Nerium oleander

Greenhouse

Alfred drove slowly, his eyes focused on the road, from time to time he could hear his partner shifting pages, the man had been going through the documents for a while now, silence engulfing them as the rumbling of the engine came to a stop.

Silence, from all the things this man could do, Alfred feared his silence. Officer Braginsky was thinking, analyzing, plotting. Two months in this godforsaken town had taught Alfred to fear this man's silence. The last time he was this silent, Gilbert ended up with a broken nose.

Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, Alfred sighed, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Would you mind telling me what's so interesting about a folder that we have read a hundred times already?"

The glare from the man on the seat beside made him pause, a sly smile formed on his face as he talked. "I don't know, aren't you the star detective?"

Alfred's smile faltered, to say this man was annoying was an understatement. Alfred F. Jones was brought into this small town to complete his training, he was the top student back in the academia but a stupid mistake with the instructor sealed his fate. Now, he had to waste a year of his life in Adelfa, a town where the murder rate was apparently low and the young people eloped without leaving a trace. Good news for the inhabitants, bad news for him.

What was a soon to be FBI homicide detective doing in a town like this? Nothing, he was merely absorbing the local gossiping without asking. These people were so plain that it was easy to tell if the mailman had an affair with a housewife or if the mayor was covering up the town's growth numbers by blaming it on the insecurity rates.

The people he'd met were predictable, simple, boring, the only one slightly out of place was the man next to him. Braginsky was the puzzle Alfred was so desperate to find in the town. This man was smart, perhaps not brilliant, but he wasn't a fool either, the piled up books on his work desk were proof of that, he also had an almost impeccable record of work, except for that one time that could have costed him his career if an 'important person' hadn't stepped in for him.

Chief Beilshmidt made sure to warn Alfred "don't offer him any alcoholic drink" he said. Why on earth would he do that? Officer Braginsky was exasperating sober, Alfred didn't want to deal with him drunk. Not only was he intimidating, Braginsky was odd, disappearing on his non-working days, showing up to the office as if he'd been beaten by a wild animal and that eerie, constant smile he wore, made sure to keep everyone out of his way.

Almost everyone, Alfred had no doubt that his gay ass was falling deeper into the hole of infatuation for this annoying man. Though that might just be his lack of entertainment in the town.

Ivan was a jerk but he had unveiled Alfred's preferences as soon as they were assigned as partners, providing him with the assurement that for the very least, he was not alone. Too bad this guy seemed to have low to zero sexual drive or interest in him, always ignoring Alfred's innuendos.

On the days he was not busy doing who knows what, Alfred had tried to get to know him better but Braginsky was like a wall of concrete where his questions either crashed or bounced back.

Only god knew where Ivan went on those days he disappeared until dawn, though Alfred had a gut feeling that he didn't want to know what he was up to. If he had to guess, it was probably some messed up fight club shit where he was not invited, for the looks of it, Alfred was better off without knowing.

"Look, I know we started the day with the wrong foot today but if we want to close the case properly, we have to work on this together." Alfred said, adjusting his glasses. "You can start by telling me what happened to your hand."

"It's nothing, I was washing the dishes and one of the cups broke. This weather It's awfully hot," Ivan replied, enveloping a scarf around his neck and giving him a sly smile as he stepped out of the car. "Your observations become worse each day. The file is wrong, Arthur Kirkland wasn't on a sabbatical year."