(I dug up the story of my tumblr pfp by the incredible montydrawsstuff. It was not very finished! This was Way more work than just writing something from scratch, but hey ho... and not totally happy with all my rewrite but it feels good to get it out there!)
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR RUNNING TEAM CHAOTIX WEEK!
Prologue - Calibrating Gamut
Something rattled in the darkened alley between two yards, and a nervy dog barked. Drizzle dragged the clouds to the ground; what should have been almost pitch black (#070705) was a smoggy purple (#2d203e). The ratty wooden gate to a small yard in disarray creaked - its latch had worn away long ago.
Silence, save the dog barking. And the cars in the street and the wind rattling the slats of a lean-to bathroom. Better than silence - background hubbub that assured the dull emptiness of ordinary city nights. The lights behind the windows of the house before the yard glowed golden (#f6da68), and then were obstructed. The darkness shifted with interest.
The Chameleon (#cb008d) barged the backdoor open with his hip, hands and tail grasping full bin-bags. From inside, a wash of noise erupted - jenga tiles falling, and a reptilian growl.
["You can't shake the table, Charmy!"
"You did that! Your big stupid tail knocked it all over!"]
Espio raised his leg high and flipped the top of the wheelie bin, throwing the bags on some rats. He shook his hands, and dragged it round and through the back gate for collection. The door to the house was still open. From the darkness, the heat of the herpetarium was waving the air. Despite the bright light spilling out, the darkness crept closer in quiet methodical clanks.
Espio closed the gate and attempted to latch it. The darkness sprang back from the house and lay prone. Standing in the doorway, Espio looked back into the yard; his eyes roved in the dinge, resting on something shining there. If what lurked could panic, it was surely sweating under his steely gaze.
But it didn't - it returned an even steelier one, twitching one lens.
"Espio, for god's sake don't leave the door open, it's freezing!"
Espio blinked, and his face was blank and bored.
"Thought I saw a racoon."
He slammed the janky door. The figure on the ground clanked as quietly as it could to it's cold feet, lenses facing two different directions: one roved the sky, the fence, the houses around for new information; the other trained on the figures laughing in their warm house.
I only realised it was @team-chaotix-week today, so I wrote this in an hour just now in bed, I am sorry!
Day 1 - Tunnel Vision, 1.2k
Gen, Silly, There's a moral lesson in there trust me bro
Espio is a Stakeout master. Vector is also here... and so is Charmy.
I will put on Ao3 tomorrow or maybe sometime. Excuse the spacy formatting
In the drivers seat window, of an empty beater of a car - parked inconspicuously inaccurately:
a tiny circle of condensation appeared from nowhere. It faded for half a minute, long enough for an onlooker to think they imagined it, before it dusted the window again.
The chassis of the car creaked: from afar, it looked as though it was riding on the slightly dipped kerb, but in fact it was just an unseen and unsteady load that tipped it.
The traffic phase came and went, then came again. An Iguana in an apron finished their smoke break outside the corner store, and stepped inside.
"Is that our man?" Vector said quietly, raising his head up from the back seat with a smooth motion like disturbing swamp waters - just his brow and eyes, mouth slightly agape.
Espio materialised with a jolt behind the steering wheel, his breath-patch puffing into relief on the glass with him.
"Sh!"
"Couldn't have been quieter…" Vector grumbled. His spine was bent in a press-up pose without arm support, since those were occupied with a clipboard and pen. Espio could see his abdominal muscles flexing and settling in for a long workout.
"Not our person. No case, ears exposed and no phone." Espio whispered.
"Corner of Grover, head in to the KEX…"
"I hadn't forgotten, Vector. Patience."
"Yeah yeah, I got patience for weeks. This isn't the grimy sort of street I had in mind, though."
"It's grimy enough."
"This right here is grubby, not grimy. You can tell from all the grub and the lack of grime."
"Sh."
Espio's eyes narrowed, and his view narrowed too, into a line at eye level, checking the gaze of everyone who's toes touched tarmac on their street corner. Espio could read intention in eyes as clearly as the weather from clouds, and dismissed each pair as they ambled past them: bored, tired, hungover, brain-dead, sunglasses… Sunglasses? On a grey day? Perhaps they were hiding their guilty conscience… or they were also using a roller-cane - fair enough, now he felt bad as they headed the other way out of view.
A goat woman had a deep frown line as she checked her watch, standing at the bus shelter - could have been normal, or a very good cover of a spot to be drumming your fingers and shuffling your shopping bags. She glanced up at the sign three times in ten seconds, darting back and forth from the junction nearby to the digital sign at speeds-
"FINISHED! Now what do I do?" Charmy shouted in his ear suddenly, causing Espio to re-materialise in a huff to shove him away. Once Charmy was gone, the bus had come and so had the woman - he didn't see her get on it and scanned the windows for her.
"You finished? All hundred of them?" Vector gasped, also too loud for Espio's liking.
"Yep, all hundred numbers to a hundred!"
"I thought I heard you miss 58?"
"I didn't miss it! It was right there after 57!"
"I didn't hear you say it,"
"They were in my HEAD like you SAID!"
"Hmmm, are you sure you didn't miss any?"
Charmy growled and bonked his helmet on Vector's side, causing him to lose his reflex angle plank and shake the 'empty' car. Espio spun around and glared at the two of them, as Vector shoved Charmy back in his seat.
"Alright that's great. Now do it in French. Gotta check they're all still there."
Charmy groaned, slumped down behind the dashboard, and started mumbling:
"Une, Duh, Threur, Foueur,"
"In your head, Charmy!"
Espio pinched the space above his horn, and tried to imagine slowing his breathing down to that of a corpse or perhaps a rock.
"We could economise on his tutor:" Vector muttered, resuming plank with a strong tail to stabilise him "I think she's taught him everything she knows about french."
Espio absorbed himself back into the world around him, becoming one with the window shield in his mind. He was a security camera, no - he was heat-seeking missile for whoever his target ended up being. His beady eyes darted across the grimy and grubby street-
"Finished!"
He didn't jump this time; he slumped, in a grump.
"No way you finished that fast Charmy!"
"I did! I remembered that everyone uses the same numbers so I just thought of a picture of number One-Two-Five-Six-Up-To-Nine, and then the other numbers are all just them lot again matched together!"
"Ah well, good problem solving."
"Almost." Espio said through gritted teeth: "You also need a Zero."
"… And now I'm finished! What's my next job?"
Vector disguised a sigh as a yawn, and tapped the side window with his tail.
"Count all the pavement tiles."
"What? No way that's gonna catch the bad guy!"
"But french numbers were?" Espio groaned to himself, and tried to cover his internal ears.
"We gotta know how far the shop is based on the size of the tile. Use triangle angles?" Vector summoned an impressive enthusiasm for entertaining Charmy, but Espio pleas with him in the mirror with his eyes.
"What's an angle?"
"Okay, just - never mind. What about all the signs you can see out the window, in alphabetical order."
"That's helpful." Espio mouthed to Vector as he disappeared again, and Vector snarled a tooth back at him.
Espio had of course, been aligned that they were absolutely not abandoning Charmy when he bumbled in through the metaphorical window in their life, the walls of which he had buzzed up against ever since. And of course, he supposed, he had to come to their office during the day when they weren't upstairs in the flat, even though he broke the lamp and accidentally stung a client on his first day rampaging around the desk. Bringing him on dangerous missions seemed stupid, but since they purchased his helmet Espio had relented that nothing was harder than Charmy's head was thick, and he'd probably put a dent in an incoming asteroid with his own force of will.
But this was where he drew the line: stakeouts, intelligence gathering, covert operations - these were Espio's domain. Vector himself was more of a distracting hindrance than a helpful second set of eyes. A child? This child specifically? This wasn't fair on any of them.
"Okay ready:" Charmy shouted again.
"Go ahead Charmy, quietly though - Espio's being a jumpy Joe today."
And of course Vector was enjoying this. Did he even care about illegal incendiaries?
"Okay so there's No A's, 'Bish Bash Wash Laundrette', 'Bus Stop D', No c's, No d's except the bus stop, 'Emergency Exit', another 'Emergency Exit'-"
"Two of them, great good to know."
"Yeah two of them. Okay so no F's… No wait: 'Fire Marshall Point', 'Grower Court' Road sign, 'Handlebars Bike repair and Moustache Trimming'"
"It's 'Grover', Charmy." Espio sighed. He gave up being invisible; since Charmy had his face pressed to the window it seemed less alerting to onlookers to see Espio also sat in the drivers seat than a child on their own in a car.
"Oh, is it one of those funny W's that's actually a V?"
"No. Just a V that's actually a V."
Charmy was eerily quiet for a moment, squinting out the window.
"Okay… then it's Grover spelled with to Vs."
"Charmy, it's not-"
Espio turned his head to chide him, ever so focussed as ever- and spotted the sign.
Grower Court.
"Put your seat belt on Charmy. We are on the wrong street."
Vector and Espio on their first day with a baby in the house
this is very pantsd and a bit meandering, but I became an Uncle/Aunt this year so have gotten to witness the two people I respect most in the world get completely humbled by tiny screamy things so thought I would have a crack at a team chaotix classic: baby Charmy
will eventually put on Ao3 when I stop writing these in bed so excuse the tumblry formatting, all my italics disappear and come back weird.
Espio shouldered the door open to the Detectives Agency Office, his eyes barely open and staggering across to the desk, where he shoved half the papers off and onto the chair behind them. Vector loped in after him, and placed the ratty old picnic basket carefully on their desk, before they both collapsed on the sofa. Their bodies trembled with the stress and exhaustion of the past 36 hours, and as Vector lent back and stretched his long spine snapped and popped from skull to tail.
There was a moment of quiet, then a tiny gasp, then a wail that pierced them and sent their nervous systems into tailspin.
"Oh good. It's awake again."
Vector was so desperate he was laughing as he peeled himself from the saggy cushions and put his hands either side of the basket, his long nose protruding into it:
"Whaddya want? We told you you have the right to remain silent!"
The baby bee inside may have had the right but it lacked the inclination. Vector couldn't imagine where it fit all this sound in: It was barely the size of his own hand, so little compared to standard baby size that the donated newborn sleep suit swaddled it and had been tied at the ends so there were no extra flappy bits it could choke on. It was lucky for this baby that one helpful lady on the street had mentioned to him about safe sleep techniques. Not so lucky for this baby that she didn't want any more babies, and so it was stuck with the two stooges who found it for now.
"What's wrong now? What do we do?" said a broken voice at his side.
Vector identified a note in Espio's throat that he didn't think he'd ever heard before - he was on the verge of crying, or screaming too. The baby gasped for air, his little face screwed up with red cheeks, and summoned another head-aching sound.
"I guess all the same again? Change-feed-pat-sleep?"
"Thought we fed then changed?"
"Yeah but it smells."
Espio was apparently dead to all senses except his ears, but he shuffled to the kitchen to boil water. Vector lifted the squealing grub and bounced him, which didn't stop the shriek but made it wavier which was at least something, while Espio cleared the other half of the desk, stuck a large plastic bag down as a changing mat, and placed a small cup of water with the cotton pads they'd been donated.
Vector watched, too slow to react, as Espio stuck his elbow in the cup of just boiled water.
"Ow." He reported.
"Why did you do that?"
"To check if it's too hot for baby."
"The water you just poured from the kettle?"
"… Yes."
"Go to bed, Espio."
Espio could not hide the excitement from his bleary eyes, but he shook his head: "You need help, I'm not leaving you to do this alone."
"Please, Espio: if you get a couple hours sleep… then I can get a couple hours sleep… then we'll be able to figure out a plan… then maybe neither of us will… burn ourselves any more." Vector paused every time the baby renewed its scream, and they both winced at the summit of each new holler.
"I don't think I'll sleep through this."
"I'm looking at you, and I'm telling you; you're gonna. You go upstairs, and if you're still awake in fifteen minutes: come down again and I'll give you fifty quid."
Espio grunted, but relented and went to the kitchen sink to scrub down.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?"
"Sure. Worst comes to worst I'll stick him back outside and we'll pretend we never found him."
"No-oo…" Espio mumbled as stumbled up the stairs to his mat on the floor.
The grub howled anew, and Vector shushed it this time, placing his long chin on top of its tiny fuzzy head. His snout almost completely covered the baby, which muffled some of the sound - and seeing that its devious plan to make Espio curl up in a ball and sob was thwarted, it settled for whinging and grabbing at his neck with its bundled up hands.
After fifteen minutes of bouncing, Vector was confident the water was cold and the fifty he didn't have was safe, so he embarked on the big change. The baby yowled and wriggled, especially enraged as the cotton sack came on and off over its head. On the third try to put it back on, Vector stretched his hand over to the pencil-case, and produced a large pair of scissors to cut the thing in half.
"Stupid, why make baby clothes that have to stretch over baby heads? You don't mind it being a waistcoat, do you? Oh, shoot, that makes loose clothes in the basket, err… Okay that was a bad idea, I see now, but you don't mind some sellotape do you?"
By the time he was finished with his arts and crafts project, the grub looked like a birthday present wrapped in a moving car, and Vector had the distinct impression new guardians shouldn't have access to sharp objects. He placed the baby back in the basket then went to put the scissors, knives and screwdrivers in the lockable drawer in their kitchen.
He realised, however, that the baby had been quiet while he taped it up, because now it was noisy again.
"Okay, the baskets not what you want now, I see, I see. I deduce with my massive intellect that you must be hungry."
The formula they'd bought was one made for insectoid babies; it had a borderline jelly texture with all the extra sugars in it, and glooped as he stirred and shook it.
"Rather you than me, kid, but I guess it takes all sorts."
And take it the bee did, gnawing on the end of the bottle again like it owed it money. Vector was sure he'd seen a tiny row of teeth in there that were on the verge of erupting through the gums, but did that tell him anything about how old this baby was. All the kind folk at the emergency clinic could tell them was that it was okay, a bit underfed, and shouldn't be eating any solids until its wings were unfolded and sort of mobile - without any actual age that would have to do for a development checkpoint. Oh, and it was probably a he - but they didn't see many bees at this clinic so weren't sure about that, plus Vector and Espio had been calling it 'it' for about a day at that point.
It faked him out three times, pretending it was done then screaming when the syrupy goop was taken away, before he held it upright and surveyed its dopey face. Nothing paternal stirred in him, just that same bottomless dread that had been mounting since they found it. He didn't know if he should be relieved or disappointed - this temporary guardianship while they waited for a foster place had proven he not only couldn't be a guardian, he couldn't afford it. Sure, technically he'd been looking out for Espio since he took him on to the team, but that was only because he had a flat and Espio had only just moved to the City. Vector hadn't asked if he was old enough to be on the rent then, as his old landlord had done to Vector when he first moved here. But a baby was going to be a baby for a lot longer than a teenager could still afford to be a child in these parts.
It was getting sleepy, so he gently stuffed it in the picnic basket again, and crept to the desk to sit on all their case work. Never mind the bills, they had to find a home - he flipped through the yellow pages for nurseries, making a list of all the numbers of people who might know people who might help.
Just as he was praying, the phone rang right beneath where it was snuffling. He clattered to grab it, but too late: the tiny coughs and gasps of another howling session inbound sounded.
"Hello?" He snarled as he rocked it on the table.
"Hi, um, is this the Chaotix Detective Agency?"
Vector stood up and took the basket by the handle to lift like a dumbbell, swinging it on the up and down.
"You called, so you tell me."
"Er, what?"
"It is. Go ahead, what do you need?"
"Maybe this is the wrong number… I thought you might be the right people to ask about a missing parrot…"
"Oh, right, a parrot. Then please excuse my tone, I thought you were the bank."
"…"
"Never mind. Okay, so go ahead: green and a foot tall, or a person?"
"Pet, and it's an African Grey, named Titus but I call him Baby T or Mr Squeaky because he likes to squeak at his squeaky toys."
"Of course you do." Vector sighed as the baby bee choked on his own sobs; "Okay, go ahead and I'll make a note, but I should warn you our desk is rather busy at the minute."
He hung up the phone after scribbling a note on a receipt, and begrudgingly began the whole routine again after only a sliver of a break.
Espio wasn't sure which it was keeping him glued to his roll-mat as he stared at the evening sky out the window: it could have been his body that seemed to have metamorphosed from muscle and bone to straw and dry beans in a lumpy limp sack; or it could have been the head that someone must have been using as a kick drum for the 2 and a half hours he had been sleeping. He assured himself he was just about to get up and help Vector, but the mutiny was staged, and he blinked without opening his eyes again…
Then he heard the noisemaker downstairs, and he rolled into a stand to shuffle downstairs.
"Well, now who's looking bright eyed and bushy tailed?" Vector asked hopefully. Espio was sure he didn't, but he nodded seriously.
"Ready for you to take your break. Did you get round to phoning anyone?"
"Ah. No."
"Fine, I'll go and switch the washing to dry, then call."
"Oh, I didn't put any on."
"… Right, I'll do that. Would you mind holding it a minute longer while I make toast?"
"Can you make me some?"
Espio glared at the two of them. Vector was holding the bee in one large hand, and jingling a belt buckle in the other. The baby was absolutely transfixed, little mouth in an 'o' as the light moved around on the metal.
"What have you been up to, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Just… this. Every time I try to do anything it gets all upset so I just gave up."
Vector not doing his share of washing wasn't annoying, in fact it would have been a momentous day if he had remembered it. It was also quite like him to forget to do any work when he had something on his mind. But forgetting to eat meant he was seriously out of his mind. Espio heated a tin if beans on the electric burner and watched him suspiciously as he made the same 'o' face, whispering little "What's that?"s and "How bout that?"s to the bundle of bee that he supported just his broad hands.
"We're not keeping it."
"Why would you even suggest that? And where's my toast?"
"Toasting. Because you look like you're getting too into this."
"Making the best of things."
Still, he showed the baby his beans on toast to sniff before he ate each bite - it wasn't impressed, but it was awake and quiet enough to be of some entertainment Espio supposed.
"Alright, catch:" Vector said suddenly, dumping the bee on Espio just as he felt his hand getting warm. Espio nodded glumly.
"Have a nice sleep. Then, when we're both rested, we make a move on the phone book."
"Hm? Oh yeah, the phone. Somebody rang about a bird by the way. Don't ask me who, what, or where I wrote the details down - I forgot."
"Outstanding work."
Espio was so ready to show Vector how it was done: the baby would go in the picnic basket, and he would get things shipshape in the next forty minutes before he tended to it.
The baby screeched as it went in the picnic basket, bending its back backwards like the basket was hot coals not cheap linen stapled in to keep it taut. This couldn't be normal, there had to be a solution: Espio consulted the donated baby book that looked like it was printed fifty years before he was born, so he skipped over all advice pertaining to alcohol in bottles and sweating out fevers.
The baby did not like the stretching exercises, nor did it like being sung to, which hurt a bit. He saw some success with holding it up and bouncing, but as soon as he even hinted at placing it back down, the fuss began again. The book suggested crying it out, but he hadn't so much as washed a single plate before he thought his head would explode, and he heard Vector getting out of bed upstairs.
"I got it." Espio called up the stairs, then glared at the baby.
"Don't you understand I have things to do?" He growled. It stared at him with the furrowed brow it made as it was deciding whether or not to cry.
"Of course I don't! I'm a tyrant with no respect for your space!" He whinged back at himself in a high pitched voice, wagging its arms by the tied ends.
"That's very disappointing. I think we the people should rise up against your regime."
"I have the ruling class under my control! You'll never convince Vector to join your cause!" The dictator baby's arms gestured gestured dramatically under Espio's control.
"You may have turned him against his own interests, but I will not let you divorce me of my faculties!
That said, what am I doing?"
Of its own accord, the bee flapped one arm curiously at his horn, but Espio was looking out the window and not at it so it started to whine again.
"Do you like being outside? Because that's where you're going if you will be so unreasonable."
Espio tugged the snug ties of his scarf around his chest - the book had instructions for carrying the baby hands-free, but no illustrations and it was not optimised for things so small. Still, the bee was in, and somewhere between dozing and gringing. Espio wrapped up a bottle of formula in a hat hoping it would be warm in not too long, and brought the changing set in the plastic bag from the desk. With one foot out the door, he remembered Vector might have opinions, and scribbled the words 'All good, gone out' over something illegible on the back of a receipt, and left without keys.
"Alright, now you can shout and Vector can sleep."
It was early evening, and the park was still warm and smelled like apple blossom; Espio turned the baby around in the scarf and pointed out bugs, trees and bark until he realised he was talking nonsense again, but it was nonsense in the quiet: at his chest, the baby slumped slightly, so he shifted it back around where it drooled on him. It liked the walk so much, he had to wake it up to feed it, which was the calmest feed they'd had even once.
Stupid thing, why couldn't it have slept in the damn basket? Still, Espio supposed it was some kind of flattering that it wanted to be close to him - he liked to think of himself as a very calming presence, and his inability to calm this bundle down all while they rushed around looking for the deserter and then around the hospital had dented that idea somewhat.
Still, this wasn't a skill he wanted to have: he felt like everyone was looking at him, and they didn't seem as friendly as when Vector was there with him. Perhaps he looked less like a responsible but unfortunate temporary guardian, and more like a teen parent. He almost called out to one particularly sneery old squirrel lady that this wasn't his, but felt that might invite more trouble. So instead, they walked and he talked around the park again, enjoying the sound of his own voice without the howl:
"but, naturally, he hadn't seen that NinjaMan had covered the floor in cooking oil, so he slid across the whole building in a long montage of shots that suggest he's sliding for miles-
"Ah!" The baby yapped.
"-Yes it's very funny, then he inexplicably swerves - just accept that, it's slapstick rules - and bounces down the spiral stairs,"
"Ah."
"Lowest common denominator humour? That's very harsh, it's parodying the genres most iconic-"
"ESPIO!"
"Ah!"
"Ah. Hello Vector."
Vector had charged from the entrance to the park over to where Espio was pacing among the trees that were busy with animal life. He was remarkably red in the face for a man who was usually green.
"Where's - the - baby?" He panted.
"Ah!" grunted the baby, and Espio pointed to his scarf bundle.
"Oh for crying out loud, I thought you'd gone to throw it out!" Vector had a hand to his chest.
"Why would I do that? We haven't gone through my favourite of the NinjaMan Returns Trilogy yet."
"Because it was screaming and then it suddenly stopped! And you were gone!"
"I left a note."
"A nothing-y cryptic one I could barely read!"
"Possibly, not intentionally."
Vector growled in a low rumbly voice, and put one arm on a nearby plum tree to catch his breath, causing the birds above to flap about as they lost their balance and fell a few branches down.
"Very sorry to have worried you," Espio paced back and forth as he spoke so the baby wouldn't whine again; "You're a light sleeper when we're busy."
"I get it, it's a nice thought. Can't sleep when we've got a job to do." He puffed.
"We had better find him someone to take it, then."
"Ah!" The baby protested against the shushing. Vector surveyed it sadly.
"Yeah, I guess so."
Espio strolled slowly around the bottom of the tree shushing as the baby started to fuss again.
"Come on, you were doing so well, what's the need for this?" He sighed quietly, feeling Vector's eyes on him as he passed by again.
"What? Am I doing it wrong?"
"No. Well, I don't know. I just… I feel so bad for it."
"For being stuck with us? Certainly a pitiable situation."
"Ahh-ahh!"
"The whole thing just sucks. You're just bowling along, being all small and helpless, then you get left on a bus all hungry and passed around by them, then by us, then to the hospital then back to us then on to the fosters."
"It's not fair, but better to keep moving it on until it finds people who can care for it adequately."
"Or, we hang on to it until someone wants it for good?"
Espio stopped walking and widened his eyes at Vector like he'd just pointed a gun at him."
"Wait for an adoption candidate? That could take months!"
"It could be quicker than that!"
The baby yowled at Espio for stopping the walk, and he gestured to it.
"Exactly! Look, we're incompetent! It knows that too!"
"Babies always cry, we're not doing so bad!"
"We don't have anything it needs!"
"I thought you were a minimalist!"
The baby screeched, and Espio groaned, one hand on the baby and one hand his own head. Above them, the birds in the trees seemed to be screeching too.
"I respect your empathy, truly, but it's not… kind to put your feelings… above this baby's objective best interest." Espio paused for the screaming of the birds above them.
"No such thing - what the hell has got them so riled up?"
"Don't change the subject!"
"Ahh! Ahh!"
"Ahh-ck! Ahh-ck!"
Something loud above them made Espio's blood run cold:
"Oh god, is that another baby? Has everyone with a newborn conspired against us?"
Vector shielded his eyes against the setting sun, peeping up through the white flowers and green leaves.
"Hold on, there's something… black or blue or something in there… Squeeze the baby for me?"
Espio palmed his own head, but jostled the baby.
"Ah!"
"Ah-ck"
All three of them on the ground stared up at the tree in silence. Vector patted Espio on the shoulder, and without looking down he made a platform with his fingers interlocked for Espio to step on, which Espio stepped on.
The baby twisted its head from his chest to look as he stuck his arm out to a huge grey bird with curious eyes that gingerly stepped onto his arm, and Vector lowered them down.
"Espio, did you even know we were looking for a parrot?"
"How would I have known that?"
The parrot looked at the baby with huge and curious eyes; it was a beautiful thing with a naturally smiley disposition, but all the same the sharp beak was too close for Vector's liking. He took the baby out from Espio's wraps and held him away from the parrot as they slowly and carefully began to walk home. It flapped as though to take flight when they got out from tree cover, but the baby 'Ah'd again, and the two of the set off a conversation between them.
"Well, how's that for detective work?"
"What, you're calling that a find?"
"Not mine, the baby! It's a little genius!"
"Hardly. We're having a strange few days for fate, I fear."
"If it's not a genius, it's one lucky bug." He murmured, bouncing the bee: "Aren't you? A Lucky Charm."
"If you do intend to keep it around, you absolutely cannot name it after a cereal."
Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types | Rating: General Audiences | Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Team Chaotix
Tags: Angst, Injury, Child Injury, poor communication, Medical Procedures
@team-chaotix-week 2026 day 6!
Charmy is wounded in the pride and the back, while Vector and Espio struggle to see his point of view
I will go back, qc read and split this into chapters I think it is one big wander from me, just wanted to really consider Charmy Bee today
Too long to post to tumblr so heres the first chunk
A blade blazed between Charmy's antennae - they waved back on reaction after the speeding knife sailed over his head and to its target.
The mighty machine in front of them felt the kunai lodge into its knee joint and slowly bent its lumbering form to remove it. Now, its head was bent forward, with a balled shine reminiscent of Eggman's own dome. Charmy felt a hand on his back and braced with a wicked glee.
Vector threw Charmy like a cannon lobbed a ball at the giants skull, and he curled up letting the force spin him. A satisfying Clang let the team on the ground know Charmy had hit it by the helmet, and he bounced up into the air with a spin to show them he was okay. Little birds flew around its head, but they had always been there; something about this particular genus of mega robots seemed to tempt the birds from the telephone wires to rest on their shoulders. Charmy had carried one up with the speed of his bounce, and it seemed just as confused as he did about the situation.
The robot staggered and flailed, swinging its arms around that Vector and Espio dodged with some grace and some tumbling; they scampered in opposite directions, crossing paths with Vector passing before Espio so he could use the split second cover to vanish. From his high vantage point, Charmy could still see where he whipped the dirt in streaks, but he knew that only told him where he'd been: Espio could turn on a dime and leap into the air to hide his next direction.
With the two of them seemingly inaccessible, the Goliath lunged at Vector; but the braced crocodile arms never met metal to wrestle, as it staggered on its knee that still had a knife stuck in it, and tumbled to the ground. Now was their chance, but Charmy couldn't see Espio to be sure where he wasn't.
"Incoming!" He shouted, and dove for a joint between metal panels where a collar bone would have been.
His stinger pierced the connection and splintered it with his weight and speed, and the thing jerked, but now he was stuck by the backside. Vector didn't even have time to react before the invisible man had tugged him by the armpits and with his foot pressed on the metal Espio tugged Charmy free, stinger aching but not damaged.
"Again! Throw me up I want a boost!" Charmy squeaked. It seemed like something Espio would have rolled his eyes at, but he did it anyway, swinging him under-arm into the air by one hand before dashing around in a loop to build speed and crash that wave into the fracture Charmy made, severing arm from torso in a crunch. At its damaged leg, Vector shivved with the knife to get purchase and pulled, separating it of its movement as easily as a normal man might have moved a sofa.
Charmy let the throw carry him up and up, only flying higher when he'd run out of steam to reach his optimum height. He was bigger than he was last year, and had learned to judge where he'd reach terminal velocity based on the trees, power lines and horizon. He looked it top to bottom, and decided the neck was his.
Too high to call out to them, he whistled as he started his descent, feeling the air whip his fur. He tucked his wings as tightly as they could be tucked, and smacked down like a bomb into the crevice under the robot's chin where an Adam's apple would be.
The thin metal shell cracked, and from the fault lines burst a particularly shoddily installed spring joint that snapped into sharp points that tore at Charmy, shredding his hoodie and trousers and scuffing his helmet. From his spine, he felt a sharp bolt of pain as one of his wings tore.
His throat immediately filled with sick feeling, and his hands formed fists. The robot he'd plummeted into shivered to a stop, and he stayed crouched in its shattered neck.
"Nice shot Ch- whoa, are you okay?"
Vector was over his shoulder, and he pulled the perpetrator from his back. Charmy squeaked, then decided to turn that into a stretch, which hurt more so he closed his eyes and rattled his head.
"Y-yeah! Did you see me? Did you see how fast I was going?"
"We sure did, but is that a cut on your left wing? Right in the middle, you poor thing, let me take a look-"
"Hey, geddoff me!" Charmy swung a fist at Vector's gentle hand. Espio re-appeared on his other side as he turned his back to Vector.
"Charmy, that's quite a tear. You must be more careful in future." Espio said seriously, and Charmy felt that sick in his throat again, and couldn't look in his eyes.
"Oh, yeah that, it's a bit sore, but it's just a wing, it doesn't feel like an arm."
"Ah, maybe you're right. We wouldn't know I guess…" Vector scratched his own back as he thought; "Still, better rest that flipper 'til it fixes itself. Take it we're walking to the next-"
"This can wait," Espio interrupted: "Until tomorrow, when Charmy is feeling better."
There he went again; Charmy gritted his teeth.
"It doesn't hurt! I feel fine, and we gotta keep going, this roads never gonna be opened again if we don't get rid of them all!"
"You may feel fine, but you'll feel better tomorrow. Then, we can take it twice as many."
Espio didn't insist on many things, but when he did he was stubborn as rocks: he was already collecting his kunai and checking how long it would take them to get home at a run. Charmy turned to Vector for help, but he had a 'hmm' face that told Charmy he was not about to get his way, whatever it was Vector thought.
"Nah, he's got a point. There could be loads more of these right up to the Tey Bridge. It's a marathon, not a sprint, all that."
Charmy growled and shook his head, helmet wobbling around where a strap has been torn by the spring. That seemed to decide it for Vector.
"Lemme have that-" he lifted the helmet easily over Charmy's antennae, inspecting the broken strap; "I'll get that fixed up, can't have you dive bombing with your fuzzy hair exposed."
Charmy knew he was defeated, but continued to whinge and whine that he didn't want to go home as they cleared up their mess while Espio inspected the strange aura around its head, that was even now attracting birds and small rodents. He swallowed hard and often as they hefted the parts over to the side of the motorway, his back sparkling as he tugged the arm by himself.
"I got that, you have a rest-"
"Shut up! Leave me alone, I can do it!" He snapped. Vector's easygoing smile - frightening to strangers, sure, but with an unmistakable warmth - slipped. His eye twitched for a moment, and though he kept smiling his teeth looked in sharper relief. Charmy's face felt hot, his arms shaking as his back burned.
"Well that's not nice, I'm tryna help you."
"Shut up! You tell me to shut up all the time, so just - buzz off!"
Vector finally stopped smiling; his eyes narrowed and he thought, but he didn't have anything to say back to that. He picked up the other end of the arm, ignoring Charmy's sour face for him.
They jogged home in silence. Charmy's legs quickly began to ache, his chest stinging as he tried to breathe slowly. And worst, at the top of every breath his back twinged anew, so the pain came in tingling waves - the receding was almost worse, because he knew it would come back, and he could only not breathe for so long.
Espio jogged in front of them, examining a huge glass bead he'd found in the robots one beady camera, rolling it around in his palm and watching the world through it. He glanced at the others for mere moments, but quickly absorbed himself in the orb.
Vector, however, was looking at Charmy out the corner of his eye the whole way, but didn't say a thing. Charmy half hoped he might offer to give him a piggy-back like he would when Charmy was dead tired and little. But he was glad he didn't, because Charmy couldn't imagine anything that would make him feel more sick right now. Why did they have to coo over him like that? They never did that for each other. When Vector got his tail shut in a train door on a chase, Espio laughed for the first time that month. When Espio tried to do a flip and it turned into a flop with legs stuck out either side in a splits, Vector brought it back up in a game of pictionary just for the sake of telling all their friends. Objectively, those were funny, but they never got all soft over their own injuries. And it wasn't fair, because he was sure if Vector would just stop looking at him like that, like he was a baby who might start crying any moment, then he was sure he would stop feeling that bubble in his throat and prickling in his eyes.
Espio and Charmy wait for Vector to come home from whatever adventures he is on
Yeah buddy we are still pantsing as I lay in bed before sleep so more of the same domestic stuff. Still not on Ao3. Maybe tomorrow? Maybe!
Espio served three portions of spiced rice - one sixth for Charmy, a third for himself, and the other half for Vector, which he covered with the pan lid before placing the pot in the sink to soak.
He had not yet mastered this recipe without the pan sticking, but it was one of Vector's favourites so he would keep trying on these scheduled evenings when he was… out… so he wouldn't see how much of a mess he made. He also placed the half a cooked chicken on the mounted plate, squished it back under the pan lid and went to eat.
Charmy was going through a phase where he would barely eat anything that wasn't sweet: that phase being his entire life. So Espio drizzled microwaved squeezy honey over his bowl and grimaced - another reason to make this when Vector was out: no argument about culinary authenticity where one half of the debate was 8 years old. They settled on the sofa and watched the next few episodes of an old Robot Feuds series, once again outraged at the spin-up controversy in the finale, and before they knew it they'd eaten it all, and it was time for Charmy to go to bed - Espio checked his texts.
"Is Vector on his way back?"
"Probably, I expect he has forgotten to message."
"Maybe he's out with a lady, and Vanilla will come round on their date and call him a Man-horse like that girl on Made in Chelsey?" Charmy babbled as they washed their plates up. Espio quietly put his plate in the fridge as they attacked the large pot with two scrubbing brushes.
"Don't use that word, it's almost a bad one. But yes, maybe, who knows."
They settled in front of the telly: there was none of the usual back and forth where each of them would suggest something they knew the others would hate play-fight over the remote, then settle on the same show about crime-fighters against alien delinquents.
"Hey! We get to watch what we want!"
"That's true. I'll watch whatever you want tonight, Charmy."
Charmy excitedly flicked through the channels, but stopped over their usual:
"Well, we can't watch NC-Inter Stellar without Vector."
"I am sure he would get over it if that's what you want."
"No, we can't. We'll have to record it."
So they set their video recorder up on the channel, then turned of the TV so they wouldn't be spoiled. Charmy's wings made an anxious humming sound as he scanned their collection of battered and incomplete board games.
"Maybe he's scoping out a new case and got into a fight with the alien commander," He considered as he pulled a load bearing jenga box out from their crowded bookshelf, causing all of the other boxes to clatter and rearrange.
"That would be exciting, let's hope he's not or we'd be missing it."
"That's true."
Sometime into their second subdued and distracted round, the landline phone rang. Espio dove over the table to reach it before Charmy, toppling the tower, but Charmy didn't even laugh at him - he hovered close to the speaker that Espio tried to cover from him.
"Chaotix Detective Agency: Espio speaking."
"Hi Espio, it's Jan from next door. Can one of you boys pop round to help me take my bins out?"
Charmy groaned, but went to put his high tops on, and was around at their elderly neighbours house before she'd hung up the phone. He had also finished taking her paper recycling and waste bags out before she hung up, because Espio still had the phone clamped between his shoulder and temple with his mobile in hand when Charmy kicked his shoes off. They pulled faces at each other.
"Yes, I did see that flier through the letterbox… No, I hadn't decided who I will vote for in the council election… well I would be happy to discuss that at length with you but it's Charmy's bath time… I know, we try our best…"
Charmy threw a dramatic and silent protest performance for Espio who watched him in faint amusement, before his face went stiff.
"No, he's out tonight… I'm sure he won't wake you, that was just the one occasion and it wasn't actually he who- yes of course I will tell him… and I will keep the lights low… That's kind of you, but I'm here with Charmy… Yes, I'll remember that, in an emergency we'll be sure to call… Have a good evening Jan."
He hung up and crossed his eyes for Charmy in annoyance.
"Maybe Vector's out finding a drunk seagull on the dock again."
"I hope not, he was not my favourite house guest." Espio sighed; "Bath time?"
"UGH! Why do I have to have a bath like every night?"
"Because if you don't Jan will complain we're polluting the neighbourhood."
"Her house smells of dust and cat though."
"She can't exactly wash the carpets at her age and with her back, Charmy. Are you offering to go and clean it for her, or will you go and get ready for a bath?"
Charmy scowled but stomped up to his room, but Espio knew he wasn't really annoyed. He snapped at the opportunity to try Vector's mobile, but of course it went straight to voicemail, so he left a message:
"Vector, presume you are still out. I'm going to put Charmy to bed in an hour, but I have some work to do, so… I'll be up. Call if you need- call if you need to, I'll have my phone on vibrate. Bye."
He cringed at himself but hung up before he could delete it as Charmy buzzed down the stairs.
"Espio?"
He was unusually quiet, holding his pyjamas and dressing gown. Espio hid his phone on instinct and scrambled for another possible Vector location.
"Yes?"
"Maybe we should go round and clean Jan's house. Cause she can't clean it, can she?"
Espio hummed, and stowed his phone in his house coat pocket as they headed to the bathroom.
"That's a nice thought. If she asks for any more help with the gutters, we'll offer then."
"Good idea. Don't want her to know her house is stinky."
"Quite so."
Charmy didn't need help in the bath, but if nobody sat in the room with him there was a non-zero chance he would forget to wash something, or get too excited pushing water around and create a tidal wave. Today, however, he sat deep in thought, idly moving around a boat that he was too old for really and barely popped a bubble.
"Are you alright, Charmy?"
"Yeah. All good."
Espio sat on the floor next to the door, scrolling on his phone that was running low on power. He needed to charge it, in case Vector called and he had to run out to get him. But he needed to keep it on him, too, so it was powering down slowly.
He clicked it closed and sighed. The quicker Charmy was in bed, the quicker he could get to worrying more actively instead of trying to act like he wasn't worried.
"Do you want me to wash your fur?"
The water splashed about in the tub, and Charmy shook his head fast.
"Nah, I got it. I'm done."
He wrapped himself in the hand towel that was his, and watched the water drain, boat beaching itself in the residual bubbles.
"What if Vector's found the drunk seagull, but they're out on his boat catching a whale?"
"Then Vector is probably leaning over the side of the boat hurling. He hated that fishing trip we took in the houseboat."
"True, a whale might run away from him."
"I would suggest it's more likely to swim away, but certainly."
Charmy rolled his eyes dramatically, and began brushing his teeth as Espio de-tangled his fur.
As he wriggled into his sheets, Charmy pulled out his old cassette player and headphones, digging a tape of his favourite audio book out from the bundle of blankets and duvets.
"Do you want me to sit with you for a bit?"
"Uhm… no. I got it." Charmy mumbled as he lay himself down, but he was staring at the ceiling without a hint of readiness to sleep.
"Alright, I'll be downstairs."
Espio put the nightlight on at the side of the door, and tired star stickers glowed in the low light. He moved slowly as he cleared a few scattered toys to the side of the room, and sure enough;
"Espio?"
He turned straight to the bookshelf, ready to be instructed, but no book request came.
"Will you tell me when Vector comes back?"
"I'll send him up, but he might wake you."
"I want him to. I don't… Can you come up if he calls you?"
Espio folded the curtain edges over each other to keep any light from the street from creeping in.
"I will come and tell you if I know anything substantial."
"Okay, thanks. Night."
Espio stretched his mouth out, and tried for a moment to think of anything else that might be of comfort.
"If you can't sleep, you can come down. You won't be in trouble. Good night."
Charmy nodded into his pillow as the door closed, and put one headphone in his ear to listen to the book, but it wasn't the right amount of interesting and relaxing for right now, so he took it out shortly after, and counted the stars on the ceiling. Vector had shown him on his phone what the constellations looked like, so he had tried to draw Orion's belt, the big dipper, and the bears on his ceiling, so he tried looking for any more shapes he could make in the stars, and eventually his eyes closed in fits and starts.
In his dream, he was back in their neighbours house, and he kept exploring all the rooms he had never been in which were strangely proportioned like they were a fun house. He had to find somewhere to put his blanket and pillow, but all the older lady's stuff was strange and kept tumbling out on him and the carpet was sticky. He kept saying to her that he didn't want to sleep here, he wanted to go home, but she just shook her head and told him that he couldn't go home on his own. He wanted to ask where Vector and Espio were, and he tried to force himself to, but somehow he wasn't able to make those words come out of his mouth, and she just kept shaking her head.
The door opened and he rolled over immediately, happy to trade this unpleasant sleeping with the broad shoulders he saw in the doorway:
"Vector?" he mumbled groggily;
"Sh, don't say it so loud, or all the ladies will be banging on the front door!"
Vector crept in to lean next to his low bed, and a crick in Charmy's neck he didn't know was there eased. He recounted how hectic his evening had gotten, with a robbery and a car chase that ended in a crash and a fire. Far more relaxing than the audio book about school children going on an adventure across the dales, Charmy started to doze despite pretending he wasn't, and he vaguely remembered Vector taking the player away to set on the bookshelf on his way out.
"Jan's house." Charmy murmured in his sleep.
"What's that, bug?"
"Jan's house… don't want to live there."
"Well that's good, since you live here."
Charmy grunted, then snored.
When Vector returned from Charmy's room, rice and chicken were microwave hot on the desk, as well as a large glass of lemonade and a hot water bottle in a towel.
"You're a lifesaver." He yawned, and slotted into the cosy spot made for him, muscle-pack straight on his shoulders and food shovelled ungracefully.
Espio couldn't sit still, even now. Vector glanced around and surveyed the fruits of his stressing: the room had been tidied and cleaned, videos organised, papers stacked, and a set of calming herbal tea brew sat unpoured with no sign of residual heat.
"Had a good evening?"
"Uneventful. How did it go?"
Vector blinked slowly, his head feeling heavier as he chewed.
"This is so good, thank you. Better than I make it."
"All the better for being reheated I'm sure. What's the situation this month?"
Vector pulled back from his dinner, and held a hand over his eyes.
"This month? Not great. But could be worse."
"If we'd have paid down some of that Hampton Bank loan, maybe-"
"No, wouldn't have put a dent in it. Fortis would have whacked us with another thirty percent either way, and then we wouldn't have been able to afford the car repairs."
"Thirty? Can that be right?"
"I tried, but you can't wriggle much with your tail in a trap."
"Well we know it. So, did you take anything?"
"Got some… prospects. A courier gig if we don't ask what's in the bag. A driver for a friend of a friend of the trader's. Oh and defence on a shipping route, just great. Least it's not a small boat."
"… are we really going to transport contraband?"
"No, I don't think so. We'll take everything else first anyway."
Espio nodded grimly.
"And the rest of the evening?"
"… I felt lucky..."
Espio grimaced.
"Straight from the loan brokers and onto the poker tables, in your infinite wisdom. Were you lucky, then?"
"He's got no faith; and I was, in a sense. I heard a rumour that someone had been cheating at the Circus Casino. Easy to play against when you know who's who, exposed him at the top table and got a compensation pay out.
Slight hiccough on my way to the bank when his friends found me and tried to settle their cash deficit. Not like they were any trouble, but I could have done without the hassle."
Espio leaned on the table and nodded grimly.
"Well done. I wish you'd have called."
"By the time the dust was settled, I was close enough to home it wasn't worth it."
"It would have been at least ten minutes."
"I guess. I was hoping you'd gone to sleep."
Espio's withering glance could have spoiled milk, but Vector laughed:
"But hey, if you wanna wait up for me with your rollers in and dinner ready, I'm not complaining."
"I wish you'd let me come with you to deal with these vicious extortionists. I could help. We could expose their exploitation for everyone to see if you'd just-"
"And there's why you don't come with. It's all got it's time, we'll get our karma back when we're ready. But for now, if we kick up a fuss we're the ones who won't have a house."
"Doing the right thing should come ahead of our property."
"Sure. But someday when Charmy's a bit bigger, we can shake off the leeches. Let it go, tonight, Espio - I'm tired."
Espio couldn't look at him, but took his empty plate from under his nose, and placed a doughnut in a box with an ultra reduced sticker over the bar code.
Laying in the Gutter, Staring at the Stars (1k) on Ao3
Gen Gen Slice of Life silly
@team-chaotix-week day 5: stargazing (loosely! in the metaphorical sense!)
Vector and Espio make plans to make it big
Finally got the rest of them on Ao3! These puppies are going to be dead ignored since they're already posted, so if you'd be a dear and click their links my ego might recover (kidding!)
A loud crash sounded from the printer station, before a primal groan.
"Being careful?" Vector called from his desk without getting or looking up.
"The - blinkin' - thingy tray fell on me!" Charmy shouted back, before he flapped across the Office to the bathroom, leaving a trail of CYMK ink dripping behind him. Espio materialised where he had been surveying maps to grab the mop; he had just barely picked up the worst of it when Charmy came back out now splattered with diluted and drippier ink than before.
"How do you get ink stains out of… everything?"
"Shower, lots of soap, leave clothes in the tub."
"Then what?"
"Then Espio will do it for you."
Espio grumbled, but chivvied Charmy back to the bathroom with his mop before they heard the water running.
"When we're on the up, perhaps we could spring for a better printer?" Espio sighed.
"Or a better office assistant." Vector hummed in agreement."
"It's not like that's his job, Vector."
"It's not like it's any of ours, but missing posters don't make themselves, and it's way more expensive to get them done professionally."
"You're right, of course: when we're on the up, we'll go to one of those instead of doing this ourselves." He conceded, dumping the water and grabbing cleaner for a dark spot.
"Having said that, when we're on the up I mean-" Vector began, and Espio caught his eye. They all liked this game;
"Go on."
"Well, it wouldn't hurt to have somebody to run to the print shop for us, would it? Saves us time for the real detective work."
"Quite so. And they can bring back lunch."
"They can bring back lunch, now we're talking. And, since we'd be on the up-and-up,"
"Sushi, ideally, for me."
"I was thinking steak, but yeah that works. And then obviously we'd be nearer the nice restaurants anyway."
"Of course; we would be on the up-and-up."
"And so we might as well get the gofer a nice car so they can gofe quicker."
"I think that term is no longer p-c; considered demeaning by the Rodent and Small Mammals Elevation Group."
"I'm on the up-and-up-and-up. I can pay them a big donation in apologies for my outdated language."
"Oh naturally, we'd be philanthropists." Espio declared as he squeezed the cloth out.
"The philanthropic-est. Our Penthouse office would be open to all the cases nobody could afford to get help for."
"But we'd need to charge some people. To keep going up-and-up-and-up, naturally."
"We could charge based on means?"
"Like a tax? Paid annually by all to assure everyone can have our excellent service free at the point of need?"
"Yeah?"
"So we'd be like the police?"
"No! Because we'd be actually solving crimes, not just doing the bare minimum to shove people out the door."
"Oh yes, of course. So we're a council owned-"
"No, no, philanthropic cause-"
"Right, privately run, ultra wealthy detectives agency that everyone pays into to solve their crimes. How are we meeting that demand?"
"You're forgetting something, Espio:"
"Oh then please, enlighten me."
"We're on the up-and-up-and-up-and-up."
Espio gasped, like Vector had just solved string theory.
"Of course, that explains everything. How does that solve anything?"
"Well we have more employees. More Gophers - the rodent, because of all our Small Mammal-Inclusive hiring strategies obviously - to work for us and solve the cases."
"Brilliant. But how will all those detectives be organised?"
"Well, we obviously know better than anyone what it takes to be a detective."
"Certainly." Espio gestured to himself on hands and knees with ink bleeding into his gloves.
"So we train up some, then promote them and they train the rest, and we just sort of… eh y'know. Share-hold."
"Do nothing and profit?"
"Yeah. Philanthropically. Sitting around next to a pool and buying nice shoes and such."
"Philanthropy and profit are such a good pairing."
"They're best of buds, like us."
They smiled to themselves and their respective messes; Vector flicked through the letters pertaining to a missing young man, discarding the credit card bill, as Espio gave up on the floor and moved a tatty old rug to cover the spot.
"Vector, I foresee a problem:"
"Go ahead, I'm sure it's nothing that being on the up-and-up-and-so-on can't solve."
"That sounds completely boring."
Vector made a thoughtful noise, and pretended to consider it.
"Well, y'see Espio, when we get beyond the up-and-up, when we're the uppest up,"
"When, naturally,"
"That's when we start gambling and risk taking and making awful management decisions."
"Yeah, yeah; then we get into scandals, make some terrible business decisions, Charmy gets arrested and we pay-"
"For what?"
"Eh, details aren't important, probably being annoying to law enforcement, point is we bail him out, and-"
"How our morals have curdled: Prodigal detective flouts the law!"
"Oh yeah, the papers will sound just like that. And so we have to sell the penthouse and let go of all the staff, then we can't afford a normal office, and eventually we strip back down to a skeleton crew-"
"And end up back here?"
"Yep, right back here."
"Well that all sounds excellent. I can't to get the ball rolling on our grand future." Espio hummed, parking the mop, bucket and cloth back in the cupboard. He poured them both a water from the unfiltered tap into mugs they'd gotten free at a car boot sale.
"To the good life." He said drily as he plonked it on Vector's desk, cheersing his own cup before Vector downed it.
Charmy stomped out the shower in a towel, his wings too dripping wet to fly.
"Water's all cold." He whined, shaking his fur at Vector and Espio on his way to sit by their fridge - it was so old and inefficient, it chucked out heat behind it like a grubby hairdryer.
"We really should get a working printer though, Vector." Espio hummed as he went through to the bathroom to wash Charmy's clothes.
"For sure we will, that's the first step of being on the up."
A short series of letters sent between Mighty and Vector while Mighty and Ray are on their World Adventure, about the woes of being a guardian.
Day 4 of @team-chaotix-week !
And the end of the stuff that I think is polished enough to post (low a bar as that is!) So we might get crappy doodles if we're lucky for the rest of the week, but probably not crappy fics!
