Wrote this a long time ago, and decided to publish it.

Hope you guys like it! Review if you want me to continue. :D

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IT WAS FEBUARY IN TORONTO and the sky was a bland gray.

I sneezed-a couple of lose bougers flew out-and rubbed my nose with my scarf.

"Ewyuuew, that's really gross."

Patsy pointed out. I shrugged and walked up to the next doorstep. I pulled on my jacket tighter.

"Ya'know we really shouldn't be treated this way. Derek should be able to get off his skinny ass and haul off these fucking psychos himself. I'm sick of doing all the dirty work around here." Patsy huffed and crossed her arms.

I snorted and knocked on the door anyways.

"If Derek came out here and did ANTHING by himself, we'd be doing more than just investigating." She knocked on the door again and Patsy scoffed.

"Fuck him," She flipped her hair back, making the curls bounce.

The door opened and I wished she never knocked on it. Ever.

When the door opened, behind it was the most horrid looking thing she's ever seen since the re-make of Bewitched.

The woman was about two to three hundred pounds, and had the most horrid red frizzy hair.

Her robe had to be the size of Mount Vesuvius.

Seven cats at her feet circled around her and she reeked of kitty litter. This was not something to admire.

With a baby in one hand and a cigarette in the other she answered, "What?"

Patsy nudged me in the stomach with her elbow.

"Uh, ahem, well uh, you see were looking for a, "I fumbled through my pockets for the receipt I just jotted the FTA's name on.

"Were looking for a Wilmer Clint Dickenson." Pasty giggled and I glared at her.

"Dick?" The woman flicked her cigarette, letting the ashes fall to the stained cement step. "What about 'em?"

Patsy stared at the women's hand. "We're looking for him, he skipped court yesterday, and we need him there. For ya'know, law shit."

I'm Casey McDonald. I work for a bonds enforcement agent. When a guy like Dick fails to appear at his schedule court date, it's up to me and Patsy to catch the scumbag.

Dead or alive. Derek never seemed to care.

"Law shit huh?" The woman puffed her cancer-stick and blew out the smoke.

"Haven't seen him since Monday. Sorry girls." She walked back in and slammed the door. I looked at Patsy.

"That went pretty well." She laughed.

* * *

We parked the firebird and headed down towards the crappy building we worked at. Patsy peeked into the car mirror before getting out.

Patsy was a big girl, with an attitude the same size, if not bigger. She weighed around 200 pounds. She was a former hoe.

I met her when I was on my first bond job. Some whacked out wrestler wanted to skin me alive and deciced to use her for bait to lure me.

It didnt work of course. Im still covered in skin, thank you very much.

So I saved her, and she officially become my file clerk/partner in crime.

She always had a gun stuffed somewhere, and could never be caught dead without her spandax suites. She said it flattered her figure.

The bulging buttons disagreed.

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TBC