When Sek first arrived at RCPD's detective unit, they assumed they were getting fresh cases. They were wrong — one of the previous detectives apparently had gone on a sabbatical, and had received an absolute mountain of cases on their new desk labelled for 'Detective Xiaolong'.

Well, they were for Detective Sek now.

They didn't mind because work was work and things needed to be wrapped up, but it was the principle of the thing. Working cases solo instead of establishing relationships, work partnerships, and making one's presence known was not the best start to a new beginning. Sek wouldn't openly admit it, spirits no, but they were lonely. The work was fascinating, but Sek couldn't simply replace the bonds and the friendships they left behind in Ba Sing Se.

One thing Sek did correctly predict though, was the back and forthing between the basement's records and their own desk. So much so that they got leg day in every day, and only had to work their upper body and arms in their actual exercise regime.

Climbing up the steps to the main office, they were so absorbed by the file they were reading they failed to notice the person coming down, and promptly smashed into them with all their weight. Sek lost their balance, dropping the case file and only just catching themselves by gripping the rail.

"Son of a sand shark!" Standing themselves back upright, they came face to face with a woman with the most piercing grey eyes they have ever seen.

Hang on.

Grey eyes. Freckles. Gap tooth.

Finally, it clicked.

"Are you Miss Yao? Were you working with Detective Xiaolong? His cases got, well, I have his caseload now. Can I help you?"

Still rubbing her shoulder, Ling looked at the person she crashed into, eyes wide at the sudden utterance of her name.

"I... "

For the first time in quite a long time, Ling felt very much wrong footed in a way that had nothing to do with burgeoning romance. She pursed her lips, furrowing her brow.

This person had Xiaolong's caseload? Something didn't feel right; not that she doubted their word, but something about Xiaolong's sudden disappearance stunk to high heaven. She bent down to help the detective pick up their papers.

"I wasn't aware that Detective Xiaolong had submitted a case for me," she said lightly. The fact that his replacement knew about her was disconcerting, at the least. She and Xiaolong had agreed to keep things under wraps until they had gotten enough evidence to bring the case to the department without involving the gang.

She held out a few papers, resisting the urge to glance down and read them. "But I'd be more than happy to discuss the details somewhere ahh..." her eyes flicked upward at the imposing "REPUBLIC CITY POLICE" carved into the stonefront of the building, "... somewhere else."

"Not a case file," Sek corrected, taking the file from Ling's hands. "More like... a note. When he went on his sabbatical, I took over his desk... quite literally. Everything he has and was working on is now under my purview. I do apologise if I have made you uncomfortable, it was not my intention. Let me introduce myself: I am Detective Sek Hei-Ming, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Very briefly, an unchecked thought passed through their brain, commenting on how adorable Ling looked while pursing her lips: Sek, in response, was not best pleased. It was incredibly unprofessional to think such a thing, and incredibly untrained to let such a thought pass through unchecked.

Tuning back into the present world, they watched as Ling grew slightly uncomfortable, especially so when she glanced up at the building name above their heads. Sek supposed that while they, personally, find comfort in such a building, others do not. A terrible shame, really, considering police stations should be a refuge to all, not for the lucky few.

"I will gladly take you up on that offer. You can either wait for me outside here while I grab my metalbending gear and handcuffs, or you can meet me at the Brass Trombone bar, it's not far from here."

The knot of anxiety in her belly slowly started to unwind as the new detective hastened to reassure her that Xiaolong hadn't submitted anything through official channels, and offered to meet at the local bar, the Brass Trombone. Like all buildings outside of the Dragon Flats District, the Brass Trombone was more upscale than what Ling was used to; though, after the Golden Fan, most places were.

"Sure," she said, flashing another smile. "I'll meet you there."

—

She sat at a back table, outwardly cool and collected. While she was more at home saddled up to the bar, that also increased the chance of being overheard — the bartender, other patrons — and it was just too much risk. Especially in a cop bar. She glanced around surreptitiously, looking completely at ease as she surveyed the number of RCPD officers, in uniform and not, milling about.

Next meeting, if there is one, she thought grimly, is at the office.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the door to the bar opened to reveal the detective she was waiting for. Their short stature was immediately noticeable amongst their taller colleagues, and though their dark skin and dark hair were commonplace for anyone of Earth Kingdom descent, the shrapnel around their left eye set them quite noticeably apart.

Ling waved casually, careful to keep her expression friendly, and gestured to the empty booth in front of her.

The Brass Trombone was an obvious choice: yes, it was a cop bar, but it'd be the only place where two people could be left alone in relative peace. If they went to the Rainbow & Spirit, they'd get hit on, for better or for worse. On top of that, it was far far quieter in here, the only noise being the regulars loudly chatting and commenting on the Pro Bending playing on the radio. Compared to the loud music and bodies of the Rainbow & Spirit, this was a far superior choice.

As they entered the bar, they immediately spotted Ling, standing (or sitting, in this case) out like a sore thumb. Sek could tell that they were doing their best to be outwardly cool and collected, but sometimes not being a cop in a cop bar made someone stand out more than anything.

At Ling's wave, they waved back, and flagged down the nearest bartender. It wasn't long until they were walking to the booth Ling was sitting at with a jug of water, a pack of ice, and two glasses.

"Feel free to help yourself, Miss Yao, and I thank you for taking up the chance to meet with me." Politeness and honesty were two traits that were sadly rare for officers and detectives in this day and age, so Sek tried their damnedest to act the best. "Now, going through Xiaolong's notes was like trying to tie down a greased up pig-squirrel, so hopefully, this conversation of ours should clear up any confusion."

They leaned in, dropping their voice down just a notch. "If you're worried about being overheard, don't, the ruckus from the Pro Bending match will cover the majority of the conversation." As they said this, a chunk of the bar cheered loudly as a commentator described the Lizard Crow's earthbender falling off the platform.

Sek leaned back to give Ling some space, and applied the bag of ice to their facial wound: this caused Sek to breath a long sigh of relief.

Pouring herself a cup of water, Ling also ordered whiskey, neat. It was a bit early, but her tolerance was high and it felt bizarre to only drink water at a bar — infested with police or not.

The detective leaned forward conspiratorially, reassuring her that they wouldn't be overheard, before leaning back and resting the provided bag of ice on their injured eye. Ling's eyes flicked briefly to the shrapnel before settling on the officer's face.

Unbidden, details began filing themselves away in her mind: the detective spoke with a slight accent, indicating they were a recent transplant to the United Republic, though Ling couldn't place the accent itself; the skin around the shrapnel wound looked old, scarred over, so it wasn't a recent injury; the detective was also several years older than her, perhaps between thirty and forty years old. They seemed completely at ease, but their tone seemed to suggest a more unyielding nature.

Ling also couldn't help but noticing how their green eyes, so very unlike Jia's, sparkled at the prospect of a new case. They weren't bad to look at either, even considering the shrapnel embedded in their face. In fact, it kind of completed the look, in a way.

Hm.

"Well, before we move on to details," Ling said after a few moments of silence, sipping her water, "Your name might be nice. You know mine, apparently, so it's only fair."

She gave a small, teasing smile, not showing her teeth, to show that she meant it in a pleasant way rather than a sarcastic one. Her whiskey arrived, and Ling accepted it gratefully. The liquid burned her throat pleasantly as she took a sip; it was a nicer sort than they served at the Fan. Perhaps she'd have to talk to Katsumi about updating their selection.

Sek would've joined in on Ling's drinking, but alas, they were still on duty. Never have they ever drank purposefully on a shift, and they refused to break that streak.

They tilted their head as Ling seemed to process their being. Not that they blamed them, they did look rather unusual for a Republic City citizen, between the accent and the metal in their face. In turn, Sek studied Ling, and committed the details to memory. Her accent had none of the signifiers of any of the four major continents, but rather a blend that Sek learnt to be the Republic City accent. The stunning grey eyes and the freckles made for a really intriguing combination, and Sek couldn't look away as those set of eyes flitted around the room, taking everything in and processing the details.

Sek always appreciated a woman who had a sharp mind. This made her smirk slightly, the corner of their lips turning up a little.

"My name is Detective Sek Hei-Ming, and yes, I follow the traditional naming rule of family name, then forename. If you prefer in-formalities, you can call me Sek... for now." They readjusted the ice pack on their face just so that they could pour themselves a glass of water just a touch easier. "For the record, I am neither a woman or a man, regardless of the way I dress. If you can, refer to me with gender neutral pronouns and terms, I'd greatly appreciate it."

Sek Hei-Ming. The name had a melodious quality to it — or was that just the speaker?

Ling nodded as they explained their gender identity and pronouns, shrugging a little bit. "No problem." It didn't bother her any; her mother frequently lapsed into a regional language that didn't even have gender-specific pronouns, so nothing about the exchange seemed extraordinary.

She sipped her whiskey again, feeling warm to her toes. The winter chill had yet to let up, and while the snow had so far melted, Spring was still a long way off. Gesturing with her glass for emphasis, Ling spoke quickly, her tone low.

"My sister and I run a private detective agency, so any questions about how this case wound up on my desk — or any questions about my client, or that could lead to the discovery of the identity of my client — are off limits."

She grinned, as if it were impossible to keep a smile from her face for too long. Her tone was light and conversational, slightly coy, as if she were speaking of long walks on the beach and gazing at stars and not a serious case that needed police involvement.

"Xiaolong was helping me run down a lead. My client has no desire for police involvement, though we have agreed that should it be necessary to do so, the proper authorities would be notified. They are... unaware I have reached out to the RCPD, and quite frankly I hope the resolution is peaceful and benign enough that we don't have to officially file a report."

Already she was speaking of the case as 'we'; Ling paused for a split second, wondering what made her assume that Detective Sek would work with her — or she with Sek. Pushing the thought aside, she continued.

"An acquaintance of my client was found murdered about a month ago, right around the New Year." Ling had moved her glass in front of her mouth as if she were taking another drink, but no whiskey passed her lips; she was simply blocking any observers from reading her lips. "My sources tell me that while the body has been identified, it has not been claimed, and no one has stepped forward to claim responsibility, not even any of the Triads.

"Xiaolong confirmed some of my suspicions, and made a few observations. I have the casefile back at my office if you'd like to meet up there later so we can go over the details, but suffice it to say he and I followed the lead to High Street Boroughs. As I'm sure you can appreciate, once we got that far everything dried up."

The High Street Boroughs were the bane of private investigators and RCPD detectives alike. Money smoothed things over like... things that make things smooth... and there was a mixture of both old money and new money in that district. Some old friends in high places could make troublesome events, and pesky investigations simply disappear.

"And that's where we are, Detective Sek." Their surname moved past her lips languidly, sweetly. "What do you think?"

Sek listened to Ling's entire story, making sure they focused on the entirety of her face and her body language, and not just her lips. It had been a long while since Sek had been drawn to a woman this fast; they were trying their best to repel it. It was, frankly, unprofessional, and at best, possibly rude towards Ling.

When Ling finished her speech, Sek didn't immediately respond. Instead, they considered the entire story while they rubbed at their lips with their finger. A few quiet, possibly awkward, minutes passed before they spoke up.

"That's certainly a case you got there." They took a sip from their drink, allowing themselves to slowly swallow. "For me to do my job effectively, I'll need to know as much context as possible. Sometimes the littlest details can explain the largest things, and I need those little details to solve the larger puzzle."

"Second of all, we play this by the book. Just because we're not officially filing a report doesn't mean we can act like lawless heathens that think they know best. The moment that we think we can get away with anything because we're supposedly acting like we're performing in everyone's best interest, is the same moment where everything begins to spiral downwards."

"Don't worry about the High Street Boroughs though — that place does not scare me. They think they're above law and justice because they have money to throw about, and contacts that make them believe they're untouchable like the Avatar. Wouldn't be the first time I've had to bring corrupt socialites to their senses, and I sadly doubt it's gonna be the last."

"So, what do I think?" They removed the ice pack from their face, and leaned forward. "I know I'm interested. I think we need to pool our resources and skills. Do you have anywhere where you can openly discuss this case without fear of eavesdropping?"

"Our offices are in the Dragon Flats," she said, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out a business card. The gold-embossed letters read Yao Sisters Detective Agency, followed by her name and the office address and phone number. "Feel free to stop by anytime." There was a certain emphasis on the last work; Ling wasn't quite sure if she meant anything by it, but of course, she would have to talk to Jia either way.

Then, Ling raised her whiskey glass in a toast. "You got it, Detective," she said, her eyes dancing. "Entirely by the book." Her tone was playful. Of course, 'by the book' hadn't ever really been her calling card, but when in the Earth Kingdom, do as the Earth Kingdomers do. Or, well, United Republic. Something.

She polished off her drink and leaned back comfortably in her seat, arms behind her head as her eyes scanned the room. "I'm not afraid of High Street," she said with a wry grin. "But a poor Dragon Flats PI doesn't exactly have the clout or resources to pursue leads on her own, which is where Xiaolong came in. At least, not if I wanted to do it by the book."

Ling stood then, fishing out a few yuans and setting them next to her glass. She leaned in briefly, her voice low and warm. "I'll be at the office this afternoon, at two o'clock. Maybe I'll see you then."

Accepting the proffered card, Sek ran a thumb over the golden script. They already had an answer for Ling, but then they registered the low tone she used on them, and goosebumps rose all the way up their arms and down their neck. By the time they had come to their senses, Ling was long gone. They let out a long sigh.

I suppose I'm heading to her office at 2pm, then.

—

If anybody gave Sek a meet up time, they were always on time, no matter what. This was also true for today: they had finished their shift and paperwork in a timely manner, and gave themselves plenty of time to commute to the Dragon Flats district. The moment their watch struck 2pm on the dot, they were knocking on on the wood-and-glass door that marked the residence of Yao Sisters Detective Agency.

To be honest with themselves, Sek was... impressed with Ling in general, and not just physically. From their brief conversation earlier, Sek had Ling pinned for a sharp private eye with a mind for puzzle solving. The fact that they cleaned up a little was besides the point, they did it to maintain an aura of professionalism, not to impress attractive women. Not that Sek considered Ling attractive, well, she is, but professionalism is key.

They adjusted their yellow scarf and smoothed out the creases in their traditional Earth Kingdom green dress shirt, and waited for someone to answer the door.

Mei-zhen was supposed to have come into work today, but she was at home, fast asleep. It was astounding how much she snored (despite her adamant objections that she did not) and really, it was much better than her doing so at her desk in the office. Besides, the poor thing had worked a week straight. With the healing clinic being in the Dragon Flats District, many of the lesser-injured victims of the Temple attack had sought follow-up care with Mei-zhen and her mentor... who, of course, paid a pittance, and only sometimes. Why this occurred during the latest hours of the night, Ling wasn't sure, but she suspected that a majority of them had been unable to stop working during daylight hours to rest and recover.    

So Ling had let her sleep, tiptoeing down the hall and out of the apartment, taking care to step over the squeaky floorboard by the front door — not that Mei-zhen would have heard her, sawing logs like that, but she didn't want to take the risk. Knowing her big sister, Mei-zhen would have insisted on coming in.

It worked out anyway; her meeting with Xiaolong had turned into a meeting with the very intriguing Sek Hei-ming, who would be arriving at the office any minute.

Feeling a sense of nervousness that had nothing to do with the case, Ling had hurried back to the office to try and make it look presentable. Mei-zhen, in addition to her organising skills, was the neater of the two Yao sisters, and in her absence Ling's mess had gradually, inexplicably spread beyond the confines of her desk. While not on par with Mei-zhen's cleaning skills, after a few hours the room looked halfway decent. She placed a quick call to Jia, who wasn't home, and left out the back door to toss out a bin very full of discarded Flame-o Noodle bowls, premade rice boxes, and lots and lots and lots of steam bun wrappers.

She had just come back inside when there was a knock at the door. Her grey eyes flew to the clock hanging on the wall behind Mei-zhen's desk: two o'clock, on the dot. Hoping she hadn't picked up the fumes of the dumpster, Ling quickly rummaged in Mei-zhen's top left drawer for the small vial of aftershave she had. It belonged to their father, and while Mei-zhen kept it for sentimental purposes, Ling had never been more grateful to see it. Dabbing a small drop behind each ear, she replaced the bottle and shut the drawer gently.

"Hi," she said, opening the door with a small flourish, hoping the aftershave wasn't too overwhelming. It had a musky, slightly sandalwood smell to it that filled her with nostalgia. "Please come in."

She gestured to the wooden straight-back chair in front of her desk as she shut the door behind them. The office, she knew, looked straight out of those cheap detective novels selling for a hundredth of a yuan at flimsy newsstands: weathered wooden floors and desks, white-painted wooden venetian blinds covering the windows (with the obligatory one blind that didn't fall properly), and a certain dinginess that hinted at a business that did enough money to cover the costs of its owners personally and professionally, but not much else.

With a few quick strides, Ling joined Sek, sitting in the creaky rolling chair on the other side of her desk. The file for the case sat in front of her neatly.

"Thanks for coming," she said, flashing her signature grin. "Can I get you anything to drink? Water, or perhaps a fizzy drink?" She gestured to the tea service by her sister's desk, which from her perspective was along the right hand wall of the office, perpendicular to her desk which faced the door. "Or tea, if you'll excuse the taste of it. My sister usually takes care of that, since my teas always wind up tasting burnt."

When Ling had opened the door, Sek immediately smelled the aftershave the younger woman had put on: not in the negative manner, oh no, it was just noticeable since she was wearing none earlier. Honestly, the smell was rather pleasant: Sek did always prefer muskier, more Earthen scents. The fact that it was on Ling made Sek love the scent even more.

For the briefest moment, Sek's brain ran wild and unrestrained. They thought of burying their face into Ling's neck and taking a deep inhale. They thought of other things too, all of which were unprofessional and made Sek very frustrated at themselves, and very annoyed at Ling for being very much their type.

Instead of verbally vomiting like a teenage boy chatting to a woman for the first time, they thanked Ling for answering the door and took the offered seat across from the Private Eye's. Personally, Sek didn't mind that the office was a bit dingy. Yes, it reminded them of the trashy mystery novels that people fawned over, but it felt well-earned and well-used, and Sek appreciated that.

They placed Xiaolong's old notes on this case on the desk, and their own notepad and pencil next to it. "I'll have some water, thank you." To make sure they didn't stare as Ling left to get drinks, they read through the old notes, tapping their thumb on their lip as they waited. Something about a Mr. E, Mr. M and Mr. S?

Honestly, detectives should know to write context with their notes.

Once Ling had sat down at her desk again, they asked: "are there any more details you can divulge to me? Context is so incredibly important, especially if you want this job done right."

In the corner of the office was a small refrigerator. Ling pulled a couple of handle-less teacups from the tea service and poured a cup of cold water for both herself and Sek. When she returned to the desk, the detective was poring over the case file with interest.

"Are there any more details you can divulge to me? Context is so incredibly important, especially if you want this job done right."

Ling sighed, but it was not at her companion. "That's just it. All the leads went belly up and Xiaolong apparently had a connection in High Street Boroughs. I have no idea who the initials belong to, that's what I've been trying to get ahold of him for." She sighed again, exhaling in an upward manner that caused her bangs to flutter. "We were supposed to meet up weeks ago, and he didn't want to put his connection there in trouble — some woman he knew as a child, though if you ask me there was something going on there, if you catch my drift. So he put everything in initials."

She dragged her index finger down the page — or up the page, from her perspective — until it came to a single abbreviation, with no honorific prefix. "This woman. Seiya? Saiya? He had me change into the most ridicolous set of coattails I have seen in my life before we went to question her." Ling rolled her eyes. "I say 'question', but it was really more a friendly conversation. We parted ways after that, and Xiaolong sent me this a day later with a note that he was going to investigate more when he could."

Taking a sip of water, the freckled woman shrugged. "I've been trying to get ahold of him for a couple of weeks now, but he hasn't been answering his phone. Now I know why." She glanced briefly at the woman in front of her, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth unbidden. She quickly schooled her face into a more serious expression. "Of course, there's always the possibility that his sabbatical isn't ... ah... voluntary."

She paused, hesitating, but then decided to take the plunge. In for a penny, in for a yuan.

"I suspect it's drugs," Ling said bluntly, the warmth gone from her tone. "The victim was found with an unidentified white powder under his fingertips, as you can see from the coroner's report, and that Saiya woman was saying something about some sort of den or another. It could be singular, or it could be any number of combinations. My sister is a healer, and she says that there seems to be a keen interest in their stock of anesthetics, to the point where they've begun to keep it under lock and key." She shook her head. "I've also been hearing rumours about some hoity-toity high society types coming down here looking real nervous. You know, they don't really particularly like rubbing elbows with us."

She smiled but there was no humour. "And they stick out like sore thumbs, anyway. Half of them don't even bother trying to disguise themselves or their fine clothing, and the other half borrow servants garments but can't help but turn up their nose at anyone they pass."

When Ling had finished speaking, Sek stayed quiet. They took a moment to process all the information, before grabbing their notepad and began to construct an idea bubble, with lines towards each possible idea and/or theory. As soon as they had finished writing down the important parts of what Ling had said, they moved to the corkboard and pinned the piece of paper up.

"Right. First things first: the victim. Can you tell me his name? Did the coroner's report include a full autopsy? If he was a drug user, his body should tell us the extent of damage, what drugs, and how long he used them for." Sek turned to face Ling to continue their point. "To continue on with that, who is this person? Does he have a record? What was his social class? Do we have anything on him other than the fact that he's dead? And to think about it, the drugs under his fingernails may be entirely unrelated, or planted. We have to remember to take that into account."

"The initials are intriguing though. If drugs are involved, I can spend an afternoon in RCPD's basement and cross-reference the richer residents with records in the High Street Boroughs, and see if any of them have a record on - or got questioned about - the purchase, usage or trafficking of illegal drugs." Sek then pointed towards the next bubble on their sheet, which read DENS in block script. "The RCPD has noticed an increase of the higher society abusing drugs, and hitting up dens all over. Most of them think they can get away with it because they have the money to pay off whomever necessary, or they're that far down the badgermole hole that drugs is the only way they can relax or shut off to the world."

"I remember Xiaolong had a note," they pinned said note to the corkboard, "mentioning that the initials may be the same person. Which is an interesting theory, if it pans out, it may be a pre-meditated murder instead of a possible drug-induced accident, or drug-related murder. Did the victim have any known enemies that you're aware of?"

With plenty of questions presented, they stepped back from the corkboard and let Ling take the spotlight. If Sek was honest: it was refreshing to be able to talk to a live body about a case for once, especially one who was just as invested as they were.

Ling grinned, but her expression was a carefully cultivated empty one. Years of playing — and excelling — at poker and various other games, not to mention running a small little con that hinged on her ability to bluff, made her blank face inscrutable to all but the most seasoned of card players. And, even then, they weren't always able to figure her out.

"Sorry, detective," Ling said, her tone pleasant. "I can't tell you anything about this person other than the fact his name was Shi Yon. He has no record to speak of."

Which was true. Shi Yon, her crew mate's given name, was clean. The name he was known by to the police was Lucky — an ironic nickname, since his last name was written with the character that usually meant 'death'... or four. Which, by cruel fate (or cruel parents, more like), was also the number associated with his first name. Since he had no family ties to speak of, Lucky's birth name was never connected with his more criminal ties.

"As far as his social class, he was a resident of the Dragon Flats District." Her look clearly indicated that this information should suffice. "And as far as enemies..." Here Ling shrugged. "Not that I, nor my client, are aware of."

Which was technically true. Lucky was not directly the target of any Triad, and freelanced enough jobs that he wasn't specifically associated with the gang to the general underworld's knowledge. If it had been anyone else, it would have been easy to write it off as part of a turf war, but Lucky kept himself in everyone's good graces.

Well... Ling glanced briefly at Lucky's face, ashen even through the sepia photograph. Almost everyone's.

"My current theory" said Ling, meeting Sek's eyes unflinchingly, "is that our buddy Shi Yon over here was an ... unfortunate casualty of a larger problem. I mentioned that there have been rich folk down here, and the possibility of dens. I think someone is experimenting with a substance, or various substances, and using Dragon Flats residents as test subjects. Which, of course, would mean that there could be more victims with a similar fate, but all from the area of the city which would lead the police to gloss over their deaths as an inevitable due to an unfortunate walk of life."

Her tone was very matter-of-fact, rather than insulting; whatever sort of cop Sek was, it was no secret that the RCPD as a whole tended not to pay too much attention to the mostly nonbender residents of the Dragon Flats District.

"If the murder was premeditated, then I feel it still points to the same thing; I can say that Shi Yon in life was clean as a whistle — never even so much as a drop of alcohol, which for this part of the City is a rare find, believe me. My client assures me that at the time of their last meeting, which was a few days prior to the discovery of his body, that Shi Yon was his normal, sober self."

As Sek listened, they jotted down all the important notes on the current thinking board. And soon enough, they had devised some plan of action.

"The recurring theme here is drugs." Sek tapped on the word DRUGS that was written in the very same block script. "We should follow up with your theory. I can cross reference high society users, with known dens, and see if any deaths have happened in the Dragon Flats area that have the same drugs in or around their body. If more bodies have popped up, we know we have a problem on our hands. And we can narrow the search area down."

Sek wasn't offended by Ling's matter-of-fact tone. The law is infallible, but the people who serve it are not. They're all humans, and they all make mistakes, some far larger than others. It's a matter of instilling balance and bringing things back on track.

"And frankly, the way the RCPD treats the Dragon Flats district is horrid. The law is meant to serve everybody, not just the select few. We can't pick and choose who we dole out justice to solely on where they live, or how much money they earn in a fiscal year. I have been working on correcting this as soon as I arrived, and if I have to take on every single suspicious death in the Dragon Flats district, spirits be damned I will." It was the honest truth, and when they finished their sentence, there was a passion burning bright and true in their eyes.

"Regardless," they cleared their throat. "What are you doing tonight? If you're not tired already, we can get some boots-to-the-pavement sleuth work going after I've gone through the RCPD archives to find connections. If I manage to find a connection, we can go knocking on some dens."

Sek's ready agreement to criticism of the police force made Ling smile. Good. Xiaolong was a bit too enamoured with the force and didn't quite comprehend why she didn't wholly trust him. The fact that Sek was capable of acknowledging that the force was not only corrupt but biased was a mark in their favour.

She shrugged when the detective asked her about her plans. "I have to check in with a few people, but otherwise I'm free." After all, she and Jia hadn't finalised any plans, and it'd had been so long since she'd made any progress on the case... Jia wouldn't be thrilled, obviously, but Ling felt like she couldn't pass up this opportunity.

Fiddling around in her desk drawer, she took out a small index card; a pen materialised out of nowhere, and Ling scribbled something down, blew on the ink, then handed the card to the detective. "My home number." Like all telephone numbers, Ling's was the abbreviated name of her neighbourhood followed by four digits. "I don't have an answering service here at the office, so if you want to contact me after hours it's best to call this number instead."

She paused, then frowned. "Do you have a vehicle?" she asked. "I usually rent one for job-related outings but it's a bit short notice; and, depending on how long this takes us the trains may have stopped running by then, and I don't have the spare cash right now to afford a taxi from High Street Boroughs back here — not that any taxis working High Street would want fare down to Dragon Flats." Ling laughed good-naturedly.