|M| {The Demi-Divine Detectives of Old Dunaway Street} |1x1| Alura x Bluemoon |

[Alura]

"Shut up! Fit Mario is your Uncle Billy!?" Nikola burst out in a cackle, remembering the red shirt he had worn with his overalls and his mispronunciation of her name just as Flora highlighted it. "Oh, no, I had no idea that was that Billy! I thought he was someone the building manager recommended, HA!"

Feigning injury from the playful punch leveled at her, she slumped into a chair and draped an arm across her face as if she actually had some shame.

"I don't know, I'll need to see his collection of flannel shirts before making a decision. I'm also not fond of being locked in towers by giant fire-breathing lizards and forced to make endless cakes. Nothing against the cake of course." Peeking out from under her arm to see if Flora had taken pity on her stricken ruse, she ruined it with another laugh.

"Oh, pffts. You are forever selling your own contributions short. Without you in the mix we would still be keyless, so I'm glad that I am on your side and not the side of crime! Evil-doers, they will pay! Or what have you."

Rambling into her coffee cup as she drank down the last of it, she perked up at the mention of shrimp. "Augh, seriously, I'm growing heavier the more we talk about it. I'm picturing those seasoned oils."

Mimicking a drool, she bent her head over the pictures with the other woman. "You transferred them from email," Nike repeated as if she were proud of something a toddler had done. It was by no means a sign that she thought less of Flora's intelligence, only that the other woman sometimes seemed so in tune with a life outside of phones and computers and the like that it pleasantly surprised her when she made inroads into something like routine use. Eyes roving over the images alongside the watchful pair of her partner, she nodded, "Two copies is a stellar idea, I hadn't even considered that."

Eyes forlorn as the bakery box closed on another surprise breakfast, the dark-haired woman cracked a smile as her hair was ruffled and swatted after the other detectives's hips as she exited the room. Calling after her she added, "Hmm, we can take the sampling kit in case we want to swab for blood or anything else interesting we find. We can have the testing done at the lab. Is the luminol still in the fingerprinting kit? We might need that also, if not."

Pouring herself and quickly downing another half-cup of black coffee, Nikola finished tidying the kitchen and bounded to her desk to read over a few more documents and update her notes before they left. She also made sure to make glossy photocopies of the pictures Flora had obtained through her father's contacts, making sure to back up the digital prints on both her own devices and their spare drive as well. Pinning the last of them up onto their evidence boards, she glanced out of the window at the rain and then to her partner.

"Ready to saddle up the blue battleaxe?" She inquired, referring to the car.

[bluemoon]

“Ohhhh...pftt...how could I forget the sampling kit. See? This is why I keep you around. It’s not your bubbly personality or your tech knowledge...it’s your memory. I need notes for everything...good thing my head is attached,” Flora said with a laugh before she sat down at her desk. She made a mental note to check the fingerprint kit for luminol, then plopped down in her chair.

She dug into the files, trying hard to concentrate, but giggling occasionally as Nicola’s exaggerated enactments invaded her investigative process. The thought of Billy and Nike on a date was the most amusing...him in a flannel shirt...and her decked out in a gingham dress. She nearly snorted at the image, realizing she had no idea if Billy even owned a flannel. She was going to have to ask him now.

“Wanna do a spa day after dinner with dad?” she called out, once again distracted when she thought about the poundage Nike would complain about magically acquiring after they had the hearty meal tomorrow. “...and...I almost forgot to mention...Dad wants to show off his new place too...so plan to be amazed and enthralled...otherwise he’ll make you redecorate.” Wadding up a sticky note from a pile on her desk, she flung it towards her partner, pretending afterwards that it didn’t come from her. Of course, it had to be from the portal above her desk that was always opening and tossing random items from her desk...yep...that was it.

Pulling the key out of her purse, she wove it through her fingers while she read over Mr. Sutter’s information...over one finger...under the other...and repeat. Focusing on the repetitive motion helped her relax, which in turn helped her absorb the facts. Trick of the trade, she thought as she glanced over her shoulder, idly watching as Nike made copies of the pictures. Managing to transfer them from her email had been the easy part. Getting them from the phone to the printer was another story. Looking back down at the paperwork, she promised herself she would learn to do that one day...after this whole mess was cleared up.

She was humming to herself and on her third file when Nike reminded her of the time. Glancing up, she dropped her feet to the floor and closed the file on her lap with a clap. “Yes...yes...let’s fly. Phew, I lost track of time.” Dragging her tennis shoes over her feet, she popped up and gave her friend a grin. “I have the key...and the code for the elevator penthouse access...6119..don’t forget that.” Grabbing her umbrella as she passed by it, she opened the door and waited for Nike to exit.

Once they were both inside her Prius and seat-belted, Flora eased into traffic and drove the ten miles to the apartment complex, parking her car in the underground garage and ensuring she was in the center of the spot. “Ready?” she asked as she reached behind her and grabbed up the bag she had prepared with their equipment. “We are the follow-up crew...working with the police on the case...just in case we happen to be stopped and asked about our dealings with the Renharts. Okay?”

[Alura]

"Haha, good to know that I still have my uses!" Nike quipped back cheerfully.

She was giving every indication of considering doing actual work when the prospect of a spa day was broached. The face she made at Flora was something half-way between disbelief at being asked such a silly question and the knowledge that a real, serious detective would perhaps not take a spa day at the outset of what looked to be a juicy - and lucrative - case.

Still... They had to eat. And drink. And there was the small matter of the interview with the accused trust fund baby. Flora really should get to pamper herself and if I talk her into a mani-pedi then maybe I can expense it as preparation for said interview with the very attractive Mr. Sutter.

Blinking with a suddenly too-benevolent look, Nike agreed. "You know, that sounds lovely. I hear that they have a great new deep tissue massage that I have been meaning to try. My left shoulder has been so tight lately."

Rolling the indicated shoulder, she winced as the contracted muscles resisted flexing. "I'm getting old, I fear."

Laughing at the second-hand threat, Nike shook her head, "He would only force me to redecorate if he wanted to punish himself. Without you, this office would look like Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street had decided to become a detective. Also all the plants would be dead so... They appreciate it also."

After a moment's thought she added, "But not you, Ollie! I completely have your back and your feeding schedule. Watering schedule. Oh, no, does this one need 'food' again, Flora?" The weight of her lack of plant knowledge tipped onto her like a tonne of bricks again and she suddenly feared for Ollie's life.

"You need a snack over there, Ollie?" She rifled in the long thin top drawer of her desk. "Do you eat Sharpies, by any chance? Or... birth control pills?"

Sliding the catch-all closed again she made a small, disgusted sound at herself for her lack of human snacks as well.

Mind easily sliding directly on to the task of photocopies, she left Flora to her reading in peace until she noted the weather and the hour. At the affirmative, she slid on her blazer and wished she had thought to bring a heavier coat. It had been so mild when she'd ventured into the office she had miscalculated how long these rains would last. With a sigh, she trailed behind her partner, the smile on the other woman's face as she finished tying her shoes infectious. Nike smiled as well, nodding.

"Six-one-one-nine. Feelin' fine! 1-1-9. Siiiiiix eh eh nyeh." Dancing through the door and down the step to the inner corridor, she buttoned her jacket and listened to the preparatory instructions Flora shared on their way to her Prius.

Studying the part of town they found themselves in, the detective found it curious that even in such well-heeled neighborhoods people were still people. No matter how many times they had seen that truth born out, it always surprised her that in such beauty there could also lurk such violence always close at hand. There were some things in life that respected no title or position, and that was one of them.

Sliding out of her thoughts, Nike nodded to Flora. "Ready, ready! Follow-up crew, got it." The little rush of discovery prickled along her neck and she shivered from more than the cool of the day. "Lead on, Madame Field Expert."

It was, despite the intrigue of the case, a rather drab day. Fitting, for investigating a murder. As they passed through the elevator that lifted them to the main lobby and walked across its lavish open spaces and rich designs, the opulence that industry had brought to their town was never more apparent. By the time they had arrived at the next elevator to head up towards the penthouse, they had passed at least a dozen women wearing Winston or Bulgari.

"Oof," she said as the doors to the lift began to close. "Must be nice."