Veronica strenuously made her way up the front steps to Mars Investigations. She wiped away a piece of sleep from her eye. She straightened up her thrown-on black shirt and jeans. It was way too early. She hadn't slept well the night before; but preferred to think it had something to do with her mother's impending trail, rather than asking Logan about dinner.
It'll be like an episode of Roseanne.
She let out a groan as she fell into her chair.
'How ya holding up, Daria?' Mac mused from her desk.
'Geez…' She mocked a monotone, 'Do you think if you breathed on me I might catch your enthusiasm?'
'Not from where you're sitting,'
'Ha. Did you get a chance to do that background check for Mr. Duarte?'
'I did, but it looks like his clean, I'll keep digging,'
Veronica rested her finger over the button on the answering machine, 'Nobody called, did they?'
'Not unless you were hoping to upgrade to cable or do a five minute survey?'
Soon enough we'll be singing It's the Hard Knock Life.
Mac meandered across from her desk and planted herself down in one of the client chairs, 'Veronica, I know money is still tight and everything, so I am happy to work pro bono,'
'Mac, I can't let you do that,' She fretted, 'I mean, you need something to live off-'
Mac raised her hand in disagreement, 'I am doing other side projects anyway, and it'll give us time to bounce back again,'
'I'll talk with Dad about it,' She insisted, pushing hair out of her eye, 'Speaking of, where is he?'
Mac surveyed the office.
'He was here this morning, he must've gone back out-maybe he's off buying donuts?'
'Yeah, if he's Chief Wiggum,' She chortled.
'Hey, I am a computer genius, not Sherlock Holmes,'
Veronica reached for her bag and dialed Keith's number in her phone. She pressed it to her ear, hoping to hear his familiar voice, but instead it just continue to ring and ring. She dialed again. There was still nothing.
'He isn't answering,' She sighed.
'He's probably meeting with someone, KOAS maybe?'
'Have you been watching Get Smart again?'
'It's the only thing on,' Mac shrugged.
'You're telling me you'd chose Maxwell Smart over Angus MacGyver?'
'Well yeah, MacGyver is a genius and all; but what's the point if you can't save the world while talking on a shoe phone?'
She could see Veronica was contemplating a response, 'Ahhh yes, but who can make a Rocket-powered harpoon gun with some mothballs, a telescope, cleaning fluid and handlebars?'
Mac nodded acceptingly as she walked back to her desk, 'Well, I guess MacGyver can,'
Where are you, Dad and what are you doing?
Veronica laid her head down on the cool desk. It wasn't even midday yet, she couldn't just pack up and go home, especially when someone could drop in at any moment.
So this is the life of a starving P.I or was it striving?
She looked up at her computer screen, she could feel her eyes getting heavy, and was trying desperately to suppress a rising yawn.
No, Little Nemo in Slumberland for you.
She begrudgingly headed over to the peculator and poured herself some coffee. It rippled across the mug Keith had given her. It was a welcome home gift, emblazoned with a cartoon of a woman sitting across from a private eye, while smoking a cigarette. The speech bubble read: 'I want you to follow my husband on twitter.' It was the closest thing to a private investigator joke he could find.
She tipped some milk into the cup and nimbly stirred it in. Then wandered back through the alcove, narrowly missing a passer-by.
'Oh, honey,' Keith gave a brittle smile, 'Sorry, I didn't see you there,'
'Ah, sure,' She furrowed her brows at him, 'Where were you anyway?'
'I thought I'd check in on the Sampsons, see if they needed anything, I gave them our card,' He didn't meet her eye.
'Well, that was nice,' She countered, getting suspicious.
'Anyway, what's been going on here?' He set the box of donuts on her desk.
'Nothing,' Mac rapidly reached in and grabbed out a chocolate donut covered in sprinkles.
For someone who just met with old clients, he's looking more like C.C Bloom than Bert Harris.