San Francisco's Police Department stood tall and proud in its old fashioned red brick glory. It was situated in the middle of the bustling city. The outside resembled a time when private detectives were actively called dicks—out of respect, though. This building exuded the no funny business like no authority figure could ever dream. Hardened criminals, laughing cops, and agitated citizens moved freely about this area, leaving and entering the massive brown doors.
James T. Kirk climbed the eight gray concrete stairs and just stood there. He marveled at the looming building. It kind of reminded him of his police academy instructor. She was a tall, heavy lady with chronic bad breath. Her temper was legendary. She was probably the biggest hard-ass at the academy. If you so much as made stray eye contact with her, she would be on you like flies on shit. Your personal bubble would be popped, and she glared at cadets until they felt at least two inches tall. But if you could survive her, you were guaranteed to graduate. She could make Vulcans cry. So entering this building was nothing compared to her, Jim reasoned.
He took a deep and pulled on the brash knob. Jim entered and made his way to the woman sitting behind the barred receptionist area.
“Hi, I'm James Kirk here to meet Captain Pike.” He grinned, but the receptionist only flicked a glare at him and return to her paperwork.
“What for?” she asked bored.
He gaped before answering, “I'm here as a new detective.” Her head lifted slowly and gave him an appraising look. “I was told to be here at this time.”
“Back through there.” Her pen pointed towards the double doors.
“Thanks...”Jim eyed her name plate. “Lyndell,” and winked.
He walked along the white corridor. The outside might be a 1970s architectural replica, but inside the building was a marvel of 23rd century technology. Polished steel glimmers new. Touchscreens stand guard outside evidence rooms and jail cells. A few androids roam the place looking blank and stern. The chrome halls remind Jim of the inside a starship. He laughs quietly to himself about that comparison.
When Jim pushed through the double into the busy work room, he had no idea where to find Pike. There were people in suits rushing around yelling at each other, a couple crying people, and the phones were ringing nonstop. Everything was a whorl wind of activity, and Jim was trapped confused in the middle of it.
“Kirk, get your ass over here!” Jim turned to see Pike calling him from the doorway of his office. He grinned.
“I was wondering where I'd find you. This place is so busy today,” Jim said as he sank in the chair in front of Pike's wide and cluttered desk. Kirk looked around the dark paneled room. The walls were filled with frames of awards and honors. Jim knew that Pike was a good man, but he never realize how good of a cop Pike was until entering his office.
Pike huffed and sank into his large leather chair. “Mostly wannabe heroes trying to call in. Always happens after the news runs an ad asking for leads. We're pretty much at a dead end with this missing girl case.” His brows scrunched the more he talked until he sighed. “But, that isn't why you're here.” He smiled. “No, old Jimmy is getting a promotion. Welcome to the force, Detective Kirk.”
Jim shook the extended hand. “Glad to be here. I can't believe that I've been working the beat for one year, and now I'm here.” And he could not have done it without Pike pushing him. Ever since he picked Jim up for dealing small time drugs, Pike has been on his ass, telling Jim that he's dumb ass if he doesn't actually use he genius for something other than evading the law.
“Well, it's not like you don't deserve it. You've come a long way, but don't let that get to your head. You still have to prove yourself to everyone out there.” He nods towards the busy work room. “You're gonna have to earn respect, but I think you can do it.”
Jim looked back at the crazed scene behind him. Detectives were rushing about the room each with their own frown of determination. Some were typing reports, others shouting or talking into their phones, and few were soothing worried citizens. Jim was silently concerned with how he would keep up these seasoned officers. He laughed, “wouldn't be the first time.”
“You wouldn't be here if you hadn't proven yourself already. Highest exam scores in your class when you graduated. Highest arrest record in your precinct. I couldn't let a good cop spin his wheels in one spot. You're just lucky that Uhura just quit.”
Jim grew antsy with this unwarranted praise. “Well sir, I wasn't trying to break records, just doing what any good cop would do—get criminals off the street.” And that was true enough. He loved his promotion, too. Jim Kirk was not content staying in one place for long when he felt like he could make a difference somewhere else. Being detective gave him that opportunity to do more than just sign parking tickets and slap cuffs on misdemeanor offenders. He wanted to take down big drug rings or you know solve cases. Bring Justice to the mean streets. Jim laughed at himself. He's read too many mystery novels.
Pike waved him off. “You did good work, and you're being rewarded. Enough small talk. Let's get you introduced and settled in.” He stood and motioned for Jim to follow.
They passed through the loud workroom and walked into the quiet, empty locker room. “This is where you'll lock away your stuff before shift.” Small screens were attached to each blue locker. Pike pointed to one in front of them. “This one's yours. Already got your hand print registered on it. Just press your hand on it and you're in.”
Pike motioned behind the lockers. “Back there's the break room where you can catch some sleep if you're working a tough case. It isn't a nap while I'm on duty room.”
Pike turned on his heel and lead Jim back into the work room and out into the hall. They passed a couple doors until they made it to a room with another touchscreen. Pike placed his on the pad and the door slid open. He motioned Jim forward. “This is the evidence lockup. You will always put evidence in here and fill out the necessary paperwork.” His tone left no room for mistakes.
“Aye, is that the Captain I hear.” A scottish trill shouted from behind shelves of storage.
“Yeah, Scotty, we're out here. Come meet our newest detective.” Jim heard a clank and mild curse before he saw the scotsman.
“Well, looky here, a new recruit.” He reached out his hand. “Montgomery Scott, lad.”
“Ah.” Mr. Scott stared Jim down with an intense and somewhat crazed glare. “Jim Kirk.”
“Scotty here is in charge of lock up and tech. If you need a phaser or anything analyzed, he's your guy.”
“Aye, I've got ye covered, Detective. I've been in this precinct since the chrome was set. I'm the man with the tech you need.”
“Thank you, Mr. Scott,” Jim responded somewhat awkwardly. This man was intense and had so much energy. Jim didn't know how to respond to him.
“Nah, call me Scotty. Mr. Scott makes me feel old and so formal. We're all friends here.” Jim had to laugh. The guy, Scotty, was friendly enough. He seemed the type of guy you could get drinks with after a good long shift.
Pike and Jim walked the hallway. “Scotty's eccentric but he's got a good heart, and he'll go all the way to help.” Jim nodded at this; he could tell.
Again, Jim was in the work room, but the noise and chaos seemed to have toned down. Detectives were reclined at their desks, some typing reports. The citizens had been taken away to quiet rooms. The constant shrill of phones died down to an occasional ring.
“And now, let's meet your new partner.”
Jim looked at all the detectives busy with their respective work. The workroom was set up like a classroom—two columns of desks pushed to each side. Kirk could tell who had a partner or not since the detectives' desks were paired together. Only one desk seemed to be clutter free which was in front of a stoic Vulcan furiously doing paperwork.
“Don't tell me it's the Vulcan,” Jim nearly whined. He wasn't xenophobic or anything, but Vulcans were notorious hard asses, and Jim didn't know if he was ready for that kind of commitment. He kinda expected a semi-alcoholic jester. Or maybe the guy who had seen things, but never an always-go-by-the-book, finish-paperwork-on-time-and-in-tripilcates Vulcan.
“Yes, it's the Vulcan,” Pike sounded exasperated. “His partner quit and became a journalist. You may have heard of her—Nyota Uhura. She's been writing stories about seemingly random kidnappings. Didn't think she could get the right kind of justice here, so she decided to write it about. Damn shame too. She was one of the best.” Pike got that far away look like Uhura had been something to see and someone to miss.
They stopped in front of Jim's new desk and partner. At least the chair looked comfortable, Jim lamented, though his partner did not.
“Spock, this is Jim Kirk. You're new partner.”
Jim stuck out his hand. “How ya doing there?” He put on his most charming smile, but Spock looked faintly disgusted.
“Put your damn hand away,” Pike corrected. Jim awkwardly looked between Spock, his hand, and Pike. Good start, Jim.
“It is alright, Captain. As you have already mentioned, Mr. Kirk,” Oh lord, he heard me whine to Pike. “I am Vulcan, and therefore do not shake hands.” Kirk felt five years old again, getting rebuked for eating a cookie before dinner. He should have known better.
“Ah, right. My bad.” Pike prodded him in the ribs.
“Well, I guess I better back to my work and let you two become best friends.” Pike smiled and ran back to his office.
Jim turned back to Spock and was greeted with a raised eyebrow and awkward silence. Best friends riiight.
Kirk sat down in his leather chair, and oh it felt nice. He had been right; this chair is nice. The cushiony chair supported his back and head as Jim leaned back with a sigh. Oh yeah, his fat booty could enjoy.
“Ahem,” Spock cleared his throat. Kirk instantly straightened embarrassed.
“So, how long have been on the force?” Time for awkward getting to know you small talk.
“5.3 years.” Spock seemed to have that air of seniority. It may not be that “I've seen things” kind of attitude, but he did exude an air of “I know how to do this”. He was experienced. Maybe Kirk could learn a few things from him if they ever got to know each other. Though, the Vulcan did look young. The black silky hair and blank smooth skin looked like it had never been scratched or damaged. No, but Kirk glanced at the dark eyes and could feel the depth of his experience.
“Kirk, I will be honest. I do not participate in small talk. It is useless and inefficient. All you must know is that I am your partner and we must work together. I will, as my old partner used to say, 'have your back', and I hope you will do the same.”
Jim felt stunned into silence. Okay, so they wouldn't be buddy buddy, he could deal with that. All he really need was a good cop to help him. “You can count on me, Spock.”
“Good. Also, I will have you know that my arrest current arrest record is the highest in the precinct. I do not expect to lose that position. That means that I expect you to match that efficiency. I do not tolerate idle partners.”
Jim thought that he should be offended. The human can't match up to my Vulcan efficiency. Well, Jim didn't have the highest records at the academy for nothing. Jim wasn't the kind of guy to be second best or to watch crimes go unsolved. Oh Jim will prove to Spock that he isn't some lazy, good looking cop who got here just 'cause Pike knew him.
“I'll be honest too, Spock. I don't tolerate much either. For example, my new partner expecting me to do the worst. I worked hard to be here, and I will continue to work hard to be here. Don't worry about that. Just know that I care about my job, and I will have your back.” Jim set his jaw in challenge. “So, Spock, is there anything else to be said.”
Spock's eyes flicked Jim's body then settled on his baby blues. He gave a small nod as if he approved then returned to his paperwork. Jim felt as though he had passed some secret test. Does that mean Spock approves of him as his partner? God, let's hope so.