Archive of Our Own

JAMROCK STREET MARKET – You have managed to bring your partner, Kim Kitsuragi, to the weekly street market in the heart of Jamrock, on Boogie Street. Activity thrums around you. There are a plethora of stands, ranging from fresh (and less than fresh) vegetables; to fish with bulging eyes and open mouths gawking from where they lay in their bed of ice; to overpriced tchotchkes of unknown provenance. There are even paintings of questionable artistic merit!

A child tugs at her father’s sleeve, pointing at the hard-candy stall. You nearly trip on an escaped chicken, and then on its presumed owner, who is chasing it angrily with a cudgel of some kind.

PERCEPTION (SMELL) [Trivial: Success] – This place stinks.

YOU – Pinch your nose. Then remember your fingers smell bad from rooting around in a suspect’s apartment dumpster an hour ago, and lower your fingers.

LOGIC [Trivial: Success] – You are a man of Many Smells. Trying to keep them out is futile. Besides, it’s Jamrock–quaint weekly market aside, it’s not the cleanest part of the city. There is no way to eradicate l’odeur of sewage and garbage. This is the smell of home.

YOU – What’s Kim doing?

KIM KITSURAGI – The lieutenant walks a straight line before you, wrists clasped behind his back. His measured steps cut through the crowd with precision. For a small man he has a big presence, and you are amazed at how the tide of people parts before him, splitting easily as if Kim is a hot knife moving through butter.

INLAND EMPIRE [Formidable: Success] – It’s something in his stiffness, and the firm set of his shoulders. He looks like an unstoppable force, and the crowd in the street does not wish to be the immovable object that he meets. He shows deference when passing children, women, the elderly, the infirm, but he does not move aside for the rude or the brutish.

He spent a childhood learning how to appear bigger than he is when necessary, or unassuming to avoid conflict. Like a bird normally camouflaged flaring its feathers in the face of a predator for an intimidation display. 

YOU: Smile, because you’re a love-drunk idiot and Kim Kitsuragi is a miracle.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Hey, that stand on the right is selling alcohol. We could be, like, an actually drunk idiot right now.

VOLITION [Formidable] – Perhaps we should resist the urge to get tits-up blasted on duty. Especially in sight of our straight-laced partner. Also, you’d be breaking your rather impressive sober streak. Also also, you’re basically broke.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Three MONTHS of sobriety! I’m fucking sick of it! And you haven’t even gotten your dick wet since–

VOLITION – Yeah, let’s not think about that night in the shack with Kim.

YOU – Try not to think about that night, but wind up staring at Kim’s trim ass like the big dumb animal you are anyways.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Godly: Failure] – Yes, let’s keep staring. That’s all we’ll get. The lieutenant certainly doesn’t seem to think about that night–he refused to talk about it the rest of the week in Martinaise, and you’ve been scared to bring it up again since his transfer. It’s miracle enough that he even went through with the transfer after your inept nighttime pawing. Perhaps he’s keeping an eye on you, to ensure you don’t assault another unsuspecting lieutenant.

DAMAGED MORALE -1

KIM KITSURAGI – He glances back at you over his shoulder–it’s unusual that he is not the one following you, which might be part of why you’re having trouble not enjoying the view . The lieutenant raises an eyebrow and calls back to you. “Come, detective–we really should be getting back to the precinct!” 

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] – The lieutenant is eager to log the evidence you found in that dumpster–and to put in an interview request with the victim’s boss at the pool parlor where he worked.

YOU – I really should hurry. Before Kim gets mad at me.

SUGGESTION – It took all of your cunning to get the lieutenant this way in the first place. Let’s not hurry off! You may or may not have lied about it being a quicker route back to the 41st; he still trusts your knowledge of Jamrock over his own. Do you want that lie to be for nothing?

YOU – Continue falling behind to gawk at the market wares. Like a dog stopping to investigate a smell, when you notice your master has gotten too far ahead, you jog lightly to catch up and begin the process anew. 

AUTHORITY – Wait, wait, wait. Did you just think of the Lieutenant as your master?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Yes, let’s pursue that thought more. Dog collars… Leashes… Kim…

YOU – No. No no no no. (Grab your big old head in your hands and shake off the urge.)

COMPOSURE [Challenging: Success] – You succeed in shaking the horny thoughts from your head, for now. Why don’t you distract yourself with some window shopping. 

YOU – Stop at one of the stalls, this one full of little wooden toys. Your eye catches on a chunk of unfinished wood that is shaped vaguely like a blocky pistol, and you heft it in your hand.

VENDOR – The scary, hulking shopkeep looks like he is about to yell at you for handling the merchandise (he literally looks like a felon–what kind of toy seller is this?) but seems to notice your RCM patches and thinks better of it. He settles for narrowing his eyes threateningly in your direction.

YOU – Call out to the Lieutenant before he gets too far away again.

“Hey Kim, check this out!” You turn the little gun in your hands. Two hollow spaces in the center hold ping pong balls; on the top is a mechanism of some kind.  It is composed of a rubber band between two pegs and a clothespin. These are affixed at the ‘back’, where the sight and hammer would be on a real pistol.

INTERFACING [Trivial: Success] – It’s a gun. For shooting ping pong balls. You know, a ping pong ball gun.

SUGGESTION – Ooooh, let’s shoot Kim with it.

YOU – Let’s not. 

KIM KITSURAGI – The lieutenant has circled back to peer over your shoulder. The corners of his mouth twitch as he takes the object from you. “Ah yes, one of these.” 

YOU – “How does it work?”

INTERFACING – Well I could have told you that.

KIM KITSURAGI – “You pull the rubber band back, like so.” He demonstrates with nimble fingers, clipping the now taut rubber band in place with the clothespin. If there is one thing Kim Kitsuragi loves, it is showing you how to do something. “And once you clip it, you put the ping pong ball in the cradle, and shoot.” He taps the empty space where the ball would go, a small divot in the center of the ‘v’ made by the rubberband. 

Unexpectedly, the lieutenant points the empty gun in your direction, closes one eye as if sighting down the barrel, and shoots .

INTERFACING [Trivial: Success] – ‘Shoots’ means that he presses the back of the clothespin, opening it and thus releasing the rubberband. Were it loaded, the kinetic energy of the motion would release a ping pong ball at a decent velocity into its target.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT – Take the gun back. Shoot that little binoclard between the eyes. You know how to do gun stuff, too, damn it! We simply cannot be flexed upon like this.

KIM KITSURAGI – The lieutenant blows invisible smoke from the tip of the wooden pistol before becoming suddenly self-conscious in the crosshairs of your huge delighted grin. He clears his throat, placing the toy back on the table with a nod to the vendor. 

YOU – How does Kim look so cool with a fake gun?

YOU – “Kim, how do you look so cool with a fake gun?”

KIM KITSURAGI – The lieutenant’s ears redden. “Khm. Nobody looks ‘cool’ with a toy gun. Or a real one, for that matter.”

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] – He’s lying. Kim Kitsuragi may detest violence, but he also is not immune to the coolness of the visual of holding a gun. He would just prefer a world where he doesn’t need to use one.

KIM KITSURAGI – He says to himself quietly, “When I was at the orphanage, one of the other boys had one of these–they were popular in those days. I must say I was always a bit jealous of him.” A small sigh escapes his lips as he comes back to himself. “We should get going, detective.”

SHIVERS [Legendary: Success] – In the wake of the Antecentennial Revolution, a young Revacholiere of Seolite descent sits in the dirt and weed yard of an orphanage. He watches quietly as a boisterous group of children play solider, his eyes a smudge behind the thrice broken lenses of hand-me-down glasses. On the bad days these boys are his tormentors, and on the best days, indifferent to his existence. He prefers the indifference. He turns his attention back to the stick clutched in his  little hand and resumes scratching words into the ground. Words about aerostatics, memorized from an operator’s manual he found blown flat against the orphanage fence. There are no secrets in this place once committed to paper–he will kick dirt over the letters as soon as he is done.

YOU – “Uhhh, I’ll meet you back at the station–I’m gonna go back to get one of those kebabs we saw earlier.”

KIM KITSURAGI – The lieutenant considers you for a moment but eventually shrugs “Very well. Don’t make yourself sick this time, yes?” He raises his eyebrows at you before walking away.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Medium: Failure] – That was one time .

ESPRIT DE CORP – You should be grateful he trusts you. If you were out with Jean he’d haul you back by the scruff of the neck, probably yelling about how you’ll only go shove drugs up your ass the moment you’re alone. All while taking an unironic pull from his own flask at 11 in the morning.

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] – No, it is not that Kim thinks you will never relapse. He’s your friend, not an idiot. It’s just he recognizes that you’re an adult man, and he believes in letting you make your own choices. He will help you when you need him, but he will not dictate your life unprompted.

YOU – Wait until Kim is out of sight and slide the vendor 5 reál, the price for two of the little toy guns. Which, coincidentally, is all the cash you have on you–so your stomach will unfortunately go kebab-less.

EMPATHY – It will be worth it, to surprise him.

THE 41ST PRECINCT – When you arrive back at the 41st, you have both guns tucked into your belt, beneath your suit jacket. Two toys barely resembling guns probably should not make you feel as cool as they do, considering you have a real gun strapped in your shoulder holster.

CONCEPTUALIZATION – A gun is commonly seen as a phallic metaphor. Obsessing over them is easy to interpret as overcompensation.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT – Well what’s better than one dick, but two? You are the two-dicked man, and you are here to mete out pain, Dirty Harry style.

LOGIC – [Trivial: Success] – Sure, if Dirty Harry shot ping pong balls and didn’t have the nuts to ask out a guy he already jerked off once. Also, the double-dick thing is stupid, let’s not think about that one any more.

YOU: No, let's see this dick metaphor through.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Formidable: Failure] – Uhh, let’s see here. Perhaps two dicks would entice the lieutenant into finally pursuing a relationship? Surely to a homo-sexual as long practiced as the lieutenant, double members would be an enticement.

YOU – That’s a stupid idea. Even for me. Let’s move on. Also, what’s a Dirty Harry? Do you mean, like, me when I don’t shower for a week?

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Trivial: Success] – Dirty Harry was a best selling novel a few decades ago, later developed for radio serialization featuring the voice of the popular radio star Trent Westwood. It focuses on a gruff RCM detective who uses any means necessary to end a murderer’s crime spree. The famous line, “You’ve got to ask yourself the question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do you, punk?” is still quoted regularly by people, typically while doing silly things such as pointing a banana at their co-worker. 

YOU – Ok, so basically I am Dirty Harry? They stole my life story slash personality, is what I’m hearing?

ENCYCLOPEDIA – No, you’re a lot more bloated. And not as cool. 

YOU – Okay, ouch. So are we doing this thing, or what?

DRAMA [Legendary: Success] – No, sire. We must bide our time before we draw back the curtain on this production–the time is not yet ripe. We must maximize anticipation if we are to boldly grab our audience’s attention.

HALF LIGHT – This calls for war. Destruction. Blood on the dance floor.

YOU – You take your place at your desk wordlessly. Kim glances up at your entrance and nods in greeting. You return the sentiment via double finger guns and a wink.

DRAMA – Your fingers are not the only guns locked and loaded, my liege. If you know what I mean.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Are we talking about his dick again?

DRAMA – No .

YOU – You sit at your desk and make like you’re going through the stack of paperwork before you (ha! A funny joke for just yourself.) 

YOU – Act casual.

DRAMA [Godly: Failure] – Let’s make some convincing noises! You can’t go wrong with being overly vocal to convey an emotion. An emotion such as “being a normie doing his work, doo-dee-doo.”

YOU – “Hm! Ha!” You say this to give the impression that you are very invested in your work, but all these little voices in your head are making it hard. The ‘Hm’ thing might be a little much, and Kim definitely stares at you suspiciously several times. Fifteen minutes or so pass in this manner. Your leg jiggles beneath your desk in anticipation.

YOU – Okay I’m getting bored. Let’s load this thing.

INTERFACING [Medium: Failure] – You surreptitiously slip a wooden pistol free and brace it between your thighs. You manage to load the ping pong ball ‘bullet’ one handed, but it’s pretty clear you’re fiddling with something under here. The fact you’re poking your tongue out in concentration helps nothing.

JEAN VIQUEMARE – “What the hell are you doing under the desk, shitkid? Quit playing with yourself–I don’t want to have the indecent exposure talk with you again.” 

YOU – Glower, knowing Jean is referring to the time you were caught jerking off in the locker-room; an incident you still do not remember but which you had the great shame of reading about in your personnel file.

ESPRIT DE CORPS – Kim read your file too, officer, before even you saw those shameful details. Jean presented it to him so that he would reconsider his request to be your partner once his transfer went through.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Formidable: Success] – What did his face look like, reading that? He can’t blush–were his ears lit bright red, the patented Kitsuragi non-blushing blush? Did he clear his throat awkwardly and remember your night in Martinaise?

LOGIC – No, he winced, realizing his new partner was a demonstrated pervert.

JEAN VIQUEMARE – Jean is still staring at you with that angry squint. He started to trust you a bit more in the past few months (‘‘trust’’ meaning he thinks you’re not in immediate danger to yourself or others but could become so within the hour,) but he’s also still been riding your ass pretty hard. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – You’d like to ride Kim’s ass hard.

YOU – I’m ignoring that. So should I do this, or what?

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] – No. Wait until Judit is back at her desk, out of the line of fire. Then wait more, knowing that Jean will make a call before long for some case or the other–calls and paperwork are pretty much the only thing anyone does at their desk.

YOU - Wait patiently, pretending to read the same paper as twenty minutes ago.

REACTION SPEED [Legendary: Success] – Now! He’s just finished dialing–he’s pressing the receiver to his ear. He does not suspect a thing. It is your time to strike. 

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT – TAKE THE SHOT! I REPEAT, TAKE THE SHOT!

DRAMA – This day shall go down in the annals of time, your name writ large. The time is upon us! CRY HAVOC AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR!!!

YOU – Stand, leveling your little toy at Jean from two desks over.  

For some reason you also yell “Death to the bourgeoisie!”, as if Jean Viquemare is a member of the landed gentry and not a pockmarked cop with anger management issues and a stack of unpaid bills.

EVERYONE ELSE – The surrounding members of the task force look up from their papers, coffee, and conversations, jerked from their train of thought by the department’s resident madman screaming. All eyes are on you.

JEAN VIQUEMARE – Satellite-office Viquemare glances up belatedly, distracted by the call. You bellowing like a madman isn’t exactly uncommon, but his eyes widen when he realizes the yelling is directed at him. But it is too late for him, now. His fate is sealed.

YOU – Let slip the dogs of war!

LOGIC – More like the ping  pong balls of war, but sure, ok. 

HAND EYE COORDINATION [Godly: Success] – You first shoot a wink at Kim, who is staring from the desk across from yours in surprise, and then you depress the clothespin with your thumb. This releases the rubber band, the resulting force sending the ping  pong ball hurtling across the office like a tiny hollow comet.

JEAN VIQUEMARE – He jerks backwards in surprise. Wrong move; that leaves him stuck in the flight path. The ping  pong ball ricochets off of his forehead with a surprisingly loud fleshy thwak, which causes Jean to release a surprised grunt into the mouthpiece of the phone. He is blinking rapid fire in shock.

EVERYONE ELSE – Stunned. Silent. Trying not to laugh until they see if Jean murders you or not.

YOU – Fuck yeah. Aim of a god. God detective! God detective!

JEAN VIQUEMARE – Through gritted teeth, Jean says into the phone’s mouthpiece, “Khm, no, sorry–that was unrelated to our conversation, sir. I apologize.” He narrows his eyes at you. “There is a pest in the office I must attend to. I will call you back.” The intensity of his glare ratchets slowly to boiling.  

Jean sets the phone down carefully, takes a deep breath, and then screams; “Harry, what the ever-living FUCK?!”

EVERYONE ELSE – It is in this moment that the rest of the office bursts into laughter. There is a small circular welt on Jean’s forehead. It is objectively hilarious.

YOU – Turn to Kim. 

KIM KITSURAGI – He is outright smirking. You believe you just heard the aftermath of a chuckle. “I can’t believe you went back and bought that thing.”

DRAMA – The angry one is rising from his desk, my liege! Prepare thyself for the brute’s assault!

YOU – Quickly load another round and grin at Kim. “Lieutenant, this is war–can I count on my partner’s support?”

KIM KITSURAGI – The lieutenant blinks, hesitating. Kim Kitsuragi does not join in on the office horseplay, as a rule. Something about your smile must convince him, because he grins and shrugs. “Sure, Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor Du Bois. What are my marching orders?”

JEAN VIQUEMARE – Jean pitches a stapler at you. He’s out for blood.

YOU – Become one with the stapler. Dodge that shit.

REACTION SPEED [Legendary: Success] – Thanks to the years of disco you are able to perform an impressive slide, nimbly dodging this gross escalation of hostilities. 

JEAN VIQUEMARE – He is advancing steadily around the islands of desks with the look of a pissed off shark.

YOU – Produce the second gun from your waistband, tossing it to Kim (he catches it, because of course he does.) There is a moment where he looks down at the gun, then back to you, stupefied. 

KIM KITSURAGI: He shows his incisors, loads the gun, and–

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] – Wait he’s pointing it at you. Is he about to shoot you!? What treachery is this??

YOU: Dodge that.

REACTION SPEED [Impossible: Failure] – You are simply too stupefied by the lieutenant's actions to react. You feel the slight sting of the ball as it hits your chest squarely over your RCM patch. You release a very undignified “Wh-HUH?”

KIM KITSURAGI – His smug satisfaction is devilish. "I am afraid you are a… what is it you call yourself sometimes? Ah yes, a 'Rogue bastard cop out of control’ whom I must put down."

JEAN VIQUEMARE – Your former partner lunges at you. He is cackling at Lieutenant Kitsuragi's betrayal. “You’re in for it now, shitkid!”

REACTION SPEED [Godly: Success] – Redemption! You sidestep Jean and pivot on your heel, at the same time shooting Kim. You even stick your hip out sassily at the end of the maneuver. The world is one big disco and it's yours for the taking. Your shot connects with the lieutenant’s chest.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) – Oof. Right in the boob.

YOU – Revenge is sweet. Giggle gleefully and take off.

EVERYONE ELSE – The rest of the precinct gets in on the action, instantly picking sides. Mack "The Torso" Torson actually hits Viquemare with a creme filled donut, giving you more of a lead. 

YOU – When the dust of battle settles and the proletariat rises, I shall remember his loyalty.

KIM KITSURAGI – Kim hits you in the back at least two more times with scavenged ping pong balls–your own chamber is empty. 

EVERYONE ELSE – There is yelling, and laughing, and strangely animal roars as the officers of the 41st conduct this pantomime of a chase. 

It's Judit Minot of all people who finally corners you, making some frankly impressive moves to herd you between the coffee machine and a filing cabinet. 

JUDIT MINOT – "Hands up, sir! We have you surrounded." She has a plain rubberband drawn over finger and thumb, ready to shoot. Resourceful. Kim and Jean step in beside her; a death squad.

YOU – Look around desperately. 

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Trivial: Success] – Torson has returned to his desk to finish his remaining donut. Traitor. Trant has watched the proceedings from his seat the entire time with a smile, a 'neutral party' as always.

INLAND EMPIRE – You are alone in this world.

KIM KITSURAGI – The lieutenant steps towards you slowly. He will doubtless be ashamed later of how much fun he's clearly having. His own gun, now empty, peaks out where it has been tucked into his waistband. 

KIM KITSURAGI – "Listen to Officer Minot–It is time to surrender your weapon, detective.”

JEAN VIQUEMARE – Jean's hand is out and wiggling in a 'gimme' motion, as if you are a naughty child.

YOU – "NEVER!"

SAVOIR FAIRE – Psst. It’s time to take a hostage. Kim is nearest, and most grab-able. Do we go for it?

YOU: Go for it.

ESPRIT DE CORPS – Have we considered that it might be in bad taste for police officers to play around with guns? Like, fake or not?

YOU – Don’t be a buzzkill.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Legendary: Failure] – Your intention is to smoothly grab the lieutenant, pulling him to your chest and pointing your little toy gun at his temple, because that would be hilarious. Instead, you reach for Kim and plant your foot squarely on the filled donut Torson threw earlier. Your weight goes out from under you–rather than grabbing Kim you fly into him, forcing the air from his lungs.

DRAMA – You slip like the king’s most foolish jester, sire. You have joined the ranks of the most uncouth of jape-purveyors, nearly as bad as ventriloquists–that of prop comedy.

KIM KITSURAGI – “Oof!”

YOU – Drop the gun so that you can focus on keeping both you and Kim upright.

REACTION SPEED [Impossible: Failure] – You release the toy from your hand in a panic. It subsequently careens into Jean’s face, which you only know because of the strangled screams of rage coming from your right. The world is moving in slow-motion. You wrap one arm around Kim’s waist desperately, a last-ditch effort to keep your bulk upright.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT – As if the twiggy binoclard could hope to support your robust physique.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Oh, I think Kim could take a real pounding.

REACTION SPEED – This gambit does not work, in the same way most of your actions in life do not ‘work.’ You go to the ground, pulling Kim with you. The donut splats across the back of your groovy disco jacket.

YOUR JACKET: Agh, what the fuck!

YOU – Lay there, praying that 1. Your fat has protected Kim from injury, and 2. That you finally suffer the massive coronary that is no doubt waiting in the wings.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) – No such luck. You open your eyes to find you are still here. Kim is atop you, staring down into your face with a rare look of shock.

YOU – “Ow. Kim.” You wince – this guys is bony.

EMPATHY [Challenging: Success] – Is it just you, or does the lieutenant pause a moment too long before getting up? His ears are red–a sure sign he is embarrassed. This is the closest your bodies have been in months. Since–

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – You know when. Wink wink.

JEAN VIQUEMARE – “Fucking hell , Harry. Kill one of our best officers after you drove the rest away, why don’t you.” Jean proffers the lieutenant his hand and Kim takes it, rising from the cushion of your stomach. Judit is laughing into her hand behind him, now that she is certain you both are more or less fine.

YOU – You are definitely blushing. You climb to your feet, clearing your throat. “Sorry, Kim,” you say bashfully. “I was, uh, gonna take you hostage.”

KIM KITSURAGI – He’s laughing.

PAIN THRESHOLD – Laughing at you , Harry.

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] – No, laughing with you. He’s been burning the candle at both ends, lately, with the 41st as understaffed as it is; this was the most fun he’s had in a while.

KIM KITSURAG – “It’s quite alright, officer. You better study your handbook again–I think there is something in there about avoiding rogue donuts in a gun fight.”

YOU – Grin like the biggest, dopiest Saint Bernard, but try not to drool like one. You like seeing him smile. Like it even more when it’s pointed in your direction.

TRANT HEIDELSTAM – “Is everyone alright? Should I call for Nix?”

CHESTER MCLAINE – “More importantly, is the donut gonna make it? I bought those! Throw your own fucking donuts, Mack!” 

JEAN VIQUEMARE – “Shitkid is fine. Basking in his own fuckup as usual. Back to work you lazy bastards, enough fucking ‘ fun.’” Jean throws a washrag at you from its place on the coffee cart, which hits you in the face. “And clean up the fucking donut, Harry, before we get rats again.”

KIM KITSURAGI – The lieutenant offers you his hand and you take it bashfully, rising from your donut bed of shame. His eyes flick down to your pelvis when you wince. “Your bullet-wound?” 

EVERYONE ELSE – The rest of your colleagues have begun filtering back to their desks, chattering amongst themselves.

YOUR JACKET – Damn, you just washed me last week. Again?? You’re not made of detergent!!! 

YOU – “Yeah but, I mean, it’s fine! I’ll pop a drouamine and be good in no time.” You grin shyly, then add “Um, sorry about that.”

KIM KITSURAGI – His eyes crinkle in a smile. “No apologies needed. You can make it up to me by finishing your part of the report on the case of THE BROKEN MIRROR.”

YOU – Groan exaggeratedly and make a cursory attempt at wiping up icing, but decide it’s too hard and follow Kim back to your desks.

KIM KITSURAGI – The lieutenant pauses as you reach your seats.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Legendary: Success] – He looks around in a gesture most would miss; but not you, Kim connoisseur that you are. Seeing that no one else is looking at you any longer he turns, clapping your shoulder with a small smile. A smile just for you. 

KIM KITSURAGI – “Thank you for the gift, Harry.” He pats the toy gun where it rests on his hip.

YOU – Try your best not to melt into a middle-aged puddle of cop goo. You were afraid that Kim’s practicality would win out, that he’d find it silly. 

EMPATHY – But he liked it! He likes you!

PAIN THRESHOLD – He’s not going to fuck you again. He made that perfectly clear, remember?

YOU – I can win him back.

PAIN THRESHOLD – Yeah, keep telling yourself that, buddy.

YOU – Stop talking to the voices in your head and respond to Kim like a normal human being.

“Yeah. Anything for you, Kim.”

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT – That was the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.

LOGIC – Yes! Because we’re gay for the lieutenant! Or bi for him, or whatever! Duh!

YOU – You settle back into your desks and return to your work, this time for real. You are thinking you will ask Kim to your place for a game of Suzerainty, and if you finish your report you think it might boost your chances of a ‘yes.’ 

INLAND EMPIRE [Moderate: Success] – Something in the periodic looks he gives you tells you that you won’t be refused.

KIM KITSURAGI – The lieutenant is not a man for desk decorations–his spot in the precinct is barren aside from disgustingly neat piles of paperwork, a plain coffee mug, a green-shaded lamp, and various writing implements. He does not seem to have the same nesting instinct the rest of you do, with your little statues and pictures of loved ones and novelty cartoon-cat calendars.

INLAND EMPIRE [Impossible: Success] – And yet, rather than tuck it in the back of a drawer, or take it home to bin, Kim Kitsuragi sets his little toy gun on his desk carefully. In a place of honor, beside his name plate. 

This means something.