《My Boss's Baby》


 Dressed to Kill

    Madelynn Fisher was dressed to kill.


    Which was fitting, as she had felt rather murderous all evening. Her hair, a two toned affair of pink and purple, floated in a cloud like wisp around her head, much like cotton candy on a stick. Strappy black heels encased her small feet, matching the open back, short, slinky black dress she had bought just for tonight.


    Not that she was at her party. The noise of the club around her was a stark reminder of how she had failed. Even the pulsing music could not distract Madelynn from the empty feeling in her gut. She felt positively defeated, her iridescent blue wings drooping into her back.


    Idly, one finger traced itself around the rim of her glass - half empty, with melting ice. Her head lulled against the worn bar top, cradled in her other arm while she examined the coffee toned wall before her.


    She had taken the last stool in the row, as far from the other patrons that gathered around to see Selena and get their drinks. It was easy enough to ignore them all when she didn''t have to look at them. Besides, the few guys who had tried to talk to her weren''t exactly Casanovas. Following Diana''s old advice to work out her issues horizontally was not paying off.


    The thought left an icky taste in her mouth, and she turned to down the rest of her drink. As the precious liquid that would sear her throat touched her lips, she felt someone bump into her back.


    With a slosh, it came out over the rim onto her chin and the front of her dress. Immediately she felt her rage threaten to boil over as she slammed the cup down and turned to give the offender a piece of her mind.


    ¡°Hey, Buddy!¡± Madelynn snapped up at him. He glanced down at her through drunk-dulled eyes and his mouth curled into the poorest attempt at a seductive smirk she had ever seen. Frankly he looked like a fish fresh out of water as he leaned into the bar. His wide mouth was agape, even in his crooked smirk, and his eyes bulged unpleasantly.


    ¡°My, my¡­who do we have here?¡± He purred the words at her, and Madelynn felt the hair on her arms rise.


    ¡°Look here, asshole! You spilled my drink!¡± With one wide sweep of her arm, she gestured to her wet dress, and then to the cup the whiskey had come from.


    ¡°Ah, shit! I did! Let me buy you a new one, and you can give me your number as a thank you.¡± Clearly, he was hellbent on not giving up the flirtatious act.


    ¡°Look, I am not going to give you my-¡± Fish-Boy reached over, and put a finger right against her mouth.


    ¡°Shh, it¡¯s alright sweetheart. I got you. I know what every woman needs.¡± He winked at her, with his stinky finger so close to her nose, and she saw red.


    As he turned toward the bar again, motioning to Selena, Madelynn grabbed the front of his shirt. She yanked him down toward her height, ignoring the surprise then grin that spread across his face. It was short lived as her forehead cracked into his nose.


    He stumbled back with a wail as she let go of his shirt, and his friend caught him, looking between him and Madelynn. Fish-boy clutched his nose, and pointed a waving, trembling finger in her direction.


    ¡°I think you broke my nose!¡± He managed to squeak out at her. People had jumped backwards, watching the scene unfold. Selena came over, a lovely siren woman, and leaned towards Madelynn.


    ¡°Maddie, what did you do this time?¡± Her brow knitted together as Madelynn glared across at the guy.


    ¡°He started it! Couldn¡¯t even properly apologize. I was merely showing him how punchable his nose was.¡± Madelynn replied, her tone more icy than Arctic waters.


    ¡°With your face?¡± Madelynn knew Selena well, and while she did feel bad about starting a fight in her club, again, she was just so done with today. So she chose not to look into Selena¡¯s sea-blue eyes, and instead focused on Fish-Boy.


    ¡°Better your nose than your sorry excuse for a cock.¡± It gave her a grim satisfaction that his own friend chuckled at that.


    ¡°I-What?! No, don¡¯t listen to her!¡± Fish-Boy squawked out, as chuckles swept a bit through the crowd. Yanking away from his friend, he suddenly came toward Madelynn.


    The next bit happened as if in slow motion, his hand raising, as if to slap her. Madelynn would not blame him - she had hit him first. But a slap felt so¡­Anti-climatic. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Selena moved to get around the bar. She despised violence, afterall.


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    ¡°Are you seriously going to smack me? Here, I''ll let you get one in. Right there.¡± She patted her check, then Madelynn closed her eyes to brace herself for the smack. As soon as he struck, she would gut punch him, and the brawl would be on! But it didn¡¯t come. Cracking open one eye, she realized what had happened.


    Some dandy had inserted himself in her fight. He had quite literally grabbed Fish-Boy¡¯s wrist, and was holding him back from hitting her! His broad back was to her, long, deep red hair pulled into a high tail and Madelynn could easily spot his pointed ears. With no wings, he was definitely an elf. And he was probably hot too.


    ¡°Dude, let go! She started it!¡± Fish-Boy squirmed in his grasp, and the elf glanced over his shoulder at her. He had turned his head just enough that she knew he eyed her, and she caught a glimpse of gold.


    ¡°Oh, if that¡¯s the case, then by all means.¡± His hand released Fish-Boy¡¯s wrist, and he stepped out of the way. ¡°Hit her.¡±


    By now, Selena had made it from behind the bar, and she was shoving her way through the crowd. Fish-Boy hesitated, glancing at Madelynn, then at the dandy-handy elf. His lips pulled back into a sneer that showed off some surprisingly straight teeth.


    ¡°Not worth it.¡± He scoffed, and turned to walk away. His buddy followed, reassuring him that he would have hit the elf if he needed to. Fish-Boy told him to shut up.


    Madelynn felt a bit dumbstruck. She was not used to a stranger standing up for her, and certainly not when she had started it. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the elf, willing daggers to manifest in his back.


    ¡°Damn. Thank you for stepping in.¡± Selena nodded to the elf, then promptly turned back to the crowd. ¡°Hey, nothing to see here folks! Let¡¯s get back to partyiiiiing~!¡±


    ¡°My pleasure.¡± Turning, the elf sat down in the stool next to her. He didn¡¯t even look her way. Which was somehow worse.


    ¡°Hey, you. What¡¯s the big idea?¡± Madelynn propped herself up against the bar, leaning forward enough to get a good look at him.


    Oh no, he is hot.


    Madelynn could not help the thought. It popped so forcefully into her brain that she almost turned a brilliant crimson, and frankly, that would contrast too much with her cotton-candy colored hair.


    The man before her had to have been blessed, though everyone knew that Elves were generally attractive. Still, he had cat-like eyes, the color of molten gold, that seemed to shimmer in the dim light. His wide jaw was square, a perfect contrast with his sweeping cheekbones and straight nose. It was his lips that she couldn¡¯t help glancing at. Broad, with a full bottom lip and a rich, deep color. They moved as he spoke, and it took her so long to register what he had said that he had to repeat himself.


    ¡°Is that anyway to say thank you?¡± The man arched an elegant brow at her, and for a moment, she wondered how she had found him hot.


    ¡°No. But I wasn¡¯t planning on thanking you.¡± Nodding her head, she propped her chin up on her hand.


    ¡°Ah, so you wanted to get smacked?¡± He drummed his fingers on the bar, tilting his head to one side.


    ¡°It certainly livens the evening.¡± Madelynn shrugged, then turned to her glass, eyeing the last remains of her drink.


    ¡°I¡¯ll remember that for next time.¡± He offered her a half smirk, and then raised a hand to flag down Selena. ¡°Shot of whiskey for me. What do you want, Miss?¡±


    Madelynn stared at him rather blankly for a minute, then looked at Selena. Selena flashed her a grin while the elf was looking at Madelynn and mouthed go for it! To top it off, she made a motion to her own well-endowed chest, and a lewd gesture with her hips.


    Of course, Madelynn was not impressed.


    ¡°Same as him.¡± She kept her tone dry. As Selena went to get their drinks, she pointed to the elf and mouthed, again, to just do it.


    No! Madelynn mouthed back so dramatically that even her new companion had turned to look at the owner. Selena blew him a kiss before busying herself with her task.


    ¡°I did not peg you as a whiskey girl.¡± He casually leaned into the bar, glancing down at her.


    ¡°I¡¯m not. Tonight just sucked.¡± Madelynn shrugged one thin shoulder. Honestly, she did not want to talk about it.


    He seemed to get the hint, as he nodded his head to her. They sat in relative silence for a moment, and Madelynn began to worry she had killed the mood. She took this moment to glance at his attire, noting how expensive even his blue jeans looked. They molded perfectly to his body, as if tailored just for him. They probably were, though.


    When Selena brought the drinks, he picked both up and handed Madelynn hers with a grin.


    ¡°To shitty nights!¡± He raised his glass high and downed it in one go. Madelynn felt herself blink, then she grinned at him, and raised her own.That is three times he has surprised her, and she wondered if it was because she was drunk.


    ¡°To shitty nights!¡± She echoed, and tossed back the whiskey. It seared down her throat, warming her to her very core. Which was good, as her body rejected drinking it that fast by coughing violently.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m Madelynn, by the way.¡± She barely managed to choke the words out.


    ¡°Damien.¡± Setting his glass down, he thumped her back with a deep chuckle.


    ¡°Want to get out of here?¡± Madelynn had said the words before her brain had caught up to her. The question hung between them for what felt like eternity, and then he nodded.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

 Details, Details

    Damien Sullivan was having one of those nights. Or days. Hell, he was having a week. Or was it a month?


    Bah, the details didn¡¯t matter. It just meant that the last while had been rather hard on him. He could feel it in his bones, the weariness that begged him to go home and just sleep it off. It drooped his shoulders, and put bags under his eyes. But as he stood in front of The Cauldron, one of the most popular night clubs in town, he shook the feeling off. Tonight, he would celebrate.


    His fingers brushed against his pocket, feeling the paper tucked within. On an impulse, he pulled it out to look, unfolding the little scrap in his hand. All it had written on it was the floor and suite number of his new department - Floor #5, Suite #507.


    Shoving the paper back into his pocket, he pulled out his ID to show the bouncer. The large troll took it, looking it over with an intent frown. His deep set eyes slide to Damien, then back to the ID in his hand.


    ¡°Little far from home, ain¡¯t ya, pretty boy.¡± The troll¡¯s tone was friendlier than the words that came out of his mouth.


    ¡°I have heard good things. I figured I would check it out.¡± All he earned in response was a grunt, and the troll waved him inside of the nightclub.


    Stepping past the threshold was like walking into a wall. The air was thick with scents that assaulted his elven senses. Body sweat, booze, arousal, longing, sadness, adrenaline, joy¡­All of it tainted the air as he shouldered his way through the crowd. People were packed together out on the floor tighter than sardines. The rest of the crowd mingled in and out of the floor, getting drinks, walking this way and that, looking for places to make out.


    Damien would have settled with a place at the bar and a nice bought of whiskey. The idea of dancing suddenly filled him with dread. One shot, and then he¡¯d go home.


    As he weaved through the crowd, ignoring the delicate hands of women trying to get him to stop, that is what he thought of. Just taking one shot and dipping. Clubs weren¡¯t exactly his speed and he misjudged the fullness of this one. But he hated the idea of his usual haunt more than this. He needed a break from the constant droning on of his kin.


    There was a commotion near the bar, drawing a bigger crowd in. Damien pushed his way through, intent on his goal of just getting to the bar. He could care less about what was going on, he just wanted his shot so he could get out of this overly crowded establishment.


    When he burst out of the crowd, his eyes widened at the scene before him. Some human was raising his hand to strike a pixie woman who seemed to be bracing herself for it. Everyone around was watching in awe, no one moving at all to help.


    Damien moved across the room, his feet carrying him on autopilot. Everything always seemed to slow down when he focused, using his elven attributes to be able to move quickly, though the distance was small. He reached the stranger¡¯s side in record time, his hand grabbing his wrist as he physically got between him and the Pixie.


    ¡°Let go! She started it!¡± It occurred to Damien that the man indeed looks as if he took a rather solid hit to the face. A smile curled his lips, casting a glance to the Pixie behind him. She certainly did not look as if she could pack a punch.


    ¡°Oh, if that''s the case, then by all means,¡± Letting him go, Damien stepped out of the way. He inclined his head toward the Pixie. ¡°Hit her.¡±


    It did not take long for the guy to shove off. Which was good, as Damien would have punched him had he actually done it. And he had a suspicion that this woman was not as innocently cute as she appeared, so another blow from her was possible.


    Sitting down next to her, he was not surprised she wasted no time to talk to him. Her attitude was crass, a stark contrast from the prim Elven ladies he normally dealt with. In fact she openly stared at him for longer than normal as well. It was cute.


    ¡°Is that anyway to say thank you?¡± He said for the second time, as he looked her over while idly drumming his fingers on top of the bar, which yielded a more in depth assessment of her. He had no idea why he''d thought she looked innocent - the woman was certainly dressed her age in a dress that left surprisingly little to the imagination. Through it''s clingy material, he had a very good idea of the


    ¡°No. But I wasn''t planning on thanking you.¡± Damien found the way she turned from him and propped her chin up on her hand while tugging on her bottom lip to be rather attractive.


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    ¡°Ah, so you wanted to get smacked?¡± His fingers continue to drum on the bar, an absent-minded habit of his. Once he realized he closed his hand but resumed it almost immediately as he watched her.


    ¡°It certainly livens the evening.¡± The corner of his mouth quirked into a small smirk. She reminded him of the tales of old, of warrior women who craved the thrill of battle.


    ¡°I''ll remember that for next time.¡± He remembered his goal to have a shot, but perhaps he could stick around past just one though. Flagging down the bartender, he turned to her for a moment. ¡°Shot of whiskey for me. What do you want, Miss?¡±


    As Damien turned back to the Pixie, he watched a rather interesting interaction. Out of the corner of his eyes, he witnessed the bartender make various erotic gestures and he had to hold back a chuckle. Clearly his companion was less amused, but he humored them by looking toward the bartender when she mouthed back a rather forceful No! a moment later.


    He winked in response to a kiss the bartender blew at him. Damien knew she was not flirting with him for her sake, which would have been easy to turn down anyways. He did not favor blondes, nor sirens.


    Instead he focused on his conversation with the Pixie next to him. It was rather refreshing to be near someone that treated him more as an equal, rather than someone to pander too. Or at least she just wasn''t pandering to him.


    ¡°I did not peg you as a whiskey girl.¡± Leaning against the bar, he regarded her intently. He was positive she did not realize she worried her lip with her teeth, which smudged off some of the red lipstick she wore.


    ¡°I¡¯m not. Tonight just sucked.¡± The Pixie averted her eyes for a moment, shrugging one bare shoulder. His eyes narrowed a little, but he did not press.


    After all, they were just strangers in a bar. He did not even know her name. Though, he wouldn¡¯t mind knowing. In fact, there were a few other things he wouldn¡¯t mind knowing about her, he thought as he gave her another look over.


    The drinks arrived, and he handed her hers. As he glanced down at the shot in his hand, the feeling of the past month, week, day, whatever, came back and he couldn¡¯t help himself.


    ¡°To shitty nights!¡± Damien tossed it back, enjoying the hot liquid burning into his chest. It blossomed out, and he gave a deep inhale. That did feel good.


    ¡°To shitty nights!¡± The Pixie echoed, promptly falling into a coughing fit. He patted her back firmly, mindful of her elegant wings. ¡°I-I¡¯m Madelynn, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Damien.¡± A name! At last. Perhaps they would hang out here a bit longer.


    ¡°Want to get out of here?¡± She asked the question, glancing up at him through thick lashes and his mind went blank.


    It would definitely get him out of here, which was his original plan. He had no idea what she had in mind either, but¡­


    ¡°Let''s go.¡±


    The cold fresh air was refreshing after the heaviness of the club. Madelynn stretched her arms above her head and arched her back as they adjusted. Then she started to flit away, her wings pulling her a couple inches from the ground.


    ¡°Come on! I have a craving!¡± She looked over her shoulder at him, her red painted lips spread into a wide smile. Her blue eyes twinkled in the moonlight, the curls of her hair highlighted by the glow of her wings.


    Damien paused for just a moment, staring after her as she turned to continue down the street. That image had instantly seared itself into his brain and he was positive his heart had stopped working. He felt entranced by her beauty.


    ¡°Hurry up, slow-poke!¡± Madelynn stopped at the corner and waved an arm to him.


    Damien broke into a light jog to follow after her, a grin pulling at his lips. Maybe it was the new job, the drink still warming his heart, or the moon-lit night, but he found himself rather excited by his up-coming adventure with Madelynn.


    Madelynn took him to a street cart near the pier to purchase empanadas. He got himself one filled with a warm gooey cheese, whereas Madelynn got one filled with mango. Walking side by side, they decided to walk around the pier and its small, circular spot for food trucks. There were a few people out, but most people would be partying tonight, or just indoors.


    New Dark was like that. The nightlife happened in enclosed spaces as much as possible. Probably for the best.


    ¡°So, Damien, you''re a cheese man?¡± She arched a brow at him, nibbling on the corner of her empanada.


    ¡°Sometimes. This is surprisingly good. I do not eat street food often.¡± The warmth of the soft, flakey empanada complimented the melted cheese wonderfully. Savory and a bit sweet.


    ¡°Yeah, I didn¡¯t peg you as the type.¡± Madelynn nudged him with her shoulder, shooting a grin up at him. He chuckled down at her, an easy going smirk spread over his face.


    ¡°I¡¯m not. But tonight isn¡¯t a bad night to start.¡± They had slowed to a stop, looking at each other.


    There was a bit of mango on the corner of her mouth, contrasting with her pale skin and red lips. Damien reached out, using his thumb to brush it away. In his head, it¡¯d be kind of romantic. In reality, he just smeared the fruit across her cheek.


    ¡°Ah, sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to¡­¡± His eyes rose to her, noting how blue they were, and how big, surrounded by long, black lashes. Her cheeks were flushed, and he was positive she wasn¡¯t wearing any blush.


    His hand slid to cradle her jaw, and he leaned in, pausing before his lips brushed hers. She closed the gap with a small intake of air, and their lips brushed lightly. Then more firmly. Then again, forcefully.


    The empanadas fell to the ground as he wound an arm around her waist, gathering her up off the ground. Her hands dug into the front of his jacket, pulling herself even closer. The hand on her jaw moved to the nape of her neck, tangling itself in her curls while their tongues did the talking. They kissed deeply, ravenously, either forgetting to breathe without the other.


    He slid his tongue into her mouth, enticing her own to dance with him. She tasted smoky, with a fruity undertone and the scent of lilacs wafted off her gently. When they broke the kiss, both of them were panting, cheeks flushed as they regarded each other.


    Then he kissed her again.

 Number Three

    Raymond Leaf-Trasher¡¯s morning was not off to a good start. Sure, it was eventful, but this was not how he expected to spend his Saturday. His bed would have been preferred.


    The apartment building was not made for one as tall as Raymond, and he found having to bend over as he made his way through to be tiresome. It was an older building, from the time before trolls were allowed in the city.


    Cops mulled outside the apartment, one man retching into one of the potted plants in the hall. Raymond barely glanced at them, placing a hand on the top of the door frame as he ducked into the apartment. Long before he had reached the doorway, the metallic scent of blood had assaulted his senses.


    But now, it surrounded him, pressing into him from all sides. His baser instinct dictated that this scent would drive him to find the source to consume it, much like a shark in water. Raymond shook it off with a quick shake of his head.


    ¡°What do we have, Ward?¡± He met the orc in the kitchen, which wasn¡¯t hard. The apartment was long, narrow, the first area being the kitchen to the right, and the living room beyond that, also to the right.


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty gruesome, Ray, I ain¡¯t gonna lie.¡± Howard had a few coffees on the counter, all of them untouched. Raymond set his own down next to them.


    ¡°Any suspects?¡± Howard led him down the hallway, past the living room. Raymond cast a side glance to it. Nicely decorated, white painted walls with blue trim, to match the couch and coffee table. A cat-tree in the corner, some potted plants. The victim clearly did their best to brighten up the place.


    ¡°None. Open window on the fire escape. Door was locked upon arrival.¡± Howard stopped outside the door at the end of the hall. The smell of blood was strongest here, mixed with fear, sweat¡­Hell, Raymond could even smell the salt from tears that were dry by now.


    He grunted to Howard, and pushed the door inward as he stepped into the room. No one else was in here, though someone had lain a tarp over the body. Blood splattered out from it, coating the walls, the bed with its plush pink blanket, the dresser covered in cosmetics, all tipped over. Some were scattered on the ground, a perfume cracked to add its sweet scent to the stench of death.


    ¡°She struggled.¡± He noted dryly, crouching down next to the body. Lifting the corner a bit, he realized her eyes were still open. Devoid of any life, they were still a rather pretty shade of blue. Raymond pulled on thick, black gloves and reached out to close them with two fingers. ¡°This is the third victim?¡±


    ¡°Yah.¡± Howard hung back. He was never good with particularly violent murders. Good detective, but better off the scene.


    Raymond tossed the tarp aside, and heard his partner gag. He paid it no mind.


    She had been stripped of her clothes. Cuts and lacerations covered her petite body, her wrists still bound behind her back. What stood out to him was the bruising on her neck, which he traced with her fingers. Rope. Her mouth was gagged, and through the blood on her face were tear streaks. There was too much blood to guess her hair color.


    He turned his gaze to her back, which was covered in a thick layer of drying blood that was already cracking. On her back were two long, jagged ridges, stained red from the blood. He did not need forensics to tell him they were the remains of her wings.


    The jagged edges implied they had been hacked away, and judging from the knicks on her arms and sides, paired with the bruising on her legs, she was alive when it happened. But he would know more when they did the autopsy.


    ¡°Fucking gruesome.¡± Howard stated the obvious, and Raymond nodded his head. His nose twitched, and he inhaled a deep whiff of the room.


    His nose was assaulted, but he kept on sniffing through the stench of death. Looking for something, anything, that¡¯d give him a clue.


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    ¡°Salt¡­¡± He murmured, catching the whiff of something different from the rest of the room. ¡°Male¡­Something else I can¡¯t place my finger on¡­¡±


    Howard was silent while Raymond worked. Everyone knew not to interrupt him, and his keen sense of smell is what earned him the nickname The Bloodhound. To top it off, he was thorough, dedicated, and once he knew a scent, it was hard to shake it.


    Raymond shook his head, and rose to his feet. It nagged at him, the smell he couldn¡¯t put his finger on. As soon as he whiffed it, everything else started to fade. That was bad. He rubbed his nose, and pulled air through it and then back out forcefully.


    ¡°Ya good, Ray?¡± Howard had stepped into the room, and Ray waved him off, feeling a wave of lightheadedness hit him.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­Don¡¯t come in.¡± He shook his head, using his sleeve to cover the lower half of his face. Turning, Ray went for the door, pushing past Howard as he did. He needed fresh air, and he needed it now.


    Most apartments had their fire escape in the living room, and, thankfully, this one was no exception. He made it to the window, pushing his head outside, hands curling on the frame and took a deep breath. It smelled awful - gas tickled his nose, the wafts of an unwashed body from the alley below, and just the general stench of an overpopulated city.


    But it was a relief after what he had picked up in that room. The problem was, he had no idea what it was.


    Raymond was still hanging out the window, breathing in the city, when he felt an arm on his hand. He turned, and it was Officer Wiston, the new recruit, offering him a bottle of water.


    ¡°Detective Hornwhistle said you needed this.¡± Her eyes were a rich brown, framed with dark brown lashes. A rather pretty thing, and the fact Raymond had seen her even flip Howard warmed his heart.


    ¡°Thank you, Officer Wiston.¡± He took the bottle, comically small in his hand, and popped it open with his thumb. Then he tilted his head back, pressing it to his lips, and inhaled it as if it were nothing. When he lowered it down, and looked at her again, she was just watching him with wide eyes. ¡°Anything else?¡±


    ¡°N-no sir! Very impressive, sir!¡± With a flaming blush, she spun away from him and darted back toward the kitchen of the apartment. Raymond smiled to himself, then sobered up.


    He tossed the bottle out the window, hoping it made it into a trashcan, and strolled back to the bedroom. Now that he was done getting air, he had to get to work. Evidence was not going to gather itself.


    Several hours later, Raymond and Howard were sitting at a local diner. Raymond slouched in his chair, leaning back into it with a low groan, while Howard eyed the menu.


    ¡°Earlier you couldn¡¯t stomach being in the room, now you want a burger?¡± Raymond looked down his face at Howard, refusing to lift his lulling head.


    ¡°Hey, a man has to eat. How else am I goin¡¯ to keep these hogs going?¡± Howard raised his arms, tugging at the sleeve of his button up to show off his bulging bicep.


    ¡°Careful, Ward. It may all end up in your gut.¡± Raymond let his eyes travel around the crowded diner, taking in the assortment of people. It always intrigued him how so many different species could live in peace here, but it was the times.


    ¡°Hah! Then it¡¯d just keep my lady warm.¡± Howard slapped his stomach, letting out a deep chuckle. ¡°What ¡®bout you, Ray?¡±


    ¡°Pie and coffee.¡± Raymond always got the same thing - a decent slice of pie, and a warm cup of coffee. Howard snorted, but seemed unsurprised with the choice as he looked for the waitress.


    As if sensing their readiness, she appeared nearly out of thin air, her pile of hair being the first noticeable thing about her. Raymond glanced down at the halfling, who held a tray on a rather wide hip, and offered him a grin.


    ¡°Afternoon, boys. Let me guess what you¡¯re getting this time.¡± She didn¡¯t bother producing her order pad, just tilted her head and tapped the corner of her mouth with one knobby finger. ¡°For Detective Leaf-Trasher, I bet he¡¯s going to want the pie of the day and coffee, no cream. As for you, Detective Hornwhistle¡­Medium rare burger, no ketchup, extra mustard, no lettuce, bacon, a side of fries, and a milkshake. Am I right?¡±


    They had both sat there, exchanging amused glances as Patty recited their order. They came here at least once a week, and despite always asking, they got the same thing.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, Patty. And make sure ta give me extra cheese this time.¡± Howard smiled at her, and she gasped softly at him.


    ¡°Oh! Switching it up, eh?¡± She winked at him, patting his arm, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, hon. I got you. I¡¯ll be back in a jiff.¡±


    With that, she flounced away from them, humming to herself. Howard turned back to Ray, his expression somber suddenly.


    ¡°I ain¡¯t looking forward to this case, Ray.¡± Folding his hands on the table, the orc frowned for a long moment. His thumb rubbed into the back of his hand, the color of red clay, and his sloping mud colored eyes stared down at the table.


    ¡°Same.¡± Raymond sighed heavily. Despite his partner¡¯s rather fierce appearance, Raymond had found that he was a big softie. But he did an excellent job.


    ¡°Ray¡­What happened at the scene?¡± Howard raised his eyes to Raymond¡¯s, their muddy brown darkness zeroing in. Raymond always found it unnerving to stare too long into his eyes, and rolled his shoulders in a shrug, feigning looking for Patty.


    ¡°No idea. I¡¯ll find out though, don¡¯t worry.¡± Raymond had no idea what it was that took away his scent like that, but he¡¯d be damned if it happened again.

 Only Human

    Honestly, everyone makes a mistake.


    Mistakes make you human, right?


    Of course, what if you¡¯re a Pixie?


    What does that make you then?


    Course, was this a mistake? Maybe?


    These were the thoughts that tormented Madelynn as she sat in her apartment the morning after meeting Damien. She had her extra blanket wrapped around her, and was staring at the man lying beside her. He literally took up her entire full-sized bed, a stark reminder that she really should upgrade to a queen.


    He had his head turned away from her, and slept on his stomach, both arms stretched out along the pillows. When she had woken up, one of his arms had been draped over the top of her, and his large hand rested next to her head. It had taken some skill to squirm out from under him, only for him to put his arm right back in the spot.


    His long hair had been left down, covering his shoulders, with some strands going to his waist. Even sleeping, his muscular body was perfectly sculpted. Harsh red lines covered his shoulders and back and when she realized they were scratches, from her nails, she felt her cheeks flush a deep red. Madelynn tore her eyes away from him, her heart thudding in her chest.


    Still, she wasn¡¯t a one-night stand kind of girl. Sure, she had had romance here and there, but who hadn¡¯t? Though a romance was a stark difference to a naked strange man in her bed. She couldn¡¯t even use being drunk as an excuse - she had only had two drinks the night before.


    The pixie jumped, nearly leaving her skin as he grunted, rolling his head toward her now. Her hands were clutching the blanket so tight that her knuckles turned white, and she found herself pulling it to her chin.


    Very dramatic, Maddie.


    Taking a deep breath, she loosened her grip on the blanket. She had to assess this scenario like any rational person, and certainly freaking out next to him was not the answer.


    Her eyes strayed away for a moment, before going back to him, drawn to his eyelashes. They were quite long, laying against his cheek like the fuzzy head of a dandelion. If she blew on them, would they blow away on the wind of her breath?


    Madelynn realized she had been slowly leaning over him, and straightened immediately. Her hand had been so close to touching his cheek, to brushing her thumb along the underside of his eyes. And then what?


    Would she¡­kiss him?


    Her cheeks flushed once more as her lips felt hot, recalling a memory of another kiss. Not one of the kisses from the bedroom, though they were still fresh in her mind. But she had not been so drunk she remembered nothing from the night before. Her heart thudded, recalling their walk on the pier. The kisses under the streetlamp near her place. It felt so¡­so¡­


    Cheesy, romance movie. Madelynn was not a romantic by any means, so the memory in broad daylight left her with a surreal feeling. One where she couldn¡¯t believe it, and thus, it couldn¡¯t possibly have felt so magical. Was it the whiskey talking?


    Sliding out of the bed, Madelynn slipped her slippers on her feet. She left the blanket behind, and crossed the room toward the bathroom. As she walked, she reached down to pluck her robe from the floor and pull it on.


    Pausing for a moment, her eyes roamed the messy room. The sudden urge to gather up the discarded clothes and at least make a neat pile welled up in her. But it passed as quickly as it appeared with a shrug of her shoulders. Instead, she slipped into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her.


    Stolen story; please report.


    The light flickered on with a little sszzztt, threatening to go back out immediately. She reached up to whack it with her hand, wings fluttering to lift her off the ground. It hissed at her, but finally knocked that nonsense off.


    Glancing in the mirror, she let out a low groan. Her eyeliner and mascara had mingled, rubbing around her eyes this way and that, giving her a rather raccoon-like appearance. The deep red lipstick she wore was half on, smeared to one side and onto her cheeks and chin. Her foundation was nearly gone, the freckles she sported becoming visible. To top it off, her wispy afro of cotton-candy colored hair floated about her head in a halo. The type of halo that stuck up unevenly this way and that, like a bad trim job on a shrubbery.


    In short - Madelynn Fisher was a mess.


    She tilted her head, pulling the robe to one side to eye some of the hickeys that decorated her shoulder and neck. Her cheeks flushed anew as she remembered his lips on her body, searing his dominance into her very flesh.


    Tugging the robe back close in a hurry, she shook her head with a shudder of pleasure at the reminder. Now was not the time to be focusing on the night before. She had a lot of work to do if she was going to become presentable.


    Her eyes fell on her phone, still perched on the corner of her sink from the night before. She knew she had left it there, but the sight of it still sent her stomach plummeting to the floor. Her hands curled around the edges of the sink, breath coming in low gasps as the sudden wish for a hole to open up and swallow her washed over her.


    Madelynn closed her eyes, willing the memory of the call to just go away. It could wait till Monday. Honestly, she shouldn¡¯t have let her hopes get so high. The job wasn¡¯t hers till Monday anyways, so losing it wasn¡¯t the end of the world.


    Right?


    It was a lie, she knew it. But she had to tell herself it, or she would be driven mad with fury. Shaking her head, she turned toward the shower and turned the water on. Extra hot, as her body ached from the various positions she had tried throughout the night. That, and she figured if she were to start a new day, she had to scrub the old one raw.


    For a moment, she hesitated, then she turned to her phone, flipping it on. There were numerous missed calls and texts, but honestly, she couldn¡¯t handle it yet. Instead, she turned on one of her favorite streaming apps and started playing her favorite break-up songs.


    As the music drifted into the room, she let her head lull to one side, and forced herself to relax. It was a new day. A new day, a new Madelynn. Turning to her shower, she discarded the robe in a heap on the off-white tile floor and climbed in.


    The hot water felt amazing as it beat into her back, her wings pressing into her, and she let her head tip back. Madelynn enjoyed her showers hot and hard, finding it rather soothing on her muscles. As she showered, she couldn¡¯t help raising her voice in song to join the music coming out of her phone, taking her sweet time.


    When Maddelynn emerged from the shower, nearly forty minutes later, she was not surprised to find Damien gone. It was probably for the best, considering how they met. Still, she felt rather disappointed, which surprised her. They were, after all, virtually strangers.


    She let the towel drop to the floor, joining the heaps of dirty clothes, and opened her closet to start searching for one of her favorite shirts. It did not take her long, and she took out a pale blue shirt with a giant puppy on the front that said Woof-astic in large, yellow bubble letters on the front. Pulling it on, she spun around the room, one of her favorite songs starting to play on her phone. She plucked her hairbrush from the floor, turning it into her microphone, as she lifted herself off the ground to start to sing into it excitedly.


    Madelynn kept her eyes closed, letting the song wash over her as she moved back and forth. She, shamefully, knew all the cartography of the song, and employed it now in the air. Letting her voice rise, she lost herself in the sweet, sweet music that drew the image of her boss to the forefront.


    ¡°And I-iiii¡­Watched you fail~!¡±  She belted the words out with such enthusiasm she did not notice the door open until she heard the low clap.


    Feeling her breath rush out of her, Madelynn¡¯s feet hit the floor with a thud as she clutched the shirt to cover her exposed nether regions. Her head snapped around to look at Damien standing in her doorway, a wide smirk spread across his face. For a moment, she debated if he had a punchable face or not.


    ¡°Breakfast is ready, Pink.¡± With that, he turned on his heel to stroll from the room, chuckling softly to himself. Madeylnn stared after him, then felt her blood pressure rise at the nickname he had called her.


    Pink?!

 Good Morning, Sunshine!

    Damien Sullivan flickered open his eyes as he heard the bathroom door click shut. For a moment, he stared around the room. Smaller than expected, the blinds were lopsided and the floor covered in clothes. Somehow, he knew the basket was the ¡®clean¡¯ space and he couldn¡¯t help but smile at that.


    He tossed the blanket to one side as he rolled onto his back. In one fluid motion, he catapulted himself up from the bed. And nearly knocked his head on a hanging plant he had missed. Steadying it with one hand, a low chuckle came from him.


    Damien felt the largest grin he had in ages plastered on his face as he pulled on his boxers and then his pants. He had worn jeans the night before, a real treat for himself as he was painfully used to suits.


    Strolling from the room, he made a beeline for her kitchen. It was a small affair, just to the right of the hall leading from the bedroom. The apartment was small - the back half housed Madelynn¡¯s bedroom and bathroom, and the front half was the living, dining, and kitchen areas.


    In fact, the wall of the kitchen facing the living room had a weird gap filled with railing about three feet up from the ground. It gave everything a warm feeling, a feeling that called to him. It felt more¡­real than his own home.


    The kitchen itself was simple, barely square shaped, and the counters made a perfect L on the opposite wall from the bannister wall. There was a small table shoved into the corner with two chairs around it, covered in take out boxes.


    ¡°That does not bode well for breakfast.¡± He murmured, picking one of the boxes up to give it a whiff. He pulled it away, his face scrunching up as he waved a hand in front of his face. ¡°Oof, that¡¯s rank.¡±


    Tossing it in the trash, that was somehow not overflowing, he pulled open the fridge to peer inside. The wasteland that greeted his eyes was rather offensive. A carton of almond milk sat on the top shelf, a package of questionable lettuce, a thing of tofu, peanut butter, and an assortment of sauces filled the fridge.


    ¡°Who puts peanut butter in the fridge?¡± Closing the fridge, he opened the cupboards to find it all in a similar desolate state. ¡°Right, looks like we are ordering food.¡±


    Luckily, he had managed to keep his phone in his pocket. Even more lucky that he had his favorite place to eat on speed dial.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s Damien. Different address¡­¡± Damien prattled off his order, and then slipped the phone into his back pocket. He hoped it wouldn¡¯t offend her, but he could not bring himself to eat in here with the kitchen in this state.


    Grabbing the trash can, he focused firstly on what was easiest - the copious amounts of garbage. With a silent prayer that cleaning this up wouldn¡¯t kill the budding feelings he had for Maddie, he got to work.


    In truth, he was grateful for the distraction, as well as the stark contrast to his own life. When he had met Maddie the night before, he hadn¡¯t known what to expect, but this messy, angry woman made him smile.


    Even so, he did find cleaning up all her to-go containers to take very little time. The next step was the sink full of dishes. She, surprisingly, had a working dishwasher and soap.


    ¡°Maybe she¡¯s just been busy.¡± He mused to himself, though he himself doubted it. She herself had been put together, with her large blue eyes that seemed to see into the depths of his soul.


    Her lips, full and luscious with their natural pout, popped into his mind as he put dishes from the sink to the washer with record speed. They had been painted red, and he knew if he looked, he¡¯d find leftover kisses in questionable spots.


    He liked that. It made him feel marked, even more so than the hickey burned into his neck, or the scratches that decorated his back.


    A knock at the door alerted him to the arrival of the food. Drying off his hands on the only towel he had found, Damien headed for the door quickly.


    He opened it, flashing a grin at his favorite delivery man.


    ¡°Morning, Tony.¡± Damien chuckled at him. Tony was a bit soft around the edges, despite his height that almost rivaled Damien¡¯s.


    ¡°Morning? It¡¯s nearly noon, man.¡± Tony handed him the green bag that read Mickey¡¯s on the side, and a drink carrier with two coffees. ¡°Put a shirt on, why don¡¯t ya?¡±


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    ¡°You¡¯re just jealous.¡± Damien pulled an extra ten from his wallet, and handed it to Tony. Tony flashed him a middle finger and Damien chuckled loudly, waving to his friend as he left.


    As soon as he closed the door, he hustled to the kitchen. He had kept a couple plates after loading the dishwasher, as checking the cupboard yielded very little results in the way of dishes as well.


    It was alright, as Damien worked with a similar amount of dishes when he was a college student.


    He quickly wiped down the table, humming to himself happily. As he finished cleaning up, he lifted his head, catching the sounds of singing coming from down the hall.


    A slow smirk spread across his face again, and he grabbed the plates, setting them on the table with a fork, a paper towel for a napkin, a spoon, a glass of water, and the coffees. He quickly spread the food out among the plates and gave a satisfied nod when he was done.


    ¡°There¡­I hope she likes it.¡± Heading down the hall, he opened the door to find her only in a shirt, and dancing as she sang with a brush for a microphone. Leaning on the doorframe, he clapped, enjoying the view of her simply just enjoying life.


    The grin broadened when she rounded on him, her mouth opening and closing as if she could not find the words. Clearly she had not been expecting him, and the thought nearly made him laugh.


    ¡°Breakfast is ready, Pink.¡± Damien turned to head back down the hall. He figured she¡¯d follow in a moment, and that was fine by him.


    His cheeks were flushed as he thought of her just flying around. She was rather cute, but he figured she would not appreciate that just yet, as she looked about ready to gouge his eyes out a moment ago. Though¡­She had been rather sweet the night before.


    As he sank into the chair to wait for her, Madelynn did not disappoint or make him wait very long. In fact, she burst into the room, breathing deeply through her nose, eyes wide as she stared at him. Her wings flapped rapidly, one hand on the wall and one on the banister at the end of the row. She had put on black shorts, nearly short enough to touch the hem of the shirt.


    ¡°What are you still doing here?!¡± She hissed at him through clenched teeth.


    Damien motioned to the plates of food, and winked at her. He found he enjoyed her flustered expression, or was it rage? Either way, it suited her.


    ¡°Eating. Care to join me?¡± He watched with growing fascination as the vein in her forehead continued to throb. Then her eyes slid to take in the kitchen, head tilting as she slowly lowered to the ground.


    ¡°Did you¡­?¡± Shaking her head, she looked at him again, her brow knitting together. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to clean.¡±


    Damien nodded his head as she slowly came over to the table. She sank into the chair next to him, looking down at the plate before her. It had a croissant, some berries, a side of peanut butter, and toasted soybeans.


    ¡°I know. Eat. I had to get the eggs removed. You don¡¯t eat any animal products, yes?¡± In contrast, Damien had a slice of toast, a cut of honey glazed bacon, some soybeans himself, and two eggs.


    ¡°I¡­Thank you.¡± Maddie picked up the fork, eyeing the food in front of her. He felt rather pleased with the thank you, but did not push any further interaction.


    They ate in silence for a few minutes, Maddie devouring her meal after a moment of hesitation like a ravenous animal. She reminded him of a small dog - quick to anger, a bit skittish, and always hungry. He liked it.


    ¡°Did you expect me to be gone?¡± He reached for his coffee, taking a long drink from it.


    ¡°Ah!¡± Her eyes snapped up to his, the whites showing as both brows raised. ¡°Well, I mean¡­I¡¯ve never brought someone home before.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Damien dipped his toast into his yolk, smearing that golden goodness onto it before bringing it to his lips.


    ¡°Well¡­It just never happened before.¡±  Her cheeks flushed as she gave a shrug, ¡°I mean, I¡­¡±


    Damien paused, licking some yolk from his lips. He could tell she was trying hard to find the words, by the way she worried her bottom lip with her teeth and averted her gaze.


    ¡°Did you want last night to be a one night stand? Because,¡± He angled his body to face her better, ¡°I would enjoy continuing to get to know you and seeing where this could go.¡±


    ¡°Oh is that so?¡±¡± She looked at him, sitting up straighter. A smirk suddenly danced at the corner of her lips, and he reached out to grab the edge of her chair. In one tug, he pulled her closer to him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you?¡± Damien arched a brow at her, enjoying her attitude as she relaxed.


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Madelynn nodded her head slowly after a moment, ¡°But only if you take me back to the empanada place.¡±


    He smirked at her playful wink, placing his hands on her waist to lift her out of her chair. Madelynn, taking the hint, straddled him as he placed in his lap.


    ¡°Deal.¡± His lips brushed her soft ones, feeling her arms snake around his neck to pull him more. Greedily he let his hands slide up her hips, feeling the subtle curves of her body as he deepened the kiss.


    Damien tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth, sweeping his tongue into her mouth as she parted them with a low gasp. Her fingers wove themselves into his hair at the back of his head, arching her back to press herself firmly into him. He could feel her breasts through the shirt, rubbing against his own bare torso and he grabbed her rear to pull her firmly against himself.


    ¡°Already excited?¡± She moaned into the kiss, and he pulled back to trail wet kisses down the side of her neck.


    ¡°Easy enough with you.¡± Damien caught the hem of her shirt with his thumbs and slid his fingers underneath. Following her smooth flesh, he started to pull it up, his goal to take it off her petite frame.


    ¡°MADELYNN!¡± A loud voice called from outside the front door as suddenly someone banged on it. ¡°YOU BETTER BE ALIVE IN THIERE!¡±


    Madelynn yanked her head back from him, glancing over her shoulder with wide eyes. Damien glanced toward the door, dropping his hands from under her shirt as his eyebrow raised.


    ¡°Have any outstanding debts?¡± He tried to keep his tone teasing, but he had not accounted for interruptions.


    ¡°Worse,¡± Madelynn groaned, sliding off his lap to head for the door. ¡°It¡¯s my friend, Diana.¡±

 Coffee, Coffee

    Raymond needed coffee.


    Ironic, he knew. He had just had some at the diner, and again upon returning to the station. But he needed it, and this damn coffee pot was taking too long. His large fingers drummed on the surface of the countertop, a low growl tickling the back of his throat.


    Drip, drip, drip.


    ¡°Damn this contraption.¡± Raymond bent down, peering at the pot more closely. ¡°Brew.¡±


    A chuckle came from the doorway, and he turned his head to eye the Captain. The Captain was a spry looking human female, with stark white hair and a warm smile. She also was rather fierce, and had in her day captured some of the worst criminals to plague New Dark.


    ¡°Captain.¡± Raymond straightened, inclining his head to her.


    ¡°No need to be so formal, Raymond. We are, after all, long time friends.¡± She strolled into the room, her eyes glancing toward the rather slow coffee pot. ¡°I do not know why you bother. That entire pot makes up your cup.¡±


    ¡°No time to leave.¡± He turned back to the pot, folding his arms as he frowned down at the coffee pot in question.


    ¡°Nonsense. I am sending you home anyways.¡± She reached into a cupboard, producing a simple white mug.


    ¡°Sending me home? Why?¡± His eyes snapped to her, narrowing to slits that nearly hid their deep green color.


    ¡°Detective Hornwhistle told me what happened Raymond.¡± Her fingers tapped lightly on the top edge of her mug. She stood, back straight, one hand ever resting near the gun in her holster. ¡°The question is, why didn¡¯t you report it yourself?¡±


    ¡°I did not know what to make of it, Captain. It was probably just a one time fluke.¡± Raymond moved his massive cup closer to the pot now, and felt her eyes judging him as he stared back at the coffee pot.


    ¡°Then it¡¯ll be easy for you to go home, rest, and see your doctor on Monday.¡± She reached out, snagging the pot as soon as it made the beep sound. He grunted, watching her pour the dark liquid in her cup. ¡°Enjoy your weekend, Raymond.¡±


    With that, she left the room, sipping her fresh, hot coffee. Raymond looked after her, then sighed to himself. He opened the highest cupboard and placed his mug among the other rather large mugs there.


    As he made his way out of the Bureau, his heavy steps thudding through the crowded desks, Howard suddenly popped up next to him. He held a donut in his hand, clearly a peace offering.


    Raymond glanced down at it - chocolate glazed. He breathed in deeply, willing himself to be stronger, and then took the donut.


    ¡°Should have kept your mouth shut, Ward.¡± The donut, a rare delicacy made for one his size, still fit in his mouth with on violent shove.


    ¡°Damn, Ray! Savor it.¡± Howard frowned at him, following like a loyal dog as they passed through the doors to the lobby. ¡°Ya know I couldn¡¯t. Nothing brings you down usually.¡±


    Raymond shook his head at him, and pointed to his overfull nose with a shrug. Howard rolled his eyes to the heavens, stopping by the front desk as Raymond continued on.


    ¡°Just enjoy yer weekend, Ray!¡± He called after him. Raymond waved over his shoulder but did not turn to look at him.


    Raymond enjoyed walking, and today was no exception. He only used his car if he had too, but he lived just a few, though large, blocks away. Most people would hate the long commute of four blocks, each practically its own little world. But Raymond found it soothing for his mind. It gave him time to run over evidence, which was what he was doing right now.


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    No murder weapon had been found, which did not surprise him. Normally with a case like this, the killer would have taken them with them. The other two victims were exactly the same, their wings hacked off, and all of them female.


    ¡°But for what purpose?¡± He rubbed his face, and shook his head. He had to take his mind off the case, at least for a moment. Perhaps he really should go for a cup of coffee, after all. He knew just where to go, too.


    The Hot Spot was a small, but popping coffee shop on the next block. It sat in the perfect spot to be frequented by the multiple office buildings around. So Raymond was unsurprised to find the small, cozy shop filled.


    The tables in front of the large windows were filled with patrons, as were the benches that followed along the walls. It was the line that was most impressive, especially for this time of day. In the morning, the line would go outside, but now, the giant troll managed to squeeze in at the glass doors themselves.


    When he reached the front of the line, the barista, a college age looking kid, looked up at Raymond and balked. She was quickly ushered to the side by her more experienced colleague, and manager.


    ¡°Afternoon, Raymond. Though it''s about evening.¡± He offered a warm smile, ¡°Usual?¡±


    ¡°Always. Make it to-go.¡± Raymond leaned against the counter, making sure to brace most of his weight on his feet. It was more for show, so to speak. As the barista, Frank, made his order, Raymond looked around the caf¨¦.


    ¡°Anything else today?¡± Frank held out his drink, and Raymond took it with a shake of his head.


    ¡°Not today.¡± He headed toward the door, taking a sip of his drink. The sweet, warm taste of peppermint, raspberry and chocolate washed over his tongue and he smiled to himself, briefly.


    As he reached the door, taking in one last inhale of the caf¨¦, a strange scent pricked his nose. He knew it now, better than before, but it stung as it dug into his nostrils. Within a moment he could smell nothing but it, and snorted, rubbing at his nose as he looked around. Everything seemed ordinary, that scent seeming to fade as quickly as he smelled it.


    But the hair on his neck rose, his breathing switching to his mouth, just in case. He felt his heart beat slow, ears practically pricking up, as his whole focus shifted to finding the source. The caf¨¦ was too crowded, people milling about, all of them talking in a mixture of overly loud and hushed whispers.


    He turned his head, searching back toward the counter. There he saw Frank, busy putting on the charm with a cute brunette. Beyond Frank was his crew, all of them busy making coffees, but he couldn¡¯t pinpoint where the smell had come from.


    Maybe the Captain was right¡­He should get checked by his doctor.


    Strolling outside, he took another sip of his coffee and pulled out his phone, putting it to his ear. She didn¡¯t leave him waiting long.


    ¡°Hey, Rebecca. It¡¯s me, Raymond.¡± The people passing by paid him no mind as he made his way down the street.


    ¡°No shit, Sherlock. What do you want?¡± Her snippy voice made him smile.


    ¡°Can¡¯t I just be calling to be sociable?¡± In his mind¡¯s eye he could see her, her dirty blonde hair pulled into a messy bun. The phone perched perilously between her shoulder and side of her head while she scribbled notes down. The line between her brows, and the way her mouth scrunched up when she was focusing.


    ¡°Maybe when pigs fly.¡±


    ¡°Heh. Alright. I need a favor.¡± Instead of crossing 3rd Avenue, he cut to the left, making a beeline for the park.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Ray. Last time I did you a favor, it blew up in my face.¡± The chair she sat in creaked, and he knew she had leaned back. Probably was drumming her fingers on the arm of the seat.


    ¡°This one is easy, I promise.¡± Raymond shrugged a bit, as if she could possibly see that.


    ¡°That¡¯s what you said last time, but I¡¯ll bite¡­¡± The chair squeaked this time, meaning she spun to face her office. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Get me into a specialist. A troll specialist.¡± He found a bench and sank onto the metal and plastic structure. ¡°I need to go in Monday morning.¡±


    ¡°What am I, your mother?¡± She sneered the words at him.


    ¡°Come on, Becca. Please.¡± Raymond leaned back against the back of the bench. ¡°Do it for me.¡±


    ¡°Ugh! Fine!¡± It was a relief to hear her agree, and he decided he¡¯d have to do something nice for her later. ¡°But this is the last favor, Ray!¡±


    ¡°On my honor.¡± Raymond took a sip of his coffee. ¡°I¡¯ll treat you next time.¡±


    ¡°You better. Make it eel and sushi.¡±


    ¡°Heh. Alright.¡± As soon as he had agreed, Rebecca cut the line. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps seeing the doctor will shed some light on what was blocking his senses.


    Which was good for another reason. Knowing it was could help him catch the killer, which Raymond aimed to do quickly.


    He rose from the bench, and tossed his empty cup in the garbage as he strolled from the park. No time like the present to keep going, off the clock or not.

 That Bastard

    Monday morning dawned terribly bright, dreadfully early, and at the most inconvenient time.


    Madelynn opened her eyes slowly, blinking a few times before she reached out to smack her alarm. She felt good physically, but mentally, she was exhausted already. As she sat up, she saw a post-it attached to her lamp.


    Headed out early. Text me, - Damien


    Her lips pulled into a rueful grin. After Diane had unexpectedly shown up, and was promptly kicked out, Damien had stayed the entire weekend. It was splendid.


    Madelynn wasted no time heading into the bathroom to get ready for her work day. Her room was just as messy as before, but Damien had tidied up in other rooms. Like the bathroom. All her makeup stains were gone, though he had the good sense to put all the makeup itself back how he had found it.


    With a soft chuckle, she set to work.


    The rest of the morning went by in a blur of activity. Hair fluffed, makeup applied, business casual attire donned. Out the door, and down the street. Her commute was fairly easy, as Madelynn normally flew to work. She lived close enough it wasn¡¯t too tiring.


    When she arrived at work, bursting into the breakroom with narrowed eyes, she immediately looked for Diana. Who had the good sense to be hiding behind Trevor, their mutual friend.


    ¡°Diana, really. Do not use me as a shield.¡± He raised his hands haplessly to Madelynn. She pointed with her thumb to one side, and with a nod, he darted from in front of Diana.


    ¡°Maddie, please. I didn¡¯t know you had company.¡± Diana walked backwards as Madelynn walked toward her. She kept her steps even, sure; rather than rush her friend, she was taking her time.


    ¡°You know that¡¯s not the problem, Diana.¡± Her head tossed, cloud-like hair bouncing about her head. ¡°It¡¯s what happened after you found out!¡±


    Trevor pulled a chair to one side of the room, and sat down with a bowl of miniature cookies and an apple. He crossed his legs, glancing between the two women as they worked out their issues.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry! He was hot, okay?!¡± Diana threw her hands in the air. ¡°I can¡¯t help it!¡±


    ¡°You most certainly can!¡± Pointing a finger at her, Madelynn felt her rage building. It was downright ridiculous this was a discussion. ¡°If you had merely ogled and left, that¡¯d be one thing! But you offered him your number?!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Maddie! It was not my finest moment.¡± Sinking into a chair, Diana sighed heavily. From his chair, Trevor leaned forward a bit.


    ¡°No it was not. I thought we were better friends than that.¡± Stopping in front of her, Madelynn folded her arms and frowned down at Diana.


    Diana was a pretty woman. She was human, taller than Madelynn, with long, luscious brown hair that shimmered in most lights. She had large brown eyes to match, and a curvy, thicker body than Madelynn herself. She was used to men preferring her friend.


    ¡°Ah, Maddie!¡± Diana looked up at her, and opened her mouth, then closed it again. ¡°You¡¯re right Maddie¡­I am sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have offered your date my number.¡±


    Madelynn sighed at her, and rolled her eyes upward. She used her foot to bring over a chair and sat down in it herself.


    ¡°I¡¯m not ready to forgive you, but I¡¯m done being mad.¡± She put her elbow on the table, and placed her chin on her palm.


    ¡°That''s okay. I wouldn''t forgive me right away either.¡± Diana offered her a half smile and a shrug.


    From his seat, Trevor tossed his head back and groaned loudly.


    ¡°Oh come on! Where''s the Pixie rage?! The flying punches?!¡± He gestured with an open palm at the two women. ¡°Show me some blood!¡±


    Madelynn looked over at him at the same time as Diana. Then their gazes met, and both women nodded. Madelynn was on her feet first, and she made her way toward Trevor.


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    As she walked toward him, her lips curled into a wide smirk. She cocked a brow at him, enjoying the sight of him leaning back into the chair with a tremble. His eyes darted between her and Diana.


    Slamming her hand onto the back of the chair earned her his undivided attention.


    ¡°I think Trevor is lonely. What do you think, Diana?¡± Her head tilted, the smirk falling from her face as she looked at him.


    ¡°Mmm, bored more like. He did say he wanted to see blood¡­¡± Diana folded her arms, tapping a painted nail on the sleeve of her pressed top. ¡°Oh, we could take him to the ladies¡¯ room and-¡±


    ¡°Ahem.¡± Came a gruff cough from the doorway. ¡°If you two are quite done forming an HR visit in the break room, your new department head is here.¡±


    The trio followed their boss, Galvin Brightbeard, to their main office space. He was a stout dwarf with a bald head, and an even balder face. The running joke among the office was that he had to have some human, otherwise he''d be as hairy as any other dwarf.


    He was also the man who had nominated, and then lost, Maddie''s promotion. And she glared daggers into his back as they walked.


    ¡°So, think the new guy will be hot?¡± Diana had to fill the void. Madelynn didn''t glance at her, her eyes narrowing to slits as she watched sweat bead on Galvin¡¯s shiny head.


    ¡°Doesn''t matter. You know the company rules on dating.¡± Trevor shrugged his shoulders, and run his fingers through his green hair. ¡°Besides. He''s probably gay.¡±


    ¡°You think everyone is gay.¡± Diana looked at Trevor with a mixture of disapproval, her mouth grimacing.


    ¡°There is always a chance. Right, Maddie?¡¯ Leaning forward he peeked around Diana and waved a hand to get her attention.


    Madelynn didn''t spare him a glance. She had begun to amuse herself by imaging painting a target on the back of Galvin''s head.


    ¡°I bet I could get a bullseye¡­¡± She hadn''t realized she had spoken out loud until he looked over his shoulder at her. His coal colored eyes seemed to stare into the depths of her soul.


    ¡°I rather you didn''t. In fact, I would prefer you three stay out of trouble. You hear?¡± His gruff voice resonated with his disappointment. Turning off from their group, he waved a hand to the empty spot in the center of their department.


    Madelynn and her friends joined the rest of her coworkers, their small group crowding at one end of the space. Their department was not set up with cubicles and desks, but rather skinny, long tables. They were in two rows on either side of the whole room, and the space in the middle was the area in front of the office of the lead designer¡¯s office. That job was supposed to have been Madelynn¡¯s, and she couldn¡¯t help but scoff to herself as she watched Galvin move to the middle of the room.


    She crossed her arms, tapping her red painted nails against the side of her arm. Her little heel tapped along with it, eyes remaining locked steadfast on her boss. The glances of the department were boring into her, the knowledge of how close she had come - just to fail.


    It stung.


    Like the prickle of needles at the backs of her eyes. Rage fueled the tears that wanted to rush forward, but she blinked it away. She had resolved to face this head on, and show this usurper that she was damn good at her job.


    ¡°Good Morning everyone. I know you all have been anxiously waiting for news on your new Lead Designer after Caitlyn left us earlier this year for her family.¡± Someone cleared their throat in the silence that followed that statement, but no one said anything. ¡°Well, after long debates, and going over many candidates...¡±


    This was the hard part. Madelynn could feel the oozing black rage curling around her heart, and she wished a hole would open at her feet. She would gladly fall into its maw than stand here and listen to Galvin drone on.


    ¡°I am proud to introduce the newest member of our company to you all, so let¡¯s give a big warm welcome to Damien Sullivan!¡± Galvin clapped his hands, urging everyone else to follow suit as he turned toward the office behind him.


    As the door clicked open, the glaring fluorescent light struck the golden highlights of the red hair pulled into a high tail Madelynn felt her heart plummet to the bottoms of her feet, following the red hair to the broad shoulders, encased in the expensive fitting suit.


    She could see out of the corner of her eyes Diana turning to look at her, the color drained from her face. Madelynn couldn¡¯t take her eyes off him, off his lips pulling into a board grin. The feeling of them burning into her flesh was seared into her memory, pulled to the forefront of her mind.


    Watching his hands shake Galvin¡¯s, thanking him for the introduction, she remembered how they felt just the night before as they roamed her body. Caressed her, touched her, gripped her.


    Her arms fell to her sides, useless appendages as the shock washed over her. His face swam perfectly into view as he talked to the gathered group. He hadn¡¯t noticed her yet, and she felt her fingers tremble as they started to curl into fists.


    Madelynn hadn¡¯t felt Diana¡¯s hands on her until she was turned to her friend, who shook her lightly. She slid her eyes up to Diana¡¯s worry creased face, and watched her lips move. She assumed she was asking her if she was okay.


    But how could she be?


    She glanced toward him one more time out of the corner of her eyes, at just the right moment to make eye contact with him. That microsecond where his eyes widened just enough to let her know he saw her felt like eternity.


    Yet he smoothly carried on with his speech, turning his gaze to sweep the gathered crowd.


    ¡°I look forward to working with you all.¡± With that, he turned to head into his office with Galvin. The office that should have been hers. She pulled air in sharply through her nose, feeling herself shake the shock off.


    ¡°That bastard stole my job.¡±

 Job Thief

    Damien stood in his new office, looking around with mild interest. The room was remarkably bare and white for an office in one of the most prestigious fashion companies. Though he knew it would make the colors of the designs pop when presented to him.


    Walking to the desk, he ran a finger over the smooth, industrial style laminate top. He usually preferred wood, but it would do. Though really, all this white needed a splash of color. Even the computer was white, down to the mouse and keyboard.


    Moving back toward the door, he waited to hear his name. Galvin was a nice enough dwarf, though he had told Damien point-blank that he was not his choice for the job. Said it wasn''t his fault, but that he was watching Damien closely to make sure it was not special treatment.


    His lips curved into a smile at the memory of that conversation. Then he heard his name, and he adjusted his tie and tucked on his sleeves before stepping out of the office.


    ¡°Thank you for that warm introduction.¡± He smiled down at the dwarf, shaking his hand with both of his. Galvin merely grunted at him with a nod, but Damien would take it.


    Turning to the gathered crowd, keeping the smile easily plastered on his face, he let his gaze linger on each person as he spoke.


    ¡°It is an honor to meet you all. I am aware that I was not who you were expecting,¡± Already he could tell they''d be a hard crowd to win over, especially with the last name Sullivan, ¡°But I hope with time you will come to accept me as one of your own.¡±


    A flash of pink in the back caught his eye, and he shifted his attention to it for a moment. He''d know those blue eyes anywhere, and he couldn''t help feeling a bit surprised. Then he let it slide, finishing up his short speech.


    ¡°I look forward to working with you all.¡± With that out of the way, he and Galvin headed into the office. As he went in, he was positive he could feel daggers digging into his back.


    ¡°Well, they weren''t exactly the friendliest bunch.¡± Strolling past Galvin, he went to the desk and sat down.


    ¡°They all assumed Miss Fisher would get it, so no one else applied.¡± Galvin sat in the only other chair in the rather barren office.


    ¡°That is a shame. Everyone should have tried for it.¡± Damien clicked the PC on, then focused back on Galvin as it whirred to life. It was painfully loud immediately.


    ¡°She was trained for it specifically, even before the last person who had it left.¡± Galvin leaned back in his seat, seeming to take Damien in for a long moment.


    Damien narrowed his eyes, pondering this as he leaned back as well. His fingers tapped on the service of the desk, eyes sliding to one of the walls, realizing he could sort of see through the white plastic.


    ¡°Then why me?¡± He didn¡¯t want to admit it, but perhaps Galvin was right he had received special treatment. He had suspected it, but he had been firm that he wanted to pass the interview process like anyone else.


    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re good as the boss says, then its because you earned it.¡± Galvin rose to his feet, and turned to head toward the door. ¡°Let us hope that is the case.¡±


    ¡°Indeed¡­Ah, sir.¡± Galvin paused at the door, casting a glance back at Damien as he sat up a bit more. ¡°Which one is Miss Fisher?¡±


    ¡°The Pixie.¡±


    This was bad.


    Damien felt as if the world was plotting against him. Surely this was some sick, twisted irony to his present situation. He paced behind the desk, occasionally glancing out of the window to the world far below.


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    But no matter what perspective he tried to get on this, it was painfully clear that this was bad.


    ¡°Damn it!¡± He cursed under his breath, putting his hands on the desk and staring done at the painful whiteness. With a growl, he shoved the keyboard away from himself and spun back toward the window. It fell off the other side with a clatter that made him wince.


    ¡°Inhale¡­Exhale¡­¡± He murmured to himself, smoothing his hair back as he tried to calm down. His heart thudded wildly in his chest, but it slowed as he breathed.


    There came a sudden light tapping from his door, startling him. Hastily, he started to pull the keyboard back on the desk, hoping to restore some order to his office. The door opened, her pink-purple hair seemed to illuminate the whiteness around her, and the glow of her blue wings was dazzling. She flitted in, closing the door softly behind her, and arched a brow at him.


    He had been struck dumb by her seeking him out first, and was thus awkwardly leaning over the desk, one hand grabbing for the keyboard and the other holding his weight. Then he suddenly straightened, much too fast, and gave a small cough.


    ¡°Madelynn! Do¡­come in. Have a seat?¡± Sweat beaded on his forehead as he realized she was not smiling. Not that he could blame her; after all, this was apparently her job. He¡¯d just have to prove to her he meant no ill will.


    ¡°I would rather not.¡± Madelynn snapped at him, putting her hands on her hips. ¡°Am I some kind of joke to you?¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Frowning at her, he stepped around the desk to fetch the keyboard.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t answer that.¡± Her little hand waved it off, gaze averting for a second. Then she seemed to hyper focus again, rising off the ground to bring herself to his eye level. One dainty finger pressed right into his chest, her face so close to his that her warm breath wafted against him. ¡°Keep what happened over the weekend between us.¡±


    Damien wrapped his hand around hers, his gaze going stony as he regarded her. The thudding of his heart stopped and he felt a chill creep through him.


    ¡°Do you honestly believe I would tell anyone?¡± He narrowed his eyes at hers, watching her own widened as she tried to pull her hand free.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know who you were before!¡± Madelynn gave one more yank and he released her, letting her float back from him. She checked her hand as if for damage.


    ¡°What? A Sullivan?¡± Folding his arms, he leaned back against the desk to watch her.


    ¡°A job thief!¡± Her head snapped around, and she flung the words at him with more venom than necessary.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t steal your job!¡± Damien moved around the desk again, righting the keyboard with one motion that made it even more crooked. He left it.


    ¡°The hell you didn¡¯t!¡± Madelynn raised her voice now, then dropped it to a hiss. ¡°There were other candidates, but as soon as I get word from Galvin I am in, it all changes!¡±


    ¡°And what? You think they made a mistake?! Is that it?!¡± Damien stalked around the desk again, flinging a hand in the air as he ranted. ¡°That I don¡¯t deserve the job?!¡±


    ¡°I deserved the job!¡± Madelynn, her wings flapping wildly, glared at him, both of her hands curled into fists. ¡°I was trained for it for nearly two years! I fought for three more before that!¡±


    ¡°Well someone clearly didn¡¯t think so!¡± Damien shot the words before he caught himself. But the damage was done.


    Madelynn straightened herself up, blinking at him. Then she scowled at him, shaking her head. Her eyes started to glisten, and she took a breath that racked through her whole body. With that, he felt his rage start to subside. Perhaps it was the weekend they shared, but seeing her eyes sparkle with unshed tears made him pause.


    She landed lightly, turning her head away to rub at those large eyes with the back of her hand. Damien reached out, putting his hand on her shoulder.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Madelynn. I don¡¯t know why they picked me, but they did.¡± He tried to pull her closer to him, but she suddenly wrenched away from his grasp.


    ¡°Bullshit. You know exactly why they picked you.¡± When she looked up at him, her eyes were filled with such anger and hurt that he wondered how they had ever been warm to him. ¡°I just hope you¡¯re actually up to snuff.¡±


    With that, she left the office, slamming the door shut behind her. Through the one second of it being open he saw the whole team peering toward his office. Then their faces were once more blurry shapes that moved around occasionally.


    He stood for a moment, staring at that door, wondering if he should chase after her. Logically, he knew everyone had overheard their fight. It was unprofessional at best, and at worst, downright humiliating to have a screaming match in public.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± His large hands, soft from lack of manual labor, rubbed over his face and he turned his gaze to the ceiling. He had royally fucked that up. Where did he even begin making amends?


    Then he frowned to himself as a thought occurred to him. He wanted to make amends, but Madelynn had just burst into his office, and screamed at him. During work hours. It was not a good image, and he hadn¡¯t done anything to warrant it.


    Moving to his chair, he sat down and pulled some paperwork out of his desk to go over. If he and Madelynn were going to make amends, she would have to apologize to him as well.

 The Morgue

    Raymond hated the morgue.


    The cold, sterile walls seemed to close in around him as he strolled down the hall with his partner. They walked in silence, the question of that morning¡¯s doctor appointment hanging in the air between them.


    When they reached the double doors that read MORGUE above them, Raymond yanked the door open and allowed Ward to go in first. He followed after a quick glance either direction down the hall.


    ¡°What do you have for us?¡± Raymond approached the table where the pixie lay, the cloth pulled over her completely at the moment.


    The wizened old form of Dr. Shoe popped up from the other side of the morgue, strolling toward them with more bounce in his step than any man of his advanced years had a right to. Catching his stool with his foot, he hopped on it and slid the rest of the way to the examination table.


    ¡°Well, despite the obvious.¡± He waved a hand to her, then promptly smacked Ward¡¯s hand as he reached for the cloth. ¡°The victim, as we know, was twenty five years in age. So young¡­¡±


    Picking up his clipboard, he adjusted his glasses as he peered at it. Ward glanced at Raymond, rubbing his hand, and the troll offered him a shrug.


    ¡°Yes, yes¡­Just over five feet, female¡­a Pixie of the Aquae variety¡­¡± Raymond held back a groan as Dr. Shoe nibbled at the end of his pen. The man gave a brisk nod, set the clipboard down, and looked up at both of them intently.


    ¡°As you suspected in your report, Detective Raymond, our friend here, was alive when her wings were removed. Like the other two victims.¡±


    ¡°Same M.O. entirely then?¡± Raymond looked down at her through the sheet that clung to the angles of her body in a taut, grotesque manner.


    ¡°Yes. Shame really¡­I am positive her wings would have been beautiful.¡± Setting the clipboard aside, he looked at the two gentlemen for a long moment over his hooked nose. ¡°I do not have much else for you, yet. Still tests to run, and all.¡±


    ¡°Then why did you call us here?¡± Raymond growled at him, narrowing his eyes as he glared down at Dr. Shoe. For his credit, nothing fazed Dr. Shoe.


    ¡°Well, there was one thing¡­¡± Dr. Shoe pulled out what they had on the previous two victims. It wasn¡¯t much, the first one being the smallest of the three. He pulled out the photos, and pointed to cut marks on both of the women.


    They, too, had been pixies, tied and had their wings hacked off. They¡¯d received less injuries than the third victim, though. Raymond assumed it was either that they struggled and fought back less or differently. Or, the darker thought, the killer was starting to get more into enjoying the kill.


    ¡°See, here¡­These ones were made by a right-handed man.¡± Dr. Shoe pointed to where the cut was thicker, and where it thinned out, talking about the way the blood splattered. In his line of work, he¡¯s seen plenty of cuts and slashes to start to notice these patterns over the last few hundred years.


    Pulling the sheet on the body aside finally, he revealed the body of the pixie. She was white here, gray almost in the dim lighting. A tinge of blue seemed to color her lips, and her eyes were closed to the horrors of the world. Where Dr. Shoe had worked could be seen clearly, clear cuts in her otherwise smooth skin that were stapled closed; but it was to the cuts sustained before her death he pointed to now.


    ¡°These cuts were made with someone¡¯s left hand.¡± Dr. Shoe ran a gloved finger along one cut, then glanced up at the two men.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Ward cast a side look to Raymond, who shrugged at him. ¡°Are there two killers?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps¡­Perhaps our killer hurt his right hand. Or perhaps he can use both hands.¡± Dr. Shoe shrugged, and yanked the sheet back up over the body. With that, he turned on his heel and walked away from them, waving a hand over his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll let you know when I finish my testing. Good day, gentlemen.¡±


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    Soundly dismissed, the two headed out to the car in relative silence. Neither of them got in and out quietly, and Raymond took the driver¡¯s seat with a rather harsh bang of the door.


    The engine roared to life, a snarling beast beneath them that rumbled all throughout its frame. It was more of a jeep than it was a car, truth be told, but that suited them just fine. Raymond did not say a word as he pulled out of the parking lot, aiming to get back as quickly as he could. It would be a feat, as lunch rush hour was in full swing, and standstill traffic loomed immediately in their path.


    Ward cleared his throat, glancing out the passenger window. His eyes slid to Raymond, who pointedly watched the line of cars proceed to not move in front of them.


    ¡°So¡­Ray¡­How¡¯d yer appointment go?¡± He gave a small smile more akin to a grimace.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Raymond stretched his neck out, peering around to see if he could spot a break in the traffic. He rather not talk to Ward about his appointment. Instead he wanted to ponder what Dr. Shoe had said about the cuts being made by a left-hand.


    ¡°Ya¡­still mad at me?¡± Raymond closed his eyes briefly as Ward continued to talk.


    ¡°Yep.¡± Raymond flipped his blinker on, moving to merge into the next lane slowly. Someone honked behind them, but he paid them no mind.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Ward looked out the window again.


    The silence stretched between them, an immeasurable blanket that smothered everything beneath it. It left a chill in the air Raymond was not accustomed to when he was with Ward.


    Finally, as Raymond managed to get off that godforsaken road and onto a side street, Ward looked at him again.


    ¡°Look¡­Ray¡­I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to make the Chief doubt ya.¡± His brow furrowed, forming deep grooves in his flesh.


    ¡°She didn¡¯t doubt me.¡± Raymond pulled down another, smaller, side street to avoid more traffic. This wouldn¡¯t get them where they were supposed to be going any time soon, but it¡¯d get them somewhere.


    ¡°Then why ya so pissed at me?!¡± The big orc turned in his seat to glare at Raymond.


    Clenching his teeth, Raymond pulled into the first parking lot he saw and shut off the engine. He rounded on Ward, both their big bulks hard to maneuver in the tight space, thus putting them much too close for proper scowling and glaring.


    ¡°Because it wasn¡¯t your business to share!¡± He roared at Ward.


    ¡°To hell it wasn¡¯t!¡± Ward pointed a large, sausage-like finger at Raymond. ¡°If it compromises our job, it damn right is my business!¡±


    ¡°It was nothing! Like I told you!¡± Raymond pulled his lips back from his tusks, and Ward did the same. Both of them glared at each other, neither wanting to give an inch on the matter.


    ¡°Then what was it?! Because it sure as fuck didn¡¯t look like nothing.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know! A fluke!¡± Raymond tossed his head back, then he ripped off the seatbelt and scampered out of the car. Ward followed, smacking a hand on top of the vehicle.


    ¡°Ray! Get yer ass back here!¡± He called after him, but Raymond merely lifted a hand to flip him off as he headed for the business they¡¯d parked in front of.


    Raymond heard the car door slam, and the thudding feet of Ward chasing after him to catch up. He paid him no mind, that is, until he felt him grab his arm. Whirring to face Ward, he opened his mouth to say something and felt the crunch of the orc¡¯s fist in his jaw.


    The world spun for a moment as Raymond shook himself off. Then he looked at Ward, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Ward lifted both his fists, his eyes dancing with the light of battle.


    With a cry, Raymond charged him, and the two began to exchange fists. The punches landed with loud slapping sounds, and grunts of pain rose from them as stifled as they could make it. Raymond managed at one point to grab Ward¡¯s arm, and yanked the orc close enough to slam his head into his nose.


    Grabbling each other at that point, they fell into a tried and true form of each attempting to push the other away. Feet spread apart, braced against the asphalt to maintain balance and muscles bulging.


    Raymond was the first one to move the other, forcing Ward to take a step back. Sensing victory, he surged onward, aiming to shove his partner out onto the sidewalk. At the last second, Ward suddenly released him, ducking down and out of the way. Surprised, Raymond felt his grip on the other slip and he stumbled onto the sidewalk.


    ¡°Hah! I won, ya dumbass.¡± Ward stood there panting, one hand on his knee and the other wiping blood from his mouth.


    ¡°Cause you dipped.¡± Raymond turned to him, his lungs aching as they sought to fill themselves with fresh air.


    ¡°It¡¯s called a tactic.¡± The orc straightened, and offered a hand to Raymond.


    He stood there a moment, then snorted, reaching out to take his hand. They nodded to each other, giving a firm nod, before Ward yanked Raymond toward him and knocked his head into Raymond¡¯s nose.


    ¡°That¡¯s for my nose.¡± He smirked at him, and Raymond laughed as he rubbed his nose.


    ¡°It looks better that way.¡± Looking at the business, Raymond frowned. It looked like some sort of small shady place, actually, and even Ward looked at it dubiously.


    ¡°...Want to get coffee?¡± Ward glanced at him, arching a brow.


    ¡°Yeah, coffee sounds good.¡± They turned to head back to the car. ¡°Let¡¯s not tell the Chief about that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no. She¡¯d be pissed.¡± Ward shuddered, shaking his head as they climbed back into the car.


    ¡°Who knew someone so small could be so terrifying.¡± As they hit the road again, Ward chuckled lowly.


    ¡°Aye, well¡­She ain¡¯t the Chief for nothing.¡± He nodded his head as if this was the most sage advice he could ever give.


    ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth.¡±

 A Feeling

    Madelynn sat at her table, teeth clenching three pin needles at various angles. In front of her was her work sketchbook, pencil in hand, and next to it was a miniature model of the dress was currently designing. Or butchering, depending on your perspective.


    With a flourish, she took a pin out with her left hand and used it to stab right into the small mannequin''s heart as she drew. Her floofy hair bounced about with her jerking movements as she added something else to the drawing.


    She could feel eyes on her from Diana on one side, and Trevor on the other, but she paid them no mind. Rather, she focused instead on pouring her emotions into this design that she intended to present as soon as possible. It had to be amazing. It had to be packed with rage, hatred, and a bit of a hurt.


    It had to be¡­


    ¡°Maddie, you good?¡± Diana¡¯s hand came on her shoulder, and Madelynn jerked away from her. Spitting out the pins onto the table, she glanced up at her friend''s worry lined face.


    ¡°I am fine. I just have to finish this.¡± Madelynn fought the urge to roll her eyes. Diana was only being a good friend, after all.


    ¡°Well¡­It¡¯s lunch time. If you want to join Trevor and I.¡± Diana offered her one of those smiles that Madelynn hated. It was the kind that was trying to be reassuring, but couldn¡¯t hide the pity behind it.


    And she didn¡¯t need pity.


    Knocking Diana¡¯s hand away with her own, she turned back to her work. ¡°I said I was fine.¡±


    Diana and Trevor stood awkwardly around her for a moment, before she saw Diana¡¯s shoulders slump out of the corner of her eyes. She gave a nod.


    ¡°Right¡­Come on Trevor.¡± They left.


    The silence that followed their departure was heavy, pressing down on Madelynn liked that blanket her sister had gotten as a gag gift. Setting the pencil aside, she placed her elbows on the table and rubbed her temples.


    ¡°Damn it¡­¡± For a moment, she felt like a complete and utter failure. Then she heard the click of the office door and her eyes rose to see Damien coming out.


    Somehow, he had managed to hide inside that office all morning. She had not seen him since their spat a few hours ago.


    Now they stared at each other, him seeming rathered surprised to see her, and her, picturing pouring hot oil on his head. Though that would be overkill.


    ¡°Ah¡­Miss Fisher. I was on my way to lunch.¡± All emotion slid from his face as he got over his surprise. Honestly, that cold, aloof look didn¡¯t suit him at all.


    She leaned back in her chair, cocking her head to the one side rather haughtily as she crossed her legs.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let me keep you.¡± Picking up her sketchbook, she held it up to pointedly block him from her sight.


    ¡°Not at all.¡± He started to walk away, then stopped, turning back to her. She suppressed the urge to groan, but only just. ¡°Actually, Madelynn¡­Would you care to join me?¡±


    Breathing in deeply through her nose, she took a long moment before raising her eyes to stare at him.


    ¡°No.¡± Madelynn leaned over to grab her pencil, and resumed adding a piece of rectangular shaped cloth to the front of the dress she was making.


    ¡°Suit yourself. Just don¡¯t let your neglect of your bodily needs detract from your work.¡± She slammed the sketchbook down to glare after him as he headed out of the department.


    ¡°Who does he think he is?!¡± She snarled as she stood up, leaning over the table to continue glaring after him.


    Then she took a breath and slumped in the chair, lips pursed into a fine line. He wasn¡¯t wrong, but it still pissed her off. Like skipping one meal was going to kill her. Picking up her phone, she checked the time.


    12:15


    With a sigh, she stood up. She could make it to the cafeteria, but she didn¡¯t want to see Diana and Trevor just yet. Though she did feel bad for blowing them off like that.


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    ¡°Hmm¡­I might have time to make it there and back¡­¡± She mused to herself, getting up from her seat. It would take some wing power, but she figured she could make it to the caf¨¦ and back before lunch was officially over.


    Maybe.


    Madelynn made good time, especially since she went out a window rather than go down to the first floor of the building. It wasn¡¯t hard, and frankly, pixies and fairies did it all the time. Power of wings.


    The Hot Spot was popping, as per usual, but she slipped to the back of the line with ease. She had come at a good time when the line was inside the building. It wouldn¡¯t last, but not having to be outside was welcomed by her.


    Taking out her phone, she popped open a Sudoku app, and started up a puzzle. She found playing games like this kept her mind sharp, and as her father always said, it was never too late to keep the old gears turning. He¡¯d know, being nearly two hundred years of age.


    It was well she was playing the app, keeping an eye on the person¡¯s back in front of her, that she felt someone rather large knock into her. In fact, they knocked into her so squarely, that she was actually shoved from the line.


    Spinning around with a cry of outrage, she flapped her wings to bring her up to the man¡¯s height. Which was rather high, considering he was a troll; and on his phone at that.


    ¡°Excuse me!¡± She hissed at him.


    He lifted a hand, telling her to hold a minute, which caused her face to flush with rage. Reaching out, she snatched the phone right out of his hand, and put it to her ear.


    ¡°He¡¯ll call you back.¡± Before the voice on the other end had time to respond, she hit the red hang up button and handed it back.


    That had certainly earned his attention. His green eyes, the color of rich, healthy moss, stared at her with a rather surprised expression. She registered many things very quickly in that moment.


    One, he was a troll. Mountain troll, to be exact. Tall, straight back, with blue tinged skin that reminded her of a boulder freshly doused in rain then twinkling in the morning sun. Short spiky hair, sharp, broad features that suited him and a wide mouth that pulled into a smile.


    He was rather¡­cute.


    But she had to stick to her guns.


    ¡°Cat got your tongue, Pixie?¡± He arched a thick brow at her, tilting his head to the side.


    ¡°Not at all! You knocked me out of line!¡± She snapped at him.


    He blinked, glancing down at where she had been between him and the other person. Then he looked up at her, and snorted out her nose. It was enough to almost send her over the edge.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I was caught up in my phone call, but that¡¯s no excuse for not seeing you, Miss¡­?¡± Madelynn had not been expecting him to actually apologize. He even stepped back a little as he talked, motioning to the spot in front of him.


    She eyed him for a moment, as if expecting him to suddenly sprout three more heads, and start hissing curse words at her. Slipping into the spot, she lowered herself to the ground rather gracefully.


    ¡°Fisher¡­Madelynn Fisher.¡± Adjusting her top, she glanced up at him with an expression that was equal parts distrust and curiosity.


    ¡°A pleasure to meet you, Miss Fisher.¡± He smiled at her warmly; it was the kind of smile that even reached his eyes, though she could tell from the deep lines there he was a troubled man. Warm, but tired. ¡°I¡¯m Detective Raymond Leaf-Thrasher.¡±


    ¡°D-Detective?¡± Her mouth fell agape, then she snapped it shut as her embarrassment rose in her. ¡°Oh no, that phone call¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. It wasn¡¯t work related.¡± He shrugged a shoulder, and she could immediately tell how he averted his gaze that he was lying.


    A detective with a tell.


    He really was cute, and she couldn¡¯t help giggling at him. He glanced back down at her, and the sheepish expression he had on now made him seem younger. More her age.


    The line moved, and they moved with it, waiting in silence for a moment. Then she looked up at him again, head craning back to see him. Trolls were rather massive, especially mountain trolls, but it didn¡¯t help she was only five two.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about hanging up your call.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s quite alright.¡± The detective shrugged his shoulders, then inclined his head toward the front as they made it there.


    She went to make the order, and felt his warmth remaining at her back as she did so. Her cheeks flushed, still feeling rather embarrassed about her behavior. Though, frankly, he did deserve it for not paying attention.


    ¡°A mocha with an extra shot of espresso, soy milk, and a vegan blueberry muffin. A chai latte, extra foam on top, and a green tea with almond milk. Oh, and two cookies - one oatmeal, one chocolate chip.¡±


    As she turned to dig around in her purse for her wallet and card, she felt the man behind her lean over the top of her. She stiffened, preparing to open her mouth to say something when she caught what he was saying.


    ¡°I¡¯m paying for her. Get my usual, and Ward¡¯s as well.¡± His chest rumbled with his deep voice, reminding her of shifting rocks.


    She shook her head. She really needed to stop getting caught up in men. For Pete sake, she had just finished a weekend fling with her boss.


    Oh no. What if Diana was right, and she could be a¡­a¡­promiscuous woman. It wasn¡¯t all bad, but it sounded messy.


    ¡°Wait! I can pay for myself!¡± Madelynn protested as she registered what he said. He looked down at her, and nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯m aware. It''s my way of apologizing.¡± With that, he handed over his card and she frowned up at him.


    ¡°Well, we were even when I hung up your phone.¡± Folding her arms, she followed him to the side to wait for the order.


    ¡°Then you can even us off once more next time.¡± He leaned against the counter, watching the barista¡¯s work.


    ¡°What makes you so sure there¡¯ll be a next time?¡± Flitting her wings, she rose up so she wouldn¡¯t have to kill her neck to look at him.


    ¡°Heh, just a feeling, Miss Fisher.¡± He reached out to take her order as it appeared first, handing up to her. As she took it, she met his rather intense green eyes again. ¡°Just a feeling.¡±