Work Text:
The precinct is mostly empty, most going to play security at some float parade downtown, but a few buzz around. Koa juggles holding a coffee cup, keys, his phone, two manila folders, and a shoe box full of foam peanuts as he shuffles to his desk.
Dumping it all with no fanfare, Koa stares at everything for a solid minute before sitting down and groaning miserably as his body screams in protest.
The coffee's lukewarm, the folders are unmarked, and the foam packing peanuts have somehow escaped the shoe box and are starting to static-cling to his shirt. “Ah, this is where hell begins.”
Picking the foam peanuts off his shirt, Koa tosses them into the trash.
One misses, and he just sighs, tired; he doesn’t go after it, though.
Someone clears their throat, and Koa doesn’t glance up, already annoyed by the guy's mere presence. “Unless you’re bringing me tea instead of fuckass coffee or a compelling reason to stay on this job,” he mutters, “don’t even start.”
A long pause, but he can hear the other stifling a laugh.
Then: “Not sure I have either of those, but I do have orders to report to Sergeant Rohrbach. This her desk or yours?”
He looks up, his mood dampening even more. The guy is good-looking, really good-looking in an irritating way. Tanned, dark, wavy hair, lean build and a jawline that Koa finds himself somewhat jealous of.
Makes him a little self-conscious of his weight if he’s honest.
It’s muscle, he reminds himself.
“Her desks in the back,” Koa nods to a lone desk. “You the rookie?”
“Technically a transfer,” the guy replies, already walking that way. “But I won’t correct you if it makes you feel better.”
Koa rolls his eyes, but continues picking foam packing peanuts off himself. How a guy that looks like Adonis winds up in a precinct like this one is beyond him. He takes a glance over his shoulder to see the rookie and Amy talking.
Leaning back in his chair, he watches them from a distance. There’s something about the guy's posture that makes him think military, but another part of him says privately trained.
Koa leans back further, listening to the chair creak as he does, fingers steepled behind his head, eyes narrowing just a little.
Something about the guy ticks him off, but he isn’t sure what it is, not grimy or sleezy. Koa looks away as they finish their conversation; he’d rather not have Amy smacking him on the back of his head for eavesdropping again.
Or rat him out for wearing studs that aren’t silver or gold, again.
He rolls his shoulders and deposits the now-cold coffee into the bin under his desk and the shoe box to the side. Leaning over and ripping open one of the manila folders, Koa quickly looks over the cover page and bites back a groan.
Of course, he gets settled with a case like this.
“-Just watch out for Kaikoa, he thinks everyone is an asshole and he will add you to that list if he even finds you mildly annoying.”
Koa looks up. “Amy.”
She smiles down at him, her hair pulled back into a bun with two strands framing her face. “Kaikoa, I was just about to introduce you to our newest recruit.”
“I could hear.”
“How nice,” Amy turns to the rookie. “If you need anything and I’m not there, bother Detective Dominguez about it.”
She always seemed to have it out for him, not for any real reason, just because she could. Koa wasn’t bothered by it; he had it out for her, too.
He rolls his eyes, pretending not to notice the hand the rookie offers him. “Don’t bug me before three o’clock.”
“Right,” The rookie retracts his hand. “I’m Dick Grayson.”
Koa eyes him, assessing. “Dick Grayson is Bruce Wayne’s adopted son?”
“Not adopted.”
“Uh-huh,” Koa deadpans, then leans back in his chair again, causing it to creak under his weight. “Right, unfortunate name though.”
Dick glances at Amy, but she only shrugs in response and pats his shoulder in mock pity. “You’ll get used to him after some time, just don’t let his comments get under your skin, he hates everyone here equally.”
“Cruel, so cruel,” Koa reaches for the paperwork he had been reading and flips through it. “But I’m not the one who’s brutally honest with Mikey.”
“He deserves it,” Amy bites back and shakes her head. “Now come on, we’re running short on time.”
Koa waves goodbye.
His attention is back on the paperwork, and he carefully looks away from the attached photos to read the lengthy analysis. Koa snorts at the additional note, which should not be there on a case like this and rubs his forehead as he spots a second signature.
A heavy sigh before tossing it back on his desk.
Staring up at the ceiling, Koa counts the cracks and does his best to stop himself from imagining anything. Sometimes, he thinks, people are evil incarnate and there’s really no way to fix them.
Sitting up straight, Koa glances to where Amy and the rookie disappeared, somewhat chagrined that Amy knew about him being assigned this case but didn’t mention it.
Koa’s fingers tap rhythmically against the edge of his desk as the faint sounds of the precinct buz around him. He should really check into stronger migraine medication, but the benefits at the precinct were awful, so he’d have to pay fully.
He glances back at the paperwork.
A part of him is a little sick, another part of him is upset, and the rest of him is just angry.
Before he can continue with it, heavy footsteps approach, and he looks up. “Captain Downes.”
“Detective Dominguez, I want you to take over the Binker case to show Officer Grayson the ropes.”
Koa watches the heavy-set man for a moment, a little disgruntled, before motioning to the paperwork on his desk. “If I take Binker, can someone else take over this hot garbage?”
Captain Downes sighs, then remains silent for a long moment before caving in. “You have the doctor case?”
“If you mean a doctor that went ahead and did awful shit to newborns, then yeah, I have the doctor case and I want this hot garbage off my desk and out of my brain.”
Downes grunts and scratches at the back of his neck like he’s regretting all his life choices. “Alright. You’ve earned the switch. Mikey can take over the doctor.”
Koa grins for the first time that morning, vicious and pleased. “He’s going to curse your bloodline and mine.”
“He’ll live,” Downes grunted. “But don’t get too comfortable. Binker’s already weird. She disappeared right off a hospital’s front lawn, and not one camera caught it. You’ve got two hours before the press catches wind and starts spinning ghost stories.”
A small hum. “To be honest, with Nightwing swooping around, it wouldn’t faze me that we’re gonna get our own little rogue gallery.”
“Don’t jinx it,” Downes says, shaking his head and walking off, but he turns his head and looks over his shoulder. “And if you do see the vigilante, give him a good ass whooping for me.”
Koa gives a thumbs up and collects all the paperwork before standing up and waltzing over to Mikey, a pale, freckled blond that’s undeniably a creep.
But the good kind of creep.
“Mikey, Mikey, have I ever told you how much I love you?” Koa creeps up from behind, causing the shorter man to flinch.
He turns, eyes narrowing at him. “You can’t sneak up on people, you’re a 6’4 Polynesian of pure muscle, someone is going to tase you one day.”
“Did you just racial profile?” Koa mocks hurt. “Should I complain to HR?”
“Okay, Mr 260 lbs, I think HR would take my side, you scare them too.” Mikey points out before spotting the two folders. “What’s that?”
Koa smiles, all teeth. “I’m so glad you asked. It’s your new case because I’ll throw up before any real work is done.”
“How you’ve made it this far is beyond me,” Mikey intones, grabbing the folder and flipping through the open one. “Suppose other Polynesians like you are also squeamish?”
“Now, we’re entering ‘can turn racist really quickly’ territory,” Koa fiddles with his fingers as Mikey reads through.
Mikey doesn’t even look up, already flipping to the next page. “Relax, you’re too big to cancel.”
“I wasn’t worried about myself, man.”
A snort. “I’m too white, I’m the poster child of purity.”
“Okay then,” Koa gags. “Whaddya think of the case though?”
Mikey sighs and puts both folders on his desk before looking at Koa intently. “I can see why you didn’t want the case, for sure. CSA is always a touchy thing.”
“Yeah.”
“And I honestly would love to see this guy behind bars, or on death row, but let's be realistic here, he’s more the puppet than the perp.” Mikey plays around with a pen, spinning it. “And if we did get to arrest whoever he is, who’s to say the parents won’t stand up for him? Or his other buyers won’t interfere?”
Sometimes, Koa thinks, if he could, he’d kill every threat to innocent people.
But he can’t.
“It’s disgusting,” He says weakly. “I don’t understand how the parents-”
Mikey just shakes his head. “The doctor probably looked for people who were just as fucked up as himself, but we don’t get to ask the psychology questions.”
He nods.
“I’ll handle the case, but what are you doing instead?”
Koa frowns, his mood going sour. “Binker, and I have to cover it with the rookie, even though he’s with Rohrbach.”
“Good luck,” Mikey laughs before turning his head slightly. “I think he’s waiting for you, though.”
Koa peers at the exit, catching sight of Dick Grayson fiddling with his badge and sheepishly smiling at the women flirting with him.
He groans before straightening up, standing to his full height and calling out. “Grayson. You riding with me?”
Grayson pushes off the wall and quickly says goodbye to the women to join Koa’s side. “Lead the way.”
“Right,” Koa grits and walks toward the exit, a little disturbed at how calm the rookie is, and how he didn’t really seem to care about how he towered over him.
The cold air hits him as he opens the exit, but his pride keeps him from shivering, and he risks a glance at Grayson, who still seems unaffected. “You always this quiet?”
“Only around people who clearly don’t want to be talked to before three.”
Koa’s mouth twitches. Smartass.
He likes him even less for it.