Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or the apartment, or Toronto. Yet. Or, well, not ever, but still.

"Henry? Did you see –"

"Yes, Vicki. I saw it too." Something like a small dog, perhaps a juvenile husky or similar erect-eared animal, had just fleeted past the both of them and hid behind the bookshelf.

"Wow. That was some Chinese food."

"Are you suggesting that the dog came out of the Chinese food?" Henry was on the defensive; how had he not smelled this intruder before? And how, praytell, did it have anything to do with the painting?

"It was a joke about the smell, Mr. Scruge. Since when do you take everything so seriously?"

"Since some foul jackal headed beast disrupted our conversation." He retorted bitterly.

"Whoa there! Jackal headed beast? What, is it Anubis now?"

"It was a metaphor. Obviously not a very good one." The two of them had been staring at the bookshelf, and not much else, for the entirety of the conversation, making no eye contact. Both had expected the animal to come out by now.

"What do we do?" Vicki's eyebrow was raised immediately.

"We get it out of my bookshelf." Henry started for it, placing his hands on either side as if to lift it. "Now, when I pick the end of the shelf up, you scare it towards the kitchen. NOT my bedroom. Clear?" Vicki couldn't help but giggle at his perfectly calm, serious expression.

"Aye aye, Cap'n Exterminator." She tried to get control of herself, and managed it with some difficulty.

"Vicki, there is nothing amusing about this situation. This animal clearly isn't a natural being, otherwise I would have smelled it. This is serious." His brow furrowed in frustration.

"Right, sorry, but the thing was the size of a basketball." She sighed and shook her head. He was right: this couldn't be a normal dog. He would have smelled that. But that didn't mean it was evil, after all, he had sensed actual dark magic in the past. Vicki moved into position near the other end of the bookshelf, half-crouched and hands at the ready like a goalie in a hockey game.

"Ready?" Henry asked

"Ready." She replied.

"On the count of three. One…" He braced his hands on the bookshelf.

"Two…" The two both tensed in preparation.

"Three!" With almost no effort, he lifted his end of the shelf up at a forty-five degree angle.

Hurriedly, but with surprising accuracy and speed for a half-blind human, Vicki hurriedly darted towards the bookshelf and…

Scared all of the dust bunnies into the kitchen!

"Vicki! Vicki, where'd it go? Vicki!" Henry said. From the angle at which he was holding the shelf, he had to keep his head up at a mildly awkward angle, or bump his chin.

"It's…it's not here. Henry, the only thing down here is a few dust bunnies." Vicki sounded extremely perplexed.

"What? No!" He protested urgently.

"Sorry, I don't know what to tell you." She replied, confused and a little angry. Stupid dogs.

"I spent three hours dusting yesterday! You're telling me that's where it all went?!" He sounded terribly upset.

"Henry, you aren't…wait, you spent three hours dusting?"

"Yes!" He answered, exasperated and clearly upset and also still holding the shelf.

"Wait, then where did it go?"

"I didn't hear any sudden movements." He replied as he put the bookshelf down and began to pick up the small grey balls of fluff, collecting them in his hand.

"Was it an illusion?" She asked, more intent on finding whatever-it-was that had disappeared behind the shelf than cleanliness.

"I doubt it. I can tell the difference between an illusion and a solid object." He told her calmly. There really weren't that many dust bunnies, anyway. So that was okay.

"A projection, then?" She offered.

"In our case, same difference." He countered.

"You got any better ideas?"

"Whatever it was wasn't…what it appeared to be."

"You mean a tiny dog."

"Yes, I mean it wasn't really a tiny dog."

"Well, could you smell it once you knew it was there?" Henry opened his mouth as if to answer, but then seemed to consider it.

"I…no, come to think of it. I couldn't smell anything new, or sense it or…or anything, for that matter. That's bizarre." He frowned.

"That's supernatural, you mean. Maybe you weren't too hasty when you decided to call Sagara. I'll get Coreen on this." For the umpteenth time, she took out her cell phone. Before dialing, she had a thought.

"Maybe we ought to get the painting back first." Henry's mood brightened substantially when reminded of the current torture the little creature had bestowed upon his favorite detective.

"Can I come?" Vicki stared at him blankly for a second, considering.

"Only if you play nice."

"Always." She snorted.

XXX

In order to keep Mike on his good side, they'd agreed to meet in a public parking lot. Admittedly it was two in the morning meaning that few people were out regardless, but it had made Vicki feel a little better. Henry and Vicki got there first, but Mike wasn't far behind.

"He'd better have a damn good excuse for doing what he did!" Vicki heard the shouts before she saw the man.

"Where's my painting, detective?" Henry held his arms out expectantly. Mike just glared at him angrily.

"You did take it down, didn't you, Mike?" Vicki asked, brows knit together.

"Well, I would have if your royal Pain In The Ass hadn't put one of the nails in the crack that was already in my ceiling." Mike's face was beet red, and understandably so.

"You mean…"

"I can either leave it in or destroy my entire ceiling."

"So…"

"I'm still deciding." Vicki couldn't help but smile.

"Right, well –" She placed a hand on his chest when he started for the vampire, murder in his eyes.

"First, Henry didn't put it there."

"Really. So, your other vampire cartoonist friend drew the picture?"

"She never said I didn't draw the picture, detective." Henry cut in, smirking.

"Henry, don't." Vicki warned, eyebrows raised dangerously.

"Yeah, Henry, don't." Mike repeated, in a tone not unlike the sibling with whom Mom has sided. Her attention turned to him, with the same accusing raised eyebrows.

"Mike, we don't know how his picture ended up in your house. But Henry didn't put it there."

"Oh, really. And you're just going to take his word for it."

"Believe me, Celucci, if it were my doing I would be gloating, not lying about it." Mike looked like he was going to explode for just a second. He closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath, calming himself slightly. He could be the bigger man.

"Fine. What did take his precious picture, then?" Vicki pressed her lips together and stared at him for a second, not saying anything.

"Well…" Mike groaned.

"What tells me I'm not going to like this answer?" He already looked defeated.

"We believe it may be something supernatural, Coreen is looking into it." Henry finished for her.

"Believe? You mean, there's a chance that it's not?" He looked hopeful for a second. Henry and Vicki exchanged glances.

"…no." Henry said.

"No, it's definitely something supernatural." Vicki added. You know, just to make sure the message sunk in properly. Mike grunted.

"Why so sure?"

"Well, for one thing, I didn't smell anything out of place, meaning it couldn't have been normal theft. And for another, there was this…incident." Henry finished delicately.

"What kind of 'incident'?"

"This thing that looked like a little dog disappeared behind his bookshelf, only Henry says he could tell it wasn't really a dog." Vicki explained. Mike just stared in mildly stunned silence for a few seconds.

"Great. Sure. Why not. Little dogs are making my life hell now."

A/N: Sorry for the lack of anything actually happening in this chapter. It's just that today I'm going through withdrawal. Again. Aw, poo.

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