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Heather went to protest some more, only managing to get her pride hurt when some upper-class girl screamed at her. Heather remembered living like that girl had, wrapped up under daddy's arm. She recalled getting everything she wanted and at this moment she wondered if she was that snobbish back then. Had she screamed down protestors and called them blood sucking parasites? Surly she wasn't as evil as the girl that sashayed before her was. Heather stifled a sigh and went to go protest come more.

The night had gotten darker, a man tore down an ally-way near the park, and he yelped when he came to a dead end. The man whirled around to face the figure which walked calmly toward him.

"P-please mista'! I-I didn't mean to do it I-"

"You've killed thirteen innocent people! I hardly believe it was an accident!" the figure spoke with a strange accent, that sounded like a mangled British one. All that could be concluded from the figure was that it was a man, he wore black gloves, boots, black pants, a dark grey T-shirt covered by a bullet proof vest, with black leather gloves. His face was however shrouded by the shadows, and the only detail that could be seen, was that he wore sunglasses.

"So, what, you a cop, gonna take me in?" the man asked.

"Not even close." the strange accent of the figure replied, he pulled a pistol from his back pocket and aimed at the man.

The man blinked, "Then who are you!" he demanded.

Then the attacker looked back at him and was quiet for a few minutes, then he replied "They call me...Ghost..."

As the night proceeded, Heather couldn’t get that guy out of her mind. She didn’t even know his name and yet he’d somehow managed to nestle into her thoughts. Around 3:30 in the morning she’d decided to call it a night and retreated into her tent, in the morning she’d have to pick up and leave.

"Look bud, do ya really wanna kill me, so close to witnesses!" the man asked Ghost, reffering to the nearby protesters.

"I think I'll manage." Was the Ghost's reply... then a single gunshot echoed through the city.

Heather shot up at the sound of a gun shot. She groaned and got out of her sleeping bag and ventured outside. “I thought I told you guys, this is PEACEFUL!” But when everyone else was asleep she faltered. Was there a mugging? Should she call the…police? No. If Heather knew one thing, it was to never involve police when trying to keep things peaceful. Heather sighed and sat outside her tent, to afraid to actually go back to sleep.

Morning came quickly, and soon police had the ally, taped off as a crime scene. News vans surrounded the scene and the police roamed around.

The protest had dissolved when morning hit, no one wanted to face the music when it came to cops. Heather now sat at a local Starbucks, sidding a vente' skinny vanilla latte' and hovering through her emails on the laptop that he dad had bought her.

Atticus and one of his co-workers came into the star bucks. They where dressed like any other guys off the street. Except for the badges that they wore on necklace chains stating "NYPD, Detective." Atticus didn't notice heather at first, he and his companion just walked up to the counter to buy coffee.

Heather looked up from her laptop to see the guy from last night, still wearingthe wrist band. On a normal day, if Heather had showered recently, she'd of called him over. But she felt rather grubby, and decided against it.

While they waited on coffee the other detective looked at Atticus. "You think this is another Ghost kill?" he asked.

Atticus shrugged "We're in New York, this could be anybody."

"But Soprano, this victim's a serial killer... that's who Ghost targets..." his companion whispered.

Atticus was about to reply, but he noticed Heather from the corner of his eye and couldn't help but stare at her for a moment, a small smile came to his face.

"Here you go boys." an elderly man came up and sat their coffee's on the counter, Atticus jumped and quickly looked away from Heather.

Heather caught the guy staring at her and she cracked a small smile and blushed madly. She caught herself and tried to compose the redness in her face, but failed. She tried to act as is she hadn't seen him, but their eyes had met, he had seen her. Heather sighed and sipped her coffee, wondering if he'd say hello or not.

"Thanks." Atticus's companion said before turning and hurrying back out the door.

"Thank you." Atticus took his coffee and turned starting more slowly out toward the door, trying to think of what to do, he couldn't just stop and talk to her. He had to go back to that crime scene... but since when did he care about being late for work. He walked over to her flashing a bright smile, "Hi." he greeted wondering if she remembered him, he hadn't even realized he had on his bracelet

"Hello there, mystery-guy-who-never-told-me-his-name!" Heather said, all ready giving the guy a pet name. But she did that with everyone she met. She always thought of funny pet names.

Atticus blinked, "Oh! I-I'm De-... err... Atticus, Atticus Soprano." he introduced, he cut himself off before he could use his title 'Detective Atticus Soprano.'

Heather tapped two fingers to her lips in thought. She whipped out a pen and wrote an observation se had about Atticus quickly on her hand then switched her gaze back up to him. What an interesting name. If only her's were as interesting.
"Tell me, Atticus, are you Italian? You're last name, Soprano, is Italian. Am I correct?" Heathers was obsessed with last names and their meanings.