A Broken Man

Scarlet's raven haired girl friend shrugged while sipping her small plastic cup of water,"You've been gone, Scar." Jasmine excused simply.

Scarlet looked out at the dancers and sighed,"Too long. You've got to remind me to take a break every once an a while," she feigned disappointment for a moment only break into a smile once more,"I still wish I could've introduced my partner to you guys. He's shy and kind of messy, but an honest, caring guy." she said softly, watching people dancing a bit sorrowfully. After a moment, she looked back to her friend and gave a nod. "I think you'd like him, Jasmine."

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Bart groaned upon waking. His head pulsed, his blood pounded his ears. What time was it? He drug his phone from the floor and punched off the sound. The exhausted man stared blankly at the coffee table across from him. Apparently he had fallen asleep on his couch. He looked over his half empty bottle of scotch then scanned the floor for putrid stains. 'Didn't throw up. Good,' Bart couldn't help sighing deeply as his scabbed knuckles. Not that he had the energy to, he'd have to wash the blood off before he went anywhere.

Last night was one for the records. His heart had been broken. He felt hopeless. He wasn't sure if he could put himself back together this time.

His phone ringer sounded again, sending spikes of pain straight to his head. He groaned, glanced around to the multiple dents and holes in his wall, and he laid back down. On the last ring, he swiped right and lunged the device to his ear. "What do you want?" He snapped into the phone.

Scarlet raised an eyebrow at his angry tone, "Um, some of us have work?" she said snarkily, tapping her foot in impatience,"I can't do anything unless you're here or you call in sick, Bartholomew." she confessed with a resolute shake of her head. The ginger wanted to curse her boss for these stupid rules, but of course she wouldn't. "You know that." she nearly snapped before sipping her warm hazelnut mocha latte. He made her wait, just twiddling her thumbs, practically every other day! "I'm sorry you've felt bad," she apologized cooley. What was always his excuse? 'Oh I have a headache, sorry.' At this point, she didn't pity him for the lack of sick days, "But you can't just leave me hanging, Bart."

"Ok..." he groaned into the phone as he sat up, holding his head, "You're right. I'm sorry." he apologized for the millionth time this month alone, "I'll be there soon." He hung up with a sigh then trudged through his minefield of trash to the bathroom. Bart winced as the cold water flowed across his sore knuckles. Why did he have to punch so many holes again? He washed his hands and winced when they started bleeding. He sighed at the scarlet swirling around his sink, carefully dried his hands, then wrapped them with some gauze before laggerily getting dressed.

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Scarlet huffed but used this time to check on the notes they'd sent in the day before,"Rachael. Ya got anything for me?" she asked with a small smile, tapping her fingers impatiently on the other woman's desk. She sighed deeply as she watched the woman shake her head. Why was there no viable leads? They didn't even get more pictures!

Still, she knew it was the same people. They'd left another note, which thoroughly pissed everyone off. Scarlet waiting. Least she had the assurance of *one* truth: it was only a matter of time before they got cocky and made a mistake. It happened to even the best criminals.

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Scarlet's eyes widened as she looked up from their newly assigned case."Bart??" she asked in concern. He pushed the door before nearly collapsing in one of the cherry red chairs across from her dress. Corpses down the morgue looked better than him!

His hair was an unbrushed, mess, his filthy glasses were gone, his bloodshot eyes were barely open. "Sorry Scar," And Lord! He sounded horrible! "I had a rough night." He said to the floor.

She shook her head, leaning forward to hand him some of her darkest sun glasses, "My God, Bartholomew. What happened to you??" she asked a bit frantically. He clearly had a hangover, but had he gotten in a fight? Truth be told, the sight made her anxious. What if this had something to do with her?

He sighed deeply at the question. 'You.' How naive was she? "Nothing, I'm fine." He said with a shake of his head as he, despite the burn of his knuckles, worked on unearthing the journal from his bag pack. "Wait, so we're *not* working on the robbers case?" He asked groggily.

She rolled her eyes, "You almost look as bad as our new homicide." she commented with a frown before addressing his question, "We can't, Rachael ruled out our only lead this morning," she said with a shake of her head.

He frowned. Another disappointment. This was exactly what he hoped and dreamed for. "Oh, okay.." his gritty mumble was barely audible, "Hit me."

She nodded and tried to act as if maybe, this one time, he'd actually be able to help, "I'm not sure it'll be easier,"she confessed with a sigh, sliding some pictures in front of him, "But at least we've got a couple leads."

He leaned down on his hand, wincing lightly at the weight. "I'll do my best to keep up." He promised with a small smile.

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Scrubbing a dish, Tony glanced up to the sound of the wind slamming restruarant's side door closed. His brow raised curiously. It was the lunch rush, why would Jazza be here now?

His eyes grew scant when he realized the confident woman was heading straight for him. "Tony!" she slapped her palm down on the table nearest to the middle, startling both himself and the persons occupying it.

The man gulped and rounded the bar, his expression both confused and slightly alarmed, "Yes?"

Jazza's full lips curved into a devilish smirk. Then suddenly her hand was on his collar, her face was inches from his, and she was issuing orders, "You. Me. Saturday at 7. The skating rink." Upon her turning away, he released the breath he'd unknowingly been holding. The poor boy's face was as red as a tomato, and her pointing at him from the door didn't help, "Be late and I'll kill you."

As fast as she entered, she was gone. Blushing Tony could not even react when one of his teenage customers rang,"Daammnn, what's *her* problem?"

Once the man regained enough composure, he disappeared in the back; gasping and clenching the fabric barely holding his heart in his chest. He knew she was bold, but damn! He was on fire.

After a good while, one of his employees poked his head in the freezer to check on him. "She got chu good, huh?" Needing desperately to keep up appearances, he laughed and shook it off.

"Like no one else can." He admitted before returning to his post. Truthfully he wished he had her guts. Never would he have been able to do that, in front of an entire no less! "She's amazing, y'know?" It had taken him years to even think about having enough courage to ask her out.

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Jazza bit the tip of her blackened nail in worry while her adopted sister banged cheerfully around her tiny kitchen,"You don't it was too much?" She asked fearfully.

Jesseye giggled at her pasta dish and shook her head,"No, Jazz. I think it fits you. He's known you for years, remember?"

The anxious woman nodded slowly,"Y-yes.." Her sis made a valid point. Tony *should* know by now that she wasn't exactly 'shy' in any aspect of the word. But what if he didn't? What if her forwardness scared him off? What if--

"Jazzebella!"

The poor woman nearly jumped out of her skin. Her attention snapped back to Jesseye,"What?"

Jesseye's expression softened as she took her pan of leftovers off the burner,"Stop worrying." She set her pan down to rub her shoulder, "Tony's strong, aannndd," she continued while slinking to the plate cabinet, "He really likes you. He'll show, I just know it!"

"But--" Jazzebella's eyes widened upon realizing her fatal mistake,"I didn't tell him which rink!" After faceplanting into the counter, she groaned.

Jesseye could *not* keep from snickering up a storm. "You, you.." She could bearly breath, "What?!" In fact, she had to hold onto the very counter Jazza's embarrassed face was smooshed into!

"I forggoott," the elder sibling nearly whined.

She pat Jazzebella's back as she continued laughing,"Guess he'll figure it out on his own!"

His dark skinned woman sighed deeply into the counter,"Lord I hope so."

"By the way, have you seen Shane?" Jesseye changed subjects soon after recovering.

Jazz shook her head to convey her answer. Maybe he was just out? But he never left without at least saying bye.

"What? But it's like 2:30!" She exclaimed in surprise. Jazz shrugged. Jesseye jumped to her feet and started for the door, "I'm gonna check on him."