Welp, I said I'd be making another modern, this one with a bit of a twist to it. It's an idea I had before, and I further fleshed it out with some friends to see what they thought. Thanks to them and their ideas as well as encouragement, I'm posting this now.

No worries, I'm not dropping the other fics, not in the least. Now that I have more time on my hands, I'll be trying to do more writing. Well, here's to hoping, anyway, heh.

Hope you enjoy; feel free to criticize as I go on, but please be constructive. If the fic sucks, tell me why. Only way I can try to perfect my writing.

Last but not least; a preemptive thanks to my beta readers/editors/PR agents.

There was this girl
Who lived not too long ago
As a matter of fact I think
She lives still
She knew she could do no wrong
Just singin' those songs
That we all knew

She would always crash the party
It was no surprise
It was for her
Stone Temple Pilots, "Too Cool Queenie"

"Earth to Daniels. Come in, Daniels."

It took several tries for the voice to get through the haze of her concentration, but once it had she blinked and looked up from her report, frowning at the sight of the man within her office door. He chuckled deeply, leaning against the frame and crossed his arms over his chest. Glancing at the pile of papers upon her desk he lifted a dark brow, salt-dusted with age.

"Overtime?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Sighing she shook her head and closed the manilla folder with a shrug of her shoulders. "Even when I'm off it's overtime. What's up?"

He shook his head grinning as he stepped away from the door and approached her desk. She pulled a folder away quickly enough, sparing it from being further flattened beneath his backside as he made himself comfortable upon the edge. Curiously he flipped open one of the folders. "Your shift was over some time ago. Though it doesn't surprise me that you're still here. This really has you engrossed, doesn't it?" His brows drew downward as he turned a picture, inwardly grimacing at the gruesome sight that the photo presented. Even after thirty years on the force, his stomach still curdled at some of the crime scenes.

Resting back with a squeaking protest of her chair, she stretched slowly then kneaded her fingers along the back of her neck, looking at the picture he was studying. "Yeah. We've a few leads so far, but they're all coming up with alibis. I still have a feeling that it's her husband. Just have to find something..."

"Christina–"

"Oh, using my first name are we?" She grinned impishly. "That doesn't mean I'm in trouble, does it, boss?"

Closing the folder he chuckled, pressing the documents back to her, which she picked up and cradled close to her chest as if it were a long lost child. The woman had a love for her work, to say the least. "No, but you are off. Hint, hint. Go home, you look like you need the rest," he added, watching her rub her eyes slowly. She glanced over to the clock and blanched at the time. Three am? Where do the hours go?

"Yeah, you're right, Vincent–"

"Oh ho! Using my first name, are we? I'm not in trouble, am I?" He couldn't help but give that poke at her, and grinned broadly as he lifted from the desk taking am moment to straighten out his clothing. She scowled at him. "Ha. Ha. Ha. Anyway, I'll be out in a bit. Just going to clean up here."

"Alright. Oh, and Charlotte said she's going to give you a ride." Chuckling at her groan he shrugged. "I would, but you said my driving makes you motion sick."

"We it does," she conceded. But even that is more of a blessing than riding with that incorrigible woman. Breathing out a sigh she nodded to him and began collecting the various folders to neatly place into her satchel. "Car's going to be out of the shop soon enough," she said more to herself than to him, but he nodded anyway.

"Have a good night, Christina. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night, Vincent. Drive safely." Smirking at him, she shook her head. Him...drive safely? That was like asking a shark not to go after a wounded seal. Tucking back her bangs from her face she pressed them behind her ear, knocking away the pencil she had forgotten was there. Collecting it from the floor and placing it back into the desk drawer, she looked over the work area, then slouched back in her chair again, stretching with a slow yawn.

"You ready yet? I'm dying to get home and out of these shoes."

Christina puffed out a breath in a grunt, and opened her eyes to look over to Charlotte. Employing a smile she nodded and unplugged her laptop to tuck it into its case, then picking it up as well as her satchel, she headed for the door, collecting her jacket on the way. Charlotte moved into the hall with an impatient sigh and Christina did all she could to simply ignore it as she locked her office door and started for the entrance.

"So is it true?" the tall woman murmured side-ward to her, and lifting a brow Christina spared her a glance.

"Is what true?"

"That Lopes is retiring," Charlotte countered, as if she expected her fellow employee to know all the rumors that tended to be going on. The two – Christina and Vincent – seemed to be close enough where he would confide such a thing to her; at least in this woman's mind. Christina only shrugged, not willing to participate within gossip that the other thrived off of. This is going to be a long car ride.

Once they were outside in the crisp air Christina spoke up again, tugging on her jacket as they wandered over to the Nissen, it's lights blinking with the press of an alarm button. "You mind stopping at the market before you take me home? I have to pick up a few things for. Hot Pockets just aren't cutting it anymore."

"I guess."

Well, that was easy, Christina thought, pausing at the passengers side, waiting for the doors to be unlocked.

"I'm going to need gas money, though. These prices are murder lately and I am going out of my way to take you home."

Thought too soon. "Yeah, sure. I'll go to the ATM while I'm in there."

The ride was blissfully silent; if one ignored the off key country singing coming from the drivers side. Christina grinned and bore it, staring silently out of the window until they had reached the market. All too eagerly she climbed out of the car and headed inside, muttering something beneath her breath about dying crows.

The light within the store was bright compared to the glooming darkness outside, and she was glad that, for once, she didn't have a headache. Those had been becoming more frequent since she started working on this case. So many holes and she was trying her best to fill them. Unlike some investigators in the firm she wasn't going to become disgruntled so easily.

Hooking a basket over her arm, she started through the store, purposely skipping over the Hot Pockets and Pop Tarts. I'll turn into one of those things if I eat another. Collecting a few Mama Valerius frozen pizzas, she smirked at herself, shaking her head. As if these are any different from the Hot Pockets. Shrugging she continued on, adding some canned vegetables, fruits, a half gallon of milk and bread into the basket.

Shifting its weight she started off to the check out counter, only to remember her one guilty staple. Turning about she wandered to the alcohol aisle to look over the selections, hoping that they had her favorite bottle. Slowing down as she came to the section she frowned, noting it empty. Figures...Well, maybe it's just time to try something new? Skimming her fingers over the labels she paused upon one and plucked it free, unprepared for the sudden voice behind her.

"Brunello di Montalcino, good choice."

"Shit!" Giving a start, she fumbled with the bottle in an attempt to catch it, only for it to go plummeting to the floor, shattering in a splash of deep red and glass. Sonova... Frowning deeply she cast a glance up and paused, staring into the most gorgeous hazel-gold eyes she had ever seen.

"...That was not supposed to happen."

It wasn't until he spoke did she notice something...off about his face. At first glance someone wouldn't pay it any mind, but upon closer inspection, he was wearing a flesh colored mask. One that covered from brow to jaw, leaving only his chin and lips exposed. Lips that curled into a slow smile.

"Perhaps I should start over?"