Something stopped him in his tracks suddenly the moment he began to reach out and open the driverâ€™s side door of his car. It felt like something or someone was restraining him, wrapping him up in rope or something. Deziel wondered if this was one of the demi-godâ€™s powers or something, turning to face her with a sharp glare that showed he was in a hurry. He had just got done telling her that he didnâ€™t have time for this sort of thing and now she was stopping him and asking for help? What did he look like some fucking tour guide, ready to just jump up and show her the wonders of Earth and the magnificent thing humans call â€˜societyâ€™? She should just go back home and not give a shit about this world or else find someone else who was willing to take her on a tour.<br/><br/>Her studying gaze made him a bit uncomfortable, thankfully it wasnâ€™t shown unless she were to just look deep in those sharp, hazel eyes of his. Having someone seemingly analyze him was not exactly his idea of a good morning especially when he was late for work. In fact he doubted there was anything that would make this morning better for him.<br/><br/>â€œIf you insist on coming with me then fine, get in the car. But hurry up, Iâ€™m late for work.â€ He snorted idly as he waved a hand, gesturing for her to get in. It was already going to take him about twenty minutes to get to work and he was already almost a half hour late. The less exciting shortcut through the cityâ€™s back roads would be taken today. Knowing the roads like the back of his hand, he drove through them with ease. There was a lot he had to get done today and during the entire drive he thought about it, trying to relax a bit while he did so. Being a detective, work was often tedious when nothing exciting was going on especially with cold cases. Most of the time the murders were his doing anyway so he purposely has the case run cold but there have been a few times where he felt they were on to him in one way or another.<br/><br/>For today there was mostly a lot of organization which was probably the only good part of the day with some boring paperwork and perhaps a bit of field work mixed in as well. Since the other day was pretty rough he wanted this to be a relaxing day but he didnâ€™t get his hopes up. That was the thrill of the job; he never really knew what awaited him when he walked through the door most of the time. Sometimes it was extremely stressful but it could be a bit relaxing as well. He enjoyed it nonetheless, for the most part anyway. Some days he wondered why he even became a detective if he didnâ€™t need to cover his tracks whenever he committed a murder. Paid some damn good money, too, so that was another reason that he wouldnâ€™t complain too much about it.<br/><br/>When he finally arrived at the office, he parked in the lot, then looked back to the hitchhiker he still had no clue why he picked up. He really shouldnâ€™t have bothered, but at least she wasnâ€™t much of a problem. â€œHey,â€ he called out, just to get her attention, â€œItâ€™s time for you to get out. I need to get to work so I donâ€™t get fired for being late.â€ It was pretty obvious that he was extremely worried about that, in the way he spoke about it. He didnâ€™t even wait for when he got out of his car and began to head towards the office, smoking another cigarette.<br/><br/>Why did he have a feeling that today was going to be an interesting day?