"I need to see you as soon as possible, Detective. They... look can you just get down here as fast as you can?"

She had gotten the message at five in the morning. Normally, she would be grumbling and complaining about being called out so early, but this was different. His voice sounded almost off to her, as if something was terribly, terribly wrong. So she packed up and got in the car, heading back towards the prison she had left only two days ago.

He was already waiting behind the glass when she sat down. His arms were bent, elbows resting on his knees, and his head was hung. Either his shoes were extremely interesting (or the chain that ran from one ankle to the other) or it was that bad. She was going to have to guess the latter.

"You sounded urgent over the phone." She dropped her badge and gun on the booth's table and leaned back as far as the phone chord would allow.

He lifted his head. His black hair fell in front of his cold eyes, and it only accentuated the pale tone of his face. He looks like he's seen a ghost. But the infamous smirk was still there. He leaned forward, eyes locking with hers. She tried not to let any uneasiness show on her face, no easy feat considering his gaze was practically all-seeing.

"Tell me, Detective. Ever been this close to a monster before?"

"You're not a monster, Myungsoo. There's no-"

"They set a date." He cut her off, obviously not listening to a word she was saying. She remained silent. So that's what he sounded so off about.

"On December 21st, I will be taken in front of the firing squad and shot dead." He looked down as he said this, and his face seemed to get even more pale, if that was possible.

"Hold on, don't go thinking it's over yet, okay? My team is so close to getting you another trial, and we're almost a hundred percent sure you'll walk."

"But you can't promise anything."

"I can never promise. But I'm telling you not to give up on us yet."

He seemed to be thinking about this for a moment. Hell, she could practically see the gears turning in his head. He was back to being the calculating boy she had met at her first visit.

"Alright. But if this doesn't work, don't pursue it anymore."

She couldn't argue with that.

Everything was quiet as the jury filed back into the room. After hours upon hours of deliberating, they had finally reached a decision. About time. Myungsoo's bottom lip was completely chewed up; his nerves obviously had gotten the better of him. As the stony-faced jury took their seats, he had to resist smirking. Just by one glance at their body language, you could tell they were unhappy. He stood up when the judge called him, that persistent smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Looks like the cards are in my favour.

He glanced behind him once. It was only brief - barely noticeable - but it was enough for him to see the three figures seated closest to the door, the shadows obstructing their faces from everyone else. He knew who they were instantly, and had the urge to smile wider. I must be pretty important if he actually showed up.

The judge quieted the court and sighed. He gave Myungsoo an even, yet disgusted look and opened his mouth, saying the two words most everyone didn't want to hear.

"Kim Myungsoo, the jury finds you not guilty."

Myungsoo made sure not to let a smile creep onto his face. He couldn't afford to relax now, it would ruin everything. He didn't want to destroy all her hard work. He wouldn't readily admit it, but some part of his brain said that he was actually fond of her. During his countdown to D-Day (Death Day, he called it, much to her protest), she had made visiting him a weekly event. She asked him so many questions - about his case, about his background, about him. He answered every question thoughtfully. 

Even though it wasn't in his best interest, Myungsoo found himself wanting to tell her more than he should. And that was definitely not good. He couldn't display affection towards the Detective. My head would be on his desk in a matter of minutes if he found out... It was why Myungsoo didn't glance at her when the judge delivered the verdict. It was why he didn't allow himself that little smile. He had to be careful - the last thing he needed was for this entire thing to fall apart at one little twitch of facial muscles. No one could afford for that to happen.

The judge rattled off a few more instructions. Keep in contact with your parole officer, don't leave the country, don't commit anymore crimes, blah blah blah. Does this man ever shut up? Myungsoo gave the judge a gaze that, to anyone else, would seem harmless, but it caused the older man to furrow his bushy eyebrows together and immediately want to gulp down a large glass of Scotch. He brushed it off with a 'kids these days' and went back to wrapping up the trial.

Myungsoo saw her outside the courtroom talking to one of the officers. She looked like she always did - brown hair tied back, same pant suit with her badge clipped on her belt and her gun next to it. She glanced up at him and smiled. Honestly, she wasn't surprised to see that he still had his normal poker face on, but she figured he must be at least a little bit happy. He just got off of death row, after all.

And he was, to an extent. He nodded curtly at her and went with the guards to get his personal belongings from the prison (not that he had much). He thought of how excited she looked, and couldn't help but feel a slight, annoying feeling of sadness. It was unfortunate he wouldn't see her again; too bad she's a cop.

Was a cop would actually be the more appropriate phrase.

"I expect your badge and your gun on my desk by noon tomorrow and your desk cleared. I don't want to see you in my precinct again - even if you've been arrested for something. Is that clear? Good, now go."

She was only a little surprised. She had, afterall, disobeyed direct orders and got involved with the Kim Myungsoo case. She didn't really think that was grounds for firing her, though. Maybe it had to do with the obvious contempt the chief had for her. Boss will always be a very fickle woman... The ex-detective sighed to herself and made her way back to her desk. Oh look - someone had conveniently left a cardboard box for her! Her former co-workers were all just so nice...

As happy as she was to be out of the suffocating precinct, she didn't know what she was supposed to do. She was already way behind on rent, and without a job eviction was just around the corner. She ruffled her hair and released a small groan. Life was not fair - not fair at all.

"Well, no use moping about it. My biggest worry should be getting all of my junk to fit in this tiny box..."

Ironically enough, the first thing in her hand was Kim Myungsoo's case file. She must have left it on her desk when she went to the trial. Her fingers shook slightly as she opened the manila folder.

The first thing to greet her eyes was his mugshot. "God, that smirk must be his natural expression." His bangs hung in his bloodshot eyes, much like they had when he told her they'd set a date. She continued to flip through his case file, her thoughts drifting back to the trial. Maybe...

No. There was no way he would want to see her again. Just because she had gotten him off death row didn't mean he would greet her with open arms. To Kim Myungsoo, she was still a cop; she was still dangerous. But as she looked once again at that cool, even, calculating gaze, her mind made itself up. Even if it was a long shot, it was still a shot.

She found him at a lake, skipping rocks across the water and scaring the geese. He heard her coming, but didn't turn to face her. He merely smiled.

"You wanted to see me, Detective?"

"Former Detective," she sighed. This caught his attention and he paused mid-skip to lower his arm and raise an eyebrow at her. "My boss fired me for getting you off death row."

"All that for me, huh?" His smirk was back on his face.

"Guess so," She shoved her hands in her coat pocket, mirroring his smirk. "Does this mean you owe me one?" Her breath fanned out in the chilled air. He shrugged.

"Guess we'll see." He smiled, and they both drifted into an awkward silence. Eventually (once he had run out of rocks) he sighed and walked over to her, stopping a few feet away and locking her gaze. They stayed like that, evaluating each other, until he decided to break the silence.

"So why did you want to see me? Surely you didn't miss me that much."

"Honestly?" This was where it got tricky on her end. He nodded; she sighed. "Honestly, I have no clue why I wanted to see you. I'm not even sure why I put in the effort to get you off death row."

"Then why'd you do it?"

"I don't bloody know!" In a moment of anger her British accent emerged, thoroughly amusing Myungsoo. He snickered and shook his head.

"There must be some reason."

"Look, all I know is I was fired from the best job I've ever had and I just found the eviction notice under my door this morning. I guess I figured 'what the hell.'"

"Eviction notice?" His smirk vanished for a split second. Once again, the gears behind his eyes were ticking rapidly. He's planning something. Nevertheless, she shrugged and shoved her hands further into her jacket pockets.

"Failed to pay rent. No job, no money, no rent."

"That won't do at all."

"You think?"

More silence. Then, "Maybe I can help."

"How so?"

"Well, it all depends on you," She merely raised an eyebrow, so he continued. "When you visited me in jail you mentioned free-running. How good are you?"

"Last time I checked, not bad." She had a feeling she knew where this was going.

He smiled and walked back to the lake shore. She turned to watch him, her eyes catching even the slightest twitch of his foot.

"You mentioned something about your father being, how did you put it, 'on the wrong side of the law?'"

"He was in a gang... sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Sort of."

"Then I'll cut to the chase - how good is your thieving?"

"Myungsoo, that's not exactly the best question to ask a former cop." She laughed, but he held his stoic expression. She sighed, giving in. "All right. My dad taught me how to pick-pocket and I got good at it. Haven't done it in a while though."

"It's like riding a bike - hard to forget." He smied and jogged back over to her.

"Why do you need to know this, Myungsoo?"

"Even if you don't want to admit it, you're here because you wanted me to help. I can give you a place to stay. Granted, you'll have to work for it but then again, everyone does."

"You're saying to come with you."

"Yes. But it's entirely your decision. You should know - I will only offer this once. You can come with me or not, it's up to you, but there's no room for changing your mind. If you refuse, you'll never see me again, Former Detective."

She chewed on her lip, mulling things over. Every professional part of her was screaming 'No! He's dangerous for Christ's sake!' But every other part of her being was telling her to go with it. She had lived life on the edge once - why not do it again? Life is short after all...

"I accept."

Myungsoo broke out into a mischeivous grin and grabbed her hand. He led her over to a black motorcycle she didn't see when she had walked up. He hopped on, barely waiting for her to sit behind him and grab onto his jacket before revving the engine and taking off.

No more than twenty minutes later and Myungsoo had driven them into the darker part of the city. Here, there was nothing but slums and lack of sunlight. It was known as the Dark District, appropriately. He drove down a street of large, steel buildings, each with an odd number painted in black on the doors. He brought the motorcycle to a stop in front  of the one at the end of the row.

A huge '9' was painted on the door. It didn't really stand out amongst the neighboring buildings - it was just as rusty and dilapidated as the others. But something about it made her heartbeat speed up and a cold sweat broke at the back of her neck. There was something about this place. It wasn't particularly eery just, strange.

"Let's go, Snitch."

"Snitch?"

"Your new nickname. Well, technically your new name period. It's the one I'm using to introduce you with."

"I guess that works then." She scoffed and he laughed, rolling his bike into the shadows by the steel building. She noticed an entire row of indentical motorcycles behind it and had to stop her jaw from dropping to the floor. Myungsoo noticed her expression and laughed some more. She was absolutely bewildered and he knew it.

"You'll get all the answers you want, Snitch. All in good time."

"You're really going to keep calling me that?"

"Like I said - it's your new name. Everyone's going to be calling you that, might as well get used to it now."

"Snitch... It fits, I guess."

"When we're inside, call me L. It's the name I prefer." He smirked at her and walked up to a smaller door in comparison to the garage-esque one the 9 was painted on. L pulled a chain out from under his shirt and slipped it over his head. Attached were what looked to be an entire set of lock-picking tools.

"I hope you can pick locks 'cause it's the only way in and out of this place."

"My dad might have taught me a thing or two. Is this what you meant when you said you had a place for me to stay?" She didn't know why she was asking the question when the answer was pretty obvious. She had a pretty good feeling she knew why they were at this place and what kind of people all those bikes belonged to.

It was the kind of people she thought she'd never be around again. She wasn't sure whether to feel nostalgic, excited, or nervous, so she settled on a mix of all three. L didn't answer her and swung the door open, gesturing her inside.

"Welcome to your new home, Snitch. This is The Warehouse."

-----------------------

Yes ladies (and gentlemen?) her name for now is Snitch. In case you were wondering, L came up with it from her police background. Yes, this name is here to stay... for a while. I have a plan, I promise.

Next chapter: Snitch takes her first steps inside The Warehouse, and meets L's "family," as he calls them. Some are quick to welcome her, some most definitely don't want her there, and some decide to wait and see how it all turns out. The figures from Myungsoo's trial make their second appearance, and everything all starts to make a little more sense - to a degree.

This chapter is unedited. (I had to rewrite the blasted thing 4 times so I'm really not checking for grammatical mistakes at this point)

Enjoy, lovelies!