A figure appeared at the door of his lab. Ollie looked up, feeling a shiver run down his neck. He froze as said figure lifted a gun, aiming it directly at his head. He didn't have time to react before the bullet found it's mark.
Ollie managed to drag his eyes open, sighing with relief as he realised he was still alive. He glanced up to confirm that the door was still locked. The light was still red, and he relaxed a little, rolling over in his sleeping bag. The floor of the lab had replaced his bed for the past few weeks. Not that he cared. At least he knew that nobody could get in unless he wanted them to.
His lab was at the far end of the building and wasn't used in the day shift, due to the fact that they didn't particularly need it and that he usually had several cases worth of evidence in it, meaning that it was usually better that it was only used by him. He usually set an alarm for half an hour before everyone else came in so he was dressed and presentable before everyone came in. He went home and showered every morning, picked up some fresh clothes and ate, before going back into the lab to sleep. He slept in a t-shirt and old tracksuit bottoms.
The station seemed oddly busy, considering his alarm hadn't gone off yet. He stretched an arm out to wake his phone, then swore under his breath as it didn't come on. He had missed his alarm and probably overslept. He froze as he heard a tapping on the glass door that served as the entrance to his lab. He shoved himself into a sitting position to see Jonathon standing at the door.
"Oh crap." Jonathon had clearly seen him, so there wasn't much point in pretending any more. He climbed to his feet, grabbing his pass card from the table where he'd left it before going to sleep. He swiped it, releasing the door, and smiled a little sheepishly at Jonathon as the door slid open. "Hi."
Victor pulled on his white t-shirt, before grabbing his jacket and pulling it on. He wasn't required to wear it, but he was planning on doing more searching at the crime scenes today, meaning it would make his job a lot easier. Sure, he'd have to take it off to put on the clean suit to prevent contaminating the evidence, but people seemed to be less suspicious if he was wearing the jacket, ID or not. They were also a lot more willing to let him in, because it marked him out as a forensic investigator as opposed to a cop.
He fixed his hair, before grabbing his kit and ID. His ID went into the pocket of his plain black jeans, and he grabbed his keys shoving them into the pocket of his jacket. His landlady was heading into her apartment as he reached the bottom floor. "Evening, Mrs. Fuentes!" He said. The old Mexican woman smiled at him. "Ah, Victor. Rushing out again, I see?" She teased him. He laughed. "It's a beautiful day to solve crimes!" He said, before closing the door behind him.
His apartment was close enough to the station so that he could walk to work. Some evenings, if he was running a little late, he'd cycle, but his kit was a little difficult to balance at times. It was starting to get cold, and the light was rapidly fading. He was fully planning on just reporting in, seeing if anyone had anything to tell him, then convincing someone to either help him set up a reconstruction or to come out with him and comb the most recent crime scene. Something was already on his mind, something he wanted to try out.
Everyone else was starting to drift in and he scanned his ID as he reached the door. "Hey Victor. If you're looking for Alexandra, she's talking stuff over with Scout." Someone called. He swore under his breath. He didn't know if Roxie would be in yet, so he decided to head to the demo room.