Det. Blaine Anderson was bored. He was sitting at his desk, a pile of paper he should be doing in front of him, almost taunting the man. Letting out a sigh he grabbed his now cold coffee, drinking it.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He had graduated form the academy almost a year ago as at the top (well, almost top, if it wasn't for his current partner) of his class. He should be out catching the bad guys, solving the murders, protecting the people and giving those poor souls who were robbed of their time justice. He was supposed to be a hero.

But no. He was doing paper work. For a case he didn't even work on.

He sighed again and dragged his hand through his dark curls. Things he did for his partner. What the hell did he get out of it anyway?

"You know my offer Anderson." A sultry voice said from somewhere above him.

"Santana." He said, looking up and meeting the gaze that would have most men on their knees.

"You may be perfect for the leading role of hobbit in Lord Of the Rings musical, but your badass cop ways and the fact you carry handcuffs 24/7 make up for it." The Latina woman winked, sliding down to perch herself on her partner's lap. Her perfectly manicured claws scratching his neck as she wrapped her arms around him.

Blaine rolled his eyes at her antics. "What happened to your golden rule of never fucking the same guy twice?"

"It's called friends with benefits. We both work crazy hours, and don't have time to get a little somethin somethin after work. It's win win."

"See, that's where your wrong Lopez." He let his arms wrap around her thing waist and pulled her closer. He could see the triumphant smirk on her lips as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing hers. "I have no issues getting a little somethin something." In one quick move her stood up, letting Santana fall on his lap and onto her ass.

"Fucking hell Blaine! Is that anyway to treat a lady?" She stood, rubbing her back and cursing in Spanish. Blaine just smirked, looking over at her.

"When I see a lady I'll let you know."

Bad move, Anderson.He thought. Despite being best friend's with Santana, there was only so much he could get away with.

There is a moment when you say to yourself, this is it. The end. I am going to die. Your regret of everything you have yet to do, that things you missed out on run through mind.

That moment for Blaine Anderson was watching Santana Lopez stand to her full height (2 inches taller then him, 5 with her heels she had on today) and stalk over to him.

Yup. He was going to die.

"FRODO. JUGS THE CLOWN. MY OFFICE. NOW!"

Thank God for their Chief.

Whatever tension was left between the two detectives vanished the moment they stepped into Chief Sylvester's office.

"Sit."

They sat.

"We have a new case." Their Chief stated, tossing a folder on the desk in front of Blaine. Opening it, he heard Santana gasp.

"Jesse St. James? The actor?" She asked, grabbing the file from Blaine's hands.

"Yes. He was found dead in his apartment this morning. Time of death estimates to be around 2-3 am."

"What are the causes?" Blaine asked, trying to get the file back from his partner.

"Initially we suspected a heart attack. But the autopsy showed poison in his system, we just haven't been able to pin point what kind. Now if you look closer at the file you'll see his wasn't the only body found."

"Chief...it's a lizard." Blaine's statement was meant to be serious, but his scoff at then end gave him away.

"A very rare, very expensive, very unknown lizard. And since you seem so...interested in the lizard, Anderson, you'll be the one to go to the shop he bought it from and interrogate the owner. Lopez, you'll question the wife. Now get out." The two Detectives nodded and took their leave.

"Jesse St. James was a promising young actor who starred in the hit film, "Caramel" a compelling drama about the young man named Jonathan Groff who, while dealing with his own coming out, has been discovered to be the Prince of a far off world. It's a coming of age tale, so hauntingly beautiful it makes everyone question their place in the world. It was nominated for two Golden Globes, including best Actor in a Drama and best Script, as well as earning St. James an Oscar for best Actor. Unfortunately, nothing he did after could compare to the role, making James a one hit wonder." Blaine finished the file, looking up to Santana.

"His wife is Harmony St. James, current Broadway baby. She's the star he never could be. She was in town, trying to get him to finalize the divorce but he refused to sign the paper. There's motive." She said, handing him a coffee as they looked over their case file.

"But what about this Pet Shop? It says here the name is Count K's Pet Shop, specializing in the the exotic. James spent almost every dime he had there. Turns out he had a bit of a Lizard obsession."

"Whatever. The guy's a freak. Let's just hunt down the suspects and get this over with. I am betting the wife got pissed, hired this Count to sell him some weird exotic poisonous lizard, and BAM! James is dead." She smirked, reaching for her coat. "Then you and I can wrap this case up, and celebrate back at place with some wine, music and re-inact all of your favorite porno's." Smirking she placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

"In you dreams Lopez."

Blaine didn't frequent China town. He never had a reason to. So imagine his surprise when he found the shop in no time.

The shop wasn't very flashy, a simple sign, a small door that led to stairs that led to another door.

He shrugged, hoping Santana was right. He lifted his hand to open the door when it opened on it's own.

Raising his eyebrow he stepped in. Immediately he noticed the smell of incense and jasmine. There was a slightly smokey note to the air and he fought the urge to cough.

"Hello? I'm looking for Count K? This is Detective Blaine Anderson with the SFPD." He announced stepping further into what looked like a living room area of the shop. The place was decorated in an almost victorian age meets ancient chinese culture. And it worked.

"I'll be right out, Detective, just finishing making the tea. Just make yourself comfortable." A voice sounded from somewhere to his left.

"Sure. Take your time." Blaine responded. He moved in, flopping down on the couch.

After what seemed like hours (it was really only a few minutes) footsteps came up behind him.

"I am sorry for the wait, but one can never be too careful when it comes to the fine art of brewing tea. I've also acquired some raspberry pastries from the lovely little french cafe that opened up on Hill St. Please help your self." The voice from before stated. Blaine wasn't paying much attention, choosing to rather stare at the ceiling. He heard the faint clinking of dishes being set down.

"Also my apologies. The Count is my grandfather, and has left the shop in my care for the time being. Is there something that I could help you with, my dear detective?"

Blaine finally dragged his gaze from the ceiling, looking at the silk clad body before him. He brought his eyes up, opening his mouth to state why he was here when his saw the eyes.

"To make things less confusing you may call me Kurt, if you wish. Welcome to my Pet Shop."