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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