Happy Pesach and Easter to those who celebrate! I hope you're all enjoying this nice spring weather and the convoluted daylight savings change :)

Many thanks again to the one and only Sassybratt9791 for her impeccable betaing, as usual, and for correcting a lot of potential mistakes and plot holes. Please go check her out!

"You've got to be kidding me," Koharu muttered incredulously under her breath. "He's here?"

The precinct buzzed with activity even this early in the morning; no one wanted to be known as the lazy asshole who couldn't be bothered to show their commitment to the job by coming in after 7. Sango was one of the first to be there, naturally, and she could usually be found toting a cup of coffee from the shop around the corner while going over a file or two. She was loitering by the water cooler with Koharu Amamiya, a friend who had transferred over to their precinct a year back, and Tsuyu Kai, an older colleague.

"Is he the guy you complained about to us all those times? Your coworker from before your transfer?" The clear disdain in Sango and Koharu's glares directed at the back of Miroku's head merited Tsuyu's commentary.

"Yeah," Koharu said. "It started when I asked him to pretend to be my boyfriend so that Aburachōji creep would buzz off and leave me alone. Turns out this Miroku guy is almost just as bad anyways!"

Sango had heard that their newest addition to the precinct—Mr. Hotshot—was a lecher. She'd heard Koharu's horror stories. "Remind me of what he did again, would you, Koharu?" she asked, her stare never leaving Miroku's vicinity.

"I can't decide which one is worse: the time he copped a feel in public at that precinct event in Disneyland, or when my parents stopped by to visit and they saw him running his mouth with that 'will you bear my child' line."

"Oh, dear…" Tsuyu's hand covered her mouth delicately.

"So much for the precinct giving a rat's ass about gender equality," Koharu growled and slurped down her own cup of coffee angrily. "I filed three reports about the guy and I was the one who got lectured about 'preserving the department's good standing.'"

"A load of bull, if you ask me," was Sango's cool reply. By then Miroku had noticed them and, ending his own conversation with Mori, strolled over to them far more chipper than any man had a right to be at 5:30 in the morning.

"Morning, ladies," he called out, grinning cheerfully.

"Good morning," they returned the greeting politely, but Sango's frostiness and Koharu's half-heartedness prompted a raised eyebrow on his part.

"Or perhaps not a good one then. Something wrong?"

"Everything's been fine so far," Sango said tightly. "I see you've decided to grace us with your presence before 7 for a change, Detective."

He had the gall to laugh, running a hand through his irritatingly messy hair (loose from its usual tail, Sango noticed), and shifting his weight with a casual lean in their direction. "I figured that I should start taking this a little more seriously for a change."

"Good for you." Sango's response bordered on apathy.

"But there's also something about this case that I believe merits more of my time and undivided attention." He flashed that obnoxiously toothy smile again. Ugh. The sight alone made Sango feel like she wanted to walk out of the room. "Though I suppose that the privilege of working with such beautiful, intelligent ladies in the same department should be motivation enough!"

Tsuyu's tiny titter was not a fake one, but it was easy to hear the politeness behind it rather than it being a product of a genuinely flattered reaction; the woman giggled constantly around her husband and the difference was marked. Koharu's snort was poorly disguised but it apparently escaped Miroku's notice. Or he chose to ignore it, anyways.

"That's very kind of you, but it's best to limit the small talk and flattery to the lunch hour," Sango chided. "Let's not distract ourselves when we should be focusing on our work."

"If I do recall, you seemed to be rather distracted yourself when you couldn't decide between ordering the regular black coffee, or the rather delicious looking mocha latte at the shop today, Sango-san," he teased.

What the hell? Not only was this guy being an obnoxious flirt, but he was following her to work, too? Sango felt a, sadly now familiar, flush of irritation climb up her back and rub uncomfortably with her shirt collar. "I care about the quality of what I put in my body, thanks." Her snippiness came out in full force, to the point of making even Koharu look taken aback.

Miroku raised his free hand in a placating gesture. "Forgive me. I was only trying to scout out the coffee places around the precinct, and you seem like a reliable arbiter of good taste. But alas, I must confess that my budget comes first." He raised his 7-Eleven cup to his lips and took a noisy sip.

"Just be ready for the meeting," Sango snapped and whirled around, wanting nothing more than to just escape from his presence already. "And comb your hair before you come in, for gods' sake!"

Tsuyu and Koharu stood, mouth agape, before coming back to their senses and murmuring hurried apologies before running after Sango, their heels clicking loudly on the linoleum floor. Miroku, smirking lightly to himself, took another sip of coffee.

"Bi-tchy," a sing-song voice called out to him. His friend's paunch, straining against his white buttoned shirt, sidled up next to him as they both watched the women receding from sight.

"Now now, Hachi," Miroku made a small, too satisfied noise of content as he drained the cup and lobbed it into the nearest bin, pumping his fist slightly when it made a perfect landing. "Let's play nice."

The hum of the fluorescent lighting helped to mask some of the noise filtering in from the bullpen as the rest of the officers trickled in to the conference room, exchanged quiet greetings, and took their seats. Unsurprisingly, Miroku was late. Sango rolled her eyes. Leave it to him to be late to a scheduled meeting when he was already in the building.

"Thank you all for coming," the chief of forensics, a rather tall and monkish looking man with a buzzcut, bowed to the assembly. "We have compiled this presentation with the data we have gathered so far in the hopes that it will assist us in solving this case. We hope it will be to the benefit of everyone investigating."

A young and mousy assistant flipped on the projector's switch, the PowerPoint logo briefly dominating the canvas of the projection screen before fading to the presentation's first slide.

"What is obvious even at first glance is that the scene of the crime was violent. The perpetrator made a mistake, alerted the victim to their presence, and a struggle ensued."

"Ah, wait a moment," a young officer, an annoying type Sango surmised had come straight from the academy, raised his hand for a question. "Why not 'he?' Are we sure we're using the right pronouns here? Why not assume the gender?" His friend giggled next to him.

"Let's just use 'they' as a placeholder for now, so shut it, kid," Hata snarled. The young man shrunk back in his chair.

"Statistically, it's much more likely for a criminal, especially someone involved in a violent assault, to be a man," Miroku explained, walking through the door as though he wasn't five minutes late. His hair was combed back into its usual tail and his shirt was tucked in. He winked at Sango as he sat down, prompting a scowl on Hata's part.

"Correct," the forensics chief said, irritated. "But until we are 100% certain, and to keep things unbiased, we will be placing our phrasing around 'suspect,' 'perpetrator,' and 'assailant.'" Why Sango and the others had to listen to a rehash of basic police academy terms was anyone's guess, but she strongly suspected it had to do with aggravating men running their mouths when they shouldn't have.

The second slide was brought up. It was a diagram of the crime scene.

"Now," the chief pulled out a laser pointer from his vest pocket. "From what has been seen so far, we've established that the perpetrator entered through the window." He shined the tiny red dot onto the drawing. "They most likely punched through, as a glass cutter would have left a much cleaner circular outline." The slide transitioned to a closer look at the window. The photograph on display showed a jagged, but surprisingly small looking hole next to the latch. "A small piece of gravel was found on the floor along with a minimum amount of glass. It tells us that the perpetrator has enough experience with break-ins to know about these low tech methods of breaching windows while minimising the amount of damage done to the rest of the pane."

"A career criminal, then?" Tsuyu ventured.

"Possibly."

For a brief moment, the only sounds besides the buzzing from the fluorescent lights were of the officers taking down notes. The annoying young officer's friend piped up. "Since the hole in the window looks pretty small for a break, could that mean that the suspect's a woman? Possibly a very young one?"

"With all due respect, Awara-san, size doesn't really give us an indication as to the perpetrator's gender." The man speaking now was Kuranosuke Takeda, an old friend of Sango's whose gentle, courteous disposition made him rather easy to get along with as well as a generally popular and well-liked individual. Sango flashed him a quick smile of approval as Awara slid back into his seat. The petulancy of the display contrasted poorly with Kuranosuke's calm demeanour. "Nor does it point to any conclusion of an age. What we can gather is that this person was strong enough to fight against an adult woman and most likely win."

"That is a good point to make, Takeda-san," the chief bobbed his head appreciatively. "Though there were certain cues the lab took when processing the scene that allowed us to gather enough information on the victim to create what we believe is an accurate enough profile on the perpetrator."

The slide showed a photograph of the cramped kitchen/dining room combination where the crime took place. The contrast between the diagram—the sterile, black and white digital rendition by an artist—compared to the full colour photo, was stark, sobering; the blood looked rusty, ominously so, against the pale wooden flooring and the white walls. The overturned table with its broken leg was brightly illuminated by the camera flash and made the window behind it appear washed out.

"Despite the close quarters of the space, the violence of the altercation is apparent and the amount of blood found was enough to confirm that most of it belongs to an adult female."

Koharu made a small, disturbed noise at the back of her throat. To imagine what happened to that poor woman…

"Sweeps of the area confirmed that the bedroom, bathroom and washroom were untouched, with nothing of significance to this case having been found there so far. It indicates the entirety of the scene most likely remained confined to that room. What we did find through area analysis, the blood tests, and dust printing helped to reconstruct the events of the crime."

A layout of the room flashed into view, with thin arrows superimposed over the drawing connecting it to the photographs of key points of the crime scene: the broken window, the blood on the floor and the corded telephone, the table, the bowl of fruit, and the smashed vase. The projectionist pushed a button and the presentation added a transparent set of footprints, coloured orange, onto the slide.

"The perpetrator made a careful entrance and took care to remove their shoes before entering, thus ensuring that no mud or debris from outside the apartment could be tracked over the floor. They moved behind the kitchen counter and began to open the drawers in a seemingly random pattern, searching for something that remains unknown to us. No prints were revealed, thus we can assume they wore gloves of some sort."

Another push of the button added a set of green footprints to the scene.

"The snooping was evidently not performed quietly enough, as it woke the victim and propitiated a confrontation. The shoji to the bedroom was found open, and print dusting has revealed the small footprints of a bare-footed person standing in the threshold between the bedroom and the crime scene."

More button pushing. The next diagram reminded Sango of the complicated illustrations she'd seen in books demonstrating the footwork that went into different types of dances and where to place the feet: female right foot started, labelled with a one, male left foot took a step back with another one…

The chief cleared his throat before continuing. "Having been caught, the perpetrator attempted to make a getaway, but was knocked back into the counter, breaking the bowl containing the fruit."

The bowl icon went from opaque to colourful in the slide as he spoke.

"Here we can see that a weapon was drawn—most likely a knife of some kind—as this marks the point where blood appears on the scene. The victim was stabbed, whether to keep her away from the perpetrator or an intention to harm her anyways, and it makes her fall to the floor."

The icon standing in for the bloody smears on the floor turned a bright red.

"The positioning of the blood on the floor, coupled with the samples of skin and hair found, indicates that she feel to her knees and held herself upright with a hand—" an overhead photograph of the bloody floor flashed onscreen next to the diagram, "—before switching hands to hold her wounded left side and start crawling. The switch is what put the blood on the floor as well as created the smear, considering she dragged herself over it. The wound might have been rather deep, judging by the amount of blood."

Tsuyu's distressed noise prompted Sango to reach over and hold her hand in an attempt to comfort her. They were trained policewomen, yes, but it was always difficult to be confronted with the gruesome facts of their line of work.

"Now, the placement of the smears reveals an interesting side to the crime scene," the chief said. "There is no evidence of scuffing on the wooden floor that tells us she moved in a hurry—rather, the smears are long and uninterrupted. She was in pain, and the pain made her move slowly. What is even more interesting are the five smears made by her knees and legs. Now, moving so slowly, yet having enough time to reach the phone on the wall…perhaps her attacker was distracted. Perhaps they went back to their search for a little bit. Or maybe they were toying with her before she got to the telephone. Whatever happened, we don't know for certain yet."

To Sango's surprise, something in Miroku's face turned…hard. Angry, even.

What exactly was that about?

"So, she reached the phone to call for help. This is when the perpetrator made their move and struggled with her over it." A photo of the white corded telephone was brought up. "As you can see, the type of sponge texture seen over the surface contrasts with the smoother swipes of blood on the other side—we can hypothesise that the gloves worn by the perpetrator were of a soft material such as cloth or suede, and they absorbed some of the blood."

Koharu raised her hand, a habit she hadn't managed to shake off even after graduating the academy. "Sir, what about their footwear? Surely they didn't manage to avoid the blood on the floor and smear it all over?"

The chief shook his head lightly. "Most of the smearing from the perpetrator's feet was concentrated around the telephone's location. The perpetrator took the time to clean up after themselves, and though they most likely used water considering our team could still find blood with luminol, we've not found a single viable footprint."

That was bad. No fingerprints, no footprints…unless their mystery suspect had torn a shirt and had done them the kind favour of leaving it behind, then they had very little biological material to work with that wasn't Higurashi's. "Could there have been any fibres from clothing at the scene? Any dirt? Plant debris? Maybe they wore socks and some fibres got stuck in the blood?" Sango inquired.

"Our team did manage to find a few threads on the windowsill, but we're still processing them at the lab. And so far, the only dirt found at the scene was from the broken pots in the street out back, though it's still a little early to tell yet. We are still processing the blood for fibres as well."

"And the apartment's phone records? Their internet usage?"

"The Higurashi household has no computer and we are still in the middle of processing the telephone's answering machine, and we are still checking it for more evidence besides the victim's blood. In any case, it was quite…difficult to persuade Higurashi-san to surrender his mobile."

Miroku and his gang—Sango assumed they got along well enough since they all sat together—immediately slumped in their chairs and groaned.

Oh, grow up, she thought sourly. You're not the only ones who had to deal with him.

The forensics chief cleared his throat. "Continuing with the presentation…" he announced.

The slide then showed the coloured footprints moving to the overturned table.

"Some footprints here reveal the struggle continued and knocked the table over. Whoever it was had apparently been pushed back with enough force to break one of the table's legs." He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose."However, a bloody toeprint in front of the table supports the theory of Mrs. Higurashi fighting back and pushing her assailant away."

"Ah!" Tsuyu exclaimed with a small gasp. "There's blood on the table's edge too…she must have leaned over it!"

"But if she was in so much pain, how'd she do that?" the annoying young officer from before asked.

"Fear and adrenaline do help," the chief deadpanned. "There is also the fact that our diagram shows the broken shards of a vase close to the telephone's location—she most likely smashed it onto some vulnerable point like the face."

"So she threw herself on them?" Koharu asked.

The male officer made a little sound of incomprehension. "But if she managed to get them off with the vase, why didn't she take that chance to run instead of attacking them?"

Because some people are fighters, Sango replied in her mind. Far be it for her to approve of such recklessness, as it most likely robbed the poor woman of a chance to flee, but she recognised bravery when she saw it. Her heart hurt at the thought.

"Well, whatever she did, it didn't work for long, and whoever it was, they got her off them quick," Miroku added, rather seriously. "There's not much blood on the table's edge to suggest Higurashi-san was on it for an extended period of time, but the picture shows more blood a little ways next to the handprints. And, I'm not quite sure how to say it, but it looks a little…pressed. As though someone had laid down on it."

"An astute observation, detective," the chief nodded approvingly at Miroku. As petty as it was and as much as she didn't want to admit it, the gesture annoyed Sango.

"So…she was pushed off and was most likely stunned. It seems to me like the point where she decided to make a run for it."

Miroku's words hung heavily over the room like a dark cloud. As hard as she fought, as much as she struggled and screamed and gave it her all…they knew how well that ended for the poor woman.

The sentiment seemed to be shared by the forensics chief, judging by his low, pensive sigh. "A bloody partial print was found close to the genkan. And a small patch of blood was found on an adjacent wall. She might have tripped or been slammed into it. But we are still running tests and all the appropriate procedures to figure it out."

The sound of note taking was the only response.

"From there," he resumed the thread after clearing his throat delicately, "we can assume the perpetrator took the time to try and clean up after themselves and made off with the victim, or she escaped through the window afterwards." Another click prompted the next slide to come on-screen, this time showing a closeup of the windowsill—tiny traces of blood could be seen. "We've tested the blood on the window, and it matches the samples gathered from the floor."

"So…is this a kidnapping…?" Tsuyu ventured almost timidly.

"It may seem like it, but we aren't certain," the chief replied.

Miroku banged the desk loudly as he stood up immediately in response. "Wait, if the victim is missing and the scene of the crime was a violent one, how could it not be?" he demanded.

"At ease, detective," Sango warned under her breath.

"Shouldn't we have more people canvassing the streets?"

"Detective," Sango said, louder this time.

The tension, like a string pulled taught, was thin and ready to snap, but easily avoidable if one end slackened; thankfully, Miroku listened to her and sat back down, murmuring the appropriate apologies for his outburst.

"We are doing everything we can," the chief explained tiredly, "but until we have all the facts, we cannot allow ourselves to jump to conclusions. Yes, it's likely we are looking at a kidnapping scenario, but the higher ups have told Shako-san and our department to hold back from classifying it as such until we are absolutely certain––they don't want any panic spreading more than it has in that neighbourhood."

Sango bowed in Miroku's stead. "We understand. Our apologies."

The assistant, observing the tiny drama playing out before her, remembered herself and snapped back to attention when the chief cleared his throat pointedly. She pressed the button again and a full screen picture of the street behind the apartment was brought up.

The chief pushed his glasses back up his nose before resuming. "No blood was found on the asphalt or in the vicinity of the broken pots. Superficial soil testing did not give any results out of the ordinary either." He motioned for the assistant to press the button again. "What we did find was a brief set of tyre tracks, recently made. Probably from a getaway vehicle."

"So accomplices were involved," one of Miroku's friends piped up.

"Most likely. We're still checking street cameras for more evidence."

With that, the preliminary presentation of evidence was concluded, and the meeting momentarily broken up as the forensics team thanked all those present and gathered up their belongings while everyone else talked about the findings. The forensics team promised to be back with more information and updates as the case was processed; just as they had exited, none other than precinct chief Shako entered.

Sango immediately assumed a rigid stance. "Sir!" she saluted deferentially.

The tall, silver-haired officer smiled kindly at her. "Don't be so stiff Sango. It's just me!"

"Yes sir," she apologised immediately. She shot Miroku a brief, dirty look when he snickered.

"So!" Shako began speaking. "I see that our forensics team has just left. I hope that their talk gave us the information we need to further our investigation and help the Higurashis and their community."

"Yes sir!" the room intoned dutifully and bowed.

"Now then," Shako shuffled a handful of thick manila folders in his hands, and then spread them all out on the table. They were labelled with everyone's names, a folder to each, and were organised alphabetically. "Since the departments were reorganised this year, you'll be getting to work with new faces for the first cases since it was done. I'm sure you've all been acquainted with each other at the autumn event, but there's nothing wrong with a little refresher for today." He picked up a folder and held it out horizontally. "Sango!" he called out with a broad smile.

She strode forward obediently, stopping exactly before the folder, and took it carefully from him with another bow before tucking it under her arm and taking her place on his right. Her rightful place, she thought not without a little excitement.

"Inspector Tachibana will be the head of your investigative team," Shako said proudly. "Though she's young, she's one of the best graduates from the Academy and has proven herself up to the task."

Sango blushed, the faintest feeling of giddiness colouring her cheeks at his praise.

"She will lead your team and will make all the executive decisions in your stead, and she will report directly to me as well as superintendent Shimura. Alternatively, if she misbehaves, you can all also report her to us!" Shako teased.

"Sir—!" Sango began, but remembered that it was in bad form to talk back to her superiors and kept her mouth shut. The sound of Miroku and company's little giggles not only felt embarrassing, but annoyed her enough that she felt her neck and ears go hot.

Thankfully, Shako moved on to the next person. "Oda!"

One of the men from Miroku's little group broke ranks—a rather young looking man with sandy dyed hair tied back into a short but thick ponytail—to accept his folder. Sango wasn't apparently that much older than him, but she wondered if that was the latest fashion at the universities. Normally police departments were very strict about personal hygiene and presentation (her father forced her to trim a few centimeters off her own hair and to not use makeup when she went off to the academy herself), but perhaps Shako was relaxing the rules a bit in an attempt to entice young people to choose policework as a career.

Oda, hilariously, moved to try and stand next to Sango, but she blocked him with an upturned palm. "Not you." The rebuke was quiet but enough to make his face turn a bright cherry red, and he slunk back almost guiltily as the chubbier one of his little gang barely stifled a snort.

"Oda-san is coming to us directly from the Academy as one of the top students of his class. He's part of our new cyber crimes division and I've been told from his instructors that he is especially gifted in dealing with cameras and internet tracking. As this is his first case, let's give him a warm welcome."

Though his blush had receded somewhat, Oda mumbled embarrassed thank yous to the polite clapping that followed Shako's statement.

Next up were Tsuyu's (a criminal psychologist), Kuranosuke's (a criminal investigator), and Koharu's (a field agent specialising in street and organised crime) introductions. Shako took a bit more time with Koharu as she had transferred to their precinct the last year; it was then that Sango saw a spark of recognition in Miroku's eyes, and Koharu pointedly stood opposite from him when she finished accepting her folder.

Shima Kuwatani, a young woman Sango knew but rarely interacted with, was presented to the rest of the team as their forensic liaison—from what little Sango remembered about her, she had no reputation as a troublemaker (unlike some people she could think of), but she was known as a bit of a ditz and a flirt. Case in point: the little smile sent their way after receiving her own folder had Oda's blush returning in full force, and Miroku's eyebrow raised suggestively.

Another of Miroku's friends—Kuranosuke referred to him as Awara—stepped forward. "Awara-san is a transfer from Toyo's third police precinct and will be working with you as a detective. He has over ten years of experience in the field and will be a source of valuable information as you proceed." Polite clapping and bowing followed as Awara waddled back to his place.

And next up…was Mr. Hotshot himself.

"Ishida-san," Shako started with a smile that Sango knew very well as not a genuine one, "is another recent transfer from Toyo's third. Though he may be young, his…unorthodox way of thinking may prove to be beneficial. I hope you all get along and work together to solve this case."

"Yes sir!" everyone replied in kind.

The tightness around Shako's eyes relaxed now that he was done with introductions. "Good. Now that that's out of the way, I'm here to divide your team into two groups for next day's assignment." A brief buzzing sound had him check his back pocket––his clamshell phone was ringing, and he took it out, flipped it open, and closed it nonchalantly as he slipped it back in again. "As I was saying: Inspector Tachibana will take the first group to interview Higurashi-san's place of employment. Detective Ishida will lead the second to her family home—"

"Sir—" Sango interrupted, distressed, but caught herself in time and shut her mouth.

"––and the day after that will be dedicated to her husband's place of employment. Necessary, seeing as it's a rather large area to cover and apparently involves a large amount of people, so we need to be as thorough as possible." He seemed to not have paid the slightest attention to Sango's little outburst. He coughed a bit into his closed palm before continuing. "Tachibana will be taking Oda, Amamiya, and Awara. Ishida will be taking Takeda, Kuwatani, and Kai." Shako paused, surveying the room with a suddenly critical eye. "Has everyone understood?"

"Yes sir!" everyone said.

"Good! This concludes today's session. Please study your folders thoroughly before reconvening here tomorrow at 0500 hours sharp." Shako bowed his head to them. "We need an early start so we can close this case as soon as possible."

With everyone dismissed, they began filing out of the room in an orderly line, murmuring to each other about their newest assignment, reacquainting themselves, and exchanging small talk. Miroku, insufferable and way too happy about it, turned to wink at Sango before he shut the door.

Now, it was just her and the Assistant Commissioner. He had opened his phone to check the message he ignored earlier.

The buzzing of the fluorescent lights had never seemed louder.

"Sir…" Sango began, biting her lip. "Why him?"

Shako looked up from his phone casually. Closing it, he faced her, leaning back with a loud sigh on the table. "Sango––"

"You've heard about his misbehaviour," Sango finally let out what she'd been wanting to say since she learned Miroku was to be stationed with them. "He's had reports filed against him."

"Sango––"

"He's nothing but a liability and a nuisance! He comes in here acting like he can do things like in some cop movie, with no thought to procedure or protocol, and Koharu––"

"Sango."

He wasn't loud or angry when he said it. But the finality of his tone, that familiar no buts to that single word, stopped her in her tracks mid-sentence. Sango closed her eyes, took a very deep breath, and counted to ten.

"I've heard," Shako replied in that cool, gravelly voice of his. "But it doesn't take away from what he was able to accomplish during his time there. I daresay you're being a little hard on him––"

"Hard on him? That's got to be the most ridi––"

"––and it's not the first time you've done that to anyone here, including yourself."

"If I'm hard on anyone it's because I need to be. We're police officers! We can't afford not to be hard on ourselves and everyone else involved in this."

"Well, maybe you're mistaken, Sango," and she heard a weariness in his voice that was seldom heard, even in serious situations. "Maybe you can learn a thing or two from him. Gods know it wouldn't kill you to maybe relax your standards a bit."

Sango felt her stomach sink. "Oh no. Oh no no no. I am not going to let him be some––some morality pet, or whatever it is those characters are in buddy cop comedies. You know what? That's exactly what this is," she began to ramble, feeling that now depressingly familiar sense of irritation rise to her neck again. "This is the setup of every buddy cop story out there: I'm the mean, by-the-book establishment cop, and he's supposed to the free-spirited rookie maverick that gets me to loosen up and be nicer," she practically spat.

"Or," Shako said, not bothering to hide his exasperation, "you're the anchor he needs to keep himself from sinking."

"The what?"

"I don't think that whatever has been reported against him is such a terrible thing," he stated, and cut Sango off just as she started to argue against him. "But. Without an eye as discerning––" Sango scoffed at that––"or a hand as steady as yours, I fear his lack of tact and his relative sense of…blitheness could get him into more trouble, and he might not be able to recover from it."

Sango dragged her carefully manicured hand down her face. "Why this sudden concern? Have you met before? Are you close?" she almost accused.

"I used to be well acquainted with his grandfather," Shako admitted with a deep breath rushing out of his nose. The solemnity…the genuine sadness in his eyes immediately quieted Sango down, but also piqued an interest over what exactly those connections meant.

What did he know about Miroku that he wasn't telling her about?

"I even saw him as a little boy, once, though he probably doesn't recognise me. And I think he's grown up into a fine young man." Shako sighed very deeply again. "I've heard about his intelligence, his nose for danger, his sense of intuition…" There was a far-off look to his face. "I'd hate to see all that talent and potential go to waste."

That got Sango to snap out of her brief reverie. "So what?" she demanded. "I'm supposed to be his babysitter now? Keep him out of trouble to save that valuable 'talent' of his?"

"If you want to put it that bluntly, yes."

Sango spluttered. "I am not a babysitter, least of all to people like him!" she hissed emphatically.

"Well, sometimes running a station and directing a squadron of officers is a lot like babysitting." Shako stood up and walked over to the door; if there was a clearer indication of him ending the conversation, Sango would be hard-pressed to find it. "People make mistakes. They get confused, lost, or don't know what to do…and they need a competent adult to help them find their way again."

"Thanks for the compliment," her words positively dripped with sarcasm.

"Well, I say it because it's true!" The smile was back on his face, all warmth and grandfatherly charm again, as though he hadn't made an emotional appeal to her just a few minutes ago. "And that's why I chose you for the job, Sango: because I know you can do it."

Though the door closed with a quiet click, to Sango it felt as though it had been slammed right in her face. She sank gracelessly onto a nearby chair, threw her head back, and groaned loudly.

Thanks a lot for nothing.

Next up: the CSI team heads out to investigate the seedy back alleys of Hell's Kitchen!

(I kid, but I do love Laurence Fishburn in that series)

I once again apologise for any inconsistencies in procedural work; I'm a writer, not a detective ;)