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Apples to Apples

Apples, Trevor Grey thought, looking around, where are the damn apples? He glanced down yet another aisle and saw his dream come true.

Apples.

Everywhere you looked. Red apples, green apples, golden apples. Small apples, apples almost as big as your head. Apples to eat, apples to savor. Apples to give to your kids, apples to save for yourself. Apples for every occasion imaginable.

He grabbed one head-sized apple for fun, a bag of Fuji apples, and some golden delicious apples. On the way to the counter he remembered that Paige had wanted a Smartwater. And he considered himself lucky that he'd remembered before she slaughtered him with her temper. He paid for everything and headed out to the car. Where his rather pissed-off, aforementioned partner was waiting.

"What took so fucking long?" She demanded.

"Apples." A man of few words was Trevor. He'd always felt that talking was something that should be saved for necessary things. Like interrogating suspects. As of late, however, Paige did all the talking for him, so he could just watch.

Paige growled something that one should never say about fruit — especially apples — then resigned herself to a mere sigh. "Did you at least get my water?" Trevor pulled the bottle out of his oversized coat pocket and tossed it to her. The instant she caught it her cell phone started bleating some song that Trevor had little interest in identifying.

She answered her phone as politely as she did everything else when she was in this mood. "What the fuck do you want?" She listened for a moment, and then her face took on a cruel smile.

It was a look he'd become well acquainted with. Thank God he'd never been on the receiving end.

She ended the call and turned to him. "They finally caught her. All we have to do is read her her rights." 

He cocked a brow at her. Why hasn't that been done already? 

"I told the Lieutenant and the DA that I wanted the honor of slapping the cuffs on her. And I didn't tell him what evidence we had that would get her. He wasn't too happy."

Trevor nodded and felt sorry for the Lieutenant. No one should ever have to put up with Paige Greene when she's like this. Never a dull moment with my partner.

On the plus side, Paige was the first partner he'd had in years that had picked up on his silent form of communicating.

They climbed into the car and set off. Trevor spent the entirety of the trip stuffing three apples into his pockets and then eating another one. When they finally made it back to the station, they parked in their spot and went inside. They set up the interrogation room (though all they did was put an apple in the middle of the table) and waited till Marcy Brandt was led in.

She eyed the window first, as if she knew they were there. Then Trevor and Paige left the Lieutenant and the DA to wreak havoc on Miss Brandt. Trevor took up position beside the mirror, and Paige sat down across from Brandt. She snatched the apple off the table and tossed it back to him without a glance and without a word.

He caught it and took a large bite, trying — without much difficulty — to make the sound as obnoxious as possible. Brandt obviously found this annoying, and — was that? — disgust? He smiled inwardly, but kept his outward appearance blank and bored.

Paige began rifling through the file, flipping the pages noisily until she found what she was looking for.

By this time Trevor had finished his apple and thrown the core into the garbage. He sat down next to Brandt and then tipped the chair back on it's hind legs, sticking his feet on the table and leaning back as if relaxing. It was actually very uncomfortable, but Brandt didn't need to know that. He noticed that she looked excruciatingly pissed, silently fuming in her seat. "Gotcha," he said quietly.

She blinked, not so much because of what he'd said, but mostly because of that fact that he'd spoken at all. It was the first thing he'd ever said around her. All the talking before now had been done by Paige. She regained her pathetic 'I'm a badass chick' composure and glared at him. "You can't prove anything." 

He ignored her and turned to his partner, as if to ask, Is it there? He didn't need to say anything; she nodded, highlighting something. Then she pulled out a paper and slid it across the table. Brandt read the highlighted lines then leaned back and shrugged. "I don't know what that is."

"DNA test. You said, and I quote, 'I didn't even know there was a Walnut Street,' end quote. And yet your DNA matches that found at the crime scene. Not to mention your prints match those found on the murder weapon."

Paige stood up and walked around the table, "Marcy Brandt, you are under arrest for the murder of Mack Cullen."

Trevor cleared his throat. "You have the right to remain silent," he said. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed for you. Do you understand your rights as they have been read to you?" It was the first time he'd read the Miranda instead of Paige since they'd become partners, but this had been personal for her, and she had asked him to do it. Said she didn't want to start screaming.

"Clear as day," Brandt snarled. "That DNA doesn't prove anything. Nothing! You have nothing but -- but... circumstance!" Trevor arched one dark brow at her. Really? Brandt had never been all that bright.

"Good-bye, Miss Brandt," Paige said. Brandt glared some weak imitation of hellfire and bloody daggers at them as she was led out. As soon as she was gone, Trevor sent a mild glare at his partner. From him, that was the equivalent of an exaggerated death-glare. "Sorry," Paige said. He nodded his forgiveness. What little there was of it anyway. He pulled an apple out of his pocket and took a large but relatively silent bite. "Closed," Trevor said between bites.

"And you're still crazy."

He shrugged. Almost against his will, his lips twitched up in a tiny smile. It was barely there, but even if it hadn't been there it would have made little difference. Good ol' Paige Greene. She understood him perfectly.

Wouldn't have it any other way.

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This is a newer version of this story. When I first wrote it, it featured Klocke and Haiden, who are the main characters of my book, The Messenger. I was also thirteen (about five years ago) when I wrote it, and the characters have changed considerably since their birth. I didn't want to take this story down however, thus I created Paige Greene and Trevor Grey.

So here you are! New and improved! (Somewhat.)

Till next time!☺