A year later Jackson Wolfe was much more familiar with what was going on. There were other cities dealing with vigilante activity, so L.A. wasn't alone. So far, however, not a single one had been apprehended and as of yet they were still not sure how many there were or how they were able to do some of the things people claimed to see them doing.

He looked up in apprehension as he felt the atmosphere in the room shift ever so slightly. 

"Jackson, my darling!" sang Macy as she strolled into sight seductively swinging her hips. She made her way over to their joined work station and, dropping her things, came around and lifted herself up to perch her little round tush right in front of him on his desk.

Jackson leaned back in exasperation, throwing his hands up and away from the annoying person.

"Macy! I've asked you not to call me stuff like that and you almost spilled my coffee," he growled. "Get your ass off my desk!"

"Oh sweetheart! Don't be so grouchy!" She pouted, her plump, pink bottom lip puffing out, making her look even more seductive and like a sex goddess. "I've brought you a bagel. I know you won't have had breakfast!" she chirped, causing Jackson to wince. Then she hopped down and went around the desk to her side to retrieve the little white pastry bag that she had walked in swinging happily. She tossed it across to him and said, "Here, love. Eat. You need some meat on those bones and energy to keep up with me!"

He caught the bag, eyeing her warily. "God help me," he muttered to himself.

He still didn't have Detective Grey completely figured out. He wasn't sure yet if her bimbo behavior was all just an act. It didn't seem to be, but he knew that she was brilliant. Maybe even more so than he was. Her personality gave you the impression she was about as sharp as a feather, though. And the way she fawned over him and spoke to him as though they were love-lorn soul mates! It was annoying. She was annoying. Her voice was annoying. Her round butt, perfect legs and bouncy bosom were all annoying.

Jackson let out a sigh as he inspected the contents of the little paper sack. She was invaluable and he couldn't imagine doing this job without her by his side.

"Wolfe!!" Jackson jumped, almost dropping the bag. He turned around toward the Chief's office and eyed the room until he spotted him. The Chief was heading in from the hall, walking briskly toward his office and looking as grouchy and humorless as always.

"Yeah, Chief?" Jackson hollered back.

"Get yours and that little blondie partner of yours' butts in my office, immediately! I want debriefings!" the Chief barked.

Jackson stretched and stood to his feet. He dropped the white bag on his desk, figuring the bagel would have to wait. He noticed his partner with the phone in her hand, dialing, so he casually walked around the desk, took the phone out of her hand, hung it up, and gently pushed her toward the Chief's office. Macy pouted even harder than before, scrunching her eyebrows together.

"Darling, that was my manicurist!" she griped, sounding even more like a little girl and less like a cop. "Do you realize how booked she is? And my nails are deplorable!" she squeaked, looking at her perfectly polished nails as though they were about to turn and claw her eyes out of their own accord. "Jackson!"

He ignored her incessant chatter as he continued to guide her toward the Chief's office. He was used to it. Kind of. Well, actually there were days when he daydreamed about gagging her, duct taping her hands and feet, and tossing her into the Pacific. Of course that would leave him with doing all of his own paperwork, he would probably starve to death, and within a year he would probably be dead. She had already managed to get him out of trouble twice since he had known her. Still, he thought, as her chatter pelted down upon his head. Might be well worth it.

Jackson tapped lightly on the Chief's door before opening it and poking his head in. The Chief was already on the phone with his chair turned facing the window and away from them. He continued talking to whoever it was as he waved impatiently for them to come in.

Jackson glanced behind him in. His partner was already babbling a coworker's ear into oblivion. He reached back and pulled her into the office behind him, causing her to let out a little squeak. The Chief turned slowly around in his chair. He held a finger up, signaling to them to wait quietly.

Macy turned to Jackson and began chewing at his eardrum about why her conversation (that he'd just rudely interrupted) was so important... and couldn't he just be a little less grouchy? And why on earth did the Chief want to see them now? It was so early... and on and on. He just sat back in his chair, chin resting on his chest, and let his mind wander while tuning out her voice.

Finally the Chief slammed down the phone and looked at it as though it were a rattlesnake.

"They have got some nerve!" he said to no one in particular, still staring at the phone.

"Chief?" Jackson asked, wondering what the man was all up in arms about. Not that he wasn't, most of the time, up in arms about something or another. Jackson just did his best to make sure it wasn't ever about him. Chief Munson could be fearsome.

"Ah! Never mind that, Wolfe! What do you have for me today?" the Chief asked abruptly, turning his attention away from the offensive phone and back to Jackson and Macy.

"Chief, sir! Darling, could you please tell my love... my sweet Jackson... could you make him be nicer to me? He's being mean this morning!" Macy spilled out into the open air in what sounded like one extremely long word. Jackson stared at her, appalled, before turning to the Chief with his mouth open, trying to form words.

Chief Munson gazed at Macy adoringly. "Wolfe!" Jackson jumped, trying to find his voice again. "Are you mistreating my little prized jewel, Wolfe? I'll have your hide!"

Jackson shook his head quickly, still appalled. "Of course I'm not, Chief! I was..."

Abruptly Macy burst into tears, looking at him with her big blue eyes as though she were begging for mercy.

"Oh Jackson darling! I just don't know why you are so grouchy. It breaks my heart! What can I do to make you happy?" she wailed, causing Jackson to shift nervously around in his seat as the Chief glared at him.

"Not that!" Jackson yelped, gesturing in her general direction. He hated it when she started crying for no apparent reason.

Just as suddenly as she had started, she stopped crying and pulled out her little compact, which she kept down the front of her blouse inside her bra. She studied her reflection and accepted a tissue from the Chief to dab her wet lashes.

"I'm sorry, darling! I just adore you and want you to be happy," she pouted, as she applied lip gloss from a tube which she also produced by plucking it from her bra. Jackson was surprised she didn't appear more... lumpy in that general area.

He rolled his eyes staring at her in disbelief. Was she for real or straight out of a T.V. drama? The Chief was still glowering at him as though he had stepped upon his prized daisies, or some such nonsense.

"Chief, I swear! I've been nothing but a gentleman..."

Macy suddenly bounced from her chair and threw herself into his lap, arms tight around his neck, squeezing.

"Of course you are a gentleman, sweetheart! I would never accuse you of being anything but, darling! Never!"

Jackson looked over her shoulder at the Chief, who sat back in his chair eyeing the two as though this was the most ordinary behavior in the world. As though every cop in his jurisdiction behaved like an eight-year-old girl with serious bi-polar issues, while carrying themselves like a Playboy Playmate.

Jackson disentangled his eccentric partner's arms from around his neck and gently pushed her off of him and back toward her chair.

"Can we please do what we came in here for, Macy? Please?" he implored her in a low, gentle voice.

"Of course, darling!" she chirped, smiling brightly. She plucked a nail file out of her magical bosom and nonchalantly began to file her nails, humming tunelessly.

Jackson gaped at her for a moment before turning back to the Chief. He let out a sigh. Sometimes it felt like he were on a roller coaster ride when he was around Macy. She was definitely something. Nobody except him seemed to notice or acknowledge her behavior. He supposed it was because they had all lived in L.A. for longer than he had. Numerous people who lived in this city were in their own little fantasy worlds. In fact, if he had not seen the evidence (and if other cities weren't reporting the same things) he would have chalked all of this "superhero and vigilante" nonsense up to the wild imaginations of the collectively eccentric (and a bit "off") people of Los Angeles.

It wasn't imagination though, and Jackson was up to his neck in it. He could think of little else as he followed leads, did research, and came within inches and seconds of catching up with the so-called "heroes". All of this only to have them seemingly evaporate into thin air.

There was one vigilante in particular who interested him more so than the others. This guy was relatively new and the reports about him were vague and incomplete. People seemed to remember someone being there, but most of the time they couldn't describe him. Or they couldn't remember exactly what had happened and what he had done.

"Well, Chief, I can't say I have anything solid yet, but I do have my eyes and ears on a new one," he said.

Their division had more leniency when it came to making arrests. They didn't have a quota to meet because no one in the entire country had apprehended any of the vigilantes as of yet. All the Chief required of them were regular reports on their progress and disclosure of information. Of course, the ultimate goal was to make an arrest, but the Chief seemed to realize his young detective was putting his soul into the job. He could see how hard Jackson worked.

"What's his story? Or is it a she?" the Chief asked, leaning forward.

"A he definitely. From what I hear, he's either very good at performing illusions or he truly has some sort of supernatural power. I'm inclined to believe the former, of course."

The Chief nodded his head, gazing at Macy with a faraway look. She continued to file her nails while quietly humming her little "whatever it was".

Suddenly she spoke. "He bends time." Jackson looked over at her, surprised. The Chief brought his focus back from his far away thoughts and directed it at her. He seemed completely unfazed by her sudden involvement in the conversation.

"What did you say, Macy?" Jackson asked.

"Oh, sweetie. He bends time!" she chirped and stashed her nail file back in her bosom. She looked around, appearing bored with her surroundings. Then she looked back at Jackson and flashed a bright, adoring smile at him. "Darling, you know I do my best to help you in any way I can. I found out that this new guy... this... they call him 'Father Time'. Cute, right? Well, he is able to bend time. That's all. Don't look at me like that, love. You make me feel like you might eat me at any moment."

Macy stood to her feet and gently patted Jackson on the cheek. She turned to the Chief.

"Sir? Chief darling? Are we finished?" she asked in her high, girly voice. "I need to make an appointment with my manicurist before she is all booked up for the week. She's very good, you know. Her schedule is always full but she does such a perfect job! And last time I was there I spoke to her about doing a different twist on the French manicure. You see, I had an idea! So I described it to her just exactly the way I saw it, and....."

Jackson stood to his feet and, after giving the Chief a brief nod and receiving one in return, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him so that the pain in his eardrums would cease with the silencing of her voice.

Once again, his little, tow-headed, "Betty Boop" partner had surprised him. She had found out what this new vigilante's affinity was and even what they called him. He had only received a few descriptions of the guy and had been told that he did some weird, crackly stuff that looked like lightning. According to witnesses, there was usually just a bunch of confusion after that. He was also told that the guy resembled Batman due to the head to toe black costume and cape. There was a symbol of an hourglass on his chest.

"Hence the 'Father Time' nickname," he mumbled. "He bends time? How the hell...? To what extent...? If he can bend time..." 

The indications were slowly creeping into his head and he became increasingly worried.

I need to find out more about this guy, fast, he thought to himself, trying not to let it freak him out. I need to know how powerful he is and what, exactly, it means for him to “bend time”.

He grabbed his keys out of his desk drawer and headed toward the hall and down to the evidence room. He needed to read through some of the older files and cases. He needed a clue where to look for this guy. He needed to find out if there were any past reports that had to do with altered time. He glanced at the Chief's door as he passed by and chuckled to himself. "Yeah. She'll be in there for a while."

(Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter and the prologue. Please let me know what you think and if you like it. Don't forget to vote!)