FINALLY BACK TO RE-WRITE THIS AND GO ON WITH THE STORY. AS ALWAYS, FAIR WARNING, THIS IS AN AU MULTI-OCxCANON FANFIC! THE WAY I ALWAYS WRITE THEM! SO IF IT'S NOT YOUR THING, TOUGH LUCK, GO READ SOMETHING ELSE! THE ONLY KIND OF CRITICISM I WILL TOLERATE IS THE CONSTRUCTIVE ONE! I'M DOING THIS TO GET THE STORY OUT OF MY MIND AND PRACTISE ON MY WRITING SKILLS.

DISCLAIMER: NO, I DON'T OWN SnK OR ITS CHARACTERS! THAT MUCH IS OBVIOUS!

~15 years prior to the storyline~

In a world much like ours, where the only difference is a common government ruling all, there exists a police force stationed in the world capital. The force is rumored to be the strongest yet, the top of the elite. And hidden in its shadows, a team spends each day, fighting the hardest of them all.

The team's code name was Losers- and one of its strongest members was currently dragging his feet towards the force's HQ.

He was a somewhat short man, with his black hair in an undercut and his eyes almost always narrowed to slits. At that particular moment, his face was set in a scowl - not that such an expression was rare for him - and he was grumbling under his breath.

As he neared the entrance to the building, a lovely smell invaded his nostrils. His head snapped to the side, and he nearly wept at the fact that the Old Delights seemed ready to open up.

Changing his course, he crossed the street, and entered the cute little coffee shop. Old Delights was a small, stone building with a wooden roof and wooden frames at the door and windows. A quaint garden limited by a white picket fence surrounded it, full of buttercups, making it look out of place among all those tall structures and businesses around it. An old pear tree offered its shade to anyone who wished to enjoy a cup of coffee or a bite on the old bench under its branches.

He opened the door, and the chiming of the bell as he did so signaled the woman behind the countertop to raise her head from the dough she was rolling and flattening. She smiled at him, her electric blue eyes warming at the sight of his presence. The gesture made some of his irritation fade, though he suspected part of this calming effect was also because of the place. Inside and out, the shop was a homely "corner" in a city full of fast pace and anxiety, giving anyone who walked past its fence warm and fuzzy feelings. The interior of the ground floor - seeing as the upper level was a living space - was a lone room, that consisted of the kitchen and a door that led to the storeroom. The space was torn almost in half by a marble counter, where the owner and chef brewed coffee, prepared treats that were blessed from heaven itself, and serviced the customers.

Speaking of coffee...

He marched up to the counter, grabbed a pot of the still hot, freshly-brewed liquid, and downed it in several gulps. The taste was strong, like a punch to the head, as it always was and should be. The woman knew her way around making a tired man's morning, no doubt about it.

She chuckled, and finally spoke "Good morning, Detective Ackerman.". She then grimaced, bringing her hand to her nose and effectively getting flour all over her face "Oh, dear... This is a powerful smell."

He grimaced, too, disgusted with himself, since this was going against his very being and personal hygiene. She was right, his barman outfit - the one that shitty-glasses had forced him to wear for the mission - reeked of booze, cigarettes, sweat and... other stuff she didn't have to know about.

"Shitty night, don't ask about it. But your coffee really gave a few more hours of life to shitty-glasses to live, so I'll tell her to tip you nicely as thanks for that, Sharon."

"I'll send you some more in an hour - maybe add in the mix some breakfast crostatas if they're ready by then", she grinned, and reached for the shredded cheese by her side. Bless that woman, she always knew what to say.

A couple of energetic feet pounded on the wooden staircase behind her, and they both turned to look at the blonde angel making her way down. She was a cute thing, even as a teenager, with hair that looked like gold whenever they caught the sunrays, and her mother's eyes. Her innocent smile was wide as she greeted him "Hi, Levi!"

"Colleen, darling, it's Mister Ackerman", her mother gently reprimanded her.

The brat ignored her, dashed under the only opening of the counter top, hugged him tight despite his repulsing odor, and rushed giggling through the door. Seconds later, a girlish squeal that sounded suspiciously like "Jean, Marco, you're late!" made both adults shake their heads.

"She's gonna marry one of those boys one day, I swear", her mother smiled, already getting another pot of coffee ready. "Go on with you, Detective, I'll send you your breakfast soon enough."

"Appreciate it", he groaned, turning to leave so that he could finally enter the intimidating building across the street. Fuck, his whole body was sore - and he could already hear shitty-glasses and that fucker, Erwin, bitching about him poisoning half of that bar's low-life scum crowd, though, to his defense, it was their fault he had to endure dirty old fags trying to feel him up all night long.

Good news was, he was scheduled to retire in a couple of months - though, why his superiors did him that favor so early in his career, he didn't know and didn't care. Bad news was, he was really gonna miss Sharon's homemade cooking...

PREVIEW:

"Sir, Armin has started hacking on government confidential networks again!"

"Tell his blonde gay ass to calm the fuck down, coffee is on its way."