Serialized || HS

Good

Do you guys think you can get each chapter to 20 votes? I think you can! Anyways here goes the story! 

"You're seriously going to have me sit in here and wait until Styles and Payne return with Darrell?" I was pacing around the conference room. Normally Harry and I would be sat here trying to figure out the time between the victims, or the locations of the bodies. Why am I saying 'normally'? In the two days I've been sat in this room with Harry that's what we would have been doing. 

"Yes. Yes we are," Zayn sat on the other side of the table watching me pace. 

Niall and Louis had been sent to continue interviewing families of the victims and potential witnesses, while Claudia came in once or twice to drop files off to Zayn. Essentially I was alone with one of the two people who didn't want me here the most. 

"So Malik," I stopped my pacing, and took a seat across from the lanky, tan, fellow, "What about me makes you distrust me so much? Is it my work ethic? My resume? Or maybe it's the fact you watched me beat your superior as a female?" I probed. 

"You're not part of this team. You won't be part of this team. I have no time to waste on someone who will be in and out of here like Liam's next girlfriend. I'd rather focus my time and energy on what needs it." he didn't even have the deceny to look up at me while he tried to insult me. And Liam at that. 

"Well currently your time is being spent with me, so why don't you just waste a little, itsy bitsy, amount of energy on me," I argued, grabbing one of the mugs from the middle of the table, and walking over to the freshly brewed coffee. If you could even call it that. 

One thing I missed greatly from D.C. is the coffee. Brits are apparently big tea drinkers. I should've probably looked that up before I came. 

"How many years you been here?" I asked. 

"Five," He quickly responded, "Was in the military when they pulled me up through the ranks to get me this cushy job hunting maniacs." 

"Well would you lookie here we have something in common. I've been with the FBI for five years. Which means you understand I'm good at my job and I know that there had to be some reason for you to be moved up so quickly. For me it was my skills, both in combat and in reading a body, my knowledge, and my take-no-bullshit attitude. So agent, tell me, what can you do that's special?" 

I took my seat across from him once again and watched as he moved uncomfortably in his seat. He was like a panda trying to scratch its back against a tree. 

"I understand a crime scene," was his response. 

"What?" 

He rolled his eyes, thinking me incompetent, but I just wanted to know more about him. About all of these people who I was now being questioned by myself. 

He grabbed the file Claudia had brought in and slid it across the table for me to stop and open. 

"What do you see?" He asked. 

When I flipped open the cream colored folder I cringed at the grim photos of the crime scene. No matter how many times I looked at similar photos they could still cause me to gag. But I knew something was in the photos. A clue. I took a deep breath and began to scan through the scene. 

Several bodies, blood spatter, the murder weapon still lodged in one of the victims chest. 

"This was heated, angered madness. I see at least three victims. From the looks of it a mother and two young girls," it was never comfortable to see children murdered, "The children were easier to take out. He did it quickly, most likely out of sympathy and remorse for having to kill them," I closed the file and slid it back to Zayn.