Works Well With Others? [X] <Talia>

New beginnings are like buying underwear from the thrift store. Sure, everyone will tell you that starting over means a clean state, but that freshness goes away when you know in the back of your mind that you're now juggling where someone else's piss-stains used to sour. I dont particularly care for change. It takes time to get comfortable in your own funk, where you don't have to have a committee to get permission whether its okay to wear the same boxers twice in a row. You just do what you want to do to get things done. And you're not doing your job getting garbage off the streets if you don't start to stink yourself. You have to remind people that even wolves run when they smell bears approaching.
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The seat was grossly warm.

Felici's police station, like the city itself, was an exercise of vanity. Where the solidity of marble and stonework added to the stiffing atmosphere of rigidity. Here is where chaos came to die, choked out by the long arm of order necessary in a city that laced up its temptations with art and old-world flair. People buzzed by in clockwork fashion, zipping by in a pipeline of uniforms, suits, and the poor rags that happened to be in tow. It was a stark difference from the barely contained madness of Dagos precincts. The lobby didn't smell like defecation and life's regrets for starts.

“Are you listening?”

“So do I get a desk with at least a window?”

The commissioner, whom Enrico had already forgotten his name, huffed a sigh so laced with ire that he swore he saw smoke. An office box of papers had found its way to his desk before the maverick cop had even arrived, a few already open to a time line of investigations, a cinema of escapades color coded with red checks and black tape. “They expect me to work with this?”

Enrico's eyes threaten to roll out of his head. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn't ask to come here.”

“No, it doesn't.” The retort was harsh, heavy, with the practiced sternness of anyone who's had years putting up with jack-asses with more ego than they had sense. “Some people really high on the food chain made this happen. And I mean, they made it certain that this was going down.” He lifted a yellow folder, showcasing a mugshot that made Enrico grimace-not his best side. “You want to know what this says?”

“So that's a no about the office huh?”

“Disrespects authority,”

“More like...treats them like family.”

“Reckless,”

“Success driven,”

“Over twenty human resources complaints,”

“The police chief's daughter came on me okay. Well, literally too but-”

“You shot an elderly woman?”

Enrico finally sat up in his seat,“Mama Thoso was kingpin in Dagos for fourty-years! Kidnapping, racketeering, arms, you name it...and she wouldn't put her hands up.

“She was paralyzed.”

“Look, I said hands up or I'll shoot. She didn't want to show me the hands? Now she's missing one.” He shifted, “And did the last person who sat here have an ass that was dripping with magma. Because this is nauseatingly uncomfortable.”

“You think this is at all funny?”

“Considering that I lost what ever progress I was making towards my pension when I got reassigned here, I'd say the joke is on me.”

The commissioner audibly grinned his teeth and give a look to Enrico that bordered on murderous. And then, a sigh, as if conceding the crown of pettiness over to him. “You an I aren't done yet but let me get some things strait. We do things different here in Felici.”

“I've noticed. You actually waste time making decaf coffee.”

He didn't take the bait. “We have rules, books, procedures. Everyone at the end of the day just wants to go where they call home safely. And its our job to make sure thats done as clean as possible. With less--” The commissioner turned the next page of the file, another candid image of Enrico holding several persons at gun point. “Less headlines as possible.”

“Heard and clear. But since we're in the realm of asking favors, can my secretary at least be cute? Like that young intern I met at the front desk.”

The commissioner's brow, now nicknamed 'Sam', inclined skyward and the pen spun to form a makeshift stiletto within already massive paws. “That, Vivenzia, is my niece.”

Enrico lent so far back in his chair it threatened to topple. “Well, your family has...great genes.” He didn't cut the tension with his usual laughter, the air found itself caught in his throat as if too timid to challenge the wall of budding hostility radiating from the man across the desk. “Well if there's nothing else...” Enrico began to stand.

“Sit.”

And Enrico did.

“We're not done yet. Despite my...clear apprehensions, you do have a success record that I can work with...if you have the right guidance. I've called someone to help you get familiar to things here in my city. They'll be here in a few minutes. ”

Enrico's lips curled to protest, but whatever words he formed was prematurely strangled out once more by the ferocity of the commissioner's sternness. “A partner?”

“I couldn't write baby-sitter to the county sheriff, so yes a partner.”

Enrico couldn't help but crack a smile. “I think you and I will get along just fine, sir...”