So, school's started for me again. That means even more infrequent updates. Sorries ;-; I'll try to put them up on the weekends, but we all know just how reliable a promise like that is.

I'm ecstatic that you like the AkaKuro hints hahaha. I am personally dying at all the different feels. All the ships. I just want this to be a harem. Also, thank you all for the lovely reviews! =D You guys made my day. Again.

And nope, I can't conjure up anything extra I need to mention, so!

Enjoy and let me know what you think!

"Aomine-san." The said man looked up from his computer screen at the source of the urgent voice with a questioning glance. One of the clerks who manned the front of the station stood beside his desk, arms clasped in front of her and looking very obviously flustered.

"S'up?" he asked, leaning back against his chair. Opposite him, Midorima's desk was empty, as the green-eyed man had upped and disappeared into the shadowy recesses of the archive vault in search of material that Aomine wasn't really sure they needed.

"There was a lady that came in and she was very worked up. We've tried talking to her, but nothing any of us says will stop her crying and get her to explain to us what is going on," the clerk sped up as she went along, looking increasingly frantic at the thought of the new arrival. She shot him a pleading look. "Will you please talk to her?"

"Sure." He returned with a reassuring smile. He leaned around her to look at the front of the station, frowning at the lack of drama that a sobbing woman usually brought along with her. "Where is she?"

"We placed her in one of the interview rooms upstairs. She was starting to scare the others." She replied, sounding much calmer now that he had taken the wheel.

With a nod, Aomine stood up, scribbled something on a yellow memo and stretched over to stick it on the screen of his partner's computer. He grinned at the mildly curious look that the clerk gave him. "He throws a fit when he misses me."

Laughing slightly, the clerk nodded in understanding and returned to the front of the building, her steps distinctively lighter.

The navy-haired man made his way slowly up the flight of stairs that led to a floor lined with doors on both sides. At the other end of the hallway were a bunch of interrogation rooms, while the rooms closest to the stairs were interview rooms that were furnished a bit more cozily so as to not scare away victims or witnesses. He stopped in front of the only closed door, deducing that the frantic lady would be in there. He knocked loudly four times, slowly, and gave her time to compose herself before he turned the knob.

Letting the door swing open, he forgot his professionalism for a second as his eyes widened as he recognized the woman seated at the couch, looking fearful. Quickly, he blinked himself out of it and sent her a pleasant smile. Casually, he leaned against the door frame, making sure to remain outside, so that she wouldn't feel as though he was encroaching on her personal space. "Is there anything I can get you?"

She stared at him, bright brown eyes cautious. "P-Pardon me?"

"You could probably use a couple of drinks, but since we're at a police station, alcohol is out of the question. Coffee or tea? Water?" He kept up the friendly vibe, and was pleased to notice that her shoulders became less tense at his offer.

"Water would be nice, thank you."

"Got it. I'll be right back with it," he turned down the hallway, pulling the door behind him but leaving it slightly ajar. He filled a cup with water from the dispenser there, and on second thought, filled up another. When he walked into the room, the lady was looking much more put together. It wouldn't have been a surprise to him if she had touched up her makeup hastily while he was on the errand.

"So," he began, placing both cups in front of her. "Do you feel any better?"

Long eyelashes brushed against the creamy skin. Aomine had gotten good at judging how thick a woman's makeup was just from a glance. For a beauty like her, she didn't need much, but there was still a layer of powder that hid small inconsistencies in her skin. He caught himself thinking that Kuroko's skin was in so much better condition, and he probably did little more than wash his face.

"They must think I'm really weird." Her expression was sheepish and slightly forlorn. "It's just that I've been holding back all this while and when I got here and they started asking all these questions that I couldn't answer, I got frustrated and everything just spilled out."

She inhaled deeply, staring fixatedly on the cups in front of her. Dark eyes studied her profile in silence for a while as he considered his options.

"Since I want to avoid upsetting you by asking questions you don't know the answer to," he stated. "Why don't you tell me what questions are alright to ask?"

"I—" she stopped suddenly, and reached into her bag, procuring a small brown envelope that was unmarked. She handed it over to Aomine, evidently glad to be free of the burden. Silently, he accepted the package and shook out the contents.

The envelope was full of photographs. All of them of the woman that sat across from him, sipping delicately on her drink, the shiver in her hand almost imperceptible. The photos were taken at various times, as was obvious from the different outfits she wore in all of them. Angles varied, too, along with time of day. There were maybe three hundred of them, but what made him pause were the last few photos.

The photos were taken from an angle to the right of where she was facing, body poised in a pose best suited to showing off a swimsuit. She smiled charmingly at the camera positioned directly in front of her, and shifted occasionally, actions which were all captured in the photos Aomine held. When he reached the last one, he slipped them back into the envelope and looked up to see her watching him somewhat apprehensively.

"May I keep this?" She nodded in reply, twiddling with the Styrofoam cup she held, having finished the water in both of them. "When did they arrive?"

"Yesterday morning," she said. "I didn't have the time to look at them until this morning though."

"Anything like this happened before?"

She shook her head. "I keep my personal life low-key. Only people close to me know where I live, and the security in my building knows to not let anyone up unless I say it's fine."

"Was this the envelope it arrived in?"

"Yes. It was in front of my door, not in the postbox."

"Didn't you find it suspicious that it was in front of your door?" Aomine asked, trying hard not to make it sound like he was berating her.

She shook her head, "Sometimes my manager gets the security to drop things off in front of my door when he's in a rush."

"Why not the postbox?"

"He's concerned that stalkers would somehow get to them since the postbox is in a communal area."

"I see," he mumbled thoughtfully. He reached into it and pulled out the pictures of her photoshoot. "Did you see anyone taking pictures of you during that photoshoot?"

"No," she said, looking downcast. "I didn't see anyone with a camera or a phone. And taking pictures is prohibited."

"I see," he repeated. Flipping the package he held around a few times, he squinted at it with pursed lips while he deliberated on the next step to take.

"That," dark eyes looked up at her hesitant words. "That isn't by that serial killer that's been killing models lately, is it?"

Aomine struggled against the urge to sit himself down beside the shaken woman and give her a comforting shoulder to cry on. God only knew that in all the previous times he'd given in to the entices of women it hadn't ended well for him. Also, though it was a ridiculous thought, he felt like he'd be cheating on Kuroko. He wasn't used to dating just one person at a time, so he wasn't sure what constituted cheating. Maybe he'd ask Satsuki the next time they met up.

"What makes you say that?" The tan detective worked to keep up his unruffled expression, knowing that what she wanted was reassurance but unsure whether he could give it to her in words.

"I don't know," she looked down again, fingers trembling much more evidently now. "I-I'm a model, so…"

"I can't give you anything concrete," Aomine began, deciding that the best course was to not lie. "But it doesn't look like what he usually does."

"So it's not him?" Shit. The stars in her eyes could blind a man. He wondered if she'd be upset if she found out that he was stretching the truth.

"Like I said, I can't give you a definite yes or no," it seemed all those years having multiple girlfriends were finally coming to some fruition. "But just in case it is a really fanatical stalker, I think you should call your manager and tell him what happened and ask him to come pick you up. Do you have relatives staying nearby?"

"My parents stay in the countryside, and I have a brother living in the city."

"Okay," Aomine said with a nod. "Go to your parents'. You should take a couple of months off. Modeling can be stressful."

"Yeah…" she trailed off, looking like she wanted to say something. Aomine had spent enough of his life around the opposite sex to guess what they were thinking most of the time. He still had to work on decrypting them when they were angry, though.

Pulling a small name card case from his back pocket, he pulled out a pristine white card that had the police's logo imprinted on it along with his name and contact details. Flipping it around, he scribbled down his personal phone number.

"The numbers on the front are to my line in the station and the front." He informed her as he held it out. "In case something urgent comes up or you can't get through the other lines, that's my personal phone on the back."

"Thank you," the respite in her voice was almost palpable, and made him feel light-hearted. Aomine gave her a dazzling smile.

"Anything for a beautiful woman. You should call your manager." The woman nodded blindly, the look she directed at him making him slightly uncomfortable. Had that smile been too suggestive?

Aomine stood up abruptly, the sudden urge to take to his heels slamming into him. "I'll give you the room. Make sure you check out with the front desk on your way out."

xx

"Yo, Midorima," Aomine greeted as he approached his desk. The emerald-eyed man had returned from the vault looking whole, along with an alarming stack of files that looked like they would disintegrate at a touch.

"Ahomine," he returned coldly. Holding up the memo that Aomine had stuck to his computer screen earlier, he intoned flatly, "What kind of joke was this?"

"What? I didn't want you yelling at me for lazing around."

"Going to check on damsel in distress. Don't worry, won't do anything. Don't miss me while I'm gone." Midorima's voice was soulless, as was the look he leveled at Aomine.

"So?"

"You do realize that 'xoxo' means hugs and kisses, right?"

"I figured you could use a few."

"Please don't," Midorima nudged up the spectacles on the bridge of his nose with a tired sigh. "I do not want to be associated with you in such a way."

"Bastard," Aomine shot back with a grin, too used to the barb in the other's words to be ruffled by it. "And I was trying to be nice, too."

"As I said, please don't. It is disgusting."

"Okay, okay," the tan man held out his hands in surrender. "I'll continue being a jackass like you."

At the condescending nod he received in return, Aomine wondered whether the relationship they shared could ever be considered normal.

"What is that?" Midorima questioned, pointing to the brown envelope Aomine held.

"Oh," The envelope was tossed onto the open file Midorima had in front of him. "Our guy's getting worse."

Frown creasing his forehead, Midorima shook the contents out into his hand. His eyes widened slightly behind the glasses, and his head shot up to lock eyes with Aomine's. "This is that lady we saw that day outside Takao's café?"

Nodding, Aomine pulled a random file from the pile beside Midorima towards himself. If he didn't get a start on it they'd both be there until dawn. Midorima shifted through the photos, looking extremely perturbed. When he reached the last few photos, like Aomine had, he paused and considered them critically.

"He's stalking his prey now?"

"That's not the worst of it." Aomine stated with a grimace. "He let her know that he was watching her."

The green-haired man cursed. "But how do you know that it's him and not a crazed fan?"

"Gut feeling," Aomine returned with a shrug. "There's one good thing out of this, though."

Midorima looked at him, eyebrow raised in silent askance. Aomine leaned forward conspirationally. "We know who the target is this time."

"Excuse me," The two men glanced up to see the clerk from earlier standing beside their desks. "There are three women in front who say that they're being stalked, and they want to see someone."

Dumbfounded, it took a while for either of the men to process a legible answer. Midorima recovered quicker. "Why are you coming to us?"

"They all claim to be models." She replied, glancing nervously between them as they shared a dismayed look.

"Idiot," Midorima snarled at Aomine.

"What did I do?" he burst out in protest.

"You spoke too soon." Sighing, green eyes returned to the waiting clerk. "Take them all upstairs and put them in separate interview rooms. We'll see them in turn."

xx

"Shit!" Midorima didn't look up from the paperwork he was bent over at the expletive his partner let out in frustration. Aomine groaned, rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his palms. "Three more sets. Does this guy have a fucking cloning machine?"

"It could have started months ago. Perhaps he kept the pictures he took of his previous victims." The green-haired man's voice was calm, but Aomine knew that he was exhausted as well. They had both stayed back long after everyone had left, and it was already turning into a new day.

"Maybe this is why he took those cameras," Aomine mused, folding his arms atop the desk and pillowing his head in them. He stared off into space, trying to connect the dots in his head.

"Why cameras, though?" The dark-haired man wondered aloud.

"Trophies, perhaps?" Midorima suggested, highlighting something in the report by one of the women they had spoken to earlier in the day. "He targets women who are in front of cameras constantly."

"It doesn't feel right," came the muttered response. Aomine stared at the picture of the destroyed living room of the latest case clipped to the inside flap of the open file in front of him. "Why is he so angry?"

"Starlight Agency." The tan man looked up in question to see that his partner held the report he had been analyzing in front of his face. Index finger stabbing at the highlighted words that Midorima had just read out loud, the green-eyed man said, "They're all models from the same agency."

Aomine felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Are you sure?"

"It says so on all their reports. That building we saw the Audi in front of is where the agency is located as well." The other detective almost sounded excited about the discovery. Aomine cursed loudly, the apparent distress on his face making Midorima worry too. "What?"

"That's Satsuki's agency."

xx

"Aomine-kun," Kuroko's hair looked thoroughly tussled, and his eyes were still slightly droopy from the sleep that he had been shocked out of when his doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock on the wall, it was already well past two in the morning. Wordlessly, Aomine wrapped his bulk around the much smaller frame, arms folded so tight that he was practically touching his own sides with opposing hands. The side of Kuroko's face was pressed against the taller man's chest, the muscles solid and warm. The heart below the tan skin was beating at a worrying rate. "What's wrong?"

There was an answer mumbled into his shoulder. "What was that?"

"I went for a run." Kuroko craned his head as much as his neck would go to stare at the side of the other man's head, looking flabbergasted.

"At this time?"

"I couldn't sleep," Aomine finally released the death grip and straightened with a groan. For the first time, Kuroko noticed that he was dressed in a sweater and running shorts.

"Are you an idiot?" he exclaimed before he could completely absorb the situation. His brain was sleep-addled, and he wasn't used to having hot men he dated showing up at his door in the middle of the night dressed in clothes that were not appropriate for the weather with sweat running down their face. It didn't subtract from the hotness, though. In fact, it rather enhanced it, the sight of droplets of sweat trailing down the column of Aomine's neck, and the way his chest rose and fell with the harsh breaths…

"Ow!" Aomine winced as slim fingers pinched his arm. "What-?"

"At least wear proper clothes." Kuroko wasn't going to apologize. It was Ahomine's own fault that he was starting to get turned on. It was the middle of the night! Mid-week! "It's almost winter."

"Ah, it's fine," Aomine dismissed his words with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "My body heats up from the exercise."

And he came here especially to heat Kuroko up as well? The blue-eyed man bit back the words. Aomine wasn't looking at him with any lust in his expression. He was probably just getting worked up by himself. Swinging around, he padded back to his bedroom.

"Go take a shower before you come to bed," he threw curtly over his shoulder. At least it would afford him some time to calm himself down.

Aomine stared after the retreating back confusedly. Had he said something wrong? Making his way into the bathroom, he shed his clothes, the motions automatic as he wondered what he could have done to irritate the smaller man. It wasn't reasonable to get so worked up over him wearing shorts. It couldn't be the time, the neighbourhood was pretty safe, even at night. As the water streamed down, he continued to ponder, his thoughts slowly shifting towards the case that he and Midorima were currently working on.

He had wanted to ring Satsuki up the second they confirmed that she was signed under the same agency as the other women, but Midorima had halted him. He had a valid point when he said that waking her up in the middle of the night to scare her wasn't a good idea. Especially speaking over the phone. After some consideration, Aomine had accepted Midorima's offer to go visit her in the morning and explain it thoroughly to her. Yet, his mind had been unable to rest, and there was an uneasy feeling that supplied him with an endless amount of nervous energy.

Having swept and cleaned every available surface in his apartment, Aomine had decided to go for a run when he still couldn't calm down enough to feel fatigue. His feet had led him, and he hadn't realized where he was until he was about to ring Kuroko's doorbell.

He turned off the shower, but remained standing there for a moment longer, still lost in thought. After he had dried himself off it finally dawned on him that he didn't have any clothes to change into. His running outfit was soaked in sweat, and Kuroko's clothes were probably too small for him to fit into. He ran a hand over his face in frustration. The day was over and it still sucked.

Shrugging to himself, he wrapped the towel around his waist and made his way into the bedroom. It was dark, and the form curled up on one side of the bed was completely still in slumber. Gingerly, he crawled into bed, trying hard not to move too much in order to avoid waking up the other man. Carefully, he slid forward until his body curved around Kuroko's and slipped his arm around the petite waist.

The relieved sigh he let out ruffled the sky blue strands, and he nuzzled the top of Kuroko's head gently, feeling the tenseness in his shoulders dissipate. At last, exhaustion was starting to seep into his bones, and the unexplainable anxiety he had felt the whole day seemed to just disappear. Calmness washed over him, making him glad that he had unconsciously made his way to Kuroko's place. He had never appreciated the calming effect the pale man had on others as much as he did right then.

"Aomine-kun?" Kuroko's voice was soft, and he almost didn't catch it. Aomine hummed in response.

"Why are you not wearing anything?"

"I didn't bring a change of clothes."

Kuroko was silent for a while, and when he spoke again his voice was slightly miffed. "You should just leave some here."

Aomine's eyes widened in the darkness. Leave his clothes here? It was the first time he'd been in a relationship long enough to even consider such a move.

The pale shoulder in front of his shifted a little. "Aomine-kun?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, feeling his throat dry up. "I'll bring some over tomorrow."

"Okay," a slim arm reached down and tugged at the other's until Aomine shifted closer. "Good night."

Still shell-shocked at the concept of having agreed to what amounted to a commitment in Aomine's books, his reply was feeble. "Good night."

What was even more surprising, however, was the light, fluttery feeling in his chest when he thought of leaving his belongings in Kuroko's apartment.

There was too much fluff, we need some people dying, I mean, this is a touch of a crime fic as well.

... I couldn't resist just a pinch of fluff though.