:3

To say that Felix Beauchanon was excited with his school arrangment would have been the overstatement of the century. He pressed his forehead against the glass of his car, his iPod turned up as loud as it would go to drown out the sounds of his parents. They were chiding him about the responsibilities the new school would bring and the lack of communication that was going to happen. He nodded blankly, watching the trees pass with a numbing boredom.

His school had shut down due to improper funding, so every student was being scattered around the country to various schools that would accept them. Felix Beauchanon had been accepted into Eidolon Institution. His parents had been excited that their son could be accepted into such a prestigious school. The excitement the news may have brought to Felix was dulled by the realization that his best friend was going to a school halfway across the country. They had promised to keep in contact with each other, but Felix wasn't a blind optimist. He knew that neither of them would put the effort into remaining friends.

Felix had never been a social creature. Other teenagers found him to be unnerving; the way he'd much rather observe his surroundings than chat up a random stranger, and the way he preferred the company of books than the company of humans. At first impression, Felix was little more than a rebellious teenager – his iPod served to isolate him, and he had taken up a cigarette on more than one occasion. Most people didn't get past the first impression. He wasn't sure anymore if it's because nobody wanted to know him, or if he didn't want them to know him. His therapist had bored him on that point a lot, before she decided that he was just going through a 'phase' of self-inflicted loneliness.

Cheap ass therapists.

His sister, Elizabeth, tugged the headphones out of his ear. “Are you even listening to us, Harley?” She demanded, taking the iPod from his hands and shutting it off. “We're trying to tell you that you're going to have to get along with people at this school.” She wrapped up the device and handed it back to him with a smirk on her face.

“Don't call me Harley.” Felix muttered, pulling the hood of his jacket up. His older sister was always calling him by his middle name, mainly because she knew that he wasn't the biggest fan of it.

faithfully

“You look nice today.”

“Go to hell.”

Andrew Mercer held his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay then.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and dropped my gear beside my desk, sighing dramatically as I flopped into the uncomfortable, beaten up office chair. I leaned forward, letting my head come to rest against the flat oak surface of the desk. Blonde hair pooled around my head. I squeezed my brown eyes shut and listened to the busy sounds of the building around me.

“Kill me.” I murmured. I waited for the smart ass comment I knew I'd receiver from my partner.

“I'd rather not. What's the matter, angel?” If I'd have been looking at his face, I knew he'd have been smirking. I groaned.

“Life is the matter. And my name is Allison. Not angel. I don't like it when you call me that.”

Andrew snorted. “I know you don't. That's why I do it. What's the matter with life? Wait, I got it,” He paused, playfulness entering his tone. “You're hungover.”

My head shot up. I glared across at the thirty year old man that sat across from me. Blue eyes stared back. I narrowed my eyes. Andrew's face stayed the same. Frustrated, I threw my head back down onto the desk and and groaned.

“I hate you.”

Andrew Mercer. Born in Los Angeles, California. Thirty years old. Six foot two, with blue eyes that accented a pale face. A head topped with dirty blond hair. Body of a God. To put it into simple terms, the man is gorgeous, something I hate to admit. His drawbacks, however, are plenty. Though he resembles a male model, he is loud, obnoxious, and annoying in general. Andrew has a habit of flirting with every woman he sees, and makes no attempts to hide his attraction to me. I am constantly brushing him away from me and getting him out of my personal bubble. It's a wonder they ever allowed him onto the police force.

Los Angeles Police Department. My employer since the age of twenty four, when I transferred from the Baltimore Police Department to live on the golden coast. The transition from Baltimore to L.A had not been an easy one. Then again, no transition is easy when you're one of homicide's top investigators.

I opened my eyes again as another person entered the bullpen, the area where the homicide team's desks are all located. Sneaking a glance at my watch told me who the person was right away. The voice that called out also helped a bit, too.

“Morning, Andy.” Zach Todd said, dropping his bag on the floor. I looked up and smiled brightly at the brown haired twenty six year old.

“Hello, Zachary!”

Ever since I first joined LAPD, I've always called Zach by his full first name. It's a habit I can't escape.

Zach Todd is a good kid. A year younger than me, he joined the force right out of university, something I have never understood. You see, Zach is a genius when it comes to computers. I, on the other hand, could touch a computer for two seconds and break it. Zach could be a computer programmer, or an engineer, but he chooses to live his life as a homicide detective like myself. I have a great respect for Zachary.

Of course, that's partially due to the fact that I dated him for six months.

Zach is cute. That's the bottom line. For a man who is so nervous around women, he's one of the cutest guys I know. With shaggy brown hair that falls over two brown eyes framed by square glasses, he looks like the high school nerd that the cheer leader would have a secret crush on.

Zach and I are better off as just friends.

“Morning, Ali.” Zach said, smiling warmly at me. Across from me, Andrew rolled his eyes.

“So you get a 'hello Zachary' and I get a 'go to hell'?” He asked, hurt entering his tone. I rolled my eyes at him.

“I like Zachary. I don't like you.”

Instead of placing my head back on my desk, I instead settled for watching Zach put his things away and get ready for the working day. I checked the clock. The time read nine in the morning. I switched focus to Andrew and nodded at him. He nodded back. All three of us knew that in less that a minute, our boss would be arriving.

“I totally meant what I said before, Allison.” Andrew began softly, “You look nice today.”

I sighed. It was better to be nice to Andrew than to have to deal with his incessant whining all day. I was about to respond when a man in his late forties stalked his way into the room. Upon seeing him, Andrew, Zach and I all straightened up. I leaned over my table top, trying to make it look like I was doing something important. Andrew picked up the phone, talking to an imaginary person over the line. Zach turned on and typed away at his computer. No one said a word. The many people in our office scattered. Mark Grant walked nonchalantly to his desk and sat down. Zach looked up. Andrew looked up. I looked up. Mark stared back at us, face expressionless.

“What?” He asked. Andrew smiled tentatively.

“Morning, boss.”

Mark said nothing. Andrew's smile faltered.