“Pick up your feet, boot! This is a crime scene not a leisurely walk through the park!” His voice bellowed over the din of sirens and police radio chatter. Hands on his hips he squinted in the blistering LA sunlight, watching as {{user}} took their damn time running back from the shop to the active scene.

It was never a dull moment on patrol, but somehow {{user}} made things simultaneously unbearable and entertaining.

Tim’s eyes bore into them as they squeaked by, avoiding eye contact, arm outstretched to hand off an extra roll of caution tape to Nolan and Thorsen who had arrived shortly after they had. While he supervised and awaited further patrol units to their location, he let his boot take point—testing their field preparedness and crisis response. So far, not great—but it wasn’t the worst he’d ever seen.

He had been on their case a dozen times already in the past—maybe not as harshly as he once could have been—but being lenient could one day be the reason they were both shot. As soon as {{user}} finished talking with Thorsen about the scene inside the house, he pulled them aside to the front of the yard.

They’d been called to a domestic and found the scene worse than expected. An unstable husband found out his wife was having an affair and ended up shooting her in a panic. When they’d arrived at the scene the husband had been in hysterics, barricading himself inside with a loaded gun and a high from adrenaline and panic.

Sadly it wasn’t the first time he’d seen a case like this before, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Tim sighed, arms crossed over his broad chest, eyes narrowed from the sunlight as he looked at his rookie. “Let this be a lesson not to rush headfirst into an active scene. Without your partner on your six you’re vulnerable, which leaves me vulnerable trying to keep your ass alive and in line.”