Being one of the guys was something she held close to her chest. Being the youngest of five children, the rest being boys, being one of the guys came easy to her. Getting boyfriends wasn't hard for her, but the relationships never lasted because she was one of the guys at work and her boyfriends were constantly jealous. She had just broken up with a guy because he couldn't handle it.

But when she walked into work, none of that mattered. Inside that building, she was Detective Veronica Chambers, one of the best in the homicide division. With that badge on her hip, she was close to invincible, and the boyfriends didn't matter to her, because she had a fantastic job and great friends.

"Ronnie."

"Dean." She greeted her partner as she flopped into her desk that was pushed against his and mimicked his relaxed position, feet on the desk and crossed at the ankle.

Dean Ambrose was an attractive guy. He gave off the "bad boy" vibes and didn't really give a shit about anything. His sandy blonde hair was always neatly combed back and his blue eyes seemed to always shine bright, despite the smirk that almost always sat on his face. He was cocky, confident, fit, and really funny. He always knew just how to make her smile on her shittiest days. They'd been partners for five years, the first few months were rocky because he didn't like to let people in and she didn't like that smirk. But once they hit it off, they got close.

"How's the latest shithead?" He asked, tossing her the latest issue of a gun magazine he subscribed to that they both like.

"We broke up about twenty minutes ago." She stated simply, opening the magazine to the page he had dog eared.

"Aw, why?" She looked over the magazine and saw that smirk, meaning that he wasn't at all upset about them breaking up.

"He couldn't handle worrying about the fact that I really only hang out with guys. So I told him that it was so much easier being around guys because they don't give me bullshit drama, and if every time I want to talk to him, he's going to force me into drama, then he could get the fuck out of my life."

"You go, girl!" Seth Rollins, another homicide detective and friend of hers, cheered as he set a cup of coffee on her desk and sat on their joined desks. She took a drink and shrugged, tossing the magazine back to Dean.

"Thanks for the coffee, Rollins."

"No problem, Ronnie."

"Where's Reigns?" Dean asked and Rollins shrugged as Veronica looked over to where Seth and Roman's desks sat, frowning when the large Samoan wasn't sleeping at his desk like usual.

"He didn't call in, so he's either late or fired."

"It's not like Reigns to be late." Veronica murmured, looking up to her coworkers. Dean nodded and Seth shrugged, both catching on to her worried gaze. But it was all washed away when the large Samoan entered the room, eliciting relieved sighs from the three other detectives.

"What?" He asked and Ronnie shrugged.

"I was worried. You're a punctual guy, Reigns." He smiled down at the small brunette and pat her head.

"Don't you worry, beautiful, I'd call if anything bad happened. Rollins, you have paperwork to finish." She smiled up at him and nodded.

"Fuck you, Roman. But yeah, we'll chat later." Dean and Ronnie nodded as Seth hopped off of their desks and made his way to his and Roman's desks on the other side of the large office.

"Since when have you been interested in my relationships?" Ronnie asked and Dean shrugged.

"I just hate it when you cry. You may be a bitch at times, but I do care about you, sweetheart." She smiled and he pointed a long finger at her. "But don't think that I'll be your counselor, you little shit. That'll always be Roman's job." She shook her head with a grin, leaning back in her chair as Dean chuckled.

"I wouldn't ever think that the great Dean Ambrose would want me to cry on his shoulder." He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by their boss, Lieutenant Van Dam.

"Ambrose, Chambers! Triple homicide, two fifty fifty second street, apartment five b." The duo nodded, grabbing their badges and guns and heading out the door quickly and into Ambrose's '67 Impala. They took their sweet time getting there, though, which confused Veronica, but she wasn't going to question him.

"What about your relationship endeavors?"

"What relationships? I'm a 'one night stand with some random whore in a bar' type of guy. You know this, Ronnie."

"What about that patrol cop?"

"She was a lesbian in denial." He explained with a smirk, which made a smirk crawl onto Veronica's face.

"Or you turned her lesbian." He looked over at her, mouth open in shock that she would suggest such a thing. She jokingly pressed two fingers to his chin and closed his mouth. "You'll catch flies like that, hon."

"You're a bitch."

"And you're a dick, funny how great of a team we make."

"Birds of a feather."

"Now and forever."

"You totally just quoted 'Nightmare Before Christmas'." He murmured as they parked near the police cruisers.

"Fuck you, you set me up for it." She called as they exited the Impala and he flipped her off over the hood of the car before they made their way up to the apartment and under the crime scene tape.

"Holy..." Dean started, looking around, but let out a low whistle.

"Shit." Veronica finished, sticking her arm out before Dean accidentally stepped in a puddle of blood that already had a footprint in it.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Did somebody mark this already?" She called to the CSIs on scene and one hurriedly rushed to where they were before they made their way to the first body that was being tended to by the coroner.

"Got a TOD?" Dean asked and the coroner nodded.

"About three am. Neighbors found the bodies."

"Cause of death?" Veronica asked and the coroner looked up at her.

"Blunt force trauma to the head, or maybe the gunshot wound to the stomach. It's hard to tell right now." She nodded and Dean got a good look at the first victim.

"Looks a lot like you, Ronnie."

"Shut the fuck up. That shits not funny."

"Good thing I'm not joking." She sighed and continued to survey the crime scene, Dean hot on her tail. "Are you bothered by that?"

"Let's go question the neighbors who found this, we're not much use in here." Dean nodded and followed her out, taking notice of how nice her rear end looked in those jeans that fit just right.

"You're totally bothered! Dude, what's the matter?" She shook her head an he pressed her against the wall, trapping her with her body. "Ronnie, I'm not doing this with you. Tell me what's up, or stop acting like a little bitch."

"It's just weird seeing someone who looks like you, but dead. I'm kind of shaken, but I can still do my job. I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine, Dean." Dean searched her olive green eyes, looking for any sign that she was lying. He found none, so he nodded and let her go.

"I'm sorry, Ronnie."

"No, you're not, but that's okay." She stated, looking up into his eyes as they made their way down the stairs and to the patrol officers. "Who found the bodies?" A patrol cop pointed to an older woman holding a cat, and she sighed.

"There a problem?" Dean asked and she nodded.

"I'm allergic to cats."

"Alright. I'll get her statement, and you wanna go talk to some of the neighbors?"

"Sounds good." They fist bumped and went their separate ways.

She met him at the top of the stairs, almost slamming directly into him.

"Woah, there, Ronnie." He soothed as he steadied her balance and let her lead him down the stairs once again. She seemed to be in a hurry and stopped her when they reached his car. "Where's the fire?"

"What?"

"You practically ran out of there, Ronnie, what's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"You're lying."

"Can we just head back to the station, please? We've got names and addresses to look up." He sighed and nodded, getting in the car and making a mental note to ask Roman to talk to her and find out what was going on.