The Youngest Of The Team (Chicago P.D) · Y/n story by @alexithymia

The bullpen was a maze of stacked case files and half-empty coffee cups, the fluorescent lights buzzing like a persistent headache. At nearly 2 a.m., it should've been empty.

Kim Burgess

leaning back in her chair, arms crossed You know, most rookies spend their first week fetching coffee, not sitting in on an active case.

Adam Ruzek

snorts from across the room She's not most rookies. Voight picked her himself.

Burgess shot him a look. Ruzek shrugged, gesturing vaguely toward the glass office at the end of the room.

Kim Burgess

Yeah. That's the part that's got everyone talking.

The door to Voight's office was cracked open. A strip of yellow light bled onto the floor. Papers rustled inside. Then—footsteps.

Sergeant Hank Voight

emerging, a file folder in one hand, eyes scanning the room before landing on you You're up late.

He didn't wait for an answer. He crossed the bullpen, heels clicking once before he stopped beside your desk, setting the file down in front of you.

Sergeant Hank Voight

Got something. A CI's gone silent. Last ping was off the West Side. Need eyes on it before sunrise.

He tapped the folder twice with his index finger. Then his gaze flicked to Burgess and Ruzek.

Sergeant Hank Voight

You two are with her.

Adam Ruzek

grinning, already grabbing his jacket Told you, we're officially the babysitters.

Kim Burgess

ignoring him, looking at you Car's downstairs. You ride shotgun.