It had been a rather long day - with Easter just around the corner, people were even more stupid - and more reckless - than usual. Everyone’s stress level seemed that much higher, frustrations building up and leading to more violent outburst than at any other day. Naturally, there was more work for him. Noah had stopped counting how many people had snapped at each other, gotten in physical fights or worse.
His shift was, finally, coming to an end, and as it turned out, Noah would spend the last thirty minutes in an all too familiar hospital. He had half grown up here, with the hospital being his mother’s working place (and Noah, more often than not, ending up with all kinds of bruises on a daily basis. He had always been a rather active child.)
Now, on top of that, it had also become part of his work. Mere minutes ago he had accompanied the paramedics who had brought in one of his suspects, bruised ribs, split lip and a potential concussion. While Noah waited to be allowed to talk to the suspect, eyes closed, he picked up on a rather familiar scent: Coffee.
Immediately opening his eyes, Noah didn’t just spot a fresh cup of coffee, but also a raher familiar face.
“-- Please tell me that one’s for me.”
Rory was officially his hero.
