Week 3:

The shrill blaring of the security alarm rang through the building, red lights flashing in warning. I scooped up my infrared goggles and laser cutter and stuffed them into my bag. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. Ah, the thrill of the break and enter!

"Hey, you!" A nondescript security guard shouted as I stepped out into the hallway. "Freeze!"

I faced him head on: gangly, un-co, all knees and elbows. Tch. Barely a challenge for an experienced sleuther like me.

"Don't move, you're under arrest!" He jogged cautiously towards me, no doubt intimidated by my threatening glare.

I crouched into a fighting stance. C'mon whippersnapper, let me show you a thing or two about the fight.

"Ma'am, please.' He held out a placating hand. "Lower your fists. I don't want to hurt you."

My vision turned white as I was overcome by rage. How dare this snivelling pipsqueak condescend to me! I may not be as young as used to but I can match it with any obnoxious delinquent who dare challenge me.

I lowered my stance further. "Try me, bucko."

"Ma'am," he sighed, taking another step forward.

And that was the last straw.

Grabbing his outstretched arm, I dropped into a deep squat and drove my shoulder into his stomach. Using my lowered centre of gravity, I flung the scrawny brat over my head and he landed flat on his back, winded.

I straightened, dusting off my hands. Just a little trick I learnt working for MI6 back in the day.

The alarms were still blaring and more guards would turn up soon. I ran back into the room in which I'd begun my reconnaissance and opened the window. I threw one leg out over the ledge —

"Oi! Hold it right there!" Another guard stood in the doorway, his hand fingering his taser. He was a hulking beast of a man and as tempting as it was to teach this brute a lesson, I simply did not have the time. He took a step into the room —

— and I flung myself out the window, free falling 12 storeys.

Now you're probably wondering how this all happened. Ugh, the youth of today and their need for instant gratification. If you listen patiently, then I'll tell you.

I couldn't just stand idly by and let that shaggy detective track down the criminal that threatened my dearest Edgey-Poo all by himself. I doubt he could even find his own detective's badge in that tent he calls a trench coat.

No, I did not trust him one bit. So that's why I had to take matters into my own hands.

After decades of practice it only took me a few days to locate the ventilation maps for the Prosecutor's Office. The job was simple: enter via the basement parking garage, climb up to the ground floor and then it was up 12 storeys through the elevator shaft. After about 100 metres of crawling through the air conditioning, I would cut out the vent and drop from the ceiling into room 1202 — my beloved Edgey-Poo's office.

The room was dark, my darling having left hours ago. I crept over to his desk and started up his computer. The screen illuminated the room and I spotted the limited edition Steel Samurai figurine I'd given him all those years back sitting on the windowsill. Oh, it made my heart skip a beat; despite his shy exterior, his love for me burnt strong!

The computer screen flashed, asking for the password. I typed it in quickly. As the computer loaded my breath sped up. This was just like the time I was working as a double agent for Allebahst, posing as a Babahlese ink smuggler and I had to hack into the old Cohdopian government's financial records all by myself because my partner had abandoned me after our Allebahst handlers cut us loose and managed to singlehandedly take down the entire north side smuggling ring.

Anyway, when the computer had loaded I went straight into the closed cases database to suss out whether any of the criminals my dearest had convicted were capable of such reprehensible behaviour towards him. I spent a good half hour trawling through the cases but came up empty handed. None of these spineless undesirables had the guts to threaten my unyielding Edgey-Poo.

Just as I was about to close the database, I noticed a file in the bottom right-hand corner with a lock symbol over it. I clicked on it and it asked for the password again. I typed it in and then… well, a minute later I was propelling myself out a 12-storey-high window.

\\\\

My dashing lawyer prince was smart and I should not have underestimated his personal security measures. Of course he would never use the same password for general and special files. For a brief moment I acted as inanely as that inept, porcupine-headed whippersnapper.

And so, I shadowed my precious Edgey-Poo the next day, hoping to get a glimpse of that despicable rogue who threatened him.

At 8pm like clockwork, I followed him down the hall towards his apartment. He was taking careful, calculated steps unlike all the other youths of today who act in such reckless and unthinking ways. He reached for his doorknob and paused.

"Whoever you are," he said without turning around, "reveal yourself before I call the police."

Oh no! That dirty rotten crim was lurking somewhere in the hall. How could I have been so oblivious? Now my love was in mortal danger!

Slowly, Edgey-Poo turned around. He crossed his arms in disgust.

"I know you're still there. No matter what you do, I will have you prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."

Ooh, what a fine specimen of a man; so brave in the face of danger!

He took a step forward and pointed —

— directly at me?

"Detective Gumshoe is on his way. I would advise you not to make things difficult."

There was no one in my general vicinity. He was mistaking me for the scoundrel! I couldn't just stand there and watch my beloved make such a dangerous mistake, so I stepped out into clear sight.

His eyes bulged when he saw me. "Y-you!" He exclaimed. "You're the one who has been stalking me this whole time?!"

"Oh my love, I was only trying to protect you!" I explained, tearing up.

"P-protect me? By sending me threatening letters and breaking into my office?"

"No! I only sent you love letters, my darling. I was trying to track down the wretch who threatened you."

He took a hurried step back as I tried to approach him, clearly overwhelmed by my emotional admission.

"Miss Old, er, hag, do not ever contact me again of I'll take out a restraining order." As I reached out towards him he threw open his apartment door and slammed it in my face.

My poor love! He is so unused to displays of affection that he flees, scared of revealing his desire for me.

I was at a loss. I had tried every method in the book to woo him (believe me, I was born before they even wrote the book).

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

I whipped my head to the right to see a man, a… beautiful man, standing in the hall, concern marring his gorgeous face.

"I heard an argument and thought you might need my assistance."

"Who me? Oh ho ho, really it's nothing," I said with a dismissive wave of my hand.

He walked towards me slowly, his hypnotic blue eyes dazzling me with their emotional depth.

"You look shaken," he said. Taking my hand, he gave it a gentle kiss. "Allow me to escort you back to your apartment."

His politeness and sincerity literally took my breath away. He had shown more compassion towards me in ten seconds than Edgey-Poo had shown me in ten years.

…

…

…

Oh, screw it. I'm no spring flower. I don't have time for Edgey-Poo's coy games anymore.

My new beau took my arm and guided me back down the hall.

"Oh, how rude of me. I didn't catch your name."

"It's Wendy. Wendy Oldbag."

He smiled serenely. Such a gentleman, I could tell great things were in our joint future.

"A pleasure to meet you, Wendy." We stopped at my door. "Will you be alright now?"

"Oh," I said, lifting a hand to my forehead, "I'm feeling a little light headed. Could I trouble you for some water?"

"Of course, Wendy. I can only imagine how you must feel after such a ruthless verbal attack."

I gave him my keys and he unlocked the door.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," I said as we stepped through the door.

"My apologies, I am Kristoph Gavin."

Ah, Kristoph Gavin. The perfect name for the perfect man.