So I'm kind of testing the water with this fic, it can continue or it can drop off the map like my hopes and dreams. Lemme know if you like or nah.

{M I think? Maybe some smut in later parts- probably}

Disclaimer: Its somewhere around here I'm sure...

Murder was a grisly business for all involved and had it been similar to Cluedo where a few people stood around the body making quaint remarks as a small pool of blood gathered around the victim's head, Cordelia Goode would have enjoyed the crime scenes a little more. Or so she had imagined. This was a far cry- the second one this week in fact and fifth of a trail of murders committed by the socially dubbed 'New Orleans ripper' Did the imaginations of these people know no ends?
The room was small but rather red, large blood stains covered the carpet and cream walls as the mangled body of a Hank Foxx lay motionless and crippled in a messy pile on the floor. Cordelia could barely make out his face but she managed it. She knew Hank briefly and had even dated him for a while- never the less she wasn't exactly saddened nor shocked by Hank's truly brutal murder. He was a dick- he had a lot of enemies.
She squatted down near the body, adjusting her glasses slightly. Multiple stab wounds to the chest, his face was beaten in and a shard of glass stuck out of the back of his thigh, glistening in the sunlight that broke through the window.

"No partner today?"

Cordelia closed her eyes for a moment in frustration "What?" she hissed "Oh, sustained an injury and couldn't make it I'm afraid."

"Right," she frowned "Some of the public outside are demanding answers and I really don't think yellow tape is going to hold them back for much longer before they charge the house and take this place by siege."

She sighed "The tape says 'police line do not cross'."

"Yes, I-I'm aware of what the tape says."

"Then they're not going to cross it are they."

"Its a piece of tape."

Cordelia rubbed her eye "yes and the piece of tape says 'do not cross'."

"That's not going to stop them crossing it."

"No? Have they crossed it?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then they won't cross it."

"But-"

"Officer Benson please let me do my job and if they cross the line then that's your job- understand"

"I'm not five"

"Oh lucky me, I've landed myself with a twelve year old"

Benson opened her mouth to pour out words of anger.

Cordelia squatted again and put her arms over her knees "Don't you have anything better to do other than bother me with troubles that don't concern me? As you can see I am quite busy and I believe you have some play dough to eat."

"Detective I must insist that you give these people ans-"

"Oh cry me a fucking river- Look, I understand"

"You do?"

"No, not really- but at a guess they're shouting and pushing so tell them… tell them there's been a biohazard breach"

"I cant make up an emergency like that!"

"Sorry I thought you wanted to induce mass hysteria"

"No, that's not something I plan on doing."

"Then plan fake information and force it down their throats."

"There are reporters outside."

"Reporters lie too, its fine."

Benson frowned and turned on her heel and left, her shoulders tense and her face -presumably- as red as a ginger left in the sun too long on a hot day.

Cordelia took out her notebook from her back pocket and removed the pencil from behind her ear. Notes- she would need notes and lots of them. Hank being murdered didn't tie up with anything she had- which was nothing in terms of what she needed. this kill busted the case wide open and still, so many people were at risk. Time was of the essence indeed.

Two Weeks Earlier

Green hill view. A small street overall, its attitude and reputation outweighing the populace number. The place was shady and looked reminiscent of a post apocalyptic riot area. Eerie graffiti hung quietly on adjacent decrepit buildings, their drab silhouettes like ghosts on the walls. In fact, the only signs of life on the entire road were small blades of grass stabbed through the cracked pavement- and even they looked they were about to wither up and die.

Misty wrapped her shawl tighter around herself and shifted her backpack further up her back, her eyes darting down one ally to the next- always hesitant to take a corner.

A small piece of paper, now damp with sweat, still clutched firmly in her grip. That was important, she didn't want to lose that, didn't want to get lost, no no no. that wouldn't do.

Misty looked up, then down at the parchment in her hand. Number 57, this was the place- Hopefully.

The house matched others along its street, similar in a sense that a murder could be hiding behind each door. Not that she was paranoid.

Misty took care with each step- afraid the wood may crumble and result in the impalement of her calf, infection would then inset and she would most likely die- something she was trying to avoid- which wasn't a bad idea all things considered.

She pressed the grimy doorbell as it buzzed and waited patiently if not slightly unnerved. She tried to fix her hair a little and wiped the sweat from her palms onto her skirt- maybe she could pass off as presentable.

The door handle turned and was opened by a smaller woman than herself but not by much she doubted, blonde hair loose and straight, glasses and a pencil stuck behind her left ear, its lead core worn away to almost nothing. She frowned skeptically for a moment at Misty who gave a small smile.

"Ad" she said.

The woman furrowed her brows.

"Your ad" She repeated, holding up the paper "I'm here about your ad."

"Oh" she said "Good- yes, my-my, my ad- Ugh, come in-come in."

She stepped aside to allow Misty through who smiled awkwardly- The house wasn't exactly bad looking, it was well kept and neat all in all, bar a few bits and pieces of paper scattered on the floor. They rounded the corner and moved into the living room and that's when misty saw it, the spider graph to top all spider graphs. the entire wall was plastered with papers, pictures and notes, coloured strings and pins centered around one gravitational image, a blurred photo of a silhouette dashing around a corner.

"Its the only photo I have" The woman said.

Misty arched a brow "Are ya a stalker?"

"No- no I'm not" her face moulded into a frown "Do i look like a stalker?"

"What- no!"

"Good, that makes me feel slightly better." she said with a small smile "You can sit down if you like" she extended an arm out to an old pinstriped sofa pressed up shyly against a wall, littered with files and ontop of it all lay a grey cat sprawled out to its extent- purring away like it owned the place.

"Oh-" the woman said "Just move twenty-five and the files out of the way."

"Twenty five?" Misty said placing her bag down and picking up the cat who meowed in protest.

She nodded "He was a kitten and I found him sat on twenty five dollars- I'm not great with names. He's a good cat though, very affectionate"

"yeah I can tell" Misty beamed, sitting down on the sofa and placing the cat onto her lap, it stretched out and nuzzled into her shawl "So- If you're not a stalker then what are ya?"

"Oh right I'm a detective by trade, can't say I'm any good, it sounds big headed."

"You can say it if you want I don't mind"

She shrugged "Im pretty neat"

"That's it? Neat?"

"Look, I'm very very good alright?"

"So that whole-" Misty gestured to the wall, waving her arm around a bit.

"Yes," The woman answered "That's my tracking system, I'm trying to find the 'New Orleans ripper' a rather unoriginal name"

"That's really what they're calling it?"

She nodded looking up at her wall "I'm afraid so- Modern day society has had the imagination ripped out of them"

"So" Misty said awkwardly "The ad?"

"Right yes- the add, You seem nice enough- you're not a messy resident are you?"

"Nah" Misty chuckled with a small shake of her head.

"Then you can stay"

"Really?"

"Yes, of course"

"That easy? ya don't want to ask me if I've killed?"

"Have you killed?"

"Yes"

The detective pointed a finger and squinted an eye "Really?"

"Im a joker" Misty laughed.

"Yes- you'll be fine here."

Misty's face softened "Thank you."

Cordelia smiled her stare lingering a little longer than necessary "Pleasure- ugh- what's your name?"

"Misty Day and you?"

"Cordelia Goode and I must say, its a pleasure to meet you."

1 Week Later

"And we're up to three this week!" Misty hollered from the living room.

"I m aware." Cordelia called back.

"Someone should really stop them ya know?"

"I'm trying my best." she said entering through the archway, Cordelia paused "Aren't you coming?"

"Coming?"

"To the crime scene."

"Oh right- Am I allowed?"

"Who's going to stop you?"

"The police?"

Cordelia waved a hand in dismissal "If you can talk long enough they'll leave you alone"

Misty raised a concerned glance to Cordelia who smiled softly and extended out her hand.

"Come on- It'll be fun."

"Fun?"

She pursed her lips "Fun probably wasn't the best word to use."

"Me and you- yeah- we'll have fun somehow" Misty grinned, taking Cordelia's hand.

Truth be told she was excited to go with Cordelia, it was a thrill to say the least. She knew who was killed, who didn't? It was plastered over tv stations radios and papers alike. It happened all so quickly that society had been practically punched in the nose, still running around disoriented by it all.

Cordelia led misty out of the door and down the driveway into a beat up old 1967 Shelby GT500. It was rusty and a little off centre but there was a certain kind of hype and romanticism about the machine that Misty couldn't quite explain to herself. It made her want to blast some fleetwood mac through the speakers and drive for miles and miles with Cordelia- with Cordelia. Now where did that idea come from.

"You drive stick?"

Misty turned so fast at the sound of Cordelia's voice her neck clicked painfully "Um- no- I've ugh- never drove a car."

"Well that just won't do."

She hesitated "You want me to drive?"

"Yes If i had a death wish- Oddly enough- though many people seem to be under the impression that I do."

"Do you?"

"No" Cordelia answered, stepping into the car.

Misty got in on the passenger side and put on her seat belt. The car roared to life after a small cough from the exhaust as Cordelia pulled smoothly out of the driveway and out onto the ramshackle street.

"It should only take ten to fifteen minutes to get there." Cordelia said turning on the radio.

"Its close then."

"Very actually."

"Is there a pattern?"

"In?"

"Well- the distance, could you -like- circle an area."

"Which would achieve?"

"Well- see- i figure, i would murder people in a couple mile radius because i guess the guy or gal has some kind of beef with something right?"

"I believe so."

"So say all the people you wanted to kill lived in the same area or were situated in that area right, you don't drive a couple hundred miles to kill three -possibly more- people. You move in."

Cordelia glanced quickly over to Misty "That's amazing."

She felt herself flush hot for a moment before shrugging and trying to hide her smile under a few fingers "Thanks."

"Dont thank me, you're brilliant- I observed."

Misty couldn't quite explain it, she was drawn to this woman and her unapologetic bluntness, it was an antithesis of her own life and upbringing. She loved it- her occasional sugar coated sentences laced with a hint of sarcasm and unbound intelligence with still so much potential were magnetic. There wasn't a bad word she could possibly say about this woman- And she didn't want to, but she had tried. Oh yes did she try- tried so hard to think of something that didn't even come close the the essence of perfection in her mind but there was nothing. Granted the woman had flaws, yes- that was true, but nothing seemed to hinder the enigma of one Cordelia Goode.

They pulled up near a house on Cobershill Rise. A nice enough neighbourhood- if you don't count half the residents being drug dealers. But that doesn't matter right?... Right?... Well on the plus side, someone had a bush cut out into the shape of a flamingo- Misty thought that was pretty damn neat and that's all that mattered.

The house they were investigating seemed calm and not much unlike regular housing for the average everyday working class citizen. It was a decent sized, two story home with a flat front lawn and a small pond. That was a nice touch. There was yellow tape sectioning off the entire house and a small gathering of people stood outside, hushed conversations and lulled comments between police officers kept the bickering and curious crowd fairly quiet. a small news crew had arrived and was presenting the spectacle live to an already captivated audience. Oh how fun murder was when it wasn't them with the knife in their back.

Misty felt a hand on her thigh and flinched slightly.

"Ready?" Cordelia smiled as the Cajun turned to face her.

She hesitated "yeah..."

"Very enthusiastic, Misty."

"Ain't I just?"

They got out of the car and no one but a few police officers noticed them with a small glance up from notepads and cameras.

Cordelia strode up to the house, cutting through the crowd like a knife through hot butter, her shoulders shimmying this way and that as she angelically made a path through the crowd- a path Misty followed. They ducked under the tape with a small sliver of guilt entering Misty.

An officer that looked rather young to be in the force approached them.

Cordelia put her lips near Misty's ear "Here we go. Goode!" she mocked.

"Goode!" The officer yelled.

"Benson. A pleasure as always" Cordelia deadpanned, her posture strong and authoritative.

"You're late"

"And you're an idiot but we can't all help these things can we" she smiled.

Benson sighed and arched a brow, pointing a thumb over her shoulder "Go on, they're expecting you"

"I should hope so"

Misty began to follow Cordelia when the officer formerly known as Benson stopped her with an arm.

"You can't go in there."

Misty hesitated, Benson continued to push her back "Delia!" she called out. Cordelia glanced over her shoulder and pivoted on her heel. she was next to Misty in under a second flat.

"Excuse me officer, I do believe that's my partner you are forcing backwards- which also means that you are -illegally- defacing government property."

"You- Miss. move out of my way - Goode have a partner."

"Yes, it shouldn't shock you."

"It shocks me."

"It shouldn't."

"Excuse me?" Misty interjected "but can I go in or not?"

There was a glance exchanged between Cordelia and Benson who, after a few more seconds of Cordelia's heated glare, lifted her arm with an irritated groan and allowed Misty though.

They continued along the lawn as people that were probably important to the investigation passed them.

"Government property?" Misty asked.

"Pardon?"

"Government property-" she giggled "that's what'cha said."

"Do you want the philosophical answer or the sarcastic one." The detective heckled.

She shook her head "Don't worry."

The door window had been smashed and the lock tampered with- most likely a failed first attempt at trying to get in and then a lost temper was the resulting factor. Glass littered the long hallway as they rounded a corner into the living room and there, laying on the floor was the very familiar body of Madison Montgomery.