Chapter Text
It all started, as it usually did, with a case that Todd understood either very little of, or absolutely nothing about.
“We can’t just…road trip down to California on a whim.” Todd cried in exasperation, flitting a somewhat pleading gaze between Dirk and Farah and hoping that at least one of them would see the sense in his argument.
As luck would have it, neither of them did--not that Todd was too entirely surprised. It seemed to be the way things went, most days, within their small agency.
“Why not?” Farah shrugged and glanced in Dirk’s direction, seeming to gain a little confidence in her argument at Dirk’s eager nod of affirmation. “We’ve taken the SUV on plenty of other cases. What’s different about California?”
Todd tried not to wince. “California is…is California.” He offered lamely, attempting valiantly to avoid to deadpan stares from both Farah and Dirk now. “It’s--It’s far.”
“Well I suppose California is somewhat far.” Dirk agreed, and pursed his lips as if actually considering the argument (an unlikely chance). “But we’ve travelled as far as Canada before now. California really isn’t too far. And think of the case, Todd!”
“I am.” Todd answered morosely. If he was being honest, the prospect of another murder case wasn’t exactly exhilarating, at this point. He’d seen enough murder cases to fill two lifetimes (practically had since the Patrick Spring case, though none following had proven themselves to be quite as horrifically violent), and wasn’t necessarily gung-ho about becoming a key witness in any more.
“They asked for us, specifically.” Farah cut in, “I’d honestly feel a little bad about leaving them hanging.”
“Same.” Dirk agreed, looking a little too pleased with himself, if Todd were being honest.
Todd bit back a groan. “Can’t we just… y’know.” he made a vague hand gesture, only to be faced with both Dirk and Farah’s pointedly raised brows in response. “Fly?” he finally finished, a little lamely, his shoulders hunching inadvertently toward his ears at the continued deadpan expressions he was faced with.
“You know we can’t afford three plane tickets, Todd.” Dirk scoffed, as if the answer were obvious. “We could hardly afford one.”
Todd opened his mouth to argue before pausing and furrowing his brow, pegging a somewhat desperate look on Farah, when it seemed that Dirk wasn't going to budge.
“Oh no.” Farah shook her head sternly. “I’m not paying for all three plane tickets. We can drive.”
“It’s settled, then!” Dirk cried before Todd could reply, falling haphazardly to perch on the agency sofa next in the small vacant space beside him.
(Todd, for his part, did his best not to shift obviously away, though he felt as if Dirk noticed the initial movement, anyway).
“We’ll leave first thing in the morning!” Dirk finished, brightly, casting one last curious gaze in Todd's direction from the corner of his bright eyes before turning to shoot Farah a triumphant grin.
“We’re gonna need a little longer than that to prepare, Dirk.” Farah warned.
“Ah, right.” Dirk turned and gave Todd the same, bright smile. “We’ll leave first thing Friday morning!”
---
“Oh quit being such a--a spoilsport, Todd!”
Todd blinked incredulously, and ducked to narrowly avoid being struck in the head by Dirk as he tossed a tightly stuffed duffle bag into the back of the SUV. “Being the voice of reason makes me a spoilsport?” he finally replied.
“No, Farah is the voice of reason.” Dirk returned easily. “You’re the spoilsport.”
“Right.” Todd muttered distractedly, reaching up on tiptoes to close the back of the car. “Thanks for the clarification.” He rounded the side of the vehicle, only to be hastily intercepted by Dirk, who let himself quickly into the passenger seat before turning and giving Todd a triumphant grin. “Whatever.” Todd murmured, and made no effort to hide his disgust as he climbed into the back, instead.
“Everyone ready?” Farah inquired from the driver’s seat, glancing at Todd in the rearviewmirror.
“It’s going to be an adventure, Todd!” Dirk cried, rather than answer her inquiry. “When was the last time you had an adventure?”
“Last month.” Todd replied, deadpan, though he was reluctant to admit that that particular adventure had been their last case, which was what had brought them here in the first place; their schedule unusually clear and them desperate enough to drive as far as California for a new case, apparently.
“Well sure, that was a sort of adventure.” Dirk agreed with a shrug. “But it’s been so long! Besides, that one had hardly any romance.”
“Romance?” Todd raised a brow, doing his best to ignore the sinking of his gut as Farah pulled away from the curb and toward the freeway. “What do you mean, romance?”
“There’s going to be a wedding!” Dirk cried, looking far too pleased with himself for his own good, as if he himself had been the one entirely behind the idea of the wedding in the first place.
“What--” Todd glanced at Farah in confusion. “What do you mean?” he repeated.
“Well, most of the murders have taken place at somewhat…large public events.” Farah explained, much to Todd’s gratitude. “The wedding is our best bet for where the next one is going to happen.”
“You think there’s going to be a murder at a wedding?” Todd repeated incredulously. “How do you figure that?”
“Well, as luck would have it, the second murder took place at the first victim’s funeral!” Dirk explained.
“As luck would have it.” Todd raised a brow.
“Yes!” Dirk cried gleefully, pointedly ignoring Todd’s expression. “A family member of the first and his son, as a matter of fact--the second victim’s funeral was scheduled for last week!”
“And what happened?”
“It went off without a hitch.” Dirk made a face. “A bit peculiar, really. I thought that the funerals were the pattern. And there’s still a whole other family member left!”
Todd nodded, making a serious effort to ignore Dirk’s apparent enthusiasm over the entire, somewhat violent fiasco. “And they?”
“She,” Dirk corrected offhandedly, “is our benefactor.”
“She hired us?” Todd furrowed his brow in confusion. “To do what? Investigate? The other two were already murdered.”
“True.” Dirk agreed. “But--”
“She caught onto our exact pattern of thought.” Farah interrupted. “She connected that she must be the next victim, being the only remaining family member to her father, the first victim, and realized that she had to do something.”
“And do it fast.” Dirk added.
“Wait so,” Todd raised his hands placatingly, willing his still sluggish mind (he hadn’t had nearly as much coffee that morning as he had apparently needed) to catch up to the rapidity of the conversation. “The woman who hired us is the daughter of the original victim.”
“Right.” Farah and Dirk answered simultaneously.
“And the sister of the second?”
“Correct.” Dirk confirmed. “And therefore the only remaining member of the Morgan family, at all.”
“So what did the original guy do to piss these people off?” Todd asked. “Was he like, a millionaire or…”
“Quite the opposite, in fact.” Dirk provided. “While quite wealthy at one point, Tracy Morgan was actually close to going bankrupt, a significant portion of the last of his funds having gone toward the upcoming wedding of his daughter.”
“So is he like…” Todd frowned. “Part of the mafia or something?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Todd.” Dirk chastised. “That’s an outdated concept, at best.”
“I’m just trying to keep up.” Todd snapped irritably. “As far as I’m aware, it seems the two of you have left me out of quite a bit, recently.”
Farah and Dirk both seemed to wince. “We didn’t want to…overwhelm you.” Farah finally piped up, breaking the tense silence that had followed the words.
“Right, because the agency has been so busy.” Todd replied, somewhat waspishly.
If he was being honest, he’d admit that Farah and Dirk’s combined efforts of taking on a majority of the duties within the Detective Agency had, for the most part, honestly been due to the increasing frequency of his own personal…setbacks--more specifically, the sudden and disheartening increase in his pararibulitis attacks within the last six months. A turn of circumstances that had been entirely unexpected, and more than a little disheartening.
Were he a more patient man, he’d outwardly admit his gratitude to the both of them for taking his own personal health into consideration by attempting to tackle things on their own.
He was not feeling particularly honest, nor patient, in that particular moment, however, and simply frowned morosely.
There was a long, pregnant pause, and Dirk glanced out the passenger side window for a good half a minute before turning again and meeting Todd’s steely gaze. “He’s not a millionaire.” He offered, finally. “And he’s not with the mafia. But, according to some sources and depending on who you choose to believe, he wasn’t unfamiliar with some…backhanded practices.”
Todd’s frown deepened. “Meaning?”
“He’s been known for pursuing some…underhanded means of accumulating a fortune of his own.” Farah provided.
“Not like Patrick Spring?” Todd hazarded, blinking slightly.
“Not like Patrick.” Farah confirmed stonily.
“Right.” Todd replied, shaking his head minutely and furrowing his brow. “Okay. So we’re…”
“We’re going to stop the murder of his one remaining family member.” Dirk cut in. “Save his daughter, and--”
“And find ourselves some income.” Farah interrupted, her tone brooking no room for argument.
“Desperately needed, truthfully.” Dirk added.
“I--I know what the books look like, Dirk.” Todd griped, aware that he was continuing to be a total and utter asshole, yet unable to stop the words from escaping, anyway. He tensed a bit as Dirk’s expression flickered, briefly, and shifted so that he was facing the window, and was therefore able study the scenery flying by as Farah pulled onto I5.
“Then you’ll know why we need to go all the way to California for a case!” Dirk chirped, his tone lilting somewhat mockingly, before seeming to sober a bit. “Todd…” He dropped his voice to a low murmur. “I know you don’t like travelling that much. But look! Farah’s driving, not me! Everything should be fine! So…cheer up!” When Todd refused to reply, and maintained his stony gaze out the window, Dirk added, “Please? You love cases.”
“Let’s just,” Todd lolled his head so he could meet Dirk’s pleading gaze from the corner of his eye. “Let’s be quiet for now. Please?”
Dirk paused and deflated almost comically, forcing a small smile and nodding half-heartedly before he turned to face forward again.
Todd heaved a pained exhale, knowing full well that he was being unreasonable, yet feeling no better about the entire situation for it. If he was being honest, he would own up to the fact that the recent developments (lack of business included) within the agency had been entirely discouraging, and had had a profound effect on his mood in the past couple of weeks.
If he was being honest, Todd would admit that he was reacting to the prospect of a new case with an unnecessary amount of reluctance. He’d admit that his lack of enthusiasm could, quite possibly, be chalked up to his own (discarded and firmly ignored, up until this point) irritation at having been left out of so many going-ons--leading up to the present moment.
(He’d admit that the look on Dirk’s face directly following his own brusque dismissal had made his gut twist in a mixture of guilt and an unnamable emotion that he didn’t want to consider too closely, just yet.)
However, Todd wasn’t feeling particularly truthful at this point in time, and simply shifted again so that he was curled in the very corner of the backseat, his gaze trained firmly on the landscape outside the window as he made a resolute effort to ignore the furtive and pointed looks Farah continued to shoot him from the rearviewmirror.
---
“Todd…”
“I don’t walk to talk right now, Dirk.”
Nearly four and a half hours down the freeway, and Dirk was attempting the first bit of conversation directed specifically toward Todd since they’d started off on their venture.
He’d spent (more than) enough time chatting with Farah, commenting on the passing scenery, and eagerly elaborating on the details of their upcoming case.
He had not, however, spent more than the most minimal effort necessary toward attempting a conversation with Todd singularly, up until this point. And, quite honestly, Todd felt more than a little guilty over this fact--the feeling growing like an uncomfortable knot in his chest and stomach the more time he took to consider it.
“I know.” Dirk replied, sounding a little disappointed. “But I just--”
“Seriously.” Todd interrupted, ignoring the feeling of his face flushing for what felt like the fiftieth time in the past half hour and turning more forcefully so that he was sat facing the passing landscape. “Please.”
Dirk made a face. “Just because you don’t want to talk--”
“That’s not it.” Todd insisted, doing his damndest to avoid focussing on the slow roiling of his gut that had been building up over the past couple of hours, and the sickening ache that had been consistently building at his temples.
“Todd?” Farah inquired, suddenly, and Todd turned his head minutely to meet her gaze from the mirror. “Are you…okay? You’re pale.”
Todd swallowed thickly, the air in the SUV becoming suddenly stuffy and overheated. “I’m…” He swallowed again, and turned to attempt to roll down his window, which turned out to be locked (typical Farah, he thought, distantly). “Roll down the window.” He demanded sharply, attempting to keep his suddenly shallow and desperate breaths under control.
Farah furrowed her brow. “What--”
“Please!” Todd cried, turning and facing the window (which was opening far more slowly than he would have appreciated) and quickly sticking his head out quickly before lurching forward to violently retch the contents of his stomach out onto the side of the road.
“Oh, god.” Farah murmured, the SUV lurching as she pulled quickly onto the shoulder of the highway.
“Todd!” Dirk cried, turning sharply in his seat to study his companion, who was still leaning out the side window and vomiting into the road. “Are you…alright?”
Todd retched again, gulping air greedily in between gasps. “Do I lookalright?” he finally managed, turning to shoot Dirk a dark glare.
Dirk frowned, seemingly unperturbed. “Physically? Certainly not. You’ve gone all…Pasty.”
“We don’t reach our first stop for another couple of hours.” Farah murmured apologetically in Todd’s direction, her tone kept deliberately soft and soothing.
Todd paused a moment, tentatively lowering himself back into his seat and glancing between Dirk and Farah’s matching concerned expressions from the front seats before quickly lifting himself up and sticking his head out the window to dry-heave a bit more.
“Do you need to stop before that? There’s a rest stop in about a mile.” Farah continued, grimacing slightly.
“Please.” Todd gasped, gulping desperately and slowly leaning back into his seat, allowing his head to rest, exhausted, against the cool glass of the cracked window.
“Okay.” Farah replied without missing a beat, turning and giving him another sympathetic glance before pulling back onto the road. “We’ll be there in about five minutes. Just--hang on until then, okay?” When Todd didn’t reply, opting instead to let his eyes slide shut as the breeze from the open window cooled the heated skin of his face, Farah prodded, “Okay?”
“Okay,” He murmured, still refusing to open his eyes.
The rest of the trip was spent in silence; Dirk’s lack of input more tangible than anyone else’s in the car. (And somehow, despite everything, Todd still managed to feel guilty about this fact specifically.)