So I know I haven't updated my other story, Redemption of An Unquiet Soul, but that's because I've been really busy with AP classes and tennis, but I'll update as soon as I can. I had this cute (or corny) little idea for a short story though, so here it is! :) It's in Mal's POV and it takes place in the first few volumes.
To Call Her Nat
As I step onto the docks of Fisherman's Wharf, a cool salty breeze blows by me. The bustling of officers and yellow tape remind me of what I missed while on suspension. Just another day. Just another case. Well, I guess this isn't just any case. Some guy killing girls and making plaster masks on their faces is just messed up. This certainly isn't your typical robbery gone wrong. As I make my way to the crime scene, I'm greeted to the sight of a young girl with a white mask fixed nicely to her face. I exchange some questions with Captain Yeong and then decide to make my way to the body. That's when a young woman steps out from the circle and decides to take a picture. Here we go again.
"Miss, please back away from the crime scene." The woman turns to look at me with the intent to put me in my place. "I would, but that would make doing my job more difficult," she cooly replies as she whips out her FBI badge. My response is to state the obvious. "You're with the FBI?" "You've got a serial killer on your hands, and the Bureau sent me to assist with profiling. Are we going to have a problem?"
I took notice of her for the first time. She was tall, had long dark hair that was as silky as the hair from a shampoo commercial, and, to be blunt, was stunningly beautiful. Not at all, I thought, but I wasn't dumb enough to say that. "Captain?" I think I said that with too much hope in my voice. "I didn't expect them to get someone out here so fast. . . But yes, I heard we'd be receiving assistance from the Bureau. Do me a favor and play nice." That sounded like a yes. Time to turn the Fallon charm on. "I'll try not to bite." I turn my attention back to the woman.
"I'm Detective Mal Fallon." She shoots me a serious straight foward look. "Special Agent Natara Williams." Natara huh? "Can I call you Nat?" If looks could kill, I think she would've killed me. . . multiple times. "You can call me Special Agent Williams." I'm taken aback by her answer, and I look her straight in the eyes. I see a cold wall, built with bricks of seriousness and guarded with indifference. But something else happens, something I didn't expect would happen. In the split second between her answer and my coming response, I looked into her hazel eyes, and I was overwhelmed with a strange feeling. I couldn't explain it. It's like if I had been lost all of my life, looking into her eyes made me feel found. Or maybe it was the other way around. It's confusing either way. I shake it off and continue with what I was going to say.
"Well, Special Agent Williams, mind if I examine the crime scene?" "Be my guest." With that we turn to inspect the body, but the whole time we were there talking about the case, I couldn't help but think about my new partner. She's a mystery, and there isn't anything I wanted to do more than to throw everything down and take her to dinner, so I could ask her a million questions, and maybe figure her out. That wasn't going to happen though, not with her. She was. . . Different. I would have to start slow, chipping away at that wall of hers, so I decided on a simple goal. A mile marker if you will. I was going to earn the privilege to call her Nat.