STRUTTING DOWN THE CONCRETE SIDEWALK, Saniyah's Christian Louboutin black high heel pumps clicked steadily, matching the pace of her walk.

"So, what do we got?" She asked, crouching in front of a dead body, pulling on black nylon gloves, careful of her acrylic nails.

"Black male, aged 19, gunshot wound in his back, a possible robbery. No finger prints and no DNA whatsoever." Another detective, Justin, read off of a paper, where he'd just finished taking notes on.

"Damn. A baby, huh?" She mumbled, turning his head, seeing his eyes still wide in shock.

"Birthday just passed too. Dante Wells, lives in Buckhead with his mom and two sisters, local drug dealer. Might've been shot by his connect or maybe just a random kid who wanted a come up." He told her, and she hummed in response, looking over the body.

"No, I don't think so." She said, turning the body over so that he laid on his back.

"What do you see?" He asked, crouching next to her. The two had frequented a few cases together, and she was always the one to make hidden discoveries.

"You think he was shot in his back, but he wasn't. The bullet wound is rigged, do you see it? Looks like a .40 shell. But it looks as if it exploded. I'd have to get an official M.E. report to be sure," She held a frown on her face, still scanning the body.

"Your point?" He chuckled, and she did as well.

"He was shot from the front, it exited through his back. The way his body is positioned, he didn't fall like this. Someone-the killer-moved the body to be this way." She muttered, moving out of the way as forensic photographers took pictures for the case file.

"The fucking Reaper." She cursed, becoming agitated as she stood upright.

"How can you be sure?" He frowned, raising one of his eyebrows.

"No DNA, no fingerprints, moving the body. This is his signature, his clean one. Damnit." She placed her palm on her forehead, sighing.

This was his fifth body this month. Every time she came close to capturing him, he slipped out of her hands like putty.

"Rose, I think you should see this." A photographer called, and she walked over, looking at the ground a few feet away from the body.

She looked to see 'R+S' circled in a heart, made out of blood splatter. She didn't even understand how that was possible.

"Fucking bloody hell." She rolled her eyes, walking over to the coroners van.

"Mitch, I need every single thing analyzed, everything. Look for any signs of literally anything. He doesn't leave clues, but this murder was a quick one, it wasn't planned. He might've made a mistake. Find it." She told the medical examiner, talking with her hands.

"I'll get right on it." Mitch gave her a firm handshake, and she returned it, watching as he walked off, his team following him.

"You done for the day?" Justin caught up with her once she started the walk towards her car.

"Yeah. I'm tired and need to eat. I have to finish the paperwork for this first." She told him, rubbing her hands down her pantsuit, pulling her phone from her pocket.

"I can do it for you, if you want?" He nervously suggested, stuffing his hands in his pocket after they'd made it to her car.

"Yeah? What do I have to do for it?" She tilted her head, her car door open, but she wasn't inside yet.

"A date? Maybe?" He scratched the back of his head, and she smiled.

"You know I don't mix business with pleasure Justin. It's okay, I'll do it. Enjoy the rest of your day." She waved, a smile on her face as she got inside her car.

He chuckled, nodding his head and holding his hands up in surrender. She laughed, waving goodbye as she pulled away.

The smile immediately left her face once he was out of view, and she rolled her eyes. If she had a dollar for every time she fake smiled or laughed, she wouldn't even be working anymore, definitely retired with millions.

Sighing to herself, she leaned back in her seat, a quiet yawn slipping through her lips as she drove.

She pulled the gloves she wore off, placing them in the small trash bin she had in her car, then grabbed her hydroflask from her passenger seat.

She pulled the top knob off, drinking from her cold water that had lemon juice in it, her face slightly frowning at the sour taste.

Closing the flask back, she put it back in her seat, parking her car in the lot of the Atlanta Police Department.

She got out of her car, walking towards the large building as she hit the lock on her key button, hearing her car sound off twice, signaling that the doors were locked.

"Rose! How was the scene?" Rob, the receptionist sat eating a donut, which he did often-surprisingly.

"The reaper. Again." She chuckled, watching his jaw dramatically drop.

"Any closer to cracking down on him?" He asked, and she shook her head no.

"Nope." She waved, walking past his desk. She greeted a few of her coworkers that spoke to her, before making her way towards her office.

Using her key, she placed it in the knob, before unlocking the door and walking in, letting it close behind her.

As soon as she sat at her desk there was a knock on the door, making her groan in annoyance.

"Bitch don't be doing all of that." Her best friend, Jayda, walked inside holding a stack of papers.

"Girl I thought you was East or something." She referred to their chief of police, and Jayda laughed.

"Fortunately I'm not. Anyways, he wants you to sort through this paperwork." Jayda sat the papers on her desk, and Saniyah flipped through them, frowning.

"These not even my cases?" She frowned, and Jayda shrugged.

"I can't stand that nigga. I'm not doing this shit, where he at?" She asked, standing up as Jayda laughed.

"In his office. I know he sick of yo smart mouth ass." She laughed, shaking her head as Saniyah grabbed all of the papers.

"He better fire me then. Hell." She walked out of her office, making her way down the hall to his office.

Knocking on the door, she walked inside once she was granted permission.

"David I'm not filing through these." She sat the papers on his desk, and he looked up from his computer at her.

"Rose, rose, rose." He clicked his teeth at her, leaning back in his seat.

"Don't Rose me, East. I'm not doing it." She repeated, placing her hands on her hips.

"It's just regular case papers-drug charges and shit. No murders." He chuckled, and she shrugged.

"That's cool. Still not doing it. I already have to file the paperwork for my case. Find someone else to do it." She met his eyes, a small frown on her face.

"Fine." He took the papers from her, and she smirked, turning to walk out.

"You not slick Rose!" He called out once she made it out the door, and she laughed.

"Like hell I'm not!" She said back, before walking in her office.

"Smcht. How you just get a pass like that?" Jayda looked up from her phone, and Saniyah laughed again.

"His old ass like me." She chuckled, shrugging as she sat back at her desk.

"With a whole wife is crazy chile. You leaving soon?" Jayda asked, sitting up in her seat.

"Yeah. I'm tired as hell and I need some food like now." She muttered, currently filling out the paperwork for the murder scene she'd just left from.

"When's the last time you ate?" Jayda frowned once she shrugged.

"I been working doubles. These bodies been coming in like crazy, I haven't even slept." She mumbled, focusing on her writing.

"Saniyah." Jayda frowned at her, and she cracked a smile.

"I'm fine. I'll do better, foreal. I be genuinely forgetting." She told her, and Jayda shook her head at her.

"Saniyah one of these days you're going to pass out. You keep putting this job over yourself and I don't like that." Jayda folded her arms, and she chuckled, running her fingers through her hair.

"I will do better. I promise." She looked up, and Jayda rolled her eyes, standing up.

"You better. Cause next time Ima knock yo punk ass out." She leaned over to hug her, and Saniyah laughed, returning it and kissing her cheek.

"Be safe Jayda. Love you." She rubbed her back, before pulling away.

"I love you too. Bye bye." She waved, walking out of Saniyah's. Her office went silent, and she sighed to herself, continuing to write.

It took her about an hour to complete the paperwork for her case, and she still had to question the family members tomorrow and dig into the victim's background.

Saniyah groaned as her back ached, grabbing her purse and the coat to her pantsuit, as well as her keys.

She turned out the lights in her office, then locked the door behind her, making her way out of the building, too tired to speak to anyone else.

She arrived home within twenty minutes, and once she walked into her house, the smell of her strawberry cream incense filled her nose, and she exhaled.

"Ugh." She tiredly threw her keys into the small bowl near her, after locking her front door.

Pulling her heels off, she held them in her hands, walking towards the back where her room was located.

She placed her heels in the correct shoe box, then threw her coat in her hamper, pulling all of her clothes off and placing them there as well.

She walked in her bathroom, running her some hot bath water, pouring her epsom salt in.

Spending about a half hour in the tub, she took a shower afterwards, cleaning the day's work from her body.

Stepping out, she wrapped a towel around herself, tidying up her bathroom, before walking out.

After moisturizing her body, she pulled on a pair of brown laced panties with the matching bra, throwing on an oversized tee to finish her night look.

Her house was quiet, per usual, the only sound to hear was her patting her head, trying to scratch her scalp without going underneath her wig as she walked to her kitchen.

As soon as she grabbed her refrigerator door handle, there were heavy, hard knocks on her front door.

"What the fuck?" She grabbed a gun from the holster underneath her cabinet, walking towards the door.

"Who is it?" She called, her side against the wall, taking her gun off safety.

"FBI!" A loud voice called from the other side, and she frowned, turning her locks and swinging the door open.

Remembering that she wasn't wearing bottoms, she only opened it enough to see her head, a deep frown on her face.

The loud sounds of helicopter blades whirring flooded the streets, and she saw three large SUV trucks with federal agents in front of her house.

"Agent Vincent Jones, Washington Field Office. Saniyah Rose, I need you to come with me." He showed her his identification badge, and she looked over it, before frowning.

"Can I ask why?" She tilted her head. She didn't even know anybody, and nobody knew her, so why was the FBI at her house?

"Classified until we get in the helicopter." He told her, and she internally groaned.

"Helicopter?! My god. Let me put some clothes on." She huffed, closing the door.

A few different thoughts pertaining to nothing in specific filled her mind, racking her brain for any reason the FBI would be at her house as she got dressed.

Saniyah was a homicide detective, and a psychopathic behavior analyst for the city of Atlanta. She'd never been in trouble and she completed every case that she had without corruption, so she wasn't sure why they were at her house.

Dressing in a sleek black pencil skirt with a white top, which she tucked into the skirt, completing her look with a black blazer that matched her skirt.

Putting on the same black red bottom heels that she'd previously took off, she sprayed perfume on herself, grabbing her purse and releasing her body wave hair from the bun it was in.

She ruffled it in the mirror, hearing the same hard knocks on her front door, making her rush out of her room towards it.

"I'm ready, damn." She muttered, locking her front door.

She followed him over to a truck, getting inside with the held of another agent, who she thanked, before the driver pulled off.

"So?" She looked over at Agent Jones, and he didn't respond, looking straight ahead.

"You bring three trucks of agent and a helicopter to my house and won't tell me the reason why?" She asked, frowning.

"Your phone?" He held a box out as the truck stopped, and she looked to see the helicopter on the ground in front of them.

She pulled her phone and AirPods from her purse, putting in the metal sound proof box that he had, immediately cutting her electric signal.

"Let's go." He nodded towards the helicopter, and she opened the door, getting out of the truck and following him.

"Watch your head." He helped her up the steps to the helicopter, before getting on with a few other agents, and then it took off.

"Soooo?" She gestured with her hands, wanting to know what was happening.

"Dayvon Bennett. Ever heard of him?" He asked, and she tilted her head.

"Who hasn't?" She rhetorically questioned, and he kept his face flat, not humored at all.

"He turned himself in a few hours ago. Gave us some information about fugitives on the hot 100 list. Bennett has over a hundred bodies to his name, was tied to plenty of terrorist attacks and assassinations. Which you know? Yes?" He informed, and she nodded.

"So yeah, he turned himself in. He's willing to stay captive, as well as provide more information about other fugitives under one condition : that the only person he talks to, is you." He told her, and she frowned.

"Me? Why?" Her head slightly jerked back in confusion.

"We were hoping you could answer that." He chuckled, looking out the window as they flew above water.

"Well I can't. I've never handled a case of his before, I never even read his file. I can't help with this." She told him, and he didn't respond as the helicopter hovered over a large building that was built coming from the water.

Saniyah recognized the body of water as the North Atlantic Ocean, and the building was the only thing in sight besides the water, which ran for miles and miles and miles in all directions.

"What is this place?" She asked as the helicopter landed.

"DC metro sorting facility. A post office, if you will. Just outside of Washington, got here pretty quick huh?" He chuckled, and she nodded.

"It was abandoned and slated for demolition 12 years ago. The bureau acquired the building after 9/11." He rose his voice so that she could hear him over the whirs, making their way towards a large, older elevator.

"Been operating a variety of covert operations here ever since." He told her, pressing a button, and the elevator began moving down.

"So.. this is a blacksite?" She looked over at him, and he chuckled.

"The post office." He corrected, and she rolled her eyes, chuckling as well.

"This is confidential? I'm guessing?" She asked, following him off of the elevator.

"Completely. That means nobody, not a parent, boyfriend, or even a kid can know. Bennett's case is high profile." He told her, striding his walk.

"I'm sure you've went through my background, which means you know that I don't have any of those." She said, and he shrugged, chuckling.

He knocked on the door of an office, and once permission was granted, he walked inside, gesturing Saniyah to follow him.

She did so, looking up to see a man standing up from his desk to greet her.

"Idris Cooper, head director of the FBI. It's nice to meet you." He held his hand out to her, and she clasped hers with his.

"Saniyah Rose, the pleasure is mine." She gave him a firm handshake, and he nodded, gesturing her to sit down.

"So, I'm sure you've been updated by Jones?" He looked over at Vincent, both of them nodding.

"Yes sir. I'm not really sure how I can help in this situation. I don't even know him." She told him, crossing one of her legs over the other.

"Ms.Rose, graduated from Spelman at the age of 19, college courses took in high school. That's neat. Finished Harvard at 22? You're up there huh?" He pulled his glasses off, looking at her.

"I don't like to brag." She shrugged, and he chuckled, nodding.

"You should. This is good. Anyway, what do you think Bennett want's from you?" He closed her file, and she looked up at him.

"I'm not sure. That's what I'm confused about. I don't know anything about him besides the basics that literally everyone knows." She told him, and he nodded again.

"Well, I guess there's only one way to find out." He stood up, and Vincent did the same, Saniyah as well.

She looked around at her surroundings as she followed them down a flight of stairs, and then past many agents typing at computers.

Walking deeper through the third floor, they entered an office where six agents sat, headsets on, each doing different things.

She looked up at a large TV screen, seeing Dayvon Bennett in a impenetrable metal box, shackled to a chair, a blank expression on his face.

"He hasn't spoken a word in four hours. Hasn't asked for a drink or to use the bathroom, nothing. Just waiting on you, Rose." Cooper told her, and she didn't respond because she didn't know what to say.

"You ready?" Vincent looked over at her, and she sat her purse down.

"So I just, what, talk to him?" She asked, frowning.

"He's going to give you details on the case of a few fugitives on the hot 100. He'll probably ask you a few questions, but you're not obligated to answer. If you need anything, just signal. We'll be on standby." Cooper told her, and she ran her fingers through her hair, nodding.

Turning to walk out, she followed the directions of an agent, finally making it to the area where he was being held.

As she approached, the top and the sides of the cell slowly slid back and his eyes locked on hers, a satanic smile gracing his face.

She sat down in the chair in front of him, crossing her legs as she racked her brain for a way to start this conversation.

"You added highlights to your hair?" She pointed out, seeing his front dreads blonde, twisted with his black ones.

"Do you like it?" He smirked, and she shrugged her shoulders.

"Sure, yeah, it looks nice. The last time I saw you in the news they were all black." She said, and he didn't respond, scanning his eyes down her body.

"My eyes are up here." She snapped near her face, and he trailed his eyes to lock his gaze back on hers, chuckling.

"You don't even like wavy hair. Why don't you have curly?" He asked, and she had to keep her head from jerking back, because no one besides herself-or so she'd thought-knew that.

"Tell me about the meeting that happened a few hours ago." She switched the subject, and he slouched a bit, unable to move much from the shackles he was in.

"You look beautiful. I like your pumps." He looked down at her heels, her white toes sticking out of the opening of them. She hated closed toe heels because they made her feet hurt.

"Bennett, details please." She urged, not seeing the point in pointless conversation.

"Von. I'm not a prisoner, no last names, Rose." He retorted, tilting his head, a smile on his face.

"You're not?" She gestured to him being shackled, and he chuckled.

"I could've left hours ago. I just wanted to see you, and I wasn't disappointed." He licked over his lips, taking his bottom one between his teeth.

"So you chose to speak to me because you think I look good?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

"I'll tell you about the meeting if you answer a question for me first." He said, and she tilted her head the other way.

"Okay. Shoot." She crossed one of her legs over the other, her hands in her lap.

"Come closer." He lowered his tone, and she shook her head no.

"Okay. When Washington blows up in a few hours, don't say I didn't try to help." He shrugged, a lazy expression on his face, and she frowned.

Sighing to herself, she stood up, her heels clicking against the ground as she walked to stand in front of him.

"Come here," His voice rasped, and refraining from rolling her eyes, she leaned down so that her face was in front of his.

"I don't know what type of fucking game you're trying to play, but I won't participate. If you wanna speak with me, it'll be about my damn job. I'm not a sex toy, stop looking at me like that. I'm not here to help you relieve yourself, I'm here to put psychopaths like you-behind bars. Do you fucking understand me?" Her eyes were locked on his, and he held back a groan, licking over his lips.

"Loud and clear mama." He smirked, and she kept her face flat.

"What's happening in a few hours Dayvon?" She questioned, and he leaned up so that his face was closer to hers.

"In three hours and fifty seven minutes, a nuclear fission bomb will go off. I don't know where, you'll have to figure that out on your own. A high dosage of uranium and plutonium, which means it'll take out the entire city, wherever it is. You've already wasted a minute." He told her, speaking in a low tone.

"How am I supposed to find it?" She asked, watching as his eyes searched her face.

"The Chemist. He built the bomb. Find him, you'll find Horace and his people." He told her, meeting her eyes.

"Thank you." She stood back upright, turning around and walking away, hearing the machine whir as the cage closed around Dayvon once again.

He watched her hips effortlessly sway as she walked, her hair doing a light fluffy bounce with each step she took.

He licked over his lips, slouching more in his seat, ready to have his fun with her.

for grandson, zoo will come blam some 😎