FBI Agent

Eight.

I watch the footage of Christopher Black over and over again until my vision begins to blur. Inside my head, I have his movements memorised. The way his head tilts slightly as he walks, long dark hair messily ruffled on top of his head. In the footage, he's sporting a dark beard, grown out for a while. I can't help but notice how he reminds me so much of Calvin. . . the smooth movements, the confidence he oozes.

Christopher Black is always dressed immaculately in a clean, crisp suit and tie. I can't make out any of his facial features as he always seems to know where the camera is pointing. His head is always bowed down, staring at the floor to keep hidden.

I watch the footage again, zooming in on his clothes. A small white line can be seen on his suit however I can't seem to figure out whether it's the camera quality or the design of his suit. I keep my eyes trained on it, watching as he moves. The white line on his suit moves with him. I grin, screen grabbing the images before emailing them over to Micah.

"I got you Black," I smirk, bouncing off my chair and heading for Micah's bedroom. I knock on it multiple times before barging in. Micah whirls around in surprise, shirtless. My eyes immediately snap to his body and suddenly, I remember how close we were last night. The way he soothed me as I suffered from a nightmare.

"What are you doing?" Micah says abruptly, reaching over to grab a shirt and pull it on. My eyes are fixated on the smooth skin, his taught stomach where he's sporting very defined abs. I also notice the numerous scars running up and down his skin and I look away, inhaling deeply.

"I've got something on Christopher." I say firmly, heading for his laptop. I fling it open, popping in his password and clicking on his emails. Behind me, Micah grows silent and I hope things aren't going to be awkward between us.

"You know my password?" Micah snaps, slightly confused and angry. I smirk, taking a seat in his chair.

"I've known it for a year Micah. I'm surprised you haven't figured that out already." I snigger, turning the screen and showing him the screen shots of the video footage. Micah glares at me before bending down and studying the pictures.

"Is that — " He asks, eyebrows creased together in concentration.

"A logo. A suit brand." I say excitedly, zooming in on the picture. Behind me, Micah's lips stretch out into a wide grin.

"If you get this sent off to be enhanced properly, we should be able to get a clear picture. If we know the brand of the suits he buys, we've got information on him. Bank cards, whereabouts and his taste in clothes." I say smugly, swinging around in my chair to face Micah. His eyes flicker between my face and the laptop screen with shock.

"Holy shit Hunter, I don't know whether to hug you or punch you out of excitement." He says quietly, eyes flashing with a new found determination. He inches closer to scrutinise the image and I breathe in quietly, his proximity causing the caged butterflies to start up again in my stomach.

"If you punch me, I'll punch your face in return. Just saying." I say lightly. Beside me, Micah turns to look at me, dark eyes flashing with amusement. He lets out a low chuckle before swinging his hand out, pushing on my chest. I instantly fall back, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

"Shut up idiot," he says playfully before sitting himself on his seat. I narrow my eyes and glare at him but the corners of my lips tug upwards anyway. He holds my stare for a few seconds before breaking eye contact, putting his attention back onto the case. His fingers begin to tap away at the keyboard quickly, eyes narrowed with concentration.