AN: Hey look, a story about an extremely obscure character! I love Buddy Faith for no real reason, and of course this little idea attacked me so I had to write this. Anyways please excuse the lame summary.

The basketball pounded against the floor in the hall of the prosecutor's office. Jacques Portsman dribbled to the basketball hoop set up and dunked the ball. It was rather over-the-top in the prospective of the one spectator there. Buddy was never one for superfluous things, and it wasn't as if he hadn't seen the man do the same thing twenty times before.

But nobody ever asked for his opinion.

"Hey Jim," Portsman said as he passed his subordinate the ball. "Set me up so that I can go in for the alley-oop."

Buddy sighed and held the ball over his head. Jacques ran towards the hoop with one hand up.

"Portsman!" A balding man with glasses screeched. The pink clad prosecutor slid to a halt. "Why are your case files in my office?!"

"Wait here Jim; this'll only take a sec." Jacques went over to the man and started to discuss something with him.

Wait here? What else would I do? The detective thought to himself as he gripped the ball. He looked over at the basketball hoop. All I ever do is take orders. 'Jim, my coffee's down in the lobby, could you go get it?', 'Yeah, Jim I need you to get some evidence for me.', 'Hey, pass the ball here.'

Sometimes Buddy wondered why he did all that he did for the man. Yes, Portsman was his superior, but did he always need to trail after him like a faithful dog who took notes and collected evidence?

No, but he just couldn't say that to his boss's face.

His workday was hard and he never got a chance to relax. He always watched Portsman show off his skill, yet did nothing more than assist him in practicing. That was not entertaining to him.

Maybe one of these times he would take the shot. Jacques would look at him in amazement and even suggest they play some one-on-one. He would be competent enough to be on the same level as him.

Maybe today would be that day. Buddy looked at the ball and moved his hands into the correct shooting form and was ready to let it fly.

1, 2, 3…

"Sorry about that Jim." Portsman said somewhat sheepishly, "I'm ready now." He held out his hands, showing that he wanted the detective pass him the ball. Buddy looked down at the balland then at Portsman.

And he passed the ball.