CHAPTER 3
VIGILANTES

IRIS had spent a week closely studying all the local news stations, just waiting for one to pick up on the story about the antique shops, but none ever did. They were all obsessed with who killed who and what the President did now. It annoyed her to no end that her local news networks hardly reported shit on actual local stories. She wasted so much time skimming through the bullshit stories, hoping that one channel would provide her with more evidence that she didn't have, but it all came down to nothing. She didn't even like the news anyways, weirdly enough.

But here she was, combing through the small amount of channels she had on cable again, because Iris Kingsley really couldn't get a grip. Especially, when she was fascinated by something. (She really should work on that.) Her coffee grinder buzzed loudly in the background, crushing the beans down to soft, tiny flakes. Iris almost put on an old rerun of Spongebob – because who doesn't love a classic, am I right? – but upon flicking to the next channel, she released an audible groan at the sight of the CBS News logo.

"Not this shit again," she mumbled, shutting off her bean grinder with a quick press of her finger.

But then she was hesitating, fingers brushing lightly over the pitcher containing her beans, as she narrowed her eyes at the news title on the screen: MASKED VIGILANTE FIGHTING AGAINST DETROIT CRIMINALS. Her stare shifted, flittering upward at the video playing above the title. The footage was practically black and white, with a dark figure running through the dimly lit streets of the upper east side, where all the rich families lived. You know, the type of people that could afford to have a security camera and the only ones who would have a clip like this. The vigilante tore through the street on foot before they were chased down by a large van, and as soon as a person stepped out of the vehicle, the vigilante went on a rampage. Iris could hardly see a thing in the blurry video, besides the masked person completely beating the other man to shreds. It was horrifying. (But in a totally cool way, if she were being honest.)

The camera panned back to a female reporter standing in the harsh rain outside. "Police have yet to identify the masked vigilante, or speak with the public at all on this matter," the reporter spoke loudly over the storm.

"Yeah, that's because we haven't heard about it," Iris scoffed towards the TV screen.

"All the information we know is from what we can see happening in the security footage," the reporter went on, "and I think it's pretty clear to say, the masked stranger can fight. It seems he was being chased down by a pack of criminals locally known as the Crusaders, a group of brothers swarming the city streets for teen girls to traffic. The vigilante left the brothers unconscious and bloody, long enough for the police to find and arrest them. However, after not offering to work with authorities, Police Chief, Ivan Angeles, and his staff are now wondering if this could be the work of a violent sociopath. For CBS Detroit, I'm Liliah Puckett."

The Chief knows about this and hasn't said anything? Her thoughts ran wild with curiosity. I wonder if we're going to have another one of those –

The grinder began to buzz again, causing Iris to notice that she had accidentally pressed down on the button again. She almost jumped out of her skin before finally turning off the coffee grinder. "Nice job, Kingsley," she muttered to herself, lifting the pitcher off the sensor and pouring her freshly-ground beans into a tall, glass container. The news rattled on in the background, and Iris groaned under her breath.

"Enough of this shit," she huffed, picking up the remote that laid on the edge of her kitchen island. "The last thing we need is our very own Batman."

•••

Lightning crackled throughout the sky that morning. Dark clouds hovered over the majority of Detroit, swirling and creating destructive patterns over their heads. Iris could hardly hear anything over the rumble of the train tracks. Even her earbuds were powerless against the thunder that pounded in the air, so loud that she almost questioned if it were right near her ears. It drowned out the manic elderly man that never stopped laughing. Lucky her.

She was late for work. When the rain was so bad, when the thunder and lightning cracks were so brash that you wondered if your ears were bleeding – somehow the DDOT stopped working. It always had something to do with flooding or the driver not being able to see well. Whatever it was, rainy days in Detroit were outrageously inconvenient for Iris. She liked her schedule. She liked coming into work at the same time every single day, but it was difficult when she lived in a city that acted like the world was collapsing over a mere drop of water from the sky.

When she finally arrived at the station – thirty minutes past her usual time, might I add – she was greeted with a series of confused looks and judging eyes. No one expected Iris Kingsley to be late, and when she was, that meant the day was already going to be off to a bad start. She hurried over to her desk, shaking the rain off her soaked jacket before hanging it on a coat rack. She tried sitting down as quickly as possible to get back to her research, but that resulted in her almost tumbling off the desk chair. Charlie watched with a widened stare, perplexity hinted in her dark brown irises.

"Are you okay?" She asked, standing up and leaning over the wall that separated their cubicles.

Iris was frazzled. Her hair stuck up in all the wrong places and felt matted down by the water that leaked from her hood. Dark circles creased under her eyes – which wasn't uncommon on her, but they had never looked that dark before. "Does it look like I'm okay?!" She exclaimed, causing eyes to shift her way again. Iris caught their muddled expressions and sent each a glare.

"Well, no," Charlie replied, "but I thought that it wouldn't hurt to ask."

"I need a cigarette," Iris huffed, completely ignoring her coworker's comment. She ripped open one of her desk drawers where she usually kept a spare pack of Newports. But upon picking up the box and shaking it, she realized it was completely empty. Iris threw it back into the drawer and released a loud groan. "Of fucking course."

She lifted her head again, taking in Charlie's perplexed stare. Iris noticed she went for a more subtle makeup style this morning. Pink lips that matched a soft mauve shadow on her lids. Iris ran a hand through her messy waves before resting her chin on her fists. "My train was late," she explained, "which means today is already off to a horrible start. I hate being late."

"We all know." Charlie shook her head. "It's not a big deal, Iris. No one's gonna care if you're late, besides Dick, but ... he hardly notices anyone around here."

Iris released a humph while turning on her dinosaur of a computer. It was an old Dell system from 2011, so it wasn't that old. (But still a dinosaur, you know?) With heavy eyes and a disappointed expression, Iris logged into her computer and tried ignoring the time stamp that was haunting her at the bottom of the screen.

Charlie started tapping the top of the cubicle wall aggressively. Iris swung her gaze up and narrowed her eyes. Charlie's head was turned in the other direction, veering towards Dick's office at the end of the hall. A large grin graced her lips. "Oh, my god, Iris," she whispered – but quite loudly. "Jesus, how are you not seeing this?!"

"I don't have time to fuck around today –"

"Dick keeps staring at you."

Iris froze, eyes remaining on her bright computer screen. She didn't dare turn in Dick's direction, nor did she want to say a word. Charlie was continuously tapping at the wall, but Iris was drowning out the sounds, trying to focus on what she was here for: to work. And yet, her mind was going blank. Her next thought had vanished. She couldn't do a damn thing.

"I probably shouldn't be staring back like a crazed lunatic, huh?" Charlie giggled, looking back at her cube mate. She frowned when she realized Iris hadn't acknowledged the entire interaction. "Have you talked to him more?"

With a sigh, Iris pushed back on Charlie's hands resting on her cubicle. "Can you sit down and stop staring, please?" She whispered. "And yes, we have spoken. But I made it pretty clear how things work around here, so he isn't going to be bothering me anytime soon."

Charlie's face fell. "You're really going to ignore the presence of one of your bosses again?"

Iris sent her a sarcastic smirk. "Yep," she replied, popping the P for emphasis.

The other girl sighed, rubbing at her eyes in the most dramatic way possible. Sometimes, Iris wondered if Charlie was constantly practicing for a breakout role on General Hospital. "Well," Charlie huffed, running her hands down her skirt, "if you don't go in for the kill, then I will."

Iris raised a brow, allowing a soft chuckle to release from her lips. Charlie spun on the heel of her red bottoms, straightened her back, and began to stomp her way over to Dick's office. Iris peered over the wall of her cubicle just to watch, but found Charlie already making her way back to her desk. Her heels hurriedly clicked against the linoleum floors. Iris narrowed her eyes, and then glanced to the side.

Charlie hadn't gotten within ten feet of Dick's office, because he was walking over to them.

Or was it just for Charlie? She fucking hoped so.

His voice was loud enough to silence the ringing in her ears: "Iris."

Don't you dare look up. Don't you fucking look up! But there she was, lifting her chin in his direction, taking in his messy hair and dark circles that weirdly matched her own. Iris had never been so mad at herself for not simply listening to ... well, herself! His brow was bushy and furrowed. His taut frown turned into a tiny smile when she focused on him. Iris felt her whole body stiffen.

"So –"

"I was late, I know," she interrupted before gesturing to her monitor. "But I'm already back to work and I'll make up for my lost time. I hate tardiness, especially –"

Dick lifted his hands. "I didn't come over here to talk about your lateness." He turned around, scanning the station for any wandering eyes. "Pretty sure everyone here doesn't care."

Iris looked to her computer, and then back to him, growing silent. She licked her lips as a fresh wave of anxiety flooded through her veins.

"I came over here to – um –" He looked up at the ceiling, jaw clenching. Iris lifted a brow and followed his gaze. There was nothing up there. "I came to apologize."

Their stares met again. Iris narrowed her eyes. "For what?"

Dick rubbed a finger over his upper lip for a short second – but it felt like the longest of her life. "I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday," he finally replied. "It was my fault. I went about talking to you the wrong way. I just wanted us to find some common ground. You know, as partners."

Iris met Charlie's eyes from over the cubicle wall. Her teeth grit as she turned back to him. "It's fine. Like I said, that 'common ground' shit really isn't my thing anyways."

"I know, I know," he said quickly. A soft huff escaped his lips, and he reached into his back pocket to retrieve something. When he brought it out, Iris realized it was a folded piece of paper. "This is for you."

After a moment of hesitation, Iris lifted her hand, fingers crackling through the wave of static in her ears, and took the paper from his calloused grip. She swallowed hard and glanced at him again, before finally opening the paper. It was a phone number.

Are you shitting me?

"It's my number."

Charlie gasped and accidentally flung her pen across the floor. Dick knitted his brow together as she collected the pen, exclaiming, "False alarm! Just a pen on the loose!"

Iris had been raising a brow in Charlie's direction, and then casually looked back down at the number written in thick, black Sharpie. She met Dick's gaze again. "Yeah, I can see that."

"It's for emergencies. In case you need anything: help on a case ... stakeout companion ..." The sides of his mouth lifted into a smile. Iris' mouth went dry. "That's what partners do. Even independent ones."

She tilted her head to the side, contemplating her next set of words, even when he turned on his heel to walk away. Dick looked over his shoulder and sent her another smile, which jolted her out of her own thoughts. She spun her chair back to the computer screen, before meeting Charlie's excited stare again from over the cubicle wall. She was grinning from ear to ear.

"Now, this is one guy you can't ignore, Kingsley!"

•••

A/N: no one:
not a soul:
iris kingsley: MEN AIN'T SHIT