Archive of Our Own

Steve awoke in his plush purple bed as the sun began to creep over the horizon and cast its gentle rays through the nearby window, bringing with it a glowing warmth that signaled morning time. He sat up in bed and let out a small yawn, peering over to his left to see Blue awaken in her bed, as well. She gave a cheerful woof and rose to her feet, jumping onto the bed to formally greet him as she always did.

“Good morning, Blue!” Steve said with a smile, and found himself answered with another enthusiastic bark. She was happy as ever, as was he.

“Well, it looks like it’ll be another beautiful, sunny day today. Let’s go get some breakfast, and then we can play outside,” he suggested.

“Bow ba-bow bow bow ba-bow!”

With those hearty woofs of approval, Blue hopped down from the bed and began her joyful bounce towards the kitchen. Steve was pleased to see how eager she was for breakfast, as yesterday they’d worked with Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper to make a delicious strawberry jam with fruit picked from their garden. It would be a perfect accompaniment to their usual toast and muffins.

Standing from his bed, Steve quickly changed into his favorite green-striped shirt and khaki pants and began towards the kitchen, as well. He said hi to Turquoise as he passed her aquarium, glad to see her happily nibbling at the fresh vegetables they’d chopped up for her yesterday. Their garden was quite the success so far this summer, yielding even more fruits and veggies than they’d gathered last year, including some new hybrids. He had Slippery Soap to thank for that, as Slippery had acquired some new gardening tools and taken the time to learn about best practices over the past several weeks. It was really quite kind of him.

As Steve neared the kitchen, an unfamiliar set of sounds reached his ears - the wails of a distraught woman, followed by scrambling and an eventual thud.

“That’s strange,” Steve observed as he paused in his step. “It sounds like someone in the kitchen is upset about something. Let’s go find out what’s happening.”

Stepping into the kitchen, a horrific scene lay before him on the counter. Mr. Salt was rolled onto his back, his eyes squeezed shut as he groaned in pain, his top unscrewed and now lying several inches away. And with his top having been removed, his contents had spilled everywhere - patches of salt were scattered across the countertops, the floor, the nearby sink. He’d easily lost at least half of his salt, if not more. It was as though he’d become an empty shell, with his groans fading by the second.

Mrs. Pepper sat at his side, holding his hand as she tried to contain her cries. “Please, please hold on, my dear. The ambulance is almost here,” she wept. Her face was contorted to one of agony as she gazed upon her dying husband. Her hands shook, and there was a small amount of pepper that dotted the counter around her, surely a result of her current distraught state.

Only a few seconds later, a small red ambulance rolled across the counter and screeched to a halt just before Mr. Salt. Out hopped one garlic and one ginger paramedic, who immediately rushed to Mr. Salt’s aid, returning his top and as much salt as they could quickly gather before wrapping him tightly in numerous bandages and carefully loading him into the back of the ambulance. They questioned Mrs. Pepper for just a second, and afterwards allowed her and Paprika, who’d been sitting in the cabinet amidst the confusion, into the front of the ambulance to be transported to the hospital alongside him. And with that, the ambulance sped off even faster than it had arrived, with one dying salt shaker and his wife and child cradled inside.

Steve scratched his head as he processed what had just occurred before his eyes. Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper never missed a beat when it came to helping with breakfast, and yet today… this happened. But what exactly had happened to Mr. Salt? Did he fall from their home in the cabinet? That was not something that was commonplace in their household, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

Just as he was about to take a closer look at the scene, Blue piped up with an inquisitive woof.

“What is it, Blue?” Steve asked her, a hand at his hip in his befuddlement.

“Bow… Ba-bow bow bow…”

“What’s that, Blue?”

“Ba-bow bow bow bow.”

“You don’t think Mr. Salt’s injuries were an accident?”

“Bow bow ba-bow bow bow ba-bow…”

“You mean, you think someone did that to Mr. Salt on purpose?”

“Ba-bow bow bow ba-bow.”

“So that means… that means that somebody tried to murder Mr. Salt?”

“Ba-bow bow ba-bow bow.”

“Are you sure about that, Blue?”

“Bow ba-bow bow bow bow!”

“You… you’re saying that you saw what happened to Mr. Salt?”

“Ba-bow bow bow ba-bow BOW BOW BA-BOW!”

“But Blue… Why would…” Steve was beyond confused now. He was utterly bewildered at the notion of someone trying to kill such a beloved member of their household. Who would do such a thing? And why?

Steve’s mind grew heavy with the declarations that Blue had just made. Surely there couldn’t have been an attempted murder in their household - not in a place of such peace and contentment. Not in a place where everyone respected one another, where the most notorious argument was over the vegetables that would be selected for snacktime. But just as Steve began to further ponder what he’d witnessed here, the doorbell sounded off.

“Blue? Did you invite Magenta over today?” he asked her, uncertain of who else would be arriving at this hour.

“Bow bow ba-bow bow bow.”

“You didn’t? Well, I guess let’s see who’s at the door, then.”

With Blue still at his side, Steve left behind the pending crime scene in the kitchen and approached the front door. Gripping the doorknob, he opened the door, only to be greeted by another man. It wasn’t someone he recognized, however - a taller man, slim and quite formally dressed, his darker hair neatly parted and combed back.

“Hi there,” Steve greeted him. “My name’s Steve. What’s yours?”

“Hello, my name is Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife,” the man spoke back, giving a small nod with his words.

“Connor? Well, it’s great to meet you. Come on in,” Steve offered him.

Connor held a face of perplexity, but stepped through the doorway and into the house nevertheless. Steve closed the door behind him and held a warm smile before his new visitor.

“I must say, I did not expect this welcome, Steve,” Connor declared. “Nor did I expect this type of… home,” he added as he gazed about the room, seemingly taking in the colorful carpet and wallpaper, his eyes pausing to examine the youthful furniture and decor.

“Oh? Well, I love our home. It’s perfect for me and Blue,” Steve said, giving a nod to Blue as she trotted over to stand at his side.

“Blue?” Connor questioned, turning his head to look for the person in question.

“Yeah, Blue. You know, my puppy,” Steve answered, pointing down at her.

Connor peered down at her, staring for several seconds as Blue gave a friendly couple of barks in response.

“I… see…” Connor affirmed as Blue remained before him. “Well, anyway, as I said, I was sent here by Cyberlife due to an attempted murder that was reported to have occurred under this roof. Is it true that this occurred here, Steve?”

Steve’s beaming expression fell with those words to a half frown. “Yeah, I guess that did happen here this morning.”

“Excellent. That is, your confirmation, not the crime itself, of course,” Connor corrected himself. “Now, would you be able to give me the details of the events leading up to that attempted murder, Steve?”

Steve nodded. “I can definitely try. I didn’t witness the crime itself since it only happened as I was walking over to the kitchen, but I can describe what I heard.”

“Alright, let’s begin there,” Connor agreed.

And so Steve told Connor everything he could recall about this morning’s horrific events - Mrs. Pepper’s wails, the thudding sound, the scattered salt in the aftermath. They slowly walked back to the kitchen as Steve shared this information, with Connor’s face growing increasingly riddled with confusion as they continued together.

Finally, Steve finished relaying his story as they reached the kitchen. “And here’s where it all took place. There’s the scattered salt, and here’s the cabinet where Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper live.”

Connor didn’t pay any mind to those last details, however, for he seemed to have something else on his mind.

“Steve…” he began. “…Are you aware that this a serious criminal investigation?”

“Of course,” Steve said. “I want to find out what happened here, after all.”

“Right, and we want that as well. So with that being the case, why are you telling me about your salt shaker?”

Steve gave a small chuckle. “Well, because Mr. Salt was the victim here. It would only make sense to give you an important detail like that.”

“But… Mr. Salt is not a person,” Connor said.

“Well, of course he’s not. He’s a salt shaker. And a very friendly one, at that,” Steve reminded him. It seemed that Connor hadn’t fully understood the entirety of his story.

“He’s… a salt shaker…”

“Yes, he certainly is. And speaking of that - Blue, did you have any more details that I may have missed that would help us figure out what happened to Mr. Salt? We should tell Connor everything we can about this.”

“Bow ba-bow bow bow ba-bow!”

“You do? Well that’s great!”

“Are you talking to your dog?”

“What other details do you have that you think could help us solve the case, Blue?” Steve interrupted Connor.

“Bow ba-bow ba-bow bow bow.”

“Really, Blue?”

“Bow bow ba-bow bow bow.”

“So you know who actually tried to kill Mr. Salt?”

“Ba-bow bow bow ba-bow bow bow!”

“Well that’s great news, Blue! Who was it?”

As soon as those words left his lips, Blue excitedly spun in a circle and leapt forward to stamp her pawprint onto the wall before all of them.

“Wow, that’s a great idea, Blue! We’ll play Blue’s Clues to figure out who tried to murder Mr. Salt! I love Blue’s Clues!” Steve held his hands to his heart in unison with those words.

“Excuse me, but I…”

“We are gonna play Blue’s Clues, ‘cause it’s a really great game! Yeah!” Steve sang, dancing about the kitchen as joy began to seep into his veins. This was exactly what they needed for today. Blue’s Clues would help solve this mystery, and it would surely cheer up anyone in the household who may’ve heard about the attempted murder. Blue always knew exactly when they needed to play this game.

“Excuse me, Steve, but what is this ‘Blue’s Clues’ that you just sang about?” Connor inquired.

“Oh, you’re gonna love Blue’s Clues. It’s a game I play with my puppy where she leaves her pawprint on three different items to mark them as clues. We have to find all three of those things, then put them together to help solve whatever question we’re trying to answer!”

“So you’re saying that… your puppy knows who tried to kill Mr. Salt?”

“That’s right. She must’ve gotten to the kitchen before me this morning and witnessed whatever happened there.”

“I… How does…” Connor seemed to struggle to find his words, his mouth opening and closing several times as if there were no words he could string together to adequately express his current thoughts.

“Well, like I said, Blue must’ve been a witness to the crime. Which is great, because I’m not sure if there were any other witnesses,” Steve recalled.

“So your puppy… Blue knows who the culprit is in this case. If that’s true, then why doesn’t she just tell us who it is?”

“It wouldn’t be a fun game if that were the case!” Steve exclaimed. “Besides, we didn’t get to play Blue’s Clues yesterday since we spent so much time in the garden with Shovel and Pail, so we really should play today.”

“Shovel and Pail?” Connor echoed, his words almost flat as if he’d resigned himself to what was playing out before him.

“Yeah, they’re another couple friends of ours, and they live here, too,” Steve explained.

The nod that Connor gave was one of acceptance, or perhaps defeat at this point.

“Anyway, you know what we need to play Blue’s Clues? Our handy dandy… notebook! Come on!” Steve proudly spoke those words and began his stride over to Sidetable Drawer.

“Wait, notebook? Where are you going?” Connor called out. Steve didn’t pause, though, and so Connor hurried after him.

“Hi, Sidetable!” Steve greeted her as he crouched down at her side.

“Hi, Steve! I heard there was a big mystery for Blue’s Clues today,” she said.

“That’s right, Sidetable. We’re playing Blue’s Clues to figure out who tried to murder Mr. Salt!”

“Wow, that’s exciting! Well, here’s your notebook, Steve!” She kindly popped her drawer open as she always did, and Steve lifted his notebook from inside, glad to have it in his hands again.

“Thanks, Sidetable!” he said, then stood once more to see Connor before him, staring downward.

“Oh, that’s our friend, Sidetable Drawer. I could introduce you to her, if you’d like,” Steve suggested to him.

“Your drawer… it just spoke to you.”

“Sidetable is pretty friendly. I’m sure she’d like to meet someone new,” Steve assured him.

“Did you receive this ‘side table’ from Cyberlife, as well? Did they send her here prior to my arrival?” Connor asked.

“I’m not sure who Cyberlife is, but Sidetable has always lived here with us, for as long as I can remember,” Steve answered him honestly.

“I see…” Connor pondered for a moment. “That must be one of the earlier android prototypes, then. It seems to have remained in remarkably good condition over the years. I commend you for the care and maintenance you must regularly provide.”

“Well, we love Sidetable here. She’s always been so reliable, especially with our notebook.”

“What is this notebook, now?”

Steve’s face lit up as his feet began to jostle across the floor beneath him with a will of their own, his favorite song now blaring about the room.

“We’ve gotta find a pawprint - that’s our first clue! We put it in our notebook, and now what do we do?”

“What do we-”

“Blue’s Clues, Blue’s Clues!”

“Where is this music coming from?”

“We’ve gotta find another pawprint - that’s our second clue! We put it in our notebook ‘cause they’re whose clues? Blue’s Clues!”

“Blue’s… Clues…” Connor muttered.

“We’ve gotta find the last pawprint - that’s the third clue! We put it in our notebook ‘cause they’re Blue’s Clues, Blue’s Clues!”

“Blue’s Clues…”

“Well, we sit down in our Thinking Chair and think… think… thiiiink…”

“Thinking chair?”

“‘Cause when we use our minds and take a step at a time, we can do anything… that we wanna do!” Steve slid forward to showcase the best set of jazz hands that he could, for both his sake and Connor’s. He would surely appreciate this song and the motivation it provided.

As silence fell, Connor appeared to be both fascinated and puzzled by the events he’d witnessed in this household thus far.

“Are you ready to help me look for clues now?” Steve asked him, quite eager to begin the search himself.

“Ah, now searching for clues is something I can fully support,” Connor replied, his ambition somewhat returning to his voice.

“Great! Just remember - Blue’s pawprints will be on the clues - Blue’s Clues.”

“Pawprints, now? So you’re saying that the only clues we can utilize in our investigation are ones that your puppy has stamped with her feet?”

“That’s right. That’s how we play Blue’s Clues, after all.”

“But surely there’s a plethora of additional clues lying about your kitchen. It would be foolish to not collect those to further narrow the perpetrator here.”

“I think we’ll be alright. Blue knows who the culprit is, so I’m sure the clues she leaves will let us piece everything together in the end,” Steve insisted.

“I… very well, then. We may start by searching for the clues that Blue has left behind, and then proceed from there.”

“That sounds good! Now, let’s get going.” But before taking another step, Steve looked to his left, and then to his right. “Did you happen to see which way Blue went?”

Without a second’s hesitation, Connor piped up. “She went that way,” he informed Steve, gesturing towards the kitchen.

“Great! Let’s go then.” And with that, Steve began his bouncing stroll over to the kitchen, while Connor followed at his side at a slowed pace and observed his movements along the way.

“Steve, has an event of this significance occurred in this household in the past?” Connor eventually inquired.

Thinking on the question, Steve gave a half nod. “Several months ago, there was an incident where Green Puppy visited our house, and while they were playing she repeatedly toppled the block tower that Blue constructed. It was a pretty serious situation.”

“You’re saying another puppy was playing with Blue’s toys?”

“Yeah. It was a difficult day for Blue, but we got through it by giving Green Puppy some of her own blocks to knock down. So it all worked out!” Steve was sorrowful for an instant as he recalled the pain Blue must’ve experienced in seeing her block tower crumble to the ground again and again. He had to remind himself that it would never happen again.

Connor didn’t seem to have a response for this, however, so the two of them continued to the kitchen in silence.

Upon reaching the set of counters where they’d first discovered the gravely injured Mr. Salt, Steve noticed that something there had changed.

“It looks like somebody cleaned up after Mr. Salt was taken away in the ambulance. There’s no salt on the counter anymore.”

“So you mean that after Mr. Salt was attacked, there was salt on the counter here?” Connor attempted to clarify.

“That’s right. His top came off, and so a lot of his own salt spilled out. It was pretty obvious since there was so much of it here, but I don’t really see it anymore.” Well, whoever cleaned it up did something very thoughtful for them. It must’ve been tough for them to do so in the wake of such a gruesome scene, though.

At these words, Connor ran a finger across a wide stretch of the countertop, then brought that finger to his lips and gave it a lick.

“I do detect faint traces of sodium from this area. So at the very least, that does confirm that salt was recently spilled upon this surface.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. And thankfully, someone cleaned up pretty much everything here, so there’s no mess for us now!”

“Somebody cleaned up the scene of the crime?”

“Yep! We’ll have to find out who so we can thank them later,” Steve declared. Maybe he and Blue could decorate a card together to give to whoever did this as a token of appreciation.

“If someone returned to the scene of this crime and performed a full cleanup, then it sounds like they were trying to remove any remaining evidence. That means whoever did this cleaning is likely the culprit, or at least an accomplice to them,” Connor explained.

“Hm, interesting… Well, we’ll just have to keep playing Blue’s Clues to figure out who may’ve done that,” Steve maintained, and he resumed his walk through the kitchen. Would Blue leave any clues around here? It would make sense considering where the crime took place, but then again, she did have a tendency to scatter her clues.

Connor paused in seeming disbelief at what he’d just heard, and resumed following behind Steve as he was able to logically reorganize his thoughts once more.

Just as they were about to leave the kitchen, Steve heard Connor calling out to him.

“Steve, I believe I’ve found something relating to our case,” he informed him, beckoning Steve over to the kitchen sink.

“Oh, really? That’s great! What is it?” Steve turned back and approached the sink where Connor currently stood.

“I believe I’ve found a clue, right here,” Connor stated.

“A clue? Where?” Steve spun around and searched about the entirety of the room, but didn’t notice anything resembling a clue within his sights.

“It’s right here, in the sink.”

“In the sink? Where?” Staring into the sink, there seemed to be warm water, and quite the mound of suds, as if someone had just been doing dishes.

Connor pointed directly to the clue with his index finger to ensure Steve couldn’t overlook it this time. “It’s right here, upon these bubbles, it appears.”

Steve stared hard at the bubbles for several seconds, and sure enough… Blue’s pawprint was on the bubbles!

Thrilled with this discovery, Steve stood upright once more. “You’re right, it is a clue! Blue left her pawprint on these bubbles!”

“I must ask, though. How did your dog manage to get her pawprint on these bubbles? They’re quite small in comparison to her feet, and even if size weren’t any issue, she wouldn’t have the ability to-”

“You know what we need - our handy dandy… notebook!” Steve proclaimed. He reached into his back pocket and pulled free his notebook to write down this first clue.

Connor furrowed his brow. “Are you… drawing the clue?”

“Let’s see… For bubbles, we draw some circles like this… Add little shapes for the shiny spots… And we have bubbles!” Steve admired his depiction of the bubbles - nearly identical to those in the sink, and yet slightly stylized with his personal artistic touch.

“Alright, so our first clue is… bubbles. Who do we think would try to kill Mr. Salt with bubbles?”

“This clue seems rather nonsensical in the context of our investigation. Shouldn’t we be looking for things like a murder weapon, or footprints that would-”

“You’re right. I think we need to find two more clues to figure out who tried to kill Mr. Salt.” As much as Steve loved to anticipate the answer to Blue’s Clues based on only one or two of them, it was virtually impossible to do so. This applied now more than ever.

“…Right then,” Connor said. “Well, where shall we look next to continue with our search for clues in our investigation?”

“I think we can head outside,” Steve suggested. “It’s beautiful outside today, so Blue may’ve gone outside with her clues this time.”

“You mean, you don’t want to continue with our search around the scene of the crime? Typical investigatory procedures call for a detailed surveyance of the original scene and any associated witnesses.”

“I think it would be cheating if we used witnesses to play Blue’s Clues,” Steve explained to him. “We’ve got to find all the clues ourselves, after all. What fun would it be otherwise?”

“But this is less about fun and more about identifying the person who committed this-”

“Hey, I think I hear Blue outside! C’mon, let’s go find her!” Steve resumed his jovial steps past the sink and headed for the door. If Blue had made her way outside, then surely she would’ve left a clue there.

Connor stared at the freshly-cleaned countertop crime scene for another second before hurrying after Steve, and the two of them proceeded to the far side of the house and out the back door. A light breeze sifted through the lush greenery in the trees and met them as they stepped outside, perfectly complementing the warm summer sun that beamed down. Steve could vaguely hear Blue out here somewhere, though he wasn’t quite sure where.

“So remember, we still need to find two more clues,” Steve reiterated as they journeyed through the backyard.

“Yes, I remember,” Connor said, trailing behind Steve as he closely surveyed the surrounding area.

Just as they were about to turn the corner to reach the side yard, Steve caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. It was… something floating in the sky. Was it a balloon? No, it wasn’t that colorful. These objects were clear, and quickly carried away with a wisp of the wind. That’s right, these were…

“Bubbles!” Steve called out as he realized what he was seeing. “There are bubbles coming from over there!” He pointed towards the small stone wall that stood at the edge of their garden, where there was indeed an abundance of bubbles pouring out from below.

“Hm, bubbles indeed. Perhaps a coincidence,” Connor observed.

“Since bubbles were one of our clues, maybe these bubbles out here will lead us to our attempted murderer!” Steve explained to Connor.

“Well, I suppose it can’t hurt to check…”

“Let’s check out!” Steve told him before hurrying over to the stone wall where he’d first caught sight of the bubbles. He heard Connor shuffling through the grass behind him shortly thereafter.

Crouching down, Steve searched around the front side of the stone wall. The bubbles had since ceased, and there was no one here. But maybe on the backside…

“A-ha! Got you!” he shouted at the two potential culprits that stood before him.

“Steve?” said a questioning Shovel as Steve emerged before them.

“What’s going on, Steve?” followed Pail. Both of them held inquisitive yet genuinely concerned expressions in response to Steve’s seeming accusation.

Steve could only be honest with them. “Hi, Shovel. Hi, Pail. This our friend, Connor. We’re currently investigating the attempted murder of Mr. Salt. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” He wanted to be more direct with his questioning, but the two would likely be frightened by the outright accusation of murder.

“The attempted murder of Mr. Salt?!” the two of them cried in unison, evidently flabbergasted at the notion.

“That’s right,” Steve said. “Connor and I were just in the kitchen looking for clues related to the crime, and we found our first clue - bubbles. And since we just noticed bubbles coming from this area, we thought we’d better investigate. Lo and behold, you two were here.”

“Steve, I apologize, but I must interrupt once more,” Connor said, his voice falling as though he’d seen something off-putting just now.

“What is it, Connor?” Steve asked him.

“Are these another set of prototype androids? Rather similar to the side table drawer from which you retrieved your notebook, in fact.”

“Prototype androids?” Steve stirred over these words for a moment, then gave a laugh at himself. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? Connor, this is Shovel and Pail. They’re also our friends here.”

“Yes, but from where did you receive them? The oldest prototypes have long since been discontinued or destroyed due to software instabilities that were identified in recent years. I’m fairly certain that owning them is illegal nowadays, Steve.”

“Oh, well that’s not the case with Shovel and Pail,” Steve explained. “They’ve always lived here with us. So we don’t have to worry about that.”

“But-”

“Anyway, as we were saying…” At this point, Connor turned away from them with one of his hands atop his head, perhaps to get a bit more fresh air.

Shovel stepped forward this time. “That’s awful to hear about Mr. Salt, Steve. But we didn’t try to kill him or anything. We were just blowing bubbles out here for fun.”

“Yeah, it’s such a nice, breezy day that it’s perfect for it!” Pail chimed in, pulling the bubbles from within herself and blowing a few on the delicate breeze. Shovel did the same to demonstrate.

“I see…” Steve nodded along with their explanation.

“Do you have an alibi for earlier this morning?” Connor stepped in to ask them, crouched before them now with his arms crossed.

“An a-li-bi?” Shovel sounded out.

“Yes. Evidence of absence. In other words, if you weren’t in the kitchen trying to murder Mr. Salt this morning, then where were you?”

Pail giggled. “We haven’t been in the kitchen at all today. When we first got up this morning, we decided to have some fun playing in the sandbox.” With this, she gestured towards the sandbox that sat several feet away.

“Really? Well, we’ll see about that,” Connor countered. “Come on, Steve. Let’s confirm this alibi.”

Following Connor’s instructions, Steve stood and gave the two of them a smile and a wave. “Bye, Shovel! Bye, Pail! It was good seeing you this morning!”

“Bye, Steve! Let us know if you catch the murderer!”

“Will do!” he assured them, and followed behind Connor towards the sandbox.

“Do we have any word on Mr. Salt’s condition, Steve?” Connor asked him. “I noticed that Shovel just used the term ‘murderer’ there.”

“You know, I’m not sure. I guess we’ll find out when Mrs. Pepper and Paprika come home from the hospital. I’m sure he’ll be okay, though.”

Connor stood and blinked at Steve. “That’s quite the optimistic take on the situation, Steve. What will you tell the others if he truly does die?”

“Well, what can I say? I’m an optimist,” Steve gave with a chuckle. “Anyway, is there a reason we’re here at the sandbox now?”

“Yes, there is. I wanted to confirm Shovel and Pail’s alibi, since they claimed to have been dallying here earlier this morning. We need to ensure their story checks out.”

“Okay, great!” Steve concurred. Connor was really beginning to help out with this investigation, and he was great at tackling tasks that seemed like they had the potential to lead them to more Blue’s clues.

The two of them knelt down to peer into the sandbox and examine the contents. The sand was far from evenly grated, with tall mounds and deep holes dotted about the landscape.

“I think Shovel and Pail were indeed being truthful with their statement,” Connor finally declared as he ran a finger through the sand and brought it to his tongue.

“You think so?”

“Yes, I do. If you take a look at these tracks in the sand, you’ll notice that they match the shape of Shovel and Pail’s bodies. These short, flat lines signify that Shovel was recently here, while these rounded ones say the same for Pail. In addition, the minimal erosion of their tracks amidst this persistent breeze tells us that they were in this sandbox approximately fifteen minutes ago, which overlaps with the window during which the murder took place.”

Steve squinted at the indentations in the sand that Connor was pointing out. “Well, that’s great news! It means that Shovel and Pail aren’t our attempted murderers!”

“Yes, that’s right. I think we should continue to search for-”

“Two more clues!” Steve happily completed his sentence. They may not know who the perpetrator was at this instant, but Blue’s Clues would surely reveal their identity.

As Steve and Connor left behind the sandbox, convinced it held no clues related to their investigation, Steve began to lead the way back to the house. There didn’t seem to be any clues out here thus far, so perhaps Blue had decided to stick to the house and the many rooms contained within.

Just as they rounded the corner to the front yard and neared the door there, a powerful gust of wind emerged, sending all sorts of leaves and flower petals from their garden whirling about the air. And as this happened, there was something else that accompanied it. It was… a rather pleasant smell that wafted about in time with the breeze.

“Steve, I believe I’ve found something, here,” Connor said to him, gesturing with one hand while he pointed with the other.

“What is it?” Steve approached the area at which Connor was pointing to further examine it, but he didn’t see anything.

“It appears to be another clue,” Connor said. “Though I don’t fully understand how this could’ve happened…”

“A clue?! There’s a clue?! Where?!” Steve spun in circles searching for this clue that Connor had apparently found.

“It’s… no, not there. It’s right here, in time with the breeze.” As if on cue, another breeze sang through the air, and with it came that sweet fragrance that had previously captured Steve’s attention.

Following Connor’s hand, Steve searched until he finally saw… Blue’s pawprint! That’s right! Blue’s pawprint was on the clue!

…But what was this clue? It was a… well…

“Steve, I must inquire. It appears that Blue placed her pawprint on a fragrance to designate it as a clue. But… how would she be capable of such a feat? Her pawprint holds a diameter of at least three inches, and the particles that encompass such a scent are infinitesimally small. The only way this could be possible is if-”

“You’re right, it is a clue! There’s a clue on this… smell!” Steve exclaimed, enraptured with its discovery. “You know what we need - our handy dandy… notebook!”

“That’s right, the notebook routine…” Connor noted, still staring at the pawprint that seemed to be magically suspended midair, appearing only when the breeze brought forth that strong fragrance.

“Alright, so for a smell, we draw some wavy lines like this, and maybe add some dots to represent sugar so we know it’s more of a sweet smell… And there! We have a smell!”

“Your ability to physically conceptualize such things is fascinating,” Connor quietly remarked.

“So, what was our first clue, again?” Steve asked. He always had trouble recalling the clues they’d previously found, perhaps because he’d found so many during his time playing Blue’s Clues here.

“It was bubbles. We just investigated bubbles only five minutes ago, if you’ll recall,” Connor chimed in.

“That’s right, bubbles! And now our second clue is a sweet scent…” Steve stopped to ponder for a moment. “So who do we think could’ve tried to kill Mr. Salt with bubbles, and a sweet smell?”

“If I may interject, Steve. I don’t know that I fully understand how these clues are aiding in our capture of the culprit. They don’t seem to be relevant to the case, even tangentially. We still have no murder weapon, no knowledge of a motive…”

“That’s okay! We still need to find one more clue to help us figure out who tried to kill Mr. Salt. Don’t worry, I’ve never been able to determine the answer without all three of my clues before,” he assured Connor.

“I still don’t see how a third clue will assist us here. We require physical evidence so we can link the perpetrator to the scene of the crime, and to the victim himself.”

Steve wasn’t able to hear the last several words that Connor spoke, however, for music began to fill the air once more. Steve grinned as he realized what this meant.

“Oh, the mail’s here!” he bellowed, gesturing for Connor to follow him as he hurried inside through the front door to receive the mail.

“Where is that music coming from?” Connor questioned as he ran to match Steve’s brisk pace.

When they reached the living area, Steve felt his entire body spring to action in preparation for his second favorite song. His legs were poised, his fists tight, his back straight as the song beckoned to him. Blue leapt into position as well, ready to dance alongside him.

“Here’s the mail, it never fails! It makes me wanna wag my tail! When it comes, I wanna wail - MAAAAAIL!” Steve found himself even more animated than usual this time, his feet hustling beneath him while his hands danced at that final word. And with the song having ended, he plopped down in his thinking chair.

Connor could only stand motionless before the chair. “Where did that-”

Only a second later, Mailbox burst through the window and paused right at Steve’s side, as he always did. It was so good to see him today, for his delivery of letters would never cease to bring joy to their household.

“Mail’s in, mail’s in!” Mailbox delivered with a smile.

“Hiya, Mailbox! Oh, I need to introduce you to our new friend!” Steve realized, holding a hand out to gesture to Connor. “Mailbox, this is our new friend, Connor.”

Connor gave the slightest nod at these words, while Mailbox gave a warm greeting.

“It’s nice to meet ya! You here to visit?”

“He’s actually here to help us investigate the attempted murder of Mr. Salt,” Steve said.

“Someone tried to kill Mr. Salt? That’s too bad,” Mailbox scoffed. “I hope ya can catch ‘em soon, Steve.”

Steve gave a hearty laugh. “I’m sure we will. After all, Blue’s helping out with the investigation, and we only have one more clue left to find.”

“Wow, well it sounds like things are going great so far. Good luck to ya! Oh, and don’t forget your letter!”

“Of course!” Steve said. He reached into Mailbox’s innards as he opened his face and retrieved the letter. “Thanks, Mailbox!”

“You’re welcome!” he replied, and with that he retreated through the same window he’d entered. Before Steve could take a peek at the letter, however, Connor chimed in again.

“Does your mailbox do that every day?” he questioned, staring out the window through which Mailbox had just disappeared.

“That’s right. He’s never missed a single day with the mail. He’s a great mailbox!” Steve praised him, recalling the birthday party they’d recently held for him. Mailbox was so thrilled to have that day for himself, and it was heart-warming to see. Especially because Mailbox was always outside during the harshest weather, the rainiest rains, the snowiest snows.

“I must admit, I have not seen that type of android, either…” Connor conveyed, staring ahead as if iterating through his memories.

Steve failed to notice this though, for he was overjoyed to receive another letter today. “We just got a letter!” he happily spoke, beginning to wave the letter to and fro. Blue promptly leapt onto the back of the chair to accompany him once more. “We just got a letter! We just got a letter! We just got a letter! I wonder who it’s from?”

Opening the letter, this one seemed to differ from the typical daily letters that he received. They usually contained a greeting from several of his friends, but this time, Steve received nothing of the sort. Rather, there was some writing on the inside of this letter, which was something he’d never seen before.

“Is there something wrong with the letter, Steve?” Connor asked him, noticing his confusion arise.

“Well, it’s just that… normally this is supposed to be a letter from our friends. But today, it’s just a bunch of writing on the inside.”

“Writing on the inside? Is that not typical of the letters that you tend to send one another?”

“No, it’s not. These letters always contain our friends giving us a personal greeting, and then showing us something that they’re proud of.”

“So that greeting and the contents that follow aren’t in written format?” Connor tried to clarify.

“No, they’re always done so we can see our friends, and laugh along with them through their adventures,” Steve recalled.

“Are you saying that you receive letters containing videos? Audio and visual components presented within the paper of a letter?”

“Sure, you could call it that!” Steve answered. “But since we didn’t get one of those today, let’s see what this letter says.”

Steve fully unfolded each third of the letter so he could read the text from top to bottom. Clearing his throat, he read aloud for Connor’s sake, as well:

“Catch me if you think you can… I’m the slickest boy in all the land,” Steve read directly from the letter. He smiled afterwards, reading it again and again. “Ha, that’s really a nice little rhyme they’ve got there.”

Connor repeated those words after Steve finished. “Steve, it appears that we’ve received a letter from the perpetrator of this crime.”

“What? You really think so?”

“Who else would have sent this? It appears to be referencing the crime that took place this morning inside your kitchen, taunting us to come catch him. As if he thinks we’re incapable of doing so.”

“Weird… Why would somebody do that?” Steve puzzled. He couldn’t think of a single instance where he would send a letter purely to taunt someone else. Not only was it impolite, but it might hurt that person’s feelings.

“Criminals, particularly violent ones, are often apt to toy with investigators if they believe they’ve gotten away with a crime. These types of crimes fuel their ego, leading them to believe they’re superior, capable of unreasonable feats. It’s not surprising to see this.”

Steve found himself unable to wrap his mind around such a concept. Violent criminals? Superiority? It sounded like there may have been a big misunderstanding at the heart of this incident.

“In fact, could I see that letter?” Connor requested.

Steve handed it over. Maybe Connor would be able to better comprehend its contents and explain it to him this way.

Connor took the letter and ran his tongue over the corner of it, pausing for several seconds afterwards as if to process what he’d just done. His eyes widened.

“We have a match here,” Connor announced.

“A match?”

“Yes, that’s right. The same scent that we identified as our second clue just a few minutes ago is also embedded in this letter. It’s quite faint, but the fragrance is there for certain. I’ve identified it as a 99.9784% match, in fact.”

“Interesting… So what does that mean?” Steve asked him.

“As strange as this is, it may mean that we’re on the right track with our clues, thus far. It means that whoever sent this letter is indeed associated with that fragrance. I’m just not sure how, yet.”

“That’s great news! But you know what I think?”

“What is it?”

“I think we need to find our last Blue’s Clue to figure out who tried to murder Mr. Salt,” Steve said. They were so close - they’d found two out of the three clues. Surely they would find the other one soon, and then they could try to solve this case!

Connor opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. He finally settled by saying, “Yes, I suppose. We can continue to search for clues for our case.”

“Well, what’re we waiting for? Let’s go!” Steve stood from the thinking chair and motioned for Connor to follow along behind him. But after taking only a few steps into their reading area in the adjacent room, he noticed Blue trotting over to them, as if she had something to say.

Steve knelt down to her. “What is it, Blue?”

“Ba-bow ba-bow bow bow!”

Before he knew it, Blue did a quick spin, and then subsequently skidooed right into the book that lay propped open against the bookshelf behind them.

“Did you see that? Blue just skidooed right into that book!” Steve declared. “Why don’t we go, too?”

Connor interrupted Steve, however. “Excuse me, but I have to ask you. What sort of transformation did Blue just undergo? She appears to be much smaller now, and in a different location from us.”

“Oh, that’s Blue’s special skidoo move. We can do it, too! Let’s go together!” Steve walked over to Connor and had them link arms so they wouldn’t separate in the process.

“What is a ‘skidoo move’, as you called it?” Connor inquired, staring at Steve as their arms were entwined now.

“Let’s go, and I can show you!” Steve told him. He walked them over to the book, then readied himself with his knees bent, his arms held in the proper position for the skidoo dance. “Blue skidoo, we can too!” he called out. And with that, he and Connor whirled through the air, spinning half a dozen times as their forms shifted and they burst into the world of the book.

Steve gave a bumbling stumble as they landed, while Connor remained upright and mostly balanced at his side. Gazing about the page on which they stood, there was a white backdrop along with what looked to be an assortment of tools that littered the floor, and to their right… a body. And not just any body, but the body of a young boy.

“Hey! Are you okay?” called Steve, concerned at the sight of this boy who appeared to be unmoving before them.

“He doesn’t appear to have human vitals. Or any vitals at all, after giving a quick scan,” Connor stated as he stared at the boy for a few seconds.

As if on cue, the boy sat up from his position on the floor, then stood. His figure was flat, like that of the Felt Friends, and his hands were only knobbled stubs. Just after that, a girl of similar characteristics emerged as if she’d been perched on another page observing the scene this entire time.

“Hi, Steve!” said the boy.

“Hi, Steve!” said the girl.

“Hi guys! Oh, this is our friend, Connor,” Steve added, gesturing to Connor to introduce him, who didn’t even give a nod in his current state. “What’re you guys doing? We got scared because we thought you might’ve been hurt.”

“Jacob and I are playing Murder Mystery!” the girl answered.

The boy nodded alongside her. “In Murder Mystery, Beth and I look at the scene of a crime and try to figure out which of the objects left behind could be the potential murder weapon.”

“That’s right! If we can figure out which object is the murder weapon, then we can give it to the police to help them in their investigation!”

“Wow, well that sounds like a great game!” Steve enthused. This could be ideal for further developing their investigatory skills, seeing as they were still searching for Mr. Salt’s attempted murderer.

Only a second later, Blue hopped over to them from behind the two children and stood at Steve’s side.

“What do you think, Blue? Do you want to play Murder Mystery?”

“Bow ba-bow bow bow ba-bow!”

“Great! Let’s play some Murder Mystery and see if we can help Beth and Jacob with these murder weapons. And then we can look for our last Blue’s Clue!” He gave his usual hand gesture with those words, his anticipation of finding that last clue growing stronger by the minute.

“Steve, I have to stop you for just one second,” Connor spoke up.

“Sure! What is it, Connor?”

“I’m concerned about our current state. We no longer appear to be in the world where your home resides, but rather, in one that runs parallel to it. How did we achieve such a state, and how do we return?” Connor took another step closer to speak to Steve more discreetly. “Moreover, we seem to be associating with a couple of individuals who are neither human nor any other species I’ve encountered before. By all readings of my biological scanners, they’re not even alive.”

“Oh, there’s no need to worry. Blue and I skidoo into books all the time. The folks here are always really friendly! And when we want to leave, we can just skidoo back into our home,” Steve assured him.

“But, is it true, then? Is this world a universe that sits parallel to our own?” Connor further probed, his eyes still wide as he stared at the perfectly flat boy and girl that stood before them.

“I’m not sure what you mean… But I promise, we’ll get home with no problem. We’ve done this a million times.”

“Ba-bow bow bow ba-bow bow!” Blue added.

“See? Blue’s right - it’s totally safe here!”

Connor looked between the two of them for several seconds. “I’ll… try to keep that in mind.”

“Great! So, Beth and Jacob, let’s play some Murder Mystery!” Steve said.

“Okay, let’s get started!” Beth said. She and Jacob led them to the next page of the book, where they paused at the center of an entirely new scene. It was a spacious dining room in somebody’s home, with a large China cabinet that sat against the far wall and a sturdy table at the center that was seemingly set for dinner.

“Wow, what a nice room! The table and the plates on it are making me hungry for tonight’s dinner,” Steve said, giving his stomach a rub.

“Steve, this is a crime scene,” Connor reminded him. He gestured towards the few things that stood out amidst an otherwise pleasant dinner scene - there was a shattered dish whose jagged shards littered the floor beneath the table, and one of the wooden chairs was overturned. Steve frowned upon noticing these things, as it looked like someone may’ve accidentally fallen over while trying to serve dinner here. Beth and Jacob placed three items on the table that they appeared to have gathered from this scene.

“Which of these things do we think could be the murder weapon in this room?” Beth asked them.

Jacob stepped in. “We have a chair cushion, a knife, and a vase of flowers,” he listed, pointing to each item.

“Hmm… a chair cushion, a knife, and a vase of flowers…” Steve thought as he rattled off each object. They all sounded like relatively normal household goods.

“Did you move these objects from their original places within this scene? That sounds like tampering. You could’ve displaced additional evidence in doing so, and contaminated these items with your own DNA.”

“Well, we don’t have DNA, so it’s okay!” Jacob explained to him.

“I… you don’t have-?”

“I dunno Blue, which of these items do you think could be the murder weapon here?” Steve said, wanting to get her opinion as well.

“Bow ba-bow ba-bow bow bow bow.”

“Really?”

“Bow bow ba-bow bow!”

“You’re right, Blue! The cushion is for sitting, and the flowers are for decoration. So that must mean that the knife is the murder weapon!”

“Well, the cushion could certainly be used for suffo-”

“That’s right!” said Beth. “The knife is the murder weapon here!”

“Let’s bag that up and send it off to the police station!” Jacob instructed, after which the knife hopped into a plastic bag of its own accord and flew out the window, presumably towards where the police station sat in this town. Connor stared at the knife as it floated off with his mouth ajar, seeming to want to follow it out the window.

“Nice work!” Steve congratulated everyone. This seemed like it was a great learning experience for them so far. “Let’s move on to the next scene, now!”

And just like that, they hopped to the next page and were greeted with a brand new setting. This time they stood inside a garage - a concrete structure from top to bottom where there sat a bright red car, stacks upon stacks of surrounding metal shelves, and little in the way of fancy decor. There was some sort of red stain that smeared the ground on the driver’s side of the car.

“This is a pretty cool place, isn’t it, Blue? This is where you go to fix up cars,” Steve said to her as he absorbed the scene. They didn’t have a car of their own, but if they did, this would be a nice place to bring it for any repairs it needed.

“A garage, indeed. Garages are always riddled with hazards,” Connor said as he seemed to assess the room.

“I dunno, I think it looks like a lot of fun!” Steve countered. Connor didn’t open his mouth to speak this time.

“Which of these things do we think could be the murder weapon in this garage?” Jacob asked as he placed three more objects before them.

“We have a rag, a carjack, and a hammer,” Beth said as she gestured to each item.

“Hmm… a rag, a carjack, and a hammer,” Steve repeated. “Well, which of these three items do we think would be the murder weapon in this garage?”

“Has the rag been analyzed to see if it contains any compounds?” Connor inquired of their hosts.

“Any compounds? It’s just a rag, silly!” Jacob responded.

“I’m referring to chemical compounds. There are many types that could be used to incapacitate or further harm the victim.”

“Bow bow ba-bow bow ba-bow bow bow!”

“You think so, Blue?”

“Bow bow ba-bow!”

“You’re right, Blue! We think that the murder weapon here is the hammer. Because rags are used to clean things up, and carjacks are used for lifting cars!”

“You’re right!” said Beth. “The hammer is the murder weapon here!”

“I suppose that’s not terribly surprising, but that doesn’t mean the other two objects aren’t viable options either,” Connor insisted.

As if ignoring his words, the hammer bagged itself just as the knife did, and it hovered over them for a moment as if claiming victory before flying out the open garage door and to its presumed destination.

“Wow, we’re really getting good at this,” Steve said. He’d never thought that he could do something as complex as identify a murder weapon, but here he was. Maybe after this they could really become professional detectives.

“There’s just one more scene to go now!” Beth told them. And just after that, she led them to the next page of what would be the final scene, with Connor trailing at the back of their group. Steve was eager to see what this final scene would be. If they could get three in a row correct when it came to identifying murder weapons, that would be a tremendous feat!

On the next page, they were met with what looked to be a store. There were rows of aisles formed by tall metal shelves, which were stacked high with different varieties of food and drinks that each held colorful labels. At the front of the store was a counter with a cash register sitting atop it, and behind that was a row of carts.

“This looks kind of like someplace we’ve been before, doesn’t it, Blue?” Steve said to her.

“Bow bow ba-bow bow bow,” she responded.

“That’s right. But what kind of store is this?”

“It’s a grocery store. A place where people can purchase their preferred forms of sustenance for themselves or their families,” Connor answered.

Steve spun in a circle as he took another look around the store. “You’re right! It is a grocery store! A grocery store is where we go to buy food to put in the kitchen, Blue.”

“Bow ba-bow bow bow!”

“Interesting that a murder would take place here, in such a public place,” Connor remarked.

“Which of these three items do we think could be the murder weapon in this grocery store?” Beth said, emerging from one of the aisles after their exchange.

Jacob spoke as she placed three items in front of the counter where the register sat. “We have a grocery cart, a price scanner, and some potassium cyanide.”

“Hmm… a grocery cart, a price scanner, and potassium cyanide,” Steve echoed.

“Did you say potassium cyanide?” Connor asked, as if incredulous. He bent down towards the third object that Beth had placed down and took it into his hand. It was a small glass vial containing what looked to be a white crystalized substance, almost like sugar.

“That’s right!” Beth reaffirmed.

Connor stared at the item in his hand for a moment. “A cursory scan is showing that this is indeed potassium cyanide. How would someone have obtained this substance here? It’s unquestionably illegal for your average citizen to own.”

“That’s part of the mystery!” Jacob said.

Steve took a step forward and squinted at the vial after Connor placed it back in its original spot in front of the counter. “What exactly is potassium cyanide?”

“It’s a highly soluble crystalline salt. At its core the substance is a potent inhibitor of cellular respiration, as it will ultimately block oxidative phosphorylation. Though it has its uses, it can also serve as an extremely dangerous poison.”

Steve stood with his mouth wide open. “Wow, that was a lot of information, Connor.” He looked down at Blue. “Blue, I think we’re really going to have to work together to try to figure out which of these three things was the murder weapon here at the grocery store.”

“Bow ba-bow bow bow ba-bow bow!”

“You think so?”

“Ba-bow bow bow ba-bow bow.”

“That’s a good point…” Steve nodded with her.

“Steve, given the wildly illegal status of the third item, I think we’re going to have to-”

“Hmm, well the grocery cart is used for holding groceries, and the price scanner is used for checking the price of groceries. So… does that mean…”

“Bow bow bow ba-bow bow!”

“You know what? I think you’re right, Blue! We think that the potassium cyanide is the murder weapon here,” Steve finally concluded. This was a tough one, but he was confident in the decision they’d reached, thanks to the process of elimination.

“That’s right!” said Jacob. “The potassium cyanide is the murder weapon here!”

Steve’s face lit up. “We were right, Blue! We identified the murder weapon for the grocery store!” He and Blue spun in unison with one another to do a small victory dance. Connor seemed to simultaneously nod and shake his head alongside them.

The glass vial of potassium cyanide stood upright from its place on the floor, hopped into a plastic bag, and flew out the window of the grocery store, just like the other items did. Hopefully it would reach its rightful destination with its fellow murder weapon friends.

“Well, it looks like you did it! You solved all the Murder Mystery cases!” Beth commended them.

“Did you hear that, Blue? We did it!” Steve celebrated. “We solved all three of the Murder Mystery cases! And you know, we couldn’t have done it without your help.” As he said this, he gestured to Connor, who currently stood mouth agape, eyes on the window where the potassium cyanide had just disappeared.

“It was… no problem,” Connor acknowledged, giving another small shake of his head.

“Thanks a lot for all your help today, Steve and Connor!” Jacob said to them with a smile.

“Yes, for sure! You helped us get that much closer to solving all of these murder mysteries,” Beth added.

“We were glad to help! And you know what? I think we really improved as investigators ourselves along the way, so you helped us, as well,” Steve said.

“We’re glad you could learn from it!” Jacob expressed.

Connor stood with his arms crossed and didn’t speak amidst their acknowledgements with one another.

“Well, we’d better get going, now. We still need to find our last Blue’s Clue so we can figure out who tried to kill Mr. Salt,” said Steve.

“Wow, well good luck! Hope you crack the case!” Beth said.

“Oh, I’m sure we will any minute now,” Steve said, confident that this last clue would really help them piece together this case.

“Bye, Steve!” said Jacob.

“Bye, Steve!” said Beth.

“Bye Jacob, bye Beth!” Steve echoed to both of them.

“Bow bow ba-bow bow bow!” Blue called out before scurrying off to another page of the book. Surely she was headed towards wherever she wanted to leave their last clue.

Steve turned back to Connor and gestured to him. “Well, let’s get going! We’ve got to find our last Blue’s Clue!”

“Are we going to return to your ‘home world’ now?” Connor asked.

“Yep! We can skidoo back to it, in the exact same we that we got here,” Steve said.

Connor appeared mildly relieved at this, and he followed behind Steve as they began jumping through pages in the book to return to the very first page where they could skidoo back home. Steve assumed they would return the exact way they came, through the various scenes they’d visited with Beth and Jacob, but that didn’t seem to be the case as they stumbled upon one page that was wholly unfamiliar.

“What is this place?” Steve said as he stared around. They were in a room that was rather dim, the floors cracked concrete, the walls a mix of stacked cinder blocks and some sort of metallic material. A single fluorescent light hung overhead, illuminating a pile of red-stained towels that laid in the corner and what looked to be a large basin at the center that was half filled with murky water.

“It looks to be somebody’s basement,” Connor cautiously spoke as he took a couple steps about the room, seemingly scanning every surface and eventually focusing on the basin.

“Huh, I’ve never seen a basement before. Our house doesn’t have one.” Maybe the towels in the corner were just waiting to be washed. And the basin was probably used for washing them. What a convenient setup!

“Steve, I believe I’ve actually found just what we’ve been looking for,” Connor said to him.

“You did? What is it?”

“It’s an item containing Blue’s pawprint. She must’ve intended to designate it as our third and final clue.”

“You mean you found a clue? Where?!” Steve hurried over to Connor at the center of the room and tried to follow his line of sight. On the floor he saw empty bottles, a few tools that somewhat resembled the ones that they’d seen earlier while playing Murder Mystery, and a couple bars of soap.

“It’s right here, on this item,” Connor reiterated.

Steve looked again. “You mean on this knife?” Steve took the knife into his own hands and searched again and again for Blue’s pawprint, but he saw no sign of it on the blade.

“No, and I’d appreciate it if you put that knife down. It’s right here,” Connor said to him, pointing this time with his left index finger.

Dropping the knife, which hit the floor with a clatter, Steve followed Connor’s finger with his own two eyes until he found… a clue! Connor was right! There was a pawprint! And it was on…

“A bar of soap?” Steve questioned as he stared at the clue.

“That is indeed a bar of soap,” Connor confirmed.

“Wow, well that’s great! We have our third clue - a bar of soap! You know what we need - our handy dandy… notebook!” Steve pulled his notebook from his back pocket, incredibly eager to take note of this final clue.

“You don’t have to draw it if you’d prefer to save time,” Connor told him. “I can remember the final clue. And I suspect we want to leave this location as soon as we can.” He glanced again at the pile of red-stained towels in the corner.

“Well, maybe you’ll remember it, but it helps me to have it written down, anyway,” Steve said.

“Very well, then,” Connor gave with a sigh.

“Let’s see… For a bar of soap, we have a rectangle, some lines to connect… A couple squiggles down the middle for the indent… And there! We have a bar of soap!” This particular drawing matched the object itself so closely that Steve found himself more proud than usual of his own depiction. His art had progressed right alongside his detective skills.

“Our final clue…” Connor murmured.

“So, what was our first clue again?” Steve asked as they continued to stand in the dim light of this unfamiliar basement. It sounded like there was a loud creak above them, though maybe it was just the acoustics of the room.

“It was bubbles, Steve. That was just fifteen minutes ago,” Connor answered.

“That’s right, bubbles! And what was our second clue?” Though he’d drawn the clue himself, its appearance remained fuzzy in his mind.

“It was a scent. It didn’t have a physical appearance, but rather a sweet smell. One that I classified as number 3828546 in my own records, if that’s of any use to you.”

“That’s right, it was a sweet smell! And now our third clue is a bar of soap…”

“Blue’s Clues only consists of finding three clues, correct?” Connor asked.

“Three clues… Our third clue… This is our third clue!” Steve shouted upon realizing the significance of the clue they’d just found.

“Yes, as I was saying, three clues.”

“We have all three clues! You know what that means?”

“That we can finally leave this questionable-”

“We’re ready for our thinking chair!” Steve exclaimed. He’d been awaiting this moment for what felt like ages. At last, they could return home and he would have the pleasure of taking a seat in the most thought-provoking chair in the household. This could be exactly what they needed to solve the mystery of Mr. Salt.

“Alright, well let us promptly depart,” Connor insisted, and this time it was he who took Steve’s hand and hurried to jump to the next page as another creaking sound emerged above them. It was like that of a door, followed by a faint roaring sound, as if a machine had been powered on.

Before he knew it, Steve saw a picture frame containing the very image of their home - exactly what they were looking for! He strode over to it with Connor to prepare.

With Connor’s hand still in his own, Steve crouched down and put his arms into position. “Blue skidoo, we can too!” And with those words, they whirled through the air just as they did on their way in. After several spins with their hands remaining entwined, they finally landed back in their homeworld, in the reading room from which they’d departed.

“Come on, we’ve got to get to our thinking chair!” Steve declared shortly after they landed, rushing over to the adjacent room and motioning for Connor to follow behind him. Connor indeed followed him, moving to a brisk walk to match the near jog that Steve had progressed to in his excitement.

Now in the living room, Steve felt his own enthusiasm beginning to erupt as he seated himself in the thinking chair. Blue jumped up to poise herself at the back of the thinking chair, while Connor stood at its side, with no other seat to accommodate him.

“So if I understand correctly, the thinking chair is-”

“Ahh… Now that we’re in our thinking chair, let’s think!” Steve delivered, promptly pulling his notebook from his back pocket and holding it forward in its triple-clued state.

“Bow bow ba-bow bow ba-bow!” Blue barked in her excitement.

“So, we’re trying to figure out who tried to kill Mr. Salt…” Steve began. “Our first clue was bubbles.” On cue, the image from Steve’s notebook departed from the page to float above his head for everyone to see. Connor’s eyes followed it as it did so.

“Remarkable… how did you achieve that, Steve?” he curiously asked.

But Steve paid no mind to his words, for he was in thinking mode. “Our second clue was… a sweet scent.” And again, the image extracted itself from the page of the notebook and hovered above the thinking chair.

“And our third clue was…” Steve peered down at the page to confirm this final clue. “A bar of soap!” The drawing emerged once more and poised itself alongside the others, so all three clues now hovered above where Steve currently sat in the thinking chair.

“So we have bubbles, a sweet scent, and a bar of soap… Who could’ve tried to murder Mr. Salt with bubbles, a sweet scent, and a bar of soap?”

Connor seemed to want to make a suggestion, as he stood with his head cocked while Steve rattled off their clues, but he kept silent.

“Well, bubbles, and a bar of soap… Hmm… Could the attempted murderer be a big soapy bubble monster who went through a sugar factory?”

“…What?” Connor spoke that single word as he stood mystified at what Steve just said.

“No…? Hmm…” This was a tough case, as Steve had never encountered such an array of clues in one session before. They were of different categories, some visual, others aromatic… But there had to be an answer held within them…

“A bar of soap, alongside bubbles, is pretty indicative, I would think,” Connor said, staring at the clues as they hovered above the thinking chair.

Steve tried to clear his mind so he could double down on this mystery. “Hmm… A bar of soap, a sweet smell, and bubbles… Well, who do we know that has a bar of soap, a sweet smell, and bubbles?” Those clues just had to be indicative of someone in this household, but Steve struggled to recall who it could possibly be. Besides, everyone in their household was so extraordinarily kind that really, who could’ve possibly wanted to lay a finger on Mr. Salt?

“Well, those three items are all indicative of some sort of soap. Especially given my analysis of the letter that you received earlier, where there was a match with regards to the sweetened smell that served as our second clue.”

Steve tried to absorb Connor’s words. Their solution was likely related to some sort of soapy entity, given the bar of soap, the bubbles, and the scent that matched the analysis that Connor performed. The question then became… Was there anyone who resided in this household who matched this ‘soapy entity’ that Connor had described?

“Some sort of soap… Some sort of soap… Well, who do we know who lives in this household who’s soapy, has bubbles, and has this sweet smell…?”

“Bow bow ba-bow bow bow bow,” Blue quietly said at his back.

“Right, soap… Well, what is soap typically like?” Steve asked. “When you hold soap, it’s kind of…”

“Smooth? Slick? Perhaps, slippery?” Connor spoke up.

“Slippery…?” Steve repeated that single word. “Soap that’s slippery…” He pondered their clues again, envisioning the bubbles, alongside the bar of soap they’d found in the basement. Combine that with the sweet scent, and who could that be? Who did they know who embodied the notion of “slippery soap”, along with bubbles and a distinctly sweet scent?

“Admittedly, I don’t know everyone in your household, but there must be someone who possesses the characteristics of the soap we’ve found thus far.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at those words, thinking as hard as he could. Someone in their household who was soapy… Who was slippery… Who had bubbles and this particular sweet smell that permeated the air…

“We’re looking for someone who’s slippery… And soapy… Well, who do we know who’s slippery, and soapy…?” Steve had to pause for several seconds to contemplate once more.

Connor had nothing to say, for he wasn’t aware of the entirety of their household, though his face appeared frustrated at his lack of contribution to their solution.

“Slippery… And soap…” Steve repeated. “Slippery soap… Slippery soap… Slippery soap…? Oh… Slippery Soap…??!”

With Steve’s sudden outburst, Connor leaned over the armrest of the thinking chair to try to understand him. “Do you have an idea of who the attempted murderer could be?” he asked him, genuinely curious at this point.

“Slippery Soap… Slippery Soap! Oh my god… Could our attempted murderer be Slippery Soap?! Because Slippery Soap makes bubbles, he has a sweet scent, and he’s a bar of soap! I think… I think Slippery Soap is the attempted murderer!” Steve was practically screaming by this point, for he was so simultaneously shocked and thrilled at the notion that he could barely contain himself.

“Slippery Soap?” Connor tried to clarify.

But Steve paid no mind to him. “Blue?! Is Slippery Soap the attempted murderer of Mr. Salt??!”

“Bow bow bow ba-bow ba-bow bow bow!” she cried.

“He is?! Wow, we were right! We’ve found our attempted murderer! We figured out who tried to kill Mr. Salt!” Steve nearly felt his own organs dancing inside of him with glee, for he’d never felt such overwhelming joy before when solving a Blue’s Clues case.

“Ba-bow bow bow BA-BOW!”

Steve nearly gasped. “You know what this means? We just figured out Blue’s Clues!” He was ecstatic. They’d just solved this mystery - perhaps the toughest mystery they’d faced in the history of this game. “We just figured out Blue’s Clues!” he cheered again.

“So… The culprit was a bar of soap, all along…?” Connor queried, sounding skeptical of his own words.

But Steve was too busy to answer him, as he sprang forth from the thinking chair to begin his celebratory dance. “We just figured out Blue’s Clues! We just figured out Blue’s Clues! We just figured out Blue’s Clues! Because we’re really smart!”

Connor watched with fascination as he danced, his arms and legs flailing about as if each expressing their own individual feeling of delight at this resolution. “That’s quite the unique commemoration of us completing this Blue’s Clues case,” he commented.

When Steve finished his dance, he looked down to Blue, who stood at his side after having just completed her own jig. “Blue! So it’s Slippery Soap who tried to murder Mr. Salt?!”

“Bow bow bow ba-bow bow bow ba-bow bow bow!”

“I can’t believe it! Well, let’s go find Slippery Soap so we can confront him about Mr. Salt’s attempted murder!” Steve said.

And with those words, he motioned for Connor to follow him as they left behind the thinking chair - the chair that had empowered them, enabled them to identify their culprit at last. They were headed directly towards the bathroom now, where Slippery Soap typically resided during the day and night - a place where he and Connor hadn’t visited today, and yet a place of great importance in their household, nevertheless.

“Slippery Soap!” Steve called out as they entered into the bathroom.

“You may not want to be so pronounced in your approach, Steve. A felon will not always come forward voluntarily, especially a violent one.”

But before Steve had the chance to call out his name again, he saw him. In the bathroom sink, which was filled to the brim with water and overflowing with bubbles that occasionally flitted about the air, there sat Slippery Soap. He was perched aboard his favorite plastic sailboat, staring downward, and he held a frown, as if something was troubling him.

“Hey, Slippery Soap,” Steve said as they approached him at the sink. “Slippery, this is our friend, Connor.”

“Oh, hi Steve. Hi, Connor,” Slippery responded, though his voice remained low.

Connor didn’t return the greeting, instead leaning forward and squinting at him.

“You look pretty sad today, Slippery,” Steve said. He certainly didn’t like seeing his friends sad. If there was anything they could do to help him feel better, he wanted to do it.

“I guess I am kind of sad,” Slippery said. He took one of his arms and gave a small, pathetic splash in the water. One of the bubbles floating beside him popped.

“What’s wrong, Slippery?” Steve asked him.

“Slippery Soap, did you attempt to murder Mr. Salt earlier this morning?” Connor bluntly asked him, drawing his face even closer to the slouched bar of soap in his suspicion.

“Well…” Slippery cast his gaze even lower, giving a sigh before finally nodding. “Yeah, I guess I did…”

Steve shook his head. “That’s too bad,” he quietly said. “But, why did you try to murder Mr. Salt, Slippery? I thought you guys were great friends.”

Connor cocked his head, seemingly interested in the coming explanation as well.

Slippery sighed again. “We are great friends. I love helping Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper in the kitchen,” he began. “But… I guess I felt jealous of Mr. Salt. He and Mrs. Pepper are always helping you so much every time you play Blue’s Clues… Making snacks, going shopping, decorating a cake… And I don’t get to help that much when you play.”

Steve and Connor glanced at one another amidst the pause that Slippery gave.

“When we were about to make breakfast this morning, Mr. Salt said something about helping you and Blue today. Because today was probably going to be another Blue’s Clues day. And I got mad when he said that, because I wanted to be part of it, too. But I probably wouldn’t be, since that’s how it goes here. And so… I pushed him. I pushed him out of the very top shelf of the cabinet and watched him fall all the way down. I heard him smack hard against the counter, and I heard him scream when he hit. I got scared because I realized what I did, but I didn’t know how to react afterwards, so I ran away. And I came in here and hid for a little while, because I was afraid that I hurt Mr. Salt and didn’t know what else to do to try to make things better.”

Steve’s mouth fell agape with Slippery’s words. He sounded so remorseful, and he was so honest about what had actually happened earlier this morning. “Well, I think it’s really brave that you shared that with us, Slippery,” he told him.

“…Really?” Slippery said, peering up at Steve.

“Yeah. And you know, it can be really hard to understand how you feel. Sometimes I get sad, or mad, and I don’t always know how to handle it because everybody is different,” Steve explained to him.

“‘Everybody is different’ doesn’t justify an attempt at someone’s life,” Connor asserted, shaking his head at Steve’s reassurance. “Besides, didn’t Slippery send us a letter, taunting us as we tried to solve the case? That doesn’t seem very remorseful.”

“What letter…?” Slippery began, appearing clueless of such a thing.

“That’s true, too,” Steve said, interrupting him. Ultimately, Mr. Salt was hurt in this incident, and it was never okay to hurt somebody. “You know what I think, Slippery? I think you and Mr. Salt will both feel better if you apologize to him for what you did.”

“You think so?” Slippery said.

“Is Mr. Salt even alive? Do we know for sure that he survived being pushed off what was essentially a cliff?” Connor challenged.

“That’s a good point, Connor,” Steve nodded to him. They hadn’t seen Mr. Salt since he was taken away in the ambulance, but he was headed to a good hospital. “I’m sure the folks at the hospital took good care of Mr. Salt and got him all fixed up. Why don’t we go to the kitchen and see for ourselves?” he suggested.

“But he was only transported to the hospital twenty minutes ago. Even in an emergency scenario, there’s no way medical personnel were able to stabilize him and get him back home in such a short timeframe. The drive alone is probably longer than that.”

“Well, this is a pretty nice hospital. They’ve done some amazing things there,” Steve countered. “But let’s go to the kitchen and find out for sure. It’d be great to visit Mr. Salt after what happened.” Steve wanted to see Mrs. Pepper and Paprika as well, since he was sure they’d been worried sick about Mr. Salt this entire time.

“Is it okay if I come with you?” Slippery piped up.

“Absolutely! I think you should so you and Mr. Salt can see one another after what happened earlier.”

“We’re allowing the attempted murderer to see his victim? Is that what we’re doing here?” Connor stepped in.

“Of course! If Slippery can say he’s sorry to Mr. Salt, then I think everyone will feel much better about the case altogether,” Steve insisted.

Connor didn’t have a response. He briefly turned away from the other two with both of his hands atop his head.

“Well, let’s go, Slippery! Let’s see if Mr. Salt is back,” Steve invited him.

“Okay!”

“But, the letter that we received earlier… Was that not from Slippery Soap?” Connor mumbled as they left behind the bathroom.

No one paid any mind to Connor’s murmurings, though. The three of them made their way to the kitchen, with Blue following at their side this time. She was probably equally eager to see if Mr. Salt was okay, for they were great friends as well and she had witnessed the attempted murder in its entirety. Hopefully this would allow her to quickly recover from the incident.

When they arrived in the kitchen, Steve noticed that there were quite a few others gathered at the counter, chattering amongst themselves. There was Shovel and Pail, Bowl and Spatula, Mailbox and Tickety Tock… He moved to reach the center of the crowd and saw what everyone was gathered around - or rather, who: Mr. Salt. He was lying in a small salt shaker-shaped bed at the center of the counter with a fleecy white blanket pulled up to his chin and a pair of bandages taped across his head. Mrs. Pepper and Paprika were at his side smiling, while bouquets of flowers and boxes of chocolates were scattered about the ground surrounding the bed.

“Mr. Salt! You’re okay!” Steve gleefully cheered upon seeing him shift beneath his blanket. He was so glad to see their friend safe and sound once again that he nearly yelled those words.

Connor stepped forward beside Steve as if to confirm his current state. “Indeed… He actually survived the attempt…”

“Ba-bow bow bow bow ba-bow bow!” Blue woofed upon seeing him. She had brought what looked to be a paper card that she’d made with a heart on the cover, and she placed it down for Mr. Salt to see.

“Aw, thank you, Blue,” Mr. Salt said to her. “I am okay, yes. I’m feeling much better now, in fact. But I still need my rest so I can recover from what happened.” Mrs. Pepper frowned at those last words and glared in Steve’s direction - though perhaps not at Steve himself. That’s when he remembered the other guest they’d brought.

“Mr. Salt, we have someone else here who wanted to say something to you,” Steve said as he beckoned to Slippery Soap, who currently sat partially hidden behind him.

“Oh? Well, who is it?” Mr. Salt asked.

At this, Slippery moved forward to approach Mr. Salt in his bed. “Hey, Mr. Salt…” he began, his voice awkwardly trembling.

“Slippery?” Mr. Salt spoke questioningly. He didn’t flinch in his bed, though he did seem taken aback to see his attempted murderer.

“I can’t believe…” Connor started to mumble. But no one seemed to hear him.

“I wanted to say that… I’m really sorry about what happened earlier. I guess I got angry because I felt a little jealous, and I didn’t know what to do about it. But I never should’ve pushed you off the shelf, even if I did feel that way. It was wrong of me to do so. I’m really sorry that I hurt you.”

“Aw, well that’s kind of you to say, Slippery,” Mr. Salt responded. “But, why were you jealous of me? Was there something that I did?”

Slippery scratched the back of his head. “I guess I felt jealous because you and Mrs. Pepper always get to help out a lot with Blue’s Clues. And I wanted to be a part of it, because I like Blue’s Clues, too. So I guess I just felt… left out.”

Steve pondered his explanation again. “You know, maybe Blue and I can try a little harder to make you part of Blue’s Clues too, Slippery. You can help out more when we’re trying to find clues, or when we’re doing new activities and learning things. That way you and Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper are all included in our fun!”

“That sounds like a fine idea, Steve,” Mr. Salt agreed.

“Really…? You’d do that for me?” Slippery said.

“Of course, Slippery! We don’t want you to feel left out, after all. Blue’s Clues isn’t just about the clues - it’s about spending time with our friends,” Steve expressed. He felt his heart tickle as he said that. Blue’s Clues meant so much to the folks in this household, and he always wanted to ensure that everyone could enjoy themselves whenever they played.

“Wow, that’s really thoughtful of you, Steve. I’d love to be a part of Blue’s Clues more often!” Slippery enthused.

“You’re always welcome to join us! And we’ll make sure to stop by the bathroom more often to pay you a visit,” Steve assured him.

“That sounds like fun! I’m always happy to have friends visit!” Slippery said. After giving another pause, Slippery turned to Mr. Salt. “I’m glad we were able to talk this out. And I’m glad you’re feeling better now. I hope we can still be friends… Because you’re a good friend to have, Mr. Salt.”

“I think you’re a good friend to have as well, Slippery. I’d love to still be friends,” Mr. Salt said to him. They both smiled at one another, and in turn, everyone else in the room smiled… save for Connor, maybe.

“Wow… What a wonderful moment…” Steve admired. “It’s really nice of you to apologize to Mr. Salt, Slippery. And I’m glad that you two want to still be friends. Because friendship is really important.”

“Ba-bow bow bow ba-bow,” Blue agreed.

Just after that, Slippery leaned over to give Mr. Salt a card he’d made himself, whose front was decorated with a colorful array of bubbles. Mr. Salt, Mrs. Pepper, and Paprika all gave a laugh as they opened the card and looked inside. It seemed that they would truly be able to be friends once more.

Connor’s voice interrupted the tender moment. “Will we be arresting Slippery Soap, now? Felons in violent cases such as this one are typically held in prison while they await their trial.”

“Arrest Slippery Soap?” Steve repeated, furrowing his brow.

“Yes. He did commit a violent crime, in fact.”

“Well, he apologized to Mr. Salt, though. I think that means we’ve finally wrapped up this case.”

“An apology doesn’t change the fact that he tried to murder another member of the household. If we let every criminal free under the condition that they provided their victim with an apology, we’d have a world rampant with the lawless - the felonious.”

“Ah, well Slippery’s not a criminal,” Steve corrected him. “He just made a mistake earlier this morning, that’s all.”

“I… Sorry, what-?”

“And besides, what good would it do to have him locked away in jail? It wouldn’t help Mr. Salt heal, and it wouldn’t help Slippery learn his lesson.”

“I… Well…” Connor didn’t have the words to immediately dispute that.

“Bow ba-bow bow bow ba-bow bow,” Blue spoke up.

“What’s that, Blue?”

“Bow bow ba-bow bow.”

“Oh, really?” Steve looked down to Mr. Salt again and saw that his eyes were closed now, and he seemed to be peacefully sleeping. Mrs. Pepper held a finger to her lips. “Oh, okay, got it,” he whispered with a thumbs up. He turned to look at Connor and Blue. “We should let him rest now. He must be tired after today.”

“Bow ba-bow bow bow ba-bow,” Blue agreed.

Before leaving, Steve leaned down to Mrs. Pepper. “I’m glad he’s doing better. Let us know if there’s anything you need,” he quietly said to her.

“Yes, thank you, Steve,” she nodded, still smiling. She was surely happy to have her husband home once more.

With that, Steve gestured for Blue and Connor to follow him and began back towards the living room. He was so thankful to see that Mr. Salt was okay, and equally thankful to see Slippery Soap apologize to him for what had happened. Slippery was a great friend of theirs, and even though he made a mistake, he was able to hold himself accountable for what happened. It showed that he possessed not only maturity, but also a level of compassion for those whom he considered his friends. Mr. Salt and Slippery would probably be even greater friends after this, and their whole household would be stronger for it.

When they finally reached the living room, Steve halted there. Connor appeared to be deep in thought over something, while Blue seemed content with what had just transpired in the kitchen between their friends.

Steve approached Connor and paused before him. “Connor, I want to thank you too for helping us with our investigation. You arrived this morning just after the incident with Mr. Salt, just when we needed you the most. And you helped us so much as we played Blue’s Clues to figure out who tried to kill Mr. Salt. This was a tough one… I’m not sure we would’ve figured it out without your help.”

Connor held silent for a moment, as if he knew not what to say. “I… I’m glad I could help, Steve.” He seemed to debate his next words for a few seconds. “I know I was skeptical of your household when I initially arrived, but I must say, you seem to have a very kind group of friends here. And I’m glad that you and Blue are happy with the resolution.”

Steve grinned at him. “We absolutely are! Mr. Salt is home, Slippery Soap learned from the experience, and… Well, I feel like I really learned a lot from you, Connor. I’ve gotta say, you’re pretty good at this investigation business.”

Connor couldn’t help but smile. “Well, that’s my job, as they say.”

Giving another chuckle, Steve stepped back and positioned himself at the center of the room. “Well, there’s just one more thing left for us to do today,” he said.

“Really? What’s that? Is there another case that you’re in need of help with?” Connor asked him.

But Steve didn’t answer. “Now it’s time for so long,” he started to sing, with Blue echoing his words. “But we’ll sing just one more song!”

He sprang forth several new dance moves to accompany his singing, and though Connor merely stood and watched him, for the tiniest fraction of a second, he felt compelled to join him.

“Thanks for doing your part! You sure are smart! You know with me and you, and my dog Blue, we can do anything that we wanna do!”

“Bow bow ba-bow bow!”

When it seemed like Steve and Blue had finished in their small performance, Connor took a step forward. “I appreciate the sentiment,” he told them, nodding at the two with whom he’d concluded his very first game of Blue’s Clues.

“Well, I suppose you have to go now?” said Steve.

Connor checked the time. He’d been here for less than twenty-five minutes. “Well, actually, Cyberlife anticipated that I would be on this scene for the next two weeks due to the nature of the crime. So in theory, I don’t have to depart for quite some time.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Really? Well, that’s fantastic! If that’s the case, then why don’t you stay here, and we can go make lunch together!”

Connor hesitated. Normally he would report back to his headquarters exactly as he was instructed, for he was an android who had to strictly adhere to any orders he was given. But… in this case, he didn’t care to obey those orders. No, in fact, he explicitly wished to defy them. He’d never felt this way before, and yet there was a new sensation that had been building inside him since he arrived here, one that coursed from the tips of his fingers down to his toes as he felt something transition within him - or maybe awaken. What was this feeling? He couldn’t quite describe it. But… perhaps it was a good thing. Perhaps it was something he should explore.

“That sounds lovely,” Connor said, giving Steve and Blue another smile. And this time, it was his own genuine smile.

“Great! Let’s go then!” Steve said, and he began his usual jolly walk back to the kitchen so they could start to prepare lunch together.

As Connor trailed behind him, he noticed an incoming message from Cyberlife asking him for an update on his investigation. He stopped for an instant as he debated his response. Cyberlife always demanded an expedient reply, and he was quite stringent in observing that requirement. But then, that feeling returned to him once more… That extraordinary sensation of something having arisen inside of him. This was it. He knew what he wanted to do, now.

Connor reported to Cyberlife - I’ve arrived at the scene of the incident and am currently working to secure the location and canvas it for evidence. No witnesses thus far. Victim’s status - unknown. Perfect.

With that reply sent, Connor moved to Steve’s side and continued into the kitchen so they could prepare lunch together. There was a subsequent response from Cyberlife a short time later that commended his efforts towards the case, and Connor could only smile.