1 Fallen Fangs

"Have you ever wished for something with your dying breath?" she whispered into his ears, the person she had admired throughout her career. "Don't worry, I'll clean up this mess before I say my last goodbye, except it's not my final," she said, leaning in a little more.

The room looked the way it always did, impeccable and spotless. The papers were always organised in the appropriate drawers and the desk, always clean. She walked into the room many times and had the same look of confusion in her eyes every time she looked around the room. This was where he existed. The place he could be what he wanted to be. His kingdom. Everyone talked about the overused coffee dispenser by the door and the granola crumbs on the floor. Not many knew about the clothes that filled the drawers in his desk, but knowing that would shock exactly one person in the entire building. It wasn't her. For it was her home as well when she had nowhere to go to. Her eyes screamed admiration, but her actions were what made her who she was.

"Ms Wright, please get off the table and have a seat," he said, without moving an inch. "Let us have a conversation without you having to worry about the non-existent mess you made. You look quite level headed despite your mania," he smirked. He looked at the tigress right in the eyes and told softly, with a voice that wasn't able to find any words, "We are too small for this."

"That is all you could say?"

"That is all my lady"

She held back her tears, not for her job but her pride. Thinking back of the day it all started. The mess she was dragged into. Clueless at best, knowledgable at worst. She knew her boss too well to not know if he were lying. Unfortunately, this time, he wasn't. He was too insignificant to know the details. The head of the biggest hospital in the city not being told the details of the investigation.

"I heard you are friends with Ms Ina." She wrapped around her fingers across his neck, sliding them a little higher.

"Oh my, you're quick. I already called her," he replied, taking her hand off his neck and wiping clear a visible bloodstain on his neck. "You are getting bolder every day, but threatening me will not get you any closer to the truth. Ina knows nothing, and neither do I," he took her palm into his and held out the tiny blade, a blade too small to be seen between the fingers. One designed to cut through humans with no notice and minimal pain. Throwing it in the trash, he reached for the first aid kit,

"How long have you been holding this?" he asked, wrapping her fingers in bandages.

"What are you doing?" Her arrogant smile turned a detached frown, "Have you gone crazy? You'll be arrested this time. How dare you threaten your supervisor. You're a psycho." She murmured in a monotone. "Why aren't you saying anything?" she pulled her arm back, checking the wraps to hide her embarrassment.

"Supervisor? Have you gone crazy?" he laughed. "I must be dreaming right now. I should have recorded this and presented to the board. You could get through this with a plea of madness," the laughter was cut off as she got down the table and took her seat. "Are you planning anything?" he tilted his head, lightly resting it on his hand.

Upright as a general and the eyes of one, enough for anyone to question her profession. She had seen enough deaths and went through countless sleepless nights, all for a wish. Selling her soul for the wish seemed insignificant now. "Not yet," she said, looking down. "But a dead person can't choose, ain't so?"

"True freedom comes after death, for those who were shackled through their life." They both knew what he meant. "No point in talking about deadly wishes," he reclined back, lifted his arm and glanced at his watch, "Grab some dinner?"

"Not interested. I need your intel."

"i7?"

"You sure know how to test people huh?" she responded.

"Only patients," he sat straight up, looking into her eyes, "And your limits." He got up from his chair and put on his overcoat. Picking up his bag, he looked at her and said, "You need intel, I need food. It's useless to argue with your fallen fangs." The lightened atmosphere turned serious again with that single statement.

"They are fools to think they have my fangs," she pounced out of her chair leering at him. "They went through so much and all they could do was to give me a manicure. Don't get ahead of yourself." She knew her position, and his attitude. She knew this conversation was going to go nowhere until she conceded.

"Sure, sure, Ms Shiny Nailed Saber-Tooth," he got moving towards the door with empty hands and a careless grin. Confidence or ignorance, she couldn't tell anymore.

Moving out of his way with a huge step, her oversized labcoat flared out, like a cloak of a witch. She faced him and bowed a little as if to show her cooperation, bound by her honour, no less than a caped knight. As she prepared to go with him, she peeped again, at the empty desk in the less than perfect room. When she turned back, she saw the man looking at her, the heir to this mess, with the ever so confident smile on his face.

"Why don't we continue over dinner, Tigress?" he turned back and waved his hand in the air with a smug look, knowing she can't deny him, "Let me be by your side until your claws grow back."

"Sure, I crave some meat"

"I know a good place! Two blocks from here."