1.2 | Elena Ardent, PD

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The blood on my clothes had dried, staining my pale blue running shirt in uneven blotches. The long sleeved shirt hugged my body, which was reasonably fit. Given that fights like the one I had just won wasn't an uncommon occurrence in my day to day life, it seems fitting that I had become lean and slim from it.

I wrinkled my nose at the stains on my shirt, though a clean change of clothes wouldn't have helped me in my current situation.

"Elena Ardent. Age 25. Just moved here from Camden, Maine." One of the cops, the African American named Detective Griffin, pretended to read from a file in his hand. He tossed it down onto the metal table I was currently handcuffed to.

The other detective, Detective Burkhardt, sat across from me, watching me intently as any good detective would. He had been quiet since him and his partner had entered the room, only because he was studying me, trying to learn anything he could.

He had removed his coat. His dark hair juxtaposed his pale grey-blue eyes and fair skin. A light shadow of stubble poured across his face, making him look more mature. He would have been very attractive... you know, if he hadn't just arrested me.

"What'd you leave behind in Maine?" Detective Griffin asked suspiciously.

"A shitty job, an apartment with leaky pipes, and a jealous ex." I responded sarcastically, but the detective didn't seem to find the humor in it as he kept his serious face glued on under his manicured facial hair.

"Do you want to explain to us why we found you standing over a dead body, bloody, with the murder weapon in your hand?" Griffin interrogated, leaning his back against the one-way window of the room, crossing his arms over his chest and his legs at the ankles.

"Oh, I wish I could." I muttered facetiously to myself through a fake smile.

"How did you know the victim?" Burkhardt finally spoke up.

"Call it a... chance meeting." I replied, carefully wording my responses to each of their queries. "This is usually the part where I'd demand a lawyer, but I don't need one. I know how detectives operate."

"Do you now?" Burkhardt tested dubiously, almost amused as he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah. Thanks to lots of overconfidence, a Law & Order marathon on TNT, and the fact that I graduated top of my class from the police academy."

Their expressions shifted and they tried to hide the fact they were both taken aback. Griffin pushed his shoulders off of the window and approached the edge of the table.

"You're a cop?" He questioned.

"Detective Elena Ardent." I introduced casually to them, slumping in my chair, which was crazy uncomfortable. If I knew that I was going to have to sit in a metal chair, I wouldn't have worn shorts that allowed the pack of my thighs adhere themselves to the chair.

"Excuse us for a moment." Griffin said and Burkhardt stood to follow him to the door. They left the interrogation room, but I could still hear them just outside of the room. The room was relatively soundproof, but brushing my hair behind my ear, I could hear them faintly. Don't be weirded out. It's a Grimm thing.

"Detectives." An unfamiliar voice greeted. "You've already finished the interrogation?"

"Not exactly. She's still sitting in there." Burkhardt answered, nodding towards the room. I mean, just assuming he did. I have enhanced hearing, not x-ray vision.

"Then what's the matter?" The new voice, which was masculine in tone, wondered.

"She's a cop." Burkhardt explained. "A detective."

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