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It only occurs to Vector midway through the afternoon that he hasn't heard a peep from Charmy in a while.
He'd pin it on being too focused on his work to notice - and he was working, alright, he didn't doze off mid-report, despite what Espio might think - but it's not that easy to believe. Charmy is the definition of chaos; if he wants to be heard he will, and over the years he has, if not ruined, then at least…livened up a fair amount of quiet days.
Therefore, not hearing his voice bounce between the agency walls and perforate any eardrum in the vicinity is especially troubling. Vector waits a few seconds, just in case he had somehow missed the occasional ungodly screech, but he's met only with silence, so he gets up from his desk and wanders off in search of the missing bee.
It's not that he's worried. He's pretty sure there's nothing in the house that could give a child any permanent damage, and Espio would cut in before it resorted to that anyway. And it's not like there's any chance of someone having kidnapped Charmy or the likes - hell, they'd probably give him back after twenty minutes even if they tried. But it is a mystery, and Vector is legally and morally bound to solve any mystery happening in his vicinity, especially if for once it means catching his kid before he tumbles headfirst into trouble and not having to thwart a burglary attempt.
When a cursory search of the other rooms doesn't give him any hint of what might be going on, though, he has no choice but to bring the matter to the only person who might have a clue.
Espio is currently in the midst of picking up discarded takeout containers from the floor and stuffing them into a trash bag. He looks up once he hears Vector come in, and then produces the wrapper of what must have been cookies of some sort. "Any idea how this ended up under the couch?"
"'S not mine. Must be Charmy's" Vector replies with a shrug. It's a blatant lie, but then again it's not like the boy's there to deny it.
Which, by the way, is exactly why he’s come out of the office in the first place. "By the way, where's Charmy?"
"What?" Espio looks away from him, instead frowning at a piece of rolled up foil as though it had personally offended him - and it might as well be true, all things considered, since there are at least half a dozen other balled up wrappers scattered around the floor.
Okay, maybe the situation was slightly getting out of hand before Espio intervened. They can't help it much - there's no time to waste cleaning up when one's working on a case, hot on the heels of criminals - but it makes Vector feel the tiniest bit abashed.
Still. Back to the matter at hand. "The kid. We didn't forget him anywhere, right?"
"You're telling me you didn't hear him go out to play? Because I thought the whole neighborhood had."
Truth be told, Vector does remember hearing something, hours ago. Not much. Mostly doors slamming and Charmy howling "Snow! Snow! Snow!" at the top of his lungs, and then Espio running after him to try and get him into some warmer clothes. He hadn't thought much of it before - he could barely remember it had started snowing at some point this morning before Espio mentioned it - but now he has to admit it makes more sense than most options he'd considered.
Vector turns to the window. It's not snowing anymore, it must have stopped somewhere after the whole mess got into his ear and came right out of the other, but he can still see a thick white layer covering the ground and piling up in the eaves of the nearest houses. It almost makes their ruined street look prettier somehow, cleaner, its sharper corners smoothed down.
Still no Charmy in sight, though.
"I'll go and check on him" Vector says after a moment. "I don't like it when he's quiet. I bet he's plotting something."
For his part, Espio only raises an eyebrow before going back to his work. "Tell him to come inside while you're at it. It's getting dark."
"Yeah, yeah."
He bundles himself up before he steps outside, half because Espio is likely to yell at him as well and half because he's too cold-blooded not to catch his death otherwise. Still, the cold hits him like a brick wall once he opens the door, and he blinks a couple times, trying to resist the urge to go back the way he came from.
Shit, how did Charmy stay out there so long without freezing his pants off? He's complained about less harsh conditions while they were out on a case before, it's hard to believe he'd ignore it so easily just because he's been having fun.
It's hard to believe he might be anywhere close, too - everything's too quiet, too peaceful to even consider someone disturbing it. It's as if the snow had muffled down every noise but those Vector himself is making, smothering them until all's left is an almost eerie silence.
He presses on for a while, the snow crunching under his feet. He's right about to call out to Charmy because frankly, it is getting a tad ridiculous, and the sooner they get back inside where it's actually warm, the better...
And then the snowball hits him right on the snout, fair and square.
Vector yelps in surprise, and then lets out something close to a growl, brushing snow off his face so he can find the culprit. Now he can hear Charmy alright, his laugh ringing loudly in the otherwise silent backyard.
The bee is a couple feet from him, hovering high enough over the mounds of snow that they can be eye level. "I got you!" He calls out, practically bouncing in excitement. "I got you, I got you, I got you!"
"You didn't get anyone" Vector grumbles, though he has to admit the enthusiasm is infectious enough that he can't manage to be too pissed. "You caught me by surprise. That's bad form, kid."
"But I did. I got you." Charmy hooks a finger in the scarf that's wrapped around his neck and mouth and eases it down, revealing the big grin underneath. He's lost a baby tooth recently, right on the front, and most people seem to find the resulting gap-toothed smile endearing, charming enough to convince them they're dealing with a much sweeter kid than that.
Vector's not fooled, though. He knows better. "Is this what you've been doing all day? Throwing snowballs at unsuspecting people? Because if I have to pay for any broken window around here, you're out on the streets."
He doesn't mean it. Of course he doesn't mean it. But he has to pretend his threats have at least some effect, to preserve what little self-respect he has left.
Charmy, though, only shakes his head. "No. I've made snow angels, and a snow fort, and, and...and snowmen! Come see the snowmen, Vector, come on!"
"Now wait a second-" But the kid's already turned around the corner of the house, buzzing excitedly, so Vector has no choice but to follow him, trudging along in the snow.
If possible, Charmy's smile grows even wider when the crocodile catches up with him, and he gestures widely at the couple of shapeless snow figures he's floating besides, like an artist showing off a particularly challenging masterpiece. "Look! That's you and Espio! Though Espio doesn't look very good, I couldn't get him right. You look better."
Vector stares at the two...things, trying to come up with something to say. He's rarely at loss for words, but there's no appropriate response to what he's seeing. Snow Espio would be bad enough on its own, since it's so misshapen that he might actually burst out laughing if he stares too long at it, but his own portrait is another matter entirely.
It's bigger than the other one, he'll give it that. It's also covered in uneven lumps of snow, haphazardly stacked over one another, and it lacks any feature that might remind anyone of him, bar perhaps a bigger, more prominent lump where his snout should be. More than a snow crocodile it calls to mind some sort of dangerous monster, crept out of a swamp still dripping mud and grime. There's even dead leaves and twigs poking out of it, though if that was intentional or they were just swept up with the rest of the snow is anyone's guess.
Vector would think that he's being made the butt of some articulate joke, but judging by Charmy's expectant look as he waits for his opinion, there's a strong chance this might be a genuine problem. Maybe. He's not sure. It's always hard to tell if Charmy's trying to mock someone or if childish candor is to blame for his outbursts. Most times he doesn't even mean to get in trouble, he only says the wrong thing at the wrong time exactly when the wrong people are in earshot.
Still. It'd be easier if it were a joke, because then he'd be allowed to call these things ugly. But as it stands, he's not sure he'd be able to compliment them while keeping a straight face - he can't even hope Charmy wouldn't notice, because the kid is bloody observant when he wants to. And he's not so cruel as to want to crush the little one's artistic prowess just like that.
He's stuck. Dammit. There's no way out.
Vector's snapped out of his elucubrations by someone tugging insistently at his hand. Charmy grins up at him, bright and hopeful, and points at the two snowmen again, with more insistence. "What do you think? Do you like them?"
Vector looks at him for a long moment, still caught up in his inner debate. Then, finally, he comes to a decision.
"They look good" he says, and then, as Charmy's already beaming with pride: "But I think they need some work. Come here, I think I might have a couple suggestions on how to make them more stable."
Charmy complies, for once in his life, and obediently flies closer, leaning in to hear what he has to say...
And then promptly rears back, squealing, when the handful of snow Vector had been gathering behind his back flies towards him, narrowly missing his face.
The little bee giggles in delight, diving to avoid another blow or perhaps to pack another snowball to send in response. "That's not fair! I wasn't expecting it! You gotta fight fair!"
Vector grins back. Somehow he hadn't expected his afternoon to end like this, but he can't say he's disappointed. No one can blame him if he tries to have his fun while distracting the boy from further attempts at art, after all, and snow's there for a reason beside muddying the road when they're trying to get into town.
"There's no fair in snowfights, kid."
Espio looks suitably unimpressed when he has to come out to get them both, later that day, but Vector can't find it in himself to care. His cheeks are hurting, both from the cold and from laughing his ass off at the way Charmy threw his snowballs, clumsily and off-aim and with glee enough for ten kids, so he can count his plan a success.
And if at some point they "accidentally" knocked down the Vector snowman, turning it into snowball fodder as the lumpy snow Espio was the only one left standing...well then, those are just the risks of roughhousing games, aren’t they?