Short Stories: K Interrupts Officer Wheeler and the Detective in the Hallway [Chapter 1: K's POV] [Keira Version]

Murder, right at the station... Keira buries her hand in her hair, attempting to focus on the discussion in the briefing room.

She doesn't know what disturbs her most: the fact that it happened right under their noses, so quiet and organized that no one saw anything, or that it occurred in the detective's office.

With a tired sigh, Keira leans back in her chair, lifting her eyes to the ceiling, while the lively arguments between the captains blur into the background. Focus. Think. What to do, how to proceed?

"We'll discuss it when we have more information. Everyone, dismissed," Nash says in a tone that dissuades any further objections, pulling Keira out of her thoughts. The room fills with the sound of shuffling chairs and quiet conversations between the captains as they leave, and Keira rises from her chair as well, rubbing her neck.

The detective was supposed to be at the briefing too, but when everything happened, they were already off shift. She informed the captains that she would contact the detective herself, asking them to return to the station.

She'd never admit to herself the relief she felt when she heard the detective's concerned 'yes?' on the phone, telling her they were fine.

Because she had reason to be worried. A body in a detective's office could mean anything: a threat, a warning, a hint that the detective would be next... The thought makes the blood in her veins run cold, and she shrugs her shoulders, trying to shake off the occasional anxiety.

"Keira," Chief's voice makes her pause. "Tell Surname to come see me when they're done," he orders without looking at her.

"Understood," Keira says, heading out without waiting to be dismissed.

Pulling out her phone, she checks the time and curses under her breath. Due to the captains' arguments over what happened, the briefing went longer than usual. The detective should be waiting for her in her office by now.

She presses her lips together, continuing to walk to her office faster. She needs to see the detective to ensure that they're okay and to know that—

She shakes her head. She needs to find out what they've learned and then think about how to proceed.

Arriving at her office, a knot of worry tightened in her chest. As she pushes open the door, the sight of her empty office only serves to deepen that sense of unease, making her anxiety overwhelm her every thought.

Fuck.

She doesn't even bother to put the clipboard she's been holding the entire time on the desk; her body seems to be moving on autopilot toward the detective's office, where the murder was committed.

Where the hell is Surname? Did they even make it to the station? She clenches her jaw as her thoughts continue to run through worst-case scenarios, preventing her from thinking rationally, but she doesn't care. She needs to make sure everything's okay. She needs to see them. She needs to—

Her train of thought is interrupted as she turns into yet another hallway. Her body almost immediately goes limp as she spots the detective, their gazes lock.

The relief she feels from just a second of feeling the detective's tired gaze on her is quickly replaced by irritation when she sees the presumable reason why the detective is late.

"Surname, why the hell are you still here?! I was waiting for you with the report half an hour ago!" she says with a raised voice, hating the ease with which anything related to the detective arouses such a storm of emotion within her.

It's all because the murder happened in their office, Keira tells herself, but her heart skips a heavy beat when their gazes lock again. There's no other reason—

"I was on my way," the detective says after a brief pause, shifting their gaze to the officer standing next to them, then back to her.

There's a flicker of subtle discomfort in the detective's eyes, and when Keira shifts her gaze to Officer Wheeler, noticing his flushed face, a cold surge of emotion she can't quite name spreads through her body like poison.

"Officer Wheeler." She spells the officer's surname, not bothering to hide her stirring irritation.

"Ma'am!" He straightens up and salutes, holding his chin high. Keira casts him a glance, ignoring the officer's greeting, wondering only about one thing: why the hell is she so angry?

She frowns harder, instead asking, "Where is your partner?"

The officer's face becomes paler, and for some reason, this reaction makes whatever she felt earlier appear to be… fulfilled?

"I was about to catch up with him, ma'am!"

"Were you?" Keira asks, not believing a word of it, and the officer quickly nods more times than necessary. "How about you hurry up, then?"

She practically berates herself for this behavior, but when instead of answering, the officer shifts his gaze back to the detective, she feels such a surge of cold anger that makes all thoughts shut down.

"What's wrong, Officer?" She asks, taking a step closer to the officer. "Can't handle finding your partner without the detective's help?"

With a nervous muttering of denial, the officer salutes and marches away, leaving Keira with a relief that feels bitter but still makes the tension fall off her shoulders.

She had no reason to react so harshly. She knows it, but... Memories of their locked gazes and Officer Wheeler's flushed face instantly bring up the worst in her. Fuck. All because of—

"Surname." She returns her attention to the detective again, gesturing for them to follow.

Feeling the detective trail close behind, the question seems to come out of her on its own, as well as the irritated tone of her voice, which betrays her real emotions when she asks, "Is that why you are late? I don't remember you having a babysitting line in your list of responsibilities."

There's a second's silence, and she internally scolds herself for saying something before she thinks about it, but words aren't something she can take back.

"It wasn't my intention," the detective says with a tense voice that immediately softens her, causing her to cast the detective a glance.

The next words fly out of her lips before she can swallow them. "I noticed."

She quickly looks away from the detective, trying to suppress the heat rising to her face. But unlike her previous words, she meant what she said.

Keira starts to walk faster, wishing to hide all that storm of emotion, hoping to escape from the power that the detective has over her.

But no matter how hard she tries to suppress it, the detective's footsteps echo the beating of her heart, whispering to her a craved and terrifying certainty: It's already too late for that.