There are two police officers there - a young, dark skinned woman wearing a vividly teal headscarf, and a burly caucasian man with entirely too much facial hair.

”Hello!” says the bearded man. “We received a report about this property, we did, and we’re going to need to search the premises, if you don’t too much mind.”

”Or if you do,” says his tragically unbearded counterpart. “We have a warrant.”

”Now, now, Ferozah, you know what I’ve been telling you, you ought to have a little politeness, you should -“

“Would you stop trying to make the ‘good cop good cop’ thing happen, it’s never going to happen -“

”But you’re always so blunt about it all, and there’s never any harm in being nice! - I tell you and I tell you, Ferozah, a little courtesy never hurt anyone, not never -“

”You do it your way, I do it mine.”

”Bein’ matter a fact about the most delicate of subjects ain’t a way at all! It’s a sickness. People these days think that they can barrel around like a bull whenever they’re doing anything, and damn them if they aren’t mostly right, but when you tell someone that you think they have all sorts of illegal mind alterin’ medications and tinctures and such you can stand to -“

Ferozah coughs.

The bearded man pauses, suddenly, as if just now realizing that he has an audience.

“... anyways, we’re, ah, going to need to search the premises, we are,” he says. “No big fuss about it, just followin’ procedure.”

There's a lot to process there (cops were not really on the list of people she expected to knock on the door, even after adjusting for the fact that three months ago that list contained 1: the person who delivers their mail, and 2: literally no one else) and she's pretty grateful their conversation gave her some time to do it in.  "Uh, okay.  - Can I see the warrant?"  She has absolutely no idea what one's supposed to do in this situation, but that seems like it could be a not-terrible - maybe even a reasonable - first step?

“No,” deadpans Ferozah, taking out the search warrant and waving it in Ari’s general direction. Her partner pouts at her.

Normally she would be pretty sure that was a joke and just grab it anyway, but given the choice between almost certainly looking socially oblivious and a tiny chance of seeming dangerously insubordinate, she'll take the former, thanks.  She makes no move towards taking it.

"Oh."

The burly beaded man grabs the warrant out of his partner’s hand, and hands it to Ari with a formal gesture.

”Ferozah has a mischievous streak, she does, no sense in denyin’ it - here you go, ma’am, ought to be all in proper order.”

"Thank you."

She has no clue what information is usually on these, but she's looking for anything indicating the warrant might be fake or invalid.  She's also hoping it might say what it is they'll be searching for - she thinks he mentioned drugs but there was a lot going on and confirmation would be nice - as well as the both of the cops' full names.

She might spend a little more time than is strictly necessary looking it over to stall until Jaime and Hana get there, depending on how long they take.

The warrant seems perfectly valid in all particulars.

Jaime - presumably followed by Hana - arrives at the door. Jaime stares at the police officers placidly, and fiddles with a pen in her hand.

"Hey guys, these are officers Almasi and Gagnon, and uh, apparently someone thinks we have illegal drugs here, so they're going to be checking for those.  Officers, these are Jaime and Hana, who also live here."

“Hello,” says Jaime.

”Ciao,” says Ferozah. She doesn’t comment on the fangs; she does cross her arms. “So. Everyone else is going to step away from the doorway, and we’re going to step inside. Now.”

”If you nice folks wouldn’t too much mind, a’course,” says her partner apologetically.

"Of course! We're so sorry for keeping you out in the cold for so long," Hana says, opening the closed half of the double door all the way and gesturing for Ari to do the same on her side.  The resulting space is, she hopes, wide enough to clearly signal that they don't have any intention of, she doesn't know, attacking them or something, because she isn't about to not hold the door for people she's inviting into her house.  "Can I get either of you anything to drink?"

Jaime stands out of the way.

“I don’t hook up with people I meet at work,” says Ferozah, stepping through. Her partner follows her.

They close the doors behind them.  "I...confess I'm not sure I see how that's related."  (Ari hides a snrrk under what is plausibly a sniffle from the change in temperature.)  To her partner: "We have water, of course, and hot chocolate and coffee and lots of teas.  Would you like me to take your coats?"

Ferozah and Jaime both give her the exact same kind of unimpressed look at the exact same time, glance at each other, and abruptly look away. Ferozah flips her off, and prowls off into a randomly selected hallway, periodically opening cabinets and knocking on walls and sniffing suspiciously.

”... I’d love me a cup of green tea, I would,” says her bearded partner, lamely, handing her his coat.

Hana doesn't visibly react to Ferozah and Jaime.  She hangs up the coat, gives a winning smile, and says, "I'll get right on that, then."  Ari doesn't follow her when she heads for the kitchen.

Officer Gagnon follows her into the kitchen, looking apologetic.

Jaime follows behind Ferozah; they glance at each other again, both looking away just as abruptly.

”Do I even have to ask who put you up to this,” asks Jaime.

”Yes, you do.”

”Mmhm.”

Hana busies herself with putting on the water and attempting to balance looking both charming and unapproachable.

The burlier of the two police officers stands there awkwardly.

Jaime continues following Ferozah around and engaging in the verbal equivalent of lesbian ping pong, until -

Ferozah breezes back into the room where Officer Gagnon is enjoying his tea and awkwardly attempting to make small talk; she has a bloody knife in her gloved hands, and a raised eyebrow.

”Little miss halloween party -“ she jerks her head in Jaime’s direction “- didn’t have a ready made answer for this. Either of you two have one? - Gagnon, for the love of god, stop playing teatime with the goddamn suspects.”

”There ain’t never any point in bein’ pointlessly rude!” huffs Gagnon, taking another sip of tea.

”Why couldn’t I have had a monkey for a partner, like in one of those buddy cop movies, they’d be more useful. And more intelligent. Anyways, random bloody knife, not actually a drug or what we’re here for, still pretty fucking suspicious when you’re associated with I-don’t-have-to-tell-you-her-name. Tell me all about it.”

Hana's voice is unusually high pitched, even for her.

"It's.  Um.  I like?  Blood?  And.  Um.  So does," she buries her face in her hands, "my girlfriend? But in the. The opposite direction from me."

(She seems pretty convincingly mortified to be saying this, possibly because she is in fact completely mortified to be saying that.)

Officer Gagnon makes a kind of incongruously high pitched squeak.

Ferozah raises her other eyebrow, for symmetry.

“... you‘re aware that you’re not actually supposed to draw blood when you’re doing knifeplay, right, that isn’t a thing. And I’m not seeing any fresh knife wounds here.”

Hana makes a keening noise into her palms.  "It.  Is too a thing.  Sometimes.  A little bit."  She looks up at the knife.  "I mean, you'll notice it's not very much blood.  And - the reason you don't see it is - is.  Because she's wearing clothes."

Ferozah tilts her head.

“And if I, I dunno, went down to the station and got a few quick blood type tests, you’re real confident that the blood on this knife and the blood in your girlfriend would match?”

"Yes?"

Ferozah gestures at the door, with the hand that isn’t holding a slightly bloody knife.

“Get your girlfriend in here.”

(Jaime sighs. Officer Gagnon looks mortified.)

Hana makes eye contact with Jaime, blinks, and looks back to Ferozah.

"....not...that one?  - I can also go grab Ari if you need her for something.  Else."

Ferozah sure is finding this whole story less believable by the minute.

“You two an item?” she asks.

”It’s complicated.”

“I don’t buy that you don’t know enough about basic BDSM safety to do this kind of thing.”

“It’s complicated.”

”Complicated enough that you don’t want to pull up your sleeve or wherever to show me the bandage? Consent doesn’t make people except from assault laws, I could still bring everyone in if I wanted to.”

”- Ferozah, you aren’t this much of an idiot. We both know that you’re here because Alexandra has pull on you. We both know that she either planted drugs here for you to find, or she wanted you to serve as a distraction, or she wanted to distract you from something happening elsewhere. You don’t know what’s going on here. I do. You aren’t helping.”

Ferozah puts the knife on the side of the sink, and storms off to continue searching the house, muttering under her breath about crazy people and fucking misconduct reports and cosplaying disaster tops.