The Analyst

𝚇𝚅: 𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎

TRIGGER WARNING: USE OF THE WORD WHORE
PR𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃.

"You'll never find me. You're just a whore." She says into the phone.

"How am I a whore, Chieko?" I ask, waving my hand in a circular motion towards Daichi. I wouldn't be able to keep her on long, so he needed to speed up and track this call.

"You just sit around and do nothing! Then you get a case and you get a little bit a fame, and then you get another one! You're just an attention whore!" She screams. A gun shot is heard before the line goes dead.

"Chieko? Chieko? Damn. Daichi, please tell me you got traced it?"

"Parking garage, corner of Fifty-sixth and Center."

"You're a god."

"I know."

(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)

She screamed and kicked as the police shoved her in the car. I almost felt bad for her. All of this, the killings, the toying, the prostitution. All to get back at her father.

As I walk away, my job here done, my phone rings in my pocket. I nimbly take it out, putting on my business voice.

"Hello?"

"Agent (L/N)?" A male voice asks in fluent English. I recognize it anywhere.

"This is she, am I speaking with Agent Noah?" I ask, also in English.

"You sure are, you dumbass." He says.

"Words like that could break a woman's heart, Noah." I say.

"Only because I said them." I can hear the smirk on his face through the phone.

Noah Sullivan, my American counterpart, ran the BAU department of the FBI in, you guessed it, America. He and I had gotten close over the years ever since I helped him crack an over hundred year old cold case. The killer wasn't even on the suspect list, turns out he died in a dog attack or something.

He would call me on a normal basis, to catch up and see how I was doing. Many times, he would ask my advice on a case.

"So how are you doing? Got a boyfriend slash girlfriend yet?" He asks me. I watch everything around me as I walk out of the parking garage.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend or anything in between." I debate whether or not to tell him about Shoto. "Well there is a guy." No going back now.

"Do tell." Noah says. I can hear the creak of his office chair as he leans back and the click of his loafers as he props his feet up on his desk.

"He told me he was in love with me. We had just gotten back from dinner with his father and he told me he was in love with me." I explain.

"Woah woah, you went to dinner with his dad and you aren't dating?" I realize I haven't given enough information.

"We had met maybe four of five days before, at a party. Then, a day or so later, he asks if I would go to dinner with him and his father and act as his girlfriend to please his dad." I explain in more depth.

"Ah I see now. What did you say when he said he loved you?" That is what I loved about Noah. He always gave you his full attention when talking to you.

"I told him I wasn't ready for a relationship."

"And what did he say?"

"He said he would wait for me and that I was the one for him." Noah whistled.