Assault With a Deadly Weapon || N.H / 1D

78.

Song recommendation: Never Really Mine by the Lumineers
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In my early months as a detective, when I first arrived at the seventeenth precinct, I would often discuss my dreams of operating a storm with my coworkers. I was a wide-eyed, naive girl, though it was only a mere sixteen months ago. I was extremely unaware of the horrors I was destined to face in my career.

"You've been here for two months and you haven't once just shut up about invasions." Styles leaned back on my desk, sipping his fresh coffee casually.

"I've known you for two months and you haven't given me a break." I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Give you a break?" Horan scoffed from his computer, his eyes focused on a case file, fingers typing steadily. "What a hypocrite."

"Sorry?" My eyes peered over the screen, glaring daggers at the unimpressed detective. "What did you say?"

"I said, you are a hypocrite." He repeated confidently, pulling his attention away from his current work.

"Did I ask for your commentary Horan?" I tilted my head, wanting to assert my dominance in the situation. I didn't want Horan to think that he could walk all over me.

"No, but I didn't ask for your unpleasant presence, so I guess this evens it out." He gave me an ingenuine smile, flashing his perfect teeth.

"Anyway," Styles broke the astronomically high amount of sexual tension. "What makes you think that storms are so glamorous?"

"I don't think they're glamorous per say," I crossed my legs and leaned back in my chair, avoiding direct eye contact with Styles. His gaze was too intense to face head on. "I just think it's an important part of being a detective. I can't really say I'm an experienced detective if I've never infiltrated a crime, can I?"

"No, you can't say you're an experienced detective because you've only been working here for two fucking months." Horan chimed in, choosing not to mind his own business.

"Would you piss off?" I scowled, not wanting him to hear any more of my detective fantasies.

"Play nice Carter." Payne gave me a look as he passed by, his tone seeming serious, but it also had a hint of playfulness hidden in the undertones that I'd obviously missed.

"Sorry sir." I felt myself shrink into my chair as he scolded me.

"Serves you." Horan chuckled.

All I could do was glare.

"I'm just saying, don't get your hopes up." Styles ran a hand through his long chestnut curls. "Storms are scary, and you have to be prepared."

"I know." I shook my head, as if his warning would never affect me.

Turns out, I did have to be prepared, and nothing in this universe could've prepared me for my first storm.

CRASH!

"What was that?" Naomi's voice screeched out through the church. "What is happening?"

All I could hear was the beating of my own heart in my ears. Blood was pumping violently through my veins with the force of a thousand earthquakes. And the ringing, oh the ringing. It was not church bells that I heard, but a stinging, buring, screech in my ears that made my skull ache.

I scanned the room, watching as all the criminals that I'd gotten to know over the past nine months looked back at the church doors in horror. The women were scared, their faces turned white, and their hands gripped onto their male companions. Those males were already glancing at each other, realising that they had just been caught.