Sirens; Part 1
Summary: Octavia Blake is a rookie hotshot straight out of the police academy; fiery as hell and just as stubborn, she's ready to take on the city. Lincoln is a seasoned EMT, used to butting heads to make sure his patients get to the hospital while they're still breathing; except he's never butted heads with anyone as hot headed as Octavia and as fate would have it, the damned rookie keeps answering all the same emergency response calls. They're probably going to get each other fired... if they don't fall for each other first.
(A slow-burn, modern linctavia AU requested by @brooklina)
“How’d the first day go, Officer Blake?”
Octavia shrugged out of her jacket as she shot her older brother an irritated look. “It was shit.” She strutted over to where Bellamy sat on the couch, arm slung over his long-time girlfriend Clarke Griffin, and snatched the beer he was holding out of his hand.
“Did something happen?” Bellamy asked as she downed the entire bottle and lobbed it into the nearest trash can.
“You mean aside from the drunk lady who flashed her tits at me and tried to bitch slap my FTO? Then no, nothing happened.”
“So what’s the problem again?” Clarke asks, leaning around Bellamy slightly.
“Nothing happening is the problem! I joined the police force to help people! Not clean vomit out of the back of a squad car.” She plopped down on the arm of the couch next to her brother.
“It’s your first day, O,” Bellamy reassured. “Besides, it could be worse. Miller’s K9 was so nervous he crapped all over the car and Miller had to spend the entire day with his head out the window.”
“I knew there was a reason I loved Bruiser,” Octavia replied.
“What about your field training officer? She’s cool right? All the EMTs that come through the hospital love her.”
“Indra? She’s amazing! And terrifying. Some of the guys said she once knocked out a meth dealer with one punch.”
“I saw that,” Bellamy replied, “it was beautiful.” Bellamy joined the Army right out of high school, and joined the Arkadia SWAT team shortly after his return. On a few rare occasions, he’d had the pleasure of working alongside Arkadia PD’s finest officer.
“Is that the same meth dealer that said she wanted to have your babies while you were handcuffing her?” Clarke asked.
“Yikes!” Octavia shuddered.
“No, that was a different dealer,” Bellamy replied.
“Well, on that note, I’m gonna go find somewhere I can peacefully scream into an abyss,” Octavia said as she jumped off the couch.
“Tomorrow will be better, O, you’ll see,” Bellamy assured.
Octavia hoped so.
Despite all the chemicals and a power wash, the squad car still, somehow, managed to smell vaguely of vomit and b.o. Octavia cracked the windows and fiddled with the radio to try to distract herself, while Indra sat stoically beside her.
“That smell’s gonna go away, right?”
Indra shrugged, “You get used to it.”
Octavia suppressed a groan as she fiddled with the radio again. The only action they’d seen was a homeless man surfing in a stolen shopping cart down a busy intersection... and freaking John Murphy stole the call from them!
“Does anything ever happen in this town?” She muttered to herself.
As if on que, the radio crackled with static before a chipper voice called out, “Units we have a 210 in progress on Polis Avenue.”
Octavia clicked the receiver so fast she thought it was going to break, while Indra whipped the car down a back alley to get to the scene in time.
“This is David27. 10-4,” Octavia barked into the receiver as Indra drove over a curb to get into the parking lot of a popular liquor store. An armed robbery was much more her speed then drunken old ladies.
A moment later another voice came over the radio, “This is Zebra32. Going 23.”
“Ah come on! Does it have to be Murphy as backup?” Octavia groaned to herself.
“This isn’t the time for a turf war, Octavia,” Indra reprimanded as Murphy’s squad car pulled up on the other side of the parking lot.
“This is David27. Going 23.”
Just as they were about to step out of the car, the front window of the liquor store erupted into tiny shards of glass.
“998! Shots fired!” Murphy barked into his radio.
As he was speaking, a figure in a dark sweatshirt bolted from the side door of the liquor store
“Adam24. Suspect is fleeing on foot. David27 and I are in pursuit.” Indra sprinted after him, with Octavia on her heels, while Murphy went to double check the liquor store.
“Zebra32. Code 40. Civilian has been shot. Repeat, Code 40,” Murphy’s voice crackled over the radio as Indra and Octavia continued to pursue the suspect down the street.
“Freeze!” Indra ordered.
Little good it did. The suspect ducked into the nearest alley and began knocking over trash cans to slow them down.
Octavia leaped over one, skirted another, and shooting past Indra, managed to snag the hood of the suspect’s jacket and yank him backwards. The suspect toppled over backwards, and Octavia, thrown off balance by the sudden change of direction, nearly fell on top of him.
“Freeze!” Indra ordered again, reaching where the two of them fell.
The suspect had rolled onto his side, legs tucked into his chest as he coughed and sputtered. “YOU BITCH! You tried to strangle me!”
Octavia, on her knees now, rolled him over onto his back. “You shouldn’t have run.”
“Octavia,” Indra warned.
Octavia gave him a quick pat down, finding a gun stashed in the back pocket of his jeans, and then slapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. “Hope cheap booze was worth jail time,” she snickered as she hauled him to his feet.
“I want a lawyer,” the man replied.
Octavia rolled her eyes, “Yeah and I want-”
“Octavia,” Indra warned again.
Octavia gritted her teeth and quickly read him his Miranda Rights as they walked him back towards the squad car. Parked between Murphy’s and their squad car, was an ambulance, it’s red and blue lights flashing.
A couple of EMTs were wheeling the injured store manager out on a stretcher as Octavia and Indra approached with the perp.
“Indra,” one of the paramedics acknowledged as the others raised the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. “You alright?”
Indra stuck out her hand, shaking the younger man’s eagerly. “Good to see you, Lincoln. We’re fine. How’s the civilian?”
“Fine?!” The perp shouted incredulously. “This bitch tried to choke me to death! I almost died in an alley!”
“Is he hurt?” Lincoln took a quick look at the man, taking in the new rip in his jeans and the dirt around his clothes. A bit of a bruise was starting to form on his jaw from where his face had hit the floor but he was otherwise in tact.
Octavia glowered, “He’s fine! He’s being a baby.”
“I should check him out, anyway,” Lincoln insisted, glancing quickly back at the ambulance, where one of the other paramedics was jumping out of the back to grab a medical bag off the ground. “Wait a sec! We may have one more!”
“Please,” the perp’s voice lowered pleadingly as he saw a chance to escape jail time a little longer. “I.. I can’t breathe so well. I’ve got asthma.”
“No you don’t!” Octavia hissed.
“Do you know this man, personally?” Lincoln countered, folding his arms across his chest. He’d dealt with his share of hot headed police officers, and he wasn’t about to take lip from a rookie straight out of the Academy.
“Well no...”
Lincoln scoffed as he turned to Indra, “Your partner must be new. This is procedure, Indra, you know that.”
Indra sighed, “He’s right, Octavia.”
“But-!”
“I don’t know about you,” Lincoln said, turning back to Octavia, “but it’s my job to make sure people are safe. You can come yourself to watch him, but I’m taking him to a hospital.”
“Oh! I’m seeing stars!” The perp wailed.
“I’ll take him,” Indra responded.
“Indra!”
“That’s enough, Octavia. Lincoln’s right. We have to let them check him out.”
Octavia glared at Lincoln, who motioned them towards the still waiting ambulance.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”
“Screaming into the abyss kinda early today, huh?” Bellamy leaned against the door frame, sweatpants low on his hips as he downed half a water bottle in one gulp.
Octavia rolled onto her back, leaving the mountain of pillows she’d been screaming into behind for the time being as she sat up. “It’s bullshit, Bellamy! Since when do we coddle perps?”
“It’s for your own safety, O,” Bellamy reassured as he came to sit on the edge of her bed. “A lot of good cops lost their badges for not letting their suspects get proper treatment. And with crackpot defense attorneys like Echo working for the city, you gotta cover your ass.”
“You should have seen how that EMT looked at me, Bell,” Octavia grumbled, “like I was the bad guy!”
“Lincoln?”
“How’d you know?”
“He’s a Victim’s Advocate, and he’s pretty intense about it,” Bellamy explained. “He once made Monroe cry, and she was a Marine.”
Octavia grimaced.
“Don’t let him get to you, O. You did a good job, and the guy’s still going to jail, just a little slower. Count it as a victory.”
She could hardly call it a victory when it had ended with the ambulance’s sirens blaring down the street, taking her perp with it. It wasn’t supposed to be this way! She was supposed to catch the bad guys and lock them up, not have them taken away by some over-concerned EMT.
Bellamy reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You gotta learn to live with policies, O, even if ya don’t like ‘em.”
She groaned as she threw herself back into her mountain of pillows. “Is it always gonna be like this?”
Bellamy stood, a grin on his face, “Depends on what calls you take.”
