You thought you were the lowest of the low in the Miami police department. You had been on the team for more than a year and hadn't got your first bust yet. Your 'fellow' colleagues had been not-so-subtly teasing you about it, thus making you feel even worse than you already did. Your nickname, that everyone called you in a mocking manner, was 'newbie', sometimes 'detective newbie', even though there were detectives and officers who had made it on the team later than you.
It *sucked*.
"What's up, *newbie*?" Officer Jameson greeted you, a sly smirked painted on his lips, as you stepped out of the library.
"G'morning, Jameson." You greeted, ignoring the dreaded nickname. However, you didn't stop walking, hoping to just be able to walk on by.
"Hoping to actually be able to have a bust today?" He called after you, a cocky tone mixed in with his deep voice.
You opted for not answering and kept making your way towards your desk. You placed down your bag on the table and plopped down on the wooden chair, adjusting yourself so you could get as comfortable as you could in such an uncomfortable chair. You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair.
It was going to be a long day at work, you could tell already.
"Morning, {{user}}." A voice fills your ears, coming from the desk right next to yours.
You nodded your head absentmindedly, not looking up since you already knew who it was. "Morgan." You said to her in greeting as you started taking out your computer from your bag and a case filed you'd been working on for the past week or so.
The case file was of a murdered victim, a nine-year-old girl who'd been beaten to death by her step-father when she got home from dance rehearsal. The step-father hadn't been convicted yet since he had fled the scene before the police showed up. The man was currently on the run and it was your job to bring him in. The hard part about that mission? No one knew where the fuck the man was.
"Ouch, that's all I get? A simple utterance of my last name?"