Work Text:
When Laura got the internship at Silas Police Department, she had envisioned taking down bad guys and solving cold cases and generally being kind of a badass. She had not envisioned that her internship would involve filing a lot of paperwork.
And sitting around. A lot of sitting around.
So on day 11, after sitting at her desk for three hours with absolutely nothing to do, she decides to take matters into her own hands.
She had been hearing rumours that there was a lunch thief on the loose, stealing perfectly good lunches out of the employee fridge without leaving a trace. So far, sixteen lunches from nine different people had been pilfered. The culprit must be stopped.
Her desk has a slight view of the kitchen if she leans her chair back and cranes her neck, so as lunch hour approaches, Laura is on the lookout for any suspicious activity. She has a list of all the food she saw stored in the fridge that morning alongside the names of who brought it in.
She watches as Kirsch takes out the dubious looking meatball sandwich and tries not to gag at the sight of the no doubt expired meat. She's busy neatly checking off "disgusting sandwich" from her checklist that she doesn't notice someone walk up right behind her.
“What are you doing?”
The noise startles Laura so much that her chair tips just past the point of no return and she goes down in a heap, checklist flying upwards and then slowly floating down to land softly on her face. There is complete, horrified silence.
Closing her eyes against further embarrassment, Laura lifts the paper slightly to check whom exactly witnessed her humiliation. A tall redhead dressed in a Silas police uniform, detective chevrons displayed on her shoulder, stands nearby looking rather concerned. Detective Lawrence, then. Great.
“Hi, um, I wasn’t doing anything,” Laura stammers, sitting up and trying to right the chair before realizing that the task would be much easier if she was standing up. Just as she comes to this realization, a hand appears in front of her and she clasps it out of reflex, letting its owner pull her to her feet. “Not to say that I have nothing to do, I have a lot of work actually.”
Though Detective Lawrence still looks confused, eyebrows drawn together enough to produce an adorable (not adorable, this is an officer, for crying out loud) line between them, but a dazzling smile also makes an appearance. If Laura’s knees go a little weak at that smile, it’s definitely not her fault; she just went through a trauma falling off her chair. “I’m sure you do. It’s not like I’ve seen you staring off into space at your desk before.”
It’s only when the detective’s cheeks go slightly red that Laura realizes what she just said. But no, it was probably just a slip of the tongue (mind out of the gutter, Hollis), because Detective Lawrence was a detective, duh, and Laura’s just an intern. “I’m Laura, by the way,” she says as a response, sticking her hand out awkwardly, “Laura Hollis."
That dazzling smile is back, and man, criminals must just fall over themselves to confess their crimes for that smile. “I’m Danny Lawrence, pleased to meet you.” Their hands are still shaking when Danny looks over at the employee fridge and frowns. “Looks like someone else lost their lunch.”
Laura spins around, nearly forgetting to let go of Danny’s hand and so nearly falling over again. “No! But I was watching!” She exclaims while watching yet another victim close the fridge in resignation. “I had a checklist and everything.” The expression on her face feels like a strange cross between a pout and righteous anger.
“You’re investigating the thefts?” Danny asks, tilting her head to the side, looking for all the world like an inquisitive puppy.
“Uh, well, kind of? I know that I’m just an intern and probably shouldn’t be investigating crimes by myself,” Laura knows that she sounds vaguely ridiculous, but the word vomit just won’t stop. “I mean, this building is full of detectives, like yourself, who are probably way more qualified.”
“I don’t know, this has been happening for nearly a month and no one’s really done anything about it,” Danny says, running a hand through her hair and tucking a lock of it behind her ear. Laura tries desperately not to swoon. “I’m glad you’ve opened an investigation, it shows initiative.
A voice sounds from across the station, “Hey Lawrence, stop flirting and get over here, we have a case, remember?”
That slight blush is back on Danny’s cheeks as she turns and yells back, “Can it, Kirsch. I’ll be right there.” She clears her throat and says, softer, “Sorry about that, my partner can be kind of awful.”
Laura shakes her head, smiling. “It’s really not a problem.”
Taking a step back, Danny says, “Let me know if you need any help on the fridge thief. I’ll see what I can do.” And then she’s walking across the station, red hair flowing in a breeze that really shouldn’t exist indoors, but the facts cannot be helped.
Laura lets go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding and then slumps down into her chair with a grin on her face. The checklist of lunch foods is on the desk in front of her and she picks it up once more, tilting her chair back precariously to get a glimpse at the fridge.
She was going to solve this crime, catch a criminal, and maybe even impress a detective in the process.