Smoker x Reader | Places

1

Smoker sped to the explosion, not even bothering to turn on his siren or lights until halfway there; not enough cars were out for him to need them, and he only clicked them on because of protocol.

When he finally arrived, ten other police cars were already there with thrice as many people, other first responders doing their jobs already. Firemen putting out the last bit of flames, ambulances rushing to and from the scene carrying injured, and some making a handful of unfortunate souls comfortable as they pass to another world, or maybe to nowhere---Smoker wasn't sure.

Officers investigated the scene, rolling the yellow police tape around the scene. One (his name was Bastille and Smoker had worked with him and seen him around often) was questioning some unharmed or lightly injured witnesses. When he was done, Smoker approached him. "What do we know?" he asked.

"Well, nothin' as of now. An explosion happened-dara. Maybe it was an accident or maybe not. We dunno. All the witnesses seem a lil' dizzy, like their head's in the clouds-dara." He sighed. "In't it odd? Seems no place for an explosion-dara." He always took odd shortcuts with talking, removing letters here and there, and had a tendency to add 'dara' to the end of some of his sentences. Whatever that meant.

"Yeah. Odd. Any word from Head?"

"Nah. The man's gettin' told 'bout it now. A lil' rookie's callin' him up-dara. Ya know that upstart pinky? What was his name... Kaden? Karl? Karen? K---"

"Koby," Smoker said. "His name's Koby."

"Yeah, that's right. In't he Garp's lil' apprentice or somthin'-dara?"

Smoker shrugged, tired of the talk and anxious to see the damage up close. "Maybe. I'm gonna check out what happened."

He headed towards the building---or rather where the building was---and looked at the charred remains. The buildings around it were damaged too, and it was all soaked from the firefighters' work.

Koby tapped the much larger man, grabbing his attention. "Er, Head Akainu told me to tell everyone that he's sending a detective. He suspects there's more to it, so he's sending Miss (L/N)."

Smoker hummed. "Right. Thanks, Koby."

The younger man (boy, really) nodded and went off to inform the others.

Smoker knew well of (Y/N) (L/N), a name everyone had heard, and he was both rather fond of her and not at the same time. He admired her skills and ability to crack any case that came her way, but he did not appreciate her lack of social skills outside of professional talk, and she seemed to dislike everyone. She didn't ever approve of anyone either, except Head Akainu, who reciprocates such approval.

He was knocked from his thoughts of the detective when she herself stepped beside him. Her arms were crossed, and her (H/C) hair was neatly groomed, and her casual suit helped the part-casual-part-professional look. If she wasn't so stoic and terrible at speaking to people on casual terms, it'd be the perfect outfit.

"What do witnesses say?" she asked, eyes flickering around at the area.

"Haven't spoken to any directly, but Bastille said they weren't all there." He glanced down at her, anticipating a response.

She pulled a pen---a cheap Papermate retractable pen that showed signs of habit---from her sleeve and a small notebook from her dark (F/C) blazer pocket and scribbled a flurry of things down. Smoker could barely read the words, but he supposed that happened when you had to write fast.

Something about the scene and burn marks, specific things she saw, and noted at the bottom 'witnesses probably unstable, may be from', then a word he wasn't familiar with, or maybe he just couldn't see right.

"May I?" She tipped the police tape up with her pen. Smoker nodded and grunted 'yes', and she ducked under the yellow strand.

She crouched and observed closer, chewing on the end of the pen. After a few minutes, she took it and scratched in another page or two of notes before clapping the little book closed and tucking it back into her pocket, along with the pen back into the sleeve.

From the other side of her blazer, she took out a pair of rubber gloves and snapped them onto her hands, picked up something, Smoker couldn't see, and placed it into a plastic bag, along with the gloves afterward.

She stood and once again ducked under the tape, and without another word, left Smoker.

__Θ__

You pulled your phone out---an old, outdated, classic drug-dealer looking flip phone---and rung Head up. Rang once, twice, then he picked up.

"Head Akainu," you greeted simply.

'Miss (L/N).'

"I'm gonna need some aid, here. There's a skeleton. Kind of. Even it was harmed by the explosion. It was probably the cause of a power from a holder. It was an extremely powerful blast, but it was managed to be contained within a precise range of, I'd say, 3500 feet diameter to the inch. I'll need the forensics team to inspect a bit of the skeleton. The entire one can wait, I need a sample ASAP."

'Of course. Any leads?'

You paused for a moment, thinking. "17---no, 18 solid ones. But I need to narrow it down, I need those sample results to do so. I've done the inspecting I need here, I just need a little more. Until then, I'll follow the most likely one."

'You've ill feelings about this one,' he stated.

"Yes. Thank you, Head."

He hummed (a grunt, really). "Thank you, Miss (L/N)."

And with that, you ended the call. You took a deep breath, allowing the millions of thoughts to flow through you mind and pass, then escape and rest elsewhere until called again.

You needed to get to your office. No taxis would be allowed near the area, so you settle for the next best thing. "Officer," you said to the man with white hair. "Would you mind allowing me a lift towards HQ?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "I don't mind. Any reason you can't get there yourself?" he asked as he escorted you to his police car.

"I came by taxi, which dropped me off a quarter block from here. They won't be allowed that near again, and I need to get back as soon as I can," you explained.

He opened the door for you, and you nodded as thanks. His driving was rushed, and he couldn't sit still. He was always changing the radio station or shifting in his seat, gripping the handle a little to hard, or unable to keep his eyes focused on the road. He's antsy; he wants to know everything about what's happening. He feels it too.

You tried for small talk. "You understand, too? This one is bad."

He forced a hum of agreement. "Yeah. In't---" he shook his head. "Isn't," he corrected, "something small. It's... I don't know what it is but I have a bad feeling about it."

From there, you weren't sure what else to say except a small 'yes' to reply. There wasn't anything else to talk about, and silence remained until HQ rolled into sight and he parked near the front.

"Is... it alright if I come in? It'd be nice to learn a little more about everything," Smoker said.

You didn't want to be rude, but you felt that the case was big, something that any officer couldn't just look in on. But then again, you knew of him. Smoker had been working loyally for even longer than you, not to mention he seemed like a genuine person. No more than a gut feeling, but you practically worked off those.

"Fine. But when if I find something and I tell you to go or stay out, do so."