As I watched her walk down the street, I couldn't help but notice the way her hips moved as she walked, or the way her bangs fell in her face, despite the hair clips in her hair. I felt a smirk appear on my lips as she got closer. I did the right choice, calling her here instead of calling my old assistant, who goes by the name Mr. Coffee, for some odd reason. She pushed her dark shades up closer to her eyes, seeing as they were sliding down the bridge of her nose. Once she was a foot away from where I stood, she sighed and put a hand on her hips.
"What do you want now, Racer?", she asked coldly, her blonde hair, turned silver by the moonlight, tickling her nose.
"Boss dropped a new case on me. He said I needed to find a suitable partner, and you were the first person who crossed my mind.", I replied, just as coldly. I tossed her a manila folder, with the words "TOP SECRET" printed on the front. After a few seconds, she took out the contents of the folder and carefully looked them over. Her eyebrow raised while she was reading, and once she was done she looked back at me suspiciously.
"Are you sure you want ME as a partner, Racer?", she asked. I nodded.
"You're the only one good enough, in my standards.", I said. Okay, maybe I DID have a tiny crush on her since the 4th grade, but that's not why I picked her.
"Why not your old assistant?"
"I wanted to switch things up a bit. Got a problem, Princess?", I asked, using her detective name. Hers was "Princess", and mine was "Red Racer". Of course, I knew her real name, and she knew mine, but we wanted to keep our identities secret, especially with our history as rebellious teenagers endangering our careers. She scoffed at me.
"Alright, I'm in. But I do have ONE question.", she said, and I gestured for her to continue.
"Why is this guy's name "Satan"?", she wondered, referring to the criminal the case was based around.
"I don't know. We're guessing he's a Satanist or something along those lines.", I answered, repeating what my company had assumed.
"Well, don't just stand there, let's go. We have a case to solve, and it'd be better if we started now.", she demanded, grabbing my arm and dragging me back to her apartment. When we got inside, she dumped the contents of the manila envelope onto the kitchen table and sat down. I followed her lead, grabbing a chair and planting my ass in it, and then began studying what the boss had given me to work with.
"This paper here shows a list of his acquaintances, former and current. Maybe we should start there.", she suggested.
"Alright, that seems like a good idea. Who's first on the list?"
"Hm… Some guy named Kyle Broflovski."
~At Kyle's house~
Once we drove to the address listed next to Kyle's name, we both walked up the steps and knocked on the door. I adjusted the jacket of my black suit nervously. Princess and I both wore black, formal-looking suits, and black sunglasses covered our eyes. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a lock unlocking, and the door swung open. A young man with a bouncy red afro stood in the doorframe, a suspicious look in his eyes. He looked tired, like he had just woken up, and his t-shirt hung off of one shoulder.
"May I help you?", he asked.
"Are you Mr. Kyle Broflovski?", I asked. He nodded.
"What do you want with me? And how did you know my name?", Kyle asked.
"That is classified information. Now, we were wondering if you knew this man?", Princess asked, holding up a picture of the criminal we were after. Kyle's eyes widened a little bit, and he nodded furiously.
"Yeah, actually, I do. He's my ex-boyfriend.", the red-headed man answered.
"Good. Would you be willing to tell us some information on him?", Princess asked. Once again, Kyle nodded, and moved aside to let us inside.
"Do you all want some coffee?", Kyle asked as we sat at the kitchen table.
"No thanks.", I replied. I'm sick of coffee, actually, since my old partner drinks it 24/7. Princess declined as well, and Kyle nodded before making himself a cup. Once he was finished, he took a seat next to Princess, and I could tell she was nervous.
"Okay, so; first of all, what's his name?", she asked, bringing out a piece of paper and a pencil.
"Arthur Washington.", Kyle replied, flinching a little when he said the name.
"What, exactly, happened to you two?", I asked.
"I-It's really painful to talk about, actually.", the bushy-haired man said.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't-"
"No, no, it's okay. I'll tell you.", Kyle said. The traces of a smirk appeared on his lips as he began to spill everything he knew.