She blinked. She had zoned out again, hadn't she? Shaking her head, she thoguh back again, back to those moments a rather long time ago...
--X--
"Donave, this had better be worthwhile. It's freakin' five-thirty, and I got little to no sleep last night." The gruff, tired, feminine voice cut the cool morning air. London had rained the previous night, and a drizzle dampened the cool, November air. Apparently there was going to be late snows this year, though this was the last thing on the mind of the suprisingly young detective. The rain hit her long, yellow coat, her hands stuffed deeply into the pockets.
"Sorry to here that, Kibs. What exactly were you doing all night?" The one referred to as Donave grinned, winking at the younger. The girl gave the older a dark look, and stepped purposefully over the bright police tape, speaking in a business-tone, "Just shut up and tell me what happened." Her voice was thickly riddled with a London accent, in comparison to the lighter, more Canadian voice of her partner.
"Another of the strange murders. Young male, caucasian, dark hair, about 5'62''. Genitals, once again, missing. Ripped clean off. Well, not really clean off--"
"Yeah, ok, I got the visual. Unfortunately." Although the female muttered the last part, the male grinned in reply, his ears picking up the remark. Kibs was more affected by this news than most others. It was frustrating her; they had been dancing about like this, just to annoy her, for many days now. More people would suffer, but she couldn't do anything without proof, or risk jeopardizing her position in the force.
"Donave, Kibs." A greeting grated the air in a rough, yet drawling voice. Kibs struggled not to grimace, and turned around slowly to face the body of the voice. Her hands stayed deep in her pockets, the fingers struggling to keep their meager warmth against the cold Autumn. Kibs peered out at the other character with one muddy eye, curious flecks of gold floating about in their depths like nuggets in a puddle of muck. Her partner forced a smile, the gesture mocking rather than friendly.
"Ah, we should've expected, right? Listen, this is sexual offence as well as homicide, so we aren't going to be able to hide things from each other." The voice of a younger male told them in a demanding voice.
"Well, we just got here like you, so all we both know is that even if our victim hadn't died from the blood loss, he probably could never have kids." Kevin Donave answered in a dry voice, his eyes flickering accusingly to Kibs at the first words. The girl had already started moving away to examine the body.
A succubi did this. That much is clear. She chewed on her lower lip distractedly, examining the wounds up close, holding up the plastic sheet. It was a real mess beneath, it seemed some extras had been ripped out along the way somehow, and were just dropped, left behind.
"What is it?" The soft murmer of Kevin made Kibs stiffen, and she turned her head and her chest to see her partner looking at her carefully, his eyes flickering every now and then to the body. Kibs narrowed her eyes at him, saying rather shortly, "Well I can't exactly make anything with you standing so close. Give me some breathing space."
Donave gave a suprised raising of the eyebrows--it was quite unlike Kibs to get so snippy over such small things. She was certainly vexed about something.
"Yes ma'am." Murmered the Canadian, edging away. He glanced at the woman, her peculiar hair wafting in the early morning wind, her natural angelic blonde showing through in streaks to the rosey pink dye. He sighed, crouching down and pulling down the blanket over his head. Kibs glanced at the face shortly, taking little interest. She leaned forward, sniffed the missing genitals, then seemed to go still. She turned, and asked suddenly, "Lift that blanket again. Let me see his face."
"Uhm, his face?" Donave asked, one eyebrow querying as it was lost in the tangle of mousey brown hair. Kibs scowled at him, answering shortly, "Yes the face. I wouldn't ask otherwise. Now hurry up and pull back that blanket."
Donave did as she bit, not wanting to see more of this early-morning Kibs, and she seemed to stare at the revealed face for some time. After a moment she sniffed, and motioned with one hand for him to pull the blanket back up again. He did as she bid once again, but kept one brow arched up, never letting it even quiver.
For a moment man and woman exchanged looks, one an unyeilding query, the other an exhasperated scowl, but in the end it was man who triumphed.
"What is it Kibs?" Donave asked, his usually chirpy voice back in place. She gave a blank look at this new developement, a Kibs-sign that she was down with scowling, but she wasn't going to go about throwing information.
Hey, when you're forced to work everyday with the woman, you begin to learn her various looks.
