Trooper Station; Monday [09/09].

[died8yearsago]

The phone was ringing off the hook at the station that day, but it didn't have anything to do with Fandom Island. No bootlegging raccoons, no crazy Bee Lady, no mysterious things lurking in the sewers or even people complaining about something happening that they really should used to by now. Nope. The phone was ringing off the hook, all of them to Rosa, and every time she answered, she was greeted with someone shouting some variation of "Nine-Nine!!"

"Peralta." Rosa sighed. "It got it. It got it the first twenty times."

"Sorry, sorry, that's the last one, I promise."

Rosa didn't believe that for a minute, and, sure, enough, five minutes later:

Ring-ring.

"Noin--"

"PERALTA. If I promise to come up there as soon as my shift is over, will you stop calling me?"

"Weren't you coming up after your shift was over anyway?"

"Of course I was. It's Nine-Nine. But if you stop calling me, I won't punch your goddamn lights out when I get there."

"Awwwww. Okay. I'll stop. I promise."

Rosa was pretty sure Jake could feel her glare all they way in Brooklyn, because she knew, five minutes after she hung up the phone again, what was going to happen.

Ring, ri---!

Rosa stood up, ripped the phone off the desk, and threw it against the wall.

Then she sat down, sighed in relief at the silence that follow, and then went to write up an email to Kincaid about needing some equipment replaced, an email that she'd written so often she could pretty much do it in her sleep.

[[ OPEN! and, yes, i may have shamelessly stolen been inspired by Beau's post on this one. I like to think I'd have eventually thought of it on my own when I typed out the date, but I'm not half as clever as I pretend I am <3 ]]