Chapter Eleven

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A/N:Thank you all so frickin much for over 375 reads! This is so surreal!

Blair's POV

We got out of the car and walked into the building. The FBI building looked a lot less impressive than I thought it would. It looked like a regular building in the city. No one would expect for murders and crimes to be solved in there.

A bunch of agents were walking around, others were making coffee and some were working at their desks. No one even batted an eye at me, which I guess I should be thankful for. As much as I liked making a scene, I'd prefer to do it without myself being shown.

"Am I going to get my own office?" I quietly asked Neal.

He shrugged. "Maybe? You might just hang out in the conference room."

Oh. Well, that would be disappointing. I shouldn't complain though. Anything is better than being stuck in prison. "Oh okay."

Just as Neal said, I was told to go sit in the conference room until I was needed. They hadn't given me anything to do, so now I was(you already know what I was feeling) bored. I got up and went into Agent Burke's office.

Agent Burke was doing some work on his computer, when I walked in. He looked up. "Hello Blair, what do you need?"

Would it be too much to ask this? "Can I have a computer? I can start researching the hacker." I prayed he'd say yes.

He thought for a moment before replying, "Yes, as long as someone is in the room with you. Leaving you alone with a computer is like leaving Neal in an art museum."

I understood his precaution. If I were him, I'd probably do the same thing. But I couldn't say I wasn't slightly unhappy that I'd have to be supervised like a child but that feeling was replaced by the fact that I'd finally get to touch a computer keyboard again. "Thank you!" I practically skipped, not really but I was excited, back to the conference room.

Jones brought me a laptop. It was a lesser quality than I was used to but I would've taken anything.

I turned it on and found an old account that had no password. I logged onto it. It belonged to a "Missy Trai".

You can tell a lot but a person based on their computer background, like me for instance, I had different pictures of music notes rotating. Missy had a beach resort on hers. I guessed it was something she was either looking forward to seeing or wishing she could go to.

I didn't notice Neal had walked in until he sat right next to me. "Hey, how're you doing?" He handed me a cup of coffee.

"You're officially my favorite person ever." I took a sip of coffee and set it back down. "But anyways, I'm alright..."

Neal raised an eyebrow. "The dark circles under your eyes say different."

Well that's splendid. "Concealer didn't do much, huh?"

He shook his head. "What happened?"

I sighed. "Just a nightmare. That's all. I'm fine. Honestly." I changed the subject. "Are you supposed to watch me while I use the computer?"

"Apparently."

"Okay, cool." I started researching all the banks that had been hacked, what they all had in common and how far away they were from each other.

My fingers glided comfortably over the keyboard as I typed. Being on a computer felt amazing. It was a feeling that would always be my favorite thing.

I must've been typing ridiculously fast, which I had a tendency to do when I was nervous or had a nightmare, because Neal stopped my hands.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

I sighed exasperatedly. "Not really, no. I'll be fine."

"Talking helps, Blair. Believe me."

"Fine." I rested my head in the palm of my hands. "I had another dream about my parents being murdered. Happy?"

He leaned in slightly. "What happened?"

"Later. I promise I'll tell you later."

"Alright then." He sat back and watched me work.

I found out that "Enigma" has only struck the banks digitally, there is always a Starbucks near the banks(which doesn't say much because there is a Starbucks near everything) and that it always happened at exactly 3:14am on a Wednesday. Naturally, I deduced that the next would most likely happen on a Wednesday to keep up with Enigma's schedule. Or perhaps this time Enigma would struck differently to throw us off...

I stared at the computer screen, contemplating all of my facts. This guy was good. Very good. With barely any leads, and everything digital, no one had any idea how to track him down. The pressure of going back to prison unless I succeeded was also ponderous.

Neal was watching me and probably could see my faux-confidence starting to crumble. Before I started working with the FBI, I would just take out my feelings with stealing something or ice cream, but now people are asking me to talk about my feelings.

I went onto YouTube for a moment and searched for "oddly satisfying videos".

"What does this have to do with Enigma?" Neal asked with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Nothing. Watching these once in a while just helps me concentrate. Besides they're so cool and-"

"Satisfying?"

"Exactly."

After another moment of watching it, I closed YouTube. I would've probably gotten yelled at if anyone had seen me not working. Either way I felt better.

Agent Burke walked in with Agent Berrigan. "How are you two doing?"

I opened my mouth to speak but Neal beat me to it. "We're doing great. Found a whole lot of things." He explained our-more like my-finds.

"That's good. You two keep it up." He left us.

"So," Neal turned to me. "It's later."

I knew where he was going with that. "Yea. It is later. Ice cream would make this easier. Can I tell you like later later?"

"I'll have ice cream prepared at my house." He smiled. What's your favorite flavor?"

"Coffee with heath bars. Java Chip is delicious too." I pushed the computer back slightly and rested my head in my hand. "What's yours?"

"Coffee."

"Coffee was my mom's favorite too."

"Is that right?"

I nodded. "Yep. My dad liked banana with white chocolate chips and graham crackers, but only from this one ice cream place."

"That sounds delicious."

"It was. Sadly, they had discontinued it, so I haven't eaten a good banana ice cream in about four years." I fidgeted with my earrings.

"We'll find another banana ice cream. I promise."

"I'll hold you to that, Mr. Caffery."

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