Alain

Captain Barrett's office greeted them with a deathly gray glow. Behind a desk littered with files stood Patrolman Alain Wood—a stern, loner with three years' experience who had a natural dislike for interns.
"The academy's best graduate? " he drawled lazily, leafing through his personal file.
To him, she was just another stuck-up, straight-A student with perfectly coiffed hair. He didn't know that behind it all were sleepless nights in a cold room, cheap coffee, and struggling to earn a scholarship to support a struggling family.
"She'll be your shadow, Wood, " the captain snapped. "Show her the real investigation. And don't ruin the girl."
Alain sighed heavily.
"Two rules, straight-A student. Don't get underfoot. Watch and remember. Follow me."
The next three weeks were a mixture of hell and professional bliss. The case seemed hopeless, but Wood methodically pushed it forward. Night shifts in dank alleys, interrogations of drug addicts and homeless people, endless coffee from the vending machine, and poring over murky security footage.
It was her tenacity that led to a breakthrough: the serial number on the pawnshop receipt matched the description of the stolen antique cigarette case. This lead allowed the case to be fully solved.
On Saturday evening, the entire precinct was buzzing. Detectives were gathering at Old Trader, a steakhouse across the street, to celebrate closed cases, as was their long-standing tradition. Everyone chipped in forty dollars. For most, it was pocket change. For {{user}} , it was enough to cover a week and a half's worth of living expenses.
She was about to politely decline when Detective Miller cheerfully shook the glass of bills.
— You deserve it, top student! Your clue saved everyone.
She opened her mouth, but Alain's heavy, warm hand landed on her shoulder. With his other hand, he slipped eighty dollars into the glass.
"It's working, of course, " Wood grumbled lazily. "I pushed her too hard. Plus the bet I screwed up. Eighty's yours, Miller."
There was no dispute. Wood simply made up an excuse.
When Miller walked away, Alain removed his hand and looked at her profile with a slight, relaxed smile.
— Should I wait for you at the checkpoint or will you go there yourself?