For this chapter I've changed one thing (or involuntarily a few) to the actual storyline of season 2!

I think I'm now 100% sure where I want to go with this fic,
so I hope you're all just as excited as I am!

Like I said before, I greatly appreciate reviews.
Enjoy!

I impatiently tapped my fingers over the dark wooden service of the desk in front of me. My eyes trailed over every pen, every book, every pencil that was laying there so perfectly ordered and it almost gave me the urge to shift one of the pencils in front of me just a little bit out of place.
Just to see if she would notice..
I slightly turned my head to look at the clock on the wall behind me, 9 am. Or at least that's how I saw it, but for someone like Joan Ferguson it was 8:59 am. I had arrived here five minutes too early and the four minutes I had been waiting now were no doubt the longest four minutes in my life.
There was nothing for me to do but wait. I was alone and the office was dead silent.
My eyes fell upon the little plastic holder that probably stood in one line with the side of the computer behind it. I wanted to take a closer look at one of the business cards that it held and reached out to take one, but I immediately withdrew my hand as I heard the door open behind me. It had to be exactly 9 am.

"Erica.." Ferguson walked up behind me "You were early".

I frowned a little and it was a good thing she did not sit in front of me yet, because my puzzled expression could never appeal to her. "Five minutes.." I carefully retorted.

Ferguson now stood in my line of sight; she looked her usual. Her thick, dark hair was tightly tied back in a bun, her uniform was spotless and her badge shone imposingly. She was cogent and she always held that dismal atmosphere around her.

"That is early." She insisted sternly as she lowered herself in her chair. For a moment it seemed to me she even tried to sit in the exact middle of the seat.

I knew better than to argue and so my only mark of protest was the little twitch one corner of my mouth made.

"We have a few things to discuss." Ferguson's eyes were penetrating. Like a hawk's; that never let its prey slip out of sight. She took a document from a neat pile and placed it in front of her, needless to say parallel to the edge of the desk. It was getting on my nerves.
"I took a look at your file.."

Only now I saw my name written on the front. It made me a little agitated.
Surprisingly enough I had never actually taken a good look at that file and who knew what had been written in it since my resignation? Were we here to talk about me?
We had half an hour before I'd have my session with Franky..

"It looks as though you're a person I can get along with." There was something about the smile I received that made me highly doubt it, but if that was all she had to say about the file, I was perfectly fine with it. "Now, first of all, did Francesca tell you anything at all about drug smuggle or.. any incidents?"

I had tried to subtly collect the information, but apparently my ways were too subtly; I knew nothing more than she probably did. Besides it had only been a week. I knew out of experience that it was by far not enough time to get Franky talking about secret matters. It had taken her half a year to tell me her mother was an alcoholic, let alone that the woman used to quench cigarettes on her skin.
"She is not really an open book." I replied. More like a book with a dozen locks, I thought.

"I figured." Ferguson agreed, but she didn't sound all too patient. "You do understand that we need information shortly. We are trying to do it the nice way now, but should that not work, we will have to do it the hard way."

I didn't know what her definition of the hard way was, but I knew it was definitely no tickling. With this I realized fetching the information wasn't only for my sake, but for Franky's too.
That's also when I realized I had walked into a trap. Of course 'the hard way' was Ferguson's method of preference and I wasn't going to be able to stop her, because we both knew no one would ever get the information out of Franky. Not even me.

"Maybe Franky has nothing to do with it.." I suggested, but of course that made no sense.

Ferguson scoffed and queried, "Do you even believe that yourself?"

Of course I didn't. I knew Franky. I knew she always wanted to stand on the edge of crossing the limits. I knew she was always looking for adventure, for danger and I knew she had everything to do with the drug smuggle, because there was a master mind behind it.
My expression said enough.

"That's what I thought." Ferguson concluded. She folded her hands together on the desk and leaned forward a little, eyeing me sternly. "I know you care for her, but you might want to watch out with that.." it was as though every clearly spoken word went from my ears straight to my stomach, because they made me more nervous one by one.

I didn't know where this was going. She looked at me with such a glance that made me think she knew everything about me. Every little detail, my manners, my methods, my habits, my feelings..
They were so discomforting that I stuttered when I said, "We have no.. I mean, I don't.."

"Don't worry, Erica, I'm sure you're clever enough to keep a professional distance. The last thing we want is growing emotionally attached to a prisoner, not?"

I nodded.
I had no idea what Ferguson was trying to reach anymore. What was her point? Did Franky tell her anything? I saw no reason why she would. I told myself Ferguson was probably just playing a mind game. Until I noticed she was reaching something out to me; open envelopes. I pulled my brows into a frown as I asked, "What's that?"

Ferguson merely nodded at the objects in her hand, insisting for me to take them. I leaned forward and took the envelopes. They all had Erica Davidson written on them in that neat but playful handwriting I instantly recognized. Franky had tried to write me.. and truth be told, I had to force back a smile.

I wasn't sure what exactly to think of it at first. It meant it had been as hard for her to forget about me as it had been the other way around. What should I expect of the content? I couldn't read it from Ferguson's face. She probably wouldn't look any different even if she won the lottery.
I wanted to read the letters inside, I really did but I also really didn't. The envelopes had been opened, meaning someone else had read them too. I suspected it had been the person in front of me.

"Read them and you'll know why I am warning you.."

So Ferguson had read them. And they were bad in one way or another:
I had my suspicions..

I pulled out one of the letters, unfolded it and tried to keep my hands from shaking nervously as I read to myself:

Dear Erica,

You could've told me you were leaving?
I had to hear from Doreen that you were fired. I was pretty upset, you know.
I mean, the other girls all need drugs and shit but I need my one hour of Erica.
The library is such a stupid place without your stunning presence and I really miss hearing your voice.

.. I felt a little flattered so far, but I quite managed to keep on a poker face..

You helped me so much in so many ways. We were a great team, a perfect couple and now you're gone. Did they fire you because of Jacs? You could've done nothing to prevent that..
Shit, we were just getting started, you know? I mean, if I'd known you'd be gone now I wouldn't have left it by just a kiss in your office. Do you think about that a lot? Because I do.

I hope you're going to write me back, but take your time. I've got a few years to wait.

Franky

Ferguson had read this? Was the first thing I thought when I finished reading. That meant she knew about the kiss. If she believed it was a second, but she knew about it. A feeling of panic rose.

"She's quite fond of you." Ferguson said when she realized I was done reading despite I was still staring at the letter. I could feel the tension lingering in the air.

"Apparently." I mused without tearing my eyes from the words. I tried to sound surprised, but that didn't really work out. However the panic combined with the feeling of flattery and perhaps even some mutual fondness didn't show through.

"And she mentions a kiss.." Ferguson's urgent tone had reached a higher level and I could almost literally feel the pressure on my shoulders.

"She must have a very rich imagination." I was surprised at how calm and cold I sounded. It didn't reflect how I was feeling at all. I finally looked up and put the letter on the desk, grimacing shortly.

"Why did she write this to you?" it was like Ferguson wanted to hear something from me. Some sort of confession; she wanted a reason to put me aside. I was absolutely sure of one thing right now: she hadn't agreed with Derek on giving me back my job. Maybe she felt threatened.. or maybe I was the reason she couldn't do things her way, the hard way now. I felt quite proud of that position.

"You're asking the wrong person." I answered innocently.

Ferguson eyed me suspiciously. Obviously I hadn't given her what she was looking for, however that disappointment was hard to detect.

"You can go." She made a dismissive gesture.

"Oh, and Erica.." once I was at the door the sound of her voice stopped me.
".. don't forget what you're here for." She was suddenly all pleased with herself again and I left with the image of a modest grin upon her dark features.

So that was (a very short) chapter 4!
Leave a review if you like. :)
I hope you enjoyed this part as much as I did!

Until next chapter

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