Authors note: #ProbablyNotThatMuchOfAPlotTwistConsideringIHaveAlreadyListedHimAsACharacterInThisStory
The desk was filled with possessions, but the main difference was that there was evidence that she actually worked there (despite the esteemed Nikki Alexander being noticeably absent at present). That's what had changed, that and the photo's were different. The same frames, but different people in them.
One was a photo of Nikki, Leo, and several other people. It seemed to have been taken at a Christmas party; the group had donned Christmas-cracker hats and wore large smiles.
Another photo was of Nikki and a man. The man was tall, blue eyes and dark hair. He had picked Nikki up seemingly moments before the photo was taken, for she was wearing an expression of surprise mixed with laughter as one arm was loose around his shoulder.
If there was ever need for a photographic description of the term 'sublimely happy', then that photo of Nikki and the man would surely fit.
Several nonsensical post-it notes littered the work place, and a few pens were scattered about. In the corner of the desk, a mug stood hidden amongst the photo frames and paperwork, containing one solitary toothbrush.
Huh, some things don't change after all. It was a small comfort, interrupted by a voice coming from the doorway.
"Ah, you must be that professor bloke." It was the man from the photograph, an Irish accent colouring his words, "Thomas' office is the next door over."
His voice was firm, as though it was an order rather than a helpful comment. Odd.
"And you are?"
"Jack Hodgson, forensics," he held out his hand (in what could be viewed as faux politeness), "nice to meet you, Professor...?"
"Cunningham. Harry Cunningham."
