um.. hi.

This is my second fan fic.. By the way.. I'm not dropping my previous stories nor am I neglecting it... I just had to make a Half Moon Investigations fanfiction after reading it three times in one month.. yes.. I need a life.. *headdesk*

Anyway.. The set up is ten years later.. and Fletcher Moon has changed a lot so.. yeah..

Warnings: Heavy language, Smartass!Fletcher, and pre-slash I guess..?

please enjoy the story.. *bows*


I was sitting on a stool in a rather loud night club in Dublin. In my hand was a glass of martini, which I wasn't even bothering to drink. A sigh escaped my lips as I swiveled on the chair I was sitting at, eyeing the people dancing the night away.

Allow me to introduce myself. My name's Fletcher Moon, twenty-two years of age, and a private investigator. The reason why I was hanging around a night club wasn't because I was on a stake out or anything along those lines. The real reason was actually that I was there looking for someone to spend the night with. It was against my will, but my mother, who was already frustrated about my way of life, threatened to disown me if I didn't get myself a girlfriend.

It wasn't that I was afraid of what she was capable of, but seeing everyone around me already married and happy, made me feel out-of-place. Truthfully, I wanted to spend my life in complete solitary, but my co-workers and family thought otherwise. So they had collaborated and sent me up to this place, where everyone had threats. I thought it was stupid, but I went along with them. I needed a break from all the detective business I've done, after all.

So there I was, still alone and lazily slouching on the bar stool. Don't get me wrong, a lot of women walked toward me asking me for a dance, but I never agreed to one because, somehow, no one could catch my interest. Hazel, my sister, had even told me that I'd grown charismatic through the years, but I'd never paid attention her words.

Another sigh passed my lips as I downed the martini in my hand in one gulp and placed it down on the table. I grabbed my wallet, paid for it, and stood up. I was about to leave the noisy place, that was, until I heard a voice call for me.

"Fletcher!"

My body froze when I heard that single statement. It had been ten years since I last heard that voice, and I could never seem to forget it. Excitement and fear both welled up inside of me as I turned, and what I saw made everything invisible but him.

"Red."

Red Sharkey had been my unlikely friend, and partner, during middle school. We had been solving crimes together throughout the year following the arson and the assault incident. No one took us lightly after that, even adults respected us, but that was only lasted up until Red's graduation. We bid goodbyes to each other and only communicated through cell phone messages. That didn't last long either. Suddenly, Red stopped replying to my messages. I thought that he was busy so I didn't mind, but the silence lasted until I graduated, during high school, through college, and even now.

During those times, I figured that he might have been with other people, so I thought that even I should get a move on, but his sudden disappearance left a great impact to me. I grew insecure. That was why I changed through high school. Instead of being a nerd and a detective geek, my insecurities drove me to be an attention seeking trouble maker. I became popular and crowded with friends and admirers although that wasn't something that I appreciated.

This rampant attitude of mine lasted until the first year of college, until Murt Hourihan, a friend of mine who is a law enforcement agent, kicked me into alignment. So I once again studied like an actual student and got back into investigating, but life was never the same.

"Fletcher," Red grinned his Cheshire smile. "How've you been?"

I nodded casually to him, regaining my lost composure. "I've been well. You?"

"Same as always."

The two of us settled at the bar, him downing a mug of beer while I, once again, held a glass of martini.

"So? It's been long, huh? I barely even recognized you." He told me while taking a sip from the yellow alcohol in his hand. "Looking good."

"Long indeed. Is that so? I never really paid attention to how I look." I replied monotonously.

He snorted then placed his glass down to punch at my arm, which I caught in mid-air without much effort. His eyes widened. Then he retrieved his hand, smirking as he went back to his old self. "You've gotten uncute. Huh, Half Moon?"

I placed my hand down by my side then took a sip from my cold drink. "I simply grew up, that's all there is to it." I dryly answered.

Red probably noticed the coldness in my tone, so he remained silent, eyeing the blinking lights and the dancers that night.

Awkward silence loomed around us despite the loudness of the music. My words had drawn a clear line between us, and I was certain Red had noticed that. Truthfully, I wasn't sure why I said that. Was it because I was still holding a grudge against him? I didn't know.

"Why are you here, Fletcher?" He asked causally, almost as if nothing happened. It seemed like he couldn't bear the silence anymore.

I wanted to tell him that I was there on a stake out, that I was doing this because of a job. "Nothing, just hanging around." Unfortunately, my mouth got a better of me.

He snorted in disbelief then took a swig from his drink. "What? Looking for a good lay?" He joked.

"You can say that."

I heard him choking beside me; it took a while before he could regain his lost composure. "What the-? Seriously?" He questioned with wide eyes.

I nodded, finished my martini, and crossed my arms in front of me. Being a detective, I knew that my body language screamed a defensive stance, but I doubt that Red would know that.

"Yep," I haphazardly said.

He then leaned back and finished his drink. "You've changed a lot, Fletcher."

"I know."

"I miss the old you."

My vision blurred as I felt anger bubble inside of me. He missed the old me? If he did, then why did he leave? Why did he vanish? If he liked my old self that much, then why the fuck did he leave me alone?

My head went hazy with anger and alcohol. I stood up, grabbed my jacket, and shrugged it on. "It was nice seeing you, Red. Goodbye." I snapped as I walked away from him.

He shot up and grabbed my wrist tightly enough to leave red marks on my skin. "Wait, Fletcher."

I jerked my hand away from his grip and pulled my hands in front of me, turning towards him as I did so. "Look, Red." I eyed him indifferently. "Let's face it. I've changed. I'm no longer the Fletcher you know. And I don't think you'll meet him anytime soon." I pulled my hands down and slipped it inside my jacket pocket. "Times have changed, Red. You've changed, and so have I. We lead different lives now. We separated ways ten years ago. Let's just move on." I cast him one last, melancholic smile. Then I turned and walked away, not even sparing a single glance toward him.

"What brought this on, Fletcher?" He called out through the noise.

Several thoughts ran in my mind to answer his question. I paused but didn't look back. "A lot of things," I released a sigh "It's your choice whether to figure that out or not."

I knew from my instincts that Red had his teeth clenched as he answered me. "Why do you have to make things harder?"

I smiled for the second time that night. "You're a smart guy, Red, you can figure it out."


I groaned as I casually walked past the guards and straight inside the Police department. Murt raised an eyebrow at my disheveled state. I hadn't even bothered brushing my hair, thus, it went in different directions.

"Civilians aren't allowed in here, you know." He reprimanded.

I rolled my weary eyes then pulled out a chair and flopped down in it, my body hanging like a rotten vegetable. "Put a sock in it, Murt. My head's killing me." I groaned then rubbed my temples in an attempt to lessen my hangover.

"Rough night?" The police officer questioned as he arranged the papers on his desk.

I fixed him a glare. "Whose fault do you think it is?" I snapped.

He just held his hands up in front of him with his elbows tucked in. "Whoa there, kiddo. Don't blame only me; there are a lot of culprits who decided on that." He said with a grin.

A sigh escaped my lips as I rolled my eyes then covered them with a wrist. "I met Red last night."

This made Murt's smile fall completely. "You did?"

"Yeah, last night. He was hanging at the club."

"So? What happened?" Murt curiously asked while lighting the cigarette in his hand.

I removed my hand and sat straight, running my fingers over my hair leaving it with mixed results. "Nothing really. We just talked and that's it." I simply answered.

Murt snorted then rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Yeah, right. Tell that to someone who would believe you." He handed the cigarette packet to me and I accepted it without a second thought, pulling out a stick and tucking it between my lips. "What really happened, Fletcher?" He questioned further.

I remained silent as I lit the cancer stick and blew out a small puff of smoke. "He acted as if nothing had happened." I snorted almost bitterly then once again took a long drag from the nicotine filled stick. "It's not that I'm expecting a sorry from him. He's Red Sharkey. I doubt he even realized what he did."

"Ah, news does travel fast!" A voice said.

The two of us turned to see the newbie agent, Callum Matthews, with a grin spread wide across his face. "Ah, Callum." Murt said almost fondly at the blond. I arched my brow at the new face, studying him as I did so.

Murt seemed to notice me then waved him to come closer. "Fletcher, this is-"

"Callum Matthews, he's been here for less than a year. Three months perhaps?" I stated then eyed his whole frame. "Wealthy, a field agent, age is about twenty-two, single." A rat suddenly scuffled on the floorboards, and I noticed his eyes glanced over its way for half a second. "Commendably alert, probably has talent in aiming and sharp shooting." I took a drag from my cigarette then crushed it at the nearby ash tray. "You've got yourself quite a subordinate, Murt."

He just rolled his eyes then sucked at his cancer stick. "Show off." He muttered while nibbling on the cigarette butt.

The newbie's eyes widened at me then his grin spread wider. "Wow! It's all correct! How did you do that?" He exclaimed in admiration.

Of course I didn't let the moment pass.

"Your name is stated on the file I've read in one of the papers in Murt's desk, so is your picture." I sighed softly then propped a hand under my chin. "Unfortunately, the other details were concealed so I had to see through you."

"I've yet to see you around, and you seem to be new, just barging in your boss' room. The soles of your shoes seemed worn off, albeit the top is perfectly polished, it states your luxury and your position. You don't have a ring on your finger, and with him as your boss," I jerked a thumb over toward the glaring man beside me. "I highly doubt you'd have time for relationships."

"Okay, okay, enough showing off for one day." Murt said to cut me off. I frowned at him but just shrugged it off, taking another cigarette and placing it between my lips. "What were you saying earlier, Matthews?" He queried.

The blond's eyes flickered in remembrance. "Oh yes. There was a second degree murder case that just came in." He glanced at the files he had in hand and started reading aloud. "The crime was committed around eleven thirty last night. The victim's name is April Devereux, age twenty-"

"Did you say April Devereux?" I questioned, unsure of what my reaction should be.

Callum nodded then Murt and I shared a look. I shrugged then leaned back. "It's been a long time since I've last heard about her. Middle school, I would guess?" I took a drag from my cigarette. "Regarding her attitude, I wouldn't doubt if she got killed by her lover or something."

The blond newbie then continued reading. "She was found dead at the car park on sixty-first street with a single gunshot wound to the head."

"The witness had seen a man kneeling close to her with a gun in hand. The suspect was said to have an a tall build, probably around 5'11-"

I felt my throat go dry as I continued listening to him.

"Green eyes, and blazing red hair. The prime suspect is-"

My heart stopped beating as he said the name I dreaded to hear.

"Red Sharkey."


I've never drove that fast in my life. I rushed toward the scene of the crime scene nearly a hundred and twenty kilometers per hour, with Murt's police car roaring near me, everyone turned away from us.

It took less than five minutes to arrived, in a usually fifteen minute drive. I stepped outside my car, acting casual as I shoved my hair back. I tried to calm myself and think rationally, as I passed under the brightly colored police tape.

"Ah, Sergeant." Police Officer Alexander Stevens greeted with a salute, which was returned by Murt.

"Morning," Murt casually greeted back.

He arched a brow at me. "Still hanging around Moon, I see." He said with a crooked smile.

I studied him carefully and found a smirk spread across my lips. "Still having wasted nights, I see."

We both shared an intense glaring match that was stopped by a sigh courtesy of Murt. "Okay, ladies, enough with the hostility." He turned towards the dark blond haired officer. "Feed me the details."

Alex read through his notes while Murt and I stood near the fallen corpse of a woman I could barely recognize on the grey concrete. Why would Red do this? What motive did he have for killing April? I pondered for a while, and failed to notice that they were calling for my attention.

"Earth to Fletcher Moon, come in midget space ranger." Alex sarcastically said while knocking a knuckle over my head.

I batted his hand off and sent him a glare. "What do you want, rookie?"

He snorted."Rookie? Who's the one spacing out at a crime scene?" He smirked at me. "Better keep your mouth closed, Moon, you don't want your drool messing with the DNA in here."

"Then shut your trap, rookie, your spitting all over the place."

Murt forcefully coughed in his fist, once again cutting our bickering. "If you two keep doing this I'm going to tie you up in a chair and force you to watch sappy romance movies for a whole day."

I felt the blood on my face drain, and the look in Alex's face told me that he felt the same. What Murt says, Murt does. There was pretty much an urban legend going around the police force. Once there was a police rebel that got it in his veins to disappear for a day. The day after that, he was a changed man, who shuddered in fear around Murt. Poor guy… it must've been tough.

Murt sighed when the two of us fell silent. Then he walked toward the corpse. "April Dereveux… I remember her starting that weird group Les- whatever, when she was only a little girl."

I remembered that scene then shook my head when Red came to mind. I looked around to be rid of my thoughts and focused on my surroundings, and that was when I saw the black attaché case by the corner.

My feet brought me towards the mysterious package, and I knelt in front of it, looking at the locked material.

"Huh?" Alex said from behind me. "I didn't notice that earlier."

A thought hit me like a truck. I heard a faint tick inside the case. I didn't even have the time to feel nervous.

"Everybody down!"

… Then the black case, along with most of the parking lot, burst into flames.


... *bows*

I'd like to thank my awesome beta, WhereDestiniesMeet17. Thank you for tolerating my horrible tenses..

thank you for reading..

please leave a review, comment, constructive criticism..

but if you're going to leave a flame.. it's fine.. I'll use it to warm my ass off because it's freaking cold without my blanket. Just say

"this is shit just go to hell how dare you mess with Fletcher yadda yadda yadda"

then

"THIS IS SHIT GO TO HELL FOR YOUR EFFIN WORTHLESS STORIES"

the difference..?

I abhor uppercase.

*bows*

until next time...


Chapter 2 preview...

"You idiot..."

"There's a traitor in the Police force..."

"Looks like you'll have to bear with my company, Fletcher."

"Well, what a surprise. It's nice of you to visit, Red Sharkey."

"Looks like your reunion got a little too heated,huh?"

"Genie..."


*shuffles off to the corner of the room to review*