In the Arms of Justice

Part Four

"It's nice to see you again, uh..." the detective paused, looking down at the file.

"Y/N."

"Right! Y/N. Sorry. The name may have escaped me over the years, but I never forget a face like yours."

Your eyes went wide, color rising in your cheeks as you faked a cough.

"Well. Congratulations are in order, I suppose. On the promotion, I mean," you stated, shifting in your seat nervously.

"Why, thank you," he smirked. 'It's been I guess...8 or 9 months? Time flies when you work almost non-stop," he admitted with a chuckle.

"I know the feeling," you said in agreement. "Wait, so was that you who called me?"

"No, actually, that was my partner. He picked up this case earlier this morning from the Captain while I was in court all day. I had to testify in a trial from a case a few months ago."

"Oh, I see," you said, then letting a moment lapse in silence.

"So, how've you been?" he asked, slapping the file on the table and taking a seat across from you.

"Good. I've been good. Um...how are you?" your brain was still having trouble processing this new turn of events.

He smiled at your nervousness, "Also good. What's new? How's the boy-crazy roommate?"

You bite your lip, almost letting out a giggle at his description, "Wanda is great. Only crazy about the one now. She got married last year."

"That's exciting! You were maid of honor, I assume?"

"Good guess. The wedding was over-the-top and dramatic, just like she is. So perfect," you smiled at the memory.

"Glad to hear it. Ever join the ranks of the bloodsucking lawyers?" he asks with an enticing grin.

Shaking your head with a scoff, you answered, "I told you, I never said lawyer. I'm a paralegal. And a damn good one, too. I work at a firm that is passionate about giving back, often taking pro-bono cases related to immigration and deportation."

"How very noble of you," he added, sparking a memory of those words years ago.

"I try," you said, tapping your fingers on the table. "Although to be perfectly honest, the firm partners have offered to pay for law school if I want to go. I haven't decided yet."

"Ah, so potential bloodsucker in the making. Or a perhaps a bloodsucker with a heart of gold?" he joked, trying again to bait you. You weren't biting.

You shrugged with a smile, "Time will tell."

He gave a nod, leaning forward in his seat , "And, uh...how's the inattentive boyfriend?"

Attempting to hide a blush, you glanced down, adjusting your watch.

"Long gone," you stated, then meeting his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not," you declared without hesitation.

He held your gaze for a moment longer before turning to the file in front of him.

Clearing his throat, he spoke, "I suppose we should talk about why you were asked to come in."

"Yes," you agreed, straightening up in your seat.

"Before we get started, can I offer you anything? Water? Tea? Possibly terrible cup of coffee?"

You snorted, then covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

He laughed at your response, his bright blue eyes meeting yours.

Somewhat recovered, you spoke, "Actually, could I use the restroom? I came straight from work and haven't even washed my hands since the subway, now that I think of it..." you trailed off, suddenly disgusted that you had touched your face with them.

He inhaled through his teeth, "Yikes. Of course you may."

The Detective stood and opened the door for you. Grabbing your purse but leaving your coat behind, you followed his directions to the ladies room down the hall. Once inside, you took a deep breath and stepped up to the sink to wash your hands. Task accomplished, you leaned toward the mirror to see smudged mascara under your eyes and a smear of computer ink on your neck. How does that even happen?

Grabbing a paper towel, you wet it and attempted to clean up. This night was going to be rough as it was, might as well look decent. You even dug through your purse and found a small brush to tame your hair. Feeling more put-together, you exited to see Detective Barnes speaking in an animated manner to an officer with sandy-blond hair and a weathered but kind face.

"That wasn't me, I would never lock the keys in the patrol car! That was Rogers and you know it."

"Right, just like you never 'forgot' to charge your radio and wonder why you never got any calls that day," the officer mocked.

"Yeah, sure thing, Bird Brain."

"Hey, bird watching is a perfectly normal hobby!"

"Not in New York City! There's only so many pigeons you can classify, Barton."

"Yeah, whatever you say, RoboCop."

Detective Barnes rolled his eyes, smiling as he saw you approach.

"Y/N, this is Officer Barton, my former T.O." Seeing confusion on your face, he elaborated, "Sorry, training officer. He seems to still think he has a few things to teach me, which is ridiculous."

"Just because he's Big-shot Detective Barnes now," he scoffed. "Hardly. I could've taken the test, I just...didn't want to. I'd rather keep the uniform, patrol the streets, you know. Closer to the action."

"Uh-huh. Why don't you go patrol the streets right now, Bird Lover."

"Yeah, well, maybe I will," Officer Barton sneered, walking away with chest puffed.

The detective shook his head with a grin as he led you back into the interview room, then removing his suit jacket and draping it over the chair. He wore a dark blue button-up that accentuated his toned arms and muscled chest. You could now see the shiny silver Detective badge clipped on his belt near his left hip while a standard-issue firearm was holstered on his right. You both took a seat once again as he opened the file on the table, sobered expression on his face.

"Unfortunately, this case has been re-opened because we found another victim this morning."