chapter word count: 797

noir heart: one hundred and fourteen

Having driven back at a speed that should have resulted in her being arrested, or at the very least receiving a ticket, Elsa clutches her handbag to her shoulder as she pushes open the A.P.D. detective unit's door. Anticipation and tense excitement hold pride of place in her chest, and with a smile on her face she scans the many moving heads in the department. There's a pair of twins giving her a funny look, and a button-nosed, black haired, squat man leaning over a desk, attempting to make the moves on an Asian woman with a purple streak in her black bob. He's evidently self-absorbed or blind, as the woman looks like she's about to drive her pen into his eye.

Her eyes rest on Jack's desk, where a laptop computer rests as well as a disorganised mess of papers and pens. The complete opposite to his partner's, naturally. He's not there, though, which adds a measure of disappointment - she was so looking forward to making him aware she's gone to the trouble of finding out about him. Why he is the way he is. That she cared enough, when caring about anyone is a miracle in itself, to do all this in the pursuit of friendship over a coffee.

Friendship and more, hopefully. Racy dreams and playing with oneself tend to indicate the latter.

She purposely makes her way to his desk, curiosity driving her steps. Her eyes linger on his laptop screen, where the word 'scopolamine' sits idly in the Google search bar. Interesting - he's researching the Devil's Breath. Her gaze falls to the topmost note paper, with the name CUPID underlined at the top, and various attributes listed below. Her heart twinges - another step on his dark road. She makes a decision - more research is needed.

"Can I help you, gorgeous?"

Oh, look. Lechery in the workplace, hanging rather obviously in the arrogant voice of that man she thought was irritating the other detective. Now he's irritating her. "Name's Detective Snotlout. You lookin' for someone special?"

Her eyes go contemptuously up into her brow while her lids close, and she hides a quiet groan. Inhaling a quiet, strengthening breath, she straightens up and turns her head to face him. "Why do you ask?"

He smirks, rather arrogantly at that, and spreads his hands like he's God's gift to women. "I think you just found him."

I rather doubt that, she thinks. "Actually, I was looking for Detective Frost. Do you know where he is?"

Snotlout's smirk drops like a stone, and confusion fights with what looks like petulance in his face. "Why d'you want him?"

Elsa plasters a smile, and tries so, so hard not to pull his gun from his holster and blast his brains out over the unit for even daring to be near her. "It's to do with the death of my husband. He was the one who took my statement."

"Ah." Snotlout's jock-like facade drops to that of a childish schoolboy - how reminiscent of Gaston. He wore such a demeanour. Right before Elsa cut the brake lines on his car, of course. "He's kinda busy in the interview room." He straightens up, and the urge to slip a knife into his gut becomes unbearable as the swagger comes back. "You sure I can't help you, beauti-"

His smirk drops again, this time to make way for dawning comprehension. "Wait. You're Elsa Black. The malignant narcissist sociopath."

Well, it's nice to be recognised. "I am." She's quietly amazed he can even pronounce it - spelling it may be a different matter, however.

...and the grin is back. Again. "Awe-some. I love a bit of crazy."

That's it. Elsa considered herself exceptionally patient for this pig of a man, but enough's enough. Her eyes flash with fury, but her smile is as flawless as ever. "Do you know what that means, Detective?" she says with forced politeness.

"Means you're hot."

"It means that if I was what you and Detective Frost say I am, then speaking hypothetically I could slit your throat just enough that you slowly bleed to death whilst I enjoy takeout pizza and a nice wine at your dinner table. Killing you would mean as much to me as choosing whether to wear my ice blue or forest green blouse."

The sight of the colour draining from his slack face is thoroughly rewarding. One has to enjoy the little things, after all.

"Speaking hypothetically, of course." Still smiling sweetly, she cocks her head. "Now, would you be extremely helpful and tell me where to find Detective Frost?"

I think I flanderized Snotlout a bit there. Oh well. chiqanti ceres: good eye! oninoko: because you want her to. deadbreath: I'm gonna take what you say at face value and say: wow, an actual sociopath. It is true, there's varying degrees of it and not all sociopaths are killers or who love to harm others. Did quite a bit of reading on it. High functioning sociopaths and low functioning sociopaths, and then there's the things that run parallel with it. I think it's called antisocial personality disorder, or something. If I may ask, how did you react when you where diagnosed? hornedgoddess: you got your mother into OGaV? Okay, now I feel self-conscious.

Oh, and happy 1 year birthday yesterday, NH. *eyes cake warily in case of psychopathic knife-wielding stripper*

special thanks to: doomstone, colormeaya, chiqanti ceres, jpbake, oninoko, deadbreath and hornedgoddess for the reviews!