---

---

Caesar had quite enough of today. It was exhausting. He had looked at the footage many, many times, focusing on different parts, different people. He caught bits and pieces of Alicia's and Lorna's efforts in painfully ejecting the less savory members of the Fourth Estate from the area of the crime scene. (Those he went back to, not because of any potential evidence, but because it was damned good entertainment.) He observed the footage over and over and over. Nothing.

His short breaks to take a drink or get in some exercise were still spent thinking about the footage. It was taxing his brain, the sheer repetition of it. Caesar knew full well that his capacity to apply reason to it had reached its limits. Every detail was etched into his brain, thanks to the constant, self inflicted barrage of the images. Different eyes on this would be a blessing. Maybe that forensic tech would have some glimmer or recognition. Maybe his girls, whenever they got around to it, would have their own observations. But for right now, at this moment, he had to get his brain far away from the events of last night. Give his subconscious time to process.

Leftovers and TV. No thinking necessary. Maybe he could TiVo himself up some back episodes of that zombie series. The old man was partial to the grizzled redneck with the crossbow. Seemed like his kind of people, with the exception of the drugged-out, racist family.

So he relaxed on his enormous, comfy couch with some manner of chopped meat, fruit salad (with those little marshmallows and shaved coconut), and a couple of Engelatos. Caesar picked up the remote and pressed the power button, hoping to get to his show quickly and turn off his brain for an hour. Unfortunately, what he saw first was the local news.

It didn't matter what news program; if it was local, it was there, front and center. The story was slung across the networks like liquid shit from a pressurized air cannon. Another inhabitant of this tragic place was dead. One Caesar had met before. He'd seen this guy around, too - Lyle Somethingorother. Marlestone, the reporter said. Yeah, that was it. Lived in M'hija's building, too. Another suicide? Another coincidence? Like hell. The old man wasn't buying it. Too many obscure, seemingly unrelated events happen that are so eerily similar within close proximity to one another, and it fails to be coincidence.

He kept it on the news. Caesar slowly ate his meal, not particularly enjoying a bite of it. His footage from last night was still on his brain, fresh and clear, but now he was letting his subconscious process it, adding in this new information. To be on the safe side, he retrieved his pistol and got his working gear together. He wanted to make himself available at a moment's notice if need be. Next, he sent a quick text message to Alicia and Lorna, just in case they didn't get the memo.

LYLE MARLESTONE DEAD. DROWNING/SUICIDE? SOMETHING HAPPENING. CONSIDER AREA HOSTILE.

Caesar considered the possibility that, were these all random murders, what good would it possibly accomplish? Who would have anything to gain from a campaign of senseless killing in an area like this? Perhaps it was a real estate grab. This was definitely lowering the land value. With the intent of finding out if this location's history, or any publicly listed plans for the future were in play, Caesar returned to his computer.

---

---

Riley sighed softly as she heard Cecily picking up the phone, she was relived to hear that she was alright and nothing happened to her, aside from being shaken up. Riley looked at some of the people who were in the locker room they didn't pay much attention to her still which was surprisingly weird then she heard some talking on the other end Cecily had to go deal with another body. "Alright, see you back at the apartment and be careful." Riley said as she heard Cecily hanging up, Riley stood up and adjusted her shirt slightly she assumed that after the break in and being shot at Cecily would have to answer some questions to the cops. She wanted to go over to the Coroner's office and see her, but knew that Cecily would be busy and didn't want to disturb her.

Just as Riley had left the gym she looked up at the tv screen that was showing the news and of course it was showing Boston Heights, though it wasn't about Danica actually it was about Lyle Marlestone. Though she didn't know him that well, she had bumped into him a few times outside of their apartments and made small conversation. "Well Boston Heights seems to be the death capital of the world." Riley said to herself, as she thought about finishing her workout.

Riley headed back to one of the treadmills that was facing the TV she continued to listen to the story it seemed like he died of drowning, but the case is still under investigation. When Riley finished her work out she had worked up a sweat already, and her legs were sore from all the running. Riley grabbed her things and pulled out her car keys, and decided to head back to her apartment she unlocked her car and got back in and pulled out of the parking lot.

At first, Mali thought she would be able to just walk back to her apartment undisturbed after that incident, and at first, it seemed like that would be the case. From the crowd darted a girl a couple years younger than Mali who was about 5'2" with red skin and redder hair. She ran ahead of Mali and stood directly in front of her, phone out, presumably still filming. Mali tried to walk around, but she stepped in tune, still blocking her. Mali tried to step in the other direction, but now there was a guy about 40 years old, 5'7" with a tall, black mohawk to make up for his short stature. She turned around, maybe to find another route to find another red-headed girl, this one much paler in skin tone and even shorter than the girl that first blocked her path. She was less than 5 feet tall, almost an entire foot shorter than Mali.

Really, if she really wanted to Mali could just shove these people aside and go about her day, but she was fatigued, still bruised from the day before and her mouth tasted strongly of copper. That was probably blood. Maybe, just maybe if she just humored them they would just go away on their own. Mali pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, turning around to face the red-skinned girl.

"Did he steal anything from you?" she asked, raising her phone up closer to Mali's face, prompting her to take a half step back from the camera. The girl question her moved the same half step forward, making her a bit more cramped than before if anything.

"No, I still have my stuff. At least, I should." Mali's hands darted to all her pockets and confirmed that yes, she did still have all her belongings.

"Do you know him then?" She asked, her arm extended almost completely straight, as if she was trying to get the phone camera as close as possible to Mali's face with her short arms and stature.

"Never seen him before in my life." Although Mali couldn't step away, she could lean back and get some distance from the Electric Eye. Nine inches difference in height isn't anything to sneeze at.

"Then why did he jump you?" she asked, the energy behind her questioning not diminishing in the slightest.

"He could just be a punk that thought he could mug me, but more likely is that he's trying to get payback or something."

"Payback for what?"

"Well yesterday while I was jogging I saw a kid getting beat in an alleyway by a couple of junkies, and I helped him out, but roughed up the druggies in the process. He's probably a friend of theirs if I'm right."

"Why?"

"Why? I don't know. Everyone else was just ignoring the whole thing and I felt like I should do something instead if not. Look, do you have anymore question? I have things to do." The girl in front of Mali lowered the camera fromdirectly in front of her face, which was taken as a signal that all questions were asked.

"Goodbye, and goodnight." Mali walked around the girl, at a much brisker pace than she normally would, all the while fighting the urge to continually check over her shoulder that she wasn't being followed.

---

"Listen, I just got the radio call that another body from Boston Heights is on its way to the Coroners Office, I am heading down there now. Meet me there." Greg said before promptly hanging up. Tank simply stared forward as he put his phone away. "Oh, capital." he replied to no one in particular in a mock aristocratic voice. He slid onto his bike, and headed straight over.

Tank saw Greg make it there just as he did, skidding his motorcycle to a complete stop right beside Greg's car. "Mornin' Sheriff. Reckon we got some evidence to rustle through?" he asked, giving off an impressive drawl as he spoke. He had no idea of Greg knew he was from the south. He tipped an invisible hat towards his fellow detective. Sliding off the bike as smooth as silk, he leaned on his ride.

Fortunately for him, because Greg didn't look in the mood, his tone became more professional the next he spoke. "Do we know anything about the body? Cause or time of death, assuming you spoke to anyone." he said, slipping his hands in his pockets and following Greg up to where they needed to go. He knew this wouldn't take too long. Even if it did, he'd explain it to Greg.

---

---

Moving into the house as he was invited inside, Jeremy glanced around. It'd been a while since he'd been there, and it certainly looked different on the inside. He figured that was mostly due to the fact that quite a bit was still scattered about. It didn't look like much if any cleaning had actually taken place, it was still all a shambles, papers, furnishings and odds and sods all over the place, no wonder she couldn't find what had been stolen. The fact that it wasn't noticeable what had been stolen is what got Jeremy, there was no way then in his mind that it was a normal criminal. Chances were it was their friends who'd been murdering people at Boston Heights, so he suspected, anyway.

Gazing back over to her as she explained her lack of sleep, Jeremy gave Noelle an apologetic smile. "I'll try not to be too much of a bother then, I just wanted to ask you a few things." He glanced about, heading into the living room with her. It was also a mess, but the couch was clear enough for the two of them to take a seat, at the very least he figured he'd make sure she was comfortable. "Robert told me he was going to come see you when I went over to Mexico, I hope you two patched things up." He smiled, he hated doing this, the woman was obviously vulnerable but if she'd been robbed by the people he thought, he needed to get back on their trail, and quickly.

"Did he... Happen to leave anything for you? Tell you where he was going?" He figured it best to get right to the point, he hadn't known Noelle especially closely, but he figured she wouldn't appreciate him beating around the bush to his visit. He wanted to help her, find out who had stolen from her and try and make sure she was safe, but even more-so he wanted to find Gerard, he owed it to the old bastard. He figured he may have already known the answer to the first part of his question, and he figured if Gerard had given him something, it wasn't going to be there any more. The bastards were ahead of him, god he hated it.

---

---

---

---

"My back-up's in Manchester, i'm stuck with you so stop being dead." He replied, partly muffled into his pillow as he lay there. He tried to get up again, and managed to move a few inches upward before ending up on his back again. It wasn't long before sleep gripped him again, his head tilted back and mouth open as he snored lightly, only to be awoken suddenly at the bedroom door opening. "I'm up." He uttered quickly and quietly, as if he'd been in trouble for sleeping past his alarm.

He set his eyes on the coffee and the plate, immediately shifting closer to the night stand with a smile. "God you're perfect." He said quietly, it was hard to tell if he was talking to Risa or the coffee as he took the cup, warming his hands on it as he took a long sip, not caring for the heat of the liquid as he let it run down his throat, letting out a satisfied sigh as he did so. Turning his gaze back up to her, he already felt better able to function as he listened to her words, raising an eyebrow.

"Is the rent really that bad?" He asked, trying to make a grim situation slightly less-so, unintentionally in the same manner the hack on the news had, then again - his joke was intentionally bad. Sipping his coffee again, he set it down on the bedside table and took hold of the plate, beginning to eat as he looked back up at her. "Maybe you should avoid watching the morning news, seems like depressing is the flavour of the month." He smiled toward her, they'd both moved to Justice for her work, and he didn't want her feeling responsible for bringing them to some horrible place. He doubted she would feel that way, but he wanted to make sure.

---

---

---

---

---

@Pundii - Noelle tells Jeremy she had spoken to her father and he seemed to be engrossed in something but he wouldn't tell her anything that she can currently remember, granted she is pretty shook up right now, so that may just be a temporary lapse of memory. She sits down, looking frazzled and says the only thing she can remember her father telling her is that she needs to be careful. She didn't think anything about it until she got home last night and saw the place had been ransacked. She says you are welcome to look around the place if you want, maybe you will see something she hasn't yet.

@Dragoknighte - Seems you get a little bit of a break, they finally back off from their questions. Thing is though, they aren't entirely satisfied with how you answered so they are following you. If Mali looks over her shoulder she will see at least two of the people that were bugging her still in the crowd, they are trying to blend in but they really suck at it.

@Nallore - You get the hell out of dodge and away from the gym, several people looking at you but they aren't saying anything. Good thing you left, your face got plastered on the news about five minutes after you left, it could have got dicey after that. On the way home you get stuck in traffic. It is gridlock and you aren't going anywhere for a while. You are boxed in on all sides; left, right, front, back. Get comfortable, you are going to be stuck here until further notice.

@Sigil - Caesar starts digging and is finding out some interesting things. You find the name of owner of Boston Heights; John Teagan. The man seems to not only own the three buildings that are Boston Heights but the newly renovated building across the street and the one that Danica "fell" from the night before. Caesar is able to keep following the trail to a one front company after another; each larger than the next. Yet when he reaches Gretchen Mortgage LLC the trail goes cold. Last thing Caesar is able to find out is about a Storage Unit for G.M. out in the Dock area of town.

---

---

---

Gregory looks over at Tank as if he had lost his every loving damn mind before shoving the files over to him. "We have a triple suicide," he says as he waits for Tank to take the files. Rubbing the back of his neck as the two head through the parking lot, grumbling to himself as he sees the paramedics leaving the building through the back entrance.

"Started off with the girl six months, then Miss Graves, now we have a third," he adds as they step into the building and over to Cecily as she was finishing up checking her phone, nodding to her slightly before pointing at the body bag on the stretcher. "And now Marleston here."

Shaking his head he paced around a bit before looking at the two of them. "Thing is though, this just got a lot more complicated. I don't know where Marleston ties into this other than living in the same damn building you two do; which is creepy enough. You two might want to find a new place to live. What really is throwing me off is this... Miss Glencross and Miss Graves... They were sisters. Half sisters but sisters."

Leaning back against one of the desks he crossed his arms over his chest as he pondered the ramifications of all of this and remembering the tone in the girls fathers voice when he had spoken to him on the phone earlier. Staring at the floor blankly for a moment before kicking at a piece of dirt on the ground that had been tracked in he looked over towards Cecily. "And from what I hear you had a little bit of trouble in here earlier with a break in? Can you walk me through what happened?"

---

---

---

Risa smirked as she sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Lucas. "All that sweet talk to your coffee is why you never need sugar in it," she said with a bit of playfulness in her voice as she reached over and ran her finger along the line of his arm. At his bad, really bad, joke she rolled her eyes and flopped back a bit, her head resting on his thighs as she looked up at him.

"Yeah, tell me about it," she grumbled under her breath before shaking her head a bit and glancing over to him. Sitting up she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek as he ate. "Listen, fill that bottomless pit of yours and get dressed. I need to head over to the U.N. and get my paperwork straightened out it seems. You know the town better than I do," she said before standing up and heading over to the bedroom door.

Stopping she placed her hand on the door frame and looked back to him over her shoulder. "I'll get the kitchen cleaned up while you eat and get ready. Just bring your dishes out when you are done," she added before wandering down the hall and back into the kitchen.

Sighing she turned off the TV, she didn't want to see anymore news about what or was not going on in town right then. All she wanted to do, what she had hoped to do, was get settled in and catch up after being apart from her boyfriend for a long while. Seemed that wasn't going to happen, at least not right then. Maybe this evening they could find a quiet little place to grab dinner; that or a dance hall and she could subject Lucas to a whole bunch of American wankers for grins and giggles. The thought made a smirk crawl across her lips as she giggled to herself.

---

---

That was interesting indeed. Not so much that one man, John Tegan, owned so much real estate in the area (though it was worth noting), but that he felt the need to bury it under numerous layers of corporate rigmarole, as if he were hiding something. Now, that something could be a simple repositioning of holdings into a more favorable tax slot, as fits the custom of moneyed individuals, or it could be something more sinister.

The last piece of the puzzle Caesar could uncover before losing the digital trail was the name of another shell company, Gretchen Mortgage LLC, and a single other holding of note: Storage, Dockside. Why would that be accessible to the public, yet buried in a manner to make it cumbersome to locate? Why bother putting it out there in the first place? And what connection would this mystery storage unit have with the five buildings in this area? Well, only one way to find out.

A glance to the clock on the wall gave the older man a jolt of surprise. It had been just a handful of hours since he'd started his investigation into his video and the real estate. It had felt like so much longer. Perhaps this is what happens sometimes when one woke up early and threw themselves into a project, despite his experiences in the matter to the contrary. Plenty of daylight left with which to check out this new information with his own two eyes. Not being familiar with the docks of this particular city, Caesar had to fall back on his knowledge of other locales and their waterfront districts. People go there to die, at least at nighttime.

Short form: He wasn't going to go snooping around unless he had an excellent idea of the lay of the land. It would be some time before his girls got back from work, he assumed the same of the forensic technician. Besides, he hadn't seen much of the city as of yet, aside from his company's contract venues and a couple of watering holes. Maybe a touristy section or two. There was an applicable segment of time to investigate and return. Caesar scribbled down the name of the building's owner, the shell company, and the address of the storage unit on postit notes and attached them along the top of his laptop's monitor. He took a few minutes to open up a secure window, punch the address into the search bar, and get a good look at the overhead and street views of the location he was about to visit.

Within twenty minutes, Caesar was in his standard working gear and sitting atop a glorious street machine, his Harley Scorpion Reverse Trike. It was unapologetically parked on his patio, below street level. The engine roared to life, quickly quieting to a low idle. The grizzled Mexican settled his helmet over his luxurious hair and spurred his machine up the steps and onto street level, putting distance between himself and his apartment.

---

---

---

---

Cecily glanced up, seeing the two detectives enter. She wasn't usually one to be comforted by men with guns entering, it normally had the opposite effect, but it calmed her today. They approached the bodybag on the gurney, and Cecily remained back, raising an eyebrow slightly in confusion.

Perhaps this is why unions existed--to ensure that someone would care when forensic techs were shot at. It wasn't like it was listed in her job description "will be shot at by psychotic blondes; no hazardous duty pay included." The entire point was that the detectives would get shot at, rather than the geeks back in the lab. They belonged to different worlds, worlds that were only supposed to mix when the detectives came for the lab results and then took all the credit for solving the murder.

Detective Gregory started to pace, looking back at Cecily and Tank from time to time. Cecily awkwardly brushed her hair back, wondering why on earth he was looking at them like aliens. Beyond the obvious, of course--the fact that a homicidal killer seemed to be targeting everyone in the apartment block.

"Thing is though, this just got a lot more complicated. I don't know where Marleston ties into this other than living in the same damn building you two do; which is creepy enough. You two might want to find a new place to live. What really is throwing me off is this... Miss Glencross and Miss Graves... They were sisters. Half sisters but sisters."

Cecily raised her eyebrow again, glancing back down at the body. "I can't afford to live anywhere else with the salary you pay me," she chuckled a bit, tucking her hair behind her ear. She remembered the bullet whizzing by her head, and glanced behind her for a moment, almost expecting another one to have appeared in the wall behind her.

"The common factor is that they all live in Boston Heights, no?" Cecily murmured, as the detective leaned against the desk, his arms crossed. "I'm not saying it's insignificant that Graves and Glencross were related but...If the relation was the primary motive behind the killings, then the father should be dead, rather than Marlestone."

Pausing, Cecily mumbled a bit of an apology. The detectives likely didn't want her own opinions to influence their points of view, but to her, it made sense that it was the building location that mattered, rather than the relations. She herself had just been shot at hours ago, and the building was filled with security experts and others who knew how to kill someone with their pinky finger. Briefly, after the detective had informed them that Danica and Peyton were related, she wondered if Lyle could have been a brother as well.

"If my secret half-sister killed herself, I'd probably want answers," Cecily pondered. "Maybe Lyle, for some reason, was looking for those same answers."

"And from what I hear you had a little bit of trouble in here earlier with a break in? Can you walk me through what happened?"

Cecily nodded. "Yes, it was nearly a murder," she joked a bit with a smile. "I came in to work this morning to upload some files for the forensic artist--Wallace never understands the need to preserve a crime scene, always goes straight into ripping it apart, the git...Anyways, I thought I heard Wallace in his office, so I popped on over, and was shot at and slammed to the ground by some blonde woman. Something was definitely taken but I doubt Wallace bothered to log anything in."

---

---

Riley started to drive further down, and started to notice that the traffic was starting to get worse and worse until she was boxed in with cars, she closed her eyes and groaned loudly as she lightly banged her head on the wheel. She remembered living out in LA for awhile and traffic was horrible. Riley would then reach up and grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the sun visor and put them on. She would then lean back in the driver's seat and took out her phone because why not?

Riley jumped suddenly when she heard a dog barking, and turned to look at the car next to hers which was a Doberman she sighed as she watched the dog spazing and just started to mimic the dog's barking and then gave the dog the finger. "Well this is going to be a whole lot of fun.." Riley said with a sigh as she turned up the radio and started to listen to a news channel to find any interesting stories.

---

---

---

Her eyes scanned through the file and she could feel her brow knitting closer and closer together. Black Sunday? What the hell was that? She read through the information and wondered who wanted this destroyed. Pulling out her cellphone, Lana grabbed some snapshots of the file and everything it contained. She then grabbed the pages from the file and placed them into her bag for now. There was no way she was destroying them. However, she had to destroy something in case someone came looking. She grabbed a couple of other files, ones that covered shoplifting clients that Lyle had had in the past, slipped them into the folder for the real files and carried them into the common area. She threw them onto the hearth of the fire place and then lit up a match before throwing it on top of the papers. She pulled the real files out of her bag and slipped them into the other folder before shoving them back into her bag.

She watched as the flames licked at the paper, blackening where they touched before finally breaking through and lighting the pages aflame. Her eyes did not leave the fire until she was content that they were burning hot enough and were not about to set the apartment on fire. Whoever it was that had called her would probably need some evidence to show that the files were destroyed so this would hopefully do.

As the flames began to die down, their fuel running out, Lana made her way into her bedroom. She sorted herself out and grabbed what she might need before leaving her room, locking it up tightly, and then leaving the apartment. She jogged down the stairs out to the front of the building and ran across the street before jumping on her motorcycle and making her way down to the local watering hole for those of a disreputable sort. She knew she'd seen at least one face from the Heights frequenting there and she figured she could ask him for some help in this weird situation she found herself in.

She made good time but hit traffic quite close to the bar so took a short cut down an alley where she almost ran over a ginger haired cat that hissed and clawed towards her bike as she sped past. Damn cat was lucky that she had good reflexes or it would have been roadkill. She pulled up in front of the bar and parked up. Grabbing some change from her pocket, she paid for a parking ticket and stuck it to her bike front before heading inside the establishment.

"Hey Bobby! You seen the cowboy today?" Lana sashayed her way to the bar and rested her forearms on it, leaning up on her tip toes and pressing her chest together between her arms.

"N-naw, Miss Lana. He ain't been in here today. Ya needing him?" The bushy faced man raised a brow at her.

"Yeah actually. Need to get in touch. Business opportunity. You have his number?"

"'Course, he's a regular ain't he? But what's in it for me?" He waggled his hairy eyebrows at Lana and chortled.

"C'mere you." She rolled her eyes and leaned in closer to Bobby, his face coming in close to hers. She pecked his cheek and grinned as she dropped back. "Now where's my number?"

Laughing away happily to himself, Bobby reached under the bar and pulled out his address book. He slipped a card from the back of it and slid it over to Lana. She gave him a broad smile and a wink before pushing herself off of the bar and sliding the card towards herself and off the edge of the bar. She whipped out her cell and punched the number in, saving it under the "Golden Cowboy". She hit the call button as she walked out of the bar and listened to the ringing in her ear before the telltale click sounded as he answered. The doors swung shut behind her as the traffic rang out in front of her.

"Hey Cowboy? It's the Russian Fury. I need your help."

"Well hey there ya Russian Dollface," he said as leaned back in his chair, and grinned towards Clemins as he covered up the phone speaker for a moment. "Just a minute boss, that Russian hottie I was tellin' ya about. Damn I'm on a roll today," he remarked coldly before removing his hand. "What can ol' Lawson be doing for ya?" he asked her as he tapped his cards on the edge of the table.

Lana played with the ends of her hair as she spoke in a low voice. "Not something I want to discuss over the phone. Lets meet up. When are you free?"

Lawson perked a brow and gave his boss a knowing look and a little bit of a wink. "Go on man, get you some tail," Clemins said with a laugh. Lawson grinned coldly and nodded as he rose from his chair and flipped his cards over, showing a royal flush and pocketing the winnings before moving towards the door. "For ya darlin', right now. Meet me at pier 23," he said smoothly as he stepped out the door and headed to his truck.

"You're a doll. See you there." She hung up the call and walked over to her bike, throwing her leg over the body and getting herself ready to ride down to Pier 23.

---

---

---

Grinning like a fool and laughing like an idiot, Lorna shook her head and rolled her eyes at Alicia's quip about energy drinks. She made it sound like Lorna drank them which wasn't true. Lorna didn't like putting caffeine in her body, she felt like it weakened her and made her shake once she stopped using it. The stuff eventually just made her feel sick even at the mere thought of the smell it gives off. She shuddered and grabbed her keys as she pushed off from the counter and followed Alicia out of the apartment. She locked the place up and jogged up the stairs after her sister from another mister. She only stopped in her tracks when she noticed Lawson and gave him a quick wave in greeting.

Before she could make it to Alicia's car, however, Lawson had stopped her and started going on about a roller derby and going to go see it tonight. Together. To drink beer. Together. What? She didn't think she'd made that good of an impression on him and she felt herself frowning slightly in confusion. She opened her mouth to answer but his phone went off and his attitude changed quickly. He then handed her his card and she literally couldn't do anything but blink as he darted off and jumped into his truck, driving off at some speed. She looked over her shoulder at Alicia and then down to the card in her hand and wordlessly walked over to the passenger side of Alicia's car. She slid in, still staring at the card in her hand and slowly glanced up to look at Alicia. Her face was one of confusion and bewilderment. "Did that really just fucking happen?" She held the card up and shrugged her shoulders, unsure what to do.

---

---

---

Listening intently to Noelle as she spoke, Jeremy swore internally as Noelle claimed what Jeremy thought she would - Robert hadn't told her anything. He was always a difficult bastard to follow. Moving to stand as she finished speaking, he gave her a nod. "Thanks, i'll try not to be too much of a bother. Can I get you anything while i'm here? Cup of coffee?" He chuckled in a somewhat awkward manner, waiting for any confirmation that she was fine before he moved off.

He moved upstairs first, looking around for the study. As he got inside, he sighed as he glanced about. Much as he expected, things were everywhere, paper, turned over furniture, pictures pulled off the walls and all matter of mess. He started simply, re-arranging the papers and folders thrown everywhere, glancing over them as he did so for anything of note. He figured he'd be there for a while, there was a lot of mess, and Jeremy figured he needed to be thorough. There were a few usual codes he and Robert had used in the past, ones he hoped he might've left for him, but he wasn't sure.

He looked over every little bit of the room, looking under the furniture, under the rugs, even feeling around for secret switches - he wouldn't have put that past Gerard, after all it wouldn't have been the first time he used them. Part of him figured Noelle might have been uncomfortable with how thorough he was being, but she'd known him for at least a few months before he went to prison, and she knew her father, the two were quite alike in that regard.

---

---

---

---

Chuckling, he watched as she lay back, feeling her head rest back onto his thigh as he continued to work his way through the food rather quickly. Letting his own lips brush against her cheek in reply to her kiss as he watched her stand, he made an exaggerated groan. "I just have to drive you everywhere, don't I?" He smirked as he watched her turn back toward him, setting his plate down for a moment to pick up the coffee again and take a long sip.

He didn't stick in bed too long, finishing off his breakfast as he set it aside, moving to get dressed. Sliding his glasses onto his face, Lucas moved to retrieve his dishes and moved out of the bedroom, heading down the hall and into the kitchen to hear Risa giggling, spotting the look on her face. "Why do I feel like whatever you're thinking about is bad for me?" He smiled as he approached her, setting his free hand on the small of her back as he leaned over to plant another gentle kiss on her cheek, setting his dishes in the sink carefully.

"How'd you like to go out for dinner tonight?" He asked, unknowingly echoing her own thoughts. "There's this place near the school i've been eyeing for a while now, apparently they do a hell of a couple's deal." He shrugged as he moved to lean against the counter dividing the kitchen and the living room, eyes never leaving her.

Well shit. The darker of the red heads and the guy with the mohawk were following her, and trying to hide it really badly. Mali turned back to face forward and pretended like she didn't see them. If they knew she was onto them, it would probably only encourage them. The idea to try using public transit to throw them off briefly crossed her mind, and while it wasn't a bad idea per se, if they managed to follow her on one, she'd be stuck with them in a metal tube for longer than she would want to be (at all).

The good part about knowing you're being trailed is that you know where you need to go, but they didn't. Mali pulled out her phone and checked the battery level. 64%. She made a mental note to charge it overnight more often rather than forgetting about it entirely. But for her purposes (finding her way back home either by bus, walking, or whatever), it would suffice. From there, Mali would turn corners mostly at random and as often as possible. After about 20 minutes she would pull out her phone again, pulling up her internet browser, only to be greeted by the homepage filled with news on how somebody else who lived at Boston Heights had just been found dead in a fountain by the park. Not only that, it was also the guy who lived right above her with that Russian chick.

She didn't really know how she should react. After all, she didn't really know the guy, but two deaths within essentially half a day of each other was certainly cause for concern even if they turned out to be completely unrelated from one another. She did make another mental note to not go around that park for a week or ten. These apartments had to have some sort of voodoo curse placed on the or something.

Bringing her mind back to the task at hand, Mali looked backwards to make sure she still wasn't being followed. So far they had been some persistent bastards, but she didn't think that they would be persistent enough to follow her for longer than a quarter of an hour. Meanwhile on her phone she pulled up bus routes to see if there was a stop nearby and what the routes/schedule were, and if she would be able to make it back to the apartments that way. Even if it would take longer than just walking back, at this point Mali just wanted to sit down and take a break at this point.

---

"We have a triple suicide," Greg told him, shoving the files into Tank's arms. "Well that's not something you hear about everyday." Tank agreed, shifting through the papers and listening to Greg as they walked. He had a toothpick in his mouth as usual, and a very relaxed manner about him. He nodded to Cecily in greeting, his mind still half on the paper in front of his eyes and Greg's explanation.

"Thing is though, this just got a lot more complicated. I don't know where Marleston ties into this other than living in the same damn building you two do; which is creepy enough. You two might want to find a new place to live. What really is throwing me off is this... Miss Glencross and Miss Graves... They were sisters. Half sisters but sisters." "I can't afford to live anywhere else with the salary you pay me," she chuckled a bit, tucking her hair behind her ear. Tank didn't look up, but he grinned at that. "Doesn't bother me. Lil danger makes life worth living." he said.

Tank finally set the papers down and crossed his arms, listening to Cecily's input that she seemed to have regretted saying a moment later. He met her eyes and nodded, letting her know he wasn't going to look down on her. "I agree. Lyle might have been killed because he knew too much or was asking all the right questions. Buuut what questions would he be asking, and would anyone else know of them?" The detective glanced at Greg, and then back at Cecily. He decided he'd ask around later.

"And from what I hear you had a little bit of trouble in here earlier with a break in? Can you walk me through what happened?"

Cecily nodded. "Yes, it was nearly a murder," she joked a bit with a smile. "I came in to work this morning to upload some files for the forensic artist--Wallace never understands the need to preserve a crime scene, always goes straight into ripping it apart, the git...Anyways, I thought I heard Wallace in his office, so I popped on over, and was shot at and slammed to the ground by some blonde woman. Something was definitely taken but I doubt Wallace bothered to log anything in."

Tank blinked, and let out a chuckle while he tongued the butt end of his toothpick. Her matter of fact way of explaining nearly being killed was pretty entertaining. "Did you get any kind of good look at her face? Could you identify her if you saw her again, or were you against the ground before you knew it?" Tank felt like he was way too relaxed right now to be here. His mind was sharp, but not as crisp as it usually was.

---

---

---

---

---

This little bit of news hit the airways quickly and while not many are putting a lot of stock into it, even the regular news stations are picking up on it. Granted most all of your regular news sources are either claiming this is just a rumor and there is no proof or adding in that perhaps Danica just couldn't take the fact that her sister had committed suicide and decided to follow suit. Either way, it is hitting the news stations and airways quickly. If you are in front of a TV or listening to your radio it is getting plastered coverage along with repeated coverage of Lyle Marlestone's death.


@DizzyIsabella @Xtreme - The TV is on at the doctors office and the above story keeps repeating itself between breaking through the morning shows and cartoons. Even a few images from all three crime scenes have been leaked and are flooding the images that the news stations are throwing on the screen.

@Sigil @Charnobylisk @Lady Amalthea - Welcome to the Docks, you three are all headed to the same place. Well not really but there isn't a lot of parking along the docks and at the pier that isn't behind chain link fences. Between the radio being flooded in on the stories of the recently and not so recently deceased, you three get there pretty close to the same time. Lawson arrives first, followed by Caesar, and Lana you are pulling up last. So, let us begin - An Ex-Marine, A Russian Drug Dealer, And a Mexican Legend all walk into a parking lot near Pier 23 - Now, what's the joke?

@Dragoknighte @Nallore - Look out the window and thanks to parking lot traffic you can see each other. In your car, Riley is hearing the story over and over again between songs. On the bus, Mali is hearing the same story from a kid streaming the same radio station through their pill speaker and annoying the hell out of the rest of the patrons on the bus who really just want to deal with their own stuff than listen to some one else's stuff.

@Pundii - Noelle kind of looked over to you through her daze and shakes her a head a little. "Coffee? Oh, what type of a hostess am I, how about I make some?" she said before standing up and walking into the kitchen. You hear pots and pans being kicked aside since they are covering the floor. The TV in the kitchen gets turned on and with as quiet as it is in the house it is easy to pick out the story about Danica, Peyton, and Lyle. It is about this time you pick up a picture on the floor, it is one of two young women - It's Peyton and Danica when they were younger. It had slipped out of a manilla envelope. Only other thing inside is a sheet of paper on it with doodles of cubes. Some are just hollow, others solid, different shapes and sizes.

@Scallop - You are just now moving in. No sign of your roommate currently but with the news blaring on about more deaths for Boston Heights and the crime scene tape around where Danica's body fell it seems you picked one heck of a time to move in. The building seems pretty dead right now, most are out. There are a few cops though, trading out watch for Danica's front door for now. A couple of people are pulling out and heading on their way.

---

---

---

Roy cocked a brow over towards Cecily and chuckled. "Hey, don't be blaming your salary on me. I'm not the one that sets the pay scale. Want to complain, contact your local congressman," he said with a bit of a smirk and shrugged. If he had any control over the rate of pay for the various departments he surely would be handing out raises, starting with himself first. Glancing over towards Tank he nodded a bit. "Guess we will need to take a ride over to his place and start digging around, maybe we can find something," he said before stepping around a bit. Little did he know that some one had already been to the man's apartment and cleared out at least one file from the place before anyone else could get there.

Hearing what Cecily said about the person that broke in, Roy rubbed his face and grumbled under his breath. "Okay Tank, I'll check out the office, Cecily you go over what you remember from last night; what evidence you remember getting bagged and tagged. See if you can figure out what is missing," he said before taking out his phone and placing a call. Trying to get a hold of Wallace but it went straight to voice mail. Shaking his head he headed down the hall and slipped on a pair of latex gloves before getting the door opened and stepping inside the mans office.

There was a copy of the logged list of evidence on Wallace's desk, everything was on the log minus two things; Danica's phone and the gun. Granted Gregory didn't know what was in the office and what wasn't. Cecily would be able to find everything that was logged and not logged, including Danica's phone, minus one thing.... The gun was missing.

---

---

---

Risa refused to answer that question, the only time she giggled was when she was coming up with ways to get at Lucas, something he was very aware of. Granted if she told him what she had in mind, that would just spoil any shenanigans she had up her sleeve. She kept cleaning up until everything was put away before slipping her bag over her shoulder and stepping over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Sounds perfect," she said softly before she ducked under his arm and grabbed his keys from the counter. Tossing them over to him as she headed towards the door.

She wanted to go ahead and get things over with at the U.N. in hopes of a little peace and quiet until Monday. Her and Lucas had not had anytime to really catch up yet; she had been far too exhausted yesterday. Stepping out of the door she waited for him to lock up before heading out and onto the streets. Placing her sunglasses on she glanced around. Things seemed calm enough but she doubted it would remain that way for long. There was still crime scene tape up around where Danica's body had hit the night before and the stained blood on the concrete made her cringe inwardly. No one should have to die like that.

Pulling out her phone as it rang she answered it, it snapping her out of the thoughts. "Hello? Oh," Risa began before she started speaking in Finnish as she headed over to the car and waited for Lucas to unlock her side so that she could climb in. "Rakastan sinua äiti," she said before hanging up the phone and dropping her phone back into her purse. Clicking her seat belt into place she looked over towards Lucas, "was just home making sure I got in okay. Apparently a friend of the families suggested we hit the Diamond District if we want to browse around a little," she said before leaning back in her seat and relaxing a bit. Traffic seemed heavy but as long as she got to the U.N. by nightfall she wasn't going to worry.

---

---

---

Lawson climbed into his truck once he hung up the phone and started the old thing up, his fingers curling around the steering wheel as he gave a curt nod towards the man watching the door for his boss. Throwing the gear into reverse he pulled out and then placed it into drive before making the drive over to the pier where he said that he would meet Lana at. Thankfully for him it wasn't but a few minutes, he probably could have walked if he wanted to but out in this part of town it was safer to be behind glass and steel instead of just air. Granted it probably wouldn't stop a bullet if one was fired but hell, it would slow it down at least a little and if anything, made the man less of a target. Something he was keen on not becoming after his years over seas.

Pulling up to the parking lot that was open for piers twenty through twenty-nine, he parked. Pulling out his colt 45, he checked the ammo before slipping it into its holster at his back and throwing on his sport coat over it. Stepping out of the truck he placed his keys in his pocket after locking up and settled his Stetson on his head, giving the rim a long run of his finger before glancing around. He didn't see Lana yet or any sign of her. Figuring he had arrived first he crossed his arms over his cheat and leaned back against the door of his truck while he waited.

He took the free moment to think about what all had happened the night before and what he had just heard on the radio on his way over there. Was a bit of information he wasn't sure was true or not, but it made him curious. If Danica was Peytons sister, why did she hide it? Or why did she even move out there. Pulling out his phone as he waited for Lana to arrive he decided to let his curiosity get the better of him and sent a quick text message to an old friend of his; one of the few people on the planet he actually trusted. He just hoped by contacting this person he wouldn't also be putting his neck on the line. He liked his neck.

---

---

Alicia looked over towards Lorna and smirked a bit as she rested her arms over the hood of her car, having watched the exchange between the two. Slipping into the car she chuckled a bit as she turned the key and the engine roared to life. "Well, looks like a rodeo might be in your future," she chuckled as she pulled out of the parking space, glancing over towards Risa and Lucas as they came out of the building before turning her attention to the street in front of her. Last thing she wanted to do on the way to a new job was run over some idiot that was paying more attention to their phone than what was in front of them.

The radio was one and the story broke about Lyle as well as Danica's tie to Peyton. Alicia grumbled a bit under her breath as the new people went on and one about it between every song that came over. Didn't matter what station she flipped over to, it was the same thing. Someone's personal take on what was going on. Even one guy blaming the water supply on the rash of suicides as of late. Saying it was the fluoride. Alicia had finally had enough and turned the radio off.

"Always some conspiracy theorist out there that wants to take a bad situation and twist it into something even worse," she hissed from between her clenched teeth before letting out a bit of a huff and clearing her head. They had a job to do and the last thing she needed was to be distracted by dead people. This wasn't The Sign. Pulling up to the gate of the complex she stopped for the guard and handed over hers and Lorna's ID's so they could get checked in. As the gate rose and their ID's were handed back Alicia threw the car into park and got out.

"Yeah, you're fired," Alicia quickly said to the guard. He stood looking dumbfounded.

"What? Why? I checked your id!" he snapped.

"Yeah, but you didn't check the trunk. For all you know I have the clown cast from the Circus in there and they have tnt strapped to their chest," she said as she yanked the mans badge off his chest. "Lorna, mind giving the fucker in the booth a little talk since he will have to take over for this one fully until we get more people up here," she said as she took the mans weapon as well in her palm.

America. How long had this place existed? How long had this land of opportunity and glory existed? But how long had this place been filled with such juicy and rotten stories! These were the thoughts Felix had always thought about the country many detested but many also liked. Who cared about the country? What he cared about was the stories that lay within. The gang rivalries, the stories of lovers intertwined in some sort of tragic adventure that ends in a truly dramatic twist. Exploring these real life goings on had always appealed to Felix.

And that appeal had reached a peak when he had heard about the death of Peyton Glencross. It was labelled a suicide, and from what he had heard around various forums and links he had in America, it was a very suspicious suicide. What better timing! The current writers block he was facing was needing an end, inspiration was required. And in swoops this little treasure of Peyton's suicide. What better inspiration than a seemingly suspicious suicide. He'd found himself drawn to this. Like a moth to a lamp.

Everything was in order. He'd arrived at the airport, come out of the private plane his father's friend had let him use and took his belongings throwing them in the back of the movers truck. Before long he was at the block, jumping from the vehicle and admiring it with a grin. During the ride he'd heard stories. Oh such wonderful stories. Another suicide, closely tied to that of Peyton, a suicide, they were sisters. These thoughts raced through his mind as he walked to the apartment he had been given, taking everything with him.

On his last trip from the moving truck to the apartment he let out a giddy giggle, spreading his arms out in glee before, letting out a loud chuckle before making his way to his new apartment, placing his stuff carefully around the place, admiring the belongings of his new room mate laying around. He never had a room mate and perhaps it would also be a good inspiration for what he was calling "American Poison". An interesting title he was sure would catch on.

He smiled and went back downstairs, looking from the door to the building to the police tape, staring in astonishment. "My timing is impeccable as always, one day sooner and I would've been a suspect" He smirked, looking around as he shifted the leather jacket onto his body.

---

---

---

---

Cecily nodded, pulling out her phone. "Good thing I took pictures of the scene, yeah? I can compile a list from the photographs--it's more accurate than my memory would be anyways."

She smiled awkwardly, quickly scanning through the photographs. She opened a note pad on her phone, writing down the vague details of everything that she saw in the photos. Once done, she followed Officer Gregory into Wallace's office, her eyes glancing towards the bullet that had been meant for her head. It still felt entirely too surreal for her, but focusing on her work, she noticed Gregory handling evidence logs.

"Give the man a medal," Cecily muttered, her eyes wide. "He actually stuck to some protocol!" She could have jumped up in the air, but decided quickly it would look too eager. Most people didn't celebrate when someone stuck to the bureaucratic measures that governed forensic work. She played it off cool, opening up the note pad she had made, and doing a quick comparison with Wallace's log. A few items on there weren't on her list -- but from the location listed with them, they came from the crime scene portion up on the roof.

"Is anything from the rooftop missing? I didn't get a chance to go up there and process those items," Cecily explained, continuing on with the cross referencing. Eventually, she determined that only two objects were missing from the log. "The gun and the phone weren't logged in. Everything else is here."

Grabbing a pair of latex gloves from the desk, Cecily snapped them on, and went to work sorting through the mess of evidence. Each bindle was labeled with the case identifier and piece of evidence, all coming back to the evidence log as a sort of master key. She searched through the mess, finding bit by bit, and trying her best not to disturb anything. If they were lucky, the intruder left behind prints or fibers or something. It'd give them a far better lead than just a strong blonde woman.

"Here's the phone..." Cecily muttered, frowning as she bit her lip. "Gun's missing. Ballistics likely didn't process it yet as well, so there goes that evidence..."

She sighed. Who in their right mind would rob a coroner's office? It was as bold a move as robbing a police station. There had to be something bigger going on. Two half-sisters commit suicide, then Lyle, and an armed robbery at the coroner's office? As far as Cecily was concerned, there was some sort of larger criminal conspiracy going on.

Though, to be fair, it wasn't like criminal conspiracies were exactly unheard of in Justice. "Perhaps the security team that assisted last night remembers something about the guns? They're super into gun, I bet, maybe they noticed something...People tend to pay more attention to things they're into, after all..."

---

---

"Breaking News, this is Christina Orukevic from I.N.S. and boy have we have a story for you this morning. As was reported last night there was another suicide on the streets of Boston Heights. A Danica Graves seems to have eaten a bullet and taken a back flop right into the sidewalk during last nights Block Party. Guess she really wanted to crash the place. You all might remember the tale of Peyton Glencross from six month ago. She to chose to end her life during one of Boston Heights now infamous little soirees. You might want to attribute this pattern to some really bad food and drink but we have a little something to reveal to the rest of you. Danica Graves is none other than the older half sister of Peyton Glencross! Seems suicidal tendencies run in the DNA. Makes you wonder doesn't it? We will let you know more as the story truly unfolds! This is Christina Orukevic sighing off."

Riley put her phone away as she turned up the volume on the radio as she started to listen to the story that was being played on the radio, it seemed like a very interesting story that the reporter somehow found out. Riley would look over her shoulder as a bus started to slowly come up on her right, she couldn't get a good look at who were in the bus but she shrugged slightly as Riley turned her attention back to the radio and listened in. Then came the same story that was broken earlier about another Boston Heights member who was living there drowning in the park, something still didn't seem right at all for some reason someone was killing them in the apartments.

Three deaths, one six months ago and two within twenty-four hours of one another wasn't really a coincidence and decided that she could talk to Cecily about it later. When the story started to play once more Riley decided to shut off the radio for now and leaned back into her seat slowly moving with the flow of traffic inch by inch.

---

---

Caesar always did like riding a motorcycle. Now this means of conveyance wasn't exactly a motorcycle, persay, but it used to be. Even went by the same local laws governing its operation. The Harley Scorpion Reverse Trike he owned was originally procured for a gig in Seattle. A badass looking street machine that was more stable than a standard bike, accounting for the hills, curves, and ubiquitous wet weather present in the United States Pacific Northwest. He thought it was a little hokey at first, until he got used to it. Reliable machine. Handled like a dream, despite its construction, and even allowed Caesar to lean into turns like a standard bike while maintaining three wheels on the blacktop. He honesty wondered why he'd never thought to get one before.

It was perhaps going to be the only pleasant experience of his day; that ride out to the docks. The way things were shaping up, shit was bound to happen. If he was around, it tended to. So he was intent on making the best of it, not quite losing himself in the moment of pure, motorbiking enjoyment, but sparing no opportunity to really open the old girl up when it was presented. The engine fired off a well-tuned mechanical growl, not as fierce as the older models that Harley-Davidson put out back in the day, but respectable and sleek. The engine itself could massively outclass any of the old-school models. The designers just didn't feel the need to make it roar as loudly.

All too soon, the venerable Mexican found himself pulling into the one obvious parking lot in the area. There didn't seem to be a whole lot of foot traffic, and finding a spot to park was a breeze. He ambled up a couple of spaces away from a familiar looking truck, curious. Carefully, he pulled off his helmet, letting the sea air waft through his long and seemingly perfectly conditioned hair, opened the front of his long coat (for ready access) and began stepping in the direction of his investigation. While passing the familiar truck, he stopped. A man was leaning against it; a man he knew. Or at least knew of.

Caesar remembered him from the party. Now, if he remembered correctly, one of his girls took an interest in him. Yeah, that's the guy. There was a touch of suspicion, him being in this place. Happening to pop up the very moment he began looking into the evidence he had just uncovered. Maybe it was a coincidence. Either way, Caesar had seen Lawson, and Lawson most likely had seen him. It would have been even more suspicious not to say something, now that they were aware of each other.

"Orale, Smoker-boy!" he started in friendlyish tones. It slipped into something just a hair darker as he continued, his eyes involuntarily narrowing against the sun reflecting on the ocean in the background, "Fuck you doing here, ey?"

Even if this was just a strange coincidence, it would put a wrinkle in what was supposed to be a quick and quiet look around.

---

---

Jeremy paused his search for a moment as he heard the TV downstairs come on. He heard the news, it wasn't the clearest but the house was quiet enough that it came up to him. He scoffed, it seemed even the mediocre reporters in Justice were dramatic pricks with no real respect for the dead. Although, despite the almost mocking tone of the newscaster, the story itself was interesting enough. So, Peyton Glencross and Danica Graves were half sisters, that explained things a bit better. Gave her a reason to look into Peyton's death, and perhaps to stick her nose in a little too far - far enough to get herself killed.

And it was the exact same thing Jeremy was sticking his nose in. Well, he'd been shot at, blown up, beaten up and chased by some pretty bad folks over the years, he figured these guys weren't going to be any worse. Or maybe, he just wanted them to come after him.

Kneeling down, he scratched at his chin as he spotted the picture on the floor, picking it up with his free hand as he looked over it. He recognized them both in an instant, he didn't think either Peyton or Danica would be a face he'd forget after the events the two had been through - and how closely Jeremy had been following them. Flipping over the photo for good measure, and simply to be thorough, he tucked it into his pocket, standing to look into the folder it'd come out of.

He stared at the paper for a good long while, he figured this folder hadn't been one of Noelle's, rather, he assumed it had belonged to her father. Unfortunately, Robert was always royally shit at marking or making clear any of his notes. While that was a good thing, if the wrong people got their hands on his things, it was always a giant pain in the ass for him. He racked his brain for a while, trying to make sense of the cubes, searching through his thoughts for anything that could have related. Eventually, he sighed, picking up the paper and folding it up. Grabbing his journal, he tucked it in between some of the pages, before continuing his search of the room, he didn't expect much - but he wanted to make sure he didn't miss anything.

---

---

---

---

Smiling as he watched her approach him, he felt her arms wrap around his waist and shifted to set a hand on the small of her back, enjoying the proximity for a moment before she grabbed his keys and tossed them up, leaving his grasp as he chuckled, catching the keys in his left hand. Moving to the door, he followed her out and closed it behind them, taking a moment to lock up before he turned to continue following her down and outside.

As they got outside, he peered toward the crime scene, finally able to get a decent look of it now that the police had mostly cleared away. His curiosity was finally sated, at least somewhat as he looked over the tape, the chalk marking on the pavement, and the stained blood around the concrete. It would've been a gruesome scene, but Lucas had always been the type to fancy a murder mystery, never one to shy away from the gruesome, he'd probably just seen one too many movies as a kid.

His thoughts returned to the present as he heard Risa's phone ring, glancing over to her as he moved over to his car with her, unlocking it as it became aware to him who was on the phone. "Kerro äiti sanoin hei." He commented in her native tongue, more out of habit from hearing her speak it than anything. Lucas had made a hell of an effort to learn the difficult language when they first got together - and although he wasn't perfect, he knew more than enough to get by. Yawning as he clicked his seat belt on and turned on the engine, he pulled away form the curb and began to drive down the street, getting caught up in the morning traffic before long. "We can stop there after we go to the U.N, with this traffic it'll probably be time for lunch by then." He chuckled softly, settling in as the traffic moved at a slow but steady pace.