You will pay for your sins, you'll be sorry my dear.
All the lies, all the whys, will all be crystal clear.
-Blow Me One Last Kiss, P!nk
"Excuse me?" Sharon must have misheard.
"I'm planning to retire next fall, and FID will need a new head," Bancroft said calmly.
"But I don't know anything about Internal Affairs!" she sputtered. "Most of your department outranks me, and-"
Hotchkiss cut in. "We realize those things, but you must realize that transfers and promotions often come together."
"If you accept a transfer to FID following you return from maternity leave, I can make you Captain," Bancroft continued.
Sharon stared at the man, flabbergasted. According to traditional ranking, she would have to be promoted thrice more, through both lieutenant ranks, to reach Captain. She had heard of people jumping up through the ranks, but it was uncommon.
"That's a nice offer, Sarge," Hotchkiss muttered, carefully pulling rank.
Sharon finally found her voice. "I had been hoping to return to active duty."
"You would still receive call-outs in FID; it isn't all administrative."
"There's a substantial pay raise and more regular hours. Easier on the family," Hotchkiss added suggestively.
"Could I have some time to think about it?" Sharon asked.
Hotchkiss and Bancroft looked at each other, clearly somewhat dismayed.
"Two weeks sounds fair," Bancroft said, his voice betraying no emotion. "Come back with your answer by-" he paused to look at his calendar. "May sixteenth."
When Sharon left, Hotchkiss followed her out into the hall. The older woman put an arm around Sharon's shoulders and steered her behind an abandoned whiteboard.
"Sergeant, as a fellow police officer and as your superior, I truly hope you accept this transfer. You would have to take on the terrible burdens of additional pay, better hours, and promotion," she said sarcastically. "But it would do the other women of the LAPD good to see you in a position of power. At this time, you are the second-highest ranking woman in the force, myself above you. There are more lower-ranked women, and they need someone to look up to. Someone they can relate to. Besides, I won't be here forever, and when I'm gone I want someone strong and insightful to be the Women's Coordinator." She stared at Sharon pointedly, then slipped her business card into Sharon's hand, turned, and disappeared into the depths of FID.
Sharon stood there for a moment, before retreating back to the main patrol desk, five stories down, to start a late shift.
The young officer on the desk looked confused when she came in.
"Sarge, you've got the day off."
"What?"
He looked at her strangely. "Computer says you're on administrative leave today, as per FID."
"Oh," she mumbled. Bancroft seriously wanted her to consider his offer. "Thanks."
"Yeah," the man said. "Did FID not tell you they were forcing you to take off? They can be real assholes sometimes, pardon the language."
She smiled weakly and began the walk back to her car, Hotchkiss' card burning a hole in her pocket.
~*~*~*~*~
Sharon ended up just going home, wondering what to do with all the free time. She called Marcia and made an appointment for late afternoon, then changed into well-worn jeans and an old LAPD tee. She left the business card in her work pants' pocket, though. She didn't want to think about it. She had never considered a transfer, especially one to Internal Affairs. She had always just assumed she would return from maternity leave and rejoin Meriwether on patrol. Ricky and the baby could go to daycare on the days both she and Jack worked, and she would watch them on her days off. Jack was always off by seven, so he could watch them during her night shifts.
If he doesn't go out drinking, she thought. She squashed the idea immediately. Jack would be there for her.
And to be transfered to Internal Affairs! Who in their right mind would transfer there? She had heard the pay was good, but she wasn't sure that would make up for the blatant disrespect with which IA officers were generally treated. She wasn't sure about the 'administrative' aspect, either. She enjoyed sitting shotgun with Meri and being in the forefront. As far as she knew, FID officers only ventured outside their offices after the perp was dead and the running was done. They stole crime scenes and evidence, even suspects, upon occasion.
"Why the hell would I want to join them?" she asked aloud. "Maybe the dark side has cookies," she added, laughing darkly.
She spent her remaining time cleaning house. It was strange, but she found it almost pleasant to have the house to herself as she scrubbed the place with classical ballet echoing through the stereo.
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