Thought he had it all
before they called his bluff
Found out that his skin
just wasn't thick enough
Wanted to go back
to how it was before
NIN, "I'm Looking Forward To Joining You, Finally"

The folder struck the desk hard enough to send papers flying, uselessly fluttering to the floor and hands were soon to follow before lithe frame leaned forward, ice-blue eyes narrowing into thin slits. Focused. If it was possible for her to growl she would have undoubtedly began to do so.

"Problem?" Though the tone was dubious, it was also laced with ill concealed sarcasm. Charlotte didn't bother looking up at the irate woman upon the other side of her desk. Her well manicured fingers continued their tapping along the keys of the computer as she typed up an e-mail – upon company time, no less.

"What the hell is your problem?" She couldn't growl, but Christina's words were very near to being a confrontational snarl. "We're supposed to be partners, and you're keeping pertinent information from me? Jesus Christ, Charlotte." Throwing up her hands in exasperation she pressed her fingers through her hair, forgetting for a moment that it was bound back in a braid, then dropped her hand at her side.

"Look. We're supposed to be a team, all right? All this competition bull isn't going to get us anywhere, especially when dealing with this case. I don't know what your problem is with me, but now you're making it interfere with your job – our job. Are we going to talk this out like mature adults, or are you going to continue treating me like I'm not privy to know what stick has been shoved up your tail pipe?"

A minute passed by, then a second before Charlotte was finished with her e-mail, and after sending it off, he regarded Christina with a condescending smile. "Nice speech. You really ought to write something like that down. Could come in handy one day."

Christina pressed her lips thin, then nodded slowly. "Okay. Well. I tried. Don't be surprised if you get suspended or, more deserving, fired."

"Fired?" One coppery brow darted up. Christina had her attention now. "On what grounds?"

Raising a hand from her side her index went up. "Misconduct." Then the middle followed, straightening next to the first. "Withholding information." And a third. "Obstruction of justice. Shall I go on?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," was the cool response Christina gave before snatching up the files and storming out of the office. She couldn't believe all of this was happening. A person that used to be her friend, her partner, was now treating her like some newbie on the force that didn't deserve the time of day. Swallowing a knot within her throat, she fought against the weakening urge to cry; all of the stress was becoming too much.

Taking a few deep breaths and strengthening her spine, she continued her path to the forensics lab and knocked upon the door. Moments later she was introduced to a pair of deep brown eyes and a worried frown. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Raoul," she responded, bringing a Barbie Doll smile to her lips. "Can you come with me? I have a warrant to check out James again and I need you there to help me check out some stuff."

"Yeah. Sure. Um..let me get my things."


She didn't know what she was more annoyed about; the unusual heat that poured over the city, or the fact that she had to drive all the way across it just to get to where Aaron James – husband of the murdered Cecilia – was located.

He was told to remain around his home in case he was brought in for questioning, but with how his attitude had been during this whole investigation, it didn't surprise Christina any that he had gone to visit his sister. He had been more than willing to allow questioning, as well as the search of his house, but his sarcasm was difficult to handle. It was one reason why she was hoping to bust him as guilty. Petty, perhaps, but as the way things were going, she was anxious to jump on the first signs of guilt.

She had been silent during the whole trip, and as if sensing her anxiety Raoul managed to keep his desire for conversation at bay. Only now and again he glanced to her from the corner of his eyes, wondering what was going through her mind as she focused solely upon the road before her; her face knit in a grim frown, and fingers curled tight against the wheel.

The tension was so thick it was almost stifling.

When they had finally gotten there, they went to the back of her car, opening up the trunk to collect Raoul's things from it. Tucking a pair of packaged latex gloves into her pocket, just in case they came across the need to investigate the grounds. She wasn't looking forward to this, regardless of her desire to find out just who had killed the young woman. She could feel the closing of the case coming just around the bend, a sensation that never failed her.

Approaching the door she glanced back toward Raoul who was looking across the yard, studying the area with some interest. Watching him quietly a hint of a smile crossed her lips, the first one since she had heard the news of the fibers last night. Hearing the door open, she turned around to glance back to the house.

"Well, well. And here I thought I wouldn't be seeing your pretty face for a while, Detective."

Christina gave a dry, thin smile and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, glancing past his shoulder then returning her eyes to his face. "We've a few things to ask you, Mr. James. May we come in?"

"But of course. Do you have a war–" He cut off his words as she lifted the folded yellow paper, and giving a mirthless chuckle he moved aside, letting her in with Raoul trailing on her heels.

The questions were routine; she wanted to make sure that he gave the same answers as before and that nothing in his story had changed, not even the smallest detail. As much as she wanted to have her tape recorder going, it was against policy, and though she wanted to get this case solved, she wasn't going to cut corners to do so.

"We'll need to search the house, Mr. James. So if you don't mind..."

"This is my sisters house," he countered swiftly, suddenly seeming disgruntled.

Christina picked on that immediately, and shrugged lightly, keeping her voice even: "We have a warrant, Mr. James. We can always take you in for noncompliance and search anyway."

Not bothering to conceal the glare directed toward her, knowing she was right, he had them wait while he went to speak to his sister. Raoul didn't agree with letting him go talk to her, but with the man in sight there wasn't much he could do; besides, he wasn't the detective here and he had to trust Christina's judgement. When they were finally allowed to roam around the house, they separated so they'd be able to cover more ground. With the small family outside, their progress was unbarred.

The carpet was the first thing that had gotten Christina's attention. A dull teal green that had plenty of wear from the traffic that roamed through the house, and she spoke a moment with Raoul to see if he thought it might have been the same one. A sample was collected to be tested later. Coming across a locked door Raoul called for his pseudo-partner, informing her of this discovery, then she headed out to get the key for the room.

Followed back into the house by it's owner, Aaron's sister, she went to look for the keys to the room, then returned with them dangling from her fingertips. "I keep this room locked to ensure the kids won't go in. I don't want them to get hurt," she informed the two who patiently waited for the door to be opened. Standing aside and clasping the keys in her hand again, the woman watched Christina and Raoul enter the room, only to stop dead in their tracks.

It couldn't be that simple; before them laid the decorative room, filled with medieval and Renaissance weaponry, armor and clothing. It almost looked as if they had walked into a faire booth. A glance was passed between the two before they started curiously looking over the things, their attention immediately going to the weaponry, especially a particular set of kriss blades that caught their attention. Elegant and wavy, Raoul concluded that this type of blade wasn't the same that caused the odd slice across the victim's neck, but he tested them anyway, checking with a combination of chemicals to see if it the blades came up positive on blood spotting.

Unsatisfied with the results, Raoul checked over every single blade he could find within that room. It wasn't until nearly a half hour later did the swab turn a virulent copper red.

"Christina..."

Raising her head and looking away from a Celtic, bone handled dagger, she glanced over to Raoul, every hair standing on end as she regarded the crescent curved blade in his fingers that had been buried within the depths of a box filled with half finished clothing.

"I found Waldo."


The arrest hadn't gone as smoothly as they would have liked, though the back up that had been called before they wandered outside assisted in that endeavor. With the knife taken in it was to be catalogued, tested and dusted for prints, to ensure that it had been the suspect they had taken into custody.

Where the ride to the home had been silent, the one back to the station was another story all together. Life had returned to Christina, and Raoul couldn't help but notice that it seemed as if she was feeling much better, though there was still something there that was bothering her. During their conversation he mentioned the party again, wondering if she could make it for the evening, hesitating again when it came to asking her to go with him.

"I'm sorry, Raoul. But I have to get some rest. I've been stressing myself to death over this and...well. Other things combined just have me exhausted. How about I take a rain check? When the new Captain retires, I'll go to the party, deal?" She grinned over to him and he smiled in return then glanced out of the window, watching the traffic go by.

Once they had gotten back to the building, they went their separate ways with Christina seeking out the fresh face in charge. She found him within his office, hanging up a few photos which, amusingly enough, were of animals instead of family or friends.

He was a lean man, though broad shouldered, clean cut with just a small smattering of gray at his temples. If she had to guess an age she would think by his features alone that he was just a little older than herself. Raising a hand she knocked lightly upon the door's frame, not wanting to startle him out of his photo-hanging trance.

"Mr. Barone?"

Placing down a photo and glancing over his shoulder, a broad smile crossed over the man's face and he motioned her inside. Taking the invitation she stepped further into the office, her hands tucked behind her, loosely held. Unconsciously she clicked the tips of her thumb and middle finger's nail together. "There was an arrest made today on the James case. I was wondering when you'd like the paper work done. I know Mr. Lopes preferred by the next day."

Scratching his jaw he thought quietly, then nodded. "That's fine. You can bring it in tomorrow." Softly laughing he grinned to her. "Besides, it looks as if you could use the rest. Miss..."

"Daniels, Sir. Christina Daniels."

"Ah, I heard about you. Lopes had plenty to say concerning you and your work around here." There was no denying the intrigue within his voice. Vincent made sure to supply him with the names of those that did their job, and ones that could prove to be a problem. It was the least he could do to ensure that Peter started off with some idea of what he was working with instead of jumping unawares into a tank of piranha.

Christina smiled quietly, then shook her head with a shrug. "Just doing my job, Sir. As cliche as it sounds."

"Well, cliche or not, keep it up. Good job on the arrest, Daniels."

Taking that as her dismissal, after all it appeared the man had plenty of boxes to empty out, no doubt filled with files, she turned around and approached the door again. Stepping out she started to close it, but paused, frowning while staring out thoughtfully to the white-washed wall. A dampening of her upper lip and she stepped back into the office, gently closing the door behind her.

"Mr. Barone? If...you have a moment, I'd like to speak to you about something."

Curiously he nodded, then lowered within his desk chair with a light, protesting squeak of leather. Politely he motioned to the chair upon the other side of the desk, but she gave a soft shake of her head. Lowering his hand again, he draped his arm across his stomach. "I'm all ears. What's this about?"

Pulling in a slow breath and closing her eyes to strengthen her nerves, she breathed out a sigh and returned her gaze to him with a frown lacing her brow.

"My partner..."