Ficlet: Speed
Title: Speed
Fandom: L&O: SVU and R&I (crossover)
Rating: PG
Words: 524 words
Notes: Based on the three word prompt from geonncannon which was: Jane Rizzoli/Olivia Benson, out of town.
It was a rare time to see Olivia Benson with a less than purposeful stride; it was even rarer still to see her outside of the County of New York without a specific goal in mind. Yet here she was, taking in bustling scenery (and its accompanying throngs of tourists) in the middle of Boston's downtown, just steps away from Faneuil Hall.
Mandatory downtime that had been reinforced by a huff and a glare from Cragen had first meant a thorough cleaning of her apartment -- the attempts by the warrens of dust bunnies to hide in the wee corners of the furniture had failed when Olivia decided to tackle the task with gusto and the added reach of a new dustmop. For all the time that she thought she’d be spending cleaning and organizing her space, an early start and energetic mopping meant that by early-afternoon, she had half-surrendered to the unrelenting boredom of daytime talkshows.
It was an impulse thought that led her to the Amtrak booking site and even faster was the notice of a mid-week sale available up and down the Northeastern corridor. Boston was far enough from New York that it could be considered an actual vacation; apparently, weekends to a cabin upstate did not count as vacation or an even legitimate use of mandatory downtime when it got interrupted more often than not.
All of this then begged the question of why she currently found herself pressed up against the smudged windows of a marked BPD car. It was one thing to go on a foot chase after an attempted purse snatching, it was another to be caught in an ongoing police operation. The only satisfaction that could be said was the fact that the thief had been caught within the same operation, and his struggles were only making the situation worse.
Out of the corner of her vision, Olivia Benson froze and then began wondering at what was happening; a woman that could have been wholly mistaken for the former ADA Abbie Carmichael frowned at her and demanded identification and her reason for chasing after the other person that was now in police custody. She may have worn Carmichael’s visage, but her accent and questions readily revealed her own background of Boston and police officer with her pointed line of questions.
A quick answer and gesture to her pocket revealed the badge wallet that rarely left her person - clearly identifying her as a fellow peace officer (even if she was out of her jurisdiction). A muttered apology and quick release followed, and Olivia recovered herself by asking the same questions from this Bostonian doppleganger.
She might have thought to amuse herself with a trip out to watch the whales, or even mustering up the gumption to attend a game at the famed Green Monster (although, as an avowed Mets fan, she did not have the same hatred of the Boston Red Sox as her Yankee coworkers had oft protested). Never would she have imagined herself spending time perusing a happy hour menu in the company of members from the Homicide Unit and their medical examiner.
Fandom: L&O: SVU and R&I (crossover)
Rating: PG
Words: 524 words
Notes: Based on the three word prompt from geonncannon which was: Jane Rizzoli/Olivia Benson, out of town.
It was a rare time to see Olivia Benson with a less than purposeful stride; it was even rarer still to see her outside of the County of New York without a specific goal in mind. Yet here she was, taking in bustling scenery (and its accompanying throngs of tourists) in the middle of Boston's downtown, just steps away from Faneuil Hall.
Mandatory downtime that had been reinforced by a huff and a glare from Cragen had first meant a thorough cleaning of her apartment -- the attempts by the warrens of dust bunnies to hide in the wee corners of the furniture had failed when Olivia decided to tackle the task with gusto and the added reach of a new dustmop. For all the time that she thought she’d be spending cleaning and organizing her space, an early start and energetic mopping meant that by early-afternoon, she had half-surrendered to the unrelenting boredom of daytime talkshows.
It was an impulse thought that led her to the Amtrak booking site and even faster was the notice of a mid-week sale available up and down the Northeastern corridor. Boston was far enough from New York that it could be considered an actual vacation; apparently, weekends to a cabin upstate did not count as vacation or an even legitimate use of mandatory downtime when it got interrupted more often than not.
All of this then begged the question of why she currently found herself pressed up against the smudged windows of a marked BPD car. It was one thing to go on a foot chase after an attempted purse snatching, it was another to be caught in an ongoing police operation. The only satisfaction that could be said was the fact that the thief had been caught within the same operation, and his struggles were only making the situation worse.
Out of the corner of her vision, Olivia Benson froze and then began wondering at what was happening; a woman that could have been wholly mistaken for the former ADA Abbie Carmichael frowned at her and demanded identification and her reason for chasing after the other person that was now in police custody. She may have worn Carmichael’s visage, but her accent and questions readily revealed her own background of Boston and police officer with her pointed line of questions.
A quick answer and gesture to her pocket revealed the badge wallet that rarely left her person - clearly identifying her as a fellow peace officer (even if she was out of her jurisdiction). A muttered apology and quick release followed, and Olivia recovered herself by asking the same questions from this Bostonian doppleganger.
She might have thought to amuse herself with a trip out to watch the whales, or even mustering up the gumption to attend a game at the famed Green Monster (although, as an avowed Mets fan, she did not have the same hatred of the Boston Red Sox as her Yankee coworkers had oft protested). Never would she have imagined herself spending time perusing a happy hour menu in the company of members from the Homicide Unit and their medical examiner.