7:00 am (GMT8)
Another day had come to start, and Amelia wasted no time to get herself ready. Sat on the end of her bed, she buttoned up her white button up shirt with her small hands, Slipping each button into its proper slit, Legs already covered with black business pants. Hair tied back in a low ponytail. Once she finished buttoning her shirt, she reached over to grab her earring. Easily slipping the hoop earring into her left earlobe.
All the while, Dallas was sitting in their bed. Shirtless with the covers under his torso. His hair was swooped over his eyes, messy and yet he still looked as handsome as ever. Eyes of purple jewels were fixated on the computer screen on his lap, typing away at the keys with vigorous focus. Both were always up bright and early for work, even if it didn't involve being on the field. When being an agent, there was no time for wasting the day away.
"Amelia..Are you sure you feel capable to go out today?" Amelia turns her head back to look at Dallas, who's staring directly at her. There's the obvious look of worry in his eyes. Yet Amelia isn't phased, placing her hand down on the mattress to hold herself up.
"Dallas, I've dealt with so many other things in my job.. An eyeball is nothing more than a jump, now that I look at it." Perhaps her statement was a lie, anything to get herself through the days ahead. If she spent more time dwelling and worrying about the now past, she would be unprepared for the future.
He leans forward, eyebrows raised. Hands placed on both sides of his laptop, prepared to close it. "I understand, but do you really believe that you should worry so much about Ricardo when he is already in prison?"
In some ways, his question was correct. The man was in prison, so his part of the entire fiasco was over. Ricardo would spend the rest of his life in prison, doomed to see the blinding light of the outside through a small window. Caged like a rabid animal with metal bars. However, Ricardo was not the finishing piece to the puzzle. If anything in her mind, he was just the beginning.
There was someone behind Ricardo, someone with more money and power to manipulate his intentions. She had to get some sort of information out of him, before she could lay his part to rest.
She sighs, rubbing her neck. "Dallas..He may know something. He told me someone, an old friend of mine, had set him up to change the cartel name." With that statement lingering in the back of her mind, there was only one person at the moment she could suspect.
Cathy Miller, an old friend from college who had brazenly come into her agency. Whispering of threats into her ears before disappearing without a trace. Could she have some ties to the entire event? The other woman had no doubt some vengeance about the past: Becoming friends with the younger version of herself got many people killed or their lives ruined. Cathy was no exception to this rule, there was no doubt the woman wished she was dead.
A clear suspect she would look into.
"That means someone may be out to get me,at this point." Amelia watches as Dallas shuts his computer, placing it onto his nightstand. "They're warning me that they're arriving."
The clock continued to tick by, she knew without a doubt each minute the person involved grew closer. Not by inches, but by staggering miles of progression and meticulous movements. A warning was a graceful thing when it came to her job, she would take the warning to become five steps ahead. Even without warnings, she always ended out on top of the situation no matter what.
Amelia cups under her chin, holding her head up with her knee under her elbow. Eyes glancing towards her partner, tilting her head at him. "Dallas, do me a favor?"
Dallas responds with a hum, eyebrow raising in curiosity at her request. "It's something I trust you will do in a short amount of time."
"Hm?" He muses, leaning forward in his sitting position.
"Please go to the morgue today with your brother Zackary and see if the results on the eye I received are in.." Amelia pauses, pushing the strands of hair behind her ears. "It is most likely one of the victims we have on file."
The taller male nods, giving her confirmation. "I will, don't worry Amelia." He sounded firm, yet soft with his words.
Dallas was always giving her a helping hand, no matter how big or small: She was thankful for his efforts. Even if it wasn't his team, he still made sure to put himself into the operation. Working together for this case she knew was going to be easy when it came to getting tasks done. She only hoped that this wouldn't cause a rift in their relationship. Working on the same case could be stressful, when getting their hands dirty.
Amelia stands up, fixing her button up shirt to cover over exposed skin on her stomach. She looks back at him, giving him a light smile. "I'm going to visit Ricardo at the maximum security prison..See if he'll open up to talk." She pauses, "I'll call you after if I have any important news."
He leans on his side, hand holding himself up. The moment was completely serious, yet her eyes can't help but wander over his bare torso. His arms muscular and toned, his torso sculpted to perfection. Amelia knew his upper back muscles were strong, attractive in the way they flexed. Dallas was a beautiful man, she couldn't take her eyes off of him. She was one lucky woman: a man who was both intelligent and beautiful.
She snaps out of her trance when her ears hear his throat clear, looking back up to his own eyes. There's an amused smile on his face, knowing she had been staring. The stare doesn't falter on either end, she wasn't embarrassed. Not in their own home, he was her partner after all.
"Call me even if you don't please, I'd like to make sure you're okay."
Amelia nods, "Alright Dallas, I will." She turns away, before hearing the light whistler from behind her. Looking back, Dallas still has the soft and confident smile on his face.
"What are you smiling at me for?" Her eyebrow raises in question, Dallas waving his hand in dismissal with a chuckle on his lips.
"You already know why I'm smiling. You're a smart woman, of course seeing they're your eyes." He was clearly talking about her glances at his bare chest and arms. Amelia chuckles, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Dallas." She leans forward over the bed, placing her hands down to hold herself up. Gently she kisses his lips, a smile curling when she pulls away. "I'll call you, don't miss me too much at work."
She pulls back to straighten her posture, giving Dallas a casual wave as she turns on her heels. The sound of clicking of keys can be heard once more as she heads out of their bedroom, moving into their living room.
Amelia moved to their shoe rack, pulling down a pair of white Nikes, sitting down on the arm of a chair to begin putting them on. Humming as she ties the laces of each one, before standing up on her two feet. Once at the door, she grabs her trench coat off of the coat rack.
The fabric engulfs her body, the base going down to almost her ankles. Wrapping it around her torso, she grabs the doorknob with her free hand. With her other hand, quickly she grabs her purse and keys. In no time at all she opens the door and walks out of her home. Living in a condo wasn't as hectic as some would believe it to be.
She had very few neighbors, and when she did see them she rarely greeted them. Why strike up a conversation with someone who could be brought into her world of death and pain? Amelia would rather save them the trouble of the burden that was her presence. Yet this morning the hallways were empty, the looming echoes of other peoples televisions or voices peer through their doors cracks. Joyous of the lack of social interaction, she walks to the elevator.
Clicking the button with the down arrow, she places her hands in her pockets. Waiting patiently, watching as each floor hit with a ding. She was in no rush to meet Ricardo, she knew he wasn't going anywhere.
The elevator finally hits her floor, the doors slowly opening. With grace she steps into the elevator, clicking the bottom floor; as well as the button to close the doors.
With a slight bump the elevator descends, emerald eyes watching the numbers decrease with each passing minute. Even so it felt entirely too slow, not because of a feeling of rush. Feeling the intense weight placed on her shoulders, by everything in its entirety.
Would someone she used to love truly do this? Manipulate one of the most powerful men in the Los Angeles mafia for their own personal gain against her? Amelia had plenty of enemies, the last five years they continued to multiply with every capture. Now, it was personal. A connection of past interactions, of someone feeling wronged by actions: Her actions.
She knew she had done what she had to, to survive. Anyone in her position would have done the same if warranted. And if they said otherwise, they were full of shit.
A ding rings through the small box, before the doors of the elevator slowly open.