Blah blah blah rewrite blah disclaimer Club Penguin blah...

It took Jezzie a while to find her way through the PSA's labyrinth of a headquarters. There were briefing rooms, training rooms, a huge school called the Academy, and hundreds of agent dorms. Jezzie walked down the hallways, crowded with people she had seen from around the island. She didn't know them by name, but she had definitely seen them before. One was even wearing one of her bracelets. She thumbed through the stack of papers as she found her way into the Sports Shop. When she got there, she was thoroughly disgusted, and she made a point of telling Jet Pack Guy so on their way to Aunt Arctic's igloo.

"I mean, this is the kinda job for a little kid with a stack of "Lost. Please find" posters." she said to the boy next to her. In response, he started walking faster. Jezzie talked more to fill the uncomfortable silence. "Why can't Aunt Arctic do this herself? What does she need us for?" she asked.

"She is one of the few people who know about the PSA, and she often donates money to our organization." Jet Pack Guy growled. Jezzie scoffed.

"So, it all comes down to money, doesn't it?" Jet Pack Guy started jogging.

"Yeah, like how you are only in this for the money." he spat at her. Sprinting, Jezzie got in front of him and held up a hand to make him stop.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Cool your jetpack, guy." she said, hoping to get a smile out of him for her clever way of twisting his name. Instead, he glared at her like she was something he'd go out of his way to avoid stepping in. "What's wrong with me liking a nice paycheck at the end of the month?" she asked.

"How about that most of the other agents are in it because they love Club Penguin and want to keep it safe, and your only in it for money?" he said. Jezzie crossed her arms.

"Yeah, keeping it safe from rampaging puffles." she muttered. Jet Pack Guy shouldered past her and walked into a small, neat igloo with flowers growing out front. Sighing with frustration, Jezzie wished that she had hit G earlier. She walked into the igloo, so different from the one she left behind. Everything seemed new, and there was not one speck of dust anywhere. A middle-aged woman with cat's eyes glasses was there, wringing her hands over an old typewriter.

"Aunt Arctic, we are from the PSA." he said, and she brightened at once. "I am Agent Jetpack Guy, and this is my partner-"

"And the use of the word partner is incredibly loose." Jezzie growled warningly, noting to demand a partner change in the near future. Jetpack Guy had absolutely no heart in his broad chest, and it disgusted her.

"And this is my partner, Agent…" he trailed off, and looked at Jezzie for her code name.

"Agent Jay, and it is a pleasure to meet you." Jezzie said crisply. Jetpack guy rolled his eyes. His respect for his new partner was incredibly low, considering that he had barely spoken a full sentence to her before today. He questioned Aunt Arctic without further assistance from her. To his surprise, she didn't care, combing her hair forward into her face with her phone comb. When they got outside after questioning the older reporter, she cut through it with her pair of phone scissors, resulting in a more or less straight pair of bangs that choppily covered her eyebrows.

"So, partner, if you were a puffle, where would you go?" she asked him, skipping like a little girl down the icy sidewalk. He noted that her shoes were covered in ragged duct tape. Her sweater had patches on the elbows, and the cuffs were a few inches too short, her exposed wrists covered in homemade bracelets. There were holes on the knees of her jeans, and the style was from about seven years ago.

"Back to my home." he said darkly.

"I mean if you were a regular puffle. You know, nice, bright, friendly…" she said, hinting none too subtly at his stoicism. If he noticed, he never let on. "We should go to the pet shop." she announced, and turned right at the fork. Jetpack Guy looked like he would like to disagree, but followed anyway.

"Why would you want the money anyway?" He asked, breaking the thick silence and scattering the pieces to the wind. "Don't you sell those bracelets?"

"I do, but bracelets don't get me nine thousand and five hundred coins, do they?" She said, stretching her legs to go faster. Jetpack guy was so surprised he stopped for a moment. He had to jog to catch up to her once he got control of his legs again.

"Nine thousand and five hundred coins?" he gasped down at his partner. "How does someone owe that much to anybody?" he asked, and behind his sunglasses his eyes were popping out of his head.

"My parents had some debts, and the interest rate was high…" she shrugged it off like it was no big deal.

There was a second of silence as Jetpack Guy mulled this over.

"Had?" he whispered. Nothing registered on Jezzie's face as she walked into the Pet Shop. She could murder herself for mentioning her parents at all. Now the only thing she had with her partner was pity. She hated being pitied. Grinding her teeth, she walked over to the puffle enclosure. All colors, save the two black ones, rushed up to her and squeaked to get her attention. Jezzie had always had a soft spot for the loner species, and reached out her hand to them, and she noticed a scrap of paper tucked in one corner. She pulled it out, and read it. I own fifty-one pairs of socks. Weird. Jetpack Guy was arguing with the shop owner, and muttered something that Jezzie could only guess wasn't polite.

"He says that he hasn't had time to look for two unattended puffles." He muttered, coming up beside her and looking into the pen. "He says he's too worried about his friend. Says he's stuck on the Ice Berg."

Jezzie rolled her brown eyes. "Let me guess what your gonna say next…"

"We need to go help him."

"You didn't let me guess." She pouted. "And it was the right answer too."

Five minutes of thick silence and jogging later, they were standing on the icy surface of the Ice Berg. The agents surveyed the large crescent moon shape piece missing from the Berg. About fifty or so yards away, a group of people were waving their arms and yelling. They took, careful, measured steps forward to survey the damage.

"So, any ideas in that head of yours?" Jezzie asked him. He nodded slowly, and began pacing.

"We would need a rescue squad, some ropes, maybe a boat or helicopter…" he reeled off, his mind whirling.

And then, with a crack and a splash, he was gone.

Jezzie fought the urge to smile.

REVIEW!