Spinelli sat quietly at her desk writing a statement from her previous case. It was just a robbery, but the paperwork required the same level of scrutiny, so she always made sure to be thorough. The clock on the wall ticked incessantly, loudly. With a sigh she leaned her cheek on her fist and signed her name for the fifteenth time. It was at least eleven o'clock. Everyone else had gone home, and the office was eerily silent. She liked the quiet though. It was peaceful even if it slightly unnerved her. She finished the report and stretched.
After a glance around the room she lifted her left hand and smiled at the glint of the ring on her finger. She had made him promise not to get anything too fancy. The tiny gems were more impressive anyway, the way they caught the light and twinkled like her own personal rainbow. She only liked to fawn over it when she was alone. A feeling that intimate should only be experienced by her.
The office door almost immediately smashed open and a figure walked in. Spinelli stifled a yelp of shock and hid her hand again. The young man who walked in didn't notice her for a moment. He placed down the papers he was carrying on his desk and looked up to see her staring at him.
"You're still here?" he asked. Spinelli smiled.
"Yeah, I still had work to do," she said, "what about you?"
He smiled back at her in response and paused a moment. The clock ticked.
"I still had work to do."
He wandered across to the coffee machine and pressed a button. His auburn hair seemed slightly matted with sweat. Spinelli pulled out some more paperwork and sighed. She picked up her pen and began to fill it in. she could hear the coffee pouring into his cup and felt an emptiness in her stomach. There was silence for a few minutes as she wrote. I should've bought a bag of chips or something, she thought carelessly. More minutes of clock ticking passed and her eyes began to blend the words on the report together. It wasn't much work, but the sheer banal act of it was enough to make her eyelids heavy. Don't fall asleep, she willed herself awake, don't fall asleep.
As if he could sense her fatigue, a light click on her desk sounded as the man placed a cup of coffee on her desk with assurance. She looked up to see his smile.
"Americano, two sugars," he said. She smiled softly, taking the coffee. It made her fingers tingle with warmth. She only realised now how cold they had gotten in the last few hours. The man took his drink and wandered to the entrance of the office, grabbing his bag from under his desk. When he reached the door he turned to her.
"You going home soon?" he asked.
"Yeah, I've not got much more to do really," she responded.
"Night then, Ash," he opened the door.
"Night, Alan," she said as the door closed behind him.

The next morning was rainy. The sky was dark and the air was bitter with cold. Spinelli pulled the window shut and shivered. She wandered back to the bed and flopped backwards, unfolding the note in her hand and rereading it. Geez, boy handwriting never gets better, does it?

Dearest Ms Ashley Spinelli,

I got called in this morning it's a Saturday so if you do anything which isn't fun I'll lock you in a cupboard and throw the key down the back of the bed,

Love, the hottie who liked it so he put a ring on it :D

She ran her fingers over the letters and let out a giggle. You moron, she thought tenderly, even at twenty seven years old he still acts like a child. A smile crept its way over her lips and she let her hand drop onto her heart. Her nightgown was soft and comforting against her hand. Today was too cold, both physically and mentally. She hated days off. What was she to do with them? She had become a cop so that she could work as a cop, not so she could spend her Saturdays drearily indoors doing nothing for anybody.

After a shower, she lugged herself downstairs and switched on ESPN. Lazily, she poured herself a bowl of cereal. As she placed down the box and headed to the fridge, Kirby brushed up against her. The black cat's fur tingled against her leg. Spinelli grinned and lifted her. Much to her dismay, they had decided against naming her "Madame Fist"…he had been concerned it may have been misconstrued.
"Why do we never have any lucky stars, Kirby?" she cooed. The cat meowed in response, before squirming out of her grasp and finding a comfortable place to flop on the floor. She opened the fridge absently, reaching for a bottle of milk that wasn't there. We should have milk…we had milk yesterday…she thought. Maybe it was the milk, maybe it was being alone all day, maybe it was just one of those days. Spinelli slammed the fridge shut and kicked it.
"Hey jackass, we don't have any milk!" she roared, "I told you to get the fucking milk on Thursday!"

TJ smiled at her gently as he assessed the injury on Spinelli's hand. Three gash marks rand along the back of her hand angrily.
"It's just a scratch, it really doesn't need medical attention Teej."
Tj faltered for a second, but cleared his throat and began to collect the first aid box. Spinelli swallowed, she hadn't meant to call him that. She hadn't called him that since the tenth grade. Her cheeks burned as silence surrounded them. TJ closed the medicine cabinet. Spinelli cursed herself.
"You haven't called me that in years," he mumbled too quietly for her to hear.
"What?" Spinelli perked up instantly. TJ turned to face her with a face that made her heart clench. His eyes were so soft, his smile so tender. He had such gentility to him, it was the expression she hadn't seen in years, the one that only she had seen. It was their expression. Don't do that, Spinelli thought. How can I possibly resist when you look at me like that?
"I wish you didn't get so angry Spinelli," he said unexpectedly. Spinelli stared at him.
"She had it coming,"
"did she?"
"You were there, you heard what she said,"
"I also know that she's your best friend," TJ smiled at her fondly, "And I know you're hand isn't the only thing with a few scratches to fix,"
Silence followed. He pulled open the bandage and stroked her hand as he pushed it against her skin. There was something unsettling and yet warm the way Spinelli's heart squeezed. She could hear it in her ears. Her eyes stared at his face, at the masked tension he held in it. His jaw was tight. His eyes had a slight coldness she had never seen on him before as he held her fingers.
"Do you hate me?" The question stopped him. He looked up, stared at her. There was a look of such unbelievable shock that made her feel slightly embarrassed having asked it. The coldness in his eyes immediately left him as he began to laugh. Spinelli ripped her hand from his grasp and folded her arms, facing away from him, hiding her mortification. How dare he laugh? Tj continued to laugh, standing and walking towards the door. After a few minutes, his laughs died down to nothing. He paused, catching his breath.
"Do you really think I could ever hate you?" he asked. They stared at each other. The air was cold. Or maybe she was hot. His smile penetrated her. How could she think he hated her? She stood, and walked to the door. He was taller than she was. Too tall if you asked her. With a smile she stepped closer to him. They were inches from one another. She flipped the lock on the door.
"I don't know," she said before she kissed him.

Spinelli wandered the house aimlessly, trying to will herself to figure what to do with her time. Its not like she could play a board game or anything. He wasn't even home. She'd already seen the wrestling this week – she didn't like watching things twice. Almost as if on cue, the phone rang. Her heart leapt as she ran for the phone. Tell me you're coming home, she thought.
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Ashley Spinelli?" her heart dropped a little.
"This is she,"
"This is the city council's office. The council would like to request a meeting with you this afternoon at two. Is this an appropriate time for you?"
"It depends what it's about,"
"that will be discussed during the meeting,"
"right…why is the council requesting me? I know I'm a cop but that doesn't extend me, like, power,"
"the council have a great record of your hard work, ability and intellectual superiority – also it is a matter concerning you personally,"
"I'm not going unless you at least tell me what the meeting is about,"
She heard a sigh through the phone,
"it's about third street elementary school. The council are considering knocking it down,"

Her brain went blank. Knocking down Third Street? Is that even possible?

"I'll be there."