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outofherdepthsThe cell door swung open. "Your twenty-four hours of holding are up," Calvin announced. It had been significantly longer, but he was betting she didn't know that. "You're free to go."
From her nest of tissues on the floor, the young woman looked up at him, blinking in curiosity. Had he come with more food? She'd like that, please.
Calvin sighed, annoyed but unsurprised that the perp wasn't cooperating. "Come on," he said. "We have to escort you back to Baltimore. Okay? The BPD can't spare a man--"
"Or woman," Ralph supplied helpfully. "Or nonbinary or genderqueer individuals."
"--can't spare anyone to pick you up," Calvin said with a sign, pinching the bridge of his helmet. No, it didn't do anything to ease his growing headache, but it was the thought that counted. "So we're going to bring you over to the mainland and drop you off."
"At the local station," Ralph hurried to assure her. "So you'll be safe."
Calvin gave him a dirty look through the helmet. Not that Ralph could see, but his brother would know. "She doesn't understand you, you know," he sighed.
"She still deserves to be told," Ralph declared. "Besides, you were talking to her."
This had to be some kind of new, fiendish plan from Officer Diaz. Calvin could just tell. He looked at the pile of clothing that the Sheriff has scrounged up from lost and found; it was still folded in a neat pile on the bed, untouched. "You gonna put any of that on?" he asked, pointing to it. "It's cold out there." She looked from Calvin to the pile and back, expression still blank. "You know," he continued. "Cold? Winter? Brrr?" He mimed rubbing his arms and pretended to shiver.
She laughed, delighted. "Brrr," she agreed, rubbing her arms, too. "Brrr. Brrr! BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"
Oh no, what had he done?
"Let's just...there's some shoes," he said. "And a coat. Let's see if we can..."
It involved a lot more pantomime that he knew Diaz was once again going to laugh herself sick over, but they managed to get her wearing pants, and a pair of socks and shoes. The coat made it on backwards, but you know what? Good enough.
Remembering the walk from yesterday, Calvin had had the foresight to order a rickshaw to get them down to the parking lot. He hadn't, however, foreseen how difficult it would be to ride in it with her. She'd been placed in the middle of them, but seemed to have no concept of personal space, flinging herself over both of them in turn, sometimes hard enough to rock the rickshaw.
"Keep still back there!" the driver hollered.
"It's harder than it sounds!" Calvin snapped, while Ralph pointed at things and said the names. "Stairs. House. Tree. Duke. Oh, hi Duke!" He waved at the dark-haired man as the passed and the woman copied his movements. She laughed when they descended the stairs, each thunk bringing forth more giggles. Calvin didn't know who was more aggravated when they reached the Causeway, him or the rickshaw driver. He tipped extra with faint hope of that ever being reimbursed.
If he'd had any hope of her calming down in the car, he was vastly disappointed. In fact she got worse with a whole backseat to herself. Practically went berserk as they drove over the Causeway, pointing and chanting, "Home home home home home home home!"
"Yeah, yeah, you're going back to the city," he growled.
"At least she seems excited about it," Ralph offered. "That makes me feel better."
Calvin was pretty sure nothing could make him feel better about this situation. His ears were still ringing from the Sheriff's lecture yesterday about gun safety.
Balitmore was Baltimore, which meant driving among civilians. More than once, he had to lay on the horn to stop someone from just walking into the middle of the road. "Beep," the woman said, bouncing around like a maniac. "Beep! Beeeeeeeep. Beepbeepbeeepbeeep!"
There were a lot of horns for her to mimic, it turned out.
"Put your seatbelt on!" he yelled, turning to glare at her over his shoulder.
"Calvin!" Ralph shouted, grabbing for his arm. "Brake!"
Calvin looked back at the road and swore, slamming on the brakes so as to not blow through the now-red light. They gave a mechanical shriek and the car jerked to a stop. She tumbled forward into the back of his seat. "Oh god, are you okay?" Ralph asked, worried.
"Eeeee!" She looked up at them through the grate, face wreathed in smiles. "Eeee! Ok-ae! Eeeeee!"
"Oh for the love of--" The light turned green and the cars behind them started honking.
"Beeep. Eeee! Eeeee!"
She did a remarkably good impression of squealing tires. Calvin hated it.
They finally pulled up to a precinct. "You get her out of the car," Calvin said. "I'll go find someone to take her off our hands."
Ralph nodded, exiting the car to open the back door. The woman came tumbling out, still grinning and making squealing noises. "Here we are," he said, helping her up. "They're gonna find where you're from, okay? Make sure you get some help."
"Ok-ae," the woman nodded. And stiffened as she noticed a street cart vendor selling hot dogs. She didn't know what those were, but there was a group of people standing near it, laughing and eating, and by golly that was enough to let her know it was food. "Eeee!"
"Oh!" Ralph said, reaching into the backseat to grab the box of tissues they'd brought with them. "Here you go. Don't wanna forget..." He straightened up and looked around. "...these..."
She was gone.
"Oh no."
[Mostly establishy save for the one what knows who they are]
From her nest of tissues on the floor, the young woman looked up at him, blinking in curiosity. Had he come with more food? She'd like that, please.
Calvin sighed, annoyed but unsurprised that the perp wasn't cooperating. "Come on," he said. "We have to escort you back to Baltimore. Okay? The BPD can't spare a man--"
"Or woman," Ralph supplied helpfully. "Or nonbinary or genderqueer individuals."
"--can't spare anyone to pick you up," Calvin said with a sign, pinching the bridge of his helmet. No, it didn't do anything to ease his growing headache, but it was the thought that counted. "So we're going to bring you over to the mainland and drop you off."
"At the local station," Ralph hurried to assure her. "So you'll be safe."
Calvin gave him a dirty look through the helmet. Not that Ralph could see, but his brother would know. "She doesn't understand you, you know," he sighed.
"She still deserves to be told," Ralph declared. "Besides, you were talking to her."
This had to be some kind of new, fiendish plan from Officer Diaz. Calvin could just tell. He looked at the pile of clothing that the Sheriff has scrounged up from lost and found; it was still folded in a neat pile on the bed, untouched. "You gonna put any of that on?" he asked, pointing to it. "It's cold out there." She looked from Calvin to the pile and back, expression still blank. "You know," he continued. "Cold? Winter? Brrr?" He mimed rubbing his arms and pretended to shiver.
She laughed, delighted. "Brrr," she agreed, rubbing her arms, too. "Brrr. Brrr! BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"
Oh no, what had he done?
"Let's just...there's some shoes," he said. "And a coat. Let's see if we can..."
It involved a lot more pantomime that he knew Diaz was once again going to laugh herself sick over, but they managed to get her wearing pants, and a pair of socks and shoes. The coat made it on backwards, but you know what? Good enough.
Remembering the walk from yesterday, Calvin had had the foresight to order a rickshaw to get them down to the parking lot. He hadn't, however, foreseen how difficult it would be to ride in it with her. She'd been placed in the middle of them, but seemed to have no concept of personal space, flinging herself over both of them in turn, sometimes hard enough to rock the rickshaw.
"Keep still back there!" the driver hollered.
"It's harder than it sounds!" Calvin snapped, while Ralph pointed at things and said the names. "Stairs. House. Tree. Duke. Oh, hi Duke!" He waved at the dark-haired man as the passed and the woman copied his movements. She laughed when they descended the stairs, each thunk bringing forth more giggles. Calvin didn't know who was more aggravated when they reached the Causeway, him or the rickshaw driver. He tipped extra with faint hope of that ever being reimbursed.
If he'd had any hope of her calming down in the car, he was vastly disappointed. In fact she got worse with a whole backseat to herself. Practically went berserk as they drove over the Causeway, pointing and chanting, "Home home home home home home home!"
"Yeah, yeah, you're going back to the city," he growled.
"At least she seems excited about it," Ralph offered. "That makes me feel better."
Calvin was pretty sure nothing could make him feel better about this situation. His ears were still ringing from the Sheriff's lecture yesterday about gun safety.
Balitmore was Baltimore, which meant driving among civilians. More than once, he had to lay on the horn to stop someone from just walking into the middle of the road. "Beep," the woman said, bouncing around like a maniac. "Beep! Beeeeeeeep. Beepbeepbeeepbeeep!"
There were a lot of horns for her to mimic, it turned out.
"Put your seatbelt on!" he yelled, turning to glare at her over his shoulder.
"Calvin!" Ralph shouted, grabbing for his arm. "Brake!"
Calvin looked back at the road and swore, slamming on the brakes so as to not blow through the now-red light. They gave a mechanical shriek and the car jerked to a stop. She tumbled forward into the back of his seat. "Oh god, are you okay?" Ralph asked, worried.
"Eeeee!" She looked up at them through the grate, face wreathed in smiles. "Eeee! Ok-ae! Eeeeee!"
"Oh for the love of--" The light turned green and the cars behind them started honking.
"Beeep. Eeee! Eeeee!"
She did a remarkably good impression of squealing tires. Calvin hated it.
They finally pulled up to a precinct. "You get her out of the car," Calvin said. "I'll go find someone to take her off our hands."
Ralph nodded, exiting the car to open the back door. The woman came tumbling out, still grinning and making squealing noises. "Here we are," he said, helping her up. "They're gonna find where you're from, okay? Make sure you get some help."
"Ok-ae," the woman nodded. And stiffened as she noticed a street cart vendor selling hot dogs. She didn't know what those were, but there was a group of people standing near it, laughing and eating, and by golly that was enough to let her know it was food. "Eeee!"
"Oh!" Ralph said, reaching into the backseat to grab the box of tissues they'd brought with them. "Here you go. Don't wanna forget..." He straightened up and looked around. "...these..."
She was gone.
"Oh no."
[Mostly establishy save for the one what knows who they are]
no subject
Date: 2019-11-22 05:57 am (UTC)handwavilyseen this woman’s perp walk the day before, and there she went now, waving cheerfully as she was — deported?Fucking cops, man.
He hoped she was okay.