Tuesday, December 19, 2006

   Cream Filling & Nougat: Half-Julkalender (Chapter VII)
[I feel like I need to rush this one since it's getting late and I have a 6am work shift . . . we'll see where the story takes me like always, though.
And yes, Nougat's old partner was named Henry. Like the chocolate bar.]


Nougat was rocketing through the streets as Cream worked his phone; the pieces were finally starting to fall into place.
"Alright, thanks again," Cream said, writing down the last bits of notes into the notepad. "I'll keep ya posted if we need anything else, bye." Nougat looked over briefly to see his elated partner's eyes beaming.
"We happy?" Nougat asked.
"Oh, we very happy, yes," Cream replied. "You just keep hauling ass to Hiopat Station and we'll stay happy . . ."

Nougat did not need much help to understand what Cream was thinking. Once the younger detective mentioned buses, most of the theories sprang immediately to the front of his mind. Once again, Nougat kept a careful eye out for any radar traps their fellow officers might have been waiting for anyone else driving through the city at almost twice the speed limit when they could. After finally getting this lead, they could not afford to stop anymore.

"Hello," Cream said into his cell phone after dialing the city transit department, "My name is Detective Cream Filling of the city police department. I wanted to ask you . . ." Cream paused when Nougat hit a patch of black ice, having to control his sliding. ". . . I wanted to ask you who was driving the one-fifty-four bus line from about five-fifteen 'til . . . well, 'til the end of the trip?"

Nougat listened as carefully as he could while Cream asserted his police influence to get the information they needed. To him, clearly the person on the other side of the conversation was not completely sold on the validity of Cream's position, so the detective had to assert badge numbers and references they could check then or later. Nevertheless, Nougat was impressed with how quickly his partner made progress in the call; by the third red light, he had the driver's name and a number through which he could contact him.

"Hey Noug'," Cream said, keying the new number into his phone, "you wonder if we're maybe hauling ass to Hiopat Station a little prematurely?"
"Every minute, Whip'," Nougat replied. Cream grinned.
"But we're still gonna keep hauling ass to there, aren't we?"
"You bet, Whip'."
"Awesome."

With that, Cream pressed "send" and put the phone up to his ear.
"Hello, Mr. Frank Foethe?" Cream asked. "Hi, this is Detective Cream Filling, and I wanted to ask you a few questions . . . no, don't worry, it's nothing bad . . . well it is, but it's not your fault . . ." Nougat chopped Cream in the chest again. "Never mind that . . ." Nougat shook his head slowly - all the respect he had from Cream's ability to talk his way through the transit people had immediately evaporated.

Nougat braked hard when he saw a patrol car just around a corner and then began cursing at it, boasting his ability to evade detection with taunts that went unheard.
"So Frank," began Cream, "do you recall seeing a little girl board your bus at maybe about five-forty, five-fifty tonight? Seven years old, red hair . . . purple coat . . ."

As Cream continued his description, Nougat slowly crossed his fingers across the top of his steering wheel. For better or worse, this answer controlled how the rest of the night went. The two of them would have a much longer and potentially unresolved night ahead of them if Vezel was not on that bus . . .

"She was?" Cream said, simultaneously shooting his fist up into the air and into the roof of Nougat's car. Nougat pumped his fist as well, mouthing silent shouts of 'yes' to himself. "When did she get off the bus, do you remember?" As Cream listened, Nougat started slowing down. It fully dawned on him then that even if she was on the bus, it was possible she disembarked at any one of the stops before Hiopat Station. Luckily for them, he saw Cream punch a silent fist out and then forward, pointing emphatically for him to drive on. With a nod, Nougat started speeding up.

"Okay, thank you," Cream said before hanging up. Right afterwards, he hollered joyously and pumped his fist into the air again. "Hiopat Station it is!"
"Yea-hah!" Nougat shouted back. "We friggin' finally have a friggin' trail to friggin' follow!"
"Well then drive, old man! Dri-" Cream stopped himself as they both saw another patrol car in their vicinity. Nougat slammed back to well under the speed limit - still, the elation the two men had at the moment crept past their barely contained faces.

"Do seven year olds have the attention span to stick around a train station at night for two hours?" Cream wondered out loud.
"I doubt it," Nougat answered back, "but I really hope to all luck she did . . . . ."


Once they were a few blocks away from Hiopat Station, Cream's phone played a ringtone. Checking the display, he answered quickly.
"'Mel?" he said. "Yeah, we're okay . . . actually, really okay . . ."
"That's 'Mel?" Nougat asked. Cream answered him by motioning with his hand for the other detective to be quiet and to watch the road.
"Did Selleri come over? We felt that'd be . . . oh good, she did . . . alright, well you can tell her that we're currently following a really good lead right now . . . yeah! She took a bus . . ." Cream smiled and laughed quietly as 'Mel spoke. ". . . yeah, we didn't know if seven year olds knew how to do that either . . . . ."


[I have the final arc of the story in my head now! It's gonna require more days than I have, so starting from Thursday onwards I'm gonna post a new chapter every day/night so I can have a bit of a day's breather before Christmas. I mean, the chapter pacing'll just work better this way, so it must be done. Still, speeding up a story rather than slowing it down is new to this series, so yay!
Cream Filling & Nougat Trivia: another easy-ish one . . . at the end of "World's Finest", Nougat had a concussion as they rode in the ambulance; what did Cream have?]
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Sunday, December 17, 2006

   Cream Filling & Nougat: Half-Julkalender (Chapter VI)
[Red officially sucks for getting me to do CF&N trivia and then not even coming out to take part. Damnit Red, I expect more from the biggest Cream Filling & Nougat fan in the world (I'd wager, anyway). Other than that, I did throw in some famous surnames into there that very few people will ever get. Also, whether drugs have anything to do with it has yet to be determined, though I probably wouldn't hold my breath if I were you guys.
And Nougat is older than Cream by eight years; it comes up in one of the mid-chapters of "Third Helping".]


"Alright, let's recap," Nougat said as the two sat in the cold, idling car. "Where in this situation are we right now?" Cream flipped open the pad in his hands and went over his notes.
"Okay," Cream started, "Seven year old with an extensive description disappears, happened some time from about five-twenty to five-thirty, was compelled to dress warm which further suggests she left on her own . . ."

"Hold up," Nougat said, pausing his partner.
"What?"
"How did you get 'compelled to dress warm' while we were at the house?"
"Oh, the uh . . ." Cream lowered the notepad to his lap and his eyes trailed upwards. ". . . oh right, from Selleri's thing about how she asked her about where her scarf was before she pulled a Houdini on her." Nougat tilted his head back in recollection.
"Oh right, that bit . . . alright, sorry, keep going . . ." Cream brought the notepad back up to reading height.

"Kid keeps a tidy room, sorts things, is smart as hell, draws things she doesn't have the vocabulary to express . . ."
"Another ellaboration, I'll presume," Nougat interrupted, "and one with which I wholeheartedly agree." Cream nodded in acknowledgment and continued reading.
"Kid has loaded herself with tons of useful coinage for a currently unknown purpose . . . suggestions that she'll use it to buy things are rampant . . ." The detectives laughed guiltily at the comment. Again, the joke came at an especially inappropriate moment, but the levity was certainly needed. If not for anything else, to keep the two of them emotionally distanced at least a little - they statistically knew all too well what one very possible end for Vezel could entail.
"Do seven year olds know how to count change?" Cream asked half-seriously.
"Sure they do," Nougat answered. "They just take longer . . ."

Things became serious again after another brief snicker between themselves.
"Alright Detective Filling, do continue," Nougat said.
"Child has an extremely protective mother - profesionally speaking, of course - and also has some very specific rules regarding said-protective mother . . ." Nougat's eyebrow rose like a spark.
"Hey," he said, "very specific rules . . . you suppose that would also involve fairly specific routines?" Cream rubbed his chin fleetingly as he thought.
"Yeah, I'd say that'd be a fair guess," he said, "or inference . . . deduction . . . . . thing . . ." The younger detective started tripping over his own thoughts, and his face contorted the more he thought about it. ". . . yeah, yeah, whatever . . ." Nougat just smiled to himself.
"Okay . . . next?"

With the heat finally starting to come through in the vents on the dashboard, Cream felt more at ease as he read the notes about Selleri trusting her ex-husband with Vezel.
"Okay, we're on to dad now . . ." he said, though he corrected himself afterwards. ". . . no wait, I didn't write anything while we were in the townhouse . . ."
"Okay, then let's go over what we learned in there," Nougat stated; Cream returned the notepad back to the glove compartment of the car.

"The father seems like a pretty nice guy," Nougat said, starting them off.
"Definitely," Cream agreed, "didn't totally chew us out for breaking into his house, amazingly."
"Didn't really back down from us either," Nougat added.
"Yeah, that too . . . so would you say the mother's previous statement that he loves his daughter and would never do anything like kidnap her hold up?" This time Nougat brushed his chin slowly, thinking.
"Hmm . . . . . I say we weren't there to really confirm one way or the other," the other detective said. "But still . . . I lean towards yes, that the mother's statement holds up under scrutiny."
"Ditto," Cream agreed. "Just goes about it in as masculine a way as he can pretend . . . or something."

Cream put on his seatbelt almost subconsciously despite their not having any new destinations at the time, drawing an odd exchange of glances between himself and his partner.
"So," Nougat said, "he doesn't get to play with his daughter much anymore because he's divorced with her mom, and neither of them have the time to pick her up or drop her off . . ." Cream made a noise, stopping Nougat.
"Wait, wait," he said. "I thought Selleri always picked her up from school every day, so she has time for that?"
"Time to pick her up from school when school ends, not time to drive her to her father's house so they can hang out," Nougat corrected; Cream just went silent for a moment after his lapse in memory.

"You got any theories yet, Whip'?" Nougat asked once he was tired of only hearing the car engine humming.
"Yes and no," Cream replied. "I figure . . . I have no whys answered, but I'm getting tons of who and where . . . actually, not that many where . . ." After another brief silence, Nougat punched the roof of his car, cursing out a frustrated laugh.

"For the love of toast and all that is wholesome, I'm sick of sitting on this hill!" the older detective declared. "I move we at least drive back to the first house where the girl originally disappeared and snoop around there - and maybe break into the house as well - and get some more ideas near the last scene of the crime . . . disappearance . . . . . ah hell!" His tirade clearly amused Cream. "You agree yet or what?!"
"Yeah, yeah!" Cream answered enthusiastically. "Let's go already, I feel like it was warmer there anyways . . ."

Once again, Nougat was motoring through the slushy streets, barely keeping control of his car on the road; Cream just lazily propped his head against the window and stared at the houses, and street signs that passed by his eye. If he hadn't known better, Cream would have presumed that he had hypnotized himself, thinking as intently about the informal case as he had when Nougat suddenly shocked him out of his trance.

"Oh hell!" Nougat said. "Yeah, I've lost it . . ."
"What?" Cream asked.
"We just passed Quincad Street," he explained, "and I swore it said 'Guingab' for a second . . . I mean, I know Guingab, she's a fun person . . . cute, too . . ."
"I'm gonna tell 'Mel you said that," Cream passively threatened.
"Oh screw off," Nougat said, chopping the other detective across the chest. "I'm just sayin', if we don't find this kid I'm gonna be pissed off . . ." As the words left his mouth, Nougat began chuckling. "Speaking of being pissed off . . ."

Nougat made a motion towards the bus stopped against the curb in front of them, letting passengers off. Nougat shook his head at their luck.
"I could probably pass him, y'know," he said, "but with the roads, I just don't wanna . . ."

"Noug'!" Cream shouted, sitting upright in his seat and scaring his partner half to death. Nougat looked at Cream and was extremely curious upon seeing the fire in his younger partner's eyes.
"Alright, share!" he commanded; Cream was practically hopping out of his seat.

". . . do seven year olds know how to ride the bus?!"


[Ah, I finally get to state my point that I've had in my head all week. I feel good about that. Anyways, next Cream Filling & Nougat trivia question time! I'll ask an easier one:
What is the name of Nougat's now retired former partner from his beat cop days?]
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Friday, December 15, 2006

   Cream Filling & Nougat: Half-Julkalender (Chapter V)
[Anyone else noticing that Cream and Nougat are being real assholes lately? Man . . . fun times . . .]


"Whadayathink, cops, security, or the guy himself?" Nougat asked, knowing it really did not matter who had just come through the door. Cream shook his head apathetically in response.
"So, you wanna try to go out off the balcony and drop three floors, or go have a conversation?" the younger detective asked.
"To hell with jumping!" Nougat answered immediately, amusing Cream despite the situation. "Let's go have a chat with whomever's here. It'll save us the trouble of hunting him down . . . I mean, if it is him . . ."

With a shrug and another hard sigh but masked with smiles, the two of them headed down the stairs, out of the master bedroom and back into the living room on the ground floor. Standing just inside the front door was a tall man in a suit and trench coat with broad shoulders, knuckles white and teeth clenched. Cream and Nougat remained as neutral as possible as they stepped down the final steps, trying to not appear afraid or aggressive.
"Who the hell are you and why are you in my house?" the man said slowly, staring intently at the two of them.
"Mr. Carbono, I presume?" Nougat asked, lifting his hands slightly off from his sides and turning his palms ever so slightly towards the new face.
"You're in no position to be asking me questions!" he shot back.
"Okay," Nougat said, raising his left hand while reaching to his back pocket with his right, "I'm Detective Nougat, behind me is Detective Filling . . . right now I'm reaching for my wallet so I can show you my badge . . ." Cream took the hint and smoothly reached for his wallet as well.

Hidrato calmed down slightly as he stepped closer to inspect the two badges - only slightly, however.
"I've done nothing wrong," he stated, "why have you two broke-. . ." Hidrato cut himself off before he said something he feared he might regret. ". . . so why are you two here?"

"Your daughter Vezel disappeared from your ex-wife's house earlier this evening," Nougat said.
"What?!" Hidrato exclaimed, stepping back. Flashing glances between the two men in front of him, Hidrato tensed up once again.
"You think I kidnapped her or something?" he asked, putting together the clues before him. Nougat ignored his question directly.
"Where've you been tonight?" he asked; Cream just kept watching Hidrato carefully.

"Late night at work," Hidrato said. "I was there until five-thirty . . . you can call my office if you need to confirm that." Cream started reaching back for the long notepad in his coat, but Nougat motioned for him to ignore it - all the while, he never took his eyes away from Hidrato. "Afterwards, I was just at the shops nearby looking for some quick Christmas presents until I got called by the security company saying that my alarm had gone off . . . then I rushed back here."
"Kinda gutsy, don't you think?"
"It's my house." Nougat and Hidrato locked eyes solidly.

"Where do you work?" Nougat asked.
"Dolsky and Mil Law Firm," Hidrato answered.
"Guess that makes us on the same team," Nougat commented without changing his expression a single time. "What do you do?"
"Paralegal."
"Under which lawyer?"
"Guingab."

Nougat paused for a moment, seemingly never losing focus.
"What were your names again?" Hidrato asked.
"Nougat, and Filling," the detective answered. "Considering reporting us for break and enter? 'Cause you can, you know." Cream immediately felt a jolt of anxiety through his spine at the thought.
"We'll see," Hidrato replied, tightening the corner of his mouth to an almost-smile. Cream quickly shook the nervous feeling out of his body and continued watching the quite calm Hidrato.

"What do you know about Vezel's disappearance so far?" Hidrato asked.
"For purposes of this investigation, I'd rather ask you some more questions first," Nougat said back. Hidrato begrudgingly nodded.
"When was the last time you saw Vezel?"
"Three weeks ago, it was on a Saturday."
"Did you speak with her at all after that?"
"Yes, over the phone last Monday night."
"What did you two talk about?"

Hidrato let his jaw drop slightly and he rolled his eyes, frustrated.
"Is this honestly important to know?" he asked.
"Yes," Nougat answered right after. Hidrato closed his eyes and sighed as he quickly thought back.
"I don't know," he said, "how school was for her, how her mother was doing, when we might hang out again some time . . . just normal stuff like that."
"So when did you two decide to see each other again?"
"Alright, that is getting too personal!"

Hidrato stormed towards the kitchen and to the telephone on the counter.
"This answer might give us insight to what she was thinking!" Nougat said before Hidrato could pick up the phone; instead, his shoulders slumped and he clenched his hands repeatedly. Upon his eventual turning around, Cream and Nougat were presented with a very different looking Hidrato Carbono from before. Now he was definitely scared.
"We didn't plan anything yet," he finally answered, a clear waver in his voice. "Both her mother and I are pretty busy during the week and she has to be in bed early enough for school, so she and I wouldn't have any real decent amount of time to spend together." He leaned against the kitchen counter harder as he spoke. "Also, neither of us have the time to pick her up or drop her off at the moment, so she'd have no ride . . ."

Cream nudged his partner from behind.
"I think he's had enough for now," he said quietly, "we should go." Nougat nodded in agreement.
"Mister Carbono," he said, "thanks for your time . . . and sorry about tresspassing and everything . . ." Hidrato hurried a nod in acceptance.
"You find my daughter and we'll call it even," he said before pausing to recompose himself not unlike his ex-wife earlier in the night. "And if I can be of any more help . . ."
"We should be okay for now," Cream interjected, speaking clearly for the first time in a while.

As the two detectives made their way back out of the townhouse, Nougat stopped and turned around again.
"If Vezel were outside on the street by herself, would she manage?" he asked. Hidrato scoffed.
"What are you talking about?! She's only seven!" Nougat blinked and lowered his head slightly.
"Sorry . . . never mind. Good night, Mister Carbono - and I promise, we'll find your daughter."

Back outdoors, Cream shivered and pulled his trench coat tighter around himself; again, Nougat smirked.
"So," the older detective said once they were well away from Hidrato's townhouse, "doth thine eyes deceive, or no?" Cream grinned.
"I don't think the guy did it," he answered back. "Breathing rate, eye placement, body language . . . I'd say he was more concerned that there were two strangers standing in his house . . . I mean, apart from the whole thing where he was definitely surprised to hear his girl was missing . . ."
"Yeah," Nougat affirmed, "I think he's clean too . . . so what now?"

Leaving the outer gate of the townhouse complex, the two detectives saw a pair of police officers heading their way.
"You two here about the security system?" Cream called out.
"Yes, detective, we are," answered one.
"We did it," Cream said, still keeping his arms close to his body.
"I'm sorry?" the uniformed officer said.
"We took care of the call."
"Oh . . ."

The two officers insisted on going in anyway, so Cream and Nougat shrugged and continued on towards the car.

"Hell of a walk if you don't have a ride," Cream said, still shivering slightly.
"Yeah . . ." Nougat agreed. As the two arrived at the car - and almost slipped past it on the slushy sidewalk - Nougat zoned out slightly to the chagrin of the freezing Cream.
"Yo, old man! Doors!" he said impatiently. Nougat shook his head out and let them both in.

"Hey Whip'," he said after turning the ignition "would a seven year old be able to walk this distance?"
"Are you seriously considering that?!" Cream asked incredulously. Nougat shrugged.
"I'll get back to you on that one . . . . . so where we going now?"


[Cream Filling & Nougat Trivia (because Red suggested it): By how many years is Nougat older than Cream?]
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Wednesday, December 13, 2006

   Cream Filling & Nougat: Half-Julkalender (Chapter IV)
[So there I was, chatting with a bunch of people I haven't chatted with in weeks . . . when suddenly I was all like, "oh yeah, I need to write a story!" Good times . . .]


Once again, Nougat was speeding over the gravelly salt and slush of the road. Oak Street was not a terrible distance from them, but neither was it especially close.
"You know what the worst part of all this is?" Nougat casually mentioned during a lull in the conversation.
"What's that, Noug'?" Cream responded.
"You know daddy most likely didn't do it."
"And yet he's still the best lead right now, right?"
"Right . . . sucks, dun'nit?"
"Mm . . . sucks . . ."

The conversation drifted away again as their car came closer and closer to their destination. For the most part, both detectives were just crunching numbers quietly, only speaking when something of perceived importance came to mind. Naturally, this was harder for Nougat who was both thinking about the missing girl and any hazards on the road - speed traps ranking high among them, being that they were off duty and he simply did not feel the time wasted would be worth it. Indeed, the two of them had felt they wasted enough time convincing Selleri Carbono to go and wait for news at 'Mel's place rather than alone at home; they assured her that if Vezel did indeed come back home, they'd have eyes and ears waiting for her. Of course, they weren't exactly sure what those eyes and ears would be, but they nevertheless convinced her that they existed. In this case, their concern for the mother's wellbeing was on the same fair ground as that of the daughter's.

"Hey Whip'," Nougat started once they were caught behind a bus dropping off passengers, "do seven year olds know how to tell time?" Cream's face contorted at the question.
"The hell's that supposed to mean?" he asked back.
"I'm just sayin'," Nougat said, "if someone told you, 'go outside at five-twenty and wait for me,' would you have known what to do if you were seven?" Cream nodded, now understanding.
"Uhh . . . maybe?" he answered partially. "I dunno, you?"
"Haven't been seven for a while, man," Nougat replied.

The bus pulled back to the street, and Cream and Nougat went back to silently contemplating their situation. Eventually they came to the address Selleri had given them; before them was a large townhouse complex that stretched up with the street's incline. Again, Cream dashed out of the car before Nougat could kill the engine. By the time Nougat walked over to the security gate, Cream was already waiting for a response from the intercom.

"Okay, I know I didn't walk that fast," Nougat commented as Cream stepped from side to side, visibly discomforted by the low temperature. "How long has the thing been ringing?"
"Too long," Cream flatly answered. "Alright, screw this, he's not home . . ." Nougat snickered.
"Damn Whip', you really suck in cold weather," he said with a smirk.
"Yeah?" Cream replied. "Then you get us in."
"Hey, you're the one that picks the locks," Nougat retorted. Cream's voice rose comically to Nougat's ears.
"I'm not freakin' picking a lock that's directly under surveillance!" he said, half-squawking it out in the process and motioning to the security camera against the first townhouse directly behind the metal gate. "And why the crap would I bring lock picks to a Christmas party?!"

Nougat shamelessly pretended to hide his amusement from his partner.
"Alright ya wuss, follow me," he said, walking back to the sidewalk and down the hill; Cream was quick to follow.

The older detective brought them to the open parkade nestled lower on the hill, below that particular section of townhouses.
"They built these places with the parking gates further into the undercover area," he explained. "That way, there's some accessible undercover parking for visitors, and a way for garbage and recycling collection without having to buzz anyone in."

Sure enough, the two quickly found themselves walking past two pungent dumpsters and a line of blue bins along the inside wall of the parkade.
"So yeah, the door from here to inside the townhouse is unlocked for visitor access," he continued. Cream could only shake his head and smirk.
"Helluva security compromise," he said. Nougat nodded in agreement.
"But hey, the actual houses are locked, and they can't steal the cars behind that gate or the locked doors on that side . . ." Nougat trailed off and stopped just before they came to the door to the stairwell. "Oh yeah Whip', check the garbage for something you can use to pick Carbono's door . . ."
"Oh hell no . . ."
"Do it!" After much grumbling and a very brief search, Cream quickly took apart some wire-lined ribbon near the top of the dumpster pile; he also gave Nougat a light punch in the arm when he returned to him. Nougat again only laughed.

Once finally inside the main townhouse complex, the two quickly found Hidrato's place not too far from the garage entrance; they then swore as they saw the security company sticker on the outside of the front door.
"Alright old man," Cream said as he bent the bits of wire into useful shape, "watch my ass . . . and I'm gonna kick your ass if the alarm goes off . . ."
"Obviously the alarm's gonna go off," Nougat replied. "I say daughter's name, maybe backwards. You?"
"Daughter's birthday," Cream answered back. Nougat covered his mouth with his hand as his partner went back to picking the lock; he knew it was an inappropriate moment, but he was still smirking about the whole situation. Nevertheless, Cream was able to turn the knob . . . and sure enough, a steady beeping greeted them as he pushed the door in.

Cream rushed around the door and began pumping possible numbers into the security system, praying for a lucky guess . . . unfortunately, he guessed wrong and the beeping continued. As he frantically tried different codes or combinations of the numbers he already had, Nougat shouted other possible ideas for him. It was all too late, and the house alarm started blaring, causing both detectives to jump.
"Fr . . . damnit!" Cream shouted, pounding more possible combinations into the system. "Work!" Wrong code. "Screw you security system!" Wrong code. "I'm cold! I'm pissed off! Just let me . . ."

With one more guess, the security system beeped one more time and went eerily silent. A wide smile slowly crept across Cream's face.
"Daughter's birthday, yeah," he said, slowing his breathing and calming himself down, "but year first, then month and day . . ." Nougat felt his pulse behind his back, out of his partner's sight.
"That was still just a lucky guess," he said, finally.
"And you're complaining?!" Cream returned. Nougat said nothing.

"Well, we're in," the younger detective said as he stomped the remaining slush off his shoes and walked into the small townhouse. "Let's get this over with . . . Vezel!"
"Vezel, are you here?!" Nougat called out, also entering and heading straight for the broom closet opposite the kitchen.

It was then that the phone began ringing.
"Security company wanting to know what the suck is going on?" Cream suggesting, closing the closet door upon finding no one.
"Must be," Nougat confirmed. "Yeah, we need to hurry up . . . Vezel?!"

The two of them rushed and searched all three floors of the tall but narrow townhouse, from the bathrooms to the office - no Vezel.
"Wow," Cream said, still in a somewhat frantic state, "we're so screwed right now . . ." Nougat came out of the top floor bathroom, shaking his head.
"Not even a trace of anything that could suggest that she was here," he said. ". . . kinda like what we figured at the beginning . . ." Cream held back a desire to punch the wall.
"No warrant, not even remotely good suggestion that she was here . . ." Cream sighed. "Seriously, what the suck were we thinking?" Both detectives shook their heads, frustrated at how clearly bad things looked.
"Yeah," Nougat said, "we better get the hell out of here before . . ."

The older detective froze mid-sentence; both had heard the front door downstairs opening and closing . . .


[Fun fact: my brother's townhouse complex has the very same unlocked parkade door thingy I mentioned in this chapter!]
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Monday, December 11, 2006

   Cream Filling & Nougat: Half-Julkalender (Chapter III)
[It's almost 1am as I start this. And yeah, I still don't know what's happening in this chapter exactly . . .]


Cream felt the need to chime back in as the energy in Vezel's bedroom rose dramatically.
"Perhaps leaving it at that is still a little misleading," he said in regards to his partner's prior statement. "She most likely did leave the front door of her own accord, but that doesn't take into account anything else that might have influenced her prior or happened to her after." Selleri kept a strong face, but knew that her daughter was still very much in trouble.

Nougat flipped back through the stack of drawings on the desk; he still couldn't get over the details in the pictures. Meanwhile, Cream continued his brainstorming.
"It's possible that maybe once she was out the door someone could have grabbed her," the younger detective said, "or maybe she was even told to come out and meet someone outside?" Selleri immediately shook her head.
"I hate the idea that someone could have grabbed her off the sidewalk, that'd be horrible," she said, propping her shoulder against the door frame. "Still, I like the idea that someone could have told her to leave like that even less."
"Well I can understand that, Ms. Selleri, that's always the worst fear of any . . ." Cream was cut off.
"Oh no, you misunderstand," Selleri stated. "I dislike that notion more because I just can't think of an opportunity for Vezel to speak with anyone to set up such a plan."

Nougat put the drawings back down, the drawing on top of the stack having what he figured was Vezel sitting in a time machine - it was a large contraption that had a clock motif, and each clock-face had motion lines suggesting that the hands were moving backwards. After hearing Selleri's statement, he looked towards the curiously more confident mother.
"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked her.
"Obviously I can't say for sure," she answered, "but the chances are really slim . . ." She rubbed her neck slightly before continuing. "I always drop her off and pick her up from school, so there's little chance of strangers speaking to her during those times."
"How about when she's over at friends' houses?" Cream suggested.
"She mostly only goes over to a few houses now and then, and all of us . . . the mothers and the like . . . we all have a system where if any of us go anywhere with each other's kids, we call the others to tell them."
"And you're sure it works every time?" Cream asked.
"We all want to protect our kids, so we can't afford to lose the trust of the other parents . . . not being able to trust our kids playing with each other would just be too cruel for them." Cream blinked and shook his head slightly, veritably surprised by the notion.
"Wow, parenting has changed a lot," he said honestly.

"How about phone calls?" Nougat asked.
"I tell Vezel not to pick up the phone," Selleri replied. "So if ever, it's usually just a friend asking her to come over, or . . ." Selleri paused for a moment before again smirking slightly, lips tight. ". . . or if her father wants to talk to her . . ."

Cream and Nougat immediately perked up, as if both had just been slapped in the face for sleeping in class or something to that degree.
"How often does your ex-husband call to talk with Vezel?" Nougat asked, a kind of gleam now in the back of his eye.
"Once or twice a week," Selleri replied. "He also visits and takes her out at least every month and usually more . . . but I think that's really good for both of them, so I . . ."

Selleri looked at both men and immediately knew what they were thinking.
"You two aren't suggesting that . . ." She was cut off.
"Miss Carbono, when was the last time your ex-husband called the house?" Nougat asked, still noting Selleri's complete confidence.
"Yesterday," she answered flatly. Cream pressed the matter.
"Where does he live?" he asked, stepping forward towards Selleri.
"No . . ." she said, "no, he wouldn't have done it. Hidrato loves Vezel with all his heart."

"Please, Miss Carbono," Nougat said, also stepping forward towards Selleri who had now backed herself into the hallway, "we need to know his address. Your saying that he loves Vezel so much can only force us to consider this more and more." Selleri remained confident with her ideals, but less so with her position in the current discussion.
"He agreed to give me custody because we didn't want Vezel to have to go through the pain of a custody battle," she asserted. "He wouldn't wreck all of that now, after we've been adjusting so well since." As the two detectives pursued Selleri, Nougat heard a flutter and saw that his walking past had blown a few of the drawings off the desk. He quickly picked up and replaced the time machine picture, a picture of heavy snowfall, and a picture of a red-headed girl - presumably Vezel - boarding a bus; he followed behind Cream into the hallway.

"Are you absolutely willing to bet your daughter's life that her father would not have taken her?" Cream demanded. Though he would not show it, he absolutely hated having to ask such a question that was clearly causing Selleri distress. Nevertheless, he needed to make his point.
". . . . . yes, I would," Selleri answered, a slight waver in her voice. "You don't know Hidrato . . ."

"That's right," Nougat replied as he stepped forward and cornered Selleri against the wall and Cream, "we don't know Hidrato . . . and because of that he's our best suspect right now." Selleri looked down at her feet; she knew he was right. "Miss Carbono, we need to know where we can find him." Selleri looked towards Cream and he quickly flipped open the notepad.

" . . . Seven-three-three-one Oak Street," she finally conceded.


[I just barely have a sense for how I'm gonna keep this story moving along, finally . . . that's gotta be a good thing . . .]
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Saturday, December 9, 2006

   Cream Filling & Nougat: Half-Julkalender (Chapter II)
[I think it's noteworthy to say right now that for a series of stories about two detectives, this current story is actually the first one to be told in the style of a detective story!]


"So you got most of the info?" Nougat asked as he turned off the main street onto the smaller residential one.
"More or less," Cream answered back, pocketing his cell phone and looking over the notes he had just jotted down. Before he could speak, both took a moment to quickly adjust to the new, unplowed road with hard snow packed over it. Nougat decellerated and took a breath, remembering that they were almost at Selleri's house and did not need to rush as frantically anymore.

"So let's see . . ." Cream said, reading from the long, black notepad, ". . . name's Vezel Carbono, seven years old, three-foot-seven tall, about fifty pounds, medium-to-slim build, blue eyes, straight shoulder-length red hair . . . and . . . . . was last seen wearing blue jeans and a red and green sweater with Christmas trees on it."
"I guess she was already dressed for the party, huh?" Nougat wondered out loud.
"Seems like it," Cream replied, pocketing the notepad inside his trenchcoat. "Hey, do seven year olds dress themselves or do their parents still do that?"
"They probably dress themselves, I'd imagine," Nougat answered. "Why, think that might be important to know?"
"Oh yeah, just tryin' to get into the mind of the victim . . . or suspect . . . or . . ." Cream stopped to think some more. ". . . I dunno, quarry?"
"This bit probably isn't important to know."
"Yeah."

Cream was already out the door while Nougat was still shutting off the engine. Cream quickly took in everything he could see as he headed up to the house; the moderately sized house, the single string of old Christmas lights across the edge of the roof gutters, and the apparent family of waist-high snowmen - one smaller snowman between two larger ones - sitting at the end of the heavily-salted walkway. Nougat jogged up to the house, snow melter crunching under his shoes, while Cream waited for an answer at the door.

Cream could already feel himself getting ready to emotionally detach himself from the situation as Selleri opened the door; her eyes were puffed and red and she just had a sense of illness written all over her face.
"Hello, Ms. Carbono," Cream said. Nougat stepped in and nodded quickly.
"We got here as soon as we could," the elder detective said. Selleri tightened her lips and nodded back.
"Please come in you two," she said, stepping over with the door, "and thank you for coming."

The two detectives pulled their feet from their shoes and headed into the hallway behind Selleri. The hallway itself was short with few things of notice save a sparse line of old family portraits showing a simple age progression for the little girl in the foreground of each photo. Selleri led them into the kitchen
"Ms. Carbono," Nougat began as she sat them all down at a small round table with a list of phone numbers on it, "please tell us everything you remember from the last time you saw Vezel to the point you noticed she was missing." Cream retrieved the notepad from his coat as Selleri started.

"It was about five-twenty when I told her to go to her room and change for 'Mel's Christmas party," she said. Cream and Nougat quickly exchanged a glance as their earlier question between each other was deftly answered; Selleri continuned. "I went to take a quick shower after that, and was probably only in there for about ten minutes or so . . . maybe fifteen, but it wasn't long in any case . . ." Cream recorded her information swiftly.
"So after your shower," Nougat said, "you came out and noticed . . . no wait . . ." Nougat stopped himself as he ran all the information back through his head. ". . . the sweater she was wearing, was that what she changed into or was she wearing it before?"
"She wasn't wearing it before, no," Selleri replied. "No, I saw her in it when I was still in the shower. It was through a reflection in the bathroom mirror to the hall outside, where she was . . . I usually leave my door open like that in case she needs me."

Cream stopped his writing after deciding certain points were unnecessary to record.
"Did she need anything?" Nougat asked.
"I guess," Selleri answered. "She was asking about where her scarf was, I think." Nougat noticed a sad smile momentarily present itself on Selleri's face. "I just remember the two of us yelling back and forth over the noise of the running water . . ." She trailed off and again pulled her lips tight together. Again, the two detectives exchanged another knowing glance; they both knew Selleri needed time to recompose herself, but they simply did not have the time.
"Can we see her room?" Cream asked, breaking the short but telling silence. Selleri nodded and quickly turned her face away from the two, leading them back down the hall towards her daughter's bedroom.

It was a small room, with a single bed pushed against one wall, a dresser next to it, and a writing desk against the opposite wall; as befitting a seven year old, the chair next to the desk had a phone book with a cushion on top of it.
"Pretty tidy kid," Cream commented as he looked around the mostly clean room. "Or . . ."
"She does it herself," Selleri answered, sensing the question. "I suppose she's always been kind of good like that . . ." Nougat, meanwhile, was absorbed in the amount of paper and pencil crayons on the desk; he also noticed the number of drawings taped on all the walls all around them.

"Would you say Vezel is a pretty open person?" Nougat asked. "Or is she kind of quiet?"
"I'd have to say quiet, mostly," Selleri said. Nougat nodded.
"I had a feeling . . . also pretty good in school?"
"Very smart, yes." Cream looked towards his partner.
"Feel like sharing, Noug'?" he asked.
"Whip'," Nougat said, "you're young and emotional, right?" Before Cream could even begin to answer, his partner interrupted him. "Just look at the pictures she's been drawing . . ."

at first the younger detective could only see pictures drawn by a child . . . but as he went on, he was definitely catching on.
"This kid has a lot of things running through her head every day," he concluded, looking at the range of topics and ideas the young girl had seemingly brought up in each picture, ranging from going to school to any recent movies she may have seen; one even seemed to be her thoughts on the wars overseas.
"I have noticed that, yeah," Selleri added. "she doesn't speak a lot, but she's always thinking, looking around . . . . ."

Cream was thus compelled to look around once again.
"Damn Noug', good eye," he said quietly as his eyes fixed on the jar of coins on the desk. "Ms. Carbono, does Vezel collect just pennies or change in general?" Selleri noticed his gaze on the money jar.
"Change in general," she answered. "That's pretty much her new piggy bank after she filled up the last one and we smashed it before putting it into her account . . ." Cream nodded along as he continued scanning through the glass jar.
"I only ask because I don't see any quarters, nickels, or dimes in there right now . . ." Selleri looked back to the jar.
"It's true, it's usually a pretty good mix in there . . . this is new . . . . ."

Nougat scrunched his face slightly before looking to his partner.
"Okay, now you need to share . . ." he said.
"Well," Cream explained, "when I was a kid I saved coins too . . . but I always put pennies and nickels in one thing, and quarters and dimes in another different one . . ." Nougat smirked once he caught on.
"So one was your savings account, the other was chequing?" he queried.
"Something like that, yeah . . ." The logic made enough sense to Selleri, and the original sadness in her eyes was now replaced with a sort of excitement that perhaps they were indeed making progress. "So the question is, what reason would a seven year old girl have for suddenly wanting to have all that spending cash?"

"I'm not for sure yet," Nougat replied, "but I do have one thought that's pretty much for sure . . ." Selleri and Cream both looked at the other detective. ". . . for what it's worth, I don't think she was kidnapped or anything . . . she left this house on her own . . ."


[Well, this went on for longer than I had originally planned. But I'm happy with it. You?]
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Thursday, December 7, 2006

   Cream Filling & Nougat: Half-Julkalender (Chapter I)
[I'm hoping that explanation video is finally starting to work for people, 'cause I'm really sad that so many of you couldn't see it (YouTube uploading newbness). In any case, let's get this thing rolling already . . . it's been over a year . . .]


"What the heck took ya so long, it's cold out there!" Cream said with a furrowed brow and wide smile once 'Mel finally opened the door; she could only laugh back in response.
"Get your ass through the door, then, and shut up," she answered back. Cream came in and wrapped a firm hug around the smaller woman.
"Hello 'Mel."
"Hello Whip'." Cream soon felt a hand on the back collar of his trench coat tugging him further into the apartment. Getting the hint, he loosened his arms around 'Mel and moved further in.
"Kids these days," Nougat commented, "don't know how to share anymore . . ." With that, he hugged 'Mel and spun her around in a quick circle as she laughed lightly. "Merry Christmas, 'Mel."
"Right back at ya, Noug'."

"So I brought you a cake and a bottle of wine," Nougat said as he walked towards Cream who was already in the large apartment's kitchen.
"We brought you a cake and a bottle of wine," Cream asserted, "though I did select the wine specifically for--"
"Yes, yes, you have an amazing ability to play Eeny-Meeny--"
"Hey, old man, let me finish my sen--"
"...Miney-Moe."
"Jackass."
"And how." As the two sparred verbally yet again, 'Mel could only smirk and shake her head.

"So," Cream said, "I can't help but notice how empty it is here. I thought you were throwing a party?"
"What, you can't smell the freakin' turkey or something?" 'Mel replied.
"Oh no, the turkey I notice . . . and it smells lovely, by the way . . . it's the rest of the party . . . would you not agree with me, old man?" Nougat nodded from his position against the bar connected to the kitchen.
"I concur indeed, Whip' . . ." 'Mel groaned playfully; she knew what was about to happen.
"Cop mode already . . ." she muttered. "Alright, let's hear it . . ."

Nougat put down the cake he was carrying next to the bottle of wine that Cream had already placed on the bar.
"I think I'll allow my young colleague here to start things off . . . Detective Filling, if you would please . . ."
"I thank you, Detective Nougat," Cream said before clearing his throat audibly and falsely. "So first off, it is very true that you currently have a domesticated avian creature slowly roasting in the oven, as well as a large pot of boiled - soon to be flattened to a pasty consistency, I shall presume going by the cattle-brand shaped device next to the afore-mentioned pot . . ." 'Mel broke her silence.
"Skip ahead, please!" she pleaded, "you know big words, we get it!" Nougat chuckled quickly.
"Burn," he commented before Cream gave him a stern but amused glare. "Oh, do continue, Detective Colleague . . ."

Cream shook the distractions out of his head and went back to his observations.
"Anyway, as we have thusly explained, our gracious host has cooked enough food for . . . I'd say, about three dozen people. I also know for a fact that although this is a honkin' big apartment considering rates for places in the city, it would take quite an effort to comfortably fit that many people into this apartment . . . . . technically, the comfort of too many guests is besides the point, but still, the point that a great amount of food as been prepared, presumably for a great amount of people who are presently not here . . ."
"Uh huh . . ." 'Mel said, nodding slowly.
"Next," Cream continued, "I distinctly remember one particular phone call to our office, asking us if we were free to help you go and buy decorations for this alleged party . . . now, the two of us were working very hard that day and thus were unable to acquiesce to your request . . . can you confirm this, Detective Nougat?"
"I most certainly can, Detective Filling," Nougat answered.
"Thank you . . ." Cream responded before turning back to 'Mel, "but nevertheless, you told us you had gone anyhow on the own incredible strength of your own body. Of course, as all of us can plainly see, there is no hint of the aforementioned decorations anywhere in this apartment, is there not?" 'Mel smirked once again.

"Oh, there most certainly is, good detective sir!" she said, clasping her hands together and bouncing on her toes slightly. "If you would be so kind as to step out of my kitchen and into the living room, I'm sure you will find the boxes and bags under the coffee table completely accomodating to your inquiries . . ." Sure enough, as the two detectives peered over the large couch, they could see assorted packages under the glass of the coffee table surface. "And if you two would again please be so kind, we only have about forty-five minutes to an hour before the other guests really begin to arrive . . ."

With that final bit, the detectives' tiny mystery was solved.
"Oh hell no . . ." Nougat groaned.
"I thought five-thirty felt a little early," Cream stated.
"Oh please?" 'Mel said, raising her clasped hands under her chin and continuing to bounce. "I got caught cooking all afternoon and didn't have time to pretty up the place . . . and really, what would you guys have been doing during this time if I hadn't called you earlier?" Cream and Nougat looked at each other for a moment - then they shrugged.
"I wasn't gonna do anything," Nougat said plainly, "you?"
"I'unno, watch stupid internet videos to kill time?" Cream added. 'Mel stopped bouncing, but still stood up tall.
"Alright then, I bet you two'll be able to get through all of 'em in half an hour, easy!"


Nougat spent the next good while assembling a small, pre-lit artificial Christmas tree while Cream methodically strung garland and LED lights across fireplace mantles and cabinets. And, despite essentially drafting her two friends to work for her, 'Mel still could not believe how quickly or effectively the two of them could decorate her home in festive decor. She, meanwhile, was frantically flipping through the brand new cookbook on her counter trying to find all the tips she could about keeping her turkey from coming out right; her timer was about to count down and she still wasn't sure if it was completely cooked or not. Of course, both detectives already noticed that hidden concern, but chose not to say anything about their friend's efforts to prepare her meal.

The phone rang, causing 'Mel to curse uncharacteristically loud and forcing Cream and Nougat to stifle their snickers. 'Mel rushed across the kitchen, pressed a button on the phone and shoved it between her ear and shoulder.
"Hello?" she said into the receiver as she made her way back to her stove and cookbook. "Oh, Sellie! Hey, what's going on?"

Feeling that the moment's entertainment was done, Cream and Nougat went back to decorating the living room and dining area; the feeling was all too brief.
"What?!" 'Mel let out, startling the other two who quickly perked back up. 'Mel made hand gestures for one of them to come into the kitchen to watch the food as she left the kitchen and rounded a corner to somewhere quieter. Nougat motioned for Cream to head to the kitchen as he slowly crept his way closer to where 'Mel was speaking. Cream agreed, but continued to keep an ear out for whatever was clearly wrong on the phone. As Nougat slid past a hall closet, he started to hear more of 'Mel's side of the conversation . . .

". . . when did you lose track of her?" "Have you called any of her friends yet?" "No, I understand . . . do you need anyth-- . . . Sellie, hold on . . ."

Sensing that 'Mel was coming back, Nougat dove over the top of the couch and back into the middle of the living room.
"Hey guys," 'Mel said, lines of clear grief visible across her face, "I need your help right now . . ."

Cream quickly lowered the heat on all the stove elements and came over to where 'Mel and Nougat were already standing.
"My friend Selleri can't find her daughter," she said, "they were supposed to come over, but-"
" . . . you need us to make some calls, so to speak?" Cream asked. The corners of 'Mel's mouth tightened.
"I know you guys have had to wait so long to finally get this vacation time, and-"
". . . now we're gonna go help one more person before it's really vacation time," Nougat interrupted. 'Mel pouted subtly but not seriously.
"Can you guys please stop cutting . . . oh forget it . . ." Nougat gave her a reassuring bump in the shoulder.
"What's Selleri's address?"


'Mel led the two men back to her door after they retrieved their coats from the other room.
"Do you want me to come with you guys?" she asked.
"Sorry," Cream answered with another reassuring smile, "unofficial police business, you gotta stay here."
"Besides," Nougat added, "you gotta stay here in case those guests arrive, right?" Again, 'Mel could only smile in response.
"Sellie sounded happy to hear that you two are coming," she said as the men were halfway through the door, stopping and turning them around. "You two come with high recommendation, y'know?"

"We'll try not to sully the worth of your word," Cream said. Nougat nodded in agreement.
"Keep some slices of that bird waitin' for us," he finished as they walked down the hallway to the elevators, "we'll be back as soon as we can . . ."

"Thanks . . ." 'Mel added as the door closed, ". . yet again . . . . ."


[And now I officially don't know what happens next. Fair enough for all of us, eh?]
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Wednesday, December 6, 2006

   A quick explanation for the Cream Filling & Nougat noobies out there . . .
Every time I start one of these I always have to fill everyone new in on what the suck is going on. So here we go . . . watch this, it's more interesting than just typing it all out all over again.





That said . . . I hope you all - both old hands and new faces alike - enjoy "Cream Filling & Nougat: Half-Julkalender". I promise, it'll at least be good for a couple grins here or there.
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Tuesday, December 5, 2006

   Prologue:
[myOtaku presents, a SomeGuy story . . .]


'Tis some weeks 'fore Christmas,
and bored have I been,
I think that a party
would make for the win.

I have not had many guests
visit my pad,
and since I'm the boss
such bad conduct is... well, bad!

On second thought, maybe
this might be too much,
I'd hate for my neighbours
to be pissed as such.

Alright, just a small
gathering of close friends,
just a few from the office
(or none, it depends).


But still, it's a fact
that there's two seats reserved
for my guardian angels,
my life they've preserved.

It would feel like an unreal
and false, cloudy fugue,
if I should spend Christmas
without Whip' and Noug'.

Those lovable morons,
I shant go without,
Besides, if I snubbed them,
I know that they'd pout.

Those detectives two,
more alike than not,
their presence alone
shall enliven the lot!


For over a year we've had
brief time to meet,
I'm bogged at the office,
them, on the street.

But my, all the good
that they've done for this city,
if they weren't around
we'd all be in such pity.

They saved me one time
from my poor, messed up sis',
and since I've been safe
with quite little amiss.

Another time they saved
my company's face,
and caught those two jewel thieves
(and wrecked up my place!)

Last year a promotion
was gained and revoked,
but drugs on the street
were punched, tripped, pinned and choked.

They've worked that last case
off and on all this year,
and damn, all those dealers
ate chewy, sweet fear!


But even the police
need breaks now and then,
so dinner at my place
shall be where and when.

In fact, I just got off
the phone with young Whip',
they're rushing fast and
should arrive in a zip.

I know that it's winter
and roads are all frozen
so Noug' better drive safe and
arrive when I'd chosen!


The bird's in the oven,
the spuds in the pot,
hot damn! This year
I freakin' cooked quite a lot!

It's been quite a while,
I hope it won't suck,
so hopefully this year
can end with some luck.

Well, I'm feeling good
about tonight's event,
nothing could ruin
the planning I've spent.

This should be great
and memorable fun,
so let's get this started...
oh! Doorbell! Gotta run!


-'Mel


Cream Filling & Nougat: Half-Julkalender


[myO, this is my Christmas gift to you . . . well, the first one anyway . . . and for the rest of you who don't know what the suck is going on, I'll fill you in next time . . .]
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Monday, December 4, 2006

   Addendum . . .
What if I said the three letters were:

C. F. & N.

?
Comments (8) | Permalink