The Angry Flame
By Divamercury
Enjoy Chapter 5, and PLEASE review!
Chapter 5
I woke up at my normal time the next morning, coming out of an odd, Witchblade-induced dream involving Ian Nottingham. I think I broke my alarm clock (again) in the process of pounding it a few times to turn it off. I yawned and stretched, then groggily made my way to the shower. 15 minutes later I emerged, dried my hair, and dressed in my standard issue: jeans, white shirt, black leather jacket. I pulled on my boots, devoured a bagel in record time, grabbed my gear (motorcycle helmet, badge, keys, and gun) off the coffee table and left my apartment, locking the door behind me.
The engine of my motorcycle hummed as I sped through the streets of New York City, ignoring the occasional obscene gesture from those who didn't like my driving style. When I was really late I'd return most of them, but I was on time for once. The roads weren't congested, and thus less painful to drive without the hassle of early AM traffic. I enjoyed the ride that day, because it was just beginning to be fall and the air was crisp, cool, and refreshing to drive in.
I pulled into a parking spot outside the precinct building, getting off the bike and removing my helmet. I shook my head vigorously, which arranged my hair in a more comfortable position, and walked inside. Jake was already there, waiting for me by the door to the main room of the Homicide department.
" Morning, Pez," he said.
" Morning, Jake," I replied, taking a look at him. He looked pretty tired but was cheerful.
"Long night?" I teased. "Hot date?"
He just grinned, making me believe that my theories were correct.
"You have no idea," he said, smiling blissfully. I cracked up, which made his smile wider.
"Well, someone's in a good mood this morning," Jake said. "Normally I can't get you to crack a smile, let alone laugh, before you've had your coffee."
I nodded, agreeing with him as we proceeded inside, and he laughed. Dante shot me a condescending look, and I returned it with a cold glare.
"Chill, Pez," Jake said as we reached the coffee machine.
"I'm fine, Jake. It's just that whenever Dante's around he puts a serious damper on everything." Jake nodded in agreement.
"Well, since you've had such a "long night," I'll get the coffee today. But don't get used to it," I said. Jake smiled (something he was doing a lot of that day) and said, "Thanks, Pez, I owe you."
"Damn right you do. But we'll discuss that later. See you in a sec."
Jake left with an Oh, no,' look on his face. I grinned.
I snagged 2 cups of coffee at the machine and was preparing to return to my office when I felt the Witchblade buzz. I glanced down at it and saw the stone's brilliant red glow. I headed for the nearest filing cabinet and set the cups down, then pulled my sleeve over it until it covered the Witchblade's stone. I then grabbed the cups again and continued on my way, all the while having the strangest feeling that someone was watching me. I could practically feel the piercing gaze on my back. I decided to ignore it and, after many delays, reached my office. I entered and slammed the door behind me.
"It is so hard for a girl to get a lousy cup of coffee these days," I remarked, sipping mine.
Big mistake. I coughed several times, trying not to choke.
"—And that's what this is—lousy," I said between coughs.
Jake laughed until I sent him a Look, still choking.
"Well, if you really want to die, then by all means drink this," I said, my coughs subsiding. He took the coffee from me.
"Uh, thanks, Pez. I think."
"I wouldn't be too sure," I replied. "Could be toxic waste, you never know."
While Jake was pondering this, the door to our office burst open and hit the opposite wall with a bang. Dante was in one of his moods again.
"McCartey, Petzini, we've got trouble downtown. Warehouse district." He left. He's really one to tell you exactly how it is, huh? Unfortunately the words get in his way.
I grimaced. I hated the warehouse district, for that was the area in which a cop could find just about anything that he or she didn't ever want to see. Some of the most gruesome, nightmare-inducing, forensic-team-field-day-causing crimes were committed there, and I preferred to stay away from it as much as I could. Obviously, this was not one of those times.
"Let's roll," I said, and we left the precinct, snagging a patrol car and heading for the warehouses.
"Well, wonder what beautiful picture we'll find today?" I asked.
"Don't get your hopes up. It'll probably be messy—"
"—As all warehouse district crimes turn out to be," I injected.
He nodded. "Yeah, basically."
We found the location without much trouble; there were a lot of forensics team members already there and that many cars in a small area of the warehouse district signaled one thing: homicide. Usually very gruesome homicides turned out to be drug-related most of the time, such as drug deals gone bad. Lots of dealers and other scum got their kicks in the warehouse district, thus the reason for all of my most eye-catching cases.
I found a friend of mine, a uniform named Alcott, and approached him for some news.
"Hey, Al, what happened?" I asked, Jake appearing at my left.
"It's not pretty in there, Pez. Someone really had a field day with something sharp. The investigators think it was a razorblade."
"Okay, so why the big deal? Run-of-the-mill homicide, why did Dante put this much stress on it?" I asked.
"That's the part that no one can figure out. It just seems like a drug deal gone way wrong or something."
"Well, thanks for the info, Al. We'll check it out."
