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Description

  Ellena spins in her chair, surprising she's not at least green faced from the clockwise turns. Fifty one and fifty two, that's gotta be a new record for Ol' Reliable Swivel chair. She pushes the middle of her glasses and stares off to the desk near her.
    Partner in Crime, Niles, the inspector wrote in a green notebook and his legs perched on his desk. Looks like he was looking into a different space, finding shapes of all kinds, but lost in the squeaks, "Dude, your seat's been squeaking. Put some oil in it or something!" Niles jerks his hand across the paper, leaving a graphite smudge on the page, "Shit..."
   "Sorry," Ellena pauses, "It's just been… you know… nothing much to do."
    "You got papers, right?" Niles pulls from the middle of the stack with a clean pile still intact, but the edge is barely slanted.
     The inspector clasps his hands to the sides to keep the stack steady. He evens each page of written ideas, drawn out colors that ran down in streaks, music sheets with their awkward circle places, and strange comic manuscripts of sci-fi superheroes. The list of all the items will take the duo forever to do even a significant fraction of "creativity."
    It was alright it's not like it could.
    The least dizziest person spins again and bumps the pile onto Niles.
    All the papers fluttered down either to the tiled floor or onto the inspector. The manuscript scatters with mix-matched pages that combined with a political comic about the angriest politician bent on revenge. Now it just seemed like the superhero was helping the politician. The note sheets cover an oil pastel piece that blended with the yellow parchment paper.
    "Ellena! Oh god! The boss is going to kill us if she sees this!" Niles picked up all the sheets, trying not to step on them. He places a bad mud print from his shoes onto a blank sheet, "Help me!"
    She starts grabbing a couple of work, crinkling them beneath her arm, "There's a few behind you."
    "I got it," Niles kneels down and picks up the ones by the window sill. The duo zip past each other, gathering the last of the manuscript about a plastic garden flamingo attacking a patron of a house, "That's gotta be everything," He goes up to the flustered cop and picks up her hand.
    "I got this, don't worry," Ellena straightens the papers neatly and was about to set them on the table when a loud ringing came from a monitor in the back of the room. The bell repeatedly hits metal. Niles's ears rang along with the damned thing. He drops the papers to cover his ears instead.
    The large monitor switches on.
    A shadowed figure of a possibly smaller woman approaches just short of peeking out of the curtain. She stands tall and coughs out the next word, "Hello? Ellena? Niles? What happened in here?"
    "Well you see uhh..."
    "You two can clean this later," the shadow calms herself. Cooing them with a soft voice, but the news had a clear contrary idea of soothing the frazzled team, "There was a robbery at Clare View Point's own bookstore! You two need to get downtown. Right now!"
    Ellena's chest constricts and her heart crumples like the paper Niles was throwing into the recycling. She half gulps necessary air into her body, but it escapes too quickly for her to fill.
    "We're on our way," they say in sync. Her voice may have croaked at the end, but the inspector wasn't too up front with vigor either. His voice softer, but got the message through the microphone for the Boss.
    The Boss nods, "I know you two can do it," the video call ends.
    "We got this," Niles slams his fist down on the desk. The papers once again flew with the incoming ocean breezes.

Description

  Ellena spins in her chair, surprising she's not at least green faced from the clockwise turns. Fifty one and fifty two, that's gotta be a new record for Ol' Reliable Swivel chair. She pushes the middle of her glasses and stares off to the desk near her.
    Partner in Crime, Niles, the inspector wrote in a green notebook and his legs perched on his desk. Looks like he was looking into a different space, finding shapes of all kinds, but lost in the squeaks, "Dude, your seat's been squeaking. Put some oil in it or something!" Niles jerks his hand across the paper, leaving a graphite smudge on the page, "Shit..."
   "Sorry," Ellena pauses, "It's just been… you know… nothing much to do."
    "You got papers, right?" Niles pulls from the middle of the stack with a clean pile still intact, but the edge is barely slanted.
     The inspector clasps his hands to the sides to keep the stack steady. He evens each page of written ideas, drawn out colors that ran down in streaks, music sheets with their awkward circle places, and strange comic manuscripts of sci-fi superheroes. The list of all the items will take the duo forever to do even a significant fraction of "creativity."
    It was alright it's not like it could.
    The least dizziest person spins again and bumps the pile onto Niles.
    All the papers fluttered down either to the tiled floor or onto the inspector. The manuscript scatters with mix-matched pages that combined with a political comic about the angriest politician bent on revenge. Now it just seemed like the superhero was helping the politician. The note sheets cover an oil pastel piece that blended with the yellow parchment paper.
    "Ellena! Oh god! The boss is going to kill us if she sees this!" Niles picked up all the sheets, trying not to step on them. He places a bad mud print from his shoes onto a blank sheet, "Help me!"
    She starts grabbing a couple of work, crinkling them beneath her arm, "There's a few behind you."
    "I got it," Niles kneels down and picks up the ones by the window sill. The duo zip past each other, gathering the last of the manuscript about a plastic garden flamingo attacking a patron of a house, "That's gotta be everything," He goes up to the flustered cop and picks up her hand.
    "I got this, don't worry," Ellena straightens the papers neatly and was about to set them on the table when a loud ringing came from a monitor in the back of the room. The bell repeatedly hits metal. Niles's ears rang along with the damned thing. He drops the papers to cover his ears instead.
    The large monitor switches on.
    A shadowed figure of a possibly smaller woman approaches just short of peeking out of the curtain. She stands tall and coughs out the next word, "Hello? Ellena? Niles? What happened in here?"
    "Well you see uhh..."
    "You two can clean this later," the shadow calms herself. Cooing them with a soft voice, but the news had a clear contrary idea of soothing the frazzled team, "There was a robbery at Clare View Point's own bookstore! You two need to get downtown. Right now!"
    Ellena's chest constricts and her heart crumples like the paper Niles was throwing into the recycling. She half gulps necessary air into her body, but it escapes too quickly for her to fill.
    "We're on our way," they say in sync. Her voice may have croaked at the end, but the inspector wasn't too up front with vigor either. His voice softer, but got the message through the microphone for the Boss.
    The Boss nods, "I know you two can do it," the video call ends.
    "We got this," Niles slams his fist down on the desk. The papers once again flew with the incoming ocean breezes.