S3 EP12

"Can I please switch partners with you today?" Ollie was practically begging Jackson by her kitchen counter.

The man quirked a brow at her. "Why? You like riding with Avery."

"I do, yes. But, well, remember how I introduced him to Charlie? I'm afraid I might've set them up too well," Ollie sighed, passing her phone to him, "Charlie has been bombarding me with details about their dates. And I really, really don't wanna spend my entire shift listening to Avery talking about it, too."

Jackson scrolled through the conversation with a suppressed smirk. "Don't wanna feel single?"

"Shut up." Ollie flashed him a glare, snatching her phone back with another loud sigh.

Jackson chuckled instead. "So, what, you want me to take your place and hear Avery retelling his nights?"

"Pretty much."

"Wait—" he stared at his plate of bacon and eggs, "—is this breakfast a bribery?"

Ollie smiled weakly. "Is it working?"

"Definitely not," Jackson rejected her shortly. "I don't want to feel single, either."

➤➤➤

Sure enough, Ollie had to convince her mind of tranquillity when the man driving just could not shut up.

One of their suspects was brought to the hospital after a serious injury during their scene, and the pair of officers were now waiting for updates from the doctors. Ollie heard about Henry fainting that morning, supposedly related to his heart condition, and had decided to pay John a visit in the waiting area.

The elevator doors opened two floors before their stop, and they met Tim and Nyla, who were heading up as well. "Look, being in a hospital in uniform is like asking every rando to make their problems yours," Tim was saying.

"We'll be in and out. I just want to make sure he's okay," Nyla assured, turning to the two other cops in the elevator. "Hey."

"Hey, morning," Ollie greeted them. "Checking in with Nolan as well?"

"Yeah. Bringing him breakfast," Nyla replied, gesturing to the bag of food in her hand.

Avery nodded at the other two before leaning back against the elevator wall with folded arms, his eyes still glittering. "Oh my god, and he's such— a— flirt—!" he continued. Both Tim and Nyla peered at him; Ollie groaned. "You know, he is so smooth with his words, it makes me swoon— I didn't even know I could swoon! And, and— I swear to god, the way he speaks makes me want to get down and—"

"Aughh," Ollie grimaced, sending a look at the man. "Avery, I'm either bashing my head into the wall right now, or I'm bashing yours. I beg you to not— Just— J-Just not!"

Nyla snorted, quirking a brow at her. "Didn't you set them up?"

"Yes," Ollie grumbled, "And I may be starting to regret it now..."

The elevator dinged, and the door opened to their floor. They spotted John zoned out in the waiting area, and the four officers approached him.

"Brought you breakfast," Nyla broke her rookie's anxious silence.

John turned to her abruptly. "Oh. Thank you," he noted, "Um, not much of an appetite right now, but I'll hang onto that."

"Hey, how's Henry?" Ollie asked.

"Uh, just waiting on some, uh, final test results."

Tim's phone rang between them, and he fished it out, frowning at the contact immediately. "Excuse me," he had barely muttered before he stalked off.

The others fell back into an uneasy silence when Grey arrived at the waiting area. All four of them got up at once. "Morning, sir."

"Good morning," Grey nodded at them, "Can I get a minute with Officer Nolan?"

"Of course, sir," Nyla responded, turning back to John quickly. "Text me if you need anything."

"Right. Thank you," John smiled weakly at her, then mumbled a 'Bye' to Ollie and Avery.

"Any of you saw where Tim went?" Nyla asked the other two, who were still trailing after her.

Ollie pointed at one of the corridors. "Right down there, I'm sure."

They turned down the next corridor, where they found Tim pacing back and forth, still on the phone. "That's crap. I gave you a deposit," Tim grumbled, "I expect it back." He ended the call and glanced at the three cops, who had walked up to him out of curiosity. "I just lost the venue for Lopez's bachelorette party," he informed, turning to Nyla, "Where'd you have yours?"

"I eloped so I wouldn't have to have one."

"That's actually pretty smart," Ollie remarked, and Nyla nodded proudly in response.

Tim rolled his eyes, not finding her answer helpful for his situation. "Well, if you were planning one for a friend?" he asked again.

"I try and stay out of no-win situations like those," Nyla answered again, "Cuts down on the drama."

"And that's even smarter," Avery snickered.

Tim shook his head defeatedly. "Great."

Nyla mused, but her amused smile started to drop when she spotted two men in suits at the other end of the corridor. "Concealed weapons, twelve o'clock," she notified the others.

Tim rolled his eyes. "What'd I tell you? We haven't even been here five minutes, we're already getting pulled into trouble."

Nyla shot him a look, then eyed at the officers trailing behind them. "Officer Marshall, wanna take the lead on this one?"

"Sure." Ollie stepped up immediately as the four cops approached the two men. "Morning, gentlemen," she greeted, "You know the drill. Concealed carry permits, please— slowly."

They reached inside their suit pocket and handed over their permits. One of the men with slick-back hair eyed them carefully. "So, what? They're recruiting cops from the modelling schools now?" he jested, "I can't tell which one of you's prettier."

"Clearly me," Ollie muttered, examining their documents closely. "So, who's your client?"

"Sorry. Not at liberty to say," the man replied as the officer handed them back their permits, "We signed a non-disclosure."

Ollie narrowed her eyes at them. "That's not exactly how this works," she stated, but quickly caught the man peeking at the corridor to her right. She followed his gaze and spotted a woman walking alongside one of the doctors. "I'll take a guess."

"La Fiera," Nyla noted.

Tim sighed instead. "Great. Now we're gonna be here all day."

Mr Slick-back poked his head towards the officer. "Are we cool?"

Ollie leaned back, sparing him a glance. "Yeah." As the two men — assumedly bodyguards — walked off, she turned back to her fellow officers, huddling in a circle.

"What do you think she's doing here?" Avery questioned.

Tim shook his head heavily. "Nothing good."

➤➤➤

Jackson had popped into the hospital's cafeteria after dropping their arrestee off in the emergency department. He returned with a pack of sugar donuts; Lucy eyed him amusedly. "Oh, that's what you're having for breakfast?"

"Hey, this happens to have eight percent of the recommended daily allowance of riboflavin," Jackson enlightened.

"Hey, you two," Ollie poked into the E.R., grinning at them both. "What's with the phone call?" She nodded at Lucy.

"I'm trying to get in touch with the local housing assistance program for Tamara," Lucy explained, "They give grants to teens who age out of foster care to help them get into transitional apartments. Except, they have these crazy-long hold times."

"Oh. Good luck with that," Ollie smiled weakly. "Tamara's camped on your couch in the meantime?"

"Yeah. 'Cause Jackson's room is still yet to be done..."

Ollie shrugged. "Oh, don't worry. I quite like having company," she chuckled, "Especially when I wake up to ready breakfast in the morning and done chores at the weekend."

Jackson smiled back at her wearily, munching on his donut. "Happy to be there," he muffled. "You waiting for a suspect as well?"

"In surgery. Ruptured spleen," Ollie replied. "You?"

Jackson pointed at one of the curtains. "Our girl sped up and crashed herself. How's your shift with Avery so far?"

Ollie shuddered at the mention of it. "Glad that I managed to escape him for now," she murmured, "He really, really cannot stop talking."

"Or maybe it's just you that feel lonely?" Jackson suggested, giving Lucy a knowing look. Ollie caught the odd glance between her two friends and furrowed her brows at them alarmingly.

"Okay— No. Not a word," Ollie grumbled at them, nodding instead at the pack of food in his hand. "Is that your breakfast?"

"Ha! That's what I said!" Lucy laughed.

The curtain where Jackson and Lucy's suspect was behind was drawn open, and a nurse stepped away from the young woman at the hospital bed and gestured at the cops. "She's all yours."

"Thank you," Jackson nodded back, fishing out for his radio, "Control, suspect is medically cleared. We are en route to lower booking."

"Copy."

"Angels West. How can I help you?" A voice responded through Lucy's call, causing her and Jackson to yelp in excitement.

Unfortunately, their arrestee took this chance to run off again.

"Oh, there she goes," Ollie mused, eyeing the doors that the woman on the bed had just burst through while her fellow friends cursed in annoyance. Jackson had shoved her his remaining donuts and told her to take care of them for him, but Ollie refused. "Hell no, I'm joining you—"

And that was how three cops chased through the hallways of Shaw Memorial after one suspect.

They followed down through the lobbies, down the stairs, and made it outside of the main hospital building. They finally found the woman amongst the packed people by the hospital's entrance, rushing up to her instantly.

"Turn around. Put your hands up," Lucy called out.

The woman, swayed around, looking pale and dizzy. "Something's wrong," she managed to speak, clutching her stomach— before collapsing onto the ground immediately.

Lucy moved to check on her while Jackson yelled out for a gurney. When he glanced back at his friend, his eyebrows were narrow. "Did you eat my donuts?"

"No."

"There's sugar on your fingers."

Ollie peered at her fingertips, then hid her hands behind her. "No."

➤➤➤

"Do you guys know that La Fiera's in town?" Ollie voiced out in the fainted woman, Billie's patient room, along with Jackson and Lucy.

Jackson snapped his head at her. "What? Since when?"

"Who told you?" Lucy asked instead.

"I was checking her bodyguards' firearm permit, you know, and then I saw her — with my own eyes — walking down the hallway," Ollie storied, her voice hushed. "I still don't know what's she here for, but I think Harper is figuring that out as we speak."

"Whatever she's here for, it's nothing good," Jackson commented.

Lucy nodded. "Definitely."

The woman stirred on the bed before them, and the three cops instantly turned their attention to her. Billie finally noticed the officers in her room, trying to move her limbs— quickly finding that she had been cuffed onto the bedframe.

"Yeah. No more running," Jackson declared.

Lucy and Jackson pushed off from the wall to approach their suspect while Ollie hung back to observe. Billie sighed in defeat on the bed, still feeling groggy.

"What happened?"

"You had severe abdominal pain and passed out," Jackson informed her flatly, "Doctor ordered a C.T. scan and an X-ray."

Billie's expression turned alarming as she shifted on the bed. "Uh, no, I don't want that."

"I bet," Lucy stated cooly, "'cause you've got a stomach full of drug balloons."

Billie glanced at her, then at Jackson, then at Ollie by the side. "No, I don't."

Jackson looked amused. "Okay. Billie, we are trained police officers," he stated, "You had a ticket to Ibiza in your pocket. You ran from the cops, and now you appear to have serious intestinal issues."

"We're gonna have proof soon," Lucy chipped in, still trying to convince their suspect to cave, "so just tell us what kind of drugs they are."

"Can't you just leave me alone? Please?"

"No," Lucy interjected. "And right now, getting busted for drugs is the least of your problems. The real concern is if one of those drug balloons in your stomach bursts."

The woman on the bed still stared at the cop in utter annoyance.

Ollie sighed by the wall. Time for scare tactics, then.

"You know, if it's coke or meth, your heart rate will rapidly accelerate until full cardiac arrest, and then the muscles in your chest will tear apart as you slowly suffocate. If it's heroin, fentanyl, or an opioid, you're gonna be high for a bit, then you'll crash. Basically, you're gonna vomit till you're dead."

Billie cracked a smile, chuckling lightly. "Well, then we're fine. It was just Molly," she shared, "Those are happy pills."

"MDMA?" Jackson deadpanned. "How much?"

Billie furrowed her brows in recollection. "Uh... four condoms. Like... eighty pills each?"

Jackson blinked at her, and Lucy was already on the move. "I'll tell the doctor," she notified hastily, pulling out her radio, "Control, notify on-call narcotics. We have a kilo-plus mule in custody."

"What's wrong?" Billie asked, eyeing Ollie with a confused look on her face.

"Well, one of those packets bursting means you'll start to hallucinate," Ollie enlightened her, "Your body temp will rise so high, you'll die from a heat stroke during the worst nightmare of your life."

➤➤➤

Hours later, Ollie and Avery returned to Shaw Memorial again with a different suspect.

"Do you think we're going to be here long?" Ollie asked.

"Our guy was literally pulled out of a car wreck," Avery cocked a brow at her, "And the E.M.T.s said he passed out twice on the way here."

She nodded with a sigh. "I'm grabbing a coffee, then. You want one?"

"Yeah, sure."

Ollie left Avery in the waiting area while she ventured down the hallways in search of a vending machine that sold coffee. When she eventually located one, she also found a familiar figure standing in front of it. Despite her intentionally silenced footsteps, Tim noticed her approaching while she walked down the corridor.

"Hey. Your ruptured-spleen guy is still here?"

"Back with a second suspect, actually," Ollie replied, standing beside him as she skimmed through the coffee options. "I'm assuming you're still on the La Fiera case?"

Tim exhaled heavily. "Yeah."

"Catch me up on it?" Ollie asked. "My suspect is in the E.R. right now, and will be there for a bit— oh, thanks."

He watched as her eyes glimmered when he handed her a cup of coffee. She took the cup with a grateful smile and took a sip— just the right sweetness, yum.

"You remember Mack Daniels?" Tim asked, returning to the machine to get himself another coffee.

"Your buddy that O.D.'d in the U.C. convention? What about him?"

"He's working as private security for Tomás Madrigal."

She raised a brow in surprise, slanting against the side of the coffee machine. "As in the largest drug kingpin in Southern California?"

"And a subject in multiple ongoing investigations," he confirmed, picking up his coffee before stepping aside. "He has cancer, already in his final days. Security footage earlier today showed that La Fiera paid him a visit. And she was back again a bit ago. Harper and Lopez managed to wiretap them."

"La Fiera conversing with a dying drug lord. What could possibly go wrong?"

"She wants to take over his business," he clarified, leaning against the wall beside her.

"Well, that is all that's gonna go wrong," she remarked bleakly.

He nodded in agreement as they fell into a comfortable silence, shoulder-to-shoulder, just like how it was in their shop. Tim took a gulp of his coffee, savouring her presence more than the brew; he had missed having her poke his brain more than he would admit, even to himself.

At the same time, Ollie had to convince herself not to inch closer — Ain't finding myself trapped between the coffee machine and him enough? — while she let her mind diverge with the information she had received.

"Why is she even here?" Ollie asked eventually.

Tim turned to face her with folded arms. "Her son got a knee injury from soccer."

"Hmm." She took another sip of her coffee, trying not to think about how his lazy stance leaning sideways against the wall was sending her head in turmoil. Man, those arms, man. Clearing her throat, she asked again, "Well, what now?"

"Nothing we can do for now. They've done nothing illegal," he shrugged resignedly. "But Lopez is trying to make a case against her. She might just have enough resources to launch a task force."

She nodded intently. "That's great."

"It is."

Ollie was staring, and she knew it. It was getting increasingly hard not to, after all. Whether or not he noticed, she did not know, but even if he did, he did not seem to mind. Tim watched her closely, too, the repetitive tapping against her coffee cup, the gulp at her neck, the clenching jaw, the parted lips — oh, her parted lips — and he dared meet her eyes again.

The direct eye contact was perhaps a little too much for her mind to remain sensible. Her mind left her with literally two options: kiss him, or—

Ollie had finally managed to tear her gaze away from those blue eyes and had to sip on her coffee — that he bought — again to quiet down her mind. She sensed his burning stare at the side of her head for a while more before he followed her gaze to stare out of the hospital through the large windows.

Tim took in a sharp breath and exhaled deeply, his jaw clamped tight. Was he about to make a move? In a hospital hallway? Yeah, probably. Probably wasn't a good idea, either. Then again, it was not his head that was doing the thinking; the flutter in his chest proved otherwise.

"This block has a bad view," she eventually spoke, her voice light.

"Hm?"

"Patients on this block would look out their window and see the streets, more cars, more noise," Ollie elaborated. "When I used to stay with my mom in the hospital, our block had a view of a park, some greenery. In the mornings, there would be elderly exercising. In the evening, I'd see kids chasing each other. At night, well, it was quiet. And I slept easily since I didn't have to worry about her. We were already at the hospital, after all... I miss the nights. It was peaceful at night."

He glanced over at her slowly. "How old were you, then?"

"Ten, maybe eleven," she shrugged. "The nurses would always make sure I've done my homework and all. They'd bring me Jell-O's after each piece of work I had done. I'd stack them into towers," she smiled lightly at the recollection, "I don't have entirely bad memories with hospitals. Just the ones that stick are often the bad ones, and they still kinda haunt me whenever I bring a suspect who's high or has already O.D.'d into the E.R."

"I heard you would take the extra measure to make sure they speak to a counsellor about rehab."

She turned to him curiously. "How do you know about that?"

"Avery has a leaky mouth," he shrugged.

"Of course he does," she snorted, shaking her head. "I can't help everyone, and I know not everyone wants to take advice. But there are some who changed their lives, you know? Lots of them with kids or siblings... There was this call, Jackson and Angela pulled over a boy behind the wheel. His sister had overdosed in the backseat. She promised him that she would stay clean for him, and she's now five months sober and doing pretty well in school."

"That's great news." Tim smiled lightly back at her.

"It is, yeah." Ollie nodded gently in response. Her gaze slowly dropped to the floor, and the smile on her face gradually faltered.

He took a few guesses on what was in her head. "You're thinking about why your mom couldn't do that for you, aren't you?"

She let out a weak chuckle. "That obvious?"

He shrugged. "A little."

"I mean, I no longer care if she did, 'cause I turned out well enough," she sighed, "But the kid in me had always held onto that what-if... I try not to think about it too often."

"But you still do."

"Yeah, I still do. I'm human, after all."

"A really strong one."

"Nah. I'm okay."

"You are," he asserted. "When do you plan to acknowledge that?"

Ollie glimpsed at him; the genuine yet soft look behind his eyes clung to her. The question circled her mind, and truth be told, she was not sure— she did not know if she even had a plan to do so. "When I get what I desire, maybe."

He examined her expression closely. "And what do you desire?"

But he did not receive a response, only a grin tugged against the corner of her lips.

He was staring now.

Does she know?

Does she know that she makes my mind scramble, and my head feel all light?

He would tell her.

Some day.

Not today.

Right now, he would salvage the moment they shared and hold onto the feeling in his chest, before—

"Officer under fire. Parking garage, level four, Shaw Memorial. At least three shooters. Send backup."

Out of a trance, both officers turned alert at Angela's call.

"That sounded like a lot of gunshots."

"Let's hurry," Tim urged, already heading towards the nearest stairwell. Ollie took a final large gulp of coffee before dumping the empty cup in the bin and rushing through the held-open door.

They took the stairs two floors up and exited into the parking lot, already hearing the firing shots on the other end. Heading towards the scene, they met Avery and Nyla, who had arrived from a different stairwell. Avery looked relatively surprised to see Ollie in the parking lot.

"You're here, too? Where were you? And where was my coffee?"

Ollie's voice fell a little. "Oh, right. About that..."

Avery cocked a brow at her. "Uh-huh."

"I got her preoccupied," Tim interjected, drawing out his gun, along with the three others. "Come on. We got to move."

Avery hung back a little, looking perplexed. "Preoccupied as in..."

Ollie flashed him an alarming stare, her eyes wide. "Avery, you need to spend less time with Charlie."

Avery scoffed, looking wronged as she left him to hurry forward. "Everyone has needs—!"

The four cops moved through the parking lot, using the parked vehicles as cover while cautiously approaching the scene. They gathered that Angela and La Fiera were taking cover behind a car and a column with four shooters shooting at them from three separate directions. Tim signalled them to split into two groups, with Nyla and Avery already heading towards the gunshots through the left side.

Ollie and Tim took the opposite direction and advanced following the wall, taking a brief stop behind a concrete column. Tim peeked at the two shooters, who had not realised their presence just a short distance away.

"I'll take these two," he stated.

Ollie nodded. "I'll get the big guy."

"Not that big." Tim managed to scowl at her.

Ollie ducked behind a wall to head to the shooter furthest away from them, steadying her steps and her grip on her firearm. She heard the gunshots from the other side of the wall ceasing abruptly; Tim had easily reprimanded them.

"Control, 7-Adam-19. Two in custody, two active shooters remaining. We need an R.A. Hispanic male, gunshot wound to the torso. Conscious and breathing."

She paused behind a large container, listening to the gunshots of her suspect, waiting for her moment.

"Control, 7-Adam-13. One more in custody, one active shooter remaining."

When she heard the firing die down, it took her less than a second to emerge from the container and move towards the man, who currently had his back facing her. Ollie cocked her gun, pointing it at him firmly; the man had finally realised her presence.

"Drop the gun now. Arms out," Ollie instructed calmly, and the man was caught in a position unable to disobey. At last, he lowered himself onto the floor and spread his arms apart. The cop approached to first kick his firearm away from reach before picking out her radio. "Last suspect in custody. Code 4."

While crouched over the man to place handcuffs on him, Ollie heard a piercing cry.

A cry of agony of a mother who had just lost her child.

And hell, was it excruciating.

━━━━━

Avery: 🤨😏

I so adore their coffee exchange 🥹

La Fiera is backkk which also means we're getting closer to ☠️💥🔫

(a.k.a. this is the ✨calm before the storm✨ chapter 🫢)