Criminal Case One-Shots

Payne at the Seine: A Colourful Reflection

C/W: Mentions of death, mentions of ghosts, mentions of murder.

It was a Sunday. The Seine looked red. Unfortunately, it wasn't for any nice reason, like a reflection of a firework. It was blood.

The body had since been removed. The murder had since been solved. But something about it shook Nicola Payne. So she remained at the crime scene. Alone.

Looking into the dark waters, she recalled the colour red and all that it meant. Blood. Death. The Crimson Order. Chief King's betrayal. The Skulls. Troy Cassidy being involved with the murder of Jake Hayes and kidnapping of Carter.

Red wasn't all bad. Some friends had liked the colour. It could also be a colour associated with passion. It was literally on her family crest. Red wasn't all bad at all.

But it was here. The colour was giving Nicola a headache. She'd had a long night. It was time to rest for a bit.

– – –

It was a Monday. The Seine looked orange. Full of orange flower petals, the favourite colour of the victim. Overnight, people had paid their respects. Roses, tulips, chrysanthemums, begonias, and from the victim's wife – snapdragons.

What could orange remind Nicola of? Well, like the victim, she was also partial to the colour. Her scarf was a dark orange colour. In some places, it was a positive colour, full of energy and happiness. It even reminded her of the hair colour of quite a few friends. At a young age, she'd tried ginger hair. Then she realised it didn't suit her.

Unless you were in prison in some places such as the USA. Nicola had gotten sick of seeing prisoners. She rarely went to visit any in the past few years. A shame that they had nearly ruined her favourite colour.

Her blood boiled at the thought of more annoying people she'd arrested wearing her favourite colour. Yes, it was petty. No, she didn't care. Not anymore.

– – –

It was a Tuesday. The Seine looked yellow. Or at least, the reflection of the Sun in the river had a yellow tint to it.

The victim's family would one day look back at their memories with joy, not sadness. But mourning took a while. Nicola had had enough mourning for a lifetime.

Over the years, yellow had turned from a happy – though bright – colour associated with joy and friendship to the eyes of the SOMBRA assassins. Sure, she'd sorted them out 5 years ago. but Nicola was still worried about them. Sure, the werewolves also had yellow eyes, but she thought of SOMBRA more often.

The bright colour also made Nicola think of the blond hair of many of her friends. And her wife, too. A long time ago, she had pondered going blonde. But remembering her not-so-pleasant father, she quickly chucked that idea into her mental recycling bin.

She felt scared in her younger years. Not wanting to be a crappy parent like him. Her father. But she hadn't worried about him in years. 2012 was a strange year, but on the plus side, the bastard was dead. On the downside, it meant he couldn't rot in prison for what he did.

It made her feel guilty and sick. But she was moving past it.

– – –

It was a Wednesday. The Seine looked green. Some trees had regained their leaves early, only to lose them by a powerful gust.

The family of the victim would gain new life as the generations went, growing and growing. One day, the victim would be forgotten. But with how many people shared their condolences, it would probably be quite a long time until that happened.

Green made Nicola think of, well, Greene. Alden Reginal Greene. The murderer of Rachel, a short-lived friend of hers. Karen was another victim, the ex-wife of her old partner, Frank. They had only just sorted their differences and started again, only for her to die... And for Frank to take his revenge out on Greene.

Nicola hated Greene, too, but murdering him? They could've easily sent him to prison. Maximum security, most likely, seeing as he was a serial escapee. She could only imagine how his youngest grandson was doing, with a dead mother, a murderous grandfather and half-brother, a nanny who seemed to care though it could just be for the pay, and a father who didn't really have any memorable qualities other than "his father and son were both murderers".