Chapter Four

The next morning, Hal gave me a ride to work, and I gave him a breakfast on the house. He
went back to his apartment after that, stating that he needed more sleep and would pick me up after
work.

Francois greeted me with a small smile and a nod, and I nodded back at him in return. He
contemplated my demeanor. “You seem rested.” I smile slightly at this, thanking the heavens for
makeup. I hadn’t had more than an hour of sleep the night before. I had gotten in before Hal, and he
had woken me up when he came in at three am. He had just apologized swiftly and gone to bed. I knew
it would be a week, on Sunday again, that I would have more than a few minutes to speak with him. I
wasn’t sure if I was happy or sad about that fact. I was worried by the way he looked at me from time to
time… sideways glances and catching him staring at me when he thinks I’m not looking.

The work day is quiet after the morning rush, as it usually is, so after I get done cleaning I just sit
outside on one of the benches, watching the cars and the people pass by our little café. My phone
buzzes, and I pull it out, finding it’s a text from Hal. It stated that he had an undercover job that I might
be perfect at. I frowned at this but told him we could talk about it after I got off of work.

A few customers come in then and sit down, so my mind is brought back to the job at hand.
After work, Hal pulls up in his cruiser, and I hurry and get in, feeling Francois’s eyes on me. Hal greets
me in a quiet voice with a smile, which I return. He starts the drive back to his apartment.

“How was work?” he asked.

“Slow, actually, after breakfast,” I replied, and then we sat in silence, me looking out of the
window.

“So… cap’n approached me on getting Quinn to do some undercover work.”

“What kind of undercover work?”

“Well… Its fairly well-known that there are prostitutes down on Fifth. We’d like to bust that up
and their regulars.”

I looked at him and raised my eyebrow. He glanced back at me, a worried expression on his
face. “What do hookers have to do with Quinn?”

“Nothing! But you’re a fresh face, not a cop so you won’t be lying…”

“I’m not comfortable doing that.”

“You wouldn’t actually be having sex with these guys, Amy, you realize this right?”

“While I am glad for that at least… I still don’t feel like that’s the right thing to do. Unless there’s
a drug ring or the mob is in on it or something, I don’t see any real crime happening there.”

“So… Quinn is more into drug-busts and beating people up than freeing these women?”

“Freeing them from what? Their own stupidity?”

 “They do it because they have to for money, Amy, not because they want to.”

“There’s plenty of jobs out there. Real jobs.” He just sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Will you at least think about it?” I grunt in reply, and he quiets, somewhat satisfied that at
least I didn’t say no. We go up to his apartment, where he changes for the night. He always ran night
shifts, something I think this Captain of his requested him to do so he could continue to keep me and
him in contact. It made sense, but I could tell that it was starting to run the man ragged.

“When’s your next night off?”

“I have the next two nights off.” I rub my chin in contemplation at this and nod.

“Looks like you’ll be sleeping most of that time.”

He shrugged at my statement. “I mean, if you wanted to take the night off too… we could do
something one of those nights. A movie or something.”

I stare at him, and then start to giggle. He frowned at this, and asked what was so funny. I
quieted my laughter. “Nothing its just… I never thought you would ask me out on a date.”

“Ah well I guess its not really a date persay—“ He stopped when I raised my eyebrows at him.
“Unless, of course, you want it to be.”

“Its been a while… so… why not?” He smiled and came and hugged me tightly, which I returned,
my cheeks flushing again. He pulled away after a minute, clearing his throat.

“Can I get Quinn to come down to the station with me? For the shift meeting.”

I nod, flipping my hair into my beanie, then stopping, thinking better of it. “I’ll do all that in the
car,” I told him, and he just nods, locking the door behind us and we head down the stairs. On the way
to the station, in his cruiser, I put my hair into my beanie, and then slip my mask over my eyes. Lastly I
put on my gloves, cracking my knuckles to signify that I was now my alter ego. Hal glanced over at me
and grinned a huge grin. I smile back, loving Quinn just as much as he does.

He parked, and we walked in to the station, me right behind him. His buddies greeted him, then
glanced at me before saying a standard greeting. I just raised an eyebrow and nodded at them. They
were all starting to gather in a room in the back with desks, and Hal showed me his, which he seemed to
share with another officer, and he sat down in the chair. I stood against his desk quietly, observing all
the officers and other personnel. I knew that the day shift and night shift were just about equally
staffed, but I had never really thought about it before. There were a lot of cops here. A few came and
greeted me warmly, slapping me on the back or shoulders. I smiled a small smile at them, asking how
they’ve been since last time we’ve met. I had turned criminals into these men, or we had helped each
other out of a scrap, or something of that nature. These were the cops who liked what I did.

And then the captain came out, opened his mouth to start his normal spiel, I imagined, until he
spotted me. He grinned, nodded and half-bowed, and then went back to whatever he was going to say
before. He told about trouble spots, summed up what happened during the day shift, then directed
their attention to a board with the wanted men posted on it. I went over to it and examined it while the
officers went about their business. I studied the faces, noticing a few females among them. I read what
they were wanted for with a small grunt. Most were normal warrants. Some had skipped out on their
parole officers or something minor like that.

Hal walked up behind me, and I glanced at him. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Cap’n wants to
speak with you.” I nodded in acknowledgement and turned towards him. He let his hand drop, and he
nodded towards an office to his right. I get the hint and go to the office, knocking on the door. He tells
me to enter, and I do. I close the door behind me.

“Well, well, well… Quinn, we finally meet.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

He smirked lightly, his lip twitching up lightly. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad Harrison got
you in here at last.”
“Why is that?”

“So everyone can see that you are real. That you are a woman, and that you are one of the
good guys.”

“Was there doubt?”

He stays quiet for a minute, contemplating his answer. “There was. Some thought that Harrison
and Martinez and some others had invented you so they could go against protocol in their arrests.”

“And now?”

“Now? Your reception was warmer than I expected, to say the least.” He took a sip of
something in a glass. “I would like a demonstration of your skills, for the men’s benefit.”

“Like… sparring or what?” He nodded.

“Exactly.”

“When?”

“Well, now would be great.”

“Let’s do it then.” He grinned, slapping me on the arm, and led the way out into the main room.

“Who wants to spar with Quinn?”

I glanced at Hal, whose eyes narrowed darkly. But he knew better than to spar with me, as I had
proved already. I turned my head quickly as I saw an officer who was fully against my vigilantism step
forward. My eyes narrowed at this man, easily half a foot taller than me, whose name was Mike
Mullahan. The other officers started moving desks to clear a space.

Hal placed a hand on my shoulder, and when I looked at him, he just nodded. I nod softly, and
then Mullahan and I were circling each other. I had infinite patience, so I let him. He came forward first,
lunging for me, but I stepped to the side, and he barreled into the officers behind me. He growled as he
got back up, sweeping my feet from under me. I made a small noise and rolled back into standing,
crouching as I faced him once more. He came towards me again, and this time I caught him under his
arm and flipped him onto his stomach. I straddled him, twisting the arm I still had a hold of to his back.
He hissed in pain, and the captain clapped, and a few others joined in. I let my face fall back into a soft
expression after being contorted in rage. I patted Mullahan on the shoulder and got off of him. He
stood, shaking out his arms.

“Doesn’t prove anything, I hope you realize that,” Mullahan said in an undertone to me.

“All that proved is that even experienced fighters can still get beat up by a girl,” I responded in
an equally quiet voice, and his eyes flashed dangerously.

“All that is required to beat you, Quinn, is a well-aimed shot.”

“How many criminals have good aim?” I wondered before stepping away from him, going back
to the wanted board. I studied the faces half-heartedly, his statement coming a little too close for
comfort. I knew that I could be killed easily with a gun. A knife or any other weapon I could defend
against, but a gun? Unless it was point-blank, I was at the mercy of the training of the criminal. Or luck.
I wasn’t sure which one, but I was fairly sure it was both.

Hal then walked me back out to his cruiser, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing, his
eyes gazing into my mask, before he released me, nodding his head at the streets. I gave him a
mysterious smile, told him I’d make it back to his apartment before too long in a quiet voice, and then I
was gone, slipping in and out of the shadows with barely a whisper of sound.

I walked my new beat, but found nothing. I frowned at this, but was almost glad for it, after my
thoughts earlier. I started on my way back to Hal’s apartment, stopping in a dark alleyway, behind a
dumpster, to take my hair down from under my beanie and remove my mask. I tucked my thin black
mask into my hat and tucked it through my belt, making my way through that alleyway and around the
small building to come out the other side back onto the sidewalk.

I ran a hand through my hair roughly as I walked. His apartment wasn’t too far away, now, and I
visibly sighed in relief as I saw the building come into my view across the street. I stopped on the street
corner, pressing the button so that I could cross the street safely. I untuck my shirt as I stand there,
taking a careful look around. Besides the few cars that went by me, oblivious, it was a pretty quiet night,
now. Only a few people walked the streets.

I look to my right and see a woman standing on the street corner, much different than I was.
She was barely dressed, her hair a mess, with heavy makeup. I narrowed my eyes, not needing to know
much more than that. I cross the street when my signal tells me to, and I slip back into an alleyway,
putting my hair back up and putting the mask over my eyes. I still have a signal, so I head to the street
corner where I had seen the woman. She was walking away from me down the street now. I whipped
out my phone and texted Hal quickly, letting him know my location and directive. He texts back that
he’s on his way over, so I continue to keep to the shadows, following the woman.

A car stops in front of her, and she walks over to it, sticking her ass out in the air as she does,
smiling and laughing. I dare to get closer, trying to identify the man in the car. I have to cover my
mouth to keep myself from laughing. It is Francois, the chef and short order cook at my work. I smile,
let my hair down and take my mask back off. I shake out my hair, tucking my hat and mask into my belt
as before. I then walk down the sidewalk towards his car, and, as expected, he drives towards me,
pulling over close to the curb.
 “Amelia?” He asked, leaning towards the open passenger side window. I come over to his car,
and flash him a smile.

“Indeed it is I. Just heading back from a midnight stroll.” His eyes narrowed as I said this, but I
just flash him another smile and his face lightens.

“Would you like to get in?” He wonders, reaching towards the handle to open the door for me.

“Thank you kindly, Francois, but my ride is coming to pick me up and drive me home.” I glance
up and see Hal’s cruiser come around the corner. “So I think it would be in your best interest to
skedaddle, considering what you almost just did.”

Francois’s eyes glance to the cruiser, than back to the woman of the night who now stood
against the lightpost, then back at me. “Point taken,” he said simply. “I’ll see you in the morn.” I nod at
this, and step back from his car. He rolls up the window and drives off. Hal is parked across the
sidestreet, so I cross cautiously and climb in the passenger side.

“What was all that about?” He asked, looking over my not-so-Quinn appearance with nothing
less than wanting eyes.

“I did a bit of prevention.”

“You knew him,” he said, his teeth grinding together audibly.

“Yeah, I know him.”

“No money changed hands?”

“Not a cent.”

“Alright then,” he said, satisfied, turning around to drive me to his apartment building. “I’ll be
off in a little over an hour, if you wanted to wait up.”

“I’ll be up,” I said softly, catching his eyes. He nods, remembering the night before. I head
upstairs, opening the door to his apartment and then closing it quietly behind me, locking it. I change
into pajamas, putting away my gear in its box, before curling up on the couch and flipping on the
television. I wondered what was on at three am. I found a marathon of an old sitcom, so I watched that
until Hal came in over an hour and a half later. I sat up to greet him, and he greeted me in return. He
flopped onto the couch next to me, still in full uniform, so I leaned against him instead of the pillow.

“Went back to tail that whore,” he said, his eyes on the television still. “Now she’s nice and
comfy in a single cell down at the precinct.”

“One down. How many more to go?”

He groaned, scratching his hair. “I rather not think about it. I just wanna go to bed.”

“Alright. Sleep well.” I moved back over to the pillow, and he got up, heading for his room. He
paused.

“I know that sofabed isn’t comfortable.”

 “Better than the ground.” He’s quiet for a minute. I turn to look at him.

“Sure, but I have a big bed—“

“Hal, honestly, I’ll be fine. I can’t sleep in any case.”

“The offer stands.” He disappears into his room then, the door cracked but not shut. I turned
down the television, listening to the noises his uniform made as he removed it. I heard him place his
gun and two clips on his nightstand. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then turn the television
back up a few notches, trying to concentrate on what the nineties thought was comedy.