Sam

For the past few weeks, the case had been going nowhere and authors were beginning to drop like flies at an alarming rate. There had been no retaliation from Near and she wasn't sure whether he was stumped or was waiting for the right moment to strike. Frankly, if he was stumped, then the whole situation was screwed.

After the two week mark of her disappearing act, Tanya finally began to visit Sam. Their friendship was closer to professional than anything else, much to Sam's dismay. They only talked about her poetry assignment.

"The company has agreed to put off the deadline, but I suggest you finish it before they change their minds." Tanya had said at one point.

"Yeah, I know."

Sam spent most of her days in her apartment, wandering listlessly around eating and writing. Near hadn't visited her, not that she was expecting him or anything, so human contact was very limited. Then, Tanya bursted into her home in a flurry of excitement.

"Oh, my god, you would not believe what happened to me today!" She shrieked, jumping up and down.

"You had an epiphany and realized I don't have the plague?" Sam asked sarcastically, but was ignored.

"I met a guy! I was out getting coffee and this really handsome man walks over to me and we started talking and we're going to go on a date!"

"Congrats. What's his name and when is this date?" Sam tried to sound excited, but she couldn't help but feel annoyed Tanya only came over out of excitement about her date rather than because she missed Sam.

"His name's Garrison and we're going on a date tomorrow night. He's going to pick me up at my apartment." Tanya casted her a silent request.

"...I'll be there at six." Sam sighed.

Tanya grinned and hugged her quickly before waving. "Thanks, Sam; you're the best! See you tomorrow!"

Just as quickly as she had arrived, she left and Sam tapped her jaw thoughtfully. It's almost strange how quick something like that happened.

Still, she was happy for Tanya and hoped the relationship would last beyond the awkward first date. Then again, Sam didn't know if the first date was awkward; she had never been on a date before, hence her envy. It wasn't like she had no interest in them, she did, but she had a fear of masculinity in all his shapes and forms.

She sat back down on her couch and turned the television on. The news was redundant still; weather, a cat stuck in a tree, murder. There was always the occasional side of robbery thrown in.

"Recently, there have been no moves made by L; in fact, he hasn't sent Watari to speak with Interpol about his flux. In the meantime, Inclementia seems to be working double time as the deaths of authors increases tenfold."

She turned the TV back off and groaned. "Jeez, Near, what the heck happened to you?"

Near

Rester and Halle watched their boss as he uncharacteristically paced back and forth, his socked feet sliding effortlessly over the steel floors. His teeth were worrying at his bottom lip, which was beginning to develop a sore. His hands flopped uselessly at his sides and his toys lay scattered across the room, abandoned. His eyes seemed more lethargic than before as the bruises beneath them darkened.

They didn't know what was happening to him. They weren't sure if he just wasn't motivated enough to continue on with the case or if he was having some sort of trouble.

He in a creative slump. All the plans he formulated were useless or would create unnecessary fatalities. One of them even included Sam; he was going to use her as bait. He was immoral enough to do it, but for some reason, the idea sickened him. He had no desire to drag her in deeper than she already was. Why he felt like that, he had no idea.

Why can't I come up with a plan that is satisfactory? Part of him knew the reason and the other part of him hated himself for even considering it. Mello. He had relied on Mello and now that he didn't have him and his unyielding drive, he was stumbling around in the dark, grasping desperately for something, anything.

He shook his head subconsciously, forcing the useless thoughts out of his head. He stopped pacing and stood like a wan statue.

"...There is approximately a seventy percent chance Inclementia is searching for Saxon's location. Obviously, Saxon's location does not exist. He does not know this and I would like to keep it like that." He thought aloud.

Rester and Halle listened quietly, waiting for him to continue. He slowly went over to his chair, pulled one leg up to his chest, and began to twirl one of his curls.

"However, there is a small percentage he knows Saxon is just a pen name. He will then try to get close to her, most likely in an indirect manner. I've thought about the way he killed the decoy. I believe he made the Eye Deal right then as there was no way he would have been able to kill her without knowing her beforehand. Rester, bring up the Saxon Leroux website."

Rester obeyed and Near rolled over to the screen. He scrolled rapidly through the pages on the site and paused on "Contacts."

"That stupid company." He muttered, placing his feet on the edge of the desk and pushed himself back to his spot.

"Halle, I want you to follow her publisher, Tanya Smith. Go now."

Halle nodded and left the room, the doors sliding shut behind her. Near picked up his headless Optimus. Rester read over the page as well and his eyes widened slightly.

"Near, what are the chances he's already made contact with her?"

"...Roughly sixty, no fifty five percent." Near wasn't looking at him.

"Is that being optimistic?"

"Yes. It looks like I may need to call in the reinforcements after all." He sighed, hoping he would only need to call them in when the situation was despondent.

It would appear this case has come to exactly that. He thought forlornly, setting Optimus back down.