AND I'M BACK IN THE GAME! MY FINAL EXAMS ARE OVER, SO LET'S HOPE I MANAGED TO GET MY DEGREE ON MY FIRST TRY, GUYS! IN THE MEANTIME, SOME DOWNTIME WITH OUR CUTE AND HELPFUL BAKER SHALL MAKE US ALL RELAX - BECAUSE, REALLY, ERWIN IS ONE SCHEMING SON OF A GUN AND WE ALL KNOW IT!
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN SnK!
"You know, these don't really count as cookies. I mean, look at the poor things! They're barely bite-sized!"
Marco shook his freshly-showered head at his partner's antics. They were currently in Colleen's shop, after having cleaned off most of what had clung on them during their trip through the sewers and having changed clothes. Colleen always had several spares for both of them, courtesy of their younger days as officers. They would often go more than 24 hours without sleep between cases, and they would clean up and change at her place, since it was right next to the Headquarters. None of them had ever taken back their dirty laundry, and the baker never reminded them to – in fact, she even made sure said clothes were always clean and ironed.
Why wasn't she married again?
Oh, yeah, now I remember, he thought dryly as his eyes caught the affectionate swat she gave at Jean's wandering hand, who kept stealing the very same chocolate chip cookies he was "pitying". The woman had been in love with his partner ever since she had outgrown her "cooties" phase, and she would settle for no one else. Which was a shame, considering her mad cooking skills, her pretty face, and her sweet, supportive attitude.
The shop was quiet save for the usual sounds of the coffee maker and her tools working endlessly, or with the occasional timer going off. Somewhere from upstairs, her radio praised the Isle of Inisfree in Orla Fallon's lilting tones. The air smelled of chocolate, coffee, and sugar.
Inhaling, he gave a nostalgic smile at his two best friends, who could have so much more, if only they let their inhibitions and stubbornness go. Not that Lyle was one to talk. Having tried his hand at marriage, and coming up dumped and with a child to raise on his own, was not exactly setting a prime example.
He could still remember Annette's face at times. Whenever he dreamed of those few happy months they had together – of what they could actually have had. But he hated those dreams the most, wished for nightmares instead. Wished he could forget altogether.
"Marcoooo", an adorable whine which should in no way belong to an adult female, brought him back to reality. He looked up into Colleen's electric blue eyes which were dancing with mock offense. "Tell Jean that plenty of women like their cookies to be cute and small when they drink their tea and – what's that in your hair?"
Her frown and the way her focus turned on his head had him sighing in disgust "Trust me, you don't wanna know – wait, it's still there?!"
He climbed the stairs like he was on fire, eager to get rid of whatever horror had remained in his black tresses even after all that rigorous scrubbing he had earlier subjected himself to. Her giggles followed him all the way up, and he was about to reprimand her for laughing at his misery, when the shop's door opened, followed with that signature jingle of the bell, and a smooth, quiet female voice asked "Pardon me, I was sent here by Chief Smith to fetch Detectives Kirstein and Bott."
"Oh, certainly", Colleen's voice chirped in her usual sweet way. "Ah, you must be a new addition to the team, then? My name's Colleen. You need coffee, tea, hot cocoa, or anything to snack on, I'm your girl!"
"Very pleased to meet you. I'm Michelle Delgado."
PREVIEW:
"And then we kill him!"
"Not so fast, you dumb fuck. First, we need to reel him in - "
"And then, WE KILL HIM! WITH A KNIFE!"
"Stabbing? That's so out this season, man - I vote for something flashier and classier. All those in favor say 'aye'."
