One Year To Die (Flip Zimmerman x Reader Fic)

Chapter 2 - The Nine to Five

It wasn't every day that Detective Flip Zimmerman of the Colorado Springs Police Department found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Then again, it wasn't every day he found himself at a crappy bar on the outskirts of town drinking with members of the Klu Klux Klan.

Things had gotten heated when one of the chapter members, a drunk by the name of Ivan, had pulled his revolver and pointed it directly at Flip. Of course, it was in jest, but the asshole was so hammered he pulled the trigger. Chaos quickly ensued when a shot rang off, the bullet missing Detective Zimmerman's face by inches. If it wasn't for his instincts, and if it wasn't for the actions of the other members of the chapter, who quickly tackled the drunken Ivan before he could let off another shot, Flip would've been a dead man.

Ironic, he thought, that the KKK would save the life of a Jewish cop undercover in their organisation to gain intel on their inner workings on behalf of his partner, a black man.

It was almost as ironic as a lone female undercover detective working to hunt down a known womaniser, rapist and sexually motivated murderer. Almost.

But now that the end of the day, and the end of the year was upon them, Flip Zimmerman didn't care that it was New Years Eve; he didn't care that the majority of Colorado Springs was out celebrating; he didn't even care that he was so exhausted from work that his entire body was numb and his mind was fried.

All he wanted was a fucking drink.

After spending the best part of the night debriefing with Sergeant Trapp, both Flip and his partner Ron Stallworth were completely done, and their collective thirst for anything with a percentage was growing more and more by the second.

But as it was new years eve, Colorado Springs was alive with life. Every bar was open, packed with people and buzzing with the excitement. Flip didn't notice what direction Ron was taking him, but when he found himself stepping over the threshold of an unknown bar, he was immediately uneasy.

"Relax, man." Ron assured his partner as he hesitated by the door. "Patrice is here...somewhere." He smiled, trying to search through the crowds for his girl.

While the clan was taking over Ron's professional life, Patrice was taking over his personal life. For Ron, the company of dating a woman was enough to let him switch from cop to courtier, to let him finally relax and switch off.

Flip had no such reprieve, save for the bottle. Alcohol was the only thing that could turn his mind off. And he would drink half the bar just for silence in his head.

Sure, risking his life for a case was simply a part of the job - part of the nine to five package of being a police officer, being a detective. But he was still very human, and could still feel fear and anxiety and, especially now, exhaustion.

But that night made Flip realise that death could come for him in the line of duty at any time, especially when you least expected it. And Flip certainly didn't think, that was up until only a few hours ago, that he would die by a stray bullet from a drunken man in a disgusting confederate bar.

No, Flip Zimmerman wouldn't go out like that. Nah, he was a man that would live forever. And if he didn't, he'd die saving the president or rescuing his lover in a blaze of glory- not being point blank murdered by assholes like that.

Flip hated how deep everything was getting, how the entire investigation was making him question everything about himself. Sure, he was Jewish, but he wasn't raised to be. But now he was undercover there, he was surrounded by people that hated him, hated his friends, hated his family...it wasn't the first night Flip would want to drink to forget that his entire life he'd been passing, and it likely wouldn't be the last.