[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/qQVhfEH.jpg[/img][/center] [color=0076a3]“Johanssen!”[/color] I shouted. I was precariously perched on the scorched skeletal wood remains of the second floor of a cooked four floor apartment. No object had remained untouched by the lashing tongue of the flames that had swept through the neighborhood last night. What little remained of this building was its wooden support system (barely) and the red brick outside, most of which had collapsed inward when the internal structure of the building had been reduced to a smoking pile of nothing. Charlize Johanssen’s blonde head popped through the empty doorway. The door was missing, burnt to an ashy pile on the floor nearby. Her pink lips pouted for a nanosecond as she looked for the source of my voice, before spotting me on my makeshift roost. [color=6ecff6]“Chase…that’s not really safe.”[/color] My sweet little junior detective. The daughter I never had. Well actually, she's more like a little sister. Twenty-three seems to old to be my daughter. Long blonde hair, short eyelashes, neat eyebrows, medium lips, nose a little on the pointy side, and big, big, blue eyes. Johanssen's a pretty and loving women and a dedicated detective in training. I'm proud to work with her. She's more prudent than I am, and her concerns for my safety are valid. But I'm a tough guy, so "hmm" was my only response. Besides, I was pretty sure a fall from this height wouldn’t damage me too badly. Ignoring Johanssen’s look of apprehension, I pointed to the island of singed wood that floated haphazardly in a sea of air and weak support structure. [color=0076a3]“There’s a body there. An old woman, I think. Dead, definitely.” [/color] The island is decorated sparsely with the sad remains of what used to be a living room. The couch, licked by the fire last night, had been burned open, its fluffy stuffing pouring out of the ashen rips like butter yellow popcorn. The woman was strewn across the couch languidly, her body a gross husk of its former self. If I could just mosey my way across the wood beam without it breaking I could retrieve her body. I had already heard Johanssen's lungs fill with air, no doubt preparing a speech on my stupidity. Prepared to ignore her shouts of protest, I straightened myself and averaged the distance between my body and the island. Three long strides across the wooden support beam would land me on the island. I was aware that the correct amount of disturbance would cause the shaky island to teeter sideways and no doubt bring myself and the scorched corpse down with it. Weighing my options, I sighed, shaking my head. If the island collapsed, it would pull a good deal of the rest of the building down with it. Not worth it. Carefully, I made my way down to the more sturdy first floor of the building. I was greeted with Johanssen's smug face. [color=0076a3]"Fuck off, Johanssen."[/color] Her smirk only deepened. [color=6ecff6]"What'd I do?"[/color] She asked sarcastically. I pushed past her, heading for the building entrance and the heavy air outside. When she was sure I had walked a good distance, I heard the teasing clucks of imitation chicken noises coming from behind me. Asshole. I wasn't afraid. Just being prudent, like she was almost 85% of the time. Most of the smoke had cleared away, but the scent of burned wood still curled thickly in the air. I scrunched my nose, overwhelmed for a moment with what I can only describe as the scent of psuedo-barbecue. Don't ask me why, but I've always associated burning smells with barbecue. Right now the world around me was a feast of destruction. What was going on in Santa Somabra? The chaos right now was unimaginable. Werewolves, dozens of them, had rampaged through the city last night. I could smell them everywhere. During our multiple investigation for the morning I had been in a constant state of disapproval. I would shake my head every time the scent of another lycan permeated my senses and Johanssen would look at me curiously. Speaking of Johanssen, by now she had caught up to me. She was chewing on the inside of her cheek, a signature sign that something was bothering her. I looked back at her and raised my eyebrows. Our months of working together had allowed us to develop a silent language all our own. I had no doubt she would stay my partner once she graduated from junior detective to detective. [color=6ecff6]"First of all,"[/color] she began, [color=6ecff6]"How come you don't call me Barbara. I've told you a million times you can call me Barbara."[/color] [color=0076a3]"Johanssen sounds more badass. Don't change your name when you get married. In fact, make him take [i]your[/i] name. O..Or her."[/color] I stuttered out the last word, remembering this morning's incident. She rolled her eyes, smiled ever so slightly, and blushed all at once. [color=6ecff6]"Second question,"[/color] she continued, trying to brush off the embarassment, [color=6ecff6]"Who do you think did this?"[/color] She lowered her voice, squinting her blue lookers and glancing around us. There are always double agents and traitors everywhere, even in the places you least expect them to be. To be very frank, in Santa Somabra, even a friend could be an enemy. Johanssen could be an enemy for all I knew. But I liked her too much to think of her that way. Shoving my hand in my trench coat pocket, I dug around for my keys while attempting to answer her question. [color=0076a3]"I don't know,"[/color] I replied honestly, [color=0076a3]"It was a night time crime, but the night is a magnet for crime anyway. It could be the Nyte Kyngs,"[/color] then in a lower voice, [color=0076a3]"Or an incident piloted by the Nyctari family."[/color] Of course, I was lying. The smells were greatly made up of werewolf trails. I can't imagine the Nyte Kyngs enlisting a mostly werewolf army to wreak havoc on Santa Somabra. Unless they were playing some complicated game. It could have been the Hunters. But, as far as I knew, the monthly hunting session wasn't for a while now. When we were comfortably seated in my sedan, I pulled off. We were heading to the more dense area of where the chaos had taken place. It would be crawling with all manners of folks, ranging from mythical, to human, to cops which were like species of their own. I decided, on the way there, to make small talk. [color=0076a3]"So this morning,"[/color] I started off tersely, [color=0076a3]"When I barged into your apartment [/color](Johanssen lives in the end-of-the-hall apartment on my floor)[color=0076a3], you were with...another woman...naked."[/color] She blushed furiously next to me before spluttering out some words, [color=6ecff6]"First of all, I gave you that extra key in case of [i]emergencies[/i]. You gave me a key...do you see me just dropping into your apartment unexpected?!"[/color] [color=0076a3]"Ok! But it was an emergency. Wouldn't you call this entire situation an emergency? And you weren't answering your phone! And I know,usually, you're pretty on point with answering your phone. So I decided dropping in on you wouldn't be too bad of an idea. I thought maybe you were sleeping alte or somethig. Also, not to pry, but if I remember correctly, you were dating a guy about half a year ago." [/color] [color=6ecff6]"Well next time knock before you enter. Loudly,"[/color] she gave me a hard stare, emphasizing the loudly, [color=6ecff6]"Also I like both."[/color] She added on quickly, gauging my reaction carefully. I nodded, [color=0076a3]"So you're..."[/color] [color=6ecff6]"Bisexual, I'm bisexual."[/color] She nodded back and smiled. A new level of trust had just been added to our unraveling friendship. We had just gone from screaming about unexpected visits to bonding over my discovery of her sexuality. Cool. [color=0076a3]"Wow, I would have never guessed. Now we can hit on ladies together."[/color] She laughed, a cheery noise, [color=6ecff6]"Ok, but that's my girlfriend. So, yeah, but just not with her around."[/color] [color=0076a3]"That's your girlfriend? [i]Nice.[/i]"[/color] [color=6ecff6]"You should meet her some day....in less explicit conditions. By that extension, when are [i]you[/i] going to get a lady friend Chase?"[/color] [color=0076a3]"Eh, gimme some time. The bachelor life is fun."[/color] The rest of car ride passed in companionable silence. When we arrived to the more heavy [i]scenes[/i] (note, multiples) of crime, I was feeling less positive than before. The crowd developing in these areas were dense. Curious citizens who couldn't keep to themselves, mixed with nosy reporters and irritated cops. Reporters approached us and began badgering us for information we didn't have. A few cops chased them away, giving us room to breath. I searched around, hoping someone would have some updates for us.