You Must Have The Wrong Person

If someone told Ava Holland that she would be trying to bail a demon and an elf out of jail this morning, she would have said they needed to have their head checked. Yet here she was. 

The day had started like any other. She rushed to get out the door as her cat and dog were underfoot, tripping over one of them in the process and landing on her knees. 

Both were bleeding. Fantastic. At least she wasn't wearing nylons today; too many pairs had ripped already courtesy of her cat's claws. Ava cleaned them up quickly and slapped bandages on, now running even later than she already was. 

She scarfed down an everything bagel covered in cream cheese as she drove to work, barely managing to clock in on time after briefly stopping to check her hair and fix her lipstick. Appearances were very important here.