"Morning, Myungsoo! Aren't you looking fine and dandy today!"

The fine and dandy  agent scowled. In an unceremonious manner, he dumped his notes on top of his desk and glared at his grinning colleague. "Spare me the comments, Woohyun. I'm not in the mood for your stupid jokes today."

Feigning an expression of childlike innocence, Woohyun twirled a pen in between his fingers. "What are you talking about? All I did was say hello."

Myungsoo shot another look  at his companion before turning away. Normally, he had a fair amount of patience when it came to Woohyun and his ridiculous commentary, but today, he seriously wasn't in the mood to deal with any wisecracks. First of all, his alarm had failed to ring that morning, causing him to be nearly late for work. Although Myungsoo hadn't been sleeping, he'd still missed the signal to get out of bed and into the shower... Which brought about the next point: Myungsoo had barely gotten any shuteye during the night. He'd tossed and turned like a restless wave in bed, unable to answer to the call of sleep. Although this time, it hadn't been because of the case. Oh no, it was something that bothered the agent much  more than the Mockingbird killer.

Mirror eyes on a sleepless night...

All night long, images had kept flashing in his head, alternating between one of daring hopefulness and another that was dark, unreadable, and too far to touch. They were images that seemed to be on the opposite sides of the world from each other, yet crowded his mind in an equally aggravating way.

'Lee Sungyeol. Lee Sungjong. Just what am I going to do with you guys...?'

It had happened yesterday, but the memory seemed as vivid as if it had occurred only a few minutes ago. Sungjong kissing him. Sungyeol standing at the end of the cemetery. Myungsoo unable to move, wondering what in the world was going on.  The scenes replayed themselves in the ravenet's head, over and over again until he was ready to scream and shout in frustration.

'What to do...'  Tiredly, Myungsoo sat down in his seat and closed his eyes. 'Maybe if I have time, I should ask Yongguk for advice. He seemed to know a lot about this... But does that mean Sungjong talked to him, too? Am I the only one who didn't know? Everything is so complicated, I don't even-'

His thoughts were interrupted by a certain chatty agent, whose bloated ego refused to let him be ignored. "So, Myunggie," Woohyun said. He pulled up a chair beside his friend's cubicle and plopped down on it. "How did yesterday with the brat go? Actually, you missed some pretty interesting stuff here at HQ. Did anyone tell you about Kahi's little discovery?"

"Don't call me Myunggie," the dark-haired man mumbled. He cracked his eyes open to glance momentarily at Woohyun. "It was... Fine. And no, I haven't heard anything about Kahi or whatever she found. What's the news with her?"

Woohyun didn't seem to notice Myungsoo's evasion of talking about his trip. "It's pretty big news, that's what it is. Well, it is to us on the Mockingbird case, anyway. You know how she's in charge of the birds, right? Like finding out where the heck the killer got those American birds? Apparently, Kahi got news yesterday of a police search down at Han River-" He broke off in mid-sentence, looking at something over Myungsoo's left shoulder.

"Hey, Sungjong! You're late!"

Myungsoo stiffened. Sungjong. The kiss. Lee Sungjong. Oh, crap.  Forcing a neutral expression on his face, the agent turned to see the slender male approach the two of them.

"Good morning, you two!" Sungjong paused beside Woohyun's chair. He gave his friends a beaming smile. "What's up?"

"Not much," Woohyun chatted while Myungsoo remained silent. He could only stare at Sungjong, wondering how he was managing such an easy-going expression. How could he smile like that, like everything was okay and nothing had happened between them? Had he not kissed and practically confessed his love for Myungsoo the day before? Had it been a dream, perhaps the result of working overtime and- dare he say it- thinking too much about a certain confusing rookie?

At that moment, Woohyun nudged his arm. Myungsoo realized he and Sungjong were both looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to add to their conversation.

Myungsoo coughed. "Umm, yeah, the bird. Woohyun was just telling me how Kahi made some big discovery on her end."

Sungjong nodded. "Yup, I heard about it from Sunggyu a few minutes ago. Freaky, isn't it? And I can't believe the trafficker was killed, too. We're gonna have to pick up the pace if we want to catch this guy. He sounds too clever at this game, if you ask me." He added a mock shiver for emphasis, then laughed in a friendly manner.

"Okay, I have to get going now. Chen is holding some more interviews today, and he needs my help." Sungjong turned towards Myungsoo. "That's what I'll be doing for a while, if you need to find me."

"... Yeah." Myungsoo slowly nodded his head. "Good luck with Chen."

"Thanks." Sungjong flashed him a brief smile before walking away. His footsteps made quiet thudding noises in the room, growing softer and softer until they finally ceased to exist at all.

Woohyun waited until the younger man had closed the door behind him, then shot Myungsoo a questioning look. "What was that all about?"

"What do you mean?" Myungsoo exhaled a breath.

"Oh, come on." Woohyun rolled his eyes. "Despite what you people say, I'm not the complete idiot you think I am. I'm talking about that, about you and Sungjong. What's going on between the two of you? Normally, you guys would still be talking about something, you know, in a comfortable, more cheerful, totally non-awkward way. But he practically just ran out of here, and you... You looked like he was about to chew your head off."

Thanks for that beautiful image, pal. "I don't know what you're talking about," Myungsoo replied in a low voice. He avoided Woohyun's eyes and stared instead at the pen on his desk. "Forget it, okay? Nothing happened between us."

"Sure. And I'm the bloody Queen of England," Woohyun scoffed. Standing up, he stretched out his arms and glanced one last time at the tired man. "I have to get started on my work now- Sunggyu's been on my back lately- so I'll leave you for the time being. But don't think that this is over, Myunggie. I'll find out what's the problem with you and Sungjong soon enough."

"..." Myungsoo was silent as the older man walked out of the room. He stayed motionless in his seat, not even moving to throw a goodbye after his leaving friend.

'Well, that's that.'  The ravenet stared down at his pen. 'If Woohyun can tell that there's something going on, then I'm screwed. Damn it all... Since when the heck did he become so perceptive?'

Letting out another heavy breath, Myungsoo briefly squeezed his eyes shut. Oh, what he would have done for some extra hours of sleep... But then again, Sunggyu would have killed him if he found the agent asleep at his desk (though he'd have no right to blame him, because it was- albeit partially- due to work that Myungsoo was so exhausted).

Ruefully shaking his head at the thought of the tyrannical CSI boss, Myungsoo forced his eyes open. But before he could attempt to pull himself together, the sound of the door opening reached his ears.

The agent paused. "Woohyun?" he called, not bothering to turn around. He assumed it was his wise-cracking friend returning. Most likely he had forgotten something on his way out- his notebook maybe, his phone, or his sense of work ethics. With what felt like his umpteenth sigh of the day, Myungsoo glanced over his shoulder. "What do you want this time-"

A cool, dismissive gaze met his own. "I wasn't aware that I was no longer welcome at my own desk."

"Err-" Myungsoo flushed. A sort of horror dawned upon him when he realized who his new companion actually was: Lee Sungyeol. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. What was he doing here?  Then Myungsoo felt like an idiot for asking himself that question. Of course the rookie would be here. He worked here. But still... First Sungjong, and now this guy... Where was that fool Woohyun when you needed him?

The dark-haired agent coughed, doing his best to cover up his awkward expression. "Good morning. I didn't think you'd be here so early."

Sungyeol didn't even look at him as he walked towards his cubicle (which Sunggyu had so generously decided to put next to Myungsoo's). "It's already half past nine."

"... Right." Myungsoo cleared his throat again. He tried searching for something else to say, but nothing intelligent came to mind. So in the end, he simply watched Sungyeol put away his belongings, then grab a different folder out of a drawer.

Obviously the newcomer had nothing to say to him, either.

Just as Sungyeol closed the drawer shut, Myungsoo spoke up unexpectedly.

"What were you doing at the cemetery yesterday?" he blurted out, almost to the surprise of himself. It was as if the words had formed in his mouth of their own accord.

The younger man, as usual, didn't look the least bit startled. "I don't believe that's any of your business."

Here we go again... Myungsoo tightened his jaw at Sungyeol's tone. What was up with him? He didn't want to admit it, but the coldness in his voice  was striking a raw chord in the agent's chest. The subtle annoyance in his expression wasn't helping any, either.

"What's your problem?" Myungsoo stood up. He was well aware that he was about to make a big fuss over nothing- it certainly wasn't  any of his business, after all. What Sungyeol did after work hours didn't have anything to do with him. But he was tired of playing these roundabout games. He was worn out, fed up, pissed off... And honestly, all he wanted was to know why the newcomer was being like this.

Myungsoo looked at him straight in the eyes. "It may be none of my business," he said quietly, "But I'm asking anyways. What were you doing there? Why weren't you at work? I didn't know you asked to take the day off as well-"

Bang!

Sungyeol slammed his notebook on the desk beside him. Startled, Myungsoo abruptly cut himself short. What the hell...? The agent stared at him in shock. This was certainly a surprise out of the blue. For the first time since Sungyeol had come to HQ, there was emotion besides irritation and smugness showing on his face.

The auburn-haired man spoke through barely gritted teeth. "Was I not clear when I said that wasn't any of your concern? I didn't ask what you were there for yesterday. I didn't mention how I saw yours and your friend's special moment. I'm not asking any questions about that. In fact, I don't care to. You don't have anything to do with me, and I don't want anything to do with you. Have I not made that obvious enough? Either that, or you're simply too ignorant to understand. Why do you insist on pestering me every time we meet?"

A tense silence settled between the two. It crept throughout the room like a suffocating sort of fog, touching the chairs, walls, and humming computers. Then:

"I'm worried about you." Myungsoo was, again, startled by the words coming out of him (he wasn't surprised that Sungyeol had seen Sungjong kissing him. A part of him had suspected the eagle-eyed rookie had witnessed that scene). Perhaps they were the result of those sleepless nights when he'd tossed and turned in bed, unable to shake the image of dark, apathetic eyes out of his head. Still, it was a relief to him. The words poured out of the agent like water from a dam, finally free to flow from their constraints. "I thought we were going well. You and me, I really believed we'd end up being good friends. But then all of a sudden, you started acting like you didn't even know me, like how you were during your first day here. And that's where we are now. Back to square one. What I want to know is: Why?"

He could feel Sungyeol's hardened gaze drill into his own. In a more bitter voice, Myungsoo repeated, "Why? Did something happen? Or were you just being a hypocrite when you said not to keep things to yourself?"

Sungyeol released a harsh breath. With a matching tone, he said coolly, "Yes. I was being a hypocrite. Are you satisfied now? I don't know why I said that to you that day, but you can pretend those words never came out of my mouth. It'll be better for the both of us if you do."

The newcomer turned to leave. After taking a few steps, however, he paused and looked back at his silent senior. "Quit trying. I didn't come here to make friends, and I don't plan on doing so any time soon. So I suggest you stop wasting your time and focus on more important things. Namely, your job."

When he left the room, the door closed behind him like it had done with Sungjong. Only this time, Myungsoo was alone in the room, and there were new feelings of anger, confusion, and raw hurt swirling inside of him.

He was wrong. They weren't back to square one. He and Sungyeol were now at a place beyond his reach, and he had no idea how he was going to fix it.

----------

Hoya walked into the main database room, a thoughtful frown etched on his face. He had just finished listening again to the tape of the interview with Lee Seonwoong's daughter, Jangmi. Now, the obvious next step was to track down the ex-partner she'd mentioned. According to her, his name was Kim Jongin, and he'd worked for the same company as Seonwoong for quite the number of years. But finding him would be easier said than done. Of course, Youngjae had provided his basic profile- Jongin's family history, his financial dealings, and so on. But all of the information dated back from starting six years ago, and no one they talked to- not his previous employers, old girlfriend, nor his brother- knew of his whereabouts.

It was as if Kim Jongin had simply disappeared into thin air.

The troubled agent said hello to a few others who were already typing away at their computers. Glancing around, he spotted a familiar head of sandy hair at the further end of the room. Hoya immediately made a beeline to where that blonde person was. There weren't any other people around, but that was okay. In fact, he preferred it that way. Less people meant less conversations, which in turn meant less distractions from work.

"Morning, Kris. How long have you been here?" Hoya asked once he reached his destination. He placed his notebook on the desk and dropped down into an empty seat.

The preoccupied man didn't look away from his computer screen. "Not that long," he replied. "I only got here about half an hour ago."

Hoya quickly logged into his own work station. "Did you find anything new?" he asked, but he knew what the answer was going to be.

Kris confirmed his thoughts by shaking his head, momentarily distracted from the online article he'd been reading. "Nothing," he said, scowling at the screen. "I haven't found anything that Youngjae hasn't already included in Kim Jongin's profile. Are you sure this guy is even alive? There hasn't been any news on him for six years now."

"Of course I'm not sure." Hoya drummed his fingers impatiently as he waited for the user system to load. "For all we know, he could  be dead and we're just on a fruitless search for him. But right now, Jongin is our main- and only- suspect for Seonwoong's murder. He could have gotten paranoid that our victim was going to expose his secret and reveal to the world that he'd stolen Seonwoong's research. He could have discovered a link between the old man, Son Taehyun, and Lee Minhee that made him want to kill all three of them. He could be the Mockingbird killer we've been looking for."

He shrugged at the sceptical expression on Kris' face. "I know, I'm stretching things out here. Kim Jongin is over sixty now and hasn't been heard from for six years. It's hard to believe that, if he is the murderer, he'd wait this long to kill Seonwoong and the other victims. But we still have to check it out, you know. This is the closest thing we have to a lead."

Sighing, the taller agent went back to reading his article. "It's pretty weak for a lead, if you ask me. Here we have three victims, two of whom our suspect has no apparent connection to and the other being a ghost of his past. Like you said, why would he wait until now to dispose of Seonwoong? There isn't any-"

His speech was cut short by Youngjae, who suddenly appeared next to Hoya's computer with a self-satisfied grin.

"Look at this, you two," the intelligence agent said, handing over a sheet of paper. Hoya, feeling immediately curious, took it and scanned it with a sharp eye. "Park Hana, aged fifty-four. Mother of one, divorced, and currently lives alone. Her apartment is somewhere on the outskirts of town. If you leave now, you can make it in time to join her for mid-morning tea."

"And why do we want to meet this Park Hana?" Kris raised a brow. He glanced at the paper which Hoya was squinting at before turning back to Youngjae.

"Because," Youngjae said, crossing his arms, "If you talk to her, you might be able to discover things about Kim Jongin. It would help to look at the sheet in Hoya's hands. If you read that mini-profile I've given you, you'll know that she's his step-sister."

The bespectacled man looked a little smug at the surprise on Kris' face. "There, now you have a new lead for your lead. Though I'll admit, it wasn't easy finding her. Her name wasn't on Kim Jongin's family register or anything. It was a good thing I decided to search through his parents' register, as well. I won't bother explaining the entire process as it was a messy and tedious search, but it turns out his mother had divorced and remarried during his childhood. Park Hana was listed as the only child of Jongin's mother's second husband. Ironically enough, the two ended up separating three years later, when the husband filed for a divorce against her."

"So he has a step-sister..." Hoya finally glanced up from the paper he'd been reading. A familiar feeling began stirring inside of him. It was a mixture of excitement, anticipation, and grim satisfaction. A strange combination, yes, but he was used to it. It was what he felt coursing through his veins whenever he came across a potential breakthrough in a case. "Do you think she knows anything about the present Jongin?"

Youngjae shrugged. "That's your job to figure out."

"Then we'd better get a move on it." Kris logged off of his computer and stood up. "Let's go, Hoya. It'll take us forty minutes to arrive at her place, and that's in good traffic."

Copying his partner's actions, Hoya rose from the chair he'd been sitting on for only five minutes. He made sure to grab his notebook and securely tuck the paper Youngjae had given him inside. He didn't want to lose the profile on Park Hana. Most likely there was a file on her saved in the database, but it would be troublesome either way to have to ask for another copy.

As the two men were leaving, Hoya looked back at the intelligence agent. "Thanks a lot for your help," he said sincerely. "I don't know how long we would have been sitting here today, looking for something credible that could lead us to Kim Jongin."

Youngjae made a noise of agreement. "What would you people do without me?"

Chuckling, Hoya turned to follow Kris out of the room. Youngjae made quite a good point, actually. What would  the agents do without the intelligence unit? For almost every case they had to deal with, intelligence was the division that was the most heavily involved. In metaphorical terms, the CSI force could be thought of as a human body. If the other agents were the hands that carried out their tasks, the intelligence division was the brain that directed it all.

As Kris had predicted, it took more than half an hour to reach Park Hana's address. The car ride was quiet. There were little sprinkles of conversation here and there, but mostly the two partners were thinking about their new person of interest and the chance of her leading them to their main suspect.

'Park Hana...' Hoya mused to himself. He thought back to the picture of her he'd seen at the top of her file. She didn't look particularly outstanding. Brown hair, lacklustre eyes, wrinkles forming on the crevices of her face... Some might have went as far as to call her a Plain Jane. Definitely not the type of person normally involved in a murder investigation.

'But that's the thing about murders.'  Suddenly feeling worn out, Hoya pinched the bridge of his nose to stop an oncoming headache. 'It brings together all sorts of people, whether they're unsuspecting or not. They don't have to be typical of the criminal world. They just have to be... there.'

"We're here," Kris announced abruptly. Shaken from his deep thoughts, Hoya glanced outside of his window to see that they'd indeed arrived at their destination. It wasn't pretty, to put it mildly. The apartment complex where Park Hana resided was rather shady-looking. Its walls were covered with the defiant markings of graffiti, and pieces of garbage littered the ground nearby. There was a damaged car near the front entrance, as well. Hoya didn't know whether it was used as a delinquent hangout or had simply been abandoned by its owner. Quite frankly, he didn't want to stay long enough to find out.

"Nice place," Kris drily commented as they entered the building. Hoya only snorted in response. Silently, they made their way towards the staircase. The men hadn't seen an elevator anywhere in the main lobby. That was fine with them, though. Taking the lift in a rickety place such as this was like asking for an inevitable death.

Finally, after climbing fourteen levels of stairs, they arrived at Hana's apartment. It very well matched the rest of the building. Her door looked just like every other one on the floor. Painted a musty green, it had spider web-like cracks forming in the corners, and its numbers were nailed into place with rusty screws.

The single difference was that her door was the only one open.

The agents glanced at each other. There was a mutual question reflected in their eyes: To enter, or not to enter? On one hand, if they were to walk in, they could be charged for trespassing on other people's property. Not only would it be filed in their records, it would also be a huge embarrassment, seeing as they were both CSI agents. But on the other hand, it appeared as if the apartment was empty. And they really  needed to speak with Park Hana. The fate of the Mockingbird case could change courses entirely if they did.

In the end, it was Kris who broke the silence. "Let's go," he decided. "We didn't come all this way to stare at a piece of wood." He stepped closer towards the door and gave three short, but purposeful knocks.

Knock, knock, knock.  "Hello? Is anybody home?"

As expected, there was no answer.

Kris shrugged at his companion. "Maybe she didn't hear me. Hello? Ms. Park?" he called out, entering the apartment. "This is the CSI. We're sorry to intrude like this, but we have a few questions we'd like to ask you..."

Frowning, Hoya stepped inside behind the sandy-haired male. He scanned his surroundings with a critical eye, taking note of the details of the dim room. A cluttered table, drawn curtains, dishes piled high in the sink... His expression grew even more perplexed when he took a second glance around. Perhaps he was being too stereotypical in thinking this, but wasn't this supposed to be the home of a single mother? He had expected it to be more tidy, more organized, more clean. At the very least, he'd figured it would have been in a more presentable state. Hoya wasn't nitpicky when it came to cleanliness, honestly, but he would have preferred to visit a place where he didn't have to search for clear spaces of floor to step on.

Hoya stared at the kitchen sink. A slightly rotting stench was emitting from it, making him suspect that some unfortunate creature had died inside of it and was starting to decompose. "Hey, are you sure this is the right address? I don't think the lady we need to talk to would live in this-"

"Shhh!" A hand clamped down on his mouth. Instinctively, Hoya tried to fight off his assailant before he realized it was Kris. "Stop talking for a minute, okay? I heard something!"

Hoya immediately stiffened up. "Where?" he whispered as soon as Kris removed his hand. Wordlessly, his partner pointed to a hallway on the other end of the kitchen. No lights had been in the apartment, so Hoya had to squint through the darkness to see what it was.

"There's a room over there," Kris breathed in Hoya's ear. "The door's closed and probably locked, but I'm certain I heard something moving around." He began walking towards the room, careful not to make any noises. It wouldn't do well to scare off whatever- or whoever- was hiding from the two of them.

Just as Kris was about to turn the doorknob, a new voice suddenly cried out behind them. "Don't move!"

Hoya jerked his head back. Who the heck was that? He'd been sure there was nobody else in the apartment with them. Automatically, his hand flew up to where his gun holster was. If this was some street punk looking to pick a fight, he'd chosen the wrong people to mess with. The agent was aware that Kris was in the same tensed position beside him. "Who's there? What are you doing here? Come out so we can see you."

The voice ignored Hoya's questions. "Get out right now! Leave this place at once!" it warned threateningly instead. "I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it!"

Hoya carefully took a step forwards. "We're here on CSI business. We don't mean to cause any trouble, sir." He'd decided it was a male who was speaking to them. Actually, he sounded a great deal older than the two agents. The person's voice reminded Hoya of his grandfather, who had a similar quaver in his speech. "All we want is to talk to Park Hana. Do you have any idea where she might be?"

"Leave immediately! I told you, I have a gun with me! I'm ready to shoot if you don't get out!"

Kris, too, stepped forwards and away from the door. The mission to find whatever was inside of the room was long forgotten. Right now, placating their unseen soon-to-be attacker had the first priority. "Sir, like my partner said, we're not here to make trouble for you. We came today only to find Park Hana and ask her some questions. Is this where she lives?"

Cursing the fact that they'd neglected to turn the lights on beforehand, Hoya squinted again in the darkened corridor. He nearly swore out loud when he spotted a shadowy figure standing at the end of the hall. There was their assailant. Short, thin, and slightly hunched over, the elderly man looked as if he was pointing something in their direction.

Oh, right. The gun. Hoya slowly moved his hand to his holster once more. He really didn't want to have to shoot an old man, but if he attacked them first, the agent would have no choice but to retaliate.

Kris continued. "Are you her neighbour, by any chance? Again, we apologize for intruding, but we have an urgent matter to discuss with Ms. Park. If you can tell us where she may be at this time, we'd greatly appreciate it-"

"I warned you!" the old man screamed. With a jolt, Hoya saw that the man's outline was moving wildly, jabbing his gun towards them in a frenzied dance. "I told you to get out! You won't get anything from me, you hear? But it's too late! You've lost your chance!"

"Sir, put the gun down! If you don't, we will have no choice but to stop you by force-"

Bang!

And then, to Hoya's horror, all became immediately quiet.