Oneshot about my favorite character from Phantom of Venice! I tried to get this into the Approval section on the Her Interactive site, but since Nancy isn't the main character, they wouldn't let me post it. :P
I don't own Nancy Drew (or Nico Petit).
IT WAS COLD
It was cold, and became increasingly so. He wished that he had thought to wear his jacket, his favorite brown leather one, the one that he could hardly ever wear anymore. He was glad, though, he hadn't worn the ridiculous outfit that disguised his identity. He would have been much colder wearing that, with the thin material.
He ducked behind a pot of crimson roses. His teeth were chattering, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the chilly wind that bit at his cheeks or the nervousness he felt concerning the possibilities. He could be caught. He could be brought to jail. He could be gunned down.
"E andato via!"
He suddenly knew that he had to move. He hesitated for half a second, then, still in a crouch, scurried across the roof of the building with the red roses. He hopped down to a lower roof, and then leapt across it; he barely caught himself. He would have slammed into the brick wall of the next building over if he hadn't.
He then proceeded to dig his fingernails, already bitten down to nubs, into the cement between the bricks. He sprang up the wall and quickly flattened himself to the ground behind an elongated pot filled with white roses. There were more loud voices, but they were speaking too quickly for him to comprehend.
Bright lights flashing, the beginning of a soft drizzle, a darkening navy sky, and then –
It was over.
It was all over.
He had to know who did it. He had to know who did this to him. As he was slammed against the ground mercilessly, he fought to ask. He had to know. He had to know. But the right words couldn't find their way out of his mouth.
Then again, he didn't even have to ask. He saw her standing there, her strawberry-blonde hair glistening, like a shining beacon in the inky darkness. He saw her speaking into a PDA. He closed his eyes, remembering ripping the locket away from her, from around her fragile neck.
Everything became a blur. And all anyone would know, when they heard about the GDiF's questioning, was that Nico Petit had ceased to exist.