STAY STILL |J.J.K|

One

A man was sound asleep, on his desk.

His face splattered on his sofisticated computer's keyboard, letting out now and then, light snores, as his back rose and sunk at the rythm of his steady breath.

The previous night, he had to search the informations for the case he was assigned to, but his eyelids got heavy, and before he knew it, his head was bopping up and down, as he was losing the fight with himself to stay awake, slowly falling in dreamland.

A loud smack snapped suddenly in the office, the sound caused the man to flinch and fall backwards with his spin-chair.

"Oh, sorry! Did I perhaps wake you up?" a girly voice spoke, not sounding sorry at all, echoing in the dazed's man's brain.

As soon as he realized who smacked him, he hurriedly stood up and greeted miliratly the girl and mumbled a "sorry".She had a poker face on, as she watched with pity the man that had deep dark cirles under his eyes.

"Grab a coffee and then go back to work. I hope this won't happen again. It's already the fifth time this month." she coldly commented.

That said, she turned on her heels and walked away.

Meanwhile, the man rubbed his eyes, picked up the chair and mumbled under his breath.

"What a bitch."

He wasn't a lucky man. Hell no.
Sure, being a police man wasn't an easy job, but that wasn't a problem. No, the problem was that he was in the same department as that girl.

Camille Kenneth. Best and youngest detective of the whole NYPD.

Also a complete bitch, speaking about her attitude.

Working with her was as easy as riding a bike. Only that, the bike was on FIRE, he was on fire, EVERYTHING was on fire and he was in hell.

But he knew she was right about the coffee, so between a groan and some arm stretching, he stood up and headed to the coffee machine.

Camille was in her office, checking her e-mails from the scientific-analysis department about the last case.

Suddenly, her secretary, knocked on the door and came in, leaving a note on her desk.

-Manhattan

number 37 on Peterson's street

apartment 9a

on the second floor.

There lives a drug dialer.

He is about to sell his biggest quantity.

Go there at 8:00 PM.-

"This note was found this morning between the mails. Boss told me to let you know that this case is assigned to your authority. The car will be ready in minutes."

Hearing that, glimpsing for a split second at the note, Camille stood up and put on her jacket, placed her gun in her inner pocket and got herself downstairs, where the car was already waiting.