First Moments
The first time that you can recall meeting Squalo face to face... was rather memorable to say the least.
The day had started badly – you had slept through your alarm courtesy of the damn neighbour's dog keeping you up all night with it's incessant barking. Then the thermostat on your shower had decided to break, leaving you to be drenched in icy jets, mid shampoo. All of your uniforms just happened to be in the dirty laundry (damn you and your household chore dodging ways...). Oh, and your personal favourite, when you had finally made it in, it just had to be the day that the big boss (and I'm talking top of the food chain here – the Chief of freaking Police) decided to pay a visit to find out exactly how you were getting on as a new addition of the homicide division (only something you had been angling for since you had joined the force at 18...) All of which naturally culminated in you earning a severe dressing down.
"Officer [Last Name], if you cannot cope with the hours required by this division, perhaps homicide is not the right place for you!"
It had taken a lot of grovelling to stop him from kicking your ass out the door right then and there. And, just to rub a little salt in your wounds, after he had finally taken his leave, you had been assigned to desk duty for the rest of the day as punishment.
Life was peachy, no?
If that wasn't enough to drive you to contemplating mass murder, then the fact that you had been forced to spend the last four hours trying to write the same report, while some idiot that your colleagues had picked up dripping with blood just yards away from a murder site (one that you were lamenting not being at) yelled his head off.
Had you cared to think about it, you might have paused to wonder why someone who was so clearly guilty had not been carted off to the cells. Or why instead people seemed to be treating him with respect and thinly veiled fear. And had you cared to listen to the low murmurs of your gossiping colleagues you might have overheard the hushed whispers of 'mafia' and 'Varia'.
As it was however, you were too busy seething about your bad luck to bother questioning, or indeed noticing anyone else's odd behaviour.
"VOOOOOOOOIIIIIIII!"
The twitching of your left eye increased. There it was again. That. Same. Damned. Noise. The bastard had been shrieking the same phrase every 10 minutes since he came in.
Suddenly, something snapped within you. Enough was enough. That idiot had picked the wrong damned day to piss you off!
Face twisted in a bloodthirsty grimace, you jerked upright so fast that you sent your chair tumbling over backwards behind you, pausing only to snatch up your stapler before stalking over to where the commotion was coming from. Kicking open the door to the office, you surveyed the scene before you through slitted venomous eyes.
"[N-name]?" gasped the detective behind the desk, startled by your dramatic entrance and the aura of violent intent that swirled around you.
Ignoring the comment, your searching gaze swept quickly past him to the two men sitting opposite.
"Voi!" spat the one with blood matted, long silver hair, his blue eyes glinting dangerously in your direction, "what the hell do you want?"
Your homicidal aura spiked at the utterance of the same phrase that had been driving you crazy all afternoon.
"You!" you hissed, stepping forwards, immediately dismissing his well dressed companion (who bizarrely appeared to be decorated with small pieces of dead animal... but whatever) as you focused on your prey. Said prey opened his mouth to reply, an irritated, confused expression twisting his features.
Determined not to give him another chance to scream out something else, you darted forwards and gripped the collar of his leather jacket in a white knuckled fist.
"You," you breathed again, bringing your face down so that it was scant inches from his own (now sporting a deliciously startled look). "If you don't shut the hell up I am going to take this," you paused mid sentence to brandish your trusty stapler threateningly in front of his face, "and shove it so far down your throat you'll be shitting staples. Capiche?"
Message delivered and not in the least bit interested in waiting to hear his answer (or for your boss to finish choking on his tongue long enough to fire you for that matter), you promptly released your captive, spun on your heel and stalked back out of the door.
Had you looked back, you might have noticed the amused bloody orbs that flickered from your form as it stomped away to settle tauntingly on his companion.
As it was you had just about made it back to your desk before;
"VOI! What the hell!"
Ah, and just to explain why Xanxus is at the police station - basically Squalo screwed up and let himself get lifted after completing a hit. Xanxus is there (reluctantly) to pick him up and sort things out (read - scare the crap out of everyone and make sure all evidence is 'lost'). :D
Ah don't you just love hate-at-first-sight? ^^
On a side note to explain my updating: I already have a good quantity of these published on Quizilla. I plan to put them up here a few at a time. I might have a regular schedule later but for the moment I just want to hang back and see what people think of these two starter ones.
Let me know what you think!
Reviews = love
