Red

Insanity

The papers were peppered with red speckles of blood. Did Crane put up a fight? Who's blood is this? Maybe the killer's, a high possibility of being Crane's, could it be mine. My eyes flickered down to my wrists where the blood was flowing from.

It's mine.

"Rose?" I my head shot up from the papers I was holding. Mr. Deacon looked at me curiously, trying to read me.

"Sir?" I said, rubbing my temples slightly.

"You've been holding that report for ten minutes, just staring at it. Are you okay?" I bow my head at his words, I then shoved the report into his arms.

"Sorry... I uh, I just have some things on my mind." I said quietly, brushing past him to take my place back at my desk.

He sighs and places himself in front of my desk, desperately trying to keep my attention. I just stare blankly into his blue eyes, his face had concern written all over it.

"You can talk to me, it's okay, I'm here for you." He says, placing his hands on the other sides of mine. Leaning forward slightly, giving him a looming appearance. I kept his gaze and sighed, saying dejectedly, "Look. You don't have to pretend with me 'Kay? I'm a grown woman, I can deal with my own problems. And it's not like we're friends, I'm here to work, not have a therapy session with my boss."

I add a curt nod before I start organizing client appointments for the next week. Deacon eventually gives up and sulks off to his office.

As the time passes, which was only about two hours. I manage to get a month's worth of work done, and I force myself to take a break.

"Ms. Steele, there's a man, a Mr. Lupo?" The Aid called from the hallway.

"Ah, the Italian, yes please send him in." I said, rubbing my temples for the umpteenth time today.

A man with a broad build walks down the hallway, his head is turned talking to somebody on his right. Probably his assistant.

Hmm, maybe he's single.

"Ciao, signora Rose," an Italian accent pipes up.

"Hello, Mr— Oh it's you." I roll my eyes at Bigby. To his left stands Hansel, I scowled at him, "What are you doing here?"

He chortled, "Well for one, I'm here so you don't kill each other. And secondly, I need some entertainment." He smirks and winks at Bigby.

I grind my teeth together, my voice going taut, "And What are you doing here." I jab a finger at Bigby's chest.

"The murder of Ichabod Crane," He said simply. He continues, "I need to get a statement, can you come down to the Affairs office?"

I got off in fifteen minutes anyways, and the quicker I got this done the quicker I get Bigby out of my hair.

I clear my throat and say, "Yeah. Um, let me tie up a few loose ends up here first. I'll be right down."

Both men nod and make their way back down to the elevators. I collect my bag and coat, then I head to Deacon's office to tell him I needed to leave early. Next thing I know I walking around the parking lot looking for any signs of Bigby or Hansel.

A sharp whistle pierced my ears and my head snapped in the direction. I saw Bighy leaning up against his '70 Black GTO. I stood star struck for a moment before making my way towards him.

He nods at me to get in, which I happily oblige to.

I shut the door and watch him as he gets in, getting more uneasy by the moment. He starts the car, with a roar of the motor we start off to the Affairs building.