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snowflake_challenge: In your own space, create a fanwork.
Sure, why not.
I've mentioned before that I often write out scenes that play out in my head that are untethered to any story. Maybe I'll use them at some point, maybe I won't. I like to get them out of the brain and onto the virtual page. Frees up bandwidth.
So, this morning, in response to Fandom Snowflake Challenge's latest prompt, I jotted down a Forever Knight scene in which there are some kind of consequences for Nick following the events of the episode "Capital Offense." The lack of consequences for his terrible behavior made me kind of bananas.
Mind, this is quite rough and will read as a bit of an incomplete thought. There's no plot, no story, just a scene rather hastily written down.
-----
“You wanted to see me, Captain?” Nick said cautiously from the threshold of Cohen's office, wary of this particular meeting.
Cohen stood looking out the external window of her office into the night. She did not turn to face him as she directed, “Close the door, Knight.” There was a pause before she added, “And the blinds.”
As he reached to shut the blinds of the interior window, Nick's gaze swept briefly over the bullpen. Schanke sat at his desk pretending to write a report as he repeatedly glanced towards Cohen's office. He met Nick's eyes and raised a fist slightly in the air in a half-hearted sign of solidarity. Another officer shot Schanke a daggered look and he lowered his fist. Nick sighed and closed the blinds and then the door.
“Have a seat,” Cohen directed, her back still to him.
Nick settled uneasily in one of the chairs across from her desk. The office seemed so much more confining than usual.
“I’m sure you’ve sensed the mood at the station these past couple of days," Cohen began, still not facing him.
Of course, Nick had sensed it. An icy hostility seemed to have settled over the night shift when he returned to work after being put on leave following the Laura Garfield shooting.
Cohen finally turned to face him, her expression taut. “The Shooting Review Board exonerated you and your partner for the shooting. I agree with that.” She came around her desk and sat on the edge of it, looking hard at him. “But what I can’t wrap my mind around is the Disciplinary Board clearing you for everything that led up to it." Her voice sharpened, laced with a palpable anger, "If I’d been on that board, your badge and gun would be on my desk and you’d be at home searching the classifieds for a new job.”
He glanced away from her and down at the floor. It had only taken him moments to plant the outcome of the Disciplinary Board hearing in the heads of each of the three board members. One, he’d caught on her way to the building from her car. Another, in the hall outside the conference room before the hearing convened. The third, outside a coffee shop just around the corner. Each of them, he’d fed the same story: based on his record, this was a one-off and outlier incident and there would be no disciplinary action.
“Cap, I know I screwed up, I-“
“Officer Smith still has bruises around her neck,” Cohen cut him off sharply. “She says she’s fine, but getting attacked like that… she won’t be fine for a long time.”
Still not meeting Cohen’s eyes, he thought of the officer he’d left alone in his car with Laura Garfield. “I owe her an apology,” he said softly.
“You’d do well to leave her alone,” Cohen replied, tone firm. “She asked to transfer precincts, did you know that?”
Nick shook his head.
“I’ve approved that request. She’ll be heading to your old stomping grounds, the 27th. I put in a good word for her with your old boss.”
“I’m sure she’ll do well there,” Nick said, hoping that was true. He hadn't meant for anyone to get hurt, to upend anyone's life.
"The only question now," Cohen said, "is what am I to do with you, Detective?”
“I can’t fire you," she continued, "but I still control your assignments. I don't trust your judgment right now and I don't think anyone else does either, not even your partner. You're on desk duty until further notice.”
Nick felt a protest rising within him and he finally looked up at her. He could easily influence her decision and return to the field. He let his gaze lock on hers, her steady heartbeat pulsating in his heightened senses. But before he could say anything, she broke eye contact and went to look out the window, her back to him again.
“You know, Detective, this isn't entirely your fault. I'm partly to blame too." Her voice was tinged with regret.
“Cap?”
“I let you take Garfield in your car, thinking it’d avoid media attention. The press would have been keeping an eye out for a marked car. In retrospect, though, I don’t know what I was thinking.” She added, a pained undercurrent to her words, "Officer Smith even protested and I didn't listen."
Nick knew the truth behind her decision and why she could not quite make sense of it. It had been his own suggestion that had guided her, a manipulation she couldn't resist.
Cohen turned to face him again and he could see a deep weariness in her eyes. “That decision put Officer Smith in danger and it put you in danger," she said softly and the guilt in her voice resonated in his own heart. "That's on me.”
A sharp stab of remorse shot through him. The burden Cohen carried was his to bear, but he had no way to tell her the truth.
“You're dismissed, Knight,” she concluded, a heaviness in her voice.
snowflake_challenge: In your own space, create a fanwork.Sure, why not.
I've mentioned before that I often write out scenes that play out in my head that are untethered to any story. Maybe I'll use them at some point, maybe I won't. I like to get them out of the brain and onto the virtual page. Frees up bandwidth.
So, this morning, in response to Fandom Snowflake Challenge's latest prompt, I jotted down a Forever Knight scene in which there are some kind of consequences for Nick following the events of the episode "Capital Offense." The lack of consequences for his terrible behavior made me kind of bananas.
Mind, this is quite rough and will read as a bit of an incomplete thought. There's no plot, no story, just a scene rather hastily written down.
-----
“You wanted to see me, Captain?” Nick said cautiously from the threshold of Cohen's office, wary of this particular meeting.
Cohen stood looking out the external window of her office into the night. She did not turn to face him as she directed, “Close the door, Knight.” There was a pause before she added, “And the blinds.”
As he reached to shut the blinds of the interior window, Nick's gaze swept briefly over the bullpen. Schanke sat at his desk pretending to write a report as he repeatedly glanced towards Cohen's office. He met Nick's eyes and raised a fist slightly in the air in a half-hearted sign of solidarity. Another officer shot Schanke a daggered look and he lowered his fist. Nick sighed and closed the blinds and then the door.
“Have a seat,” Cohen directed, her back still to him.
Nick settled uneasily in one of the chairs across from her desk. The office seemed so much more confining than usual.
“I’m sure you’ve sensed the mood at the station these past couple of days," Cohen began, still not facing him.
Of course, Nick had sensed it. An icy hostility seemed to have settled over the night shift when he returned to work after being put on leave following the Laura Garfield shooting.
Cohen finally turned to face him, her expression taut. “The Shooting Review Board exonerated you and your partner for the shooting. I agree with that.” She came around her desk and sat on the edge of it, looking hard at him. “But what I can’t wrap my mind around is the Disciplinary Board clearing you for everything that led up to it." Her voice sharpened, laced with a palpable anger, "If I’d been on that board, your badge and gun would be on my desk and you’d be at home searching the classifieds for a new job.”
He glanced away from her and down at the floor. It had only taken him moments to plant the outcome of the Disciplinary Board hearing in the heads of each of the three board members. One, he’d caught on her way to the building from her car. Another, in the hall outside the conference room before the hearing convened. The third, outside a coffee shop just around the corner. Each of them, he’d fed the same story: based on his record, this was a one-off and outlier incident and there would be no disciplinary action.
“Cap, I know I screwed up, I-“
“Officer Smith still has bruises around her neck,” Cohen cut him off sharply. “She says she’s fine, but getting attacked like that… she won’t be fine for a long time.”
Still not meeting Cohen’s eyes, he thought of the officer he’d left alone in his car with Laura Garfield. “I owe her an apology,” he said softly.
“You’d do well to leave her alone,” Cohen replied, tone firm. “She asked to transfer precincts, did you know that?”
Nick shook his head.
“I’ve approved that request. She’ll be heading to your old stomping grounds, the 27th. I put in a good word for her with your old boss.”
“I’m sure she’ll do well there,” Nick said, hoping that was true. He hadn't meant for anyone to get hurt, to upend anyone's life.
"The only question now," Cohen said, "is what am I to do with you, Detective?”
“I can’t fire you," she continued, "but I still control your assignments. I don't trust your judgment right now and I don't think anyone else does either, not even your partner. You're on desk duty until further notice.”
Nick felt a protest rising within him and he finally looked up at her. He could easily influence her decision and return to the field. He let his gaze lock on hers, her steady heartbeat pulsating in his heightened senses. But before he could say anything, she broke eye contact and went to look out the window, her back to him again.
“You know, Detective, this isn't entirely your fault. I'm partly to blame too." Her voice was tinged with regret.
“Cap?”
“I let you take Garfield in your car, thinking it’d avoid media attention. The press would have been keeping an eye out for a marked car. In retrospect, though, I don’t know what I was thinking.” She added, a pained undercurrent to her words, "Officer Smith even protested and I didn't listen."
Nick knew the truth behind her decision and why she could not quite make sense of it. It had been his own suggestion that had guided her, a manipulation she couldn't resist.
Cohen turned to face him again and he could see a deep weariness in her eyes. “That decision put Officer Smith in danger and it put you in danger," she said softly and the guilt in her voice resonated in his own heart. "That's on me.”
A sharp stab of remorse shot through him. The burden Cohen carried was his to bear, but he had no way to tell her the truth.
“You're dismissed, Knight,” she concluded, a heaviness in her voice.
