Night Out

A/N: This was the result from the quoted prompt, and was originally less than a thousand words at request, but I’ve since edited it to provide more details and information. Enjoy!

You wake up in a strange room. Write about the events of the night before, as you gradually remember what happened.

Her head was heavy, and every movement she made took what felt like an eternity to complete. Sitting up and blinking a few times, the unfamiliar blurry interior slowly came into focus. She recognized the fuzziness that consumed her mind as the effects of a date-rape drug, but nothing had been done to her, she could tell.

Taking a few breaths to adjust to the world, she attempted standing, stumbling a few steps forward before her brain remembered how to walk, and then, with precision, she moved towards the door. It was locked, and she had no choice but to return to the bed.

The happenings of the previous night were beginning to take shape, and a seed of fear started germinating in the pit of her stomach as the details became clearer.

It had been a typical night out on the streets selling little white packets. As she recited the same sales pitch she made countless times every night for the past few months, she suddenly found a badge shoved in her face and a rather attractive man telling her she was under arrest.

Quick on her feet as always, she had murmured, “A drink is always much more interesting,” and he had not protested, allowing himself to be led to the closet bar. The rest of the details were still unclear, but she was certain she had dealt with him the same way she had others – by offering something he could not resist in order for him to turn a blind eye.

The bartender gave her a drink, and after that there was nothing but flashes of drowsiness, and shouting, and sirens, and someone carrying her, and then absolute oblivion.

Her reminiscing session was interrupted when the door opened, and she glanced up at the man who entered with a soft smile. “Detective,” she greeted, wincing slightly as a raging headache took the place of the fog, pounding and smashing every lobe and every corner of her head with what felt like a hundred needles.

The male looked at her with coldness written in his eyes, and she stiffened. He did not return her greeting, instead going straight to his point. “Someone drugged your drink, but don’t worry. I rented this room for you.” He said, then immediately continued on with, “About your deal last night…” He paused, smirked. “You’re under arrest for bribery as well.”

A smile grew on her face at that, and the fear disappeared; from a pocket in the back of her dress, she removed her badge. “Well done, Detective,” she said, pushing past the headache. “I am Lieutenant Walters, head of the new anti-corruption squad. We have made numerous arrests since we started, and we are always looking for new faces. Would you be interested in joining?”

He balked, and very slowly, nodded. Her smile widened, even as the pain in her head intensified. Secretly hoping her undercover partner had found the bastard who had knocked her out, she made a mental promise to see to it that said person was very, very sorry for their actions. Ah, yes, how she loved her job.

“Happy to have you aboard,” she said, reaching out to shake his hand. “By the way – do you have any aspirin?”


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