adatrox.

      doubt never tastes right.  the girl chews it in lieu of lighting that cigarette, or offering reply,  tossing the brief feeling over her teeth as his words come between the both of them.  she could be wrong; it always lingers as possibility, but never once has it come to bite her, so she carries on, attention tipped up to him in a broad wash of skepticism.    ‘   it’s just what i know, holder                                       take it how you want.   ’  
      the things is, it’s always a mess.  every answer she can ever give is drawn through the mud, half a shape she doesn’t want to clear away. just trust me; it’s an echo, a feedback in every conversation, and nothing on this rainy morning has changed that.  so the girl shrugs, again, a slouch of deference to the ambiguity of it all.   ‘   no names, but i can ask, no trouble.  my guess is he was owing more than just cash, but i don’t have specifics yet.  gimme a day and i’ll have something worth it, yeah?   ’

_{it’s a  lead.    whether or not it pans out,   this is more than he had an hour ago.    this is something to follow up on before he starts feeling restless,   bored,   bogged down by leftover paperwork from the shitstorm that was the pied piper case.    (   he and linden were both exempt from joe mills’ trial,   which is a damn good thing ;   he wasn’t exactly  chomping at the bit  to commit perjury.   )}

_{he takes a last drag from his cigarette and discards it,   nods as he outsteps her to pull open the coffee shop door.}

_{trusts her,   mostly.    wouldn’t  listen  to her otherwise.}

_{‘     yeah,   yeah    —    gimme a call when you got somethin’.    just don’t ask the wrong questions,   you feel me ?    don’t stick your neck out too far.     ’}

_adatrox.

      the walk and talk is easy, a swing of motion that allows the girl’s attention wander, as is habit.  deft fingers find her pocket, extract the battered steel of a zippo and palm it for another rangy second of pause.   ‘   yeah, heard something about something there.   ’   which she did; as she always does.  no surprise rears, nothing so plain-faced as remorse or apology                                   results have been the driving force of this relationship, after all, leaving so little in the breadth of suspicion.  
      a squint colours her expression for a beat, aimed generously at the detective, and brushed away swiftly.   ‘   listen, i know some people were looking for him.  something about debt, or similar, i wasn’t read into that.  but i do know you’re first pass of tox-screens don’t usually catch arsenic, do they?   ’   voice drops at the end, belaying a question, as the gentle hum pulled through her words betrays certainty in moderation. 

_{heard something about something.    of course she did.   that’s always been the running theme,   and he hasn’t stopped to question it.    hasn’t looked a gift horse in the mouth,   essentially,   because good informants are hard to come by.       ‘     arsenic,   huh ?    ain’t that a little too on the nose ?     ’       but the preliminary tox screen  was  clean.    no drugs in the guy’s system whatsoever,   not even an aspirin.    he chews on that for a minute,   cutting a sidelong glance and conceding with a half - shrug,   half - nod.       ‘     okay    —    so,   homeboy over there was in the red.    maybe his janky ass couldn’t pay up or he came up short,   don’t matter.    who was lookin’ for him ?   you catch any names ?     ’}

_adatrox.

      hesitation is brief.  a cigarette gets plucked away deftly, pale fingers worrying at it for a moment, just inches from bow lips.  it’s all business here, technically, but there is a wash of softness in her expectations with him; cops like this are a rarity.  the weight of her gaze hooks upwards again before she goes to light anything, up to him, and it stays there.   ‘   so what’s the question then, holder.   ’

_{‘     alright,   business up front.    i feel that.     ’       fingers of one hand drum an off - rhythm beat against the side of his coffee cup,   gesturing back down the block with his cigarette    —    there’s a coffee shop just around the corner.       ‘     caught a body last night,   guy out near richmond’s waterfront.    no ID.    mid - thirties,   nice - ass threads but he looked like he ain’t showered in a damn  week.    smelled like it,   too.     ’       here it comes.    the  pièce de résistance.       ‘     coroner couldn’t peg cause of death.    ‘n i mean,   homeboy’s in good health,   like,   so good it’s makin’  me  look bad.    wasn’t a heart attack,   body had no signs of trauma.    what d’you think,   mamacita ?    act of god,   or what ?     ’}

_adatrox.

      it’s easier, the slow curl of pretense, than throwing up barbs just now                                too early, too tired.  so the girl hums out what might be agreement as hands find the pockets of her jacket, expression unreadable as ever.   ‘   buy me a coffee and you’ve got ten.   ’   

_{‘     sold.     ’       she’s not on the spd’s payroll ;   not officially.    informants get a shit deal,   which is probably why they’re few and far between,   but she’s not an  informant  either.    he draws a pack of cigarettes,   lights one and offers another.    linden got him into the habit of  sharing.       ‘     go on.    treat yo’self.     ’}

_adatrox.

      faded gaze stays on him, dark brow arched for two beats.  it’s easy to be a mirror of the half-here cadence, all slide and hum in the quiet; it’s in her nature too.    ‘   you need something from me, holder?   ’   it could bite, those words, but the tilt of her head softens them.   ‘                                 or are we just being social.   ’

_{‘     ain’t nothin’ wrong with a little  tête - à - tête  to start the day off right.     ’       lazy smile over the rim of his coffee cup,   a healthy blend of idle and baiting that speaks to the nature of their usual routine.       ‘     nah,   i’m just messin’ wit'cha    —    i need your  expertise.    you got a couple minutes ?     ’}

_adatrox.

      impetuousness settles in the curl of her lips.  it lives only briefly, followed in kind by the tide of a sigh, then the slow curl of admission as she throws the weight of her cool gaze back to him.   ‘   before you came around, i was ready to slow down.   ’
      _{.   body gold - oh wonder   .   @originalgrilla}

_{he’s still half - asleep,   voice a cottonmouth rasp,   smelling like this morning’s first cigarette and last night’s torrential rain.    waiting,   a little sluggish,   for caffeine to kick in.       ‘     —    don’t let me stop you from gettin’ your  feng shui  on,   li’l mama.    gotta make  time  for that shit,   y’ know ?    s’all good.     ’}