Hi everyone! For once, I held my promise, and I updated when I said I would! Yay!
... Though I kinda had to stop studying for a chemistry exam I have tomorrow to finish this.
That's how much I love you guys. Enjoy!
"Is she dead?" Jane yelped without meaning to. She immediately clasped a hand to her mouth, going wide-eyed.
Charles patted her on the shoulder gently. "Jane calm down. Sara, speak."
"Yes, doctor." The intern muttered painfully, and Jane noticed that it wasn't fake empathy on her face, it was discomfort. "Ms. Isles got out of a successful surgery. She is resting in the post-op room number 011. She's still asleep though. You can go see her now if you want."
"That was excellent Sara, thank you." Charles nodded, dismissing the intern, and turned to Jane. "See? She's fine. Stop trying to bite your finger off." He slapped her finger away from her mouth.
She didn't even notice she was biting her nails.
They walked to Maura's room silently, Jane turning his last words in her head. 'That was excellent, Sara. Thank you.' It seemed so... impersonal, so detached.
"She's one of my best interns." Charles started, sensing the burning unasked question on her lips. "But she has some difficulties addressing families of patients. So I assigned her to news-breaking duty. The best way to overcome a fear is to immerse yourself in it."
Jane nodded wordlessly. He seemed pretty calm and composed for a man whose sister just returned from the dead.
She shook her head. It was probably her dream that was making her question everything. She couldn't exactly remember what it was, but the distorted, blurry images still made her shudder. She was pretty sure it had something to do with Charles, though.
Her thoughts dissipated when she came face to face with the door 011. Charles went in, but she stayed still, rooted in place, unable to move.
Maura was in there. Pale, fragile Maura, who had just survived a surgeon attack, was in there. And she hated her with all her heart. What if she woke up and saw her, then got angry, made her monitors act up? What if-
"Jane? Are you coming in?" Charles asked her curiously, watching her with a raised eyebrow. "You're sweating."
She blushed furiously, clenching and unclenching her fists. They were, in fact, moist. She had never been more embarrassed in her life.
"Yeah, yeah, of course." She took a deep breath. She's faced worse.
As she took a step forward into the room, and faced a body, as pale as a corpse, lying on the bed, hooked up with all kinds of machines, she thought that no, she hasn't faced worse.
"This is agent Alexandra Fields," Cavanaugh mentioned to a small woman with long wavy black hair and green eyes. She waved at them with a dazzling smile, but still, Frost found himself getting angry. They sent their federal dogs to take over. That's the worst insult the FBI could throw at the police dept.
"She'll be assisting in the investigation. We've resorted to using the FBI because their material is far more advanced than ours, and we'll need the best of the best to solve this case and put the son of a bitch behind bars."
"This is agent Jason Hawthorne. He'll also join in as our official liaison with the FBI, and our criminal profiler." A blond-haired man with striking blue eyes and a stern face glared at every single one of them.
Frost's teeth gritted and he could swear he saw the agent smirk.
That made him even angrier.
An hour later, with the two FBI agents gone to fill paperwork, Frost was sitting on Korsak's desk, watching him stroke his new cat.
"That's a first for you." He put his anger aside to focus on the more important here: Korsak's new cat. "You adopted a cat?"
"Yes. This is Hairball. He acts just like a dog. Look." Korsak answered excitedly. He presented his hand to the cat, whispering a 'shake, hairball,' but was only met with a yawn and some more purring from the cat.
"It acts just like a dog, huh." Frost sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. A distraction gone by too soon. If only the cat could do backflips or something, it would've distracted him from his urge to kill the two new agents.
"He does! He's just tired!"
Frost rolled his eyes. "I hate those two new morons. They'll distract us more than anything. Everyone already hates Mr. Glare, and the more... perverted detectives are all hitting on the woman. It's giving us a bad rep, and it's distracting us from the most important, catching the killer!"
"You're right, you're right." Korsak distractedly answered; since he was too busy ogling the female agent who just came back into the room.
"Okay, people, let's get to work!" She clapped her hands excitedly, making Frost groan loudly.
She didn't even look in his direction, but he noticed that the man was glaring at him again.
"I'll need everyone to work on organizing the victims of the Surgeon alphabetically, in a neat, detailed folder. ME notes, crime scene reports, I want everything in there. I'll also need your personal notes."
"Yo lady, you'll probably take all the credit. Why should we give you our notes?" One of the older detectives drawled on, making a few of his colleagues nod their heads in agreement.
"I thought you wanted this man incarcerated and harmless? So unless you've already managed to do that on your own, I'd like your notes now. STAT." She ended her sentence on an icy tone, making the other FBI agent smile.
Frost's lips twitched. Oh, he was starting to like her.
"Get her out of my room. Now."
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