It's not booze, but it'll have to do (open)

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

I stepped into the B&G, giving the door guards a gruff eyeing as I passed through the threshold. Inside, I fished around in my jacket pocket, until I retrieved a weathered-looking cigar. I found a table with some relative peace & quiet, and took a seat, striking a match on its undersurface, and using it to light up. Once the tip of the cigar was glowing with red embers, I snuffed the light on the match, setting it head-down on the table. Once the nearest waittress approached, I made my order. The usual.

"Caf. Black."

She let me be, running off to get me a cup. For now, I was off duty. The blissfully awkward moment in a cop's life full of ennui and introspection on the ups and downs of yesterday. I took it as best as I could, with a wan smirk on my face, and dark circles under my eyes.

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

“Hello, Zemil.”

Either the voice that had spoken would make the Watch Commander smile, or want to leave immediately. Dirka Burckharf stood just by her superiors table and reminded herself that, at this time, they were equals as they were off duty. She looked surprisingly presentable out of uniform, with her hair down out of its usual braid or bun.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

I shook my head wearily, gesturing across from me.

"Free seat, Dirka."

Considering his subordinate's rather button-down reputation, it was interesting to see her in such a situation.

"First time I've seen you in non-regulation."

It showed. The way she held herself, it was like her skin crawled unless it was in heavily-starched cotton. Some cops were like that. I relied on that. There was no such thing as a uniform police force. I needed by-the-book sticklers like Dirka every bit as much as Nobbei's unorthodox behavior.

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

She sat and strained a smile.

“I don’t get out much.”

To any normal young woman, this would have been like admitting murder, but she wasn’t the type to do things normally – such as going out, having friends, or generally leading a healthy lifestyle. Work was everything to her, but she reasoned that as Vymes was technically a part of this work, it wasn’t wrong to socialize with him.

“Do you come here often, Comm-- Zemil? I thought this was a Jedi bar.”

Lack of actual experience had been replaced by watching a few holo-flicks.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Well, I appreciate the effort."

It was credit where credit was due. Dirka was never late, never took a day off, and pretty much crossed every t and dotted every i in the code of conduct. It was her thing...and it helped to keep the rest of the apes in line...or at least prod them with a stick when they strayed too far. I didn't share the same draconian sense of order that she did, but I did appreciate the different angle.

"It's on my beat, so I make it a point to stop by on occasion."

Which was a lie. I winced, and fessed up.

"Er...its the only decent cup of caf I can find. Tastes like something between burnt toast and cigarette butts, like Nobbei makes at precinct."

Of course, my definition of "decent" was hard-edge against any sane person's imaginings, but it was my way, dammit. I might be society's walking contradiction, but at least it made me feel alive. The permanent nagging feel of five o'clock shadow creeping onto my face, the feel of a properly-crumpled cigar, runny eggs, and terrible coffee. It was my edge....the sliver underneath my skin that hurt just enough to keep me from being complacent.

"Eh, the Jedi. So long as they keep the caf coming."

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

Dirka gave the coffee cup and incredulous glance. She’d never been one to drink the stuff, but imagined they she probably got a daily caffeine intake from smell alone at the Watch house – it was as though the machines ran none stop.

“I see. I don’t trust them.”

Regardless of the fact that a Padawan was probably sat right behind her, she didn’t have much aversion to bad-mouthing the Jedi. They rarely did anything helpful and usually only made situations more difficult, in her (valuable) opinion. Law should be left to the Watch, not to a bunch of drugged-up pacifists.

“If I may be so bold, sir, is everything alright? You look a little worse for wear … more so than usual.”

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"You're a cop. You aren't supposed to trust anybody."

Or at least that's the way I always figured. Of course, the side effects were all-penetrating cynicism, but that went just fine with the coffee.

"You think about it. The green, tentacled, red-eyed alien is probably the one that delivers your mail, and the smiling, blonde-haired guy in the robe becomes the next Palpatine. There isn't exactly a rhyme or reason to it, so I try to keep my eyes peeled."

At her question, I sighed, shrugging noncomittantly.

"Yeah, just one of those days, I guess."

I didn't exactly feel like offloading stories about my late wife to Dirka. I didn't feel like ripping the scars open, and she didn't seem quite the right audience anyway. No, that would always be my own very special, personal demon.

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

Dirka didn’t say anything, but it seemed like for Vymes, it was always one of those days. A waiteress approached to ask if a refill was needed and Dirka almost ordered a vodka and orange, before switching to an orange cordial for Zemil’s sake. For a short while, the two sat in silence.

“… I thinking of taking a vacation, Zemil.”

Immeadiately, she felt guilty. The Watch were like toddlers and she felt, too often, like the nanny watching over them. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she liked lording over them, but further back than that she would have preferred to not have to deal with the hassle.

“Or transferring to a different department. I don’t think the day watch and patrol suit my methods.”

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Well if anyone's deserved one..."

I could tell that it wasn't her first choice, but it had to be said.

"Transfer?"

This got my attention.

"Out of district, or to night watch?"

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

“Not out of the district, sir. I wouldn’t want to leave your command.”

She seemed to stiffen up, as though her slightly slouched posture had been freshly starched once more. She had reverted back to obedient subordinate mode.

“Perhaps I could have a temporary switch to the night shift. If that would be possible, of course. I don’t want to be a trouble, sir – I only want to make sure my abilities are being used to their full extent, and as far as I know that may include working with a … different department.”

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

Something was concerning me, and I couldn't put my finger on it, but it had definitely triggered my extra-sense perception....or what I called a cop's intuition, which was to question every trivial incongruency in the most cynical way possible.

"Dirka, level with me."

I leaned forward over my cup of caf, brow furrowing.

"Maybe I'm not seeing it, but your performance record is exemplary. You've only been here a few months, but you've put your elbow grease into the job, and I recognize that. What do you think you're not doing, or missing? I haven't posted evaluations yet, but lets be frank, if you're lacking in anything, it isn't much.

I don't have an issue against an evening force transfer, but I'd like to know why you don't feel like you're properly utilized."

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

Underneath Vymes gaze, she couldn’t help but feel awkward. She shifted about in her chair as she mentally drew up her answer, trying to make it sound decent.

“It’s a feeling I have, sir, and I have found through experience that these feelings should usually be listened to. I can’t tell you exactly why, because I’m not entirely sure myself.”

She paused, cradled her chin in her palm and sighed, looking down into her almost untouched drink.

“… Are you buying any of this?”

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

I arched an eyebrow, but otherwise my expression was blank.

"What do you think?"

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

“No.”

Dirka frowned, “I’m not very good at lying.”

It was one of her key flaws, or perhaps key strengths. It all depended on the situation.

“I need a change, sir. Just for a couple of months. The people who I am currently working with, I have developed a negative relationship with and I feel it is detrimental to the smooth running of the Watch.”

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"If that's what you want."

I left it at that, sipping my bitter coffee. If there was anything else she wanted to get off her chest, she now had the opportunity in the long silence that followed.