D3

Authors Note - Changed my mind, Dexter's 37 and Debra's 33 years old

Think I might go with a slight Ranma cross unless peeps prefer he stay female 100% of the time.

The trooper was dumbfounded but Doakes appeared to just be intensely curious. "Well you heard the girl," said Doakes. "Go get her a sandwich." After pausing a moment to make sure he was serious the trooper stumbled off leaving the two of us alone.

"So…" I started without knowing what to say next. "Err, do you want to keep going? I could dust for prints up top? The killer might have grabbed the railing to watch her fall. Or I could grab some gloves and check her for like, the cause of death or whatever." Was I imagining it or was I saying 'like' more often than usual. Actually I couldn't remember the last time I used the word before today.

"You…" he pushed me over to a small boulder on the beach, "are going to sit here and not move an inch until I figure out who you are."

I was going to need a sleeping bag if he was serious about that. I didn't worry though. Now that I'd confirmed it as a homicide my sister would be here soon and straighten things out… somehow or another.

Kicking off the oversized flip flops I dug my toes in the sand. It was an experience that hardly even registered in my memory in the past. Actually that was true of most things that didn't involve blood, or the hunting and killing of my prey. Shadows virtually devoid of emotion, data but no substance. But not this. This simple thing felt real.

Another thing that felt real-ly annoying were my boxers. Just an incredibly bad fit all around, they felt like they were digging grooves into my hips. Finally determined to do something about it I crouched behind the boulder. They chose that moment to split down the back. It would have been more if annoying if I didn't intend to take them off anyways. I'd heard some women wore boxers but these were basically plastered to my buttocks and the less said about the front the better. It was only with great difficulty that I managed to pull them off while crouched out of sight. Wary of what someone might say if they saw me carrying them I buried the boxers in the sand.

"Jesus Dex." I jumped a little as Deb sat down beside me. "I left you alone for one morning and you got yourself arrested. Are you as dumb as you look now or what?"

I bristled at her insinuation. I didn't typically have a lot of emotions but I did have my pride. "He's been stalking me for weeks. He deserved that bag of dog poo."

"A bag of…" her head tilted. "That's what you did? No wonder he didn't want to talk about it."

I put the flip flops back on as Masuka headed towards us. It was better to have more clothes on than less around him even as a man, and that was triply so as a woman. He greeted me from a comfortable ten feet away. "Hey, new girl." His eyes drifted to my cleavage but thankfully didn't linger long. "Your analysis was spot on. Where'd you study?"

I looked to Deb for help but found none. "Err, self-study. Like, the library and stuff. And I borrowed some of Dexter's books."

"You know the Dex-meister?"

"She's his daughter," blurted Deb.

I looked at her in disbelief. I thought she'd gotten over her habit of completely fucking up her words when under pressure. Well, I had to go along with it now. Did I really look young enough to pass for my own daughter? This wasn't going to work. No one would believe that I'd been hiding some secret daughter all these years.

"Hmm, you're a lot prettier than he is."

"Okay." I wasn't sure what to think of that.

"Lay off her Vince, she's seventeen," said Deb.

Jumping off the boulder I pulled her off to the side for a whispered conversation. "I am not a kid."

"It'll keep you from getting hit on as much," she replied. "And if you're lucky Doakes might let you off with a warning if he thinks you're underaged."

I didn't care that she made a bit of sense, I wasn't willing to give up the freedoms that came with being an adult. Still, while I had yet to see my face, reactions from others proved that going by my real age was impossible. Turning back to Vince Masuka I said, "I'm eighteen last Tuesday. Aunt Deb forgot." It felt really weird to call my little sister Aunt but I went with it. I'd been acting for decades, this was just a slightly different role. "Call me D."

"Legal, awesome." He adjusted his glasses which I knew was preparation for a joke, likely a bad one. "Dexter, Debra, Dee. You Morgans are big fans of the D, aren't you."

He did not just hip thrust at me. Maybe I should have gone with Deb's idea after all.

"So, Masuka," said Debra. "Can she follow along with you? Dexter told me to watch her today but I had to go to work. Next thing I knew she threw dog shit in Doakes' car. Keep an eye on her for me?" She walked off and left me to the wolf without waiting for an answer.

Masuka gave me a once-over. "Hmm, a troublemaker. Well, just don't mess up the crime scene and you can cause whatever mischief you want."

From there things quieted down. Masuka even let me use the high-resolution camera which made me feel almost normal. The camera got heavy before too long though. My arms were rather pitifully weak. Still, I was feeling confident. Initially Masuka had started lecturing me about everything forensic but after I started completing his sentences he switched to quizzing me instead. Embarrassingly I was rusty on a number of topics (alas, the perils of specialization) which made me look like a bit of a schmuck but when it came to blood I was flawless as usual.

There were far more cameras around than I was comfortable with. Not that I was unfamiliar with news crews filming crime scenes but normally I was just a bland lab tech in the background. Now it felt like a number of the cameramen were more interested in me than the dead body or Doakes, the lead detective. It wouldn't be long before they started asking questions about why a young blue-haired girl was hanging out with the homicide division. I had to think of a way to blend in.

"Umm, Mr. Masuka, can I be your intern."

He seemed surprised. "I can't. If you were a grad student then maybe but this is the best damn department in Florida. I can't hire just anyone." A hint of sadness on my face made him justify himself further. "Are you even out of highschool?"

"Yes," I said instantly, though I swiftly realized I couldn't prove it.

"Well, you seem like you're even smarter than your old man. Study hard in college and maybe I'll see you in a few years."

I sighed. Sometimes I forgot that Vince had this super serious, head of forensics side to him. I'd just have to appeal to his reason. "Some studies show that work experience is far more useful on the job than any college or graduate degree. You wouldn't have to pay me anything and in no time at all I guarantee I'd be totally up to speed, like, I promise."

"I'd love to, but I can't."

"Fine." I turned and walked away, absolutely not in a huff. 'This sweater-dress feels awfully breezy in the back.' It was probably just my over-sensitive new skin acting up.

"Ichangedmymind!" cried Masuka.

I jumped back around. "You did?"

"You can be a consultant. It won't pay much and you won't be officially affiliated with the department but I'll bring you in when I can."

"Thankyou thankyou!" 'Why am I hugging him?' It had just… happened, before I could assert conscious control. Thankfully Masuka was just as shocked as I was. I swiftly released him and backed away before he could recover.

Debra pulled me away from the awkward silence moments later. "Dex-Dee!" she hissed. "What did you do to my dress? There's a big hole in the ass." My hands jumped to my backside and the reason for the breeziness was swiftly revealed. No wonder Masuka changed his mind when I walked away. "Go sit in my car, I'll take you home in a few minutes."

I was perturbed that she was treating me like a disobedient child but I couldn't say she was being unreasonable. "What about Doakes?"

"I talked to him," she said. "I agreed to do some of his paperwork and he agreed not to press charges for quote 'Dexter's spawn.' You owe me a big for this."

"Right, sure." Hands covering the skin exposed by the dress's hole I marched to her car. 'Where the hell is that sandwich?'