Hope you guys like this:) I'm updating fairly regularly for you all, which I think is very nice of me:P But it'd be nicer if you could bother to review this, you know:/ I know a lot of you read this so it'd be lovely for you to drop a review or two:) they don't have to be big critiques, reviews big and small are appreciated here:) Well enjoy anyway! Longest chapter yet.

Forces of Nature 3

Huey found himself rooted to the spot as the cinnamon haired, honey skinned Jazmine Dubois rushed towards him in a whirl of energy, flinging her arms tight around his neck as she hauled him in for a hug.

"I've missed you so much Huey! It's been almost a year!"

So someone had missed him.

Huey, despite all screeching complaints from his brain, followed his heart and tried to look casual as he slipped his arms around the skinny girl he cared for more than anything, breathing in her sickly sweet scent of jasmines and wondered how he could have ever thought of leaving her. As he dipped his face into the curve of her shoulder blade for a fraction of a moment, he drank in her smell that haunted him wherever he went, and soon found himself forgetting what exactly he was doing there.

"Hey Big Huey!"

And there it was. The ever-looming greeting from Caesar. The one person who, unknowingly, was slowly ripping Huey's heart to shreds like paper in a machine. The African-American mad was forced to release the beautiful Jazmine from his gentle grasp and step back, straightening out his shirt slightly and praying the creeping blush that had formed on his cheeks was hardly noticeable. The prayer worked on his best friend who, unexpectedly, tugged Huey into a rib-crushing hug that really rather surprised the young revolutionary.

"We all missed you man, not just Jazzy."

Huey patted the Brooklyn man's back awkwardly, unsure of how to reply and so busied himself with the fraying handle of his suitcase. The couple, luckily, did not appear to notice his confused emotions, however, and continued to talk rapidly of their plans as they practically skipped towards their car, Huey trailing at their heels.

"We thought it'd be cool if you stayed with us 'till the wedding Huey. I mean you could go back to your old apartment but it's been dead for months so I figured it'd be super gross," Jazmine pulled a face, clambering into the passenger seat of the car as Huey negotiated with Caesar as to who chucked his suitcase in the boot, "And you get to be with us like, all the time! We'll have two whole weeks to catch up, isn't it great?"

Two whole weeks in Jazmine and Caesar's house? Being around his ex-girlfriend every single day, in the bedroom just next to theirs… He couldn't do it. He simply couldn't. His heart was pounding like he'd just completed a marathon at the simple thought of being in the same neighbourhood as the mulatto girl, let alone the same house. No, he had to stop this. His friends were offering him a place to stay out of a selfless gesture of kindness, he could hardly turn them down. His apartment probably was absolutely disgusting (he didn't want to think about the full mug of tea he had left on the worktop as he left for London ten months ago), and anyway, maybe staying in the same home as Jazmine for two weeks would be annoying enough to put him off her for life.

"Yeah, great."

He had never doubted himself more.

Halfway into the journey, Huey all too soon noticed they were driving through the scene of "the accident" from seven years previously. Caesar was humming, and Jazmine was still chirruping away about small matters in life that Huey did not care about. They both seemed so…so relaxed about passing through his area. Did the events of that day not affect them at all? Not even in the slightest? Did they simply not care? Or was it him who cared far too much?

The couple never noticed Huey's tensed frame, and the sun-kissed young woman contorted in her seat to speak with her best friend face to face, forcing him to listen to her tales of all he had missed out on. When they had finally reached the small two-srotey home the duo owned, Huey was suitably bored by Jazmine's clear recollection of the past year…but even so, he could not stop looking at her. Maybe he just needed to give it a while.

The house, he soon recognised, was the one that Caesar had bought during the last term of University back when they were twenty two. Huey had been inside many a time, but he couldn't recall Jazmine ever moving in. The event must have occurred when he left for London…or perhaps before. Those few months were hazy in his mind, and just trying to remember precisely what happened gave him a severe headache. As he stepped inside, he was attacked with a burst of bright colours, and quickly noted that on her arrival, Jazmine must have redecorated.

"Oh, yeah, you'll get used to that," Caesar grinned as the revolutionary as he blinked at the startling shade of ruby in the modest hallway, "Give it a few years."

Huey made a non-committal grunt in reply, and followed Jazmine's corkscrew curls as she danced up the teal carpeted stairs and along a cream corridor, finally halting at the third door on the left.

"Here's you! Hope you like it Huey, it's just the guest room but Caesar reckoned you'd like it."

As she thrust open the door, Huey braced himself for another rainbow explosion and pondered how he would ever get to sleep surrounded by such alarming colours, and stepped inside to be, honestly, wonderfully surprised. The shag carpet was of a soft fawn, with matching curtains and ivory walls. There was a beige wardrobe slanted casually into a corner, and a king-sized bed at the centre of it all, a chocolate rug at its foot.

"So, do you like it?"

The mocha skinned man gazed to one side to see Jazmine's emerald eyes boring into his, full of hope and uncertainty. He crashed onto the mattress alongside her and attempted to detract his vision elsewhere, nodding silently. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the mulatto woman beam a Cheshire cat grin as she flung her arms tight around him, breathing into his ear.

"I'm so glad you're here, Huey."

Deciding the floor was the best place to look, Huey stifled a smile as he relaxed into the embrace.

So was he.

October 19th 2016

Huey leant against the wood of his bedframe silently, tossing his phone between his nimble hands. It had been over two months since "the accident", two months since his brother had gone missing, and therefore, two months since he had last seen his girlfriend. Jazmine had bothered to try to contact him for the first few weeks, knocking on his door and sending him dozens of text messages, to which Huey had never got around to replying. They wouldn't bring his little brother back; that was the mindframe he had been set in ever since "the accident" occurred.

He had spent the first month desperately searching for Riley Freeman everywhere, notices, missing peoples list, homeless shelters, prison, the internet; you name it, he'd searched it. And there was no trace. No fucking trace of his little brother to be found. But he couldn't give up yet, not yet.

It was almost Huey's seventeenth birthday, and he was deciding whether to finally gather the courage to speak to his girlfriend. He did admit, he felt badly about the way he had treated her the last couple of months, and he was determined to make it up to her as soon as physically possible. Acting upon this decision, the teenager grasped at his mobile and sent a short text to his girlfriend, hoping that would be enough to convince her to see him.

Going to the hill. See you there?

There was a rather pregnant pause filled with the sheer tension of waiting for his girlfriend to acknowledge his existence, before he was granted with a reply.

Of course I'll be there:) xxx

A smile threatened to rise up and surface his face as Huey read and re-read the last message, hauling himself from his bed as he inwardly beamed with the chance that his girlfriend hadn't given up on him after all this time. Tugging on his dusted Converses, the African-American hurtled out of the room he had hardly left for weeks and jogged downstairs to the front door, bursting with anticipation to see his girlfriend at last. He found himself running towards the hill, deciding upon the correct way to apologise time and time again in his head as he went.

As he made his way steadily through the teasing grass, Huey began to make out the tight curls of golden hair that belonged to his self-conscious girlfriend, and so began with his apology, knowing she could hear.

"Look, Jazmine. I know I've treated you terribly these last months and I know I've been a shit excuse for a boyfriend. So, I was hoping we could try again? You know, give it a second go-"

Reaching the height of the hill, Huey froze in his tracks in pure horror as he looked down upon the scene that was unfolding before his very eyes. Jazmine Dubois was indeed here, at the top of the hill. But she wasn't alone.

The mass of dark dreadlocks were the sole distinguishable item that made Huey aware exactly who was sitting with Jazmine…if you could call it sitting. The rest of the boy's features were buried behind the honey frizz of the girl's hair, and as his hands slid lower down Jazmine's waist, the teenage girl seemed to notice they weren't alone, and glanced to her left, breaking the intimate kiss. She stared at the young revolutionist, now clearly her ex-boyfriend, and though his hunched frame gave nothing away, she could see his heart breaking in two in his maroon eyes.

"Huey, I-"

Words began to tumble from her mouth, crushing themselves together and mixing into a haze of emotions that the teenage boy could not begin to pick apart. He could only look from the mulatto's face to Caesar's and back again, before turning away from the horrendous sight and making his way back down the hill, wondering why he had even bothered. Jazmine didn't care about him and his emotions; no one did. She only cared about herself.

Months of ignored phonecalls, texts and blank stares passed before Huey could ever look the mulatto girl in the eye again. He knew she was sorry, and he understood Caesar was too. He was trying to forgive them, but deep down, in the pit of his stomach where the lair of the monster grew, he knew that really, he never would.

Huey arose from his slumber in a state of shock, his breathing haphazard and heavy as he struggled to take in his surroundings. It was still light outside, and judging by the alarm clock on the bedside table, he hadn't been asleep for too long. A note was plastered to the bare pillow at his side, and as he staggered into a sitting position, he began to read.

Evening sleeping beauty!
Caesar and I have just gone to sort out the reception for the wedding, we shouldn't be gone too long. Why don't you have a look round while we're out? I bet everyone really wants to see you again!
See you when we get back,
Jazmine
xXx

Huey stared at his ex-girlfriend's elegant scrawl before slipping the paper into his the hidden pocket in the lining of his fleeced jacket, rising up off the bed. He shot himself a quick glance in the mirror on his way out of the bedroom, and found he couldn't really be bothered to do anything with his untameable afro, choosing to pad around his new home for the two weeks instead. Someone had taken his shoes off, presumably when he was asleep, and he began to ponder as to where they might have gone as he came to a halt at the door directly beside his.

He knew he shouldn't really go into Jazmine and Caesar's bedroom; he didn't want to invade their privacy. But, his heart pointed out as his fingers brushed the doorknob, it wasn't like he was going to look through their things. He just wanted a quick peek, and that was all.

Two minutes.

His brain grudgingly agreed with his hear as he pushed the door open gently, as though making any noise would alert his best friends several miles away. The first thing Huey noticed bout the bedroom, was the fact it smelt heavily of jasmines. It was like wading through a thick fog, the scent was so intense. Huey could remember, in one of their ancient, intense moments that probably only he remembered, Jazmine had informed him of how her mother had always liked the idea of her daughter smelling of the flower she was named after, and that it had become her almost trademark perfume ever since.

Unbeknownst to anyone except himself, Huey actually had in his possession one of these perfume bottles. It was small and round, a perfect sphere, filled to the brim with a translucent saffron liquid, and something the revolutionist had picked up after Jazmine stayed the night at his house and promptly forgot. If ever he was carrying a bag (which was most of the time for his work), the bottle went with him. No matter where he was, Huey realised he would never quite be able to get rid of his ex-girlfriend.

The couple's bedroom was a mixture of lime and foaming whites, and the mocha skinned man only allowed himself to linger for a moment before closing the door firmly behind himself and trotting down the stairs. He soon found his way into a lemon and azure tiled kitchen (two colours that oddly worked well together) that led into an open-plan poppy and coal black living room. Not particularly feeling up to reuniting with old friends and family, Huey tossed himself down onto the ruby sofa and leant against the armrest, taking in the many photographs of the happy couple that positioned themselves around the walls.

He felt sick.

A sudden buzz in his pocket saved him, and Huey dug around for his phone urgently, answering the call at the last minute.

"Hello?"

"Huey!" The voice was deep, familiar, and didn't take the man long to recognise it as the tone of his American boss, "I heard you were back in the States!"

"Only just, Mike."

"Well it's good to have you here. Now, I know it's not the best time, and you'll probably want to be spending these two weeks with your friends, but we've come up with a gem of a case and I think you'll be interested."

"Go on." Huey prompted-he needed as much as possible to keep himself busy, he couldn't risk falling for the mulatto girl his was sharing a home with even deeper.

"Well, it's nothing big, I'll say, but it damn well is interesting," The man on the phone paused almost for effect, a habit he did often and to which Huey had grown used to, "We shouldn't really discuss more here though. Meet me in my office in, say, thirty minutes?"

"Make that ten."

The young revolutionist said his goodbyes and flung himself from the sofa, scrabbling around the lower level of the house to find his shoes. A new case, no matter how small, always lifted his spirits; he felt like a child in a sweetshop, he simply couldn't help it. Think of it as one more step to saving the world, that was the motto he lived by. And saving the world was always at the top of his list of priorities.

Scuffing his way out of the door, Huey pressed a hastily scrawled note into the ornate frame of the hall mirror, desperate to reach the time limit he had set himself. Having no car (Jazmine and Caesar seemingly shared, and his own car was a good walk away in his grandfather's garage) the man was forced to hail a cab, and soon found himself speeding in the general direction of his old workplace, the "secret" headquarters of his particular detective agency that resided on the very outskirts of Woodcrest. After paying his face, the mocha skinned man darted inside the modern, mostly glass building that curved and arced into the sky in the impression of a wave. It was nothing compared to the offices he had worked in during his stay in London, but he had missed it all the same.

After greeting the receptionist with an almost friendly wave, Huey made his way in the lift to the top floor, where of course, his boss' office was located. Mike Hoffman was the man who owned the building (possibly the only building in town not owned by Ed Wuncler), but not only that, he was the agencies best detective by far. And therefore, he was one of the rare people Huey Freeman actually admired and looked up to.

Exactly on time, the African-American skated to the glinting silver doors and knocked hesitantly, before allowing himself inside. His boss was at his usual position; hovering behind his many computers as he beckoned the man forth with a wave of his hand, flicking through information on the multiple screens.

"Glad you could make it, Huey."

"No trouble at all."

Huey slid around the edge of the metal desk that glimmered in the early evening sunlight to stand alongside his boss, watching him look up the correct information curiously.

"Hold on…here."

Mike beamed proudly and stood back to grant Huey the entire view of the main computer, in which held a clear photograph of a man. The person in the image was possibly in his early twenties, most definitely not any older. His skin was of a caressing shade of coffee, eyes hidden behind over-sized dark frames and his chocolate brown hair tugged back into rough cornrows that finished at his shoulder blades, the edges of which seemed brash, as though the lengths of which had been slashed off in a rush. The figure was dressed in a full bodied dark coat and slate shaded boots, attire of which did not seem unusual for snowy weather, which appeared also in the photograph.

In fact, Huey could not find anything usual or remarkable about the image at all. It was simply a man in a coat in the cold. How could a case arise about such a person?

"Now, I know what you're thinking, Huey," Mike interrupted his ponderings, "He looks like an average-Joe, I get that. But he's not. He's no terrorist, he's no government hacker. But there is something."

Huey cocked an eyebrow and leant against one of the glass windows, awaiting the continuation of the explanation for this apparent waste of time.

"There's no record of him. Anywhere. We have no birth records, no next of kin, not known family, no education, not a single thing. When asked for his name and date of birth, the two did not add up. His life is a web of lies that had surrounded him in mystery for so long, and your job, Huey, is to untangle this web."

Feeling slightly intruiged by this point, Huey nodded and leant forward to drink in the image of the seemingly innocent man who was lurking in the snow.

"What's his name? Or do you not even know that."

His retort came out more blunt than he had intended, but his boss knew him all too well and gave a little twinkle in his eye at the question.

"It's Lawrence Escobar."

Now, dear readers, why does that name seem familiar? ;)

Link up the clues and you'll see ;) See ya'll next time!