Type, pause, coffee.
Type, pause, coffee.
Christine sat stiffly in the brown leather chair. In one hand, a styrofoam coffee cup was encased in a tense, steely grip. The other rested on the cherry wood desk beside her keyboard, occasionally flying up to tap a series of keys. Her almond eyes were intensely fixed on the monitor that sat in front of her. She absently took a sip of the poorly made cappuccino, wincing at the bitter taste.
Her hand moved over to the mouse, then stopped, hovering above it hesitantly. The almond eyes closed gently with a sigh. "Common…" she whispered. Then, her finger shot down and pecked at the plastic mouse button. Silence filled the room as the monitor blacked out, enclosing the room in an eerie darkness.
Random numbers and text suddenly began to fly across the screen at incredible speed. Christine's fist clenched itself tightly to the table edge. "Please…"
PROJECT PHANTOM DNA TEST: FAILED.
She swore loudly and slammed her fist on the desk, her knuckles visibly white.
Five years. Five years she had labored away. All because of HIM. The Phantom. The infamous thief that was at the top of every wanted list in France. Her assignment. Her burden.
Her obsession.
In a number of years, he had managed to rob over 20 banks all over the capital of France. A crafty thief that could outsmart any security system thrown at him. So, security got better. But so did he.
So many times they had come close to catching him, and every time he had managed to get away with his life. The closest anyone had come to seeing his face was the flash of white that disappeared as quickly as it came. And those eyes…the same horrific amber eyes that taunted her through every security camera tape.
Her lids grew to slits. "You're mine," she hissed in vengeance. With a harsh push of the power button on the computer's tower, she began to rub her temples in an irritable manner.
"Don't you think you're going about this whole Phantom business a bit to seriously?"
She groaned. "Go away, Raoul."
"Oh no you don't," came the snorted reply. "I'm treating you to dinner tonight."
Raoul. Christine's friend and partner for countless years. One of the top ranked officers on the force, like herself, he always remained cool, calm, and collected. The two of them had even dated at one time. That is, until he "gently" came out of the closet. After vowing never to date men again, Christine became best friends with him as "partners in crime".
She shook her head and turned the computer back on. "Look, I'm busy right now. Maybe Saturday, alright?" she mumbled.
"Quoted from last week," he replied haughtily. "You're just jealous because you have a non-existent sex life, and you're venting your frustration out on me." With that, he pulled out fold-out chair and plopped down.
"Right. Says the gay man who can't get a date in Paris to save his life," she snickered. He frowned. "I had a blind date last week, if you remember correctly," he said. "Yeah, a BLIND date. Which turned out to be a girl," she replied with a cocked brow.
"That's beside the point. It was still a date," he grinned. "Which, in the end, proved I am more outgoing, so ha, I win." He stuck his tongue out at her at the last comment. She rolled her eyes and began to type in her password. Suddenly, the screen blanked out again. She blinked a few times, and looked over to see Raoul with his finger on the power switch. She glared angrily. "You just don't know when to quit, do y-"
"Daae, come in Daae, we have a 2754 at L'ande Bank. Come in Daae," came the loud crackle from the handheld police radio on the desk. Christine dove for it and fumbled for the correct button. She found it and punched it harshly. "This is Daae, what's the status, sir?" she replied monotonously into the device. Raoul crossed his arms behind her back. "Golly, there goes dinner," he grumbled. She quickly "shush"ed him and turned her attention back to the radio.
The static on the radio grew louder as the chief shouted, "No hostages known of, man suspected to be heavily armed. We thi-shhhhh-the Pha–shhhhhhhhh-Phantom!
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. Raoul quickly started, "Now Christine, let's think logically for a se-" but she was out the door before he could finish. He sighed and looked over at the radio. "I'm gonna break that damn thing," he grumbled as he made he way out the door, too.
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Hey, all, Chelsea-chan here. This is my first POTO fanfic…ever…o-o no hurting.
Review. I respond to all my reviewers
NO REVIEWS, NO STORY! Flames will be used to roast Alyssa with.
