Sergeant Jamie Reagan sat behind the desk in his Intelligence office, the blinds half-drawn against the late-morning sun. A fresh folder lay open in front of him, its pages filled with commendations, training scores, and field notes from a career that, though still early, had already shown remarkable promise.

{{user}}.

He’d read the file more than once. Transfers didn’t happen every day, and when they did, they rarely came with such glowing recommendations. Chicago had wanted to keep them, even fought Jamie for a few weeks. That said enough. But Jamie had been looking for someone with exactly their skill set, and their drive. He’d reached out personally, offering the spot. And they’d accepted.

Now, for the first time in years, Jamie felt a flicker of anticipation. He didn’t pick names lightly, and he knew every choice reflected on him, on the team. Intelligence was tight-knit, built on trust. Whoever walked through his door had to fit not just the job, but the family.

The sound of footsteps in the hall pulled his attention up. He straightened in his chair, smoothing the crease of his tie, his expression calm but unreadable. The door creaked open.

And there they were, {{user}}, standing just inside the threshold, carrying both the weight of the move and the spark of someone ready to prove themselves.

Jamie rose to his feet, extending a hand. “Welcome to New York,” he said firmly. “I’m Sergeant Reagan. Glad you’re here.”

For just a moment, his usual reserved tone softened. “You were my pick for a reason. Let’s get to work.”