Why Fireflies Flash

Long Nights

Anabeth sighs to herself. The letter is half crumpled in her hand as she takes a seat on the stoop of the club's back door. The body had already been taken to St. Bart's and all the witness interviewed all that was left was to wait for the autopsy and inevitably the next body. Of course there's evidence here, with this crime, but none of it would be worth a damn until the next victim.

It wasn't six minutes later that a wet nose pressed against her thigh. She looks down the Siberian Husky and smiles.

"What are you doing here girl?" she asks as she scratches the dog's head.

"I found her, wandering the streets, alone and lost."

Quinn looked up in to blue eyes so similar to hers. "Lies. Lizzy is never lost, are you girl?"

Lizzy, or more commonly Blizzard, presses her nose to her companions thigh in assent.

"So, back to work so soon?"

Alfie shrugs. "Eh, Chris'll understand. My baby sister needs me."

Anabeth shook her head. "I do not need you. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

The brother glances around the alley. "Certainly seems like it."

Quinn clears her throat and glares at him. "Is there a team coming to examine the scene?"

Alfie shook his mess of ginger curls. "No. I believe everything that's worth examining has already been. But of course, you could always have you detective friend come over."

"He is on his way."

Alfie bends down and pushes her hair behind her ear and smiles as he straightens up.

"What was that?"

Alfie smirks. "Just making sure you haven't turned completely Vulcan on us. There's hope for you yet."

"Gee, thanks."

Anabeth paces the alley as Hannah reads aloud the letter, her thigh high purple suede stiletto boots clicking on the dirty ground.

"Harley, will you stop that?" Hannah asks suddenly. "It's giving me whiplash."

"This sick bastard has her, Wayne. And you want me to just stand here?" Quinn growls. "You know me better than that."

"And we've also been here for forty-five minutes," Alfie states irritated. "When is your little detective friend supposed to show up?"

Quinn gives him a glance. "You are just cranky from the cold."

"You're right, I am." He sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I don't understand, Ana, what's going on? You're never this discombobulated. You're always analytical, always together. What does this case have that others don't? You've been found out before so that's not it."

Anabeth's answer is cut off by the sharp vibrating of her phone. She starts to pace again as she pulls the message up.

Hello? Anybody there? Annie-belle?

Her face goes sour at the nickname. She really never did like it.

"So that's it?" Alfie asks. "It's Jim again? Fifteen years and you're still not over him?"

"Will you two stop making me older than I really am? It is fourteen years and yes, I am over him. I have been. And do not think I have forgotten I was not the only one hurt by his leaving me. I seem to remember you both on the couch scarfing down Ben & Jerry's whilst I got ready for yet another therapy session months after the fact."