One shots

Beebo

"See you later," I said to my housemate waving good bye.
"See ya drew," he waved back. I got into my Ford Mustang boss 429. I put the key in the ignition and turned it. The car roared to life. I backed out of our small driveway on to the asphalt, the dark black thing people call a road. I began my drive to work. It was about eight thirty in the morning, the sun was shining over the tall buildings, trees and parks. There were people doing their morning run before work, kids getting dropped off at the local school, some with a look of despise, people getting on buses and, of course, people driving. It was a short fifteen minute drive to work. As I turned to go into the underground parking, I noticed James and Dylan had another dude in handcuffs. Probably the wrong guy again, oh well. This will be their second year with the bureau. I parked in my designated spot, right next to my assistant slash trainee, Trish. Trust was blonde, not hair colour, I meant dumb, stupid. Well, obviously not that dumb or stupid because if she was she wouldn't have this job, but she definitely doesn't always see the point of the evidence. I got out of the car along with my stuff I needed to start the year with. I had my new laptop, pens and other necessary stationary paraphernalia. I walked over to the elevator and press the 'up' button. It was soon on my level, underground parking. I stepped in and pressed button for the fourth floor, that's where my office was. The elevator went up two storeys, stopped and let people in, then it continued to go up.
"Morning," I said with a friendly smile. The man that had just walked and gave me a nod and smile. The elevator then went up another two storeys and stopped. I walked out as someone walked in. I started down the hallway.
"Morning Fred," I said to one of the guys, as I passed him.
"Morning M," he said. I rolled my eyes and laughed at his James Bond reference.  I turned right at the end of the hall and continued to the end of that hall where I turn left into my office.
"The names Evans Trish Evans," she said turning around in MY new office chair that I bought for ME. All I could do was have a little giggle to myself. Trish can act like a kid sometimes, at the most inappropriate times. Example; when we caught a mass  murderer she said to him 'how could you kill a bunch of church goers?' I have to admit, that was really funny. If it was intended, she should give this up and become a comedian.
"Morning Trish," I said with a laugh, shaking my head.
"Wanna hear something cool?" She asks like a twelve year old about to get a bunch of lollies.
"Yeah?"
"We've already got our first case! The first one since the break!" She said excitedly.
"Really? Field case?" I asked just as excited as her. She nodded eagerly. "Awesome!" I yelled, a bit too loud. Hehe, whoops. "When do we get started?"
"Whenever you're ready. We've just gotta see your boss," she explained. I nodded and walked out. "Where are you going?" She asked, sticking her head out the door.
"To see my boss," I said smirking. As I walked down what seemed like endless corridors, that I somehow knew my way around, I finally came to my bosses room. He was the head of the department in Washington D.C.
"Morning agent drew, I presume you're here for your new case?" He asked. I nodded. "Ok, here are the files. I'll have another agent to give you a briefing about it," he said handing me some papers. I walked back to my office reading the papers. When I arrived I saw a bored looking Trish spinning in my chair.
"You're back!" She exclaimed, "took your time."
"Goodman told me someone will come by to gives us a quick briefing." She nodded. About ten minutes later we had both read the file and Fred comes in. "Freddie my man!" I said in a joking manner. This earned a laugh from both him and Trish.
"Hey M, hey T." If you have t figured it out, both Fred and Trish are James Bond fans, that's why they have this job. They like undercover, special ops/agent stuff, and to say they were good at it would be an understatement. "So, this was my case a couple of years ago, it came to an end because we couldn't find anything that lead us to the murderer. We deemed it a dead case. Now, there has been a murder the exact Sam to the previous ones in this case. We have reason to believe that the murderer, and possible serial killer, is Charlie Jackson. He has been on the run from police for three years now. We have suspicion that he is armed and dangerous," Fred explained. I shake my head. It can't be Charlie Jackson unless someone stole his identity.
"Do we know the suspects personal details; middle name, date of birth, place of birth parents etcetera?" I asked. Fred shook his head. "You sure his name is Charlie?" He shakes his head. "You sure it's a he not a she?" He shakes his head again.
"You ok drew?" Trish asked. I nod just staring at the carpet. It can't be Charlie Jackson, it just can't. After Fred left, so did Trish. I'm not sure what she wine to do. I just sat in my (comfy) office chair at my dest looking at the file. Looking at the pictures of who 'we' think Charlie Jackson is. I shake my head in disbelief.

*

The buzz of my phone broke my thoughts and the silence that had fallen on the room.
"Hello?"
"Hey drew, wanna go out for lunch?" the voice on the other end asked.
"Sure, when and where?"
"Now? And where ever you want," Brendon, my housemate and best friend, replied.
"Can do, I need to get my mind off this case."
"Already?" He asked half sarcastically, half surprised. I nodded then realised he couldn't see me.
"Yeah," I kinda laughed.

*

We as walked in I noticed a sign. 'Royal Diner'. In the window was a small blue, red and green sign that was lite up, 'Open'. We sat down at one of the small booths next to a window.
"So," Brendon said staring out the window.
"So." Then back to silence.
"Hi, what can I get you?" A young waitress asks.
"Oh, um. Water please," I reply.
"Same here thanks," Brendon says, showing a smile. The lady walks off. I continue to stare out the window at the crowds walking by.  There were busy men in suits and tie, women hurrying across the street to get back to work on time. Young parents taking their toddlers on a day out. "Thanks," I heard Brendon say. I turn my head and realised that we got our water. I picked up the glass and took a sip. Brendon did the same. Silence was once again, upon us. After what seemed like a millennia, Brendon spoke. "What's up?" He asked.