Thomason "Tom" Strands 27 Detective with the Detroit Police Department. Monday. Apr. 20. 4:15am The slow, measured ticking of the cat clock that hung on the wall drove Tom crazy. He ,wasn't sure if it was the ticking or the fact that it's unbelievably bright black eyes were constantly fixed upon him. Sure, his lover, who lay sleeping beside him, looking like the angel Tom knew he could be if he ever really wanted to, could argue that the cat clock was looking at him, but Tom had the cat's number. He knew what was going on it's sick, kitty-cat, mechanical mind. The realization that he had just thought of a cat clock as a being a living, thinking...thing...had him moving from bed, stretching before padding quietly towards the kitchen where the sweet, heavenly nectar of the gods awaited. It was ready, in all it's glory, in the top right hand cabinet beside the sink and Tom grabbed it, preparing it as quickly as he possibly could. If Tom was being honest with himself, as he sometimes was, he would clearly inform himself that it was not a cat clock or even the coffee that had kept him anticipating the night. It was the time he had to work. Alone. His partner at work was good at his job, yes, and he loved falling asleep in his lover's arms and waking up there too, but the fact would always remain that he needed to work alone sometimes. He needed to be stress free. He took his cup of the god's drink and made his way to the office area to go over the cases he had been recently awarded. There was a kidnapping, which looked to be wrapped up quickly if the mother was right in assuming that it was her ex-husband.. There was a disappearance that had been pushed aside for months and was just now being sent to him. Tom had little hope for it. The last one was a murder. Just one so far, thank god. He remembered still how bad the city had reacted just ten years ago, when a serial killer had been loose. This case had been kept fairly hush-hush as far as he knew. He didn't need to really watch or read the news when he practically lived it everyday, or heard about it from those who did it. Brushing back his black hair, he settled on a bit of a sigh before opening the files. He had to get in some time before his lover woke up and was pissed at him for working at home again.