-Quan Leung-

Kenji was alright, just a little shaken up. I checked on him a little while after I returned from my break. I met him in the staff room, as I filled up my coffee mug. I had been told several times that I should cut back on my coffee, but I never paid any mind to that. I know my diet wasn't the healthiest, but I never seemed to face any of the consequences.

The attack in the interrogation room reminded me of the event that caused Candice to hire Ruarc. I was glad that William hadn't re-entered the interrogation room after collecting Kenji, that would've made everything more complicated.

I knew that Michael Lockheart wanted to hurt Kenji, and I knew part of the reason for it. Yet, I was still unsure why he didn't decide to attack me instead of the werewolf. If he was so keen to hurt people to send a message, I would've been a convenient target.

"Candice knows about what happened last night," Ruarc's voice caught my attention as he entered the staff room. The door clicked and his footsteps became louder as soon as he stepped inside. The floor of the staff room was made of a different material to the corridor. The soft carpet quietened footsteps much more than the laminated floor, which seemed to make up 80% of the floor in the whole station.

"I'm not surprised," I responded, turning around so that my back was to him. "I was shocked that Jade hadn't mentioned it. I'm valuing every moment away from my street."

"Our street," he corrected with a sigh. "I still can't believe you know Fewesi."

I snorted. "You'll get to know everyone, they're quick to make themselves known." I had to stop a smirk from settling on my face. When I first moved into my house, Cappi was found on the settee, complimenting my decor skills. They jumped around my house picking things up, much to my annoyance. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to physically remove them from the house. So, I let them have their look around. And didn't acknowledge their existence. That was until they threatened to smash something. Then I reluctantly started a conversation.

"I'm sure," Ruarc responded.

I didn't like the silence, but it was a little more bearable than it had been in the past. It irritated me because I knew more could be said, but that would also mean that I've dug deeper, something I don't want to do.

I poured my coffee into my travel mug, failing not to get any of the warm liquid onto my hand. I should be used to this by now.

"You're shaking," Ruarc commented. "Maybe you should lay off the caffeine?"

I ignored him and put the lid on my mug. "No." I then walked to our office.

Ruarc called behind me, "but you're shaking like a leaf. That can't be good for you."

"It keeps me awake," I told him and entered out office. I placed my cup on my desk and sat back in my chair. "Not sure what work I'm going to be doing though." I bit my lip and sighed. I shouldn't use any of my powers for the rest of the day, which means a sorry attempt at filling out paperwork.

"I could help you, if you want?" Ruarc offered. "I know hell-all about police paperwork, but I can write and read."

"Oh, you can?" I asked sarcastically. "I was wondering what you've been doing, knowing things that have coincidentally been written on paper."

He gave an equally sarcastic laugh. "Is that the snarkiest comeback you can come up with?" He made a ticking noise with his tongue. "I'm disappointed in you."

"Apologies, sir. I didn't know I was meant to be looking for your approval," I replied. "But, as much as I hate you. I like keeping my job more. So, if you would?" I offered some papers out to him, or generally just in front of me.

"Why would I help someone who hates me?" he asked with a whiney voice. "I don't think they'd appreciate my help."

I huffed. "If I don't have a job, you don't have a job." I pushed the papers closer to him. "See how this works?"

The papers were snatched from my hands. "Well then, you don't have to be rude about it."

I expected him to move back to his desk and read it from there, but he didn't move away from me, instead he stayed on the edge of my desk.

"Michael Lockheart, 34, works as an independent engineer, and handyman, lives in Annlier Lane. He was found-"

"Are you sitting on my desk?" I interrupted. It was irritating me that I didn't know where he was.

"Yes. He was found on security cameras leaving-"

"Why are you on my desk? It's not a seat." I moved my hands off the desk and placed them on my knee, as though that would take me further away from him.

"Because you can hear me, and I can put them down in front of you when I'm finished reading. He left the library on the night of the librarian's murder, but he was found-."

"Get off my desk," I demanded.

"Why does it bother you that I'm on your desk? You can't tell I'm here." Some air moved in front of my face, which I swatted at.

"Because it is a desk. It is a place for paperwork and computers, not your arse." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"But my arse is fine," he said before laughing. "I'm sorry, but that sounds so British. Say it again, it suits your accent well."

"Lovely, I know what words I should avoid." I huffed and leant back in my chair. I hoped that my ears weren't as red as they were warm after his declaration of confidence. "Aren't you meant to be helping me with work?"

He sighed dramatically. "I was, until you started questioning the whereabouts of my fine arse." He moved the papers around, like a stereotypical news reporter, and straightened them out on the desk. "Fine. He was spotted on the security cameras leaving the library the day before the librarian was found. Regulars at the library have admitted that there was nothing unusual about the day, or the librarian's behaviour."

I nodded along to his words as he continued to read the file to me. This was most of what I knew already, but I could add a few more details. "Could you write down that-"

"Hang on, I've got to get a pen." My desk creaked under his weight. "How long have you had this desk?" he asked, resuming his seat on the corner, much to my dismay.

"I've had it for about three years. Can you write that Michael was killing the hunters who hunted down his pack? There were also werewolves who assisted the hunters in doing so due to pack rivalries."

"Is that why they went after Ito?" he asked curiously. The scratching of the pen told me that he wrote slowly, taking time to make sure his words were readable. It was the opposite to how I would usually write.

"Yes, even though Kenji didn't have anything to do with it. He thought that the entire pack was to blame for the hunters knowing his pack's exact location." I rested my hands back on the table and tapped my fingers against the wood.

"Anything else?" Ruarc asked after a while of awkward almost-silence.

I shook my head. "I don't think anything else needs to be said. I couldn't tell if he worked with anyone, nor could I tell if any of his pack were still alive." I balled my hands into fists. "Maybe I'll have another chance to see him again."

"Well, if you do, I'll be there." He clicked his pen a few times before a small noise came from his side of the room. "Dangit," he muttered.

"I don't think throwing things is workplace policy," I said. "You're a vampire, you could have thrown that and caught it."

"Oh boy, I'm a vampire?" he exclaimed with false shock. "I had no idea, when did that happen? Is that why I have a constant thirst for blood? Or maybe that's why my teeth ache all the time? Or or, is that why I'm so handsome?"

I bit my lip and turned away from him, shutting down my computer for the time being. "Is that an attempt to make me laugh?"

"Yes, and it didn't work." He sighed. "I swear, you're so cold sometimes."

"Sometimes? I aim for all the time. That means it's not working." I handed him another stack of papers. "Read it and weep."

"Well, I'm not sure about the weeping part, but I'll read." He snatched the papers from me again.

"Hey, that's office property, and very important files. Don't ruin the one time William did his job correctly."

"Hey!" William yelled. "I heard that." He started to bang on the wall. We had been office neighbours for around three months by this point, in which time, there were far less arguments in the office.

"Okay, I'll be gentle," Ruarc replied. "Wouldn't want to tarnish William's hard work."

"Thank you!" came from the other side of the wall.

"You're welcome." My desk creaked again ad Ruarc shifted. "Oh, the case about the teddy bear."

Ruarc began to read as I put a hand into my drawer, grabbed the tissue box from inside, and placed it on my desk.

"How could somebody do that?" Ruarc asked between sobs. I hadn't quite expected him to be this emotional. I expected a tear or two, but bursting into sobs wasn't what I had thought would happen.

I didn't comment, as I feared any word would increase his crying. Vampires were truly some of the most emotional beings I had ever came into contact with. I had met a fair few, but I hadn't conversed well enough with them to experience something such as this.

"And the teddy bear?" he asked, I assume rhetorically, before blowing his nose. "I don't like those cases."

"I guess I'll try and do those cases before getting onto other work," I said, as a futile attempt at comfort. I stood up and moved around my desk, putting a hand on his back. "Can I get you a drink or anything?"

He hummed in confirmation, but as I went to walk towards the door, he grasped my elbow. "No." He hopped off my desk and led me slowly out of the room. "I've still got to follow you anyway."

That was a fair point. It didn't matter if I wanted to get him anything or not, he would still need to follow me. I sighed and shook my head. "Well then, let's both go and get you a drink."

"You're not getting another cup of coffee," he stated. "It's like your third cup today and it's not even three o'clock."

I stopped walking and looked in his general direction. "You just like to take the fun out of everything, don't you?"

He laughed at me, before tugging on my elbow. "I didn't know that Quan Leung knew the concept of fun. I thought that went against his nature."

I kept my face neutral and said, "it is. Each word burns my tongue like acid. I honestly don't know how I'm dealing with someone like you."

We reached the staff room, and I held the door open for Ruarc to enter.

"Someone like me?" Ruarc questioned. Water was beginning to boil. I was extremely grateful that we were the kind of office to have a kettle, as opposed to instant drink machines. It just tasted a little better, and it meant that it took more time out of our work. "What exactly do you mean?"

I leant against the counter and gestured vaguely. "Well, you are clearly a party animal. You get drunk and participate in...how do you say it? Fun?" My words were thick with sarcasm. "A feature I have never heard of, and then there's the fact that you do this thing, a very strange thing."

Ruarc stayed silent, but there were a few splutters of laughter mixed with the sound of water being poured.

"You laugh," I finished.

The kettle was placed heavily back on its stand as Ruarc burst into laughter. I didn't think what I said was that funny, but it seemed that he needed something a little more light-hearted then how I usually presented myself.

I really ought to keep all of the worst cases for myself.

"Like that?" he asked after a few moments of laughter.

"Precisely like that," I confirmed. "It's just so cheerful, happy, disgusting." I shook my head with false disgust.

"Maybe you should try doing it at some point? Cut back on the doom and gloom?"

I tilted my head to the side, as though in thought, and crossed my arms. "I quite like doom and gloom, thank you. I won't be returning this purchase." The fridge door closed and Ruarc started to stir his beverage, whatever it was. It didn't smell particularly strong, so it was most likely tea.

"Oh? How much did you pay for it?" Ruarc asked teasingly.

"Friends, mainstream education, and a happy childhood for a lifetime guarantee." I clicked my fingers and pointed at him.

He snorted. "I don't think that mainstream education is a positive thing."

I shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't know. It sounds fun from what I've heard."

Ruarc's cup scraped against the counter. "This is being said by someone who bought the lifetime guarantee of doom and gloom. I wouldn't consider your words to be the most valuable when it comes to what's-" Ruarc was interrupted by a shrill noise. "Sorry."

I shrugged; it was just his phone. Even though we were technically meant to keep our phones on silent in the office, nobody actually did that. It was either because they knew they could answer it straight away, or nobody called them. My case was the latter.

"Hello? Yeah, hey. How are you? Oh my gosh..." Ruarc's voice turned from curious, to happy, to devastated. I feared that he would begin crying again. "No, I'm at work. Yes, I do work now. Actually, there's no need, I'll tell them. I'm positive, I'm there right now anyways. I work there." He paused for a few minutes as the person on the other side of the phone rambled. "I'll let you know what happens. See you soon, maybe." Ruarc sighed and placed his phone on the bench.

"That sounded serious," I observed. "What's wrong?"

I couldn't see his facial expression, but the scoff that escaped from his mouth didn't seem at all happy. It was as though all of my joking had completely gone to waste. "Well, if you don't include someone I know being murdered, nothing's wrong." His tone was almost emotionless, but there was a hint of hurt and guilt that crept through.

My eyes widened and I grabbed his arm. "Murdered? Who? Why don't we know about this?"

"He was just found," Ruarc stated.

"And so, people phone you before phoning the police after finding a dead body?" I questioned sceptically. That wasn't usual. That just wasn't a thing, surely? I found it difficult to believe that Ruarc would be called before anyone else, especially the police.

"Well, I'm close to the person. I'm probably a suspect, and the person who called hates the police," Ruarc listed as he walked forward.

My hand slipped from his arm, and I followed him out of the door. "Where are you going?" I asked frantically. I didn't know why I was feeling panicked, surely it was just because of the sudden news? It didn't make much sense; this kind of thing happens every day at work. I hear discussion of murder and crime on the daily, whilst facing it head-on as a simple fact of life. It was terrible, but I have only felt this panic once before.

"I'm going to the crime scene," Ruarc whispered.

My eyes widened and I tried to reach out for him again. "Okay, I usually wouldn't care about what people want to do, but you're not thinking clearly. Ruarc!" I had to jog to keep up with him. "Ruarc."

"Quan," he said my name so simply and sternly that I nearly fell back in shock. I recognised that tone as one I used all the time, it was my default offence. "I need to check on their family and to see if there's anything suspicious."

I nodded my head in understanding. "Yes, but don't you think it's best that you tell the other members of the investigation unit? We could help. Their death needs to be recorded."

Ruarc turned in my grasp and put his hands on my shoulders. "Quan, we can't tell anyone about this. This isn't public, or police, crime. This kind of stuff doesn't get investigated by your team or anyone like that. I shouldn't have even told you." He paused for a moment, his breath hit my face, he was so close. "But I can't convince you to forget about it."

I felt blood drain from my face, and I shook my head, trying to get out of his grasp. "No, you can't," I said sternly. "Nor can you stop me from following you."

He turned away and sighed. "Fine, just be careful."

Ashford road was run-down and quiet. It was difficult to get to the end of the street without stepping on a can of some sort. Shouting came from one of the houses, and loud chatter came from in front of us.

"Here he is!" someone called. "Ruarc, thanks for coming." The person's footsteps were heavy, and they smelled of smoke. "Who'd you bring?"

"Not important," Ruarc brushed off. "He's here to investigate."

Something hit me on the chest, it had a lot of pressure behind it, but I didn't stumble backwards. I had been warned that I wouldn't fit in here, and that the scene was horrific. I didn't know if he meant the street, or if he meant the actual crime scene.

"He ain't part of the police, is he?" The voice came from a few inches away. "You know how that ain't allowed, Arc."

"Don't touch him," Ruarc said after a slapping sound echoed through the air. "He's none of your business, but what is my business, is what happened. What do you know?"

"Alright, be your over-protective, rude self. You ain't foolin' no-one." The person patted Ruarc's shoulder before leading us forward.

"Oh heavens no."