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taeken-my-heart · 4 years

Text

Read Between the Lines

Summary: Solving cases was what you’d signed up to do, but solving them with your academy crush turned partner was not on the agenda.

Pairing: Yoongix Reader

Genre: Detective!Yoongi x Detective!Reader. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, illusions to smut but nothing graphic.

Rating:PG15

Word Count: 18043

Warnings: TW:Death mention TW:Crime mention TW:Prostitution mention TW:Attempted Murder mention TW:Drug Addiction Mention. Nothing is described in great detail, but Yoongi and YN are detectives and this is typical of their line of work so there will be mention and talk of cases to do with these topics. I did research but I’m sure I still got details wrong, haha. This is all just for entertainment purposes.

YN is ethnically Greek but I’ve made an effort to not describe anything about her so she can still be reader insert. I thought about naming her, but decided it might be fun just to read as a reader insert instead.

You were craving Greek food, something with a lot of Kalamata olives. And feta; lots of feta. Maybe you were just craving salt. Your stomach grumbled as you stepped from the squad car, adjusting your belt and locking the door.

The interior of Mykonos diner was a bit grungy; run down with age and frequent foot traffic, mostly yours and your partners. Blue and white mimicking the streets of Santorini and heavy with 50 years’ worth of grime, but it was your favorite spot to go. It was family owned, after all.

Scanning the heads of the patrons, you spot Yoongi’s mop of dark hair in the corner booth, his neck stretched long as he craned over his paper work; oblivious to your entry. You made your way towards him, rounding the other side of the booth and sliding into the seat opposite him. He spares you a glance and a grunt as a greeting before returning to whatever he’s writing.

You scrunch your nose at the top of his head before glancing over at the kitchen where your aunt is working, back bent with years of effort. “You want your usual, anipsiá?” She calls and you smile, nodding.

“Thank you, theía!” Your gaze returns back to the restaurant. It wasn’t lunch yet so there weren’t very many people, but there was an old couple sitting in the center of the room at the old rickety table you’d run into when you were five while playing a heated game of tag with your cousins. They didn’t seem to mind the wobbly leg as they linked fingers across the table over Moussaka and some Dolmadakia.

Yoongi huffed in frustration, bringing your eyes back to him as he straightened in his seat, hand running down his face. He looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes from late nights and too much caffeine. His eyes drooped from exhaustion as he turned his gaze to yours, scratching at the light stubble on his chin.

“I just can’t figure it out.” He grumbled, reaching for his mug; presumably coffee, taking a long sip and smacking his lips together in satisfaction.

“Take a break,” you reprimanded. “You need a clear head before you can go back to it.” Yoongi looked like he wanted to argue, but he stopped himself, lips pursed. “Have you ordered?”

He shook his head, nodding down at his mug, “Just this. I was waiting for you.”

“How chivalrous.” You smirked and he chuckled.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself; I was distracted.” He flagged down your uncle to order keftedes with a side of fries.

“And two waters please, theíos. Light on the ice.” Yoongi gave you a look after your uncle had left and you shrugged.

“You don’t run on coffee, Yoongi, you need water too.”

“Coffee is made from water.” He grumbled.

“Ok, surly, so where are you on the house renovations?” You asked, slipping further into your seat and adjusting your holster; it was digging into your gut.

“It’s gonna be a while yet, but the walls are up now.” He shrugged.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?” You asked, “You’re gonna spend all your money on that hotel and I’ve got that extra bedroom. For free, Yoongi.”

“It’s cute that you want to spend all your time with me.” He smirked at you over the rim of his mug and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be an idiot. I’m thinking of your bank account.” You chuckled.

The bell at the door rang as another patron entered and you watched as she took the booth closest to the door before diverting your attention back to Yoongi. “Why can’t we find anything, Y/N?” He sulked and you sighed.

“It’s a cold case, Yoongi. It went cold for a reason. Don’t be so hard on yourself, we’re doing the best we can. We just need to look at it from a new angle.”

“They’ve been waiting for 10 years for answers, don’t you think they deserve our effort?” He grumbled and you frowned.

“Of course, but obsessing over it is clearly not helping. Take a step back and a deep breath. We’ll figure it out.”

“Every new lead always dries up or ends up being nothing. How can you stay so positive?”

“I’m as frustrated as you are, but we’ve worked on harder cases than this. We’ve got this.”

“Here you go. Do you want some portokalada, anipsiá?” Your uncle asked, sliding your plates onto the table and turning his gaze to you.

“No thank you, water is fine for me today.”

“When are you going to bring a man around to meet us? Your mama and theía want to know.”

You sighed, slumping further in your seat, “I bring a man around here all the time.” You grin, motioning at Yoongi who looked at you darkly and your uncle laughed.

“Yoongi doesn’t count. Unless he’s going to give you babies, he’s not important. No offence meant.” Your uncle said, inclining his head towards Yoongi who nodded.

“None taken.” Yoongi replied, taking a bite of one of his fries.

As if Yoongi needed to hear your uncle talk about the possibility of impregnating you. Mortification was a constant friend of yours in the presence of your family. “OK, thank you. We’ll talk about this later during family dinner.”

Your uncle chuckled, sauntering back to the kitchen and you glanced over at Yoongi, teeth gritting in discomfort. He was too concentrated on his food to notice your frown so you sighed, grabbing a fork and taking a bite of your own food.

“You don’t have to make it weird.” Yoongi said suddenly, and you looked up at him. He was still staring down at his food, forking it into his mouth as though he hadn’t spoken.

“My uncle made it weird, not me.” You replied nonchalantly and he shrugged.

“Semantics.”

You chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure you love the idea of making me an honest woman.”

“It’s not the worst thing I could imagine.” He smirked. “Right up there with taming a bear; could be exciting.”

You laughed, kicking at his ankle under the table. “You’re an ass.”

After you’d both finished your lunch, you said goodbye to your family, walking out the door, Yoongi trailing behind you and walking to the passenger seat of your car. He radioed in a 10-8 as you started the car, pulling from the parking space and turning the car in the direction of the station.

“We’ve got a 10-35 at 387 W Simons St. Nearest officer, please respond.” Your radio crackled to life and Yoongi reached for his own, pressing the button on the side to talk.

“This is 96, we’re just a couple blocks away.”

“10-4, 96. Be advised this is a 10-33.”

“Copy that.”

You flipped on your lights and siren, driving in the direction of the address as it was listed back to you, stomach flipping uncomfortably.

“96, please be advised the suspect is not yet in custody.”

“10-4.” Yoongi replied.

Pulling into the apartment complex, you parked and stepped from the car, glancing up at the building in front of you. It was in a row of other apartment blocks, similar in color and worn with age. You followed Yoongi up the stairs to apartment C3, stepping into the living room through the open door. There were already a few officers and the forensics team strewn about the room, taking pictures or searching for evidence and you took a preemptive glance around the room for any information you’d need to remember.

“What’s the situation?” Yoongi asked, turning to one of the other officers, a older man from your unit who was taller and stockier than your partner.

He sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “Woman in her early 20’s, beaten and left to die. Her mother found her when she was bringing the woman’s daughter back home from breakfast. She’s been transferred to the hospital in critical condition. Her mother is in the little girl’s bedroom with her currently. We suspect it was the child’s father and are searching for him.”

“Is there a reason for suspecting the father?” You asked as Yoongi surveyed the room, watching one of the officers search through drawers.

“There have been reports of domestic abuse in the past and he left a few threatening messages on her phone the last few days. The captain wants the two of you to man this case so you’d better do your interviews and take a look around while you’re here.”

You nodded before walking back to where Officer Tony pointed and knocking on the door to the furthest right, the white paint chipping in the corners. An officer opened from the inside and you stepped through, looking down at a woman, no older than 55 holding a little girl in her lap whose eyes were wide and blood shot as you stepped forward.

“Hello,” you smiled gently, going to kneel down in front of the both of them. “My name is Officer Y/N, I’m here to help your family.”

The woman looked down at you, her own smile strained and you could see her efforts not to cry in front of her grandchild.

“I know you’ve already given a statement, but I will be personally working on this case and I want to hear from you what you saw so I can do my absolute best.”

“Well,” the woman started, voice shaky, “I took my granddaughter last night while my daughter was at work. She’s a single mother and works two jobs, one of which is at a bar that’s opened late so I kept her overnight and took her out for breakfast this morning. I called around 11 when I hadn’t heard from her, but she didn’t answer her phone so we drove over to check on her and found her in the living room.”

You nodded, reaching to touch her hand and she released a shuddery breath. “I told Cora to go wait in her bedroom as soon as I saw her laying there. She was badly beaten, but I could see she was still breathing. I called 911 right away and waited with her until the paramedics got here.”

“Has anything strange happened over the last few days? Anything in the last 24 hours?”

The woman shook her head, a few grey hairs slipping from the elastic of her hair tie. “Nothing that would have caused me alarm. She got into a fight with her ex a few days ago, but that’s not unusual so it didn’t raise any red flags.”

“Was anything out of place when you entered the apartment?” You asked, switching your gaze between the woman and the child, the latter of whom was still staring distantly at the wall.

“Nothing that I noticed, but honestly I didn’t look the way I should have. I was too consumed with sheltering Cora and trying to make sure my daughter was OK.”

“Thank you so much for your cooperation.” You breathed, “I will do everything I can to help your family.”

“Thank you, detective.”

You returned to the living room; shoulders heavy in thought. There wasn’t a lot that seemed to be out of place, an overturned coffee table with what appeared to be coffee stained into the carpet from a dropped ceramic mug. There was some blood, but thankfully not a lot and you grimaced.

Yoongi was across the room talking with one of the other officers from your precinct and you scanned the room for anything that could have been missed in the initial search of the room. The apartment was a little older and run down, much like the complex, but it was clear that it was loved and well lived in. Toys were scattered in a corner of the room, a Roomba lodged by the small entertainment center.

The main living space was small, with mismatched drapery and furniture that looked like it had been loved by more than a few owners, but it had its charms and you smiled despite yourself. You really hoped the doctors were good so they could get this young mom back home soon. You’d work yourself to the bone if need be, as long as the person responsible was behind bars, that’s all that was driving you right now.

When evening came, you made your way drowsily to your car, heading out onto the road and into the evening traffic. You’d worked a 16-hour work day today and would likely have another tomorrow, you needed to eat and take a long bubble bath before making your way into bed for an early night.

Typically, you were more interested in showers. A bath took too long and the thought of sitting in your own dirty water was unappealing to you, but seeing as you didn’t have a masseuse at your disposal, this was as good as it would get. You’d just rinse off the dirt and grime of the day before actually running the bath water.

Once you’d returned home, locking your door behind you, you deposited your keys and bag by the door, twisting your neck in circles and making your way to your bedroom, removing your gun from its holster and setting it on your bedside table.

You decided on a bath first. The idea of ordering takeout and watching one episode of something mind numbing before bed was sublimely appealing so you stripped down, dropping everything into your hamper and made your way to turn on the shower.

After rinsing off, you grabbed a bath bomb from the bowl sitting on the back of your toilet and stopped the tub tight, allowing the hot water to fill a little before dropping the ball into the water and sliding your aching limbs in, watching what was essentially strawberry shortcake scented baking soda fizz into the water.

You’d worked as a police detective for 4 years now and you’d often heard that eventually you’d master the ability to switch off your mind at the end of a shift, but the skill still proved elusive as you soaked your aching bones, thinking about that sweet little girl who’s mommy wouldn’t be returning home to her tonight.

Honestly, the cases involving children were the worst part of your job. Your line of work was filled with misery and crappy outcomes more often than not, and in a high paced, high stress profession where a split second of indecision could cost a life, sometimes you wondered if it would only do harm to allow yourself to get so invested. Feelings were a tricky thing and you often allowed yours to run you; like a fool. Your mother often told you, you were too soft. Greek women were meant to be strong and passionate, and while you were definitely passionate, your mother had a hard time seeing that softness and strength could be one in the same.

You sighed, sticking a toe out of the water and playing with the handle above the spout. Tomorrow night you were expected over at your parent’s house for family dinner and you already felt exhausted from it. Your family meant well, but they always asked you when you’d be bringing a man home and honestly, aside from Yoongi, you really didn’t have time to meet a man.

A 16-hour work day was not out of the ordinary in your profession and in fact, more often than not, that was the norm. You’d gone on an odd blind date or two, mostly set up by your mother, a couple of weak introductions to a friend of a friend, but nothing had ever really amounted to anything.

Either you were too busy, they were, or there was just no spark. Granted, sometimes a spark built up over time, but unfortunately you had neither the time nor the inclination to pursue that sort of thing. Not right now, at least. You were still young. Besides, any free time you did have was spent in the isles of the grocery store. Life was so exciting.

After drying off and pulling on a pair of fuzzy pajamas, you walked back into the living room, sitting down in the plush seating of your far too expensive (but well worth it) couch and pulling up some takeout on your phone, flipping through your options before ordering something you knew would get to you quickly and taste decent.

Dropping your phone beside you, you flipped on the TV, pulling up some Hulu and scanning the different shows you could watch. You were feeling a bit depressed after today so you wanted to find something lighthearted.

A knock on your door startled you and you frowned. There was no way the food was here that quickly. They’d promised fast delivery, but 5 minutes was virtually impossible. Standing sluggishly, you made your way towards the door, peaking through the peep hole and chuckling.

You unlocked the door and pulled it open with a quick tug. “What are you doing here?”

Yoongi looked about as tired as you felt, suitcase beside him, hand resting on the handle bar as he surveyed you. “I was just in the area…” he remarked sarcastically and you chuckled. “The sprinklers in the hotel went off so they refunded me but now I need a place to stay. Your offer still standing?”

“Of course.” You nodded, standing back as he trudged passed you, shoes squelching with water. “Did you manage to save any of your belongings from the sprinklers?”

You led him to the door across from yours, pushing it open and flicking on the light. You watched as he sighed, walking over to the bed and kicking off his shoes. He sat down on the edge of the bed, lifting one foot to peel an unfortunately soggy sock from where it clung.

“I managed to save most of it, thankfully. My stuff was packed in my suitcase,” he rapped his knuckles along the hard shell of his case to showcase, “it was just me that got soaked.”

“Did you need to take a shower to warm up?” You asked, watching as he stood up and pulled the mildly damp sweater over his head

“That would be great,” he nodded, glancing over at you.

“OK, well, you know where all the stuff is. I just ordered take out and you’re lucky I ordered with my eyes and not my brain; there will be plenty to share.” You grinned and he chuckled under his breath.

“Cool, I’ll meet you in the living room in 20, then.”

By the time the food had arrived, Yoongi was freshly showered and dressed in his pajamas, all dark to match the scowl on his face. “I smell like a gardening center.” He gripped, coming to sit beside you and taking the box of Chinese takeout you handed him.

“I like floral scents, Yoongi. Sue me.”

“Thanks again for letting me stay. I can pay you, if you need.” He said around a mouthful of orange chicken.

You scoffed, pushing a piece a broccoli around with your chopsticks, “You already know what I’m going to say. I told you, you could stay as long as you need, free of charge. It’s really not a big deal, Min. We work at the same place anyway so less greenhouse emissions or whatever.”

“You’re wanting to carpool?” He asked, glancing at you and you shrugged. “It makes sense, don’t you think? Partners at work, staying in the same place. We can save on gas money.”

Yoongi took a sip of his drink, staring off at the TV in thought. “I take the subway to work, actually. I’ll pay for gas, though. That can be my way of paying you.”

You chuckled, taking a bite of a dumpling. “I won’t argue with you on that one.”

You grabbed the remote, stirring the TV back to life. “I was gonna watch an episode and then hit the sack. You’re welcome to stay up after and watch whatever you want, just keep the volume low.”

Yoongi nodded, shoveling fried rice into his mouth and you started the TV show, kicking your feet up on the coffee table and snuggling deeper into your couch, blanket spread across your legs to keep you cozy.

You were actually kind of glad the sprinklers had rained Yoongi out of his hotel room. Not that you would wish material damage on the business or soggy clothes on your partner, but it was nice to have the company of your friend in a place that was normally quiet and a little lonely.

After you’d finished your food, you cleaned up the leftovers, sticking them in the fridge and throwing away the trash. Yoongi was still lounging in front of the television, eyes zoned out on bright colors and munching on a dumpling.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You called and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Thanks again, Y/N. I’m gonna watch a little bit more but I’ll make sure the volume is low.”

You nodded, heading for your bedroom before turning at the door. “By the way, I generally leave the house around 7:30 to try and avoid some traffic. If you want a ride, you’ll need to be ready to go by then.”

“Cool.” He said, digging around in a box of vegetables with his chop sticks. “See you in the morning.”

After brushing your teeth and climbing into bed, you switched off your bedside lamp, pulling the blankets up to your nose. Knowing Yoongi was just beyond the door left you with a fluttering in your stomach and you sighed.

You’d known Yoongi for years now. A rookie in the police academy the same time as you. You hadn’t known him well at the time, but you’d spoken to him enough to have a school girl crush on him that still had yet to fully fade. When you’d graduated from the academy and gone to work as a police officer, the two of you had worked in different parts of the city and you hadn’t seen him for years until you’d been promoted to detective and moved to a new precinct where you and Yoongi were assigned as partners.

In a large agency with over 100 detectives, the chances of being partnered with your academy crush were slim. At first, you’d been terrified and thought about talking to the chief about being assigned a new partner; you weren’t sure you could stay on task if his face was always around distracting you. You knew the likelihood of being switched was almost zero, though. Besides, at first, he was an absolute asshole so that crush mostly faded over time until you finally got to know him better.

He’d become a little hardened by the nature of your work, been working as a beat cop longer than he cared to admit until finally working his way up the food chain to where he was now. The problem with Yoongi was that he cared too much, wanted to help so badly that when he couldn’t, when night after night he’d come across the bodies of the victim’s he couldn’t help, talked to the women he couldn’t protect, well…it took its toll.

It’s not like he’d ever been a sunny optimist, his disposition in general was a little quiet and reserved, but he’d certainly been more willing to hope for positive outcomes back then. You knew he still loved his work, still believed people were worth fighting for, but the world was ugly and he’d seen too much of it to remain innocent. It had taken a while to scratch past that surface of cynicism to find the gentle hearted man you remembered from the academy.

Once you’d found him, he’d melted like butter in your hands, opening up and not only reigniting that young woman’s crush, but becoming one of your dearest friends. You couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in this line of work; you needed his attention to detail and his ability to push through hard things. He’d become worn with the grief, but it had only pushed him to work harder, do better, even if it had taken some of his idealism away.

****

The buzzer to the coffee pot was loud, hissing with life and you ran from your room, fastening one earring to your ear as you ripped the pot out and glanced towards the room where Yoongi was sleeping. You assumed he was up by now, though you couldn’t be sure. You hadn’t heard the shower turn on after you, but you had been listening to music so perhaps you’d missed it.

Grabbing a mug from a shelf above the sink, you placed it on the counter and began to pour yourself a cup. Today was going to be a long day, calling people in to get some interviews and maybe compile more evidence. The mother of your beating victim had indicated that it may have been the boyfriend and the recordings you’d taken from the victims answering machine seemed like a good confirmation that was true, but you were a big believer in innocent until proven guilty and you needed more evidence than hearsay.

“How many spoons of sugar have you put in there?” Yoongi gagged from behind you and you jumped, turning to look at him over your shoulder.

“What?”

He pointed to your mug, your hand gripping a spoonful of sugar over the top and you blinked. “Oh…um, I don’t know, actually. I wasn’t paying attention.” You lifted your cup to your mouth to sip, lips puckering briefly. “Oh, apparently a lot. Oh well. Did you want cream?”

You stepped in front of the fridge, pulling out a small carton of creamer and walking back to your own cup, pouring liberally before holding it out to him.

He shook his head, grabbing another mug and pouring until the coffee had nearly met the rim. “You know I like my coffee black.”

“Yeah, but what I don’t know is why.”

He shrugged, taking a large gulp of his drink and sighing happily. “Because it’s delicious.”

“Agree to disagree.” You nodded, walking towards the toaster and grabbing some bread. “Did you want something to eat? I normally grab something more substantial on the way in, but I’m hungry right now and need something to tide me over.”

“Sure, I’ll take a piece of toast.” You grabbed two slices, dropping them into the toaster and pushing the lever down.

“Butter? Jam?”

“Just butter.” He hummed over the top of his cup, taking a seat at the table and you nodded, bringing the crock over to the kitchen table for him. “Thanks again for letting me stay. I really feel guilty about not paying you, though. What if-”

“Yoongi, if you even try to slip me a few coins I’ll chop your hands off. Seriously, no payment necessary. I’m happy to help. Besides, we already agreed on gas.”

“I could have you arrested for threatening an officer.” He smirked, leaning back in his chair and you grinned over your shoulder.

“Oo, handcuffs, don’t threaten me with pleasure.” You wiggled your eyebrows and he huffed with laughter.

“Raunchy. Never knew you were into that sort of thing.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” You agreed, slipping the newly toasted bread onto a plate and sliding it to the center of the table next to the butter. “Bon appetite.” You grinned, slathering your own toast with butter and taking a bite, Yoongi’s widened eyes making you grin.

***

The office was slow when you got there, Yoongi trailing behind you still munching on the breakfast burrito you’d stopped for on the way. He hummed happily; steak burrito shoved hallway into his mouth. “Dith you know dees hal fren friz in dem?” He mumbled around his mouthful, sitting down at this desk and you grimaced over at him.

“Finish your mouthful first, you animal. I didn’t understand a thing you said to me.”

He chewed quickly, swallowing and turning his burrito to face you. “Did you know these have French fries in them?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “it’s their signature thing.” You took another bite of your own burrito, more civilized than Yoongi, and leaned over to turn on your computer.

“We need to get some people in here today.” You said, setting your food down on your desk. “I was thinking we should get in family members, friends, that neighbor who claimed they saw the ex-boyfriend outside her house and then him too, if we can.”

Yoongi nodded, clicking against his keyboard animatedly, “the report says the victim has two brothers, let’s start with them.”

“You wanna call them and I��ll try getting ahold of some of her friends?” “Sure.”

You pulled your notes from yesterday, scanning through the phone numbers you’d been given and holding the pad up for Yoongi to type in the one of the brother’s numbers before you looked back over it and punched in the number of one of the friends.

The morning was spent calling around and setting up interviews. So far, the only one with something relatively interesting to say was the neighbor. The family members and friends’ statements were aided by conjecture but they hadn’t been there so they didn’t have much of substance to give.

You didn’t blame them, but it was frustrating. So much hearsay and not enough evidence. Your heart told you it was the ex-boyfriend, but without reasonable evidence, gut instinct was worthless. You could only hope that his interview would be more interesting than all the others.

At 11am he walked through the doors, gazing around the room and you motioned to Yoongi before standing and moving towards him. “Mr. Grant, I’m assuming?”

He nodded and you motioned for him to follow you. Yoongi brought up the rear, closing the door to the interrogation room. Mr. Grant was tall, intimidatingly so, with his hair shaved close and tattoos peaking from every gap of clothing. He looked like he’d never taken a day off from the gym and you grimaced at the thought of what a fist like that could do to your victim’s face.

“Did you want anything to drink? Coffee? Water?” Yoongi asked, hand still holding the door handle.

“I’m good.” Mr. Grant replied, adjusting his jeans before taking a seat.

“Thank you for coming in to talk today,” You began, flipping open the file with your victim’s paperwork. You pulled a picture from the file, sliding it across the table. “Can you tell me how you know this woman?”

Mr. Grant looked down at the picture, pulling a face you couldn’t quite decipher but keeping his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. “Ex-girlfriend.” He said with a shrug, “we’ve got a kid together.”

“Cora?” You questioned and he nodded. He didn’t seem surprised by the picture; cold and callous in his appraisal of her beaten face in vivid color. “When is the last time you saw Cora?”

He sighed, running a hand over the top of his head, fingers fidgeting, before sliding back in his pocket. “Few days ago. I’ve been busy but I usually have her on the weekends.”

“You’re not concerned at all that the mother of your child looks like that?” Yoongi questioned, pointing down at the picture in front of him. Mr. Grant glanced down at it again, shrugging.

“We’re not close.” He remarked and you frowned.

“Don’t you wanna know if she’s dead or alive?” You asked and he sighed again, like this was all a giant waste of his time.

“I figure she’s dead, since I’m in here.” He replied, leaning back in his chair.

“She’s not.” You replied and watched as his eyebrow quirked. “She’s in a medically induced coma. Massive bleeding to the brain, a broken pelvis and femur, and a perforated lung. Do you know how someone would get like that?”

“I assume you’re going to tell me.” He drawled, rolling his head to the side.

“A fist, presumably.” Yoongi replied. “Do you know anyone who would want to hurt her?”

“I don’t know her life, man.” Mr. Grant rolled his eyes, “she comes from a white bread, blue collar family. Your guess is as good as mine.”

Yoongi sighed, grabbing the chair from beside you and twisting it to sit, chest against the back as he surveyed Mr. Grant from across the top. “We found some threatening voicemail’s left on her phone, all from you. You must understand why we’re a little suspicious.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when your ex girl tries to take your kid away from you. I haven’t done anything that would warrant her getting full custody.”

“Aside from putting a fist through her face, of course.” Yoongi remarked and Mr. Grant smirked.

“Where’s your proof, man?” He crooned.

“We’ve got the tapes and now your admission of a child custody battle, which is already not great for you. Now all we need is that smoking gun.”

“Yeah, well good luck. I was at a movie with a chick and then she was at my house until an hour ago getting her back blown out. Ticket stub to prove it.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket, removing a receipt and throwing it on the table.

“You don’t even know when all of this happened.” You said, pulling on a glove to pick up the stub and sticking it inside a bag for evidence.

“I’m guessing in the last twelve hours,” He remarked, finger pointing down at the picture of your victim, “Since she looks like this and I appear to be your prime suspect. I doubt you’d wait too long to call me in.”

“We’re gonna need the name of the woman you were with.” Yoongi hummed, twisting his thumbs around one another.

“Don’t know her name.” He shrugged, “Sara something.”

You frowned, closing the manila envelope with a flick of your wrist. “We’ll be in contact, Mr. Grant. Don’t go too far. Have a nice day.”

He smirked, standing and waiting at the door for Yoongi to open it for him. He then waltzed from the room and out of the precinct with the confidence of a man who’d just gotten away with murder. You hoped that wasn’t the case.

You stood by the door of the interrogation room, watching as he disappeared before groaning and walking back to your desk, flopping in your seat.

“Talk to me.” Yoongi said, following your lead.

“Honestly, I’m just really frustrated.”

“Lay it on me.” Yoongi said, leaning back in his chair, legs propped open wide and you were distracted for a moment.

“I-I just-” You tore your gaze away from him, squeezing your eyes shut and pushing your fingers into your temple. “I’m frustrated that so far, we’re no closer to catching our bad guy. I don’t know, my gut just says it’s the ex, but no one can prosecute on a gut feeling. I can’t believe he has an alibi.”

Yoongi nodded before leaning forward and smacking your knee to get your attention. “Y/N, this is day 2. Don’t get so discouraged. We’ll go around the neighborhood, see if we can get access to camera footage in the area and just look for anything interesting.”

“But what if we don’t find anything? What if this guy gets off, Yoongi?”

Yoongi frowned, leaning back in his chair once more, one pant leg hiked up enough to reveal the navy blue of his sock and his fingers twitching against his kneecap. “We’ll get him, Y/N. Whoever the guy is, we’ll get him.”

“I want that little girl to have her mom back.” You sighed, dragging your chair back to your desk by the heels of your shoes.

“She will.” Yoongi said, dragging his chair right next to yours and you turned to look at him, his face far closer than you were used to. “If you stress over this, you’re gonna make a mistake. Take a break, Y/N, go get a coffee or something.”

You nodded, mute, before standing up and making your way to the break room, fingers twitching nervously in the pockets of your slacks. Yoongi had never been an overly affectionate partner. He showed he cared in different ways, but if he were a love language, it was definitely not physical touch.

The coffee was already brewed as you made your way into the grey and aging break room. The seafoam green florescent box light above flickering on one side and you grabbed a mug from the cupboard, pouring yourself a cup and searching the fridge for an unexpired creamer.

After you’d found one that seemed the least questionable, you sat down at the table, coffee steaming from the mug and up into your face as you bent over it, fingers scratching into your scalp. You weren’t good with setbacks; they stressed you out. It was probably very strange from the outside that you’d chosen a field that was filled to the brim with disappointments, but ever since you were a little girl, getting the bad guy was always your thing.

It started small with Johnny Walcot on your street. He’d taken your little cousin’s chalk and tried to run away with it. You’d chased him half a block before you’d tackled him to the ground and given him a nice shiner to remember you by. Your methods had changed since then.

In high school you’d joined clubs, volunteered to be hall monitor, and even ran for student body president. You were a bit of a goodie toe shoes, but whatever, it made for a really good job application when you’d applied to the academy when you were 21.

You sighed, dropping your hands onto the table and allowing the smoky aroma of roasted coffee beans to ease your shoulders into a slump. Yoongi was right, you just needed to pound pavement and see what you could dig up. You were no quitter and you’d go down fighting if necessary.

Taking a long sip of your drink, you leaned back in your chair, face tilting up to the ceiling and you closed your eyes. Maybe you needed to start practicing yoga, your cousin was always going on and on about how relaxed it made her feel. You could really do with some relaxation right about now.

The door to the break room opened with a squeak and Yoongi waltzed in, eyeing the pot of coffee on the counter. “Did you make a new batch?”

“No,” you shook your head, “but it’s still fresh.”

He nodded, making his way over with his own personal coffee cup and emptying the pot into his mug before joining you at the table. “I was thinking,” he paused to sip at his drink, humming softly, “there’s that credit union on the corner right by our vic’s apartment, we should go see if they caught anything on their security camera. There’s a few other places nearby as well that we could check in on; one of them is bound to have cameras.”

“Don’t even know what I’m looking for now that the ex has an alibi.” You muttered, rubbing your thumb down the handle of your mug.

“Clues.” Yoongi teased and you smiled up at him, “Come on, we’ve got this, it’s only day two. We’ll head out after this and see what we can find.”

Early spring in the city meant allergies. For Yoongi, that is. He sneezed before whining childishly, pulling a tissue from his pocket and blowing his nose. “Hay fever is the worst.” He griped, throwing the tissue in the nearest garbage can and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he followed you along the sidewalk.

“Tell me how you really feel.” You hummed and he glowered.

“I don’t remember asking for your sass.” He said and you smiled, shrugging.

“You didn’t not ask for it either.” You pushed open the door to the credit union, holding it open for Yoongi to follow you through. You were being greeted before Yoongi could retort and a lady in a cream tweed suit and clipboard in hand came to stand in front of you.

“How can I help you today?” She smiled, lips painted an alarming shade of red. Yoongi held up his badge quickly before clipping it back to his belt. “We’re doing some investigating on a case in this area and we’re wondering if the security camera’s outside work or if they’re more for scare tactics.”

“They do work.” The women confirmed, dark eyebrows folding in the center. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about it, though. You’d need to speak to our branch president for more information.”

“Is the branch president here today?” You asked and the woman turned to you, lips pursed and head nodding.

“He is. If you’ll just wait here a moment, I’ll go grab him.” She turned on her heel, clicking along the marble floor and into the adjacent hallway before disappearing around a corner.

“This place is fancy.” You remarked, gaze shifting around the room. Floor to ceiling windows against the front of the building, white marble flooring, and Mozart wafting softly from somewhere unseen. It likely made for a very pleasant banking experience.

“I’ve been thinking about getting a new bank recently; hate all my banks fees. They are blood suckers with their overdraft fees.” Yoongi remarked, his gaze steady on the hallway where the woman had disappeared.

“This is too rich for your blood.” You sighed and Yoongi turned to glare at you.

“What are you insinuating?”

“Take a wild guess.” You teased. Just then, the clicking of heels returned and the two of you turned to find the woman at the opening to the hallway, waving you over.

“If you’ll just follow me.”

Heavy oak doors lined the walls leading to what you could only assume were offices. You followed around the corner before she stood before one door, pausing to knock.

“Sir.” She greeted, ushering the two of you towards her bosses’ desk before leaving back to the lobby. A cherry wood desk greeted you, home to a middle aged, mildly rotund man. His hair was mousy brown, pushed out of his face and his nose held up the wire framed glasses he was sporting.

“Good afternoon.” He smiled, standing and coming to shake your hands, “I’m Dean Clark. Nancy tells me you’re inquiring after security footage?”

“Yes, actually, we’re covering a case in the area and we’re hoping to find some more information through security footage.” Yoongi said, taking the seat the branch president had gestured to.

Mr. Clark sat behind his desk, clicking the mouse of his computer and nodding his head as he searched through files. “What time frame are you wanting to search through?”

“Yesterday morning seems to be around when things started, but if we could see the footage all the way through Friday morning, that would be helpful.”

Mr. Clark nodded, busying himself in his search and you took a moment to look around the room. It was as classy as the lobby, though darker in color. Exactly what you would imagine for a CEO or president of a company. A ticking clock on the wall distracted you for a moment and you watched the minute hand tick down.

“Ah, here we go. OK, I’m just going to save it really quick. Is there anything else I can do for you officers while you’re here?”

“That’s all we need for now,” Yoongi confirmed, “but we’ll be in contact if there’s anything else at a later date.”

Mr. Clark handed over the CD he’d saved the file on and you slipped it into your bag, thanking him before the three of you stood and he directed you back down the correct side of the hallway.

You spent the next two hours visiting nearby establishments, getting any security footage you could before making your way back to the office to review the files. You were a little damp from walking around in the sun for so long. With dreams of the personal fan you had sitting on your desk, you made your way inside, Yoongi following behind.

“Officer Y/N.”

You turned to the voice calling you, Officer Gordon nodding over at the waiting room. “There’s a neighbor of your victim here; a Ms. Jiang. Says she’s got some information for you.”

“Thank you, Jacob.” You said, patting his arm before grabbing the files from your desk and making your way towards the waiting room.

“I’ll be in room 3.” Yoongi called over to you and you nodded.

“Ms. Jiang?” You asked and a small woman, looking around late 60’s and a head full of straight white hair, stood slowly with a wave. “Thank you so much for coming in. I hope you weren’t waiting terribly long, we weren’t aware you were coming today.”

“Oh no,” she waved you away, following slowly along with you as she gripped at her cane, “I’ve only been here about 5 minutes and the other officers were so nice. Got me a nice cup of tea while I waited.”

“I’m so glad they took care of you.” You smiled, “we’re just over here in this room.”

Ms. Jiang made her way into the room, acknowledging Yoongi with a quick nod before taking the proffered seat.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Yoongi asked and her eyes crinkled with her smile.

“No thank you, dear. I had a tea while I was waiting.”

After closing the door, you sat quickly in your seat, placing your file on the table in front of you and leaning forward. “Ms. Jiang, we were told that you came with some information for us?”

“Well yes. I know that poor girl next door got beaten, she’s in the hospital I heard. I feel so sorry for her. She’s a very good girl, works really hard to take care of her daughter. It’s not an easy job being a single mom. I was a single mom to two when my husband died; it’s a real challenge.”

“Did you see something on that day?” Yoongi asked gently and she nodded, lips rubbing together.

“Yes, I believe I did. That morning I had to go put my trash outside by the dumpster. My kids don’t live very close anymore, you see, and ever since my husband died I’ve had to do it all by myself. While I was out with the garbage I saw that dreadful man again.”

“Which man?” You asked and she frowned.

“That man that she used to date. I don’t know his name, never cared to hear it, but he comes by sometimes to pick up that little girl for a few days. It was very early in the morning, the sun hadn’t even come up yet. I’m an early riser, see, so I was out getting a start on my daily chores. I’d know him anywhere, though. His tattoos are hard to miss since he’s got so many of them.

“Well, at first I didn’t think much of it because, as I said, he comes by sometimes to see that little girl. I thought it was a little odd that he was there so early in the morning, but it wasn’t my business to interfere unless something was wrong. Well, I went back to my apartment for a little while before I realized I’d forgotten to take the recycling out.

“So, I was taking my recycling out when I heard a door open and close and I looked and saw him again. He was shoving something in the pocket of his jeans, like a tiny little bat, and then walking quickly down the stairs. I thought that was really strange; why would he come so early in the morning to pick up a tiny little thing like that? He didn’t even have the little girl with him.”

“Did you see anything else?” You asked, heart racing in your chest. You knew it; you just knew it. Somehow, he was lying and you were going to prove it.

“Unfortunately not. I wanted to knock on the door to see if that young woman was OK, but I didn’t want to seem like a busy body spying on other people’s lives. I know she works strange hours to make ends meet, so I just thought she must have been awake for work or something. Now I feel real sorry for not checking.”

“It’s not your fault.” Yoongi insisted, “no one could have known what happened.”

“Ma’am, would you be willing to write and sign a statement about what you witnessed?” You questioned.

Ms. Jiang nodded, wringing her hands together. “Yes, of course. Anything I can do to help that poor girl.”

After Ms. Jiang had left, both you and Yoongi made your way back to your desks. You still had multiple days’ worth of security footage to go through from multiple businesses and a ticking clock.

“That was unexpected.” Yoongi commented as he took a seat at his desk.

“It was.” You agreed, nodding. “It’s strange that she saw him when he supposedly has an alibi.” Your fingers twitched against the keys of your keyboard in thought. “We need to find that woman Sara, if she even exists.”

“Let’s get started on the security footage first. Later today, we should also go by the theater he mentioned and see if we can get their security feed; get a good look at the woman he was with.”

“I’m hungry, too, so maybe we could get something to eat on the way.”

After lunch and a mind numbing few hours of watching security footage which, so far, had not divulged anything interesting, you were feeling burnt out and frustrated. Again. Yoongi’s phone rang at his desk and you yawned, scrolling through to the next time stamp.

“Hey,” Yoongi called, leaning across the arm of his chair excitedly and you swiveled your head to the side to look at him. “The lab just called and said they’ve got something new on our cold case.”

“Good. I need a break from this for a minute anyway.”

Later, after returning home for the evening and Yoongi promptly changing into sweats and a t-shirt, you went to your room to change and get ready for dinner at your parents. You were hungry and apprehensive. It wasn’t a stretch to wonder if your mother and aunts would ask more questions about your love life and you were already dreading the conversation.

“Going out?” Yoongi asked from his burrito blanket on the couch.

“Yeah,” You hummed, searching your purse for your keys, “family dinner tonight. You ok with fending for yourself?”

Yoongi scoffed, flipping channels on the TV. “I think I can handle it.”

“Well, I’ve got some takeout menus stashed in the drawer by my fridge, if you wanted to order something. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

The drive was quiet as you made your way towards the outskirts of the city. After you’d left home, you’d left an empty nest for your parents. With you and your siblings out of the house, they’d decided to move out of the city and downsize.

You didn’t blame them. They were getting older and climbing all those stairs in their old brownstone was taking its toll on their knees. They needed something on one level that wouldn’t break the bank. After finding a spot on the street, you locked the doors, making your way towards their house. It was still an apartment but with one level and street access. The smaller space made for very interesting family dinners.

The evening was peaceful, still light enough outside to make for a nice stroll and you listened as the crickets chirped excitedly. The days were starting to really warm up, but the evenings were still cool and required a light jacket. Families sat in their homes at their tables or around the TV eating and watching movies and for a moment you let yourself envy them.

Your family often asked you when you were getting married and though you brushed them off with a roll of your eyes, you too wanted to find the family they so badly wanted for you. There had to be two willing participants to play and so far, there was just one.

“Y/N!” Your mother called happily as she opened the door just as you’d raised your hand to knock. “I saw you from the window. Come in, come in!”

The apartment was alive with noise, nieces and nephews running and playing, your uncle and your dad arguing about how to properly season a steak, and your aunt fussing over the pregnant belly of your older sister.

“Ah, the baby has arrived!” Your father called, turning from your uncle who looked like he was two seconds away from blowing a fuse. “Let’s eat!”

“You kept us waiting!” Your sister fussed, linking her arm through yours and you smiled.

“I’m sorry Palma, I know this one was probably making your life difficult, huh?” You said, rubbing your hand across her belly and she sighed.

“You know, after four kids, you’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I’m practically foaming at the mouth by the time dinner is ready.”

The dining table had, had the extension put in and still, another long table was needed in the living room. No table was ever big enough for your family to sit at comfortably. With two sets of aunts and uncles, a few cousins, your three siblings and their families along with your parents and yourself, it always made for a very tight squeeze. You couldn’t even imagine trying to fit all the extended family still living far away. It wouldn’t be possible.

Your mom always insisted on having everyone over, though. She said that after having four kids she’d forgotten how to make smaller meals so it was necessary to come and help her eat it all. You certainly weren’t complaining about your mother’s home cooked meals. They were what kept you going through hard weeks when cases weren’t panning out.

You watched as Palma and her husband wrangled their children into their seats before coming to join you back at the table. Your brothers sat further down the table with their wives and if they hadn’t nodded at you as you’d come in, you wouldn’t have even been sure they’d seen you.

“You found a man yet, anipsiá?” Your aunt asked, filling her plate with moussaka and choriatiki. She popped a kalamata olive in her mouth, humming as she chewed.

“Not since two days ago, theía.” You smiled. She chuckled, swatting at you from across the table.

“I worry about you, Y/N.” She sighed, “I don’t want you to be like me, no marriage until 35 and only one baby. Oh, it was such a hard time for me to let down my family like that. The oldest daughter with no family.” Her eyebrows creased in the center as she thought about it before shoving a bite of moussaka so large you thought she might choke.

“Thirty-five isn’t old, though, theía. Besides, you still had Ambrose and he’s great!”

She nodded, solemn. “He is great, but you know I would have liked to give him some brothers and sisters. Thirty-five is advanced maternal age, anipsiá. Don’t put yourself in that situation.”

You sighed, cutting off the corner of your pastitsio and stabbing it moodily with your fork. “I have to find a man I like first, you know that.”

“What about that Yoongi boy?” She asked and you choked around your mouthful, Palma, slapping her hand against your back.

“Yoongi?” you gasped after you’d swallowed your food. “My partner?”

“Sure!” She nodded, taking another large bite and chewing loudly, “He would give you very pretty babies. He’s already your friend, too. You’re halfway there!”

You huffed with laughter, shaking your head. “Have you been drinking too much Retsina? You’re talking crazy.”

“Well why not?” Palma asked, “you told me you had a crush on him in the academy, what’s different now?”

“We’re partners!” You insisted, “that would be weird and inappropriate in the workplace.”

Palma shrugged, “you’re both consenting adults, I don’t see what the issue is.”

“Ok, let’s say for arguments sake that we dated and then broke up. What then?” You dipped some pita bread in the tzatziki sauce before taking a bite and watching your sister with eyebrows raised.

“So, what you’re telling me is you wouldn’t be mature enough to still work together after doing the diddly do?” She grinned and you whined, dipping your bread again.

“Don’t call it that, you make it sound so gross.”

“I’m just saying,” she chuckled, feeding a bite of cheese to the two-year-old hanging from her arm, “It’s not a big deal if you don’t make it a big deal. Now, if you genuinely weren’t interested in him then that would be one thing, but so far I haven’t heard you denying your crush.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because there’s nothing to deny.” You huff, pushing some food across your plate with your fork. “But a relationship needs to be mutual and so far, it seems like he’s not really in the same mind set as me.”

“You never know until you try!” Your aunt insisted, waving her pita bread at you and you smiled, nodding.

“You should bring Yoongi to dinner next time. Don’t give me that look, I don’t mean for that. I just think it would be fun. I’ve never actually met your partner.” Palma shooed her son away and he slumped back to the kids table, a clump of feta cheese squeezed in his fist.

“I’ll ask him, I guess.” You shrugged.

***

By the time you’d made your way back into the apartment, it was late. You’d stayed and had a glass of wine and some dessert while playing games before bidding your farewells. The apartment was dark but you could see the light under Yoongi’s door, signaling his presence and you moved drowsily towards your own room, flicking on the lights and closing your door.

After brushing your teeth and stripping down to your underwear, you crawled under your duvet, shivering at the airconditioned sheets before melting into your mattress. You were so tired, eyes heavy from lack of sleep.

Your phone ringing from the pocket of your jeans startled you and you reached over the side of your bed, digging around in the pile of clothes you hadn’t bothered to put in the hamper. Pulling your phone to your ear you answered with a groggy hello.

“Officer Y/N? It’s Laura from down at the precinct. I’m sorry to be calling so late.”

“No, it’s fine,” you murmured, leaning on one elbow, “what’s going on?”

“We’ve got the ex-boyfriend of your beating victim here. He was arrested at a bar, drunk and disorderly, mumbling about how “she had it coming.” We’re gonna keep him in a holding cell overnight and I thought you might want to know.”

“Yes, actually. Thank you so much! Yoongi and I will be there tomorrow morning to see what’s going on.”

After hanging up and dropping your phone on the other side of your bed you stared up at the ceiling, mind racing. She had it coming. It was chilling how callous some people could be. You weren’t sure if he meant your victim, but your gut said yes. Your gut wouldn’t cut it, though. You needed proof…and you were gonna find it.

Yoongi was already awake when you entered the kitchen the next morning. Dressed in dark slacks and a white button up, he was looking more handsome than was reasonable and he looked over at you, nodding over the rim of his cup.

“I made coffee.” He motioned to his side and you thanked him, pushing the hem of your shirt into your pants. “Did you get the phone call last night?”

“From Laura?” At his nod you hummed, “yeah, I did. We can stop over there first thing. I want to talk to him about what he meant by she had it coming.”

“I’ve got an inkling.” Yoongi mumbled into his mug and you sighed.

“Me too, but no one can prosecute on an inkling.”

Yoongi slumped around the kitchen, opening cupboards and peering at the contents inside. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but you could understand the feeling of frustration in lack of answers.

“How was your family?” He asked, muffled by the door to one of your cupboards.

“They were good. Loud, as usual.” He turned to look at you, smiling and closing the cupboard. “Actually, they told me to invite you to dinner next weekend. Would you be up for it?”

“Free Greek food? I’m absolutely on board. I’m in need of a really good food coma these days.”

“Well you’ll definitely get your wish with my mom’s cooking.” You chuckled, filling your travel mug with coffee and fixing it to your preferences. “Let’s go. We can grab something to eat on the way there.”

Mr. Grant was awake in his holding cell when you arrived and you were escorted to one of the interrogation rooms while someone went to go grab him. Breakfast sat heavy in your stomach as you waited and Yoongi picked at his nails, lounging next to you.

“Stop picking, your finger nails are already really short as it is.” You murmured, looking over at him and he looked up at you with a smirk.

“I didn’t realize you made it a regular practice to stare at my fingers, Y/N.”

You scoffed, flipping open the file of your beating victim and turning to gaze down at the information collected so far. The door opening caught your attention and you watched as Mr. Grant was escorted to the seat opposite the two of you.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked once the door had been closed behind the retreating officer.

“Mr. Grant, do you remember anything from last night?” You asked, watching his eyebrow tick up.

“Not a whole lot, to be honest. I was pretty drunk.” He grinned and you drummed your fingers against the desk in front of you.

“So we’ve heard. So then you don’t remember saying, “She had it coming?”” Mr. Grants jaw clamped shut, mouth tightening into a thin line. “Care to enlighten us? Who’s she Mr. Grant?”

His gaze traveled to the wall behind you, eyes glazing over. “Clearly you didn’t mean to let that little tidbit slip,” Yoongi pressed, watching as Mr. Grant’s jaw tensed. “So what, you get in a fight? She’s threatening to take your kid away from you and you just snap, right? Figure she can’t take Cora away if she’s dead.”

He wouldn’t budge. “A neighbor saw you outside her apartment,” you coerced. “On the morning she was found beaten. Saw you there really early in the morning and with a tiny little bat. What were you doing there, Mr. Grant?”

“It’s not what you think!” He insisted suddenly and your eyebrows rose in interest. “I was just there to give her that bat for Cora because I’d gotten it engraved. I knew she was getting off work at that time so I wanted to drop it off before she went to sleep. We got in a fight, though, so I left and forgot to leave the bat there.”

“You got a tiny kids baseball bat engraved?” Yoongi asked, frowning.

“Yeah, Cora and I like to play baseball, it’s our thing. I thought it might be a nice gift.”

“You said you got in a fight with her.” You pressed and his gaze switched quickly to yours, “What about?”

You could see him shutting down before he’d even shook his head. “Nah, I’m not saying anything else without a lawyer present. I know how these things go.”

“Very well. An attorney will be appointed to you or you can choose your own representation. We’ll have one of the other officers come take care of that for you and we’ll be in contact.”

You stood, Yoongi following behind you as you made your way out of the station and towards your car. He groaned, rubbing at his eyes as you started the engine and backed away from the curb. “Now what?” He mused, eyes staring empty at the roof of your car as you made your way back towards your office.

“I don’t know.” You admit, thumbs rubbing circles into the steering wheel, “we just keep looking. We’ll watch the rest of the security footage and forensics took swabs of everything. We’ll find something.”

“What does any of that matter?” Yoongi scoffed, “he admitted he was there but without any actual proof that he hit her then we’ve got nothing. We’re gonna find traces of him in her apartment, he goes there to see his daughter. If we see him on the footage, big deal, he said he was there. You know? We need real, hard evidence that he beat her.”

“We’ll get it.” You insisted and Yoongi sighed, running his fingers along the door handle.

“How?”

“I don’t know,” you said, “but we will. We need to get a warrant to search his place; try and find that bat. We’ve got enough probable cause to go to a judge. I just don’t buy his story. He showed up at his ex-girlfriend’s house at 5 am to drop off a tiny bat he got engraved for his daughter? Bull. Why wouldn’t he drop it off when she was there? Wouldn’t he want to see her face when she gets it…if it’s really that important to them?”

“When we get back to the office we need to compile all the evidence we can find and call the judge. I wanna get this guy.”

Thanks to Ms. Jiang’s information, pinpointing when Mr. Grant would have walked by certain stores was easier and both Yoongi and you were able to find him on multiple security cameras on the morning of your victims beating. With that, Ms. Jeong’s statements, and the other affidavits of the victim’s family members, and Mr. Grant’s own admission that he was in fact there that morning, you were able to secure a warrant for his apartment.

Mr. Grant seemed surprised to see you when you arrived, a few officers flanked behind you. “I don’t remember inviting you to my house for dinner.” He replied sarcastically and you smiled, holding the warrant up.

“We have a warrant. These officers would be happy to explain the details of it to you while you wait outside with them.”

“What are you even searching for?” He complained, stepping outside while both Yoongi and you walked into his apartment, “I told you I didn’t do anything.”

“Then you should have nothing to worry about.” You replied.

Mr. Grant’s apartment was a little older, a little run down from neglect. The living room was standard fair; a small TV in the corner on top of a table that had seen better days and flanked on one side were curtains, yellowing with age.

Both Yoongi and you split up, a couple other officers helping to fill in the gaps as you searched for anything you could find that would give you answers you needed; specifically the little bat Ms. Jiang had mentioned.

Mr. Grant’s apartment was dirty and you wondered absentmindedly if any man would actually bring a date here to this mess or if this was a byproduct of two days. In moments like these, you were glad to be wearing gloves. Not one single ounce of you wanted to touch anything in this place with any less protection.

You could hear Yoongi calling you from the bedroom so you made your way out of the bathroom and towards the back of the apartment where Yoongi stood, a tiny wooden bat hanging from his gloved fingers.

“Think this is it?” He asked as you walked closer, looking it over.

“Probably. Bag it and we’ll see if it’s got anything to say.”

After searching through every nook and cranny of the apartment, you all returned to the office to have the bat analyzed by forensics. The victim was still in the hospital in a coma and this was more frustrating than anything else. A little girl was out there without her mom and you weren’t even sure if she’d ever get her back.

It made you want to pull your hair out.

Both Yoongi and you spent the next few days following up with leads on your cold case and coming up empty handed every time. It was frustrating to feel like you were doing everything you could to succeed and there was always a wall in the way.

The case had gone cold years ago, almost 11 years now, and the family had been waiting with no answers. Leads had basically all dried up by the time the case made it onto your desks and you’d been backtracking in an effort to find anything the original officers had missed.

Initially it had seemed like an open and shut case, kid was 18, a legal adult. She probably ran away. Her parents were uptight and had a lot of rules. The more the officers dug, though, the more grey the evidence became. Things left behind that didn’t make sense for her to leave, like her money, all her clothes, and her brand new puppy.

Testimonials from friends and relatives about what a happy and secure young woman she was…it just didn’t add up. Why would someone like that run away? Typically, runaways were troubled and facing a lot of trauma. She just didn’t fit the box.

She would be 29 now; if she was still alive. It seemed unlikely after all this time, but you wanted to at least give her family some closure. You couldn’t even imagine if your sister or either of your brothers had gone missing when you were growing up. Your family was a massive piece of you; you would be empty without them.

The weekend was time off for you and you spent most of Sunday lounging in bed. You could heard Yoongi puttering around in the kitchen or living room before he’d disappear back into his room to mess around on his laptop.

It was comforting to have him around, even if you were both doing your own things. Having him with you just felt as if there was something you’d been missing all along and it had finally been identified and returned to its place. You liked to think you had control over your little school girl crush from back at the academy, but honestly it had built over the years and morphed into something much closer to a word you didn’t even want to think about yourself. It was too terrifying.

A knock at your door startled you from your thoughts and you called out for Yoongi to come in. He stepped through the door, still in a pair of blue flannel pajama bottoms and an old white t-shirt. Even now he looked handsome. The door stayed open beside him as he tucked his hands into the pockets against his thighs, surveying you as you lounged in bed looking over at him.

“Nice double chin.” He smirked and you scoffed, chucking a decorative pillow at him.

“Did you come here for something important or just to annoy me?” You complained.

He chuckled, leaning against the door jam and folding his arms across his chest. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“I haven’t left this bed once and it’s been a blissful 6 hours. There was one moment where there was almost a tragedy and I nearly wet my pants, but thankfully the feeling passed.”

Yoongi frowned, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Aren’t we going to your families place for dinner tonight?”

“What of it? I’ll be up with enough time to shower and look presentable, I promise. Besides, the less I eat now, the more I can eat there.”

“That’s fair,” he conceded, “but I’d rather you not pee your bed; I’d never be able to look at you the same.”

“How do you look at me now?” You teased, eyebrows wiggling and you made sure to accentuate the double chin that looking over at him created.

“Not the way you think I do.” He frowned, upper lip turning up at you. You hated that your heart dropped at that, but you wouldn’t let him see; wouldn’t let him know. If he thought of you as just a friend and his partner, you were happy to fill that role. As long as you could be beside him in some way.

“You don’t like my double chin?” You huffed childishly and he smiled, rolling his eyes at you.

“Get up and shower, woman. Come watch a show with me.”

He left the door way, leaving the door wide open in what you deemed a power move and you groaned, loud enough for him to hear, before dragging yourself from your bed and to the bathroom.

By the time you were both ready to go and making your way down to your car you were practically foaming at the mouth at the thought of food. You were so hungry you’d eat your own left foot if that’s what it took. Yoongi was silent most of the drive, and though this wasn’t exactly strange for him, it did make you wonder what was on his mind.

The crickets were already when you’d arrived and you closed the car door softly, clicking the lock into place. You moved slowly to where Yoongi stood beside the car, staring up at the sky, dusk settling on the horizon.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly.

His gaze lowered to yours, smiling soft and shaking his head. “Nothing really.” His eyes focused in on the spring dress you’d chosen to wear; black and yellow with blooming sunflowers. “You look really pretty, by the way. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you in something like this before.”

He reached out to twist the fabric of your dress softly between his fingers and you heated at the praise; suddenly self-conscious. “Thank you, Yoongi. That’s very kind of you.”

He looked as awkward as you felt so you resumed your walk towards your parent’s home. It was quiet outside, but windows were open, the smell of a hundred dinners wafting out into the evening; a tantalizing temptation from every door.

Yoongi waited with you as you stood outside your parent’s door. If he was nervous to be here, you couldn’t tell, but you were certainly nervous enough for the both of you. Growing up, you’d never brought a guy around, you couldn’t have even if you’d wanted to.

You were the baby in your family with a gap of 6 years between you and your brother Andreas. A surprise, your parents liked to call you. Andreas and Gael in particular liked to baby you. When you were in high school they would stand outside your school waiting for you at the end of each day, flanking you on either side so that no boys would come near you.

They were tall and buff and it was no shocker that no one wanted to be anywhere close enough to date you. It had made you cry tears of frustration on more occasion than one, but your brothers always said that they knew how guys minds worked and there was no way they were trusting them their baby sister.

Now you were an adult and they were both married with children, they had better things to do than to stand outside your place of work and swat away all prospective suitors. In fact, these days your family seemed more concerned that you hadn’t found a man than the other way around.

The door flung open, your aunt beaming wide and throwing her arms around you with wild enthusiasm. “You must be Yoongi!” She smiled, pulling him into the hug and you could feel him go rigid against your back. This was certainly not what he was expecting.

“Oh, we have been waiting so long for this day! Everyone, Y/N brought a man to dinner!” She called loudly into the house and your family cheered.

You wanted to die. “Theía! I told you, Yoongi is my partner at work.”

“No reason he can’t be more.” She smiled, eyebrows wiggling suggestively as she closed the door behind the two of you and dragged you further into the house. “Has anyone ever told you that you would make incredibly beautiful babies, Yoongi?” She asked and you wanted to melt straight into the floor.

Yoongi was clearly a masochist because he smirked at you before turning his gaze back to your aunt. “Actually, I haven’t heard that before, but I agree. I’ve got really great genes to pass on.”

“Stop feeding the troll, Yoongi.” You griped and your aunt swatted at you.

“Don’t be rude, I’m only asking for you. I’m thinking about you, hmm?” She scolded and you sighed, running your hand across her shoulder to pull her into your side.

“Let me worry about it, OK?”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Yoongi drawled and he had a looked that spelled trouble. You suddenly hated his guts. “I think your aunt is right, we’d make really beautiful babies together.”

“See!” Your aunt cried happily and you could see Palma smiling into her cup from behind her. Gael was giving you an obnoxiously enthusiastic thumbs up from over by the table and your mom looked like she actually thought she would be getting another grand baby soon.

“I’ll actually kill you, Yoongi.” You grit and he laughed, pinching at your cheek.

“Yoongi, nice to see you again.” Your uncle greeted, coming to shake his hand. “Let’s sit and eat, we can continue this baby talk later. Y/N looks like she’ll die soon if we don’t.”

“Thank you, theíos.” You squeezed his shoulder gently, making your way into the dining room and sitting down, Yoongi right beside you.

Palma was giving you a look that you could read all too well and you pointedly ignored her. She could bombard you later through text if she wanted to ask about your partner. You were already mortified enough as it was.

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Yoongi mumbled, eyeing the spread of food and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Wait until you try it. My mom and her sisters learned how to cook from their mom and she was amazing! I remember when she would come to see us, she’d make the most incredible food; real comfort food. Creamy and warm, I’m salivating just thinking about it.”

You watched Yoongi eagerly load up his plate, chatting amiably with your brother who sat across from him and you filled your own plate with all your favorites, practically inhaling everything as soon as if hit your plate. You hummed happily, dancing a little in your seat as you ate and Yoongi glanced at you with a smile.

“Happy?”

“Oh yeah.” You nodded, stuffing feta and cucumber into your mouth and chewing happily.

“So, Y/N,” your mom called from the end of the table and you nodded your attention. “Have you and Yoongi ever thought about dating?”

Globs of feta lodged in your lungs as you inhaled sharp and you spluttered into your napkin, coughing and wheezing as Yoongi patted your back, handing you a glass of water. “What?” you gasped, eyes watering as you looked at your mother.

“The two of you? Have you ever thought about getting together?”

“Mom!” You complained loudly as the table chorused her opinion, “he’s my partner and my friend!”

“Fine line between friendship and love, Y/N.” Your father supplied, sending a kiss to your mother at the opposite side of the table from him. “You know your mother and I met in school as friends. What could be better than making a family with a friend?”

“Please can we stop talking about this?” You cried.

“They mean well,” your sister smiled and you looked at her, frowning.

“You’re not allowed to be on their side, Palma. You know how this feels. He’s sitting right here.” You grunted, pointing your thumb at Yoongi who was currently shoving a fist sized amount of food into his mouth.

He looked over at you, eyebrows wiggling and you grimaced. “Chew your food, you animal.”

“Lovers quarrel!” Gail hooted and you were pretty sure you could see the light at this point because you were positive you were about to die.

“You always complain you’re too busy, you never have time to meet anyone,” your mom whined, “but you’re with Yoongi all the time, there’s no better opportunity.”

“Relationships are not about convenience, mom.” You sighed.

“No, but they should be built on friendship and mutual respect and you’ve already got that.” Your father insisted.

“We could be magical together.” Yoongi crooned and you rolled your eyes at him.

“You’re giving them hope.”

“I’ve got nothing but hope.” He insisted with a grin.

“What’s the harm in giving it a try?” Your mother asked, waving her arms enthusiastically. “Yoongi seems OK with it.”

“OK, let’s say we start dating and it doesn’t work out. We still have to work together every day in a lot of life or death cases and we don’t need that extra tension.”

“So you’re saying there’s already tension?” Gael grinned and you scowled.

“Drop the subject everyone. Talk about something else, seriously. This is really weird and inappropriate. Talking to me about my love life is one thing, but not like this. This is not OK.” You scolded.

“Fine, fine, fine.” Your mother accepted, sufficiently cowed for now and the topic moved on to something new. You could barely concentrate on conversation at this point. You were angry, embarrassed, and afraid to even look at your friend.

He’d taken everything in his stride, but Yoongi was the type to use comedy when he was uncomfortable…you couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking.

By the time dinner was over you were mentally exhausted from trying to avoid all embarrassing conversations. To Yoongi’s credit, he didn’t seem phased at all. You were grateful he was so levelheaded.

“Want a glass of wine?” He asked as you made your way back into your apartment, dropping your purse by the door.

“Yes please.” You mumbled, following him to the kitchen.

“I don’t actually know where you keep your wine glasses.” He said, pulling a bottle of red from on top of the fridge.

You moved quickly to the other side of the kitchen, pulling some glasses down from the cabinet and he took them from you, moving towards the table to pour you both a glass.

“Cheers.” He said, clinking his glass against yours before taking a sip. You were halfway through your glass before you had enough liquid courage to say anything to him.

“I am so sorry about my family.” You mumbled, staring down into your glass. “They’re so embarrassing.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything for a moment and you wanted to shrink into yourself the longer he stayed silent. What must he think of you? They were practically auctioning you and your empty womb off to him; he must think you’re so desperate. Yoongi sighed and you looked up at him as he shrugged, “it’s not a big deal, Y/N.”

“It is!” You insisted, “it’s one thing for them to do this to me privately, I’ve dealt with it for years…but to drag you into it without really getting your say. It’s like a verbal hostage situation. You didn’t sign up for that. I’m sorry if you felt uncomfortable.”

“I did feel uncomfortable,” he admitted, swirling the last of his wine around his glass, “but not for the reasons you think.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, clutching your glass to your chest like a barrier.

“I just never realized the idea of being with me was so repulsive to you.” He sighed, “It’s not like I wouldn’t be interested, but what I want doesn’t really change things. You need two yeses or it’s always a no.”

You paused, face twisting in confusion. “Wait, what?”

“I’m just saying. Your dad is right, love and relationships should be built off of friendship and we’ve already got that part. I wouldn’t be opposed to trying and seeing where things go, but you’ve always made it fairly clear that you don’t think the same way. It’s not a big deal, life moves on.”

You laughed; breathless. “You think I’d turn you down?”

“Obviously.” He said, jaw ticking as it clenched.

“That’s ridiculous.” You scoffed, “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Really?” He asked, eyebrow rising into the hair draped over his forehead, messy from the brush of his fingers. “So if I kissed you, you wouldn’t freak out?”

He was challenging you; you could see it in his eyes and that smirk quirking the corner of his lips. Like he didn’t believe you actually meant what you said. He linked his finger into the neck of your dress, pulling you dangerously close to him, nose bumping yours gently before stopping.

The room was stuffy with energy, a little too warm for your liking but it was too early in the season to turn on the air conditioning. Yoongi’s dark eyes peered curiously into yours, a silent question as he tilted his head to the side.

“This is an interesting game of chicken.” You breathed.

“It’s not a game to me.” He mumbled, eyes darting across your features, noses dangerously close to bumping again.

“I dare you.” You whispered.

He smiled, nose scrunching before closing the distance and all you could taste was him. His mouth was warm against yours, soft in its perusal of the shape of your lips; careful in its inquiries. You thread trembling fingers through the tufts of raven hair at the back of his head, breathing him in.

He tasted like cheap wine and he pulled you from your chair and into his lap, kisses deepening with his breath. This was better than you could have dreamed up; your fingertips alight with the rough of his sweater as you moved from his shoulders and down his arms.

Your fingers dragged across his abdomen and up to his chest and he shivered. “Sensitive.” You mused against his pout and he sent you a glare before pulling you back into him by the back of your head.

Your hand smoothed carefully down the center of his back as you clung to him and he whined, pulling you even closer and your eyebrow quirked in curiosity at what stirred between the two of you.

You pulled back slightly, sending a look down before glancing back at him and biting your lip. “Interesting.”

“It’s more than interesting and I can prove it…if you want.” He breathed, watching your reaction carefully.

“I love an adventure.” You grinned and he stood with your legs wrapped around him, making his way towards your bedroom.

“You mentioned handcuffs last week, right?” He asked, pausing in your doorway. Your eyebrow jumped and he smirked, nosing at the skin just below your ear. “I might need them.” He whispered, pushing through to your bedroom and kicking the door closed behind him.

The shrill screech of your alarm woke you suddenly and you flailed, arm reaching towards your bedside table to turn it off.

“Why does your alarm sound like an axe murderer?” Yoongi groaned from beside you, rubbing a hand down his face and you jumped. He was bare chested and the blanket around his waist left little to the imagination. Not that you needed imagination anymore.

Like a tidal wave, all memories from last night came rushing back in. You were mortified. Yoongi was now uncomfortably familiar with everything about you; every nook and cranny of your body, like it was his secret to keep. The sounds and faces you make now his intimate companions. You felt like you were being engulfed in flames of shame.

“We’re gonna be late for work.” You murmured, pulling your sheet to shield your body and standing up, racing to the bathroom.

Once locked in the bathroom you dropped the sheet, surveying yourself in the mirror and you groaned softly. At least it wasn’t too warm yet; wearing a turtleneck wouldn’t be completely unreasonable. You quickly stepped into the shower, taking your time lathering the soap as you wondered if Yoongi had left your room yet.

You weren’t lying when you said you were going to be late for work. You had three different types of alarms to wake you up before work and the shrill screech of the alarm that woke you this morning was the last resort alarm.

You rushed through your morning routine before peeking back into your bedroom to make sure the coast was clear. You grabbed a pair of black slacks and a white turtle neck, dressing quickly and pulling on some shoes, before grabbing your bag and making your way out into the kitchen.

“I’ll be in the car!” You called, not bothering to wait for a reply as you rushed from the apartment and to the elevator. You weren’t sure what to say to Yoongi now; you felt like you’d been such an idiot last night. You weren’t drunk by any means, you’d really only had one glass, but alcohol always loosened you up to the point of bad decision making and now you had to live with the consequences.

Having an intimate knowledge of someone left a lot of vulnerability and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking of you now. Did he think you were easy, were you only a conquest? Could you still be friends? Would you still work well together? You felt sick, pressing the garage level button and feeling yourself sink with the elevator.

You waited in the car, anxiety curling your fingers tight around the steering wheel. Why didn’t you think of the morning after last night? You were awkward at the best of times and today was going to be a royal nightmare.

You watched as Yoongi left the elevator, moving towards where you were parked and distracted by the fastening of his watch. He too was dressed in dark slacks and had donned a white sweater and you blanched at the thought of looking like you were wearing couples clothes.

He pulled open the door, sliding in beside you and slipping on his seatbelt before returning to the fastening of his watch. You left the garage in silence, shoulders high and tight. You weren’t sure what to say, should you even bring it up at all? Maybe it was just better to pretend that it never even happened.

By the time you’d parked and made your way up into the office, you felt like you were about to lose it. People had to be kidding themselves if they thought sleeping with a friend wouldn’t change the relationship. It changed everything.

Yoongi sat down at his desk, turning on his computer and checking voicemails. You slipped your bag from your shoulder, sliding carefully into your seat and staring at the black of your computer screen. What if you’d ruined everything? What if you couldn’t work together anymore? You sighed, closing your eyes as you felt a headache coming on before bending over to switch on your own computer.

“Hey,” Yoongi called and you looked over at him. He had his phone perched between his ear and shoulder and was looking directly at you. “Forensics has got something for us. Let’s go check it out.”

You nodded as he hung up, standing and walking with him towards the elevator. Silence prevailed on the ride up but you tried not to let it bother you; tried to ignore the obvious tension. Yoongi seemed calm and that helped ease your shoulders a little. Maybe it wasn’t as serious as you thought it was. That’s what you’d tell yourself for now, anyway.

You swiped your badge at the door, where Diana was waiting for the two of you, smile ready. “Morning.” She greeted, motioning for you to follow her to her desk. “Here’s the paperwork you’re gonna need.”

“What did you find?” Yoongi asked, flipping the envelope open and you peered over his shoulder into the file.

“Hair and skin from your victim embedded in the bat. Looks like you got your guy.”

You grinned at Yoongi, his own excitement palpable as he snapped the folder closed. “Let’s go get him.”

Mr. Grant groaned as he opened the door to his apartment, rolling his eyes. “Here to search me again?”

“Not quite.” Yoongi said, “Turn around, please.”

Mr. Grant huffed a laugh, turning around and sliding his hands behind his back. You stepped forward, placing the hand cuffs around his wrists. “Timothy Grant you are under arrest for assault and attempted murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time.”

“I want a lawyer.” Mr. Grant scoffed, “you’ve got nothing on me. I didn’t even do anything.”

“We’ll see about that.” You smiled, leading him towards the squad car. After the other officers had taken him for booking, both Yoongi and you made your way back to the office, high off adrenaline.

“The vic is still in a coma,” Yoongi remarked as he drove, “but the doctors said they’re seeing positive signs of improvement.”

“Good.” You murmured, stepping from the car. “That family has been through hell.”

The air conditioning of the office was a welcome relief. It was definitely too hot to be wearing a turtleneck, but there was no way you could wear anything else. Especially not around the man who’d wreaked so much havoc on the skin of your neck and clavicle. Even the thought of it was mortifying.

You tugged at the neck of your sweater, fanning yourself with one hand. “Why are you even wearing that?” He asked, looking over at you and you glared at him.

“I think you know why.”

He looked smug.

You turned to your computer, sifting through messages you’d gotten since yesterday. The very last one caught your eye; with a timestamp of 2:45am blinking in red. The subject read “In reference to your cold case” and you clicked on it instantly.

“Yoongi, look at this!” You said, waving him over. He slid his chair over by yours, leaning forward to read your email.

“A new witness?” He murmured and you nodded excitedly.

“It says she’s been living out of the country for years and just got back in town. We need to call her.” You grabbed the phone from its cradle, dialing the number left in the email and Yoongi lounged beside you as you waited. “Hello, is this Ms. Russo? Hi, my name is Detective Y/N, I just read your email. Do you happen to have any time to come in today? Yes, an hour would be fine. Ok, great, see you then!”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows at you, lounged all the way back in his chair. “She coming in?”

“In an hour.” You nodded. “This might be the thing that breaks the case.”

“Let’s not get our hopes up too high, though. Healthy expectations, right?” He said, sliding his chair back to his desk and you nodded with a pout.

“Yeah, I know.”

Ms. Russo arrived an hour later; a young woman in her mid-twenties with long dark hair, curling at the ends and deep, dark brown eyes searching the room as she clutched the purse on her shoulder. You greeted her, inviting her to sit with you in the interrogation room, Yoongi already sat waiting with the cold case file.

“Thank you so much for coming in. We were so excited to hear you had information for us, this case has been so daunting.” You said as Ms. Russo sat across from you, setting her purse beside the leg of her chair.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. My family moved away when I was young and I didn’t really have the means of coming back until now. At the time it didn’t seem like I knew anything important, but I don’t think that’s so true.” She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, fastening her fingers together and looking over at her.

“How did you and Ms. Loft know each other?” Yoongi inquired, flipping open the case file.

“We were best friends.” Ms. Russo said, “She was a couple years older than me, but we lived on the same street almost our entire lives so we grew up really close.”

“In your email you said you had something for us?” You asked and she nodded, reaching into her bag and pulling out an envelope.

“I received this letter about a month ago, just before I moved back here. It’s from her.” You paused, staring down at the letter and you could see her eyes filling with the emotions of years of unanswered questions. “Emily was not the type to run away. I know her; she would never do that. Her parents were strict, but she didn’t resent them for that. Her younger brother died in an accident when we were all kids. It changed them. She would have never done anything to cause more pain, you need to know that.”

She wiped at her cheeks as tears fell, her breath shuddering before she continued. “The day that Emily went missing is the day my family moved. We were taking a taxi to the airport and I saw her out the window, a few blocks from where we lived. She was talking to some guy, but I didn’t recognize him. The conversation seemed tense, but they were across the street from where our taxi was so I couldn’t hear anything. I tried to call out to her to say goodbye, but she didn’t hear me. Just before we drove around the corner, I saw him grab her arm and start pulling her, but then I didn’t see anything else. I was so naïve at the time, but I just figured he was a friend and they were having a fight. I should have insisted we go get her. I didn’t know.”

She passed the letter across the table and with gloved fingers, you picked it up, opening carefully. “This is not your fault.” You insisted, looking over at her, her eyes bloodshot already.

“She’s been forced into prostitution,” She remarked softly, pointing at the letter in your hands, “she’s been waiting for the day they trusted her enough to give her a little privacy and she managed to send that letter. It went to my old house, but somehow it got rerouted to my parent’s place. I don’t know how, it was like a miracle. She gives a lot of details about her circumstances, but she also gives some really good information on where she’s located. Please find her.”

“Do you remember what the man looked like? The one who grabbed her?” You asked and she frowned, staring down at the table.

“It’s been almost 11 years, certain details are foggy, but I remember enough to give you a general description.”

“Would you be willing to do that for our sketch artist and write a statement of everything you saw?”

“Of course.”

While Ms. Russo worked with the sketch artist you sat with Yoongi, reading over the letter. All this time, people just assumed she’d run away. She could have been saved from this. You wanted to cry from the frustration; too many people had written her off, just assumed she was a troubled young woman.

You couldn’t even imagine what her life had been like, the sorrow her parents would feel when they found out. To lose two of their three children was already more than they could bare, you were not looking forward to sharing these new details.

You hoped that at least they would feel hope that she could still be recovered. Best case scenario, she could be found and go into recovery with years’ worth of therapy. She was likely addicted to drugs and would need a lot of help.

Sometimes you still wondered why you’d chosen this career path; the depravity of humanity made you feel so angry and empty.

Knowing you can make a difference in people’s lives, though…saving people from situations they can’t get out of themselves. That’s what drove you to keep going. “What are you thinking about?” Yoongi asked softly and you glanced over at him, perched beside you along the side of your desk.

“Emily.” You sighed, folding the letter and sliding it back into its evidence bag. “I wish things could have been better for her. Different.”

He nodded, watching as Ms. Russo directed the artist to tweak something in his drawing. “Life isn’t fair, Y/N.” He sighed, “The only thing we can do is make the moments we have worthwhile.”

You nodded, humming an affirmative as you stared back down at the envelope. “Yeah.”

Later that evening, after Ms. Russo had left and evidence had been sent off to the lab, you stretched, lethargic, in your chair as Yoongi stood from his own, groaning and rubbing at the small of his back.

“I was thinking,” he yawned, “what if I order delivery tonight? We can celebrate with the rest of the wine from yesterday and just relax, enjoy our success.”

“That sounds really nice, actually.” You smiled, standing from your own desk and slinging your bag across your shoulder. It was unreasonably heavy at this time of night, but the idea of warm food you didn’t have to cook called you outside to your car.

The evening was warm and you tugged at the neck of your sweater, a little sweaty after a long day but too tired to mind. The sun had set by now and the world felt still as you made your way towards the car, unlocking the doors and throwing your bag in the back seat.

The wind rushing was your soundtrack as you drove with the windows down. Yoongi had reclined his head, arm out the window and he looked the picture of calm. You wondered if he’d fallen asleep; wondered what his thoughts were about last night, if it was still on his mind like it was yours.

It was easy to brush those thoughts away with the distraction of work, but now in the silence of your car all your questions returned, loud and obnoxious, bouncing around in your brain. He was calm, silent, and aside from asking about your sweater earlier, hadn’t made any mention of anything to do with what happened. You couldn’t help but wonder if you just needed to take a page from his book and relax.

Once you’d made it back to your apartment, you pulled out all the delivery menus for him and told him to get whatever. You needed another rinse off after a long day anyway so you would trust that he knew what to order.

Your bedroom was just as you’d left it; a reminder of the evening you’d spent in Yoongi’s arms. Your clothes from last night were still spattered around the room and you picked them up slowly, dumping them in your hamper. His shirt from yesterday was still draped across the chair by the window and you picked it up, staring at it absentmindedly.

You wondered if you could return it to him without it being weird. You sighed again, dropping it back onto the chair before heading to the shower to rinse off. By the time you were out and dressed in your pajamas, the food had just arrived and your stomach growled eagerly as Yoongi tossed you a pair of chopsticks.

“Chinese takeout?’ You questioned, sitting in the love seat while he dominated the middle of your couch.

“I was craving egg rolls.” He hummed.

You dug in eagerly, groaning happily as you chewed. Yoongi looked up at you with a smile before allowing his eyes to trace the skin of your neck that you’d left bare. You were suddenly self-conscious, acutely aware of just how much of your neck was marked by his mouth.

You hadn’t thought of it when you were dressing, only the doorbell as the food arrived and the growling of your stomach. You shifted awkwardly, taking a big bite of a dumpling and Yoongi looked down at his food, chuckling.

“You don’t have to make it weird, you know?” He commented and you glanced up at him, eyebrows rising. “Don’t stress about it, we can label things or we can just be casual, whatever. I don’t regret last night, though.”

“You don’t?” You whispered and he shook his head, spooning a mouthful of fried rice as distraction.

“Do you?” He queried, looking up at you.

“No. I just didn’t know how you felt about it.” You admitted, pushing some of the food around your plate. You could feel his eyes on you, but you weren’t brave enough to meet them yet. “I don’t regret it, though.”

“Good. Then so far, we’re on the same page.” The two of you allowed silence to lapse for a few moments as you ate, quiet but content. “I started thinking about what your mom said.”

“Huh?”

“Last night, what she said about friendship and love and what not. Felt weird to be talking about that last night in reference to us because it was like all my secrets were suddenly out. I figured that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to say something. If it was really just me feeling this way then at least I’d know where I stood.”

“It’s not just you.” You whispered, smiling shy as you grabbed some chow mein noodles to drop on your plate.

“Come here.” He mumbled, reaching out for you, pulling you into his side, thighs touching and his fingers danced across your waist, tugging you close. “Whatever you want this to be, let’s do that. I’m happy as long as you are.”

Your hip burned where he touched and you picked up a water chestnut, popping it into your mouth and chewing idly. “I’ve always been one for knowing where I stand in a relationship.”

“Like dating?” He asked and you nodded softly. “Then tie me down, baby.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, “you do realize this means my family is going to really start asking when you’re gonna put a baby in me, right?”

Yoongi grinned wolfishly, running the tip of his nose down yours, leaning in for a kiss that took the air right out of your lungs. “We’re gonna need a little more practice before that,” he teased, fingers dancing at the back of your scalp, “gotta make sure I really know how to shoot the shot.”

You laughed, scandalized. “Practice makes perfect.” You agreed, leaning in to kiss him again and he returned the affection eagerly.

“First, I’ve gotta finish these egg rolls though. They’re incredible; definitely pin this take out place to the fridge.”

You laughed, watching him bite into another egg roll, moaning as he chewed. He looked over at you and down at your nearly forgotten plate. “You’d better eat up, baby, you’re gonna need your energy.” He smirked.

“You talk a big game.” You grinned, filling your plate with more food.

“Only because I know I can back it up.”

“I look forward to it.” You winked.

****

I hope you enjoyed and I look forward to hearing from you! <3

#yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff #btsbookclub

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