<div class="floatleft">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/5ba850f132c71fadc4634900b7938fb5/tumblr_mre6nirF851rekg4oo1_1280.png)(http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2013/211/2/c/welcome_to_night_vale___sheriff_s_secret_police_by_xibxib-d6ftcmz.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"> The Artic is lit by the midnight sun. The surface of the Moon is lit by the face of the Earth. Our little town is lit too by lights just above that we cannot explain </span><br/><br/><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><br/>Welcome to Night Vale. </span></span></strong></div><br/><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;">It was going to be a long day. An even longer day than the day that kid from the south side of town tried to walk his dog in the dog park. You’d think a kid living on the south side of town would know not to walk his dog in the dog park. The giant electric fence around the dog park and the ominous hooded figures <em>in</em> the dog park should have made this obvious. As did the signs posted at the Ralph’s. But either the kid’s parent’s neglected his education and didn’t teach him to read - which was entirely possible. Just look at those PTA meetings. What a mess. That Susan Willmen…sheesh -   Or possibly the kid’s seeing eye dog was falling down on the job and led the kid astray. Thank goodness for the blue helicopters.<br/><br/>Jackson “Call me Jack” Jaxon reached up with one hand to message the back of his neck and sighed down at the little slip of paper the Sheriff had left him. At least Jack assumed the sheriff had left the little yellow slip of paper for him. Sometimes other “people” left him notes. But those usually weren’t as innocuous as this one. And sometimes they smelled like ozone. The post it in his hand simply stated:</span><div align="center">(http://i1007.photobucket.com/albums/af196/daisygirl1200/cooltext1664263103.gif)</div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;">Jack sighed again. Gustily. The ballpoint pen ink in the station was glowing again. He should probably tell Shelia to call Carlos down to take a look at it. That guy sure had perfect hair and what a scientist! Jack glanced at his watch and noted the time. 9:11. No time to talk to Shelia now. Besides, how likely was it that something grave and awful was happening that would cause mass casualties at the station just because the ballpoint pen ink was glowing again? It probably wouldn’t be like what happened last time… <br/><br/>He did a few quick mental calculations, dropping his partially drained coffee cup on the cluttered little desk he used when in the station. Jack barely noted the coffee that sloshed over the side of the cup and stained the piles of paper reports scattered under it. He could probably make the Moonlight by 9:18 if he used the lights and sirens. And didn’t run into anyone taking advantage of their stop sign immunity. There were only about 6 stop signs between the station and the diner so he’d probably be safe. <br/><br/>Snatching up his jacket from the back of the chair, Jack hurried out to his squad and took off. Barely 6 and a half minutes later he stepped up to the door and pulled it open, hardly a mishap marring his trip. Jack had worried for a second that he was going to have to mow down Old Woman Josie. But once he laid on the horn, she perked right up and started moving faster. He may or may not have noted angelic assistance.<br/><br/>Jack looked around the diner for his new Probie. Probational Officer sounded so…well it just took too long to say. There were the usual coffee seekers and breakfasters scattered around the booths and tables but no one that looked like a rookie. Jack did a 360 and noted someone standing in the parking lot looking a little green around the gills. Had he been there when Jack pulled in? His eyes squinted suspiciously.<br/><br/>A question for another time he decided, pushing back through the glass door and out into the lot. The kid - and it had to be a kid, didn’t look much over 18 - had his back turned. Hrmph. Just not good police work that. Having your back turned. Jack shook his head as he walked up behind the kid and tapped him on the shoulder.<br/><br/>“You the probie?” he asked as the kid startled high enough to almost get air time. Jack quirked one eyebrow at the reaction, taking in the pale features and street clothes. Where was this kid’s uni? It dawned on him after a couple of strained seconds –and it was only a couple of seconds because he was darn sharp for a cop – that the kid in front of him wasn’t a him. It was a she. The rookie was a <em>girl</em>? Not that he thought all cops should be guys. He was enlightened and all that jazz. Man of the world. Member of the Sheriff’s Secret Police. But a girl. Huh. <br/><br/>“You’re the probie.” He said again a little more firmly when she didn’t immediately answer, practically daring her to disagree with him. </span><br/>