21 Jump Street | 𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞 (Tom Hanson x OC)

𝟽. 𝙴𝚇𝙿𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳

- 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟺 𝟷𝟿𝟾𝟾 -
- 𝙼𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚜, 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎 -
-𝙳𝚘𝚞𝚐 𝙿𝚎𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕'𝚜 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 -
- 𝟻:𝟹𝟶 𝙰𝙼 -

"HEY," DOUG GREETED as he ushered Tom into his garage. "I'd let you in the house, but Dorothy'd rip my head off if I let anyone see her before she got all dolled up," he yawned, only half joking as he shut the garage door.

"Good thing you don't have that problem," Tom scoffed as his eyes trailed over Doug. There he stood in all his glory, wearing a powder blue set of pajamas with baseballs printed all over his brawny, 6 '1 frame. "Pretty sure I had that same set when I was 10,"

"Yeah, yeah, at least I don't look like I just came from planet zomboid," Doug snorted. Tom looked rough. Heavy shadows stained his under eyes and the dark, rough stubble growing along his sharp jawline made him look even worse for wear. "Rough night?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Tom scratched at his stubbly chin as he recalled the events of last night. It was clear to everyone in that station that those boys were guilty of a lot— but Tracy Edwards wasn't one of them. They'd grilled those kids six ways to Sunday and still came up with nothing to connect them to the assault. Tom had gone home that with seeds of anxiety sprouting in his chest. He tried to sleep it off, but every time he shut his eyes, all he could picture was Booker's smug face illuminated by the cross on burning on Tracy's yard.

"You get that stuff for me?" Tom cut right to the chase. This wasn't a social visit.

"Yeah! Yeah, I did," Doug assured him, but Tom didn't miss the way his eyes shied away when he answered. "You know Booker went to the academy the same year you did? And—er, uh... Richards only finished up last year." Tom merely stared at Doug after he spewed that useless little tidbit, making the larger officer squirm beneath his judgmental gaze. 

"Find anything useful?" Tom reiterated, hoping to get better answers out of Doug this time around.

"... Nothing too interesting," Doug shrugged. "She grew up on the south side, she worked down in the Bible Belt... she's clean,"

"That all?" Tom asked once more.

"Yeah, squeaky clean. Nothing to worry about..."

Tom wasn't worried about her to begin with.

"What about Booker, Doug?" Tom asked outright when Doug failed to get the hint.

"Oh, him," Doug hesitated, sitting down at his workbench. "He, uh, bounced around a couple divisions. Just some minor disciplinary problems..."

"Yeah, he's got some problems alright... I think he raped Tracy Edwards." An icy silence filled the air as those words fell from Tom's lips. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy, words lingering that they couldn't unhear. Doug gawked at Tom, his lips parting in stunned silence.

"... Geez, you are way off base," Doug chuckled uneasily, turning his back to Tom as he fixed his attention on his motorbike.

Tom gritted his teeth.

"I know I'm right," he persisted, irked by how easily Doug was dismissing him. "He's a racist!"

"You're on the wrong track, Tom," Doug sighed as he rifled through his toolbox. "You really need to get some sleep, man,"

"He's got a thing for black girls," Tom continued, repeating what Marty had suggested to him last night. "He's been hitting on Judy and Richards—"