Hello again, and as always, I apologize for the crazy delay! Spring break and school and pure laziness had me running around the country, but it's good to be back. Thank you again for being such an amazing group of readers!

"Are you sure you want that much off?" the fiery red-haired woman questioned, running her fingers through Bree's freshly washed curly tresses.

Bree nodded.

"Absolutely."

The hairdresser gave a hesitant shrug as she reached for the shears. Bree sat relatively silent as she watched the long detached strands of blond hair fall onto her aproned lap. It became mesmerizing, watching the curtain of hair fall into a pile of wisps. Eventually, the chair spun back around and she faced herself once more in the long mirror.

"Is that alright?"

"It's perfect, Zoe," Bree turned back to her with a smile, "Feels better already."

Zoe flashed her a smile as she plugged in the blow-dryer.

"It's pretty ballsy compared to your last one, but I think it works for you.

Bree half-scoffed a laugh, reaching up and ruffling her now long pixie.

"Well, I guess that's me then, ballsy as they come," she said dryly.

After a relatively relaxing weekend, the prospect of work almost seemed to be an interesting change of pace. However, by the time she had arrived the precinct had already blossomed into a state of disarray.

"What happened?" she asked when she tried to shove past the anxious faces of officers and crime scene tape to reach the stairs.

"A hot load of crap, that's what," Bullock had muttered vaguely at her questioning. It hadn't been particularly helpful.

A crime scene in the precinct?

When she finally shoved through the line to reach the stairs to her work space, she had heard enough idle gossip to piece together a general notion of what had occurred.

Welcome to Gotham: where witnesses can be murdered in police stations of all places.

It was rare times such as these that that she was glad to be on the outside of the investigation instead of in the through of duty. Evidence did seem to indicate it could have been an inside job, which didn't make her feel any better as she shuffled through the paperwork of several officers.

It could have been any of them.

"An icepick!"

Bree nearly jumped as a voice suddenly chimed close to her ear and her elbow automatically shot back, colliding into a solid surface.

"Ompff…" came a muffled groan as she spun around.

"Oh my god…Edward! I am so sorry," Bree sputtered, clamping a hand over her mouth as Edward hunched over slightly, clutching his middle.

"Oh…..well…..I'm just…..fine," he chuckled half-heartedly with a grimace.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded, his expression lightening a fraction, a small smile back on his face.

"So, I was saying; an icepick!"

Bree blinked, tilting her head slightly.

"Ahh…..what about an icepick?"

"Are you familiar with the events of this morning?" he remarked in a lower tone

"Vaguely."

"Good. Now, you are in a room with three monkeys. One monkey has a banana, one has a stick, and one has nothing. Who is the smartest primate?"

Bree held back a groan of impatience, but thought for a moment.

"You. Now, what's this business with the icepick have to do with the events of this morning?"

"Ah, but everything!" he said with a wide grin, "This morning a witness was murdered while awaiting questioning. Cause of death: blood loss and internal damaging from a stab to the back from an ice pick."

"Wow….that's a bit unsual."

"Tell me about it! That's ju—"he froze mid-sentence, blinking a few times as his eyes rested on her shoulders and trailed up.

"Where did your hair go? No—I mean, it looks different."

She couldn't help but to laugh.

"Well, I did get a haircut if that's what you mean."

Had he really been so engrossed in the case that he hadn't even noticed it when he first ran to her? Or was he really just not observant.

Knowing him, probably the former.

Bree shook her head.

"So what's with this whole murder in the precinct deal?"

"It appears that a witness knew a little too much and someone decided to take matters into their own hands…"

"Do you think it was someone who works here?" she lowered her voice, her eyes flickering around. Edward's lips flattened into a tight line and he gave a curt nod.

"It would appear so."

"Doesn't that bother you?" she offered, folding her arms across her chest as she wandered out of the main walkway.

"Well of course….I simply am redirecting my energy into other pressing matters…."

"Such as….?"

The frown vanished from his features, a smile stretched wide across his lips.

"Well!" he began, reaching into his pocket and flourishing his small leather notebook, "I have an idea….to get miss Kringle's attention!"

Bree couldn't stop herself from gaping.

"And that's more pressing than a murder in our very own precinct?"

A red flush spread across his cheeks.

"Umm…..well. I, ahh…"

She sighed.

"Alright, let's hear it."

His expression lifted.

"A poem. I intended to write her a love poem."

"Why?"

"B-because it is what many people consider 'conventionally romantic' and for some reason miss Kringle seems partial to more traditional approaches…"

"No, not that….I mean why even bother with her. It's not like she's done anything to indicate even being friendly, let alone flirty."

"So…I take it that you're not going to help me with the poem?"

She shot him an unamused look before slowly shaking her head. She gave him a light pat on the shoulder.

"Keep me updated on how that goes, but I'm calling it now that it may not go so spectacularly."

Edward blinked in surprise, a frown tugging at his lips.

"You're never typically this negative…." He muttered, clutching the little book to his chest. She shrugged, a pang of guilt shooting through her at being so short with Ed.

"Sorry….I just have a lot on my mind," she lied stiffly, turning away from him.

Now you're just being childish. She chided herself as her eyes flickered across the precinct, realizing she just stormed off away from her work space. She conceded to dig around for more information about this inside murder case.

Later, when Bree made her way back up the familiar staircase, she noticed the door to the forensics lab cracked. Peering inside, she noted a tall, slim figure bent over in a chair, his hands cradling his head. Her lips parted slightly before closing again and her knuckles gently wrapped on the wooden door, pulling it open.

"Edward?"

Bree's voice echoed mutely as she poked her head inside, slowly cracking the door open widen enough to slip inside. The door shut behind her with a low click. Her arms folded across her chest as she moved closer.

"Ed—" she gently placed a hand on his shoulder and he jumped, his head snapping up. She pulled back her hand and let it fall to her side. His eyes darted to her and quickly back to the desk in front of him. He rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses with a poorly concealed sniff.

"What happened….?"

He sat in silence for a moment, glaring a hole into the surface before him.

"Flass…..Detectective Flass happened," he growled, an unexpected level of malevolence creeping into his tone.

"He read my poem aloud….and they all laughed."

Bree bit her lip with an exasperated exhale.

Assholes.

"Ed, I'm so sorry…if there's—"

"—No. Leave me alone…..I need a few minutes," he almost whispered.

Her eyes flickered across his profile, resting on his frowning lips before nodding.

"You know where I am if you want to talk…"

Edward's silent form remained that way as she reached for the door. Something told her an "I told you so" moment certainly would not help.

..

The dark night sky through the window did not escape Bree's attention as she finished the last of the paperwork that likely could have been finished hours before if she hadn't been so distracted. With a yawn, she reclined back into her chair with a stretch. After a few more moments of staring blankly at the ceiling, she stood and grabbed her coat and belongings. As she grabbed her bag and moved towards the stairs, she heard a light humming coming from the lab and slowed to a stop. She stepped inside, noting the dim glow of the examination table.

"Bree!"

Her head snapped up to see Edward's grinning face at the exam table, a Styrofoam box filled with what looked to be takeout beneath him.

"What do you do with a dead chemist?"

Bree blinked, sputtering a blunt "What?" before she could think.

"Barium," he chuckled softly, staring down through the magnifying glass in front of him.

Bree couldn't help but smirk as she shook her head with a quiet laugh.

"You seem to be in a much better mood," she observed. A slight flush spread across his cheekbones as he shifted restlessly in his seat.

"There is hope," he nearly sung, looking up at her with a smile. She lifted a questioning brow.

"With miss Kringle…"

Bree mouthed a quiet "O" and clutched her bag more tightly.

"Right….because that's clearly worked out so well so far."

"Well….not every relationship goes without hitches," he muttered indignantly, his smile drooping a fraction. "She apologized. That counts for something!"

Bree swallowed hard, closing her eyes a moment.

"Look at yourself! You're too enamored to even see how much she's throwing you around without doing a thing!"

"Well, maybe….maybe if you just got to know her—"

"—I honestly don't want to know her. And really, I don't think you know her either! I think you like an idea of who you think she is, but not her as a person."

"Honestly? Honestly, I don't think you are being very fair here, Bree," he snapped back.

She stared at him a moment. They never used to fight…..bicker maybe, but it seemed the only thing they ever fought about was that damn miss Kringle.

"Look….I just…." She sighed, her palm rubbing against her forehead, "From my experience, error happens within ambiguity….and I really don't do this very well."

"Do what well?" Ed pressed, a fraction less harsh than before.

"Emotions."

"W-what do you mean?"

"Meaning, I don't want to see you hurt by a girl you don't even know…I care about you too much to watch you deal with that," she swallowed hard, "Especially when I…." she let her words fade softer than her breath.

No. I am going to be selfish and pretend that it's only for him.

"Forget it," she said, shaking her head and turning to walk away. Suddenly, he stood and caught her wrist.

She turned back, staring at his fingers clasped firmly around her wrist. Her gaze lifted in surprise as he stepped closer, his face almost unreadable as his eyes flickered across her face. She pressed her lips into a tight line. After a moment, his grip softened, his arm dropping back to his side as he released her. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

The silence grew palpable.

She met his eyes for a moment before she turned to walk away.

He didn't stop her.

I feel like a total tool for making everyone wait for such a short chapter, but my inspiration seemed to take a hiatus with the show. It's a short bridge chapter, but really important for things to come... Also, I really have a soft spot for Carey Mulligan's short hair, and since she sort of grew to be Bree's faceclaim in a way, I thought it would be a good change physically and metaphorically. Everything changes from here! Dun dun dunnnn.