Silver turns in his seat to look at his colleague, garnering a mixed reaction from within himself. Although he admires how neat and orderly Blaze seems, especially this early in the morning, he also can't help but sympathetically trace the tired shadows under her eyes and the lines of stress in her brow.

For now, she keeps her steely gaze on the road and her hands on the steering wheel. She tries to focus beyond herself, on what she deems more important.

The radio plays meaningless, crooning noise.

"Detective?"

She blinks. "Mm?"

"On the way, could I get you some coffee and maybe a little something to eat?" He attempts a smile. "My treat."

Her jaw grows visibly tight, as if she is biting down on a hard, harsh word.

"It's just that I'm still a little sleepy," he adds in a friendly tone, hoping to ease her discomfort, to make her think he does not pity her. "And I'm a little hungry, too. We headed out so early, got the call so suddenly, that I didn't have time to sort myself out back at home."

She drums her fingertips over the steering wheel.

"We could stop at a drive-through if that's okay. It'll only take a few minutes."

"Yeah. Let's do that."

"In some ways, this seems like a dream."

Blaze drinks coffee from a cardboard cup.

"Me, getting to work alongside you." Silver takes a bite from his toasted sandwich, chews for a bit, then swallows before continuing with a smile, "A dream come true."

"Oh, really?"

"Really!"

"I've been told I'm a difficult person. That being abrasive is one of my quirks."

"I've been called difficult, too. I have my quirks. We all do." Silver hesitates, then offers timidly, "I like you, anyway."

"Can I ask why?"

"There are a lot of reasons. Mostly, though, you're a great detective. And a hero."

"Hero?"

"To me and to this city."

"Hero is a strong word."

"You work to keep the people safe, within the bounds of the law. Doesn't that make you a hero?"

"I haven't really thought of myself that way."

"You're modest like that."

"You flatter me."

"I mean it, though. You're a great detective, and you're a hero. My hero." He shyly grins at his breakfast. "You embody almost everything I want to be, someday."

She opens her mouth, then closes it, apparently speechless.

He senses something strange, a change in the atmosphere, and his grin vanishes. He worries he might've said too much. "Detective?"

"You're so naïve, Silver."

"I, uh, I guess I am. Have you told me this before?"

"Maybe," she murmurs huskily. "You're very naïve, but I've grown to like that about you."

His heart skips a beat.

"Don't put me on a pedestal."

"Detective?"

"I can't guarantee that I won't disappoint you. I can fail. I'm far from perfect. You need to be okay with that."

They lapse into uneasy silence for the rest of the drive.

"At a glance, there's little evidence here of a struggle. No overturned furniture, no torn clothing, no scattered belongings."

"Yeah. She seems to have been easily pinned down, not violently subdued – at least, not at first. Even the bed sheets and pillows are hardly disturbed. It's almost as if she just let the killer have their way with her." A sigh. "All the murders have been like that, Detective. As if the victims just didn't fight back."

Gazing upon the partially undressed body, Blaze suddenly has a headache and an unsettling sensation in her gut.

"She's so young…" Silver studies the delicate steel charms that dangle from the chain fastened around the corpse's rigid, pale wrist. "A little younger than me, Detective."

The cat reaches for the tweezers, then gently takes up a cold hand, searching under the fingernails for evidence.

"See anything?"

"Nothing apparent. We can take a closer look at the lab."

"Hopefully, we'll actually find something this time."

Gently setting down the corpse's hand, Blaze glances aside, eyeing an open bottle of red wine that stands on a bedside cabinet between two upright, stained glasses. "What happened here likely did not start out as an invasion of her home. Looks like this was a social occasion."

"And the killer might've been invited over for… whatever it was they had discussed doing. Considering the setting, it's likely it wasn't murder that this girl had on her mind." The hedgehog grits his teeth. "Then again, maybe the killer wasn't invited at all, or didn't come alone."

"You're thinking there was an accomplice."

"Somebody she trusted, yeah, who likely seduced her, got on top of her, and kept her distracted and docile long enough not to make a scene before the killer struck. I mean, the handiwork looks familiar, but the circumstances are strange. This isn't quite like the other murders. What if the killer wasn't alone in doing this to her?"

"The killer has shown no express sexual inclinations toward their victims before, certainly. But, then again, there's been little evidence of the killer having an accomplice before, either. And the logistics of what you suggested seem awkward and clumsy."

"Maybe… this isn't the same killer at all, then. A copycat with a different, more sexual motive, do you think?"

"Either that, or the killer treated this young lady as a special project deserving of special treatment."

Silver makes an agitated, disgusted noise. "I shudder to think."

"And this likely wasn't the first time." Blaze gestures calmly with a gloved fingertip. "Look here."

"Yes, I see." He reaches cross a bare shoulder, hovering over pale scars. "Similar, less serious injuries. Hmm. But it's possible these older wounds weren't inflicted by the killer. She could have a history of abuse or self-harm."

"Except some of these bite marks are situated in places she couldn't have reached on her own. Here, on her shoulder, for example."

"Then, assuming these scars were left by the killer, we can't rule out that…"

"That the killer might've known her a while beforehand." The cat lowers her head. "This may have been a relationship, of some sort."

"And eventually, things between them escalated to murder." The hedgehog pauses for a shaky breath. "Like the killer grew bored with her, or lost control this time, or knew she was considering walking out on whatever it was they had."

"She was likely groomed. Prepared."

"I don't think this was the result of some sick fetish on her side. It's more likely that she was lonely or young or in some other way vulnerable, and that the killer picked on her and messed with her head over time, convincing her that this was okay, or that it was normal, or that she somehow deserved it." Silver doesn't hide any of his bitterness. It seeps into his voice like poison, making him sound strange. "Are you really sure this killer is a person, Detective, and not just a monster wearing a person's skin?"

Blaze wishes she could distract herself in the pattern of the bed-covers.