"𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍." - Reba McEntire. "Fancy". 1990.
🐻Fancy🐰Mike🐤Ness🦊Vanessa✨
In which, Francine Jenkins is a Yale pre law and criminal justice major completing her senior thesis...
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"What took you so long?"
Fancy asked as mike finally opened the door to the pizzeria. "You look like you've been sleeping." She added and Mike sighed. "I was." "Shame shame Michael." She scolded him teasingly as she followed him once again back to his office. "Sleeping on the job that's a big no no." She added. Mike rolled his eyes.
"So barbie-" "It's Fancy." "Well you look like a barbie." "What is that supposed to mean?" Fancy countered, taking the comment as an insult when it obviously was far from it. "Have you seen a barbie?" "Yes they're dull and plastic." "Not the ones my sister used to play with." "then indulge me, Mike, what kind of barbies did your sister play with?" "Well, for starters, Abby- that's my sister- was always gentle with her barbies. She never played rough with them. They all had soft neatly brushed hair, well put together outfits, they were just pretty. I dunno." "So I'm confused Mike, are you trying to compliment me or-?" "Compliment..." Mike admitted sheepishly, his hand going to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah... compliment. Sorry." "It's fine." Fancy said with a smile. "It's sweet." She added and began to unpack her bag.
Mike's eyes widened when she pulled out a flashlight with something taped over the light's lens.
"What all did you pack in there?" He asked "And what's that for?" He asked, pointing to the seemingly incapacitated flashlight.
"Oh," She said, "I forgot to ask you, is it alright if I have a look around?" "... Why?" "to look for clues." She said and pulled a baggie of q tips from her bag.
"I know it's been nearly twenty years since the original crime and the crime scene is practically contaminated but I'd like to take a look around if that's alright." "Yeah that's fine just let me come with you." "Why? Can't you just watch me on the cameras?" "I'd rather go with you. Just in case." Fancy shrugged. "Suit yourself."
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
"So what's with the flashlight?" He asked, pointing to the large silver cylinder with a candy wrapped tapped to the end. "Black light." She said as she flipped it on and shined it on the ground. "Whats the point of that?" Mike asked. "Haven't you ever seen on the news where they go investigate how clean hotels really are and they use a blacklight?" Mike shook his head and Fancy sighed.
"Black light shows body fluids. It shows you how well your sheets at Motel 8 really are or in our case, shows us a trance of blood that our killer left behind." "Will it still work if that blood trail is 20 years old?" "I honestly have no idea." She admitted as they walked. "But it's worth a try." She added.
