@olivia–sullivan
Dilan furrowed her brow when she found Olivia on her own. “Funny to find you without your ——” the woman paused to think of her words. “What do you consider her — your best or worst part?” The woman said with a lift of her lips. Partners in crime more, less figuratively and more literally nowadays with their various affiliations. Wincing slightly at the whine of metal against the concrete floor, the woman pulled on the chair and took a seat next to the dirty officer. “I was hoping to gain a bit of information on what our fellow men in blue are doing.” It was a normal occurrence for her to find the women and ask if anyone had her or her associates on a radar before a job. They would be able to tell her who was under surveillance and couldn’t be sent out to do what she needed them to. As well as if anyone had decided to attempt to infiltrate their organization like they had so many fucking times in the past.
Hearing the other woman approach, she snapped her head up to take her in. Letting out a light laugh, she sat back in her chair and winked, “That distinction solely depends on the situation, though I’d venture its worst most of the time. Besides, we need to split sometimes, or the bosses will get too suspicious.” The levity in her voice was a defence mechanism, a way to mask the fact that the reason for their meeting still made her want to puke. Dirty was the perfect way to describe her position, as it still was how she felt. She supposed it was a good sign, that this had not fully morally corrupted her. It was stomach it, or be disposed of, and she knew that. Her only saving grace in certain situations was knowing she was not the only one. “Anyone specifically you want to know about? We could be here awhile if I had to rattle off all hunches.”











