in a strictly observational capacity," Grey explained.

"They will not advise, assist, or help you in any way," Andersen added, "Every decision will be yours to make."

The rookies' eyes widened at the knowledge. John raised his arm. "Does this mean I finally get to choose where we eat for lunch?"

"Yes, Officer Nolan," Grey confirmed curtly. "For all intents and purposes, today you are alone. And that should scare the hell out of you."

The rookies gulped.

"This will be a true measure of where you are in the learning process," the captain further explained, "And your performance today could have a profound impact on your career path in this department."

"So," Grey eyed the four of them, "any questions?"

"Uh, yes, sir," Lucy spoke up. "What happens if we get into real trouble?"

The rookies' gaze bounced back to the Captain and the Watch Commander in unison. "Deal with it," Grey answered dully. "And if you can't, your T.O. will step in."

"But make no mistake. If that happens, you will be judged," Andersen cleared her throat, and the four rookies nodded quietly at the captain's stare. "That's it. Good luck out there."

The four of them excused themselves and headed out of the office at once, feeling a mix of emotions. The 100-shift mark was, indeed, a huge milestone for them. But each of them was still eager to learn, more eager to prove themselves.

"Are you guys as excited about this as I am?" John asked the group as they descended the stairs towards the bullpen. "We finally get to call the shots."

"I know I am," Ollie nodded, beaming at the idea of it.

Lucy nodded in agreement. "I know, right?"

"Whoa, slow down," Jackson cut in. "You three realise that twenty percent of probationary officers that wash out of the program do it during Plain Clothes Day."

Lucy glared at him while Ollie swatted him on the back. John's expression dulled. "Don't tell us that!" he exclaimed. "Why would you tell us that?"

"Motivation," Jackson claimed.

As they arrived at the bottom of the stairs, they were met with their T.O.s at the bullpen. The training officers were out of their uniform, each dressed like a civilian— though the look on their faces was still, irritatingly judgy.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?" Lopez chimed as the rookies arrived at the bullpen.

"Mm-hmm," Avery agreed, but Bishop snickered.

"Please, they're just as green as they were yesterday," she mused.

"What are you looking at, Boot?" Tim added, "I'm not even here."

The rookies swallowed down their smiles, shuffling towards the armoury instead. With their backs facing their T.O.s, the senior officers' taunts only grew louder.

"My wash out number's three," Lopez announced loudly. "What about you?"

"Same," Bishop said.

"None, so far," Avery claimed, watching as the rookies attempted to cut in front of each other to retrieve their war bags.

"That's because we've been T.O.s since you were in school," Lopez mocked.

"That was actually quite mean," Avery narrowed his eyes before shrugging. "But who knows, today might be my first," he added loudly, watching his rookie grimace.

"Right," Bishop chuckled, "I bet Tim's is up in double digits by now."

"Damn straight," Tim confirmed with a rather smug look on his face. "I've had eleven rookies bounced from the program during Plain Clothes Day. Looking to make it an even dozen today."

Ollie was zipping the equipment bags after doing a count on the items, peering back with a flicker of flame in her eyes. "Not happening."

Tim raised his brows at her. "I'm not even here," he repeated.

"Sure," the rookie rolled her eyes, "But I am, and I'm staying."

"Your number twelve is feisty, Bradford," Avery sang; Ollie glared at him as well, but the young T.O. merely winked back amusingly.

"Do not listen," John advised, "They're just trying to psych us out." The other rookies were still grumbling as he picked up two bags from the counter.

"Already making a mistake," Bishop declared.

"If we're not here, why get two kit bags?" Lopez pointed out.

"We are supposed to have two bags," Ollie told John as she strapped her two equipment bags on her shoulders.

"Yup, just in case they have to take action," Jackson added, fist-bumping Ollie.

"First mistake avoided," Tim nodded. "So many left to make."

➤➤➤

Ollie had just loaded the two bags and shotguns when she spotted Tim leaning idly against the wall with an envelope in his hand. She shut the trunk of their patrol car, eyeing him oddly. "What's that?" she finally asked when she rounded the car and walked to him.

Tim shrugged. "Filled out your evaluation," he replied, flashing the envelope in front of her face.

"But we haven't even left yet—?"

"Yeah. I already know how today's gonna go."

Ollie snorted, shaking her head as she opened the passenger door. "Sure, you do. You aren't gonna psych me out, just to let you know," she deadpanned, still holding the car door, "I'm gonna be the best rookie you've ever had for Plain Clothes Day."

"Really?" Tim challenged back, gesturing at the door. "Did that start with you opening the door for me as purely an act of kindness?"

Oh, crap, damn it. But the rookie ultimately decided to ignore his snare. "You getting in, or no?"

Tim shook his head as he got into the car; Ollie rolled her eyes as she walked over to the driver's side. Yes, she definitely almost got into the passenger side when she was supposed to be driving today. But that truth she shall bring to her grave. She sighed; it was going to be a long day.

Tim handed her the envelope when she got in. "Don't open it until end of shift."

Ollie eyed the envelope displeasingly— and intriguingly. What exactly did he write in it that he was so sure of me? her mind wondered, but she snapped out of her thoughts just as quickly. Hell's sake, he is already getting into my head.

The rookie snatched the envelope from him, stuffing it into the glovebox. "I won't even think about it."

Tim shrugged. "Sure."

➤➤➤

Ollie had three men and a woman leaning against their shop, each with cuffed wrists at their back. The rookie was watching them sternly as she waited for the backup that she had called to help transport them back to Mid-Wilshire Station.

"Bet you don't have 'Arresting four on her own' written in the envelope," she snarked, well-pleased with her work, so far.

"No, but I do have 'Loses focus on patrol' in there somewhere."

"What?" Ollie snapped her head to him. "I am focused."

"No. Your focus is on the envelope," Tim pointed out, "after you said that you won't even think about it this morning."

Ollie gnawed on the inside of her cheeks. He's right, again.

And of course, he was.

100 shared shifts and car rides was easy for them to pick up on each other's bits and ticks.

Just like how she learned his odd tendency of hitting the gym midway through paperwork, knew his no-nonsense surface contrasted with his sympathetic interior, and noticed how domestic calls always got him riled up.

And he also often did a pretty darn good job in riling her up.

Tim watched the rookie silently, observing her with a sigh. "You want a tip?"

"No."

He rolled his eyes at her response. "Alright."

➤➤➤

Ollie pulled over by the curb of a suburban neighbourhood. Dispatch had informed them about a noise complaint. She approached the front yard of the given address, where a dog continued barking violently behind a chain-linked fence.

"LAPD! Anyone home?" she called out, but her voice was covered by the barking hound.

"That dog barks all the time," the neighbour, a brunette lady, informed the officers as she trimmed the bushes in her yard.

Olle reached to her back and took out a piece of dog biscuit, tossing it over the fence. "Hey, hush, hush..." The dog went after the treat, finally calming down a notch.

"You just happened to have that on you?"

"Tip from Jackson," Ollie replied, turning back to the neighbour. "Ma'am, do you know if the dog's owner is home?"

The lady nodded shortly.

"Shut up! Shut up, Missy!" the homeowner yelled as he stormed out of the house. The dog resumed its barking again, causing the owner to kick dirt at it.

"Whoa— there's no need for that," Ollie intervened curtly.

The man approached the fence, eyeing her displeasingly. "Honey, she's my dog. I can treat her however the hell I want," he spat.

Ollie refrained from rolling her eyes there and then. Instead, she cleared her throat, resting her hands on her duty belt. "Sir, we've received a complaint about your dog."

The man scoffed. "And I wonder who made it!" he bellowed out, snapping over to his neighbour, "Emma, you called the damn cops?!"

"Your dog's a menace! It's just bark, bark, bark— all day long!"

"It's a dog. It's kind of their thing."

"Uh, ma'am, I'll handle this," Ollie interrupted them, turning back to the dog's owner. "Sir, you should try to keep your dog from barking."

The man eyed her up and down, triggering an ick from the rookie. "No problem. I'm good at making bitches shut their mouths."

This time, Ollie rolled her eyes, exhaling heavily. The dog barked again; the man kicked yet another pile of sand and dirt onto the animal.

"Sir, can you stop abusing the dog?" she snapped.

"Or what?"

Technically, there was nothing she could do. But the whine of the dog gnawed at her; the heartless being before her, even more. Ollie took a step closer to the fence. "Or the next time I come back here, the dog will be the least of your concerns."

➤➤➤

"Sir. Dispatch says you wanted to see us," Tim stated as he trekked into the Watch Commander's office, with Ollie entering after him.

"Yeah, shut the door," Grey requested, and the rookie did so. "You know, I remember my Plain Clothes Day," he spoke, "It was a long time ago, but I remember it. Desperate to make an impression. My T.O. watching me like a hawk. But the pressure got to me, and I made all kinds of mistakes, stupid ones, too. And completely out of character," he cleared his throat, "Which is why, Officer Marshall, I sympathise with your situation."

Ollie stared at the Watch Commander, puzzled. "Um, I'm afraid I'm not following, sir."

Grey got up from his chair, picking up a piece of document on his desk. "We got a rude conduct complaint against you from a Rodney Acker," he notified. "He said you verbally threatened him to get his dog in line, or the next time, the dog will be the least of his concerns."

"I—" Ollie rubbed her forehead; now, she was properly irritated.

"Any way to cool this guy off, sir?" Tim tried asking.

"I tried, but he's pretty dug in. He wants to make it formal, so Internal Affairs has been notified," Grey muttered the words that sent a chill down the rookie's spine, "Captain Andersen is in meetings all day, but she wants to talk to you at the end of shift."

Ollie gulped, her gaze averting from the Watch Commander. "I- W-What..." she drew in a breath, "What disciplinary action am I looking at?"

Grey sighed. "Threatening a civilian is a serious offence for any officer, but to do it as a probationary employee? Even a minor infraction can have a serious impact."

The grave of her words had caught up to her, dragging her down a ledge; Ollie nodded silently.

The rookie and T.O. pair left the office. The former was rubbing her fingers. She drew in a deep breath before exhaling again; sweat was beading on her temples as her jaw clenched. She just had to catch her breath again—

"Boot, we're heading back out."

Nope, nope, nope.

"G-Give me a sec," Ollie fumbled out before dashing down the hallway, speeding off in another direction.

She found herself in the locker room with her forehead propped against her locker door and her eyes squeezed shut. She just needed a minute. Just a moment. Just a while. Just needed to stop her mind from breaking and heart from racing—

"Marshall?"

Lopez's voice caught her by surprise. She placed her magazine down on the bench as she approached the rookie. "What's going on?" Lopez asked, hesitating, "Did Tim cross a line, or..."

N-No, um," Ollie was trying her best not to stammer, "I, uh, threatened a civilian, who, um, filed a formal complaint. It just got to me, a-and I don't know, it j-just got to me, and I-I'm just..."

"...having a panic attack?"

Ollie bit down her cheeks, letting out another huff of breath.

"Okay, okay," Lopez moved her from the locker door to the bench, sitting the rookie down. "Don't think about the complaint right now, alright? Just focus on your breathing."

"It's hard not to think about it when I-I might get kicked out of the program."

"Don't think about that either," Lopez urged. "Look, you can't fix those things now, but you can help yourself right now. Just think about breathing, yeah? Deep breaths in..."

The rookie finally felt the blood flowing back to her fingertips after a bit, eventually freeing herself from the shallow breaths and gritting teeth.

"It's usually not this bad," Ollie smiled wearily. Lopez managed back a smile, still rubbing the side of the rookie's arm soothingly.

A set of footsteps charged into the locker room.

"Tim, this is the women's locker room—"

"What's going on here?" Tim asked instead, eyeing his friend and his rookie on the bench, confused.

"Nothing," Ollie cleared her throat first, getting up on her feet again. "Uh, Officer Lopez, thanks for the, um, yeah— Thank you." She then turned back to her T.O., who was still eyeing her dubiously, but she managed to usher him back out.

As they headed back to the garage to their shop, Tim was still questioning her momentary disappearance. "What happened?"

"Nothing worth mentioning," Ollie replied shortly.

Tim rolled his eyes, as if her denial could fool him. He had noticed that she had been tensed up since they left Grey's office. Her tightened jaw was an obvious sign, but her paled face was what gave her away.

100 shifts. He already knew her tough shell was an acquired façade, could list the sorts of calls that would make her twitchy, and gathered the ticks that would switch her into panic mode.

The spook behind her rattling eyes the day he stole her duty belt was also the day he concluded that he would not use his usual bullying-and-intimidation style to train this rookie.

"Ollie, I'm serious. Are you okay?" Tim punctuated his words heavily, his hand pushing against the car door when she tried opening it.

The rookie sighed, finally glancing up at him. He was still waiting for her response with furrowed brows, staring back at her solemnly. "I might actually be your twelfth rookie to wash out on Plain Clothes Day," she mentioned bleakly, "I think I'll stick to no."

➤➤➤

The rest of patrol was as tamed as it gets, prompting Ollie to further sink into her thoughts while her concern shifted from the envelope in the glovebox to the possible unemployment hanging around her neck. Tim had let her handle the calls for the rest of the shift, with only one request by nightfall.

"This is a bad idea," Ollie muttered as she pulled up in the very same house that led to her agitation. "He filed a complaint against me," she dulled, "I really, really shouldn't be anywhere near here."

"You're right," Tim agreed. "You shouldn't. I'm fine."

The rookie turned to him, a part of her was rather surprised. "Sir, can I say that it means a lot that you care about my future— but whatever you're going to do is kind of a bad idea?"

"You don't know what I'm going to do."

"Are you not about to knock on Mr Acker's front door?" the rookie presumed, "Because I don't believe we're here to check in on the dog."

Tim rolled his eyes at her accurate prediction. "Relax, Boot. I simply believe that if you're gonna get fired, it'll be because of me, not some asshat's rude conduct complaint," he remarked, opening the car door, "Stay here."

Ollie sank into her seat while watching Tim walk up the driveway to the front door and knock. Acker answered the door with the same arrogant and aggravated look. This is not going to end well, she grimaced while her T.O. engaged with the homeowner.

A motion sensor by the side of the house was triggered, and the lights lit up, unveiling the dog's location. Ollie huffed. At least the dog's safe for now, she relieved, But what is it sniffing at? In the garage? Is that a stain or is it just a poorly-painted door?

Ollie got out of the car intently.

Soft whines reached her ears, coming from the animal that was clawing the garage door. Strange. Acker bellowed out a string of profanities upon noticing her presence; Tim had snapped at the man, then.

She ignored his hollers and walked to the back of the car, popping open the trunk.

Within the next minute, Tim stalked back to the patrol car, looking grouchier than ever. "Told you to stay in the shop," he deadpanned. "What are you doing?"

"There's a... Is it a stain, or a bad paint job?" she mumbled, mostly to herself, as she held up the scope to her eyes, inspecting the dimly-lit garage. She could swear that the patch of colour was in a shade of red. "Is that blood?"

Tim took the scope from her and examined the garage door as well. "Could be blood. Could be something else."

"Yeah, but it could be blood, which gives me a probable cause to search that garage."

The T.O. glanced back at her. "Look, if you're wrong, he'll claim you're retaliating against him," he warned the rookie. "You'll definitely be fired, and he'll just add another zero to his settlement check with the city. Smart move here is to walk away."

Ollie hesitated. To save her own ass or to potentially get herself fired for good?

The dread of putting her job on the line again dried her throat, leaving her feeling tingly and shallow.

"Alright," she swallowed, shoving the scope back into the bag in the trunk. "Let's go."

➤➤➤

"Officer Marshall, report to Booking immediately."

Ollie headed over to the booking area as summoned. Her confusion was addressed when she saw none other than Acker being processed by Lucy and Avery. Her T.O. and the Watch Commander were there as well, both staring at her as the rookie approached the area.

"What..." Ollie gaped in shock, "What's he in for?"

"Officer Chen responded to a noise complaint to Mr Acker's address shortly after you left," Grey informed, his voice flat. "They found his neighbour in the garage. Dead. Stabbed in the neck by the homeowner."

Ollie felt her blood went cold. What...?

The stain on the garage door was not a bad paint job after all.

The rookie's gaze snapped towards the man, who returned her with a scowl. But there was a look of guilt behind his eyes. It was right there. Right there. She did not miss it— she disregarded it.

And her error made her sick to the stomach.

➤➤➤

Ollie stood outside the captain's office, looking lost. Andersen's phone call seemed to last forever, and the rookie is growing increasingly on edge. She had had a whole speech drafted out in her head while they were riding back from Acker's house, but now... her mind was void.

"End of shift, Boot. Don't you want to open your evaluation?" Tim's voice interrupted her panicking silence. The rookie merely stared at his outstretched hand holding the envelope. No part of her wanted to move right now. "Do it."

Half-heartedly, Ollie took the envelope that she had forgotten in the glovebox from him. She opened it and took out the paper inside, her mind still blank as she read the bottom of the evaluation:

Officer Marshall was proactive and gave her best in protecting the community.

It took her a while before she found her words again. "It is... positive."

"Yeah, that was what I had expected from you today. But now, I'm thinking that I really should've written 'loses focus on patrol' instead." Tim sighed at the rookie who looked spooked. "Look, I'll give it to you straight. You still have lots to learn, much to improve on," he took the paper back from the rookie and tore it up, "And I gotta rewrite this damn thing."

Every word of his sent an arrow through her soul, and watching him tear up the evaluation was just an extra kick in the guts.

The door to Andersen's office flung open behind her. "Officer Marshall, step inside."

Ollie's motion was robotic; Tim held her back briefly before she headed in. "Don't take today too negatively," he urged, though the disappointment on his face spoke to her otherwise. "Every shift is a learning opportunity."

"Right. Yeah," she mumbled, her throat dry, "If I still have another shift after today."

Ollie followed the captain into her office, feeling tense.

"You told Mr. Acker, and I quote, 'The next time I come back here, the dog will be the least of your concerns.'," Andersen read from the file in her hand.

Whatever speech Ollie had planned on delivering to the captain was nowhere to be found. "I'm sorry, ma'am," was all she managed out faintly.

"In today's LAPD — especially in my house — we don't threaten people. Not even the murderers."

"Yes, ma'am. Those words do not reflect the officer I am or the one I wish to be."

Andersen stared at her for a bit before nodding at last. "Fine. You may go."

The rookie shifted on her feet. "Ma'am, am I... still in the program?"

"Internal Affairs reached out. They wanted my take on this complaint," Andersen informed. "Given the circumstances, I'll recommend that they close it out. You are very lucky that Officer Chen found the dead body in Mr Acker's garage tonight. Because if she hadn't, you would've already had your locker packed up."

Just another kick to the guts.

Andersen sighed at the visibly spooked rookie, whose face paled in dread. "Officer Marshall, I see the potential especially in you to be an excellent cop. But if you ever let this job down again, I will not hesitate to put you on a career path far away from the LAPD. Do you understand?"

➤➤➤

Her breathing was short and jagged, her forehead trickled with sweat, her knuckles sore— but the enragement in her chest had yet to subside.

The gym was unoccupied at the wee hours of the night, and she was beyond glad for that.

The three other rookies had sat with her in the gym as she continued to try to relieve her frustrations. They tried to console her, but Ollie was trapped deep in her head, and neither of them could bring her back out.

"Go home, guys," she finally spoke when she paused briefly to rehydrate. "We have shift in the morning. And I'm nowhere close to getting today out of my chest."

"We'll sit with you," Lucy insisted, but the other woman shook her head.

"Don't. You know I'm as stubborn as it gets, and I just want to be alone now. Please?"

Worried looks were exchanged between Lucy, Jackson, and John, but they eventually listened to her. They got up, bid their goodnights, reminded her not to stay too late, then gave her her requested space. Jackson eyed her last before they headed off, shaking his head in defeat as he dug for his phone.

Ollie was left alone at last.

And the blood stain on the garage door haunted her more.

She was not sure how long she had been here, striking the punching bag over and over and over again. As though doing so could clear her mind; she had hoped for that, but nothing she knew and tried was working.

So, her current plan? Physically tiring herself out until she finally gives out.

Yeah, sounds solid enough.

But her head was ingesting her alive.

The gym door creaked open carefully — again — making her punches grow heavier. She need not look back to know who that was, but he was not a someone she wanted to see right now, for whatever reasons. The person just stood by the door leaning against the wall with his arms folded above his chest.

Until eventually, his presence bothered her.

"Why are you here?"

"It's getting late."

"I'm aware."

Another punch. Another kick.

He sighed heavily. "Listen, cops make bad calls more often than you think. Just because you made one bad call doesn't mean you're a bad cop, alright?" he tried, "In the end, Acker was still arrested for his actions. Everything is still right. Just take that."

Ollie finally tore her focus away from the punching bag, whirling around to meet his eyes. "Tim, he was my call. And I let a killer free because I wanted to save my own ass," she finally snapped, "There's nothing right about that."

Tim took in the strained look on her face. "Look, I haven't known you for long. But one thing I learned about you over the past hundred shifts is that you're always fighting for the right, no matter the call, no matter the circumstance," he stated. "You're strongly opinionated and never backed down in doing the right thing. And, well, you should know, I do admire that about you."

The look behind those blue eyes spoke sincerity, one that became an antidote to the chaos in her head.

Ollie finally loosened her jaw and fists. "I just really wanted to prove myself today," she admitted with a weak shrug of her shoulders, "Just... maybe a little too much."

Tim smiled lightly back at her, still leaning idly by the door. "You already do that every day," he assured, "And that's good enough for me."

In the quiet night, she nodded faintly at his words, still maintaining his gaze. "That... means a lot. Thanks."

"Yeah."

She finally left the punching bag, clenching and unclenching her fists to feel the soreness. She shrugged on the jacket laying on the floor, lifting her head to her T.O. again. "How did you know I was here?"

"West called."

"Of course, he did..."

Tim waited as she gathered her belongings and zipped up her jacket. "Go home, Boot, and get some sleep," he opened the door as she approached, "I'll see you in the morning. Don't be late."

Ollie shot him the same unamused glare he had wanted to see. "Sir, when have I ever been late?"

━━━━━

I actually had the original storyline with positive ending written out, then went like 'Nahhh' and changed it to negative instead,, just so I can add in the last part of Ollie & Tim's interaction 🙂‍↕️

So I basically have 3 different endings for this chapter, but I ultimately decided with this one cuz:

1) Angst is needed 😏

2) Not every journey is smooth sail (✨character development✨) :P

I may upload the alternate endings as drafts in the future tho 🤷🤷