The day starts out slow, no missions to run or briefings for that matter. I meander into the kitchen, my short brown hair swaying slightly. I grab a coffee cup out of the cupboard and pour some water into the cup. Checking to make sure no one is watching, I opened another cabinet and pulled a bag of hot chocolate mix out of it's clever hiding space in a bag of 'onions'. There's only enough to make one cup left so I place the cup of water in the microwave and let it go for a minute. When the microwave dings, I take the cup from it and pour the rest of the hot cocoa into the water. I grab a slender silver spoon from one of the drawers, stirring the cup vigorously. When the hot cocoa has finally mixed with the hot water, I tap the excess water from the spoon and set it silently into the sink. The warm feeling from the cup is intoxicating and I'm about to take it all in when I see something shinny out of the corner of my eye. I set the cup down and go to investigate the random object. To my dismay, it's just a shinny wrapper. I scowl, walking back into the kitchen to enjoy my hot cocoa. I stop short as my eyes fall upon the cup. The once steamy goodness that filled the cup was now MIA. I let out a small cry and rush over, trying to figure out what happened. Anger, mixed with sadness hits me as I take the cup into my hands. Anger is present as I growl, "Oh, someone is going to be dead REAL soon!" to no one but myself. Just then, Ghost walks in wearing his balaclava, black T-shirt and cargo pants.
He looks at me, raising an eyebrow, "What's up? You sound steamed." He said plainly as he stops a few feet away from me. I toss him the cup which he easily catches with one hand.
"Somebody drank my hot cocoa, that's why I'm steamed." I reply hotly as I watch him look over the cup in his hand.
Ghost gives me a look as he sets the cup down on one of the many counters in the kitchen. "Don't you think this is a little, I don't know, stupid?" he said out front.
I cross my arms and glare at him darkly. "For any other cup of hot cocoa, I won't give a second thought. But THIS was a special cup! My friend, Moli, made me it before I came here and that was the last of it!" I said gesturing with my hands.
He holds the same look he did before as he said, "Can't you just get your friend to make more?" He obviously didn't understand what I was getting at.
So I throw my arms up in the air, my eyes rolling up to the ceiling, "Oh, why didn't I think of that?" I answer back, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "Maybe because care packets can only come from immediate family members!" My arms fall down to my sides in frustration. Ghost mutters a simple 'oh.' I nod, "So now I'm on a mission to find the bastard who drank it. Currently, I don't know what I'll do to that person when I find them…..but it'll be bad." I said as a creepy smile flashes onto my face.
Ghost straightens his back, "Would you like some help?" he said.
Looking at him, I smile and reply, "Of course. Go get me everyone's files." It's simple, short and to the point, because I couldn't let the trail run cold. I see Ghost raise an eyebrow at me in confusion.
"And, why, may I ask, is the reason?" he said, questioning my methods of finding the perpetrator.
I answer him smoothly, "There's a certain ingredient that was in the hot cocoa that I'm sure could deduce who drank it by their allergic reaction. It's a start and hopefully it'll point us to the culprit!" Feeling pleased with my detective smarts and lingo; I guess watching CSI was beneficial. Ghost nods before exiting the room.
A few minutes later
I've been eyeing the cup up, using a magnifying glass to see closer up. I even snatched some clear tape to see if I could find some fingerprints. But to my dismay, I find none. Ghost joins me, carrying the files of everyone in our division of the Task Force.
"What do you see?" he asks, setting the files down on the steel stove. I shrug, feeling my hopes dwindle.
"Absolutely nothing. This is just a damn dead end. Whoever did this either wiped their prints from the cup or used gloves." I answer doubtfully. My eyes catch the files on the stove and I walk over to them, "Ah, you got the files. Good." I mumble as I spill over them, searching for clues. Opening Captain Mactavish file, my eyes fall upon the information list. By allergies, there is only one allergy and I'm pretty damn sure there's no allergy to 'respect less FNGs.' After Mactavish's file, I look through the rest and sigh as I realize none of them have allergies to the ingredient in the hot cocoa. I can feel the trail starting to become cold. This had just gotten difficult as I hated when things got difficult. I mentally go over the list of everyone in the division, crossing off every person whose file I went through. That's when it clicks and the trail is lit up like the fourth of July, revealing everything. Ghost gathers all the files and starts to leave. A smile creeps across my face. "Funny Ghost, I don't remember seeing your file in that stack. Hmm, I wonder why?" I ask, trying my best not to give away what I know.
He looks at me and shrugs, "I haven't the slightest clu-" he answers in his British accent but I cut him off.
"Stow it. I know it was you Ghost. Want to know how? I'll start with the obvious: you're wearing your balaclava. The one you only wear for missions, training OR to hide an allergic reaction to cinnamon! Clever, very clever. Then you wiped your prints off the cup and you neglected to bring me you file! Also, you jumped at the opportunity to help so I wouldn't think it was you." I answer, jumping and dramatically pointing at him, "Now admit it!"
An upward crease forms in his mask where his mouth is as he looks at me. "Ah, so you found me out. You have beaten me, Holmes. Curse you and your detective skills!" he said with fake discouragement, "Now what are you going to do?" He crosses his arms as if to show he could easily over power me with what ever I did.
I smirk as I lean against the counter, "Elementary, my dear Moriarty…there are ways to hurt someone, not necessarily physical pain." I said, one upping him with the quote and name reference.
A couple minutes later
Ghost is strapped to a chair, forced to watch Dora repeatedly, on the verge of a mental breakdown. I smile, "And so it seems I come out of this one. Cover your trail better next time." Mactavish walks in and pauses.
"Um, do I want to know?" he asks, obviously not that interested in the occurrence.
I look at him, "He stole something from me, my hot cocoa. Nobody. Steals. My. Hot cocoa." I hiss, enunciating every word carefully as I feeling my eye twitch slightly.
Mactavish nods, "Well, I'll remember that." He said and looks over to Ghost, "Umm…I think he just died."
"I think so too….no one can stand Dora for 5 hours straight! That's suicide!" I answer back.