One for the Records (Peregrine x Valiente)

Status
Not open for further replies.
By the sounds of the demolition occurring on the floor above him, Robert could guess what Amy was doing. What he could not begin to fathom was why she was doing it. What, had she found a note from the Outsider, or something? And what could possibly make it so urgent that she wouldn't even stop to tell him what was going on? Now she was in a house in France, busting down doors without a warrant... He didn't even want to begin thinking about the kind of mess this would make.

When he finally caught up to her on the second floor his knees were hurting so bad he was starting to wonder how much longer he could remain standing up. In that moment he swore, as soon as he got back to Lyon, he was going to look up the best chiropractor in town, and start exercising at the gym regularly. It had been so long since he had been in a chase, even if it was a chase of his own partner, that he hadn't known how bad it had gotten. What if he had been chasing a perp?

Every thought about his knees or the discomfort his was in vanished as soon as he saw the inside of the room, except for the fact that he realized his knees really could no longer support him. He sagged against the door frame, his breath coming in short gasps as it felt as though all the air in his lungs had just vanished. Robert didn't even bother to try stopping Amy as she walked out of the room. He knew where she was going, and he knew what she had just seen. The blood was fresh on the floor. She must have only shot herself half a minute ago. Half a minute too late.

Robert was still wondering how exactly she had known, the thought that the Outsider might have left a note no longer seemed so preposterous, but he couldn't bring himself to go ask her now. He could barely bring himself to do anything. Slowly he moved into the room, his eyes looking at the dead girl's face. She couldn't be more than sixteen, and her face was smooth, clean, and pretty. He couldn't stand it, but he couldn't do anything about it, either. This was the first fresh Outsider crime scene his team had ever gotten, and they were going to want to go over every inch of it for any possible clue. He pulled a glove out from his pocket, slid it on carefully, before bending down and gently closing her vacant brown eyes.

He had to go talk to Amy, before the rest of Interpol arrived and started asking questions.
 
As soon as Amy made it to the roof, she dropped on her knees. She let her head fall, her hair blocking it from view. She couldn't bring herself to cry even. She felt completely numb, and in all honesty, she'd rather cry and feel sadness than feeling numb.

She took sharp intakes of air, one after another, as if having a panic attack. She straightened her back and looked around the vacant space before titling her head back and squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, her head pounding in pain, her heart still pounding horribly fast in her chest and her legs going completely numb.

She was exhausted.

She sat down ok the floor and ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it out of her face as she stopped her almost breakdown. But no. She wasn't going to give the outsider that satisfaction. Never.

Just then, Robert stepped out to the roof and Amy didn't need to turn around, she recognized him by his footing, something she had memorized subconsciously.

"If you're looking to rant, I promise you I will throw you over the building, having knocked you out with a punch of course." Her voice sounded as normal as ever. Sarcastic, steady, confident and simply, normal. She wanted it like that, because she wasn't breaking. Not now, not ever.

So Amy stood up, fisted her dried up bloody hands as she felt disgusted by them and turned to face Robert "I will be telling interpol that I saw a note, because I did. I got a note, on the door of an old house, sticked on it like a sticky note. With a deadline and an address. And that is the truth Robert." She pierced her eyes in his, convincing him by her stern words. "I did not collect it as I was in a hurry to try and save the girl, but we both know how this went." She scoffed sarcastically the passed by him swiftly when she heard the sirens "Let's go in before they lose us." She said, her words as cold and detached as ever "We've got work to do."

She knew it was wrong not to tell Robert about the Outsider. But right now, if she did, she'd be spending days in the investigation room, being investigated and not investigating. And then when she'd be free, she'd always be tracked by Interpol. And followed. Which wouldn't be good if she wanted to see the outsider again, which she did.

So she told no one about him. And as she made her way in again, she only hoped the outsider thought this through and maybe, just maybe, really left a note for her.

But she knew for a fact he was gone now. And that he'd never make it that easy on her, but she'll deal with the 'missing note' when it came to it.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
The two moved together through the waves of Interpol agents that were continuing the blatant disruption of this apartment. Robert had already had to offer repeated reassurances that they would indeed be paying for all the broken locks he had to replace, but that didn't mean they were going to pay to fix every tiny thing that could possibly be found wrong with the house. They were a police agency, not a building repair company. The various French and Interpol agents kept the curious bystanders from leaving rooms or entering the building as they worked to clean up the crime scene.

Throughout it all, neither Robert nor Amy gave a hint at exactly how much keeping a straight face and calm demeanor was costing them. They even strove to keep it hidden from each other, although the nine months they had spent working hand in hand with each other every single day meant that was nearly impossible. The only time Robert revealed the way he was feeling was when the paramedics came in and lifted the girl onto the stretcher. her hand flopped limply out from underneath the plain white sheet they has used to cover her, and Robert had to bite his lip to stifle a gag.

The only one who was even remotely upbeat about this whole affair was a woman named Devangi, who worked with the forensics team. She had been the one analyzing the body, and every now and again a small smile would flicker across her lips. It was obvious that the Indian woman knew that it was not appropriate for the situation, because whenever she did it she would promptly bite her lip and frown guiltily.
 
All through the analyzing, cleaning, and discussion of the agents around her, Amy had only been able to focus on two things.

Robert, who she kept an eye on and saw him bite his lip when the hand limply fell. She knew he was an old man, have been in the business for long, but also he was an old man and with it, came consequences of getting tired easily, his gag reflex wouldn't be so good anymore, his chasing ability was awful, as she saw how exhausted he was when he arrived to the room where she found the girl. She may not speak about the little things she notices about him, but that was only because she knew he'd flip and deny them all, declaring he was totally fine and as healthy as a horse.

And the only next thing she focused on, was that woman. Devangi. She was suspicious. Well, to Amy anyway. She analyzed the girl's body way too happily and.. Relaxingly. Something Amy has never seen done. And that little smile of her every now and then, irritated Amy so much to the point she would have went and confronted her about it if it wasn't for Greg.

Now Greg, was a whole different story. He wasn't just the guy who silently read through the outsiders reports with them, but since Amy was the one who found the body, an agent herself, she needed to be investigated by a complete other agent than her partner. And Greg, was the guy for the job.

They went back to the headquarters, and spent hours in the investigating room and Amy felt suffocated, but never once did she let him see her exhaustion. He confronted her about the missing note and she swiftly shrugged "He must have taken it Greg. I don't know. If you were in my shoes what would you have done? Given a girl's address, a deadline and nothing else, the clock running, what would you have done? Do you really think I'd lie about something like that? " she said, her voice coming our as confident, stern and cold as ever. She pierced her eyes in Greg's, convincing him of her words, because everyone knew that you can't pierce your eyes like that if you were lying to the person in front of you. But she could. Why? That would have to go back to her tough childhood. Which she never wanted to discuss again, ever.

Greg finally cave in, after hours and hours of trying to get any more of informations, and failing, he caved in, thinking she really knew nothing else, thinking she was just a victim of the outsider's torture.

Which she actually was, but not in the way Greg thought. Because Amy felt horrible, guilty and much of a killer rather than an agent. But she wasn't about to tell anyone that, nor let anyone see her weakening. She wouldn't go down without a fight. A hell of a fight that is.

Soon, Amy was back in her apartment, where she lived alone. And she felt so relieved when she closed the front door behind her, as if blocking the outside world from her own when she entered her home. She turned her phone off, not wanting to speak to anyone right now, not even John, she'd deal with his concern later.

She went in her room, dumped her coat and quickly went to the bathroom and stripped from her bloody clothes in which she felt as filthy as ever. Greg hadn't let her even change before trapping her in the investigation room, afraid she'd slip from his fingers like she always does. He knew she had a way around, and he wasn't about to let her even breathe before being done with her. He was that serious and cruel when it came to the outsider's cases.

She didn't bother putting her clothes in the laundry basket, but directly in the trash can, never wanted to wear them again even if cleaned. Then she stepped under the hot water and rinsed away all the blood and tried to rinse away the guilt. But failed.

When she was done, feeling slightly better, she walked out, a towel wrapped around her wet body, her hair dripping wet on the carpet as she made her way in her bedroom, changing in a pair of grey sweatpants and black tank top.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
As soon as Amy had fled the building, the Outsider had left it as well, descending down the stairs and calmly walking out into the morning air. He wasn't concerned about getting spotted by someone, simply because he knew it wasn't even a possibility. By the time that Amy was once more on the plane back to Lyon, he had already made it there, and had sequestered himself away in a comfortable room on the third floor of an apartment complex. There he sat, cross legged, on a couch, and sent his mind away from his body to watch Amy.

He couldn't help the smile that curved up his lips when he realized that Amy had not told about his existence. She was making this too easy for him. Now she could never tell them, not without risking getting taken off the hunt to find him, or even completely suspended. Now she would have to help hide his existence.

He waited, politely, until Amy finished her shower, before his eyes flitted open again. One hand reached out blindly and closed over the phone, and he dialed a number. The line began to ring.
 
Amy sat on her bed, drying off her long hair calmly. She put no music on, something she always did when she was alone in her apartment. But today, her mind was too swamped with questions, thoughts, guilt that she couldn't even bring herself to put on some freaking music. But she liked the quiet.

The quiet that was rudely interrupted by her house phone ringing. Her very first thought went to some crisis going on, because this phone never rang except something was terribly wrong. Her phone calls always went to her cellphone, but now that she turned it off, nobody could reach her but by calling her at home, and she only gave her number to two people: John and Robert.

She quickly stood, leaving her wet towel on the bed and her wet hair framing her tired pale face and made her way to her desk. For some reason she knew something was up, house phonecalls were never a good sigh. Never.

She took a breath and answered the call, raising the phone to her ear. Logically, she assumed it was either John or Robert, so naturally she went with "What's wrong?" as soon as she answered, her voice coming out soft yet completely serious.
 
"I don't know," replied the voice on the other end of the phone. "Why don't you tell me?" Through the slight static of the phone, it could almost have been the voice of any man. A salesman, trying to make a sale over the phone, or a man trying to collect your political opinions. Almost.

"After all, you are the one who lied to Internal Affairs, aren't you?"
 
Amy stood still, frozen to spot. Her eyes fixated on the cut newspapers in front of her, all of which were headlined with his murders. She stood silently, and she could hear his breathing through the phone when he finished his words and she still fell silent. It had to be a full minute before she was able to speak up, but not because she was afraid, but because the whole day's event went through her mind again as he spoke, and for a second, all she saw was the girl's dead eyes.

"How the hell did you get my number?" She ask, her voice cold, emotionless, but most of all, composed. She wasn't going to let him win. No, she was going to fight. She may have lied, but she did this for everyone's sake. She knew if she told, the one chance for her to catch him would have died. But now, she had him, even if he was twisting with her own sanity. And even if putting him behind bars was going to be the last thing she'd be able to do before losing her own sanity and even die, she will go for it. And if there's only one true thing about Amy, it's that she always keeps her word.
 
"It was kind of a silly thing to do," the Outsider continued, his voice conversational. It was clear from his attitude that he had either not heard or was completely ignoring Amy's question. "Now, you are going to have to spend the rest of your time covering for me! I mean, I could wander right into the Interpol offices, and you wouldn't be able to say a single word. Because, if you did and I got away, you would be fired for concealing me from the higher ups, and then you would never, ever be able to catch me."

There was a faint chuckle on the other end of the line. "You put yourself into my pocket, and I didn't have to do a single thing."
 
Amy clenched her jaw. His husky, relaxed voice was getting her the more angry. But she took her time, and took a silent breath. She closed her eyes and counted to ten before speaking up, her voice normal, not angry, not anything.

"You put a girl's life in danger, that's what you did. And now she's dead because of your twisted games." She then chuckled humorlessly and shook her head "You wouldn't walk into my office. You may be crazy enough to show me your face but you'd never walk into my office, I think we both know that. You may have gotten me in a difficult position, but that doesn't mean you are one hundred percent free to do whatever around me." She couldn't help the smirk growing on her face. She had a couple of ideas, but she didn't know how to put them to work, perfecting them so he wouldn't catch her.

"Now, what do you want? I have other cases to solve." She looked at her desk and almost sighed but didn't. A few other cases were laid down, they were probably small ones, ones Robert saw through and put his notes in before passing them to Amy.
 
"I was curious to see what kind of reaction I could garner from you, Hastings," the Outsider replied, with surprising candor. "So far, I must say I'm not impressed. I expected more from you. But apparently all you can manage is maintaining a civil tongue, and that only barely. Maybe I was wrong to pick you."
 
Amy stayed calm, sitting in her chair and turning to the files, she wanted to do only one thing tonight. Show him nothing. She wanted to see his reaction to this. She knew he wanted to twist her. And now, she wanted to twist him.

So she stayed in her chair and while he spoke she hummed quietly, a song, called '9 Crimes' as well as she opened the first case. He ignored her earlier, and she was going to do the same as well.

"You wouldn't know about the Johnson's murder would you? I mean, if you're going to stay on the phone to chat shit, might as well work." Her voice came out surprisingly soft and almost.. Sweet.

She took a breath and spoke louder "45 year old Micheal Johnson was found dead in Paris, in his bed, his neck wide open" she grimaced at the picture while she read "Ugh, this is disgusting." She murmured and continued, but sat up as she read further "Police think it was his wife. But as Robert put here, he has a mistress as well. Ah men, you are all the same you know that? You're all twisted, in your own way. But maybe you're their leader or something, you know, more twisted than others." She almost joked. It was as if her own feelings were blocked away, and she felt nothing, she was being as sarcastic and bitter as ever but yet, seemed very normal and even sweet. "Honestly, I think it's his daughter. It's said here that he has only one daughter and although the mother said they had a good relationship, her daughter didn't show up at the funeral. She ran from her own house two weeks before the murder. Police didn't think twice about her because they have her on security camera at the time of the murder, out, in front of a pub 2 hours away from her house, smoking. And there's a disc here, let's see shall we?" She said, almost forgetting the phone in her hand as she spoke and put the disc in. She watched and scoffed "God, whoever edited this is such an amateur. How did the police not notice that this was edited and all?"
 
The Outsider was content to remain silent through Amy's talk, but when she finally trailed off into silence he began to speak again. "Better," he offered politely, before following up with a faint 'tsk'. "But still not good enough. Really, Amy? Michael Johnson? All the things you could do, and you ask me about him? You must not want to catch me as much as I thought you did. I'll give you one more chance. One more chance to show the skill and creativity I thought you were renowned for."
 
Amy set the file down as she heard his words. And for a moment it was like talking to Robert, pushing her to show him her best, but the difference was that Robert usually does this to help her. The outsider on the other hand, does this to torture her.
Amy sighed and rubbed her forehead as she spoke "Whatever I ask from you, you will just throw it at my face by twisting with your own words." She kept silent for a while then leaned back in her chair. "Alright, here's a question." She kept thinking about his words, and tried to connect them to the dead girl, and narrowed her eyes at the wall before speaking up again "When the Forensics came to take the girl's body, the woman who inspected her on the scene kept trying to hide a smile. Why, do you have her on this twisted game of yours or is it something you've done to the girl?"
 
The Outsider paused for a moment, before he burst out laughing. "Neither," he replied, once he was able to contain his humor. "I'm sure she'll tell you exactly why she was smiling soon enough, and then you will realize exactly how stupid that question was. Goodbye, Amy. Next time, I won't make it so easy on you." There was a faint click as the line disconnected.
 
Last edited:
His laugh annoyed Amy. She rolled her eyes and didn't bother with a reply before he hung up and she couldn't help but mutter "Asshole".
She sighed and got up, going to the kitchen and getting a glass of water before going to bed.

The next day, Amy got up at seven in the morning. Earning her only two hours of sleep since she kept tossing all night until she fell asleep at five. She dressed in a white tank top, a black blazer and black skinny jeans. She brushed her long hair and decided to keep it down for the day, not in a messy bun. She put her usual light make up on, consisting of light foundation, mascara and black eye liner. She then slipped on her black boots and made her way out, not bothering with breakfast, her coffee was enough as she was late.

Once she was at Interpol and as soon as her foot touch the floor inside the building, everyone looked at her. Some with pity because she was the one who found the girl dead, and others looked at her with narrowed eyes, unsure because of the note that the Outsider wrote to her and suddenly disappeared. She kept her eyes straight ahead and made her way up to her office, stopping when she sees Robert. She goes up to him and smiles politely "Hey grandpa. Did the Forensic lady come yet?" She asked, using the nickname he so much hated, grandpa.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
It was clear from the moment that Amy walked in that Robert hadn't gotten much, if any, sleep last night. Whether that was because he had stayed up late, once more staring at the case files as he spread them out over the floor, desperately trying to find a piece he had forgotten, or if his sleep had been haunted by the image of the girl, lying in a pool of her own blood after taking her own life, it was clear that he was barely functioning at this point. A cup of cold coffee sat on the desk, likely to be drunk anyways simply because he didn't feel he had time to get up and go make a new one.

So tired was he that he didn't even bother to rebuke Amy for the irritating nickname. He looked up from the paperwork on his desk slowly, dark rings around the bottom of his eyes, and blinked a couple of times. "Morning, Hastings," he replied, setting down the pen with a click. "What forensics lady?"
 
Amy raised an eyebrow when she first saw Robert. The look on his face was enough to tell how tired he was. She sighed and stood in front of him, her arms crossed "Have you even went home and slept? You look like shit Robert. No offense."

She went into her office for a second, putting her keys and phone down then walked out to Robert again "what do you mean what forensics lady? The one who inspected the girl's body at the crime scene." She frowned lightly, clearly Robert needed a few hours of sleep "Okay Grandpa, as soon as we have all our meetings done today, I'm taking you home myself and you are going to sleep, with no case files at home."
 
Robert snapped his hands down onto the desk with a sharp crack. "Don't you dare patronize me, Hastings. I may not have the eyes of a twenty year old anymore, but even I know we had a whole team of forensic agents at the crime scene, gathering material from every available surface, three of them were women, and most of them are still in Paris, sorting through material that is too sensitive to put on a two hour plane ride for the Lyon office.

"Now," Robert continued, picking up his pen again, "Either you need to decide that you are ready to start telling me everything, or you need to get the hell out of my office."
 
Amy wasn't scared of the way Robert reacted, but she was, indeed, shocked. She looked at Robert and stayed silent after his words. She couldn't tell him, could she?

She rubbed her forehead and sat down on the chair before him, he was her partner she needed to tell him. She knew this was coming after all, and Robert had every right to get angry at her, if she ever pictured herself in his shoes, she'd already be stalking her partner to find out the truth.

Amy sighed and stood up "Fine, you want the truth?" She asked then took the pen from his hands, ignoring his protest as she took a blank sheet of paper and wrote down then passed it to him before she went to the door and held the knob.
'Meet me at the parking level -3. You'll get the truth.' Was written on the paper as she made her way out and closed his door.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Top Bottom
Back