After parking my car in the reserved parking spot I had, I walk into the base, where there was different desks, and plenty of other detectives with their own cases. It was always busy, like buzzing bees in their hive. This place was never at rest, except for the couple times at night, during the graveyard shift. But even then everyone was up on their feet.

I sigh as I say good morning to a couple of other detectives, then set my badge, phone, and car keys on my desk. It was boring. Filled with documents, pictures, a computer, a phone, and a cup full of pens. No pictures. The only picture I had was the one with my little brother Sam and I, but that was kept in my wallet. I haven't seen Sam in months. Since our last major case. Sam is a lawyer in our town, Lawrence, Kansas. That's what he wanted to be. So whenever I needed a an attorney to defend my witnesses, I'd ask him to do the job. And wasn't he the finest whistle. He'd always win a case, no matter what. It was either those irresistible puppy eyes he gave, or the bitchiest face he made that truly took home the gold.

I walk up to chief's door and knock on it. Moments later, he'd tell me to come in. I sigh, opening the squeaky door, and fix my tie. Clearing my throat, I say, "That's the buzz?"

"You look nice." He looks up to me and gives me a sarcastic smile, which made his eyebrow jerk upward. "Ready for your date?"

" Yeah." I scoffed, liking my bottom lip. "I made reservations at the 'I Don't Give A Shit' diner." I reply, putting my hands in my pockets and giving him a annoyed look. He does nothing but laugh, and sip the coffee he bought.

"A'ight... A sixteen year old girl, by the name of Laura McClain was beat, slit from her throat, and stabbed multiple times to death at the Autistic Care Center here in Lawrence Kansas." Chief said, shuffling through the folder and handing me some photos. I scanned each one, how her throat looked like someone really cut into her, and the bruises she had on her neck. A sign of struggle. The holes her chest carried, and her innocent blood that painted the canvas of a bed. I was so disgusted. How could anyone do this, gruesome, malicious, things? It was sickening. I tossed the pictures back on his desk, feeling uncomfortable.

"Any suspects?" I managed to say. Chief shook his head, huffing frustratedly.

"Nope. No weapon, no prints, nothing. Were blanker than white paper, son. It's gonna be hard figuring out this case."

I groaned frustrated. "How about cameras? Those places should have those or something to keep those people in check."

"Boss of the palace said the camera in that room busted. That it may take a while to fix." Chief replied, looking up to me. "But rumor has it that it caught the whole thing before it decided to go Micheal Bay." I wiped my face with my right hand, feeling tired and annoyed. Most of my cases were simple, and easy to figure out. But this one? With no evidence might as well blindfold me in a dark room.

"Can I go down to the center and ask?" I said, rubbing my right temple.

"Be my guest. And make sure you take your new partner with you." He gestured at me, then looked down to his paperwork.

"But where is h—"

"Right here." A voice cut me off before I had time to finish my sentence. I turned to see a short man, with a thick black coat and both hands in its pockets. He had black hair, and eyes that shined hazel, each color fighting its way to be dominant. He carried a smug smile. "Nice to meet you Dean Winchester." The man added, his Scottish accent slurring his vowels.  He spoke softly, and low. Like if he was trying to flirt.

"Hello. You must be my date." I said sarcastically, not baring even a smile. He scoffed, lifting those eyes to cut straight through mine and right at my soul. "Why yes, I am. The name's Fergus McLeod. But you can call me Crowley."  He raised the corner of his mouth. I stood silent for a minute, making sure this was actually happening.

"Nice to have yah in." Chief cut in. "Welcome to the base. Winchester here will show you 'round if you need it."

"No thanks. I'm a quick learner, I'm sure I can figure things out all by myself. I'm a big boy."  Crowley replied. Every word that came out of his mouth sounded taunting. I wasn't sure if anything he said, was a joke, or legitimate.

"Okay then. Your partner has your case. Now scram." Chief responded. "Out of my office." Obedient, I walked out, Crowley following shortly after. Reuniting with my desk, I grab everything I dropped there earlier, and start heading toward the exit.

"Whoa! Hey! Where are you going?" Crowley spoke, trying to jog to catch up with me.

"To the crime scene. We need to ask questions to see if we have any clues or witnesses." I replied, not engaging contact.

"Can I at least know the case?  Besties don't keep secrets from each other now, do they?" He informed, leaning forward a bit to look at me. I stop and faced him.

"Look. We're not friends." I said coldly. He looked up to me with a spooked face. "I'm not your friend, and I'm most definitely not your 'Bestie'.  We're on a case, we're trying to solve it. That's it." I finished, shoving the folder into his arms and walking off. I didn't have time to mess around. Work's gotta get done and him with his joking little attitude isn't going to get us anywhere.

I hop into my car and close the door. As soon as I was about to start it, I see Crowley knock on my window. Sighing, and hoping not to regret it, I roll it down. "What do you want?" I asked, looking up to him with leave-me-alone eyes.

"I don't have a car." He replied, not showing any tone of embarrassment or shyness. I scoffed, thinking he was kidding. But when I looked up to him again, his face expression didn't change.

"You're frickin' serious? How the hell did you get here?" I asked, unbelievably.

"I walked. It was only a few blocks, so I thought, why not?" He replied, tilting his head a bit as he shrugged. I stared at him. Questioning every question possible to see if this guy was for real. "Well squirrel, going to let me in, or not?" I sighed. I obviously had no choice. We had to get to the center. Even if I had to drive with him there.

"Get in." I mumbled, gripping firmly on the steering wheel. He smiled, and walked around, plopping himself down on the seat beside me. He took a deep breath and looked around.

"Well, isn't this just one, dashing car." He said, patting the dashboard respectfully.

"Yup. A nineteen sixty-seven Chevy." I informed.

"Impala?" He looked at me. I nodded. "Lovely. How did you become a possessor of a thing of beauty like this?"

"My father." I answered. "It was his, and he passed it on to me. It's really important."

"Ohh! Well, lucky you. My father gave me nothing but the gene of a small wanker."  He said, putting on his seatbelt. I gave him a weird look. When he turned back to me, he matched my expression. "What?"

"Uh... TMI dude." I said, staring the car. He laughed as he fixed his coat.

"Oh common now, that was nothing. You still haven't gotten to know me yet."

"I'm debating if I should..." I said, looking at the review mirror if any cars were behind me as I backed up.

"Perhaps you will. And our friendship can finally blossom?" He nudged my shoulder. I glanced at him and rolled my eyes. Replying with a whatever. He chuckled as I drove onto the road. "Besides, you didn't dress like that just to dis me, right?"

I sighed as his sarcasm was getting worse and worse. Any more and I wanted to flip the car over.

"First impression is important, like they say." I replied under my breath, focusing on the road. He nodded.

"Good job." I heard him say. I glanced at him, to see him staring out the window.

The hell did he mean by that?