chapter word count: 782 (oopsy daisy)

noir heart: sixty-six

The first thing he thinks when he rounds the corner into the office with a fresh report sheet, coffee in hand is: what the hell is Elsa Black doing here? Her case was shoved with the Ripper task force - which admittedly is going nowhere due to how the Ripper is like a freaking ghost. Leaning, practically sitting on his desk with her legs crossed as she watches him with a smile, she's looking pretty good - her radiant hair is impeccably braided with nary a flyaway hair, immaculately sharp makeup and wearing a black double-breasted winter coat with a plum scarf poking out. Not to mention the black pencil skirt and stockings. Yep, being a widow is definitely agreeing with her, he thinks...and immediately mentally chastises himself for being so facetious.

But then he notices the brown paper bag in her crossed hands, and her presence suddenly makes sense. "Personal effects?" he asks indifferently as he approaches the desk, ignoring the quizzical looks his colleagues shoot at both him and the woman making his desk look a hell of a lot prettier.

"Yes," she confirms, one hand diving into the bag, "I wouldn't have bothered had it not been for a particular piece of jewellery...and another reason." She pulls out a silver ring suspended by a neckchain, and gazes fondly at its glinting form. "A gift from my sister before the marriage - Kozmotis took it from me and wore it himself as a constant reminder that everything I was belonged to him." She sighs, wearing half a smirk that Jack does not miss.

"And yet you're still here." he says coldly.

"Well, I never did get your number. It's been awhile since we last talked." she says with the smoothness of silk, ignoring his tone. Jack immediately places the coffee on the desk, sits and makes himself look busy searching for his pen - which he actually needs for the report, oddly enough.

"A whole weekend," he grunts with sarcasm, "however did you cope…"

She chuckles, and it both tingles and chills him. "I kept myself entertained conducting my own investigation - and apartment hunting too. I need my own space as a newly single woman, after all."

Jack wonders how Anna took that particular bit of news, and tries to ignore the inflection in the word 'investigation', a neon hint for him to bite. Which he inadvertently does. "Investigation into what?" he asks, diving into the drawer to his right.

She clears her throat, and Jack looks up to find her holding his pen. "Well, that would be telling, wouldn't it?" she purrs.

Nope. Not going there. He shoots her an annoyed look as he gently takes the pen from her, just as a uniform passes by his desk on the way to the captain's office. "Whatever. Now, if you don't mind, I've got paperwork to do."

"Of course. The wheels of bureaucracy eternally turn." she smiles as she stands, and then adds something that ever so slightly unnerves him just as the uniform makes her way back the way she came. "I'll see you soon."

She stands and makes her way to the doors before he can ask her what she means, though he is somewhat distracted by the swaying of her hips. How Kozmotis could treat her so badly, he'll never know.

The thought goes flying out of the window, though, when he hears the smash of a cup behind him, and he whirls around in his chair to see where it came from as one is apt to do.

Shards of white ceramic lay spread across the floor amid a pool of coffee, at the feet of Captain Moors who stares in shock and stunned horror at the sheet of paper in one hand, her mouth covered with the other and her eyes shimmering wet. Instantly, he darts to his feet and races to the office, ignoring the liquid on the floor and closing the door behind him. Jane looks up with wide, how-did-this-happen eyes, her hands trembling. For the usually stoic 'Maleficent' to be in so much pain, something really bad must have happened.

And before he can open his mouth, she whispers, "My god-daughter is dead…".

He doesn't know why, but his first instinct is to take the sheet from her shaking hand, whisper "come here…" and put his arms around her - and judging by how she buries her face into his shoulder and sobs uncontrollably, that's all she needs him to do.

Though to hear her grief, to see her as such a trembling mess, it hurts his very soul.

just on the right side of 800 words of content D: Also, sorry Whimsy. Just gonna reiterate that NH is going to get pretty dark. This is the start of that.

special thanks to: rainbowcolorw0w, doomstone, oninoko, hornedgoddess, whimsical acumen, edgarallansnow, lunasnoir, jpbake and stefalove for the reviews!