Anyone else here watches Criminal Minds? Well, this one was inspired by it.


He could see that she was trying to be brave, trying to stay calm, but he was supposed to be the person being paid to read people, and he could clearly see the rage, the disbelief in her as she choked out her words. "This guy . . . raped and tortured and killed Aria just because she had blond hair and blue eyes?"

Dell wanted a cigarette, but the office was a no-smoking zone. He wanted this woman to see that in this world, there were a lot of sick people. That, he could do something about, and he had long lost his guilt at letting people catch a glimpse into the grey world he saw every day. "Yes. It matches his other crimes."

Her blue eyes flitted towards his own red ones, alarmed. "There's more?"

He could be gentle. He had to learn how to play the 'nice cop' in the Academy – not that he ever was the nice cop, that was Megpoid's job. He chose not to be gentle. This could let her learn more about where she lived in. Better protect herself so she didn't end up like her friend. "Yes, and judging by your appearance, you're probably next."

The blood drained from her face, and he excused himself when he saw Kamui gesturing from outside the office. This was probably the last time he'd speak to her in person.

"Honne, Megpoid wants a word with you."

. . . .

". . .what."

Megpoid gave him her cheerful smile. "We're short on personpower," she repeated, pushing feminism as usual. He had heard her the first time, thank you. "So you're on protection duty for Ms. Kim."

". . . hate you, Megpoid."

"Gumi-chan loves you too, Delly-kun."

. . . .

It was silent in the apartment.

He could work with silent. Within minutes, he had his laptop out and was typing a mile a minute as he wrote up his paper on multiple personality disorder while the blonde stood in the kitchen, making something. The occasional metallic clangs told him there were mixing bowls included, but that was as far as his knowledge on the process of making edible, decent-tasting food went. There was a reason why he'd won the ribbon for Best Bachelor in the Office three years in a row.

Soon enough, though, the sounds of thing scraping against the sides of a metal bowl stopped and instead, the smell – scratch that, the aroma – of chocolate and fudge began to fill the apartment. Dell gritted his teeth and tried to fill his mind with memories of the goriest crime scenes he remembered.

It didn't work.

The oven dinged, and Kim popped her head out from the kitchen. "Would you like a fudge brownie?"

"Did you drug it?" he asked, half-serious. There were, in his career choice, a lot of weird people.

"Yes," she answered, looking completely serious. "With the ancient Kim Family secret ingredient."

The mouthwatering smell was enough to keep him from commenting on the fact that 'Kim' was the most common surname in Korea, where she was from. Instead, he helped himself to half the pan, and then finished his paper with her asleep and leaning on his shoulder.

Those were seriously good brownies, and her hair smelt like vanilla.

. . . .

Megpoid later told him what had happened. While he had been escorting Ms. Kim into the armed car, the team keeping an eye on her had caught sight of a man acting suspiciously. Checking security cameras around the area, they had confirmed that the man had been seen around a few more areas where other women had been taken – Aria Planetes especially.

When the police had approached him, the man had tried to run, pretty much giving himself away. Kamui had tackled him, and Megurine had read him his rights while he was handcuffed and stripped of his weapons – a revolver, three knives, and enough cord to tie down a healthy, struggling woman in her early twenties.

All of that had happened while he had been locking the doors and making sure that the address he was putting into the GPS was correct.

Dell almost felt cheated. Almost. His priorities had been to make sure Ms. Kim was safe from the sadistic rapist, and he had done his duty. Now that the man was arrested, she was safe. Case closed.

He dropped by her house one last time. "I left my bag here," he explained to her in the doorway.

"I know," she reached behind the door and pulled his familiar duffel bag out. "Thank you for everything you did."

"Just my job," he grunted, shouldering it.

She tugged at a strand of hair. "Um. . . can I buy you dinner?"

He stopped. "What?"

She blushed a beet red. "Well, my mother always told me to not be in debt to a person . . . ." she stuttered.

"It was my job. I get paid with your tax money. You don't owe me anything."

"Yeah, but . . . ."

Dell sighed. "If you really feel like you have to, how about some more of those brownies?"

Ms. Kim looked stunned, but then she gave a stunning smile. "Okay!"

"Thank you, Ms. Kim."

"Psh, don't call me that!" she grabbed his arm with a surprisingly strong grip and yanked him back into the now-familiar apartment. "It's SeeU!"

". . . thank you, SeeU."