I walked straight ahead towards the bullpen, pressing the entirety of my hands onto the pristine glass doors that served as the only entrance and exit to the room and giving a large shove. People rushed around from desk to desk so fast that most would have assumed this was a newspaper headquarters instead of the main office for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I kept my usually quick pace as the familiar aromas of coffee and paper permeated the room, the former beckoning me, calling on me to drink the whole pot.

But I had other subjects occupying my mind, so instead of going right towards the kitchen, I veered left towards my desk. Grabbing the case file I had been working on, and, dodging people left and right, I walked into the boss's office.

He had barely looked up from his computer when I started talking.

"I solved the Leighton Marcus case," I told him, tossing the file onto his desk. He looked down at the manila folder, then up at me very slowly.

"I gave this to you two days ago," he responded. It was a statement of fact, but I could hear the question in his voice.

Shrugging my shoulders, I said, "I got lucky. I couldn't fall asleep last night, so my mind drifted to the case."

The boss leafed through the papers in the file, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration, as if to discern the possibility of me solving the murder of Leighton Marcus in two days. "You don't even have a partner right now."

"I know."

"There were no witnesses to her murder."

"I know that too."

His pensive brown eyes narrowed, and I could tell he didn't know what to say next. Perhaps he thought that I solved this case too quickly and that I must have missed something. Or maybe he thought I was delusional. He breathed out heavily, and said, "I want you to take a couple weeks off. Go home, go lose yourself in a road trip across the country, or even get on a plane and see the sights somewhere else. I really don't care what you do, as long as it's not here and not related to this job."

Well, this took me by surprise.

I was expecting something more along the lines of "Great job!" or "Wow! You solved yet another murder! You're the greatest agent in FBI history!" But no. I received no praise, and the Boss said no words about the case I had just solved. I did not anticipate the order of a mandatory vacation, so naturally I questioned his authority.

"Sir, with all due respect, you've got to be kidding. I mean, this is really coming out of nowhere."

He smiled a little bit at this. "I am entirely serious."

"But I just solved a murder case by myself in two days. I'm on a role! Why stop now?"

He leaned back in his chair, likely thinking of the best response to get me to stop talking and jet off to some island within the hour. "Agents who overwork themselves burn out fast, and burn outs are of no use to me or the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"You think I'm overworking myself?" I asked. He nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I didn't know what else to say to him because there was no denying the amount of time and effort I put into my work. The number of solved murder cases on my record was nearly tripled compared to that of the next best agent at the FBI. And, to top it all off, I was the youngest agent ever to join the homicide unit of the FBI.

I wracked my brain for any reason to give the boss to let me stay and continue to work. I really wasn't interested in taking a "vacation", or going back to my apartment and watching TV for weeks. I needed something to do, something to wrap my brain around and solve. I need to move, or else my ADHD would drive me up a wall.

"I haven't officially finished this case yet," I told the boss. "Don't you want me to arrest the person who murdered Leighton Marcus? It was her neighbor by the way. He was angry that Leighton never reciprocated his feelings for her, or more accurately, he was quite mad that she never seemed to want to sleep with him. Good old neighbor Doug knew that she spent her Saturdays gardening, and he whacked her on the head with one of her shovels when she denied him yet again."

"How did you figure it out?" He asked me, with genuine curiosity lighting up his face.

"Like I said, I couldn't fall asleep last night, so my mind drifted to the case. I put two and two together when I remembered the way her neighbor Doug told me how Leighton liked to garden on Saturday mornings."

The boss smiled at me again, but I could tell by the way he stood up that I wouldn't be given any new cases for at least a couple weeks. He put his hand on my upper back to usher me out of his office.

"I'll have agents Marlowe and Spade make the arrest. You should go home and start planning your vacation."

"But Marlowe and Spade don't even work homicide cases. Let me at least make the arrest," I argued.

"They've reached a dead end in one of their open cases. Maybe this arrest is just what they need to take their mind off of it, to inspire them to think outside the box," He said as we reached the threshold of his office.

The look I gave him, one that told him that I thought I wouldn't benefit at all from this time off, was the only final thing I could do to implore him to reconsider.

"Look, you're a very fine agent. Your dedication has helped the Bureau and this country in more ways than you know, but I'd also like to keep you this way. Working too many homicides can get to a person, even if they don't see it coming themselves. And who knows, maybe I'll be able to find you a new partner while you're gone."

He gave me a half wave, and then turned back into his office and shut the door.

Great, I thought. What was I going to do for the next two or three weeks? I couldn't leave the country, of course, because what if the Bureau needed me for an emergency? I needed to remain close. But I also refused to sit on my couch the whole time, rotting my brain cells away.

I made my way back to my desk, with some hope that the boss slipped a case file onto my desk saying that he needed me to secretly go undercover. Perhaps he was just trying to throw any eavesdroppers off track, while I was really hunting down a mole in the FBI, or something else intriguing and incredibly top secret.

Alas, there was no case file on my desk, or in any drawers. Trust me, I checked them all multiple times. But right as I was about to leave the office and drive home, someone else caught my eye. More like two someones: Agents Marlowe and Spade.

I technically didn't have any assigned cases anymore, but it didn't hurt to check in and make sure that everything was going well, so I casually walked over to their desks and said, "Hey, guys. Did the Boss update the both of you on the Leighton Marcus case?"

"Oh, yeah," Spade responded. "I just came from his office. He told me to take Marlowe and go arrest her neighbor."

"Great," I said. I hesitated for only a second, but then I added, "Let me just grab my coat and then we can all go over there together."

They both looked up at me and then at each other, not quite sure what to do. "Umm..." Spade mumbled, "The boss said that you were off the case and not allowed to come with us … under any circumstances."

So they knew about his mandatory "vacation".

I looked Agent Spade in the eyes, and then to Agent Marlowe. "Look, you have to let me come. I won't say a word, and I'll even let you make the arrest, even though I was the one to solve the case. I'll be bored out of my mind if I walk out that door, and my destination is not to Doug the murderer's house with you guys."

They looked at each other again, and I knew they were debating which was more important: listening to the boss, or helping out a friend. No words came out of their mouths, but it was easy enough to see that their eyes and minds held a conversation. Their relationship was the perfect example of what a great detective partnership looked like.

Finally they turned back to me, and Marlowe said, "Okay, you can't come with us because I'm not about to get on the boss's bad side, but because you are a dear friend, we're going to help you out and let you look into this simple loose end in one of our open cases."

My natural instinct was to barter with them, but I pushed it aside and accepted their offer. It was better than nothing.

"Alright," Agent Marlowe said. "So the case is about a local drug ring. It runs somewhere along the Washington D.C. and Virginia border, but we have yet to find out where exactly. We had quite a few leads for a while, but they all ran us into dead ends. Now we're running back through the case from the beginning, and combing through every single little detail so that we can finally shut this thing down."

He flipped open the case file and showed me a picture of a beautiful young woman. She had blonde curls framing her face and piercing grey eyes that were nothing less than extraordinary. "This is Annabeth Chase. She is the wife of – sorry – was the wife of the man who we believe had ties to this drug ring. He died in a mysterious car crash two years ago, but we're hoping that she can tell us something that will either connect him to this drug ring or lead us down a path to finally finding enough evidence to end its existence."

Spade snatched the file from Marlowe's hands and flipped to the next page. I hadn't realized that I was still staring at Annabeth until her picture was suddenly gone and I was now looking at a handsome young man.

"This is her husband," Spade told me. He, much like Annabeth Chase looked young and athletic. "We're not sure if he even had a connection at all with this drug ring. So far we've only heard rumors, but we hope that Ms. Chase can give us some information of value. We need you to question her. Here's the rest of the case file. Go over it, of course, before you question her, and then feel free to go to her house and sit down with her. The address to her residence should be in the case file." Spade closed the manila file and handed it to me.

"Thank you," I told the both of them, and I sincerely meant it.

"This is the only thing we can give you," Marlowe informed me with a serious look. "And I expect this to remain under the radar. The boss never finds out."

"My lips are sealed," I said as I smiled at them one last time, turned on my heel, and walked away. I gathered my things from my desk and, after adding another set of hand prints to the pristine glass door on my way out, hopped into my FBI issued black SUV.

I pulled up in front of her house and looked at the case file one last time. Finally I knocked on the door.

I was greeted by the same blonde woman in the photo I glanced at again mere seconds ago. But instead of the gorgeous smile she was wearing in the picture, I was greeted by an incredibly annoyed face. I looked right into her exquisite grey eyes, and almost got lost in them.

"I'm very sorry to disturb you, but I'm Special Agent Jackson with the FBI and I need to ask you a few questions."

I started writing this story years ago but only got a few chapters in. I decided to start over and hopefully finish it! Thanks for reading! Comment please if you'd like!