The Cast Of Ride Forever!
These are characters that the members of Ride Forever (affectionately known as RF) have created based on themselves. I'm in there (somewhere!) as are at least 10 others! These are characters that may or may not appear in other works of fanfic but we had fun just creating them! If you want to join in the fun, why not join our list... I think you'll find it a little different to any other list you've ever joined... but then again maybe not!
Ride Forever!
Officer Manna LaDroit...
... is a cop at the 27th currently stuck on the night shift, which she is slowly growing to like quite a bit.
Tall, with dark hair and eyes, she's gone through several partners amiably enough, though they tend to get annoyed with the way she's always humming songs and singing along to the radio. She's getting a good rep for dealing with hysterical people at the scene, and for writing thorough and prompt reports.
She's been into origami all her life, and used to leave paper animals all over the station until Welsh told her to cut it out. Now she leaves them behind in her squad car. Probably the story everyone knows her the most for is the time she talked a jumper down from a ledge before the shrink showed up by making her a paper giraffe and then promising to show her how to make one too.
She gets along well enough with everyone, though she keeps to herself mostly and expects soon to be transferred to another precinct. She doesn't understand why Elaine doesn't become a "real" cop, she was there in the diner when Gardino was killed, and she thinks Welsh is the best lieutenant in the state. She likes Vecchio because he keeps the elephant she left on his desk, but she's kept away from Fraser on purpose because from what she's heard his origami skills are doubtlessly better than hers.
Dr. Victoria West....
had been working at the hospital in down town Chicago for a year when the Mountie was first brought into her Emergency room.
Her blue eyes sparkled with the knowledge that for once she was in charge of her emotions. It surprised her somewhat that she didn't feel attraction for the Mountie - he was pretty much what she would have defined as 'her type'. Even as he lay there though, there was something she didn't like about him. This was a relief because her boyfriend (who didn't quite fit her previous description of 'the ideal man') was working in the next room.
She did however admire his leather boots as she reached up to treat him, (her short stature was something that had plagued her, her entire life.) She had lived with horses for the entire of her youth and being fairly materialistic especially when it came to shoes, she could spot an expensive, yet well cared for pair of boots at 300 paces. She wondered, as she stopped the nurse from cutting them off, if she could get a pair for herself.
Everyone who knew her looked forward to an invite to one of her legendary parties. Two were never quite the same. Some were wild and drunken, some involved elaborate dishes that she spent the whole day or even days preparing but the one's she liked best were those with her closest friends that lasted way into the early hours as they put the world to rights.
Maria Crothers
... first came to Chicago to meet a long time friend. Coming from a small town, she was impressed by the huge city, its sky scrappers, and the hustle and bustle of millions of people--more than she'd thought she'd see in a lifetime--scurrying around.
When she came out of her hostel room on her last morning, there were cops milling around the lobby. She was amused by the presence of a Mountie, but not surprised--Chicago's quirkiness had sapped her of her last reserve of 'surprise'--but she was blown away by the very beautiful Italian American cop questioning the desk clerk. This was her last day and she didn't have any souvenirs, yet, but she knew she'd be taking this guy home in her heart.
Investigator Alex Peters is…
well, an investigator. She's employed by the City of Chicago for the sole purpose of investigating criminal and non-criminal allegations against City employees. Because of her name and occupation she's been given the nickname Sneaky Pete.
Ms. Peters' current assignment is to investigate the 27th Precinct. In the course of her investigation, she will conduct interviews, collect documents and use photographic and video equipment to maintain surveillance. Once her investigation is complete, she will submit a comprehensive report detailing her findings and will appear and testify in court and at Personnel Board hearings, if necessary. Currently, she is reviewing work schedules and time sheets to assure employees are present and accounted for. She has arranged interview sessions with each employee in the 27th Precinct and scuttlebutt has it she's after Detective Raymond Vecchio for alleged time sheet violations.
Because of the nature of her assignment, Ms. Peters is not well liked by the employees of the 27th Precinct. Detective Vecchio has a particular dislike for the woman because he unwittingly gave her ammunition to use against him when she first arrived at the precinct. Because of her bookworm, conservative, no-nonsense appearance, he mistakenly assumed she was the accountant his brother-in-law was sending him to prepare his tax return. He hustled her into an interview room (along with a shoe box full of papers) and proceeded to lay out his W-2, 1099's, 1098's, receipts, real estate tax and interest statements, etc. It wasn't until they were discussing just how much he should lie about his charitable contributions that Lieutenant Welsh arrived and introduced them.
Ms. Peters appears to take great relish in her job and was recently overheard to say whoever had time to fold paper giraffes should be considered expendable in the next budget cut.
Hi, I'm Janice Sager...
and I'm the owner of 'The Meandering Muse', a bookstore/coffee shop located a couple of blocks from the 27th Precinct. I've had the pleasure of meeting Constable Fraser when he came in looking for a hard to find book about currency water marks. We specialize in rare and out of print titles, as well as a broad range of current titles. If we don't have, we'll try to find it -- and usually do! There's no charge for the service if we can't.
It's an old brick building, sandwiched between others just like it, but I and my husband have fixed it up. There's a beautiful mullioned picture window in the front and a real fire place around which is scattered several small tables. We're almost as well known for our old world atmosphere as we are for our Black Forest Cake. We have quite a clientele from the precinct, especially in the mornings. Lieutenant Welsh is a regular.
As for me personally, I'm pretty average really. Five foot tall with long brown hair and big hazel eyes. As stated, I'm happily married with two young children. We all live in a large loft apartment over the store. It's really the perfect arrangement for us. My husband is a computer geek who specializes in house calls, my children are in grade school and I get to sit at my computer when the store is slow working on writing my own books. One of these days I hope to actually be published. Oh -- and I recent discovered the world of fandom and fanfic on the internet. One group in particular has piqued my interest, called RideForever. It's quite fascinating and fun. I've even tried my hand at a few stories myself!
Hi, I'm Cheryl Barnes...
the department manager of the health and beauty aide section in one of the department stores near Octavia Street. Because I've worked there for (cough cough) number of years, I've come to know the regular customers quite well. The Vecchio's shop my store all the time. I know Rosa likes Clairol's Nice and Easy and wouldn't dream of trying any of the new hair colours. I helped Frannie pick out her first mascara when she was just 15 and I swear I could retire a wealthy woman if I had a dime for each kind of makeup she has bought over the years. Maria keeps me running for Neosporin and band aides for her active brood of children. That Ray now, I've gone from handing him Head and Shoulders when he had a full head of hair to fetching the last box of Rogaine from the stockroom for him these last several years.
A couple of years ago, a new friend began accompanying the family on their stops for household supplies, Constable Benton Fraser, a Mountie stationed at the Consulate, and works closely with Ray at the 27th precinct. My, that Constable is such a handsome man! So polite! Called me Cheryl the first time I met him because he read the plastic name tag I'm required to wear on my right shoulder. He isn't that tall, though. I'm 5'11" and can look him straight in the eyes -- at least when he isn't wearing those Mountie boots and his Stetson. Ray is slightly taller than the Mountie when they are both in *civilian garb*.
Don't know quite what to think about the latest things those two have been buying. A couple of months ago they started to patronize the family planning counter that I keep filled. They buy condoms and lubricant on a pretty regular basis. Despite Frannie's attempts to hang onto the Mountie (along with half the female employees that work here, too) I haven't seen him with any body in particular and I just can't imagine him -uh - needing *those* items except with someone special. Rosa hasn't mentioned anything about Ray finding a new girl, either. She mentioned once or twice something about a Louise St. Laurent and sighs about his ex wife Ange, but seems like Ray doesn't have a steady girl. I've made an effort, however, to make certain I'm never out of the Trojan brand condoms, 36 count, and the Astroglide lubricant that they seem to favour.
In any case, it is always a joy to be around Ray's energetic animation and Constable Fraser's unstinting politeness. They've always treated me, middle aged, heavy set with thick glasses and bucked teeth, with nothing less than respect and complete understanding when the demands of a hectic department store get to be too much.
Jan Brandt...
works for the City of Chicago's Roads Department, and is responsible for the area where the 27th precinct is located. In the summer her main duty is repairing potholes, and in the winter she drives a snow plow.
She works occasionally with the cops at the 27th. They provide traffic control assistance from time to time, and she makes sure the roads are passable so they can respond to emergencies.
She's known Detective Vecchio slightly since he was a rookie, in fact she had to give him pointers on how to direct traffic.
Vecchio's new friend, the Mountie, seems very open to alternative spiritualities, and Jan would like to invite him to her (pagan) church, but is too shy to do so. One day she'll find the right conversational opening, however, even though it's rare that their paths cross.
When they do meet, it's usually at a hockey game. Jan's a huge fan, knows all the player stats, and yells really LOUD.
Oh, you'll know Jan if ye see her out with a road crew: she's the short, fat woman with red hair and blue (usually) eyes hidden behind thick glasses. She always wears a hat, in fact she owns a Stetson like the Mounties, because she admires his so much. Also, the goddess charms on her necklace are a permanent feature.
So, the next time ye pass a road crew at work, honk and wave
Hi! Dulcie Nelson...
is an assistant Coroner, currently attached to the 27th. Unlike many others, dealing with the dead doesn't disturb her. Instead she loves to unravel the mysteries surrounding a suspected murder. She's currently taking classes at the University of Chicago to become a full-fledged forensic pathologist. Unfortunately her junior position usually means that she is assigned the more tedious and unrewarding work. She does take heart, however, knowing that she's doing her part to bring murderers to justice.
Dulcie is known for treating the deceased with dignity and respect and it's not unusual to hear her talking to her subjects. More than a few cops find that odd and disturbing, but secretly hope that if they were to end up on the coroner's table, that she would be the one to do their post-mortem. She once caught two cadets in an autopsy bay late at night, taking turns photographing each other with a beautiful, well-known corpse. Not only did she confiscate the camera and report them, but they were treated to her rarely seen, but considerable temper. She also has little patience for the false bravado that many young cops take on when visiting the morgue.
Dulcie has only met Dt. Vecchio and Constable Fraser one or twice and was impressed by the Italian cop's gentle manner and honesty. The Constable amused her with his unusual detection techniques and seeming lack of squeamishness about anything. Even she had her limits, but she allowed him to do as he liked anyway.
She is on good terms with her supervisor, Dr. Esther Pearson and considers her a mentor. Dulcie is rather short and stocky, but strong enough to handle most corpses with little assistance. Her hair is long and dark red in color, usually tied back and her blue eyes are most often covered with safety goggles.
Sgt. Sandra Randant...
of the greater Chicago area P.D. sat in her office, queen of all she surveyed. The fact that her office consisted of the darkest part of the farthest corner of the basement of the 27th precinct never seems to bother her much. Neither did her less than regal appearance, for that matter. She stood less than five feet two inches tall with thick, shoulder length hair that was currently blond, although the color, as her friends could attest, was subject to change without warning. Another aspect of her royal personage that might fool the uninitiated was the reality that she was slightly over weight. Okay, more than just slightly. The fact was no one had come after her with harpoons yet, but then again, long ago she had decided to play it safe and stay off the beach. Undoubtedly her best features were her large almond shaped green eyes, although most failed to notice them, hidden as they were behind the thick lenses of her wire framed glasses.
Her domain was defined in front by a long counter some two feet wide and four feet high and extending, end to end, a full twenty feet in length. It was topped by a rusty wire mesh grill, broken only in the center by small slot that ensured that nothing bigger an a shoe box entered or left her charge without a signature and the use of the large side door to which only she and the shift commander had a key. The rest of her kingdom consisted of a seemingly endless maze of metal racks that went floor to ceiling, stuffed to overflowing with bewildering array of items. There were boxes and bags, suitcases and jewelry, microwaves and televisions of all sizes and descriptions. It seemed that every form of human invention was represented here, ranging from the poignant -- a tiny pair of mud spattered shoes, to the absurd -- a case of brightly colored condoms that would display a comical saying when unrolled. This place was referred to in loftier circles by its proper name, Evidence Tagging and Storage but was otherwise known to one and all as The Cage. Dingy warred with dank to be its predominant design element with clutter coming in a close third. Still, it had been her home away from home for fifteen years and unless Ed McMahon came through with that ten million he was always promising, she guessed it would be for fifteen more.
Dark or not, dingy or not, the Cage was her place and she ruled it with an iron hand. Every item that made its way beyond the grill had to be properly tagged, numbered and catalogued. The filing system here was as complicated as it was arcane but she was its undisputed master and woe to any flatfoot who messed it up by trying to cut corners. Why, just the other night she had threatened to chew the Duck Boys new bodily orifices when they brought a whole shitload of evidence in with less than half the articles initialed and none of them properly logged. Although most of the uniforms and plain clothes officers that worked out of the 27th had earned the sharp side of her tongue at one time or other, few had been on the receiving end of her verbal pummeling more often than one Raymond Vecchio, Detective 2nd Class. Not that he screwed up more often than any other cop. On the contrary, he did better than most. Lately, since he started sporting that gorgeous red shadow of his, the mistakes in his work had nearly disappeared all together. No, if she came down hard on Vecchio, it was for the same reason a child will twist the ring attached to the spring inside of a toy car. She liked to wind him up just to watch him go. Few people she had ever met could take part in a war of words with more style and vigor than that Italian. His wit was as quick as lighting and sharper than a well-kept razor. Of all the cops she had tangled with over the years, Vecchio was by far her favorite sparring partner. If the truth be told, she thought he enjoyed their exchanges as much as she did. And if she needed more than that to look forward to the detective's presence, as a bonus one could always be sure that wherever Vecchio went, a certain Canadian was sure to follow. Besides being the sweetest piece of eye candy the world had yet to produce, he had a charming habit of blushing bright red whenever the merest hint of sexual innuendo was thrown his way. So, of course, Sandy flirted with him mercilessly every chance she got. She had set a personal goal to someday see him turn the exact shade of his dress uniform. Not a lofty ambition perhaps but one that suited her just fine.
So, although sitting in a damp cellar, scribbling in ledgers and stamping numbers on everything in sight was not exactly what she had pictured when she joined the force, all things considered, the Queen of the Cage was pretty happy with her lot. Her job was interesting, challenging and best of all, she was damn good at it and that, she suspected, was more than most the real royalty of this world could say.
Hi. I'm Linda...
and I'm a sketch-artist for the 27th Precinct in Chicago. I work on a free-lance basis and usually get calls for whenever a witness is unwilling or unable to come into the station, although in the last few years I've spent quite a few hours there helping Elaine to enhance and expand the identification composite computer program. It's fun work and I really enjoy it.
Most of the detectives there are a pretty cool bunch and I can show up for 'work' in casual clothes, jeans and whatever, which is fortunate as I hate to get dressed up for anything. I've come to know everybody in the detective division pretty well and have sketched all of them at one time or another while I was there. I like horsing around with them and have noticed, on occasion, that even a simple caricature left on their desk can ease the tension of a particularly hectic day.
I remember one such day not long ago when I left a 'self-portrait' of myself pinned to the bulletin board in the squad room. Needless to say that it cracked everybody up when they realized it bore a striking resemblance to Jaclyn Smith instead of me. Actually I'm 5'4", with very short dark brown hair. Lately I've gone to 'natural light golden brown' (at least that's what the box of 'Nice N Easy' says). I have blue-grey eyes and at about 125 pounds am about 7 pounds heavier than I'd like to be. But I love to eat and only go on a crash diet about every two years.
I carry my sketch book around with me most places and enjoy drawing faces of people I see. One of the most interesting, and as of late has taken up a good portion of my tablet, is Detective Ray Vecchio. He has such interesting features and a true study in contrast. I really like sketching him and do it often when he's not looking. Several pages of my book is taken up with just his eyes alone. He pretends he doesn't like me doing that, but I know he does. We trade jokes and enjoy making each other laugh.
By far the most difficult subject lately, though, has been the Mountie, who has become quite a fixture around the squad room. He hasn't been as easy to get to know as the rest of the fellas, although he's very polite and friendly. I've tried drawing him several times but his features are so even that he's extremely difficult to capture. He has a rare beauty not often found in real life, especially in men around the Chicago area let me tell you, and I think only someone like DaVinci or Michaelangelo could really do the man justice. I'd love to try and do a nude of him sometime. But between me and you, I don't think the man even gets naked to take a bath. But of course I could be wrong. We've talked a few times about the advanced art classes he's taking. He's a very talented artist and sometimes even gives me pointers on technique.
I did a nude of Ray once not long ago, not to his knowledge of course, and there is an officer at the station house who heard me talking about it with Elaine. I told the officer that I would trade it for a few pieces of origami. I think she has a secret crush on him, not that I blame her. He's a great guy. The Mountie too. In fact I think those two are my favorite people there. I could just sit and watch their interaction for hours.
Well, gotta go, I think that's my phone. Probably another call from Welsh for a suspect work-up. Hope it's one of Ray's cases. That way I know both he and Big Red'll be there with the witness. Yep, it's my lucky night. It's a Vecchio case. Homicide down on Roosevelt. I'll just grab my pad and pencil, and I'm outta here....
Amanda Dannehl...
my family and I haven't been in the Chicago very long. We moved up here so my husband, a mental health counselor, could accept a position at Joliet. John and I have a teen-aged daughter, Michelle, whose stated goals in life are to become either a forensic psychiatrist or a banker, and to kick her dad's butt free-sparring (she's a black belt in tae kwon do, he's a purple belt and worried).
For a while I was a librarian at a Catholic girls' school. While I became pretty good friends with the principal, Sister Anne, I had to leave because of the pay and the fact that it just got too weird there. I mean, gun shots in the night and this tall substitute art teacher who turned out to be a Canadian Mountie in drag... The drag part doesn't bother me (the photos I could show you of one of my mom's older brothers!) but a *Mountie* in drag? Bad craziness.
Now I work for the Chicago PD as a library media specialist, trying to automate their records system. The top brass thinks that with the computer programs, it'll be a breeze. Considering the fact that the CPD has decades and decades of old log books, case files and the like, I know I have job security until the next century. When asked about progress, I put on my most sincere expression, pull my bifocals down on my long librarian's nose, look them straight in the eyes and tell them that while progress is being made, I am not satisfied with how long it is taking. Then, with great enthusiasm, I offer to show them the May, 1913, duty rosters or the 1927 average daily food rations for prisoners. They smile, congratulate and commend me on progress accomplished, look at their watches, recall urgent meetings and get the hell away from me as soon as they can. It works every time. Monons.
Maybe they're not all idiots; there's been a person from IA hanging around a lot lately. Caught her trying to check my computer once when I came back from a break. My screen-saver password, "fuckoff," stumped her. She claimed to have been simply trying to check her e-mail. Sure, Pete. And pigs fly.
Speak of the devil...I’ve been working at the 27th lately, and who should I see but my cross-dressing Mountie -- and a wolf! The Mountie has a buddy at the precinct that he visits and works with, a Detective Vic? Vec?-something. I never can remember names. God, talk about a gorgeous guy! That body and those *eyes*...green is my favorite color. The Big Red Guy's annoyed the hell out of me, though. When he found out I was a librarian, he came down to my grotto to visit. Seems his grandparents were traveling librarians (?) and he wanted to exchange viewpoints on the Dewey Decimal system verses the Library of Congress. I’d just had a run-in with both the upper echelons and Sneaky Pete and was not in a wonderful mood so I told him I really didn't give a rat's ass either way and that probably no one else except the anal-retentive did either. He got a little huffy and left. Now if it had been Detective Gorgeous... Good thing I’ll be finished at the 27th soon. Besides, I’m a happily married, short, stocky middle-aged librarian with dyed red hair, an expensive teenager and less social skills than the Mountie's wolf. Yep, *real* good thing.
Gotta go now. John and Michelle are off at some tae kwon do tournament for the weekend, and I have to see a realtor about a house she said was just perfect for us. It's an older house, with a nice yard, near a big family with a lot of kids. Michelle loves kids; maybe she can get some sitting jobs with the neighbors. Sherrie (the realtor) said I can't miss it, it's right by a beautiful old Victorian style house with a green Buick Riviera parked out front.
I'm Rochon Perry...
I'm the Director of Media Relations for the Chicago Police Department. In the normal scheme of things, my job is pretty hectic. However, I don't think any amount of preparedness could have gotten me ready for the onslaught that is Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Ever since he 'came to Chicago on the trail of my father's killers and remained for reasons not important at this juncture' (thank you kindly, Constable, I know the drill) and teamed up with Detective Raymond P. Vecchio, my life has been a living hell.
No, make that IS a living hell. I used to actually have a life, however, now, at any given moment day or night, I expect my phone to ring. I was feeling like Sisyphus -- you know, the king who had to push the rock up the hill and every time he'd get to the top, it would roll back down, and he had to start again. Anyway, I now seem to spend the majority of my time down at the 27th precinct. In fact, I spend so much time down there I had to put in a requisition for an office of my own. Yes, well, they tried to give me some madness about the budget, but I said 'Hey'! I don't want nor need the drama. Sign my requisition slip. Don't make me pull out my book.' (Humph! Ray Vecchio is not the only one with a black book full of interesting tidbits. Mess with me, will they?)
Anyway…where was I? Oh yes, making a left at the sign of the juggernaut. Do you know how hard it is to change things from "sniffed dog wizz" to 'using alternative and evolving police techniques'? And then the Chinatown incident with the FBI (Fat Bunch of Incompetents if you ask me, especially that Agent Ford. To quote Bugs Bunny, what a maroon!) The fireworks were pretty, though and it was with the greatest of pleasure that I put all the blame squarely in the lap of my MR counterpart with the FBI.
About that time, I figured I'd take my girl Elaine out after work and get the lay of the land. And nothing beats a martini from Blondie's for loosening tongues and those stuffed olives…but I digress. We talked so long we ended up at the Pump Room for dinner. She told me everything she knew which as I found out, since she works more closely with Vecchio than anyone else in the squad room does, she overhears most of the stuff they talk about. We got pretty in depth and I got a handle on the "Vecchio/Fraser team'.
Then we did some girl talk, but that's not important at this juncture. (Gads, listen to me, will you?) I will say 'Big hands, big feet, big nose and sharp as a barrel full of needles, but as I said, it was girl talk.
Anyway, things were going fine, I was becoming quite inventive at turning a phrase to suit the situation, and in actuality it was fun, I was beginning to think of Fraser as some kind of Indian Scout tracking someone over the pass to solve the crime (trés cool), until two ghastly incidents. One, the Victoria Metcalf affair had so many twists and turns I thought I was walking in a field booby trapped with horse business. I had a devil of a time keeping that out of the press, but I put my head together with Lt. Welch's and we came up with a strategy.
The other was the Louis Gardino/Irene Zuko incident. Too much tension, too many emotions and people hurting each other right and left…and that was just the Gardino episode. The Irene Zuko part was strictly out of left field. Because of her brother's business and his and Vecchio's past involvement, (yes, I knew about the beatings), the Irene Zuko death was a hot button. I was glad I was able to pull the Constable aside and show him how to get Vecchio out of there before the media sharks ate him.
Professionally, even though they solve cases; Vecchio's arrest record is as shiny as it was before he had the personal drama and Fraser fell from the Canadian sky; Fraser gets to be a hands on policeman instead of a glorified file clerk and office manager; they and the situations they get into work the root of my last nerve. Despite all this, I really like them and having to deal with the 'incidents' has helped me sharpen my media skills.
Personally, sometimes they both seemed so sad and alone and lonely that I wanted to send them to my Aunt Vina's house. She gives you big hugs, big quilts, puts you on the big overstuffed couch, lights a big fire in the fireplace and doles out the best hot chocolate in the universe…and keeps it coming until you feel better. Lately, though it seems as if their friendship is stronger because of all the different crises.
And then, there's Dief. When he's at the precinct who else's desk is he spending time under if not Elaine's? I mean, really, who do you think is feeding him all that junk food? Who started him on the Milk Duds? Who told him he should get with Maggie?
Well, yes, now YOU know, but hey, mum's the word.
Melanie Mitchell...
has been a crime-beat reporter for the Chicago Sun-Times for six years. She paid her dues on the graveyard shift for the first five years, spending her nights running from homicide to homicide, with only the occasional bar fight or domestic murder/suicide providing any variety. She struggled every night to find a new angle, a fresh perspective, a different way to say, "The motive appears to be drug-related; the police do not have any suspects." On a slow news day her stories made it onto page 3 or 4; other times they ended up in the circular file. A drug-related homicide just wasn't "news" in Chicago.
That changed a year ago. She answered the phone one evening and landed a double attempted murder--which would have been unremarkable except that the almost-victims were a City Alderman and an Assistant State's Attorney. She dogged that story until it blossomed into a rollicking tale of conspiracy and corruption (with a nice sidebar of heartbreak); she fought off her colleagues who would have happily relieved her of the need to follow up on a story while the sun was up, and landed her by-line on the front page 4 days in a row.
Now she's on the day shift, and looking forward to actually having a life. She joined a women's chorus, and she's thinking about adopting a rabbit to keep her company in her high-rise studio apartment. Spending her days in the sunshine has improved her outlook and her complexion; she's starting to get noticed, which is a new and somewhat daunting experience for her. She often describes herself as having an appearance that was made for print journalism; of average height, she can convince herself on a good day that she is "stocky"; when she's being honest with herself she's just "fat." Her best features are her large, expressive brown eyes. She spends as little time in front of a mirror as possible, keeping her short brown hair in a wash, shake & wear style and skipping makeup altogether.
She has long since gotten used to being dissed, avoided and ignored by the cops. Theirs is an uneasy relationship, and she knows that a reporter is usually an unwelcome nuisance in their line of work. She earns their tolerance by sticking to the rules, which means *not* reporting some of the most interesting details about crimes--details that will be used to trip up suspects during questioning. Like many crime-beat reporters in Chicago, she knows that Detective Vecchio isn't really Detective Vecchio, and she secretly hopes that when the story can be told she'll be the one who gets to tell it. In that hope, she is carefully developing the voluble Francesca Vecchio into an excellent source, an activity that is paying dividends every day. Not only is she a wealth of reliable information, she's also cute as a button--it's a pity she's straight.
Melanie is one of a handful of people who know that Frannie wants to become a cop; she's encouraging her friend in that endeavor and she's already pre-sold the story of one woman's journey through the Police Academy to her editor at the Sun-Times as a multi-part human interest series. Now she just has to tell Frannie. . . .
CJ Larsen, R.N...
changes an IV bag in the room of one her patients She feels guilty because she hopes that this patient's recovery takes a while. It isn't that she dislikes the patient; the reverse is true. She has been thinking unprofessional thought about this man since he was admitted. She has only been working as a nurse at this hospital for a few months, and wonders if her coworkers ever fantasize about the people in their care. She certainly never has - until this one.
The man has been unfailingly polite and kind to her, for which she is grateful. Though she is not unattractive, she hasn't had the energy or interest to think of men as, well....men for a long while. Her studies and her two little boys have taken up all of her time and emotional energy, and the divorce left her with a shaky self-image. So work has been her salvation. But this man...She can't get him out of her head.
He has several friends who visit regularly and one in particular she teases when his sense of drama gets the better of him. This friend has the same dry sense of humor that she has, and has seen that the patient enjoys their good-natured banter. The man welcomes his friends and talks with them, and of course, is polite and well-mannered; but there seems to be a distance and sadness about him. CJ was delighted when he began to tell her stories about the Inuit when she was checking his meds. CJ's academic background - before nursing, was in religion and myths, and she enjoyed comparing "wise men" stories and "the hero's quest" myths that comprise the richness of so many cultures. It was the only time she had seen the man become animated since his admission to the hospital with a gunshot wound to the back.
CJ knows the man's wound will heal and he will leave. He is strong and independent and doesn't like being "fussed" over. She is not so sure that his sadness will heal as quickly. She will respect his privacy and will care for him to the best of her ability, but she hopes that he will find it easy to talk to her.
Philena Metcalfe...
... I'm 20 years old, 5 feet tall (or is that short), and currently attending college. I have dark wavy brown hair that reaches past my waist, large brown eyes, and love my gymnastics. I've had an interesting youth to say the least. Most of the cops knew my name down at the precinct. You could say I was a regular visitor. Okay, so I was a clepto. I was picked up for shoplifting on countless occasions and probably would be in much worse trouble today if it weren't for one person, Ray Vecchio. He turned me around like no one else could. All the reprimands and fines and whatever, never got to me, but reverse psychology works wonders. Needless to say he got the better of me on more than one occasion and through time I began to consider him my friend. Through much encouragement, I finished high school and made it through a year of college.
During that time I had somehow become friends with his sister Frannie too. She's the best shopping buddy I've ever had (totally legit too I swear!). I still talk to Ray when I get the chance, but lately I've been busy helping kids in a similar situation to what mine was and various community projects. During one "fix-up job" I met a very unique man, Constable Benton Fraser RCMP. All I could think was WOW. I obviously wasn't alone in this sentiment. He was one of the most interesting, polite individuals I have ever met. His apartment isn't far from where I grew up either. I think with his natural talent for getting people to work together we can really clean this neighborhood up! He calls me Philena and tends to steer clear of my last name for some reason. He's still mostly a mystery to me, but that may change. What really blew me away is when I found out he and Ray are best friends. I guess it really is a small world.
Shane Jackson....
I work near the 27th for a private investigator. And I'm also a bit of a psychic. Nothing major, but I do have the ability to sense and, usually, contact spirits. You might think that's an odd part-time job for a 19 year old graphic arts student at the tech college, but it's great. The boss pays great, the hours aren’t too bad, and I love the work.
I'm nothing major to look at, at least in this life! My boyfriend would tell me otherwise, but hey. I'm about 5'3", wear my light brown hair almost to my waist, and my bangs are always permanently lodged in my blue eyes. And I'm always followed around by two spirits who act as bodyguards against the not-so-nice ghosts I occasionally run into.
I first met the Mountie a few months ago. He and Ray Vecchio wandered in looking for my boss. He was, of course, at lunch. He's always at lunch. But anyway. I noticed Ben had a ghost trailing after him and asked him about it. Boy, did I surprise the three of them! After they calmed down a bit, I asked what they needed. And they explained the case they were working on. Seemed to be a basic missing persons case to me, but I'm not a professional. I offered to help, they said yes, and we found the kid the next day.
And that was the beginning of my "career" with the 27th. I'm now a semi-formal consultant to the department. I've worked with Ben and Ray several times, mostly on missing persons. They are both great, absolute angels. Ben's father took some getting used to though. He still pops up now and then, but he's trying to give ME advice now too!
So if you ever wander into the 27th and spot the short, young- looking girl talking amiably with a few detectives, that's me. Come on over and say hi!
Kali Sandison...
... is a psychologist with the Chicago Police Department. Her latest rotation has her splitting her time between the 27th and 23rd Precincts. Though most law enforcement officers have an inherent distrust of "head shrinkers" she has mostly won them over with her bawdy sense of humor and refusal to take herself too seriously. She is also popular because of her use of animals as part of her practice. She knows that people will open up and talk to a dog or a cat when they won't talk to another human being.
In her free time she likes to take her Labrador Retriever, Mavi and her Flat Coated Retriever, Jester to Grant Park and let them play. Constable Fraser and Diefenbaker have accompanied her on many of these trips and Detective Vecchio has been known to tag along as well. Her husband doesn't worry about too much about her being out with these guys because he knows she's usually more comfortable with men than with other women. However, he has wondered occasionally what would happen if she were ever alone with the detective. But mostly he's very secure in the knowledge that she'll always come home to him because she loved from afar for nearly ten years before they even started dating. He also knows that most men aren't smart enough to look past the two hundred plus pounds on her five foot, six inch frame to see the beautiful woman he knows and loves.
Kali loves her work, she's always had a strong desire to help people and her intuitive skills make her a natural for it. Occasionally, her supervisors have told her that she needs to quit being so blunt with the people she works with and pick up a little tact. But she prefers to call a spade a spade and if necessary will call it a g** d*** shovel. One day she hopes to take pet assisted therapy into a clinical setting but for now is very happy working with the C.P.D. and doing volunteer work at local hospitals.
Captain Misha Sumra...
(known to his friends as 'Einstein') was a former employee of the United Kingdom's Ministry of Defense, and was heavily involved in the development of new types of explosives. One tragic day, during a routine test of his latest device, something went wrong and several people were killed. Overcome with remorse, he quit the MoD, and in attempt to redeem himself, he joined the Metropolitan Police's Bomb Disposal squad, where his unique knowledge of explosives enabled him to distinguish himself in this field.
It was during one of his missions that he met his future wife Emily, an Englishwoman born and raised in Chicago, who had returned to England complete an advanced qualification as a physiotherapist . They fell in love, and were married shortly afterwards, and continued living in England until Emily's course ended, and she wanted to move back to Chicago. Misha was apprehensive until one of his former co-workers from the MoD called, and mentioned that he'd got wind of a new military- backed bomb-disposal team that was being formed in Chicago. Misha applied, and with some help from his MoD and Bomb Squad contacts, he secured a high-ranking position in this new team, pending his relocation to Chicago, which Emily was delighted about.
Misha's team began operating in Chicago and the rest of the state, building a solid reputation for themselves, but they quickly discovered that the great majority of Chicago's bomb incidents occurred in the jurisdictional area of the 27th Precinct. As a result, Misha found himself in regular contact with the various characters who constituted the 27th Precinct's police force, such as Officer LaDroit (who presented him with an origami firebomb after his first mission on 27th Precinct territory), Lieutenant Welsh (always pronounced 'Leftenant' by Misha) and Detective Ray Vecchio, who always seemed to be right in the middle of whatever situation was about to happen. When an RCMP constable named Fraser was assigned to partner Ray, Misha decided to take the Mountie to one side and teach him a few bomb-disposal tricks, in the hope that he could save his team some hassle here and there by letting Fraser get Ray out of trouble.
Misha still operates out of Chicago with his team, and is in regular contact with his friends at the 27th Precinct. He and Emily have three children; Paul, David and Ramona.
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