Cold Case

The Missing Girl, Part One

BAKUGO'S POV

"How old was she when she went missing?" Midoriya asked while glancing down at the file we chose for this week.

"She was eight," I frowned. "She was yanked from the sidewalk while walking home from school.

"That was six years ago," he mumbled. "The odds of finding her alive are very slim." Unfortunately, he's not wrong. The odds of finding a child alive after 72 hours are incredibly low since most children don't make it past 48 hours with their abductor.

"All friends and family were thoroughly investigated, so they ruled out family and acquaintance kidnapping." Which lowers the statistics even more. There are a lot of sick people in this world.

"Can we request an aged-up drawing from an artist? We probably wouldn't recognize her now since she's fourteen." I asked. That would help us get an idea of what she would look like now, but we still have no idea where to start looking. After six years, all the trails are gone. We had nothing to go on here.

"Yeah, I'll send the information up." He began clicking around on his computer. He was wearing a white button-up shirt today, and I could hardly focus. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms. These next eleven and a half months will go incredibly slow, especially if he dresses like that.

"How long will it take to get the picture back?" I asked. We've never had a reason to use it at the firm, so I don't know much about how they make those pictures.

"They'll probably do it digitally, so maybe thirty minutes? Assuming they're not backed up or anything." He shrugged.

"Do you want to grab a bite to eat while we wait on the picture, then?" I asked. "There's this really nice Thai restaurant a couple of blocks away."

"Yeah, I'll phone in our pickup order."

"Or we can go sit down and eat," I offered. He's been iffy about where we sit and eat since our heated make-out session at the beginning of this week. Apparently, some restaurants feel too much like a date. So unless it's a diner or a run-down restaurant, he doesn't want us to sit in and eat. It doesn't stop me from trying.

"Then pick somewhere else to go." He shrugged.

"If we're avoiding spending time together in nice restaurants, are we going to hang out outside of work?" He kept his eyes focused on his computer. "Because I remember you telling me about a maple food festival. I've kind of had my heart set on it." He looked up just in time to catch my quick wink.

"We'll still go to the maple festival," he shook his head in amusement. "But if you can't behave while we're there, we won't hang out outside work anymore." He threatened in a warning tone.

"Come on; I know how to behave." I teased. It's been three days since I held him against me and kissed him like my life depended on it. Since then, I have tried to keep my thoughts and comments to myself. It's hard sometimes, but I think I've been managing fine.

"You have been doing pretty good," he mused. "Come on, let's go get Thai."

"We haven't ordered it yet." There's no point in us going and waiting even longer because we didn't order it sooner.

"I figured we could sit in."

"Yeah?" I always preferred we sit in because his full attention was on me. When we ordered food, we ended up eating while working. I want to spend the next eleven and a half months getting to know everything about him.

"Let's go before I change my mind."

I didn't hesitate to grab my jacket and follow him out the door.