New York City

October 12th, 1973

Detective Sam Tyler of the 125th precinct is running.

He seems to be doing a lot of that lately.

One person is following him. But the other man is older, not quite as fast. They need a car, though, their perp is heading for a parked motorcycle.

The perp turns a corner, and lets out a surprised cry. In the next second, Sam stops in time to see her smack the concrete sidewalk with her head. Chris snaps the cuffs on her wrists while Ray drags her to a standing position.

"Nice work." Gene says, from behind Sam.

Chris smiles as they herd the woman toward Ray's car. Her hair is in a long, brown braid, and the sidewalk has bestowed upon her cheek a red, oozing scrape. She is tired looking, but a deeper tired than just the run. She is wearing a leather jacket over a pair of god awful, loose, toothpaste colored pants. On her feet is a pair of generic white sneakers. Her face remains impassive, but her body language suggests indignation.

Sam, still breathing hard from his sprint, is not impressed.

m m m

Back in Lost and Found, they have her name.

Blythe Wyatt, age 25. No arrest record. There's a hit for two other Wyatt's, but its hard to tell if there's a relation.

She keeps her hands in her lap, looks at the table. No longer indignant, but more resigned. Blood from her cheek drips down onto her equally toothpaste colored shirt, just visible over the collar of her black coat.

The three detectives stare at her for a moment.

"Why'd you run?" Sam begins with.

"Cause I just saw my friend get kidnapped right in front of me." She says venomously.

"Why didn't you call the cops?" Chris puts in.

"Ever tried to find a pay phone when you're fearing for your god damn life?"

"You were worried the kidnapper was going to come after you?" Sam asks.


"Look, sweetheart just tell us why you were in that alleyway in the first place." Ray, losing an patience he ever possessed, says with enough venom to match her own.

She ignores him, and looks at Chris, whose sitting on the edge of a shelf, with his arms crossed.

"Ya know," She smiles, with absolutely no friendliness. "Crossing your arms like that is a sign of insecurity."

"That's it," Ray slams her head against the metal table. "Ready to talk now?"

She brings her head up, revealing blood gushing from her nose.

"And its broken." Blythe mutters, gingerly prodding her now crooked nose.

Sam roles his eyes and gives Ray his best you're a complete dumb-ass look.

Ray responds with a surly shrug, and turns to Chris. "Go find No-Nuts to bandage this dirty hippie up."

Chris has only just taken a few steps when she stops him. "Its okay, I'll take care of it. Contrary to popular belief-" She stops for a seething look at Ray- "I'm a nurse, with a degree and everything. Not a hippie, thank you. Just get me some ice and a rag."

Chris raises and eyebrow, but does what she says. Sam and Ray leave the room.

"She definitely knows something." Ray says.

"No shit." Sam retorts. "But breaking her nose is not helping."

Ray grunts, and follows Chris, carrying a bag of ice and a rag, back into Lost and Found.

"Thank you," She sighs, taking the towel and ice. She has her head leaned back in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but lets it return to the normal angle as she blankets her nose in ice on all sides.

As anesthetized as one can hope, she takes a second to brace herself, then, with a sickening crack that makes everyone in the room grit their teeth, she yanks the crooked bones back into place, letting out a cry of pain. She immediately holds the rag to the stream of new blood flowing out her nostrils.

It takes a while for the bleeding to subside. She sticks a shred of tissue paper up each nostril, and Chris softly hands her a bandaid to put over the bridge of her nose, which she seems to have gotten mostly straight. A ring of bruising is already forming around each eye. By the end, she has a stunned expression on her face, and a pool of blood on the table in front of her.

"Never got to do that on myself before." She says after a moment.

The three men in the room break out of their slightly disgusted, slightly intrigued stupors. Sam wipes down the table.

"So, you said the girl who got kidnapped, Tessa Powers, was your friend?" He breaks the silence.

"Hmmm," Blythe says after a moment. "Its about lunch time, and my nose hurts."

Ray gets the message and rolls his eyes. "There's a soup place down the street."

She smiles triumphantly. "That sounds lovely. I'm sure when you get back, I'll have some information." And maybe less of a desire to report corrupt cops.

Ray walks out, and after a moment Chris follows, claiming to come back with coffee.

"That went well." She looks at Sam, hanging awkwardly in the corner. "What do you want to know?"

Sam raises his eyebrows, but recovers and takes a seat across from her.

"What did you see?" He asks simply.

"Tessa is a nurse also. I usually work the night shift, and pass her when she comes in for the morning shift. We don't know eachother that well." She took a breath.

"Last night she called my apartment. Asked me I could cover her shift for her. I said yes, cause that's what friends do, right? When someone asks you, you pretty much always say yes if they have to deal with something. I asked her if something was wrong, she said she was fine, but had to go the dentist or doctor-I can't remember which. But she sounded weird. I didn't press though. As I said before, we were friends, but didn't know each other that well.

"So I go do my shift at night and then take hers. I leave around noon to go home and get some rest. But as I'm walking toward my motorcycle in front of the hospital, Tessa comes out of nowhere, grabs me by the arm and pulls me a few streets down into an alleyway. I'm getting worried—the girl looks like shit. She's wearing at least three layers of clothing, and her face is bruised. Her hair is a mess and she doesn't wear the usual make up, in fact she's not wearing none at all. I've got the willies for my own safety, but I ask her whats wrong.

"She starts talking about a boyfriend. Says she's running away with him, and I have to tell her boss that she's quitting because I'm the closest friend she has at the hospital. I already kinda knew this, she was always shy. It was just happenstance that we talked once and hung out a little later on. But anyway, she says she's running away with this guy—Daniel something or another. I ask her whats wrong with her face, and she just brushes the question away and keeps on that I have to tell her superior. That she's not supposed to tell anyone, but she didn't want to just disappear without saying good bye.

"I manage to coax out of her where she's going. She's really afraid to tell me. Says she's not supposed to talk to anyone about it because Daniel whoever says they're making a clean break and leaving it all behind. She looks around the alleyway, real nervous. There ain't nobody there I can see, but just as she's about to tell me this figure comes running out of nowhere and clamps a dish towel over her mouth. I could smell the chloroform from where I was standing."

Chris comes in, balancing three cups of coffee. Seeing Blythe talking, he hands her one and retreats to one corner of the room. She nods at him and continues telling her story to Sam.

"I panic as he drags Tessa off. I'm not much of a fighter, but he pulls her straight into a waiting car anyway. So I run for my life, and then you guys show up, and I assume your with the guy who took Tessa, because I sure as hell didn't call the police and I couldn't figure out how you guys would've showed up so fast, even if I had called you."

"Somebody in the apartment building next to the alleyway heard a woman scream and saw you running. The person who called actually thought it was a mugging and you'd done it. We happened to be in the area when the call came in." Sam explained.

"Did you see what the man who grabbed Tessa looked like? Anything really unique?" Chris asks.

Blythe shrugs, and frowns. "I was kinda out of it by then. Just kind of feeling rather than seeing. Asshole was wearing a mask and all black anyway. Couldn't see a shred of skin, I don't think."

Sam nods, just as Ray arrives with a cup full of warm soup, which he hands to an eager Blythe. She removes her jacket to reveal green scrubs, and starts in on her soup.

"Ok, cupcake, start talking." Ray glares at her.

"I believe your associates got all that was necessary."

Ray gives Sam a questioning look.

"She was quite helpful." Sam says, not quite friendly.

"Right." Ray mutters, and then storms out.

"Chris," Sam says. "Would you please walk Ms. Wyatt back to her apartment?" He turns to Blythe. "Sorry for the...uh..."

"Nose? Yeah, whatever."

"We'll contact you if we have any more questions."

"Okay." She stands, grabs her jacket, and follows Chris outside.

Author's Note: This is the first chapter of a story that won't be much longer like 5-7 chapters. Just something I thought of while watching Life on Mars again. Anyway, please review!