A/N: This was my NANOWRIMO submission. It's silly and fluffy - seriously. Rated M for maybe down the road. It will update, but CRB is still the primary focus. I'm just putting out here so I'll finish it.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters. I just borrow them and send them on adventures. No harm or foul intended.
Here Kitty, Kitty Kitty
Lost your lamb? Your kitten missin'? Your puppy gone astray? At the Little Bo Peep Pet Detective Agency rounding up missing pets is our specialty. Let us help put your heart and mind at ease. Our trained investigators will look high and low, hither and yon, and in every nook and cranny for your missing flock. Excellent results. Happy reunion references available. Reasonable rates. Senior and broken-hearted children discounts. Give us a call today.
Rachel Berry stood on her tiptoes, her fingertip rubbing the textured surface of the card stock as she mulled over the business card on the pet store bulletin board, her expression hopeful. She had been perusing lost pet notices when the business card caught her attention.
It had been nearly 48 hours since her precious cat, Mr. Arnstein, had unexpectedly and uncharacteristically darted out the door of her townhouse and disappeared and she was clearly at her wits end. But hiring a pet detective? Seriously? She didn't even know what to think of such a thing. Was it completely foolish? Was it all really all just a big scam to prey on devastated owners who would give anything to see their pets again?
Rachel sighed heavily. She truly wanted nothing more than to believe that somehow, someway, her beloved Tuxedo cat could be found. She couldn't bear the thought of him out there somewhere, huddled shivering, scared and hungry.
She had already spent an entire day doing nothing but staring at photos and sobbing and it proved exactly as useless as it made her feel. At least this was something. Doing something always felt better than doing nothing and that was what she had been doing. A big fat useless, hopeless nothing.
Besides, if they came off as shady or asked for an outrageous fee up front she could always politely decline and be no worse off than she already was. Seriously, what could it hurt?
She reached up and pulled the thumbtack loose and pulled off the top business card in the slim stack, then replaced the thumbtack precisely, slipping it carefully back into the same spot. She tweaked the remaining cards so they were neatly aligned and ready for their next prospective client.
She could feel tears looming again and she blinked hard trying to force them away.
She had an audition and simply could not afford the luxury of breaking down. The best she could hope is that she could effectively channel all her anguish into the scene she'd prepared and it would give her the edge over her competition.
She was already running late this morning but she made herself a promise that she would call the first chance she got. With a heavy sigh, she slipped the card into her purse.
~~ooOoo~~
Quinn sat back against the car seat and held the binoculars up to her face. From her present location she had a nice wide unobstructed view of practically the entire front yard with only the occasional jogger or stroller brigade to obstruct her surveillance.
This charming little Craftsman bungalow with its wide lush green lawn and carefully manicured, vibrant flowerbeds had been the first scout location on her list from the moment she saw it. She knew her suspect well and this was something that more than likely would prove irresistible to him. If her suspicions were correct, all she had to do was patiently watch and wait and eventually he'd make an appearance.
Now came the part that most of her employees hated about the job – the actual staking out part of the stake-out. Where the investigator had to sit and watch quietly, sometimes for hours, just waiting on the chance they might catch a glimpse of their suspect. Sometimes they were acting on an informant tip and sometimes, like today, on just experience and gut instinct alone.
Quinn, on the other hand, loved it. She spent hours on surveillance or walking and canvassing neighborhoods. She'd do anything not to be cooped up in the office all the time. She liked the field work much more than dealing with actual clients. Truth be told, people annoyed her. She could put on her best game face and make nice when she had to, but it exhausted her. She much preferred dealing with the fugitives – they were more to her liking.
Again, Quinn raised the binoculars and carefully glassed along the property looking for any sign of movement or any tell-tale evidence to indicate that their suspect had already been and gone that day. Timing was everything and she was hoping that this early morning cool and exquisite location would lure him out into the open.
She slipped the buds of her iPod into her ears and queued up her favorite stake-out play list and settled in, her vivid hazel eyes focused and constantly moving across the perimeter. Something good was going to happen for her today. She could literally feel it – an excited, nervous energy that crackled all around her.
Today was going to be a lucky duck day.
She'd been at it for a little over two hours and was absently munching on a carrot stick when she thought she saw something move by the flowerbed under the garage window. It was just a quick rustling of brush and a shadow and even though she had been looking right at it, she still couldn't be sure it wasn't just her imagination. She held the field glasses up to her eye and watched intently, fixed on that general area.
There, right there, again. It was definitely a rustling of the shrub and the Mexican heather fanned next to it like something brushed up against it. And there, it was a quick flash of silver against the bright green, she was certain of it. She watched patiently for another five minutes, her eyes not moving away from that spot. Finally, she saw it, a nose pushed out from behind the large leaves of the variegated hosta and twitched a few times, then retreated. Another minute passed and it reappeared again, this time followed by twitching white whiskers, soft doe eyes and two long floppy ears that just nearly touched the ground.
"Hello Reginald," Quinn said with a slow smile. "Boy, I'm very happy to see you."
She watched as the big silver lop-eared rabbit hopped timidly out from the cover of the flower bed and began to graze on the thick lush bluegrass of the lawn.
Quinn pulled out her digital camera and adjusted the focus and snapped several photos of the fluffy fugitive. She pulled up the pictures to be certain they were in focus and was just putting her hand on the car door when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen. It was the office phone rolling to her number. She frowned. Hopefully that meant that everyone was out busy working open cases and not late or just generally goofing around because she wasn't there to keep them in line, but she knew better.
She debated whether to answer it. She really wanted to finish the task at hand, but she also couldn't afford to risk losing a potential client. People often got cold feet when asked to leave their calling information. But, she'd made a new rule that whoever took the call, took the client's case. If she answered, she was was going to be saddled with the client and she rarely took clients herself if she could avoid it.
She looked and saw that Reginald was still happily munch away so she reluctantly accepted the call. It was just one client after all.
"Bo Peep Pet Detectives, can we find one of your flock for you today?"
"Um, well, yes, actually." Rachel said, not expecting the greeting.
"I'm very sorry to hear that your pet has gone astray. My name is Quinn. How can I help you?"
"I'm not sure, exactly," Rachel answered. "I found this card at the pet shop by my house and I wanted, well I hoped that..."
Quinn was listening closely and trying not to take her eyes off the house.
"It's my cat," Rachel said, opting for the direct approach. "He ran away and I'm just so worried. I searched for hours but it just seems..."
"Overwhelming?" Quinn asked.
"Hopeless," Rachel admitted, reluctantly.
She could hear the anguish and the looming tears in her voice. She wasn't used to regularly dealing with distraught pet owners and it always still affected her deeply each time. Despite what her staff might think, she was extremely empathetic, she just didn't show it very often.
"I know it can be a very scary thing," Quinn told her gently. "But you'd be surprised how many times it all works out with a happy ending."
"Really?" Rachel asked hopefully.
"Really," Quinn told her. "We're very good at what we do. We have a very high rate of success."
"Well, "Rachel said, hesitantly. "I just don't know..."
"Why don't you come into the office and I'll be happy to explain how it all works," Quinn suggested.
"I suppose that would be alright," Rachel said.
"What's a good time for you?" Quinn asked. "I will tell you the sooner the better often applies in these cases."
That wasn't a gimmick or a ploy. It was frustrating when people waited several weeks and then called expecting miracles. The sooner they could start looking the better their chances of success.
"I could come by this afternoon if that would work?" she said.
Quinn checked her watch. She knew once it got into the heat of the day there was no point in continuing so she'd sit for another hour and then try again later. This was her only field work scheduled.
"That would be fine," she said."If you tell me what time works best for you, I'll make sure to be there."
"Two o'clock?" Rachel suggested.
"That's perfect, " Quinn said. "May I get your name? "
"Yes, I'm sorry," Rachel said. "Rachel, Rachel Berry."
"Very good, Miss Berry," Quinn told her. "I'll see you this afternoon. Do you need any directions?"
Rachel looked at the card and recognized the address. She knew the area and was confident she could find her way.
"No, I think I'll be able to get there without any problems, " she said truthfully. "I'll see you then."
"I look forward to meeting you," Quinn told her.
"I... really hope you can help me," Rachel said, tearfully. She stifled a small sob.
"We'll do everything we can," Quinn reassured her. " I know it's hard, but please try not to worry."
"I'll try," Rachel said pitifully, knowing it was a lie.
"Good, "Quinn said, knowing she was asking the impossible. "I look forward to speaking with you again soon."
"Good-bye," Rachel said sniffling.
Quinn saved the number in her contact information. It was easier than finding a pencil and paper. She'd copy it down later.
Right now she was hunting wabbits.
~~oOo~~