Warning: Light hint at BDSM/Kink topics and discussion of sugar daddies and sex

"The disappearance rate within females between the age of nineteen and twenty-seven within the local area has officially risen to dangerous rates. We are advising that all women within this age range not go out after dark and..."

The radio silenced with a twist of her wrist. She leaned back, eyeing the house before her.

Two story. A decent home for a decent family. A large fence for the quaint little backyard. Curtains were drawn shut.

A cute house. Simple, unspoken. A classic family home. And he seemed to be from a classic family. Had a daughter. Real cutie.

Comic Sans, huh?

"I've located his house. His car is in the driveway." The woman leaned back, snapping her hair over her shoulder.

"Anyone else?"

"Hm." She glanced around. "No. Looks like it's just his car. The client reported he should have a boyfriend. It's possible they don't live together yet. Or they might just be sharing a car."

"Or he might not be there."

She tsked. That'd be annoying.

"Well, I found his house. Two story. Lots of bedrooms. Fenced-off backyard. Guy uses curtains, too," She said. "Unless he goes somewhere I won't have much chance to get further information."

"Looks like you'll be there for a while. The client wanted personal information." Her phone buzzed as the person spoke. Probably a spam message. She didn't answer texts on her work phone.

Her lips pressed thin.

"Who's the client, anyways?" She asked.

"Client is not to be disclosed. They simply wanted location and any personal information we could find. They specified that they'd like us to focus especially on personal info. As in, what he does, who he interacts with, and his relationship status. Especially the relationship status."

"Personal information is going to be difficult. He has no social media accounts and doesn't disclose anything online. Hell, there's not even a picture of his child."

"I think that's why they hired private investigators, Giff. If he was obvious online they wouldn't need us. I did a look through all records. The record looks scott clear on the human law side. Let me... Oh, wait." The voice paused before shuffling could be heard. "He does have a paper trail, though. Adopted some kid last year. Around... seven months ago? Eight?"

"Adopted? How old?"

"Seven."

Giff's eyes narrowed. "Client only specified one child, right?"

"They're only specified in the biological child and the biological Fathers. They're especially interested in them."

"So what do you think? Old high school sweetheart? Possible stalker? Parent estranged from their child?"

"I can't provide client details for you."

A shuffle of curtains fluttered from the target's house. Seeing this, Giff started up her car, pulling off of the sidewalk to circle around the block and park further away.

"Well, considering that I'm going to be stalking this random skeleton for the foreseeable future I'd like to know a little bit. I don't need names or gender. I just was wondering what type of relationship they had with him."

She pulled forward, now parked further down the street at an angle. Anyone inside wouldn't be able to see her car unless they specifically walked out and peered from the driveway. Though this also meant she wouldn't be able to see through the windows. Not like she could with those damned curtains.

"No, I literally can't. The client paid in cash and used a throwaway phone. I don't even know what they look like, nor their name. We just have a drop-off place to give the information."

"Oh?"

"Yep. The most I know is that they want every detail about the skeleton that isn't online."

And there he was.

Comic Sans Font. Short, four-foot skeleton. In his twenties. Had a daughter who was born in October. And...

A woman with him?

Giff blinked, leaning forward in her seat. A woman indeed. Not the boyfriend the client insisted about. No. A woman.

"Um..."

"What's going on over there?"

"It's the skeleton. He left his house. He's with his daughter, but..."

"But?"

"He has a woman with him."

"Describe her."

"Tall. Black hair. Wearing sunglasses despite it not being sunny."

"It might be sunny later."

"That's debatable. She's also wearing all black. Ample bosom."

A long sigh dragged out over the phone. "I didn't need to know that last part."

"Trust me, for identifying her you do. Can see them from here. And he just kissed her. I think she's his affair partner."

"Really?"

This added a whole new layer to the investigation. The guy was cheating on his partner with a woman who was clearly a sex worker. Not only with that body and provocative outfits, but with the way that she pinned him against the car and practically kissed him dead?

"Looks like it. Boyfriend isn't home so he brought over someone. This is probably why we were sent to investigate." Giff leaned forward in the driver's seat, feet itching near the gas. "She looks like a - no offense, I feel bad for saying this - but a whore."

"What the fuck do you even mean by that."

Giff sighed. "She's wearing a revealing, over-sexualized goth outfit. Definitely an outfit you'd wear if you're trying to seduce someone. She's constantly touching the guy. Either she's completely attracted to him, or she loves the look of his wallet."

"I've looked into his recent financial history. He seems to be comfortable financially. Though he has a lot of... unusual purchases. For women things. Bras, outfits, a fucking lot of period products, and... oh."

"What is it?"

There was an awkward cough from the phone. Giff glanced over, an eyebrow-raising with her growing curiosity.

"What is it?" Giff repeated, more sternly and loudly.

"It looks like he's... ahem, rather interested in... activities for the bedroom. There's a whole page of certain... products he's ordered."

It took her a moment. "Oh dear god. Do we know it's for him?"

"One of them has his name on it. Goes around the neck. You know. For... activities."

Giff was the one who coughed that time. "I see. Activities."

"So it uh... it looks like this is a cheating situation. Boyfriend wasn't providing enough in a certain part of their relationship, so Comic found other people to satisfy him."

"Dear lord this is getting interesting," Giff hummed.

Her job didn't end there. No. Not until she was sure she found enough information to thoroughly call this case closed. So, when the skeleton climbed into the car with his buckled-up baby seat and girlfriend, she started her car and followed them. From a distance, of course.

Six locations. A lot of shopping. And a lot of discoveries.

Mainly that 'Comic Sans' was her sugar daddy.

Giff didn't really like to use that word. And she has never seriously applied it to a situation. Not until that day. Not until she watched some skeleton buy hordes of things with this woman, cramming his car with bag after bag of mostly woman's products. Shirts, pants, dresses. All mostly black and grey, with a goth vibe. Which hinted that it was for the woman he was with.

They went to a bunch of different stores. Clothing, makeup, anywhere that had products for woman's clothing and makeup. Basic stuff. The skeleton and human would flirt, whispering and giggling to one another. Seemed to be having a good time. Too good of a time. Especially when the woman would try on clothes a bit (a lot) revealing, and would pose certainly towards the skeleton. He'd typically become a blushing mess during those times and would duck into his hoodie whenever she opened up her mouth to say something. Damn. The girl had the guy wrapped around her finger.

There was only one way to settle their relationship once and for all. She could stalk and pry all she wanted, but that wouldn't provide as much proof as one would think.

The client asked for specific details about his boyfriend and daughter. However, she was starting to think this guy didn't even have a boyfriend. Or, at least, no concrete one. He might be the type of guy to bounce around. Might be experimenting. Or that simply might have broken up.

Or, as they assumed, there might be some cheating.

"A small coffee, please, extra sugar and cream," Giff said, folding up her menu and handing it to the waitress.

The waitress nodded, glancing towards the other seat. "Are you sure you want to be..." The older woman gestured towards the seat. "Alone? During this time? Hun, it's late, and the... the news -"

"It's fine." Giff raised her hand.

No need to worry about exaggerated disappearances. Sure, a lot of girls were going missing, but they were found within a few days without any memories. Only a few actually "disappeared". She did a case like this before. Some rich kid ended up lost in a forest after trying some new drug on the market. She'd be concerned if the woman were being killed, like other towns with a high murder rate, but they were almost all being found.

"At least be careful after dark," The chip in her ear spoke. Giff chuckled at the familiar voice after the waitress left.

"You worry too much."

"And you don't worry enough. Sure, that town is rather safe from any killings, but those are still women disappearing for days without any memories after they return. It could be rape or... uh, rape."

"Seriously?"

"I just spent all night combing through code and cameras to hunt down a skeleton's address because the client didn't know it. I'm a bit tired."

"I can tell."

"Just fucking stay safe, alright? If you go disappearing then I have to hunt down a new partner, and you know I'm not very fond of other people."

Giff snickered. "Because you're a gremlin."

"Hey, I'm happy in my little gremlin cave."

Oh, there she was.

Giff didn't move her body, but she did let her eyes jump to the woman's shoes quickly once she noticed her leaving the bathroom. Finally. Comic had already ordered their food, and now was playing with the baby skeleton in one of those high table chairs. Cute kid. Real cute kid. She's never seen a skeleton girl before, so the hair was certainly new.

"Sorry, turns out Clockie stole all of my pads again," She huffed, sitting down at their shared table. "Had to buy one of the ones in the bathroom, then the quarter jammed and - yeah, annoying times."

She ducked into her seat, narrowly missing the low-hanging light that Comic avoided with ease. Out of the corner of Giff's vision, she could see him grin. Wide and warm and all mushy from love.

Might as well keep a whip on her belt, dear lord.

"It's fine, I don't mind. Bean is very good company," Comic said, patting her little skull. "So, enjoy yer new clothes?"

"Of course."

She pressed her hands together. From this angle, Giff couldn't see her face. Which wasn't too terrible of an issue, but considering the soft reassuring breath she took, perhaps Giff should have seen it.

"You know, I thought about it, over this past month." Jane leaned back, dragging her hair between her hands to smooth down any strays. "Since everything's been going well between us. Bean's been very lovely. Interesting. But lovely. And you and I have been very good at communicating while dating. Financially we're set. We have a home. Clockie and Zero are okay with it."

Sans paused. His eye lights dragged up and down Jane's face, looking rather confused.

"Thinking about what?" He asked, before doing a double take. "Oh, shit, are you breaking up with me?"

Giff almost snapped her head in their direction. What? Did she already get all of the money she wanted from this guy?

"No, no, quite the opposite," Jane said. She took a deep breath. "I want a kid, Sans. Of my own. And your own. I want us to have a kid together."

Giff almost spit out her coffee.

She's followed around lots of other people. Heard lots of stories. But this? This took the cake. Then took the cake's cake, because what the fuck was she listening to? A child? Did she want to have a child? With him?

Comic Sans, similarly, also reacted as shocked as Giff was. He stuttered on his words, dropping the ketchup packet he had been holding.

"A kid - uh, right, we... um..." He tilted his skull to the side. "I mean, we've talked about it, we both agreed to do it, but..."

The last word he said was squeaked out.

"Yeah?" Jane asked, shoulders slightly rising. "Yeah?"

It took a moment for Sans to collect himself, though his cheeks were still dusted with a blooming blush. "Yeah. I'd... I think I'd - no, I know I'd like that. Let's do it."

Okay then. Well. The client would probably be very interested in hearing this.

"Do you still have that notebook filled with dad jokes to say when they're born?" Jane asked.

"Well, yeah, of course."

"And do you want me to say one of them for you when you cry?"

"Yes, please."

Guess that was that, then.

They spent the next few hours at that coffee shop, talking about their plans to have a child. Baby names, gender, room, where to buy clothes... a lot of plans. They sounded like genuinely excited and happy people who wanted to expand their family. Giff didn't bother to follow them when they decided to head back home. Instead, she lingered for a bit to finish her second coffee and piece of rhubarb pie, tipping the nice waitress before she went on her way.

"Giff."

Giff huffed, pausing in the middle of the parking lot. "I didn't even get to my car, I swear if I have another mission -"

"No, I just realized something."

"What?"

"Polyamory, Giff. I just managed to pull up the skeleton's old deleted account. In his bio, he includes a short snippet about himself. He's polyamorous."

He's...

"Oh, fucking damn it!" Giff huffed, running a hand through her hair. "That explains so much!"

"He's not cheating, he's just dating a sexy goth woman and a man who wasn't there today. Probably."

"Did you send the report?"

"Yes, I already sent it. The client isn't replying to any more messages. I think they ditched the phone once they got what they wanted."

Well, fuck.

Being a private investigator was... messy. Clients didn't give enough information, gave too much, were too present or too distant - there always was a complication. She jumped to a conclusion and was paying the price. Yeah, this was her fault. She saw one woman with cleavage and jumped the gun of assumptions. She deserved the guilt.

Then, suddenly, she was slammed against the ground.

"What the fuck -"

Pain shot throughout her back as she met the concrete, vision blurring for a moment before she looked up at the attacker that had tackled her into the darker corner of the parking lot.

Yellow eyes. Glowing yellow teeth.

She couldn't help herself. She screamed. Scared shitless of the man on top of her. She screamed harder than she's ever screamed. Or, she would have, but his hand was against her mouth in an instant and he was shoving something into her hand.

And just like that, she went limp. Eyes still open. But her mind became nothing more than a static buzz of emptiness.

"Ugh. You too." He sat up, rubbing his shoulder as he scooted off of her unmoving body. "If you're freaked out by my face alone you won't be compatible with... ugh."

The man tsked, glancing to the side. Mouth sneered into an annoyed, tired frown.

"Alright. You're already not a match. Let's just get this over with so I can drop you off somewhere random." He pulled a small notebook out of a pocket from his long coat, flipping it open. A pen clicked in his other hand. "Name?"

"Giffany Taylor," She found herself saying. "I go by Giff."

"Don't care." He wrote it down, squinting towards the page. "Any sisters or female cousins near your age?"

"No."

His hand moved again.

"Did you interact with any woman near your age today?" His voice, though deep, sounded rather bored, and slightly annoyed.

"One."

"Describe her."

"Long black hair. Was wearing sunglasses despite it being cloudy. Pale white skin."

The man paused.

"Did she have a big chest? And was she wearing dark clothes?"

"Yes. To both of those."

He clicked his pen a few times, eyebrows furrowing. "What was she doing?" He asked, low and careful and very slow.

"She was on a date with a monster. They decided to have a kid together."

"I'm sorry." He glanced over. "Fucking what?"

She only stared up towards the now dark sky.

"Fucking Offendorman's roses - tell me what was going on. Every detail." The stranger leaned forward.

She did. She told him everything. About where they went, what they bought, and their final decision at the end of the meal. The man stared, tapping the pen against his bottom lip.

"Alright, then," He said, moving to stand up. "And the name of that skeleton?"

"Comic Sans Font."

"Cool. Well, thanks for the information, even though you won't remember this," He said, before leaning down and picking her up. "And Comic Sans, huh... you got an address with that?"