The Other Side

by LMR

Summary: My first casefile! Hey, where are you going? A funny murder mystery with a cheesy romantic subplot. What more could you ask for? Okay so, a lot more, but that's what you're getting, goshdarnit! BA 'shippy. "Murder She Wrote" level violence and some mild language. Mystery, Humor, Romance

Okay, so I originally wrote this with minimal, subtle 'ship stuff like you'd see on the show. Well, I tried to keep them behaved, but they kept flirting, and staring and they just wouldn't listen to me so it kind of turned into a romance.

Also, they held me at gunpoint and made me work in one of those scenes where they go undercover as a couple.

And then another one.

I tried to stop them. Honest.

Chapter 1: The Part that Comes Before the Credits

xXx

In New York City's War on Crime the worst criminal offenders are pursued by the detectives of the Major Case Squad. These are their stories. Doink, doink.

It was only the second, and the month was already looking lousy.

"You think I'm clueless? I know your schedule. You're there right now, you always are." A pause. "No," the woman snapped into her cell, impatiently running her hand through her almost non-existently short brown hair. "You don't understand. I have the evidence right here," she slammed her hand down on a portfolio on her kitchen table. "And believe me, I will not hesitate to tell everyone. And then, everything that you've worked for, gone. Think about that. But don't think too long. I'll be there in half an hour." She hung up angrily, stashed the paperwork in her back and slung it over her shoulder, then checked her phone one last time. 10:30. She had to be at the office by 11:00 a.m. She stashed the damning paperwork in her bag, and headed out the door, wondering if the rest of stinkin' April was going to be this stinkin' miserable.

This was a woman who was determined. This was a woman who was confident. This was a woman who was too stupid to realize that it is absolutely suicidal to blackmail somebody in the opening scene of a crime drama. I mean, come on, lady: You might as well wear a red shirt on Star Trek! You would go to the basement during a power outage to find the cat, wouldn't you?

Guess who's body is going to get discovered in 5...4...3...2...

xXx

Winston Weaselman and his business associate, Zed "Z" Klutz, had been having trouble with their blood pressure lately and had decided to start jogging early every morning before work. It relaxed them, gave them a way to argue about who was more macho (read as "slightly less likely to collapse after ten yards"), and more importantly, it gave them a chance to debate and discuss deep intellectual and philosophical insights.

"No, really, Zee." Winston said, "I'm telling you: The fact is that a factiod isn't a little fact, it's something that isn't a fact that everyone passes off as a fact until everyone believes that it is, in fact, a fact."

Zed looked puzzled for just a moment, then seemed to understand. "So you're saying that the fact that a factoid is a fact is, in fact, a factoid?"

"Yes!" Weaselman said excitedly, happy that his companion had grasped the point. "But the really important thing to remember is th..." his voice trailed off and his face turned the color of bad cheese. "Oh my God," he whispered. He pulled out his cellphone and dialed 911. "I can't look," he said, staring.

His companion followed his eyes to the young woman collapsed next to the sidewalk, clearly dead and surrounded by blood.

Doink, doink, doo-doo-doo-doo-doo! Doink, doink, doo-doo-doo-doooo-doo!

xXx

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