Diclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of Pet Shop of Horrors. I only have rights to Erika Hunter

A/N: The only reference these stories will make to the actual events in the anime/manga is in this first chapter where D comments about being dragged out to deal with killer rabbits (manga volume one chapter three: Daughter.) Other than that these are stand alone chapter linked together only by the characters in them, just like the manga. The story sort of revolves around my OC Erika Hunter, who is hired as D's assistant. Feel free to review but don't bother to flame my OC. I like her, I don't see why you shouldn't.

Oh, and I don't know why everyone seems to accept Q-chan without comment. I mean, he's a rabbit with wings. Surely that should get some sort of notice. It's so strange…

Onwards to the story…

Chapter One

HELP WANTED

"Hello?"

The tall, slightly sulky looking blonde walked slowly through the shop. "Hey, is anyone there?" She frowned and placed one hand on her hip, obviously annoyed. In her other hand, she held a plain white placard bearing the words "HELP WANTED" in simple block capitals. "With all due respect," she called, "I don't actually have time for this. I'm supposed to be at school." Although her mother and stepfather wouldn't really care at her missing school, a couple of her teachers would, and if she didn't turn up for their classes – again – questions would be asked. And she did not have the patience to have other people meddling in her affairs. She never had.

There was no reply to her irritated cry. "Oh, come ON!" she muttered grouchily, seating herself on one of the low couches in the front room. There were some delicious looking biscuits in a plate on the coffee table, but she didn't take one. That would be rude… Talking to the comparatively empty – of humans, anyway – shop, she complained, "When there's a sign on the front door saying that you're open, and when that door is also unlocked, you are supposed to be within, gleefully awaiting the arrival of your customers."

She tapped her fingers on the arm of her couch for a few minutes, then her inner restlessness won over and she stood up again and began to pace, edgy as some great caged cat. She was a lot like a big cat, actually, probably a leopardess, short tempered, elegant and beautiful. Her loose blonde hair was long, cut with chin length bangs which today were parted at the side and completely covering her right eye, partially obscuring her left. Her left eye, the only one visible, was such a dark grey as to appear black in most lights. Her skin was fair, sort of pale. She wore ripped-at-the-knees blue jeans, worn white and brown sneakers and a light grey hooded sweatshirt with a large logo on the front. She was frowning, golden brows drawn down over a small nose. A scowl was a standard expression for her, one that she used frequently.

There was a soft scrape of a shoe on the doorstep and she heard the front door opening quietly. She whirled around, fixing the man who'd just walked in the door with a single irritated dark grey eye. "Are you –" both of them said at the same time and then stopped. The girl sighed. "You first," she said, forcing a smile. She looked him over, sizing him up as she tried to work out whether he was the Count or not.

She doubted it.

He looked like a businessman, maybe an accountant or something, with greying hair and a lined, worried sort of face. He wore a snappy charcoal grey suit, which the girl approved on, and twisted his hands nervously around the handle of his briefcase, which the girl did not approve of. Showing nervous emotion when you were a businessman or an accountant or whatever could not be good for business. Plus, he was sweating, she could smell it from her position of a few metres away, which was probably doing horribly things to that gorgeous suit. She noticed as he opened his mouth to speak that his teeth were crooked.

"Are you the Count?" the man asked uncertainly.

The girl processed that question very quickly, came to several conclusions from it, and replied before she even really knew what she was doing.

"No, sir," she said at her most eloquent (which was pretty damn eloquent). "I must apologize. I am not the Count, merely his assistant, Erika Hunter. The Count, regrettably, had to step out on some unavoidable business, but I would be delighted to help you in any way I can." She bowed slightly, dropping the HELP WANTED card as she did so and kicking it under a chair. The man stared at her with a faintly sceptical look, and Erika quickly realised that he was taking note of her age and her distinctly unprofessional attire. She smiled, hiding her inborn attitude problem behind glassy customer services, remembering the motto learned form her brief time of working in a supermarket – "The customer is always right."

"Once again, I apologise, this time for my attire… I had intended to spend the morning cleaning out the animal's cages and pens. A rule I have learnt in working for Count D – 'One should never wear one's best clothes to do something potentially dirty'. What was it that you came to the shop to buy, sir?" She deliberately didn't bring up the subject of her age re: the fact that at seventeen she should technically be at school, hoping that he'd just let it drop.

The man seemed to relax slightly. To Erika's relief, he didn't even mention the age thing. "My daughter's birthday is next Saturday," he explained. "She's been dropping hints about a kitten for the last six months. Do you have anything like that on sale here?" His expression suggested that if they didn't then there was something seriously wrong with them.

"I'm sure we do," Erika replied with her best adorable smile, which needed practise anyway, pulling off her grey sweatshirt and folding it neatly, placing it on one of the couches. Her t-shirt underneath was plain, black, and seemed to meet the sweaty accountant's approval, such as it was. "If you would follow me, sir."

Without much difficulty, Erika located a pen full of mewling kittens. They looked normal enough. There was no price on the cage, and the cats didn't look purebred, so Erika ended up guessing the price. She told him the dreamt-up cost in a confident voice and sold him the most adorable little ginger tabby cat with huge blue eyes. He left the shop, thanking her profusely and promising to tell all his friends about the wonderful service offered at Count D's Pet Shop in Chinatown.

And the sweaty accountant was just the beginning – after him the morning turned incredibly busy. She sold pets to at least ten people, making a note of what she sold and at what price every time. If possible she asked the name of the buyer as well. She'd give the list of sales to D when he eventually turned up… right after she let him know how stupid he had been to leave the door unlocked and the OPEN sign still up when she was very obviously out. He was lucky Erika, who was a basically honourable person, had come in before anyone less honourable had had time to rob him.

It was evening when D returned with a tall, blonde, obviously furious man, hours after Erika had used the shop phone to ring her mother and inform her that she would be late home for dinner, if she turned up in time to eat at all. The first thing the two of them saw was a tall, pretty and incredibly unfamiliar teenage girl serving one of the last of D's customers. She caught sight of the two of them over the customer's shoulder and fixed D with an irritated look. After finishing selling the customer, a middle aged woman with frizzy orange hair, she made her last note on her sale list and walked towards the two men with a wad of cash, a vastly annoyed expression on her face, and several furious remarks queuing on the tip of her tongue.

Before she had time to say anything though, Q-chan, the winged rabbit, jumped from D's shoulder and flew across to perch on top of her head. She smiled, all her irritation dissolving immediately. "Hello, little one," she said, reaching up a hand to the little creature. "What do you want?"

"Kyuu!" Q-chan squeaked happily, hopping onto her hand. She lifted him down and cradled him in her arms, stroking his fur. He squeaked again and clambered up onto her shoulder, where he perched.

Erika fixed her attention back on D. "Count D," she said in a very level voice, "and… whoever you are." Her gave flickered off the unknown blonde European. "I'm sure you know how to lock a door, don't you?"

"Why, yes…" D said calmly, looking confused. "Why do you… Oh, dear." His face fell as he realised what must have happened.

"Yeah, oh dear," Erika muttered. Louder, she said, "I came here in response to the HELP WANTED sign you had in the window. I'd love you to hire me for an after school job. But, really? You left the entire place unlocked and the OPEN sign still up. And there've been, like, ten or more customers in today. What if one of them had just walked in and stolen something?"

"Oh, dear," said D again. "Officer Orcot here dragged me off on a case regarding some killer rabbits… He pulled me out of the place far too fast for me to be able to even think about locking up. Thank heavens you arrived."

The blonde guy, identified as Officer Orcot, was far less trusting. "What were you doing serving customers in a shop that wasn't yours?" he demanded. "That's probably illegal."

Erika pinned him with a killer glare, feeling irritation rise. "The money will, of course, be Count D's in the entirety. I was merely responsible for the transferred ownership of a few pets. I hardly see how that is a criminal offence."

Orcot stared at her. "How old are you?" he asked abruptly, frowning.

Erika lifted an eyebrow, a move mirrored by the Count. "How, rude…" D said softly, smiling at Erika. "I apologise for him. I know that he won't."

"It's fine, Count D," Erika said, her eyes narrowing dangerously, even as a light smile passed across her lips. To Orcot, she said, "Don't you know that you should never ask a lady how old she is? But as you're probably a lot older than me, and obviously suffering from some strange mental malady which apparently robs the victim of whatever manners they had to begin with – in your case, I suspect, not very many – I won't take offence. I am nearly eighteen years of age. Why?"

"You definitely don't talk like a seventeen year old," he said flatly. "And didn't you imply that you'd been here all day? Shouldn't you have been in school?"

"I would have been, had not my conscience dictated that I remain here, to guard the shop and the animals within from whatever creeps and/or weirdoes may wander off the street, and, taking advantage of the shop's unattended state, simply take whatever caught their fancy," Erika explained smoothly, hardly even noticing what she was saying, as she fought down the hunger that had been gnawing at her for the past few hours. She hadn't eaten anything since the apple she'd grabbed for breakfast – she was starving!

D applauded her languidly. "Very nicely said," he congratulated her. Erika bowed automatically. "Thank you for minding the shop for me," he continued. "And, of course, I'll hire you for that job. You appear to be just the kind of person I've been looking for. But I'm afraid I still don't know your name…?"

Erika blushed. "I'm sorry," she said apologetically. "I don't actually talk to people I've never met before too often, so I'm used to everybody knowing who I am. My name is Erika Hunter. I'm very pleased to meet you."

"The feeling is entirely mutual," said D, with an elegance of phrase to match hers. He took her hand in a natural move and absentmindedly kissed it. Erika blushed a deep red and smiled. "I'm D, although I have to tell you that I'm not actually the Count. My grandfather is the one to hold that title. He's abroad at the moment, I'm afraid. Perhaps you'll be able to meet him some day.

"This," he continued, waving at Orcot with a graceful hand, "is Detective Leon Orcot. Say hello to the nice lady, Leon…"

"Pleasure," said Orcot edgily, shaking Erika's hand. The two blondes had evidently decided not to like each other. "Well, I'd probably better head home," Erika said, giving D an apologetic look. "I wrote a list of everything I sold, and at which price…" She handed him the list and regretfully removed Q-chan from her shoulder. "I had no idea what the pets were actually priced at so I had to just guess. Oh, and the name and number of the people I could wrestle such details from is included in the list as well…" She frowned. "I think that's about it. Should I turn up after school tomorrow as well?"

"Yes, that would be wonderful," D told her, running his eyes down the list. "Oh… one more thing… Did you sell anything from out of the back rooms?"

Erika noticed that Leon Orcot grew very alert at this. She frowned and shook her head. "No, Count D," she said. "I didn't even go into the back rooms. I stayed in the front part of the shop all day. See you tomorrow. Goodbye, Detective Orcot…" Orcot said something along the lines of a farewell and Erika picked up her grey sweatshirt and headed for the door.

She was almost outside when D spoke again. "Oh, Erika, what a moment would you?" Erika paused, looking back with a quietly confused expression. "What is it, D?"

He handed her a roll of green bills. "Your wage for today," he said, and smiled. Erika felt her heart lurch – oh, great, now she was fostering a crush on her new boss… "Thank you so much for looking after the shop for me. I truly appreciate it."

Erika grinned. "It was no trouble – better by far than having to deal with school. Thank you for this," she added, waving the roll of cash. "I'll catch a taxi once I get out of Chinatown. See you tomorrow, D."

She walked off down the street, with an entirely uncharacteristic spring in her step, delighted that she'd gotten a job with a good boss and was on her way towards earning enough money to move out of her mother's house and into an apartment of her own. She really had to get out of there…

Back in the shop, Orcot was yelling at D. "It's one thing to deal with those insane, dangerous animals of your yourself!" he shouted. "But it's another thing entirely to get a teenage girl wrapped up in your crazy schemes!! How much trouble d'you think she'll get in when I shut you down?!"

"Officer, calm down," D said faintly, looking at him with a slightly worried expression. "Erika won't get into any trouble, I promise. Now, could I interest you in a mooncake…?"