Disclaimer: I own nothing. Angel the Series belongs to Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt. Rizzoli and Isles belongs to Tess Gerritsen.
A/N: This is dedicated to MBB who, once upon a time, asked if - with my preference for background characters and all - I'd ever thought about writing a Kate Lockley bit. I hadn't at that time, but it got me thinking about it and browsing the FFAs which eventually sprung this little oneshot. Hope everyone likes it.
A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.
Detective Rizzoli didn’t seem to be one of those people who took to the end of the world very well.
She didn’t like it – this was something she repeated often between pacing and fielding phone calls from her mother. That is of course, when she was doing something that everybody in the precinct had long learned not to refer to as either hiding or pouting in Dr. Isles' lab.
Kate was keeping half an eye on her and half on her computer. Jumping a bit each time something new appeared on her email. She really wasn’t quite sure how she had gotten on the mailing list to receive updates such as:Prophesy finally fully decoded! Will start with rain of acid not rain of fire this time – Witches adjust your shield spells accordingly!
orBeheading DOES NOT Work! Repeat - BEHEADING DOES NOT WORK! Normal stabbing, bludgeoning, burning, shooting, and combusting still apply! And remember to coat your weapons in holy water!
They all really seemed way
too cheerful and to contain the same tone of frantic energy she remembers from cramming for college finals.
And she can almost think of it that way – almost forget her experiences working with Angel (and the time it really did rain fire in LA). Just try to convince herself
it was all a dream and Boston is her new life where none of this can touch her. She does good work here and she’s made friends….
It’s when she’s pulling into the station with her partner and it starts raining - the rain hits the bullet proof windshield….and burns right through it. Then she knows for sure that it was all real.
And she knows for sure that they’re all fucked.
Wide-eyed and scared. It’s not a good look for anyone, but especially not cops. Not the people who have sworn to protect their city.
The people who have no idea in hell what is going on.
But standing around the station answering panicked calls with vague responses that ‘we're doing the best we can’
and ‘please mam, don’t panic’
, wasn’t going to cut it. These were stopgate measures (and poor ones at that) and the bad part was that everyone knew it.
When the Chief calls a precinct wide meeting to let them know that they have been raised to a state of emergency and what that will mean for the force she can’t help but ask the question (her sense of self-preservation, especially when it came to keeping her job has never been especially high), “Has anyone got any news from the Council? Do you know why the shields fell?”
And the room is quiet for a long moment, everyone looking at her incomprehensibly, until Detective Korsak steps forward from where he had been leaning against the wall.
“I’ve got a niece who works with them – they had her stationed in Cleveland. She’s not one of the higher up’s just back up and all,” he said vaguely looking incredibly uncomfortable the entire time.
“Magical support?” she asks bluntly ignoring the incredulous looks she gets from the other in the room. She hadn’t wanted that here – not here where this new life, this new place so many many miles away from the city of angels and one “Angel” in particular.
But there isn’t time for beating around the bush and now it doesn’t matter if they think she’s crazy since the world is ending after all. And her bet pays off because there it is - the way his face relaxes. The meeting of eyes, the understanding of yeah, we know this shit is real.
“Yeah,” he says. “She called a while ago. She was saying something about the type of stuff coming out of the sky changing too quickly. They were having a hard time. Seemed the group here lost their hold on it,” he frowned.
“You know someone in this group, too?” Rizzolli asked with narrowed eyes.
“I’m on an e-mail list,” she said turning to the other detective with a smirk, refusing to give any more personal information. She was not going to talk about vampires if she didn’t have to – she didn’t want to lose all of her credibility here. “I get happy little updates every apocalypse.”
Korsak gave a snort, “Isabel offered to put me on that too but she knows how much I hate technology.” Then his face softened into a smile. “And how much I worry about her.”
Kate gave him an understanding look. “I can see how that would drive you crazy then. I’ve been feeling twitchy and I don’t have family involved.”
“Hey,” Detective Rizzolli says, her rough voice sharp and commanding. “What are you two talking about. Who are these people. ‘The Council’ or something you said right?” She leaned towards them unintentionally intimidating with her body language as if she was interrogating them.
They shared another look and let out almost identical sighs. Neither where sure where to start with this. How to explain an entire magical organization that fought monsters – how to even explain that any of that was even real to people who had never been given reason (fanged, slimy, clawed, blood-sucking proof) to believe in it.
But Kate had the fleeting thought even as Korsak bit the bullet and went first (she filled in with the information she had when he floundered creating a strange patchwork presentation of supernatural knowledge to the other, if not exactly believing, fascinated officers) if they lived through this she might have actually gained another friend here at the precinct.
But first things first - end of the world.