I need God, or Zeus, or Buddha, or whoever's running the show up there to get their holy asses down to Earth now, because we need to have a conversation. Not so much of a conversation perhaps, maybe just me yelling, "WHY THE FUCK?" Because why the fuck did they have to make Mr. McSteamy? God/Zeus/Buddha/Whoever must have been like "You know, I'm in the mood to really fuck with Magnus's life, so let's make a guy he really likes into a drug dealer! Won't that be great fun?"

I moan and bang my head on my desk… way too hard. A resonating thump occurs, making my hung over head hurt even more. I hear a chuckle. I look up, Ragnor is leaning against the door frame watching me.

"Hard night there, Bane?" He shakes his head. "Are you going to tell him what happened last night?" He gives me one of his eyebrow raising stares. Ragnor is my best friend, my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandmother, every relative possible, all rolled into one annoying pain in the ass. Lovable pain in the ass, but pain in the ass none the less. He and the captain both know of my out of work activities but the Captain makes it sound like we're talking about prostate examinations.

Sure, it's the 21st century and nobody should give a shit if you like penises or vaginas or both, but in the cop community it does. Not in a homophobic way, it's more listed under the Things We Don't Talked About list. But I know I have to and so does Ragnor. Hence the eyebrow raise.

"I'm so hung over right now…" I try to complain but Ragnor's eyebrow shoots up so far it's almost getting tangled in his blond white hair. I groan, stand up slowly, and walk through the door while grumbling about how big an asshat Ragnor is while he just chuckles.

I knock on the chief's door, and hear the Wizard-of-Oz-like-boom, "Enter!" I'm telling you, the chief would make a kickass Wizard of Oz. I walk in to see that the Chief's giving me an eyebrow raise. There must be a special night class I'm missing out on about this eyebrow raise.

"Bane. What is it?" He booms, already as if I'm guilty of something. So I tell him details of last night, except for well, all the details about me and mystery man making out, humping, and almost getting naked. Basically, just that he came onto me and I found out that he's the drug dealer.

"So…Umh." He cleared his throat. I bite back a laugh. He's so uncomfortable, I almost feel sorry for him. "What's your plan of action?"

I blank, I didn't really have a plan.

"Errrm, I thought maybe we could use me to get to him? I mean if he likes me and thinks I'm double crossing the police, I'll earn his trust. And I can tell you who his contact is and when his next deal is, so you can bust him?" I have no idea where the hell these words are coming from, but there coming and I can't seem to stop. This doesn't feel right. I shouldn't care. I don't care. I shake the feeling off.

He pauses, stroking his chin for a few moments. It's honestly like he wants me to burst out laughing.

"Okay." I hear him boom… I think. Wait, did he just say okay? My befuddled expression must have clued him in, because next he says, "Yes, Bane. I said yes. I do that on occasion" completed with a pretty spectacular eye roll. He's a World Class eyebrow raiser and eye roller. Now, that's just unfair.

I nod, and begin to leave his office before I double back.

"How exactly am I going to do this, Chief?" I asked.

"FIGURE IT OUT, BANE! LEAVE!" He booms at me so loud the force from it practically propels me out of his office. That and fear of getting my balls ripped off.

When you get summoned to meet Camile anywhere, you're either screwed or about to become very wealthy. Camile is The Boss of All Bosses. She can buy anything, do anything; the woman is practically Superwoman. Which is probably due to her cut throat mentality, as in keep making money or we'll dispose of you. Camile and I have had a long standing relationship and to be honest, I think I'm her favorite. Especially with the men. I'm young, handsome, and supplying drugs. For me, it's a love-hate relationship. It differs day to day.

We both seem to understand the deal. We are not in the business of making friends, we're in the business of making millions of dollars in cash in exchange for drugs. We sell our product however we can, because at the end of the day it's not about the person who's buying or the person who's selling; it's all about the money. When I was first breaking in, this was a difficult lesson to learn. A lesson that has since kept me from being drinking buddies with Camile. As for the risks it brings, Camile was a very good persuader.

Today, I got a message to meet her at The Masa. As well as being the wealthiest women in New York, she might also be the most pretentious. Only she would pick a restaurant where a single meal is five hundred per person for a plate of fish wrapped in seaweed. The restaurant is a low light affair, with fancy table cloths and Camile sitting dead center in the room. She smiles, waving me over with a jingle of her gold bracelets.

"Alec, darling. Sit." Camile has this strange way of talking where everything she says instantly compels you to do whatever she says. She's a snake charmer of humans, which is why she has a list of lovers so extensive it goes from New York to Florida.

"Alright, I'm here. Should I start to learn how to breathe underwater or should I make room in my bank account?" I ask her calmly. Camile has always liked my straight to the point quality. She smiles knowingly, pouts her blood red lips.

"Why Alec, I am insulted. I would never do that to my favorite seller, would I?" She says, with her hand over her heart. I raise my eyebrows, and waving her hand at me she mumbles, "No fun." She takes out her phone, and slides it across the table to me. There's a picture of a Hispanic man with a cell phone on it. He looks pissed. I look closer at the photo and gasp.

"That's Guillermo Alvarado." I state, trying to keep all emotion out of my voice. Alvarado just happens to be one of Mexico's top crime bosses. If he wants some of ours and our shit is good enough that if he likes it, we become his suppliers. It also means that if anything goes wrong, I am going to be shot in the head. Camile smiles her sweet as pie smile and I want to punch her.

"A challenge. I know you're up to it. It's happening tonight. Bring me the money and I'll cut you in 30 percent." Big chance, big money. Camile has never offered 30 before. That's going to be 1.5 million dollars. The money is never what entices me, although it helps. It's the rush, it's the risk, the high. This one could mean death.

"I'll be there." I smirk, like the addict I am.

"Alec?" Camile says, her words laced with poison with frosting on top. "Do not disappoint me. Especially, with what happened the other night." Glancing at her phone again, she sighs, stands, air kisses me and glides away, leaving me alone.