Poison - Chapter 2

II

"Get the hell up! We have things to do!" I jumped at the sound of Roxanne's voice and the slamming of a heavy book right by my ear. Sitting up straight and letting my eyes adjust to the bright lights that somehow had just affected me, I looked over at Roxanne.
At first, I thought that she must've gone home that night and left me sleeping at the precinct, due to the fact that she looked neither tired nor like she pulled an all-nighter. But again, I was wrong. Like I always would be with Roxanne Winston.
"God... What is happening? And why did you have to shout like that? There's more people in the building, you know." Roxanne just rolled her eyes at my false inquiry.
"If anyone else was in the building, they'd either be forever single or fucking crazy." Somehow, her words made sense, even with her sharp tone and fast pace. We had schedules. The officers with night shifts weren't at the office, they were in their cars watching over different parts of the city. I couldn't help to smirk though as I thought of her words as they mixed in with her own presence at the precinct.
"You're in the building. What does that make you?" I asked. She didn't even hesitate to answer me as she shuffled through papers and organized piles.
"Both." She said simply, grabbing a pile of folders in one hand and setting a cup of coffee in front of me. "Now drink. I can't have a half-asleep partner. That would be degrading."
"Great. So now I'm degrading. How kind of you to say." I exaggerated, pissed off. Sure, I was tired. It was early in the morning - so I thought - and no one was even at the station. But degrading? She was really digging deep, and not in a good way.
I took a glance at the only clock in the room out of pure curiosity and was more than angry to find what I saw. If we had been in a cartoon, I could've guaranteed that my eyes would've been bugging out and hell would've struck moments ago.
"Are you kidding me?" My tone made her stop and look at me, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. "It's two o'clock in the morning."
"Good job. You understand time." Her voice was full of sarcasm and she continued, "Now, get up. We have things to do, not including staring at the clock and watching the minute hand pass the hour hand. And vice versa if you take cocaine, amphetamines, phencyclidine, lysergic acid diethylamide, marijuana, and even alcohol. Though alcohol can be a stretch..."
"What?" I was confused as hell as she moved on from clock work to drugs, but decided to ignore it completely. "Okay, I'm going home. I don't know and I don't care what 'we' have to do, but whatever it is can wait. Or you can do it yourself. Unlike you evidentially, sleep is required for function. I'm a real human being. So, I'll see you tomorrow." I grabbed my jacket, which I had taken off an hour into the file sorting, and began to walk to the door.
"You got four hours of sleep and technically it's today!" She yelled at me as I left the room. I rolled my eyes. Roxanne was fucking insane. That was the only thing I could think of as I called a cab from the side of the road.
Who the hell was Roxanne Winston anyway? An FBI agent, so she said. But that was all I knew. Aside from the whole insanity part of her. Maybe it was her work that kept her up like that, maybe it was normal. Maybe she was going through some kind of traumatic event of sorts. Maybe she just got broken up with. Maybe one of her parents died. Or maybe both. Where was I going?
Or maybe it was something completely different like the fact that she was in New York City. Maybe she lived in Washington D.C. and wasn't used to that big of a city. You know, the one with a hundred plus story skyscrapers and-
Where the hell was I going with this anyway? Just because she was fine with pulling an all-nighter did not mean any of those things, though the whole Washington D.C. to New York City thing made the most sense. It was probably just her personality that sent her to be so... dedicated to nothing but her work. Those files, she spent so little time on each one of them and figured so many of them out. It was insanity in itself.
Maybe it was just me being totally sleep deprived. I needed to get out of that wretched suit, I needed to get some rest, even if it was only for a few hours. For me, any time spent out of those work clothes was relaxing. And that's just what I needed. And to get away from the crazy blonde I was now partnered up with.
I reached my apartment in little time seeing I was stuck mostly in my mind for most of the drive. Walking up three flights of stairs - which could've been easier if I wasn't so exhausted from the days work - and turning the silver key at my front door, I was finally home. Or what I would call home for the next few weeks.
I had only three boxes, all of them half-packed with nothing but the boring novels Mom had gotten me during college - most of them explaining how to become a good lawyer and how to choose between working in the different branches of government.
I pulled off my jacket and walked to the stack of mail I had just picked up, rummaging through the pile and noting what everything was.
"Bills, bills, advertisement..." I muttered. I stopped suddenly, noticing one envelope that stood out. I looked for an address, but there wasn't one.
I opened the package abruptly, finding myself confused as ever to find one single sheet of printer paper and three words printed onto it. Three words that I recognized and remembered more than the laws I enforced.
Jacob Biagino Konstantinov.

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