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Chapter Text

The wikipedia page on Isaac Newton's law of universal gravitation, says that every particle attracts every other particle in the universe, with a force that is proportional to the product of the masses, and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between their centres. This is a mouthful and a half to understand, and really we all know what it actually means. Everything gets pulled towards a gravitational centre, aka everything that goes up has to come down eventually. 

And it does, with a muffled “thump” the bottle of sunscreen, insect repellent and cheap black flashlight Noir got her just for this occasion, joins the bundle of crumbled up clothes in the trolley bag. It's bright pink, and on the front side it's got a winking cat motif embedded into it, the first thing she really got to get for herself after moving. 

The bag is easily distinguishable as belonging to one Peni Parker, by the large white sticker with her name on it, that's sitting right above the winking eye of the cat, as per the camp's guidelines. 

That damn camp. The whole reason Peni is currently shoving a couple of extra pairs of underwear into a blue plastic bag, and then into the bigger catbag. There's clothes littered around her room, as she was deciding, and promptly thereafter failing to decide what to bring. As per the packing guides instructions, she has finally gotten some different sets of comfortable clothing, her bathing suit (it's also pink and with cat faces all over it, she knows what she likes alright), her green bulbasaur pyjamas and a pink cap with cat ears. 

It’s mind numbingly boring, and yet the most complicated thing she's had to do. How do you even know what youre supposed to bring? What if you get wet, or muddy 3 times in the same day? Is she just supposed to bring 20 different outfits? Peni lets out a deep sigh, and throws herself back onto the bed. She lands with a bounce right beside the bag of toiletries Noir had handed her this morning after breakfast. There's so little left now that still needs to be to be actually found and packed, mostly she just has to make it fit in the catbag. 

But- she's procrastinating. It's both on purpose and also not. Just, the longer she gets to just lay here in her comfortable bed at home, the less she has to think about the fact that her dad is once again sending her away during the summer break. It's unfair and it's cruel and it's so stupid. It makes something inside her hurt when she thinks about it, it makes her want to throw her things against the wall and just scream until there's nothing left inside her. But that's greedy and selfish, and really deep down she understands why it has to be like this. Her dad loves her, he really does. And they do spend time together, all the time and so much more than what she got before. But actually having someone who pays attention to her, and has time for her has spoiled her. It's his job and Peni is just his daughter. There's a hierarchy to these sorts of things, to what's important in adult lives 

With great effort she turns over onto her stomach, pulls a plushy pillow under her face and actually screams. She's tired of this, she just wants to stop thinking, to get these thoughts out of her head and just go away. They make her stomach hurt and her breathing feel all weird and she doesnt like it. 

The screaming has stopped. It wasn't really all that loud, so there's not a chance she'll have alerted her dad. Now her throat just hurts a bit, and she can't help but want him to have heard. Let him know I'm suffering , she thinks, maybe then he'll stay home with me. But that thought process only lasts half a minute before she feels bad. She's a good daughter who understands he dads responsibilities, and besides it's getting a bit uncomfortable to lay like this, on her stomach with her head elevated on the pillow. So she lifts herself up, sits with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed and surveys the state of her bedroom. 

It's as messy as it was 5 minutes earlier, her clothes are still all over the place, and her bag of toiletries are still right beside her on the bed. With a deep breath Peni takes a hold of the bag and hops off the bed and drops it into her bag. The bag is really filled she realizes as she looks at it. The contents are flowing halfway out on one side of the bag, and she's pretty sure she's gonna have to sit on it if she's gonna be able to zip it shut. And she still needs to fit at least two towels in there still before she's done with the list. Peni squares her shoulders, and with determination in her eyes, she gets to work. 

~

A little under an hour later, Peni is standing triumphantly in front of a fully closed cat themed trolley bag. The cat is positioned in a way that makes it look like its winking as a sign of work well done, so Peni sends it a double thumbs up in return. There's a bright smile on her face, as she picks up her blue backpack. It's filled with a number of different knick-knacks, like her Nintendo switch, one of her ipads (the one with the keyboard cover. She's working on some code and God forbid she's leaving it at home all summer), some spare parts for SP//dr, and of course SP//dr themself. She cannot leave the little robot home all alone, they'll starve! Well not really since they are a robot and all, but it's more the principle of things. 

There's a knock on the door, and Peni is a little embarrassed to admit that she jumps a good foot into the air and lets out a high pitched “eep”. She does get out a shaky “come in”, despite the shock. The door opens to reveal dad standing in the door opening. He's fully dressed up in his ‘detective gear’ as he so adoringly calls it. Peni never really got what the whole idea with the outfit is. Black fedora, black vest and pants, with a black trenchcoat and a pair of round glasses to really finish up the look. It really just makes him look like a stereotypical detective, from those bad detective movies they sometimes watched together when Peni struggles with falling asleep. Peni will try to puzzle out who did it, while dad gives comments and criticism on the shoddy detective work. By the time the movie is done, neither Peni or dad ever gets the actual suspect right, and dad starts to cuss out the movie with his old timey curse words that Peni aren't allowed to say, and swears up and down that he'll never watch another b-list detective movie again. And yet by the next time Peni knocks on his bedroom door, a brand new detective movie is playing on the tv. 

Right now, the reminder of dads job makes all the good mood drain right out of her, as she's reminded why she put in all that effort in the first place. Peni lets go of her backpack and it makes a ‘thump’ sound as it hits the floor. Crossing her arms over her chest, she can feel a scowl take over her face, as she lowers herself to the floor, crossing her legs in the process, as she joins her backpack on the floor. 

“Hey pumpkin” He says leaning against the doorframe, there's a pinch to his brow and a flash of guilt crosses over his face as he inspects the room. “I just wanted to see how the packing was coming along.” There's a tight smile on his face, Peni can tell that he's clenching his jaw, an upside to living with another person for 2 years. But now the anger is back inside her, it's boiling away in her chest. How dare he be so calm and gentle about all this. Peni is angry and it's all dads fault, and now it's gonna be his problem too. 

They keep eye contact for a couple of seconds, before Peni turns her head away and curls into herself slightly, with her chin tucked into the side of her shoulder. Dad lets out a deep sigh, and if Peni could see his face she bets her rubbing his hand along the bridge of his nose, as he so often does when he's exhausted and doesnt wanna deal with whatever problem has been sent his way. 

"Listen” the sound of footsteps coming closer indicates that dad has stepped into the room fully now. He's making sure she knows he's coming, normally dads footsteps are quiet as those of a cat, but as he's making his way over to crouch beside her, he's making sure he's being heard. Peni continues to ignore him. “I know this isn't really optimal,” there's a pause, dad claps his hands together and lets out a long breath of air. “I know this isn't how you want to spend your summer vacation, but-” “You're right” Peni interrupts, “I dont wanna do this at all!” She practically spits out, whipping her head around so she can glare at her dad. His mouth is still open in a soft o shape stemming from her harsh interruption.

Dad deflates, this isn't a fight he can win and he knows it. “This case,” he stresses with a sigh, “is just really important to me, I can't let it go.” The silence is back again, deep and oppressive, but Peni doesnt dignify that with a respons, just lets them simmer in the oppressive atmosphere. There's a pained expression on dads face. He lets out another deep breath, eyes downcast as he says, “Listen if I finish this case fast, I'll come get you.” He claps his hands together again, and Peni’s eyes stray to the sound briefly before locking eyes with her dad once more. “I'll cut the stay short, I'm sure they'll understand, and then we'll do something together.” Dad smiles, “you'll have me for the rest of summer vacation, Bug.”

Aaand bingo, there it is. 

A little pouting and show of genuine emotion, and dad has fallen right into her net, head first and no time for second thoughts. Dad always stresses how important telling how you actually feel and needs is, and well Peni can't say she's really the best at following that advice. So when it finally does happen, dad is listening and a lot more malleable. And despite being a detective, Dad is always so damn gentle with her emotions, he never assumes anything. It's not like it got her fully out of going to summer camp, but potentially shaving a couple of weeks off that she can spend with dad, she'll take it. 

Peni puts on a show of thinking over dads proposal, despite the both of them knowing that the choice is already made. “Fine” she grumbles out, a ghost of a smile appears on her face, and she tries to hide it by burying her face in the crock of her elbow. She's not good enough at hiding it though, because as soon as the sound is out of her mouth, her dad has brightened a considerable amount, and he opens his arms and embraces her. Peni fakes a struggle, but that only makes dad start tickling her sides, and soon she's on the floor wriggling and crying with laughter as dads fingers rake over her sides. 

After a while they're both laying on their back on Penis floor, just staring at the ceiling. There are a dozen or so, glow in the dark stars right above her bed, and Peni gets so lost in making up her own star signs, that she almost doesn't notice when dad sits up. 

A large hand runs through her choppy locks, and Peni closes her eyes and leans into the touch. Dad gives away touch like it's the oxygen he breathes, and yet Peni can never get enough. A kiss to her cheek or forehead during breakfast. A hand on her shoulder or in her hair as they leave the house. A hug before he leaves her at school, another one when he comes to pick her up again. Various fuzzing as they just exist in their apartment. Cuddles when they watch movies on the couch. And another hug and a kiss before she goes to sleep in the evening. It's almost too much and still not enough at the same time. The hand cards through her hair a couple of extra times, then it's gone and Peni knows this is it. 

Time to go to summer camp. 

~~~~~

There's a constant stream of low murmuring coming from the farthest corner of the office. As well as a general sound of bumbling around that comes with moving various things from inside the office to outside. It's a small office, but far from bland like many corporate skyscrapers, draped in their many shades of grey and almost sterile environments, that Noir is used to seeing while working. This place on the other hand, has light cream coloured walls, with light wood coloured cabinets hanging all around the available wall space. There's a little kitchen space in the far left side, with a couple of wood coloured counters and a small white fridge, with lots of alphabet magnets and a large variety of what looks to be kids drawings. There's only a single window nestled in between the cabinets and the kitchen, and then a whole row of windows beside the door, illuminate the open waiting area. There's a door that clearly leads further into the building, whatever that though, Noir does not know and he doesn't really have any intentions to find out either.  A couple of miscellaneous wooden desks sit around the room, and a couple of different models of desk chairs are rolled up to a couple of them. The ceiling is a pleasant dark wood with a wooden support beam going straight across, it makes the room feel smaller than it actually is, but that only makes it feel more cosy. 

Separating the waiting area from the rest of the office, is a long desk with smooth wooden surface, that goes about halfway across the room, still leaving ample room to traverse through the office and waiting space. And this is where Noir is currently going over the last points of signing Peni up for summer camp. 

A well manicured finger points to a line on the paper, “You just need to sign here Mr Parker, and your daughter is all tip top ready to go!” Comes the cheery voice of Lyla. She introduced herself as the secretary when they walked through the door. With a quick scratch or two where Lyla pointed, Noir hands the paper over to the woman and lets her inspect it. 

“Thank you so much for doing this, truely.” His words only get him a lighthearted laugh in return. “As much as Miguel likes to grumble and brood, he's really happy to let the kid stay.” Noir throws a quick glance back at where Peni is waiting in one of the chairs by the door, playing intensely on her switch. “She’ll be taken great care of. Dont. Even. Worry. About it Mr Parker” Lyla says as she walks over to one of the desks in the bag and neatly lays the stack of papers on top of it. 

“Noir is fine really, or Peter at the very least.“ He watches her as she walks back around the desk to join Noir in the waiting room. “You make me feel like I’m at work, and the less I can do that the better.”

Lyla lets out a hum “I suppose Noir will have to do then, seeing as we already have a Peter among the staff” Noir just nods, no feeling like he has to add anything to that, Lyla can make her own decisions. 

Lyla crosses the room till she makes it to a point where she can crouch down in front of the chair that Peni is occupying. The younger girl doesnt spare her even a glance away from her video game, but that doesn't seem to put Lyla off at all. She smiles softly at Peni, and with a slow, almost choreographed movement, she lets a hand fall onto the younger girl's leg and rubs it back and first in a comforting motion. It seem to surprise Peni, who tenses briefly at the contact, but continues to play nonetheless.

Peni still does not spare the adults in the room, even a glance. It's on brand for the kid though. It's her way of rebelling against this whole operation. She stays quiet, and eerily so as compared to her normal noise level, which consists of various beeps and

boops that come coupled with whatever project Peni is working on at the moment, as well as either cries of frustration or cheers of victory when it finally works out. It’s never quiet in their little apartment they call home, Peni isn’t shy when it comes to talking about her animes or new coding she tried out for SP//dr, and Noir is just like her, easy to get going on and on about things he likes. So as a general rule of thumb, their relationship is one constantly filled with happy chatter. 

Except of course for now. She’s definitely gone on silent strike.

Lyla continues to just rub back and forth, there’s no doubt that she’s definitely met kids like this before, and had long nights huddled up in this very office to comfort homesick children. 

 “Listen kid-” “it's Peni” comes the snappish correction. “Peni then,” Lyla takes a breath and stops her movement “I know it can be a bit difficult to let your dad go, and… just let yourself exist here at camp.” There's a gentle note to Lylas voice, almost like how a mother would talk to their distraught child. “And your dad has just been telling me how much he loves you but…” there's a sorrowful pause before she begins again “But this, is just really important to your dad, eh bud”

There’s a smile at adoring her features, it’s supposed to be reassuring, to bring comfort to this obviously distraught child, but Noir can see the sad tilt adoring the edges and a (what he believes to be) genuine empathy shining through her eyes. She really feels for his daughter.

This is a good job for Lyla, Noir concludes. She seems to both care and have a stellar connection to the kids. Or at least to his kid. 

In Peni's now slack hands, her switch is still letting out muffled game sounds and an assortment of different brightly coloured screens play out one after the other, but neither Peni nor Lyla pay the discarded game system any mind. They're locked in a staring competition, and just judging off the fact that the older woman got his daughter's eyes away from her fictional world, gives him a clear image of who's in control here. 

God how he wishes it was that easy to get Peni to believe in his side sometimes, but that's just the straw he's pulled as her actual dad he supposes. 

The time of being sombre and understanding seem to have passed, and Lyla stands up with more grace than should realistically be possible, considering the amount of time she'd been crouching, but alas. She gets up, a blinding smile on her face and extends a hand to the smaller of the two. Lylas energy has been completely reversed and it throws Noir for a loop. It also makes him realise that he's just been standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, watching another adult comfort his kid. There's a feeling rearing its ugly teeth at him inside his chest, one that feels a little like shame. Shame at his inability to adequately help his daughter.

Completely blind to the inner turmoil Noir just went through, the girls make quick work of getting Peni’s various electronics back into their respective bags, making small talk as they work. 

“So are you ready for a very professional, unofficial official tour of our beautiful camp, little Spider?” Lyla makes a loose superhero pose, with her hands firmly planted on her hips, chest slightly pushed forward. Noir lets out a soft chuckle at the starstruck look on his kids face, she's known this woman for less than 10 minutes, and yet she's been completely converted. He walks a few feet over to his daughter to pick up her blue backpack from the floor, to hoist it onto Peni’s back. It earns him a slack confused look on his daughter's face over her shoulder as she looks back at him. 

He just lets out a lighthearted laugh and pats her on the shoulder. “Lets get on with this tour then, bug.” 

~~~~~

“-And then the cabins we just passed are Peter B’s realm of chaos” Lyla points out a bundle of log cabins as they walk past them, and then adds with a fake stage whisper “That really just means they’re under his jurisdiction.” Noir nods along with her words. They look very much like how Noir imagines in his mind when he thinks summer camp cabins would look. Made of dark logs and an equally dark log roofing, and with a cute porch out in front of them. They have the same cosy yet messy feeling that the office had as well.

He feels a small squeeze to his hand, and he looks down at Peni, his larger hand is dwarfing her smaller one, yet it feels so right to be able to hold it and Noir feels his chest tighten with affection as he looks at his daughter. She's chewing on her bottom lip, and though there's still a steady pressure to the hand that's holding hers, she's not looking at Noir at all. It's like she's doing it unintentionally, using their connected hands as a way to ground herself, and she probably is. Noir looks back around the cabin area they've entered. The tour has already taken the better half of 45 minutes to get through the large area that is The Spider Society. 

It's really not such a wonder that Peni is probably overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the place. Noir squeezes a firm squeeze back, and it immediately alleviates the pressure on his hand, not that it was ever too much to bear, Peni is still only 14 after all. 

“How are you holding up pumpkin?” Noir swings their arms between them as they walk “Do you need a break.” He asks, not wanting the younger girl to become too overwhelmed if it can be avoided. 

Lyla is a bit further in front of them than she was a minute ago, still talking about the facilities. Peni uses the distance to really cling onto her dads arm and bury her face in it as she mumbles out a “No is’ fine,” while not looking particularly fine in Noir's professional opinion. He leaves her be regardless.

“This building in front of you is the horse stables, we currently have about 6 different horses and ponies that are stabled here year round, and then a couple extra during the summer months” Lyla explains as they get to the largest building they've seen yet. It's also the only building that's made of bricks instead of wood, so the red colour really stands out. “And on the other side, that we can’t currently see from where we are standing unfortunately, is the outdoor riding course” They stop next to the building while the older woman is explaining. “Im sure youll see lots of this building during your stay here though, little spider” This is directed at Peni, and Lyla hold eye contacts before she gives the building a couple of claps, like one would a horse, and then turn around to move towards a more secluded, final log cabin that's been almost entirely hidden by the stables up until now. 

There's a pleased rumble in Noir's chest as he slowly puts the pieces together. They haven't yet stopped to dump any of Penis stuff off at one of the bigger collection of cabins, which means that this lonely cabin that's laying out of the way, all on its own, must be the cabin that Peni is assigned to. It really could not have been planned any better, and any lingering doubts about sending Peni here, has immediately been dispelled and replaced with nothing but praise and good thoughts in his mind, toward Miguel and his staff. 

Noir has had one short conversation on the phone with the camp director. A tired sounding man, with one hell of a husky voice that might be a tad bit intimidating to anyone who isn't trained to work with exactly that kind of individual. But during their brief talk Noir mentiend big crowds of people making Peni overwhelmed, and it seems like Lyla was correct in the office earlier, that man really does look out for his kids. 

It turns out that there's a smaller cabin hiding behind the one that's intended for the camp goers. I can probably only hold one to two people at a max if Noir is being generous. 

There is a feeling of anticipation split between two people in the group, as they near the cabin. Noir sends a reassuring smile down at Peni as they stop in front of the cabin. Even through the closed door, the sound of someone moving things around inside is clear to make out in the otherwise quiet clearing. 

“This here is the only single cabin we have in the whole camp” There is an extra emphasis on the word whole as Lyla invites them onto the porch. “And this is where you'll be staying during the camp, as well as this early week too.” 

Just like that, it seems that whoever is inside the cabin has finally heard them, as all noise suddenly comes to an end. It gets a small smirk out of Lyla  and she steps away from where she was just standing in front of the door. “Speaking of the devil, this here-” Lyla stands straight with her right arm out towards the door, almost like she's presenting it like a magician's assistant. “-is Patrick O’Hara, the camp counsellor assigned to this area, and by coincidence that includes you too Peni.”

And out through the door steps a man, he does a little two finger salute, and nods his head at them. “Howdy”

“Like a cowboy?” “Like a cowboy!” 

One is said in an almost disbelieving voice, while the other is brimming with sheer excitement. Peni is basically jumping in place before the other man extends a hand to pick up some of the young girl's stuff,with an added little “hey there lil’ spider.” That seems to be the invitation Peni was waiting for, as the girl rushes to the other man's side, and starts to poke and prod at every little thing she can reach on his outfit. He really looks like a cowboy.

And holy cowboy, there's not a rational thought in Noir's brain as he takes in the other man's appearance. He's tall, taller than Noir by a good 10 cm at the very least, and Noir is sure that if was standing right next to him he'd feel absolutely crowded by the other man's sheer aura alone. He's carrying himself in a way that shows he knows exactly how to use the firm muscles Noir can spot, easily stretching the beige fabric of his button up, and showing off the perfectly sculpted legs in blue jeans. Fortunately (unfortunately, Noir cannot help but think) the button up isn't white, so the sweat, probably stemming from hard physical labour in the sun, that make it cling tightly to his upper body, gives no indication of what's underneath the shirt (much to Noir’s dismay). 

Noir will be the first to tell you that perhaps he hasn't really been on a date in a while (at least a couple of years), and it's not like bringing someone over for a single night of pleasure is really all that viable with a kid in the house. And between his job, and taking care of Peni when not at his job, he just doesn't have time for a relationship. So yeah maybe Noir is a bit more desperate now that he's actually faced with a moderately attractive human being, (who is definitely not his type, no not at all what are you talking about) and oh boy has it always been this warm in here. 

His face is really what does Noir in. It’s square with a strong jawline, that some would probably call cutting. Nice beard that accentuates his jawline, and a snazzy moustache. His skin is tan and there's obvious laughing lines all over his face, that make him look approachable despite his, everything else.  To crown it off, there's a large Cowboy hat sitting primly on brown, shoulder length hair. 

It's not like he's swooning like a teenager who just got their first crush, but damn, an attractive man sure is attractive. And hey did he mention the lack of anything even remotely spicy in his life. 

“Why don't we carry all your stuff inside. Since you're the first one here you get the privilege of choosing your bed.” The man- no Patrick said and walked through the door with an excited Peni following closely on his heels. The sight makes a soft feeling bloom in his chest, the Peni he's looking at right now is such a transformation from the version of his daughter this morning. 

With a last goodbye and thank you to Lyla he looks up the pink cat trolley Peni neglected to bring inside. With a fond smile he picks it up and trudges after the other two into the cabin.

~

Noir is leaning against the railing of the porch, supporting his weight on his arms as he surveys the calm of this corner of the camp. He doesnt let it show, when the sound of clicking from spurs reaches his ears. It doesn't take long for Patrick to cross the little distance to the porch railing, and soon Patrick is leaning against the railing too. One arm lazily slung over it and the other propped up, supporting his head in his hand. 

He's staring at Noir, the burning sensation of being observed is warmly rolling around in his skull, you don't become a good private investigator on just a whim. It's like The other man is trying to crack him open and just pour all of Noir out to inspect, it's strange to be on the receiving end of such a look for once. 

There's a lazy slime on Patrics face when Noir finally turns to look at him. Noir quirks up an eyebrow at the other man, but all that does is make the other man's smile gain a dangerous edge to it, as he bites the corner of his bottom lip, an inferring attractive action. Noir cannot be in any way attracted to Penis camp counsellor, that would just be straight (ha) up unprofessional. 

“So” Patrick's voice has a nice gruffness to it that Noir noticed earlier too, there's a teasing tint to it as he's only speaking to Noir though. “You're detective dad, eh”

“Not quite a detective, I'm a private investigator actually.” The correction gains him a snort, and Noir can’t help but feel a little offended “Po-tay-to, po-ta-to”  The cowboy responds, turning away from his earlier position on the railing to just look out across the camp like Noir did earlier. 

And now Noir can't help but feel a little annoyed, deep breaths, sometimes people do not actually know there's a difference. 

“It's not in fact “Po-tay-to,po-ta-to”” Noir does air quotes. “There's a difference in the way we are employed, and that means to some extent the length of our reins and loyalty. The education level is sometimes lower, this isn't me putting down detectives, but I didn't go all the way to get a bachelor in criminal justice for someone to say it's the same. Also I don't go through the hell that is the paperwork to get a state licence every two years just-” He takes a deep breath after that rant, just to take a look at Patricks face, and see a shit eating grin. 

“Y-you're having me on aren't you?” He accuses, pointing a finger smack dab in the middle of Patricks chest. That just gets him an amused chuckle in return, and Noir bristles and lets out an unbelieving huff. “What do you even get out of doing that, you don't even know me”

Patrick makes a show out of pretending to think about it, letting out a questioning humm before wrapping his hand gently around the finger that Noir is still pointing at his chest, and he pulls. 

The tug is so sudden that Noir lets out an embarrassing sound as he stumbles forward. They Are much closer than they were before, but there's still a good distance between them, but all that does is make Noir feel incredibly small when Patricks eyes find his. “Maybe,” brown eyes roam over Noir's face, a strange swirl of anger and embarrassment flicker through his chest and all the way through his limbs. “I just had a theory that you'd look absolutely scrumptious all riled up.” The teasing tilt is back in the smile, and Noir almost feels like he's being eaten alive by those eyes. “And would you look at that, adorable.” The cowboy bites at the air beside Noir's head, and that's when he pulls himself free and makes sure to back a metre or two backwards. 

Noir isn't proud of the amalgamation of things he feels that his body is now making aware of. His shoulders are hitched high and he's cradling his left arm close like it's the single most safe place in the world. Despite his obvious defensive stance, he feels warm anger roll through him, however, the deep red that paints his neck and face, Noir cant even lie and pretend it's the anger. There's a stupid part of him, that's intrigued, and that warm shame and embarrassment is what is currently making him lightheaded and red. He feels like hes overheating, and if it wasnt because it would only be another source of fire on that is Patrick fucking O’Hara, Noir keeps his trenchcoat firmly on. 

“You-” Whatever he meant to say never comes as his voice breaks like he's a teenager going through puberty again. If he wasn't already burning up, he's sure the embarrassment would have been visible. “You are such an asshole” He does his best to glare at Patrick.

The bastard just lifts his hands like he's innocent in this whole charade. “Ey, i'm not the one whos gonna pass out, by the look of your complexion” 

And that's the final straw, Noir stomps back into the cabin, gives a bewildered Peni a tight goodbye hug and then he gets the hell out of there. Not before catching a tame finger kiss blown his way by Patrick that he does his best to ignore. 

It's stupid, Patrick is stupid and invasive, and there's no part of Noir that likes any part of Patrick, no siree, the soft warm feeling isn't there at all. The thrum of adrenaline he never noticed is disappearing and it only leaves a tight yet soft feeling in its wake, anticipation. Not that he's anticipating seeing the other man again, he's toying with someone's feelings for fun, that's major no no behaviour. And yet he was so gentle with Peni.

Noir gets to his car with conflicted emotions, a wish that he will never see Patrick again, that he's a bit too uncomfortable reading further into, out of fear of uncovering his own terrible lies, and drives off.

Chapter Text

There's a lot of things you come to experience when you start working with children. It seems that people always hold their kids in the absolute highest regard, because “oh no little Thomas would never terrorise another kid like that, mister camp counsellor, oh no he's our little gold nugget.” Every time Patrick heard those words, or something along the same tracks, it made him want to rip out his hair. Getting offered a job and house, with no prior experience or schooling, sure sounds like a great deal when you've been living on the streets all your life, and are at the end of the line. But dear god there's some days Patrick just wanna wish himself back to that day, so he can firmly shoot Miguel down, no counsellor job for him, thank you.

But he's not back to 5 years ago, when he was 24 and either shitfaced in an alleyway somewhere, or halfway starving to death, before Miguel found him and picked him up by the scruff of his neck. Now he has a pretty respectable job, not the most well paying, but it beats not being paid at all, plus he gets to have a little cabin of his own, and a constant supply of food for both himself and Widow.

Being a camp counsellor at a camp with focus on outdoor living, had never been his childhood dream. But much of those would not have been reachable even if he'd never ended up here. He wanted to be an astronaut and a toymaker, and when his brother went to the military, he subsequently wanted to follow in his brother's footsteps. But that never came to pass, so now Patrick gets to deal with terrible demon children, and their worse terrible demon parents.

Patrick has a hypothesis that all children carry a little demon inside of them that just craves chaos, till they start to get older and their brains develop. It's the easiest way to explain the sheer amount of kids with a wicked thing for burning ants and beetles with magnifying glasses (where do they even get em from? Heck if Patrick knows), and meticulously pulling legs and wings off of still squirming bugs. It's the most terrifying thing to notice, and then just stand back for a good second or two to take in the looks of pleasure and satisfaction, on the faces of those little demons. There isn't really a big thing Patrick can even do to punish the pests, it's really not an offence that's bad enough, where he gets the pleasure of making a call to somewhere in Costa Rica (which makes the phone bill enormous), to interrupt a perfectly good spa massage, to tattle on the damn rats.

But Patrick has resigned himself to the fate that half of the kids he ever get to interact with, tends to have some deep rooted thirst for bugs suffering (he's definitely inflating the number a little bit, but he's just tired of needles suffering. Sue him). And a stern talking to, generally makes Patrick their least favourite counsellors, and by proxy does that Patrick rarely has to actually interact with them. Miguel and Lyla generally also do their best to shield him from the worst they get, which Patrick appreciates, but he also wishes they'd stop babying him. He's an adult, he should be able to deal with a couple of unruly kids. Whenever he actually tries to argue that, they just start talking about how he “suffered some unchecked trauma stemming from his childhood” and that “it's best for his mental health if he just has time to really relax and not be on guard all the time”, whatever that's supposed to mean.

Those weren't even the worst of the bunch, it was just the baseline for evil desires in children (nor that Patrick really has anything against them, at the end of the day they are still children, and sometimes outrage is the only way to get attention from adults). There has been some terrible cases before Miguel and Lyla put him on special care duty, like that one time a little redhead would constantly put bugs in his sandwich or drop spiders into his morning coffee, and to this day Patrick still doesn't know if he's supposed to feel sorry for himself or those poor insects. There was another little rat who Patrick caught with a pair of scissors, about to cut a few inches of the poor stable cat's tail, safe to say those scissors plus anything else sharp he could find around the camp had quickly been put on the highest shelf. Another good one he brings up when people ask, is the little rascal who got his hands on hairspray from one of the older girls, and was in the process of spraying it into the bonfire because he wanted to “blow up the forest”. They had promptly called his parents.

Those are just some of the most extreme cases that Patrick can remember, and even if there's definitely something the parents need to talk to little Timmy about, they're still just kids. As previously stated, Patrick got moved to special care duty, which was made specifically for Patrick, but which benefited a lot of the kids who struggled. Like those whose voices sometimes just failed, and you'd just have to play charades to figure out how they were feeling (Patrick has taken up learning some sign language, and while he can't boast with being a professional it's leagues better than just guessing). He got the kids who disappear into themself when it all becomes too much, those who struggle with speaking because they are shy, and those who just need the downtime of a smaller group.

It's something he prides himself on, being able to be there for kids who don't have the privilege of just being able to wing it, and who sometimes just need a helping hand. That's who Patrick is to them, because that's what he wished he had when he was their age, so nothing is going to stop him from giving these little ones some solid ground to stand on.

While the rest of the camp would eat meals together in the big cafeteria from time to time, Patrick would arrive early at the kitchen to pick up enough food for his little group of campers, and then they'd all either gather into the sleeping cabin, or just sit in a circle in Patricks little cabin, and eat together.

It was a blessing to work with these children, while some might call them difficult, and perhaps get annoyed at the fact that things just had to be done in a different tempo, Patrick relishes in it. He gets to just sit and watch as these kids figure out how best to use a knife, sometimes just watching each other as one of them cuts a long smooth piece of bark off a stick, and then they all celebrate, and that's how a day is spent. No stressful activities, no going back and forth, no having to stress the kids to learn it here and now. Just him and the kids.

They're the only ones who get the privilege of getting to groom his horse, Widow. No other kids in the whole camp are as gentle, or make sure to check, and double check, and even triple check from time to time, that the horse is sufficiently groomed. It gets them the privilege of being the only ones who get to ride her as well.

Widow is the only good thing he has left from life before Miguel took him in, and he would commit real atrocities if anything were to happen to her. While he is a regular riding instructor, and sometimes orchestrates riding lessons for the kids that want to in the afternoon, Widow is just his to ride (and the kids of his cabin of course). Anhe does ride her, it's his way of destressing and just coming down from being around children all day, because even though they are a joy to be with, Patrick needs his own space too.

Doesn't help that some of the kids get homesick or nightmares every once in a while, and then Patrick will be pulling out the extra mattress that's hidden away under one of the beds for this exact purpose, and then hell read them bedtime stories until they fall asleep, and hell sleep in there with them to make them feel safe.

On very rare occasions (as in this has happened twice in his 5 years of working here), a kid will come to his cabin in the dead of night, either crying or dead silent. In the first case, the little brunette had thrown herself at Patrick as soon as he was semi upright in bed, and she had gotten snot and tears all over his sleep shirt, but had relaxed immediately when he began stroking her back and scratching her hair. As soon as she fell asleep, which wasn't long after, he resigned to his fate and let her snuggle into the blankets as he got up to do some paperwork, not the first night he'd barely gotten any sleep and certainly not the last. Come morning, the girl clung to his pant legs and wouldn't let go, even when asked nicely, so once again Patrick resigned to his fate and they just ended up making a little bonfire and relaxing.

The second girl who came to him, just sat on his bed, no clutching the bedsheets, no holding onto patricks arm. She just sat there, in eerie silence. Nothing he said seemed to really get through to her, and he didn't wanna just move her around or touch her without consent, so he ended up pulling her a bit further back so she could just sit up against the pillow he propped up behind her, and then he started singing to her. Songs he'd heard his mother sing to him and his brother once. It didn't make her fall asleep, but after about an hour, when Patricks throat was starting to feel raw from overuse, she seemed to come back to herself. She still hadn't been verbal, but Patrick had wrapped her up in his blanket and just began telling her stories. It went on for a good chunk of the night, and by the end of it Patrick felt absolutely drained. He had to call in a favour with Lyla, and she gladly took over the kids for the day.

He really goes above and beyond for these kids, because he cares about them and their wellbeing.

Which brings him to this very moment, sitting in his office pretending to do some paperwork that isnt due for at least another week, watching Peni subtly out of the corner of his eyes. She was here a week before actual camp started, and because Patrick generally didn't help with the final touches to get the camp ready for the massive influx of kids, he was chosen to watch over the little spider. He had also noted on the application, that she would be placed in his little group when camp actually started up, getting some early bonding in probably wasn't the worst.

The first time she saw him she'd been starstruck, which was a pretty normal occurrence. Kids had to see what generally looked like a real life cowboy, and she was simply adorable as he helped her carry various bags inside the cabin. That starstruck expression had then promptly been discarded after Patrick had, let's say, greeted her father, but they had made swift work of getting all her stuff unpacked and situated.

He noticed she had a whole bag of electronics, and other little knick knacks, which wasn't technically allowed at camp, but hell camp didn't start before next week, so he let her keep it. Among the things there was also a tiny freakin robot- How had a young girl like her gotten her hands on something like that?

When her asked her about it, she simply glared at him like he was the stupid one for asking, and replied that “That's SP//dr ofcourse, couldn't just leave him home alone now could i” she turned her back to him and fiddled with whatever else was in her blue backpack and that had been that. Patrick had very promptly left after that, taking the dismissal for what it was.

Which brings him once again back to now, with his paperwork that he's pretty sure it's not actually doing, watching Peni sitting on his bed playing some game on her handheld system. Back against the wall, socked feet (at least she had the decency to take off her shoes so as to not dirty up his sheets) splayed lazily out in front of her, playing her game and ignoring him.

When he went back to his own cabin he made sure to make the stuffed alpaca door stopper was holding the door open (it was a christmas gift he'd gotten from Lyla during his second christmas here), presenting it as an open invitation for the kid to join him if she didn't wanna hang out alone. Which she had, as per their current situation.

“I know when adults are pretending to be busy so they can watch me”

Patrick zones back in on the kid at the sudden sound in the otherwise quiet room. She hasn't changed her position at all, and if it wasn't because he briefly made eye contact with her before she was deeply focusing back on her game, Patrick would be willing to believe he was just tricking himself into believing he had heard something.

It was a pretty freaky statement to hear from a kid her age though, how often had she been subject to people practically spying on her, for it to be so easy to clock in for her? It's not really like Patrick can undo whatever happened either way though, so with a deep sigh, he puts down the papers he was pretending to read, and turns his chair a little in the other direction so it's harder for him to purposefully do it again, and attempt to actually read the papers this time.

It works for a whole 5 minutes before the feeling of someone staring holes into the side of his head, makes him look up. And wow that kid has a seriously intense stare, almost as bad as her dad but not quite, which isn't fully a surprise seeing as her dad is a private investigator.

She's standing at the edge of the desk, just staring. The intensity of it makes Patrick want to scrum in his seat, he doesn't because he's had a good long time to gain an immunity to kids trying to get the upper hand with the use of intimidation. But still it gets him damn close.

Schooling his face into one of professional indifference, he folds his hands in front of him on the desk and meets her gaze head on.

“What did you do to my dad?” Peni asks, voice cold and accusing. Her gaze doesn't falter, but Patricks does, and hes forced to look away briefly. Even though its asked like a question, Patrick knows its not. Its demanding an explanation, and that would includes thinking about a man that Patrick would very much rather not think about. Theres a little flicker of anger coming to life, at the sheer audacity she has to just outright asking him about it, but he quickly squashes it down, shes just concerned about her dad.

“I didn't do anything to him” Patrick just says matter of factly, now turning completely away from the girl, and starts to stack his papers together. He's beginning to feel a little queasy now that he actually thinks about how he sent the other man practically running to get away from him, just hours earlier. And abort mission, no thinking about kinda pretty men in trenchcoats, who could rip his heart out of his chest, throw it on the ground and stomp on it and Patrick would thank him.

No more.

It doesn't seem to be the answer Peni was looking for, and all Patrick can do is hold onto the armrests on his desk chair, as one very determined 14 year old turns his chair back towards her with terrifying intensity. Two small arms come down on his armrests, and now Patrick is caged in on his own chair, by an angry kid. She's not just looking annoyed now, she's looking straight up angry, and yeah Patrick is just a little intimidated.

“What did you do to my dad?” she asks again, tone icy cold. “He always smothers me whenever he leaves, not like,” She thinks about the right words, her face scrunching up. “Running away” Peni actually looks sad at the admission, and ok yeah now Patrick feels like an asshole. It's pretty obvious that there's some stuff going on in Penis head, and even the most independent of kids takes their time to say goodbye to their parents, so shit, Patrick really took that away from her didn't he. Great going O’Hara.

He breethes deeply, because it seems like thats not been a priority while hes been having this conversation, and lets himself fall back into his chair.

“Get off my chair kid, this is an adult only zone.” It doesn't seem to appece the teenager, but at least she sees that hes given up fighting it. She shuffles to the front of the desk, where a normal kitchen chair is standing, and sits on it and then levels him with a stare, clearly demanding an explanation.

“I don't know what you want me to say” Patrick confesses, his eyes are closed. Thinking about how he probably fucked up a little bit and its very much his own fault, and the stink eye hes been getting from a little girl are not doing great things to his insides.

He kinda feels like puking.

“Do you really wanna play psychiatrist with an old man” He jokes. “You're younger than dad” Is her response, and that actually startles him enough to open his eyes again and look at Peni. She doesn't look as angry any more, but she's still just looking at him, and damn he guesses this is it, he really is playing psychiatrist with a 14 year old.

“This isn't gonna be a sob fest, about how I'm a tragic person and that's why I do the things I do.” Patrick holds up his hand to count reasons, and her eyes follow the motion. “One, because that's not why,” here he lifts one finger, “and two, because I'm not gonna share intimate details about my private life with a camp goer.” He makes sure to stress the last part. What can he say, he's a professional, and as much as Peni might like to have reasons behind why he was an ass to her dad, he doesn't owe her anything.

There's a small nod, so Patrick continues. “I showed interest in your dad and he wasn't interested so he left.” It's a half truth, and Patrick feels a little bad about trying to deceive her, but as per the aforementioned dynamic between them, she doesn't need to know.

Patrick is quite proud of himself, and he sits back in the chair happy that the conversation is over. What he doesn't expect is for the girl to just burst out laughing. Like she is bent over the table, holding her stomach as high wheezes escape her mouth. With a small finger she brushes a tear away, and fails a couple of times to get words out. It's first when the wheezes stop that she can get out, “so you're a comedian now too?” and with a sudden change in demeanour, in a harsher tone she says “Do you really expect me to believe that? That you'll be perfectly nice to me and then you'll somehow, show interest in my dad, in a way that has him storming off”

Her stare is once again ice, it kinda scares Patrick a little how fast it can change, even the air quotes she did was kinda intimidating.

Well shucks, maybe he's gonna have to spill some of that psychoanalysis Lyla did on him.

“Ok whatever. So Lyla said that because of some trauma,” he lets out a little mocking laugh “in my childhood, and that sometimes when people try to get close-” Patrick pauses to take a deep breath. “-You push them away” Peni finishes for him.

He's a little shocked that someone else is able to finish it, to know what he's feeling. He lets out a weak “yeah…” and Peni gives him a wry smile, no longer looking as confident as she did before. The question must be clear on his face, as Peni answers in a meek tone before he even has to ask. “I overheard my caseworker and dad talking about it one day. Something about self sabotage”

They sit in silence for a bit, Peni has retracted a little into herself, whatever memory was brought up with the knowledge seemingly too much for her to handle at the moment. Patrick just sits and stares at his desk, it's not really something he even has the brain capacity to process right now. Having an actual word for how he feels is such a rarity, and hell, who thought he'd be trauma bonding with the daughter of a man whose buttons he purposefully pushed.

It's times like these where he really misses cheap grocery alcohol.

“Listen” Peni’s voice is low, the fight has clearly left her by now. “I don't hate you for it, I don't even recent you.” She makes a point to make eye contact with him, and Patrick feels a little touched. “But you have to apologise to my dad, you have to let him know that you didn't mean to, that it wasn't on purpose.” And yeah Patrick could do that, but he's gonna be seeing mr detective at the end of summer camp when he's picking Pani up and then they'll never see eachother again, so what's the point?

He tries to ignore the dull stab of pain in his chest at the thought.

“If you don't, I'll never forgive you for hurting him.” Peni is pouting, and her cheeks are cutely filled with air so she looks like a cute squirrel, and damn now he's got to at least agree to her terms.

“Sure, fine, whatever” he eloquently gets out, and then it's like all the tension in the room disappears, as Peni sends her first smile his way since their very first meeting.

So maybe he's just gonna be a bit more serious about making it right with her dad, if only to get her to look that happy again.

“Does that mean you like my dad?” She's stood up from the chair and is leaning on the dest towards him, a glimmer of excitement in her eye.

And there she goes a peg down Patricks ‘people i like list’. He does a big show of rolling his eyes, and this time as he picks up the documents on the table it's actually to collect them and put them away.

“Listen kid I can't like your dad after meeting him one time, love at first sight isn't actually real. I just find him attractive that's all, and I'm not talking about this with a child in any further details.” Peni opens her mouth to protest, but Patrick holds up a hand to stop her. “Ah ah end of discussion.” And with that he turns around and stores the files away in his cabinet.

When he turns around again, Peni is looking halfway split between being disappointed and having some terrible idea in the works. Without thinking too hard about it Patrick asks “wanna meet Widow?” Just to nip whatever she's planning in the bud.

It shouldn't be possible, but Patrick watches on in amusement as the girl practically lights up with glee. She throws out a hurried “yes” before she's launched herself back towards his bed and shows the game system into its pink case, and then before Patrick could give her any more instructions she's out the door.

Patrick just lets out an amused chuckle, it's so easy to distract their minds from causing mischief when they're that age, simply mention any animal and they're gone.

With a bit too much care than is necessary, Patrick pushes the alpaca back in its spot beside the cabinet and closes the door, making sure to turn off the light before he heads over to the cabin Peni just sprinted back to.

~~~~~

There's many things Noir loves about his job. He loves that he's helping people, like really helping them, by getting dangerous people off the streets and into a cell. Sometimes it's less glamorous of course, when he has to track tax fraud, or find out where he embezzled money ended up. Many people might not know or think about it in their day to day life, but Noir isn't in the business, just to get lathered in praise.

He loves the nights where he barely sleeps because he's just one good piece of evidence away from sealing their fate. Where it almost seems like life and death, and where the reminder of what they've done, what they've put other people through, is much better than caffeine to keep him awake.

He loves gathering evidence, and he loves that he can do it alone. There's power in being informed, to have the upper hand and know something your enemy does not. Damning evidence, or a ‘trap card’ as Peni had once called it.

What Noir doesn't love is trudging down the dreary grey hallways of the police station. There's just something pretty depressing about having to show up here instead of being in the comfort of his own home or out and about. But that's not a nicety Noir can afford when it's the start of a case. That is his least favourite moment of working cases in general. Just the lack of any knowledge always makes Noir feel a little exposed.

Being a private detective is all about having information after all, so when he has none.. Yeah you get the picture.

So here he is, walking towards the meeting room to get a team briefing about whatever sorry scamp decided to get involved with the underbelly of society.

Noir lets out a deep breath, steeling himself and schooling his face to careful neutrality, as he enters the meeting room.

~

It's a pretty standard case all things considered. The whole thing is regarding a new drug ring that has popped up on the lower east side and some big shot businessman has decided that drugs are cool actually, as long as he gets a large cut of the profits. At least that's what the hypothesis is as of now, there's no solid evidence to pin the suspicious larger amount of cocaine that has seemed to enter the area as of late.

The guy is a sad sod by the name Preston Chudwell, as if a name could get any more posh than that, and he's a CFOs at a large company who handles out-of-state shipping. According to the few people they've been talking to who work under him, and are also willing to talk, his demeanour has changed marginally the past few weeks. His normally sullen mood has been turned completely on its head, and he's now almost bragging about his position, to some he has even been insinuating that he might be going up the ranks. In the file that Noir is currently reading there's a few newspaper clippings of big boats and a couple of new estates, bought by the one and only Preston Chudwell. Things that are definitely out of his normal price range based on the lower rate luxuries he owns, before this strange boom.

The police were at a loss about what to do, and that's generally where they call Noir, or at the very least someone like him. So while the police try to get the drugs floating around on the market to recede, Noir is tasked with getting whatever he can on this fella, and hopefully set a stopper to one of their import options.

So as Noir gets home that night, he gets out all the files and documents he got in the folder, and spreads them out on the dining table. It's large and made of a dark brown wood, way too large for just the two people who normally take up residence in this house, that's why there's a smaller, white table in the kitchen with perfect space for two. But Noir is getting sidetracked, a large table is good for getting an overview. And that's exactly what he's getting.

The first night is normally spent awake for hours and hours, pouring over the various files, and writing notes that Noir thinks are of importance to the case. This time he's done to the point where his eyes are beginning to droop, and the words on the pages don't make any sense in relation to what he's read before.

That is where he goes to the kitchen, there's always something edible in here, be it actual nutritious food that Noir likes, or the large variety of snacks that Peni makes sure is on the shopping list every time they have to go. It makes Noir feel fond, a dull beating of his heart as he thinks about his daughter with his head in the fridge, halfways convinced it's a good idea to fall asleep leaning against the cold shelves in there.

It's not like Noir is really all that hungry, more so just hungering for a good 3-4 hours of sleep and then to kiss his daughters forehead in the morning, which, yeah that's not possible he reminds himself, as he gives his head a little shake, just to make sure he doesn't actually fall asleep.

Thinking about Peni makes him want to eat even less, but then he spot a small one portion peach melba yoghourt that Peni absolutely had to get a couple of “because dad, don't they just look delicious, plus its yoghourt that's better for me than cereal.” Noir is not sure that claim is even remotely true, but she had used those puppy eyes that made her eyes shine, and dammit he couldn't resist. When they'd gotten home however, she had eaten one spoonful of the stuff and then loudly proclaimed that she didn't like it so she would eat no more.

The yoghourt had gone bad sitting on the table, but the memory here and now warms Noirs heart, so he gets the little cup out of the fridge and eat it in record time before crashing on the couch.

~

Sun is shining directly into his eyes when Noir wakes up. He blinks a little to get the burn of not enough sleep to leave, when he rolls a bit too far to the left the couch simply stops going and Noir ends up on the floor with a painful “ompf”

He stays on the floor for longer than necessary, trying to rub away the headache that's in full force already. When he finally gets back on the couch, his whole body feels weighed down by sleep (or is it the lack of it), and when he gets a look at his phone it's to the digital clock displaying the time 12:37.

Noir struggles to get up from the couch, and fast. He was supposed to be scouting out the guy today, but right now he's just gonna be holed up in that gigantic office building of his. Noir only has a short moment to lament what brought him to this very moment of his life, as his phone lights up again and his ringtone rings out in the empty living room. He picks it up immediately, with a “Noir speaking”

“Hi this is Lyla” oh he wonders what she's calling for, he just dropped off Peni yesterday. “I'm sorry to call you this Noir, but Peni got injured, and I think you're gonna have to come to the camp-”

Chapter Text

The phone hangs limply in his hand, as the faraway sound of lylas voice gets drowned out by a ringing in Noir's ears. An injury? Already? But Peni has only been at camp for a day, and how bad does an injury have to be for the camp to call the parents?? Noir shakes his head, trying to get rid of the ringing and sudden vertigo he feels. He sits back down on the worn couch he just slept on, and brings the phone back up to his ear. It is silent on the other line, static is the only sound to be heard. Then comes a tentative “... Hello?... Noir, are you still there?...” Actually hearing the woman's voice, seems to finally snap him out of his stupor. He clears his throat and takes a steading breath before answering the Camp coordinator

“...yeah…” is all he gets out. Noir's voice is scratchy from terrible sleep and just waking up, he winces at the way talking makes his throat feel raw, and the concern for his daughters safety just aids to his heightened senses. “..I heard what you said, i'll be there as fast as i can.” There's no arguing with the tone of voice, Noir knows, it's the same one he uses when he's interrogating particularly tricky suspects and crooks, it shows who's really in charge.

There's a cut off “hey-” and then noir ends the call, already halfway standing up from the couch, phone clenched way too tightly in his hand, as he makes his way towards the kitchen. His papers are just as messily strewn across the large dinner table as it was the evening before. Noir lets out a deep sigh that he really doesn't have time for, and ets on with collecting all the various pages connected to the case. There's probably gonna be a couple of spare moments where Noir can sit down and look at the case while they wait at the hospital-

And seize that thought.

Noir puts a steadying hand on the table, the other he holds across his eyes. When it comes to Peni, there's a part of him that wants to freak out, so imagine the worst possible scenarios, to the great delight of absolutely no one. Right now the only thing keeping him grounded to this moment, and which is the only reason he can at least somewhat keep his panicking at bay, is the feeling of rough wood textures under his palm. There's a tiny piece that's gotten loose over the years of use the table has seen, and it's now digging into the soft flesh of Noir's hand. There's no deep breaths, or spreading thoughts, as he withdraws his hand and goes back to looking at the papers.

With far less precision than before, Noir scrapes the last of the papers together, and places them haphazardly into the file binder. He takes a moment to just stare at the bent edges and the mess of colours that assembling something colour coded, makes. The different parts of information have different colours, it's something Noir has always needed, to not get lost in the absolute mountain of information.

He lets out an unintentional sigh, and drags his eyes away from the file. He's in a rush, there was a reason he went about this so haphazardly. With a brisk walk he gets to the door, snags the keys from the bowl on the side table (it's got a cute kitty charm on it, that says Stay PAWsitive. Peni got it for him for his birthday one year), and went out the door to the car. It's time to see his daughter.

~~~~~
“What do you mean it's just a sprained ankle?” is the first and only coherent word to leave Noir’s mouth. They're not the most considerable Noir can admit in the back of his mind, but he just feels so light from relief at the fact that Peni is relatively unharmed, that watching his words towards Lyla becomes a second priority.

“Well if you had listened to what i was telling you over the phone, you'd know it wasn't anything severe”, Lyla says matter of factly. Her annoyance is displayed loud and clear through her body language. Arms crossed body closed off and a tired scowl on her face.

Noir winces inwardly. Lyla really doesn't deserve his shit attitude, not when she's the one who took time out of her schedule to patch up his kid and call him.

“It's just camp policy-” she shrugs. “-we call the parents at even the slightest of injuries, just to keep them up to date”.

Noir nods and drags a hand across his face, as if that could make all the negative emotions disappear. It somewhat helps, and when he looks at the other woman again he musters up a wry smile. “Of course, of course” He shakes his head and lets a hand fall onto Peni's shoulder. She barely glanced up from her chair, her left leg propped up on another chair right in front of her. “I'm sorry, you're right Lyla, I might have slightly overreacted.” Noir apologies.

That just makes her crack a smile, “oh believe me i am well acquainted with overbearing parents, you aren't even the worst i've had to deal with.” Lyla loosens up a bit more, and the smile stays on her face as she talks. WHile she might be used to cases like these, with parents barging in, worried about their little Timmy, Noir can't help but still feel a little bad. “Still there wasn't a reason for me to even come here if id just listened on the phone” That just seem to crack Lyla up more, and she shakes her head as she makes her way over to where Noir and Peni are situated near one of the desks in the office. She lightly taps the side of Noir's head with a stack of documents she's holding, and gives Peni’s hair a good ruffle as she walks past them.

She turns around when she's at her own desk. “Noir it's fine really, and now that you're here, you can spend some time with your daughter” She says in a cheerful voice.

And welp, she took the words right out of Noir's mouth. He looks down at his daughter. She's playing a game on her nintendo switch, the many colours making noir's eyes hurt a bit if he's being honest, so he moves his focus back to Peni. She doesn't seem worse for wear, when Noir had stormed into the office not even 15 minutes ago, he had been shocked at the scene he had been presented with.

Peni had been animatedly talking to a man Noir had never seen before, but from context clues could guess it was probably Miguel. At first glance he looked to be deeply entranced in his work, and not hearing or caring about a word Peni was saying. But if you looked a little closer you could see a small smile on his lips, and the occasional tiny nod of his head, as Peni made an extra compelling point, or mentioned something about one of the new games she got right before vacation. Lyla was there as well, at her leg, she had been nodding along as well as shed made sure the towel under Penis leg was situated correctly, and then pushing down a frozen bag of peas to the young girl's swollen ankle. His grand entrance had allerted both the girls, and when Noir finally got to fuzz over Peni, so much that she started batting his hands away, Lyla told him what had happened after Peni had been handed her switch.

During the last minute work on setting up the camp, and getting ready for all the new campers to move in, various pieces of equipment had been laying around a bit recklessly, and as Peni had been exploring the camp grounds, shed forgotten to see where she was going, and then prompt collide with some tools that were leaning up against a cabin, and in during the fall she had landed strangely on her foot, resulting in it being sprained. While all of the camp counsellors and other workers all got long courses on workplace safety and the likes, sometimes things just slip. And this was one of such slips. Another of the camp counsellors had heard Peni’s cry of pain, as she fell, Jess was her name, and she had led Peni to Lyla.

Now that Noir is looking down at his daughter, he feels extra guilty for just panicking and acting without reason. He's supposed to be calculated and think all facts through before he commits to an action. But there's a part of him that isn't a detective, that's just glad Peni is ok, and that if something truly happened, he would have been here fast.

He strokes a hand through her hair, his black leather gloves he discarded in the car when the chaos made the fabric too warm and clammy to drive. It's perfect for this moment right here. Noir lets the soft black strands just glide seamlessly through his fingers, not a knot in sight, and he basks in the warm feeling of adoration that courses through him when she leans her head against his stomach, for better efficiency. The feeling is the same no matter how many times the hair slides through, though at some point the constant tingling of nerves, make a prickling sensation start up in his fingers. He switched to carding through the hair with two hands, and when he looks down, Peni has completely abandoned her game in favour of leaning all her weight against Noir, you died flashes across the screen. He feels a smile creep up his face, there's something so precious about just having these moments with his daughter.

They're left out of their own devices, no words need to be spoken to convey love and comfort, simply just being together, exchanging physical affection is enough.

It doesn't last forever though, and when Peni starts twitching lightly, her hands reaching for her gaming device, it's easy to follow her thought process. It's not that she's addicted to her various gaming devices and can't go without, she just feels restless a lot and her hands crave something to do, it's a thing Noir understood about the young girl very shortly after meeting her.

When her hands finally make contact with the switch in her lap, Noir untangles his finger from their place in his daughter's now very messy, black hair. He smooths his hands down her hair to make it look at least somewhat presentable, and then he lets her sit back up straight, her back smooth against the backrest and attention glued to her game.

Shaking some stiffness out of his body from standing in one position for a while, he looked around the mostly abandoned office. Miguel had returned to his work the moment Noir stepped through the door, and was now seemingly deeply invested in reading whatever papers were being displayed on his computer screen. Feeling a little out of place for just a minute, Noir wondered what the best course of action would be. The day was already called for, he's not gonna be able to stake out mr. moneybags before he got out of work, which would be at least a couple of hours longer. There was of course a whole case file perfectly situated on the passenger seat of his car, and as he observed earlier, the office really was mostly empty with multiple desks standing without an occupant.

Without wasting any time Noir turned to face Miguel fully, but he was shocked to see the other man already watching him intensely. He truly is a force to be reckoned with huh, Noir thought to himself, and tried not to make it too outwardly obvious that he had gotten spooked. Those eyes…

“You can use one of the spare desks” Miguel said, his voice sounding almost borderline bored, but there was an edge of finalisation and authority there that told Noir when he spoke, the camp leader was to be respected. Noir nodded to himself, that wasn't a hard request to obey, so he gave Peni’s hair a last stroke and made his way to the car.

~~~~~

It wasn't hard to get everything set up to his standards. The desks in the office were deceptively large, and could easily hold all of Noirs papers, even when they were spread out. When he'd come back from the car, files in hand, Noir had chosen the desk closest to his daughter, so he could still be with her, while also getting his work done. What little clutter existed on the surface, he'd moved to a desk saturated further away. He was only glancing briefly in Miguel's direction, just to see if the other man had any objections to his move, but the camp leader was still deep in doing whatever he was doing on the computer, so Noir carried on with his task.

It was all in all pretty nice getting to look over this case with the occasional ‘click clacks’ of keyboard keys being pressed, and the frustrated sounds of Peni struggling with her game. It's not a thing Noir thinks he'd ever feel as comfortable in as he is right now. The few times he's been forced to do his paperwork at the station has been irritating and grating his nerves. The constant background chatter from nosy police officers, the sound of the old, way too loud coffee machine making whatever concoction they like to call coffee (it's not Noir have survived on it one too many sleepless nights at the ending of a case, and it doesn't taste like anything has ever had before), and the way too small and cramped desks, makes the experience pretty tiring. Which leads him to sitting alone in the most quiet room he can find, trying to make head and tail of the information. But this is nice too, he thinks to himself with a smile. Just him, his daughter and Miguel.

He grabbed a notebook from somewhere, it was empty when he opened the front page, so he doesn't think anyone is really gonna miss it, or care that he's writing down his thoughts in it. He's getting good work done, cross referencing and connecting some dots. Unfortunately in his haste to get out the door, he forgot his computer, so he's working with whatever physical evidence he brought and remembers, and his brain being able to piece things together. It's while he's massaging the bridge of his nose, trying to remember where he's seen a certain picture before it happens.

The sound of hushed voices gets carried to him from somewhere in front of him, a part of him (the private detective part) cries at the loss of focus on the crucial piece of evidence in favour of satisfying his creeping curiosity. The voice has got to be coming from where Peni is sitting, since he chose a desk that isn't just close to her, but also placed in such a way that he is looking directly at her, when he is sitting up straight. Miguel is placed too far left for the voices to be coming from there, plus one of them sounds more feminine.

A chill shoots down his spine when he finally looks up to identify the voices. There conversing with his daughter is none other than Patrick O’hara. He looks objectively worried, if the frown on his face and the crease between his eyebrows are to be believed. He's softly feeling the spot where the frozen peas are placed over, but Peni swats his hand away and he smiles a wry smile at something she says. Noir feels a soft inviting heat creep up his neck and warming his ears. He feels weird, just like last time when he saw the man and then consequently left in a hurry. His sin is a mix between goosebumps and an all encompassing heat, making him shake just the smallest amount. He wasn't expecting to see the man again so fast, having been blissfully ignorant of the other man's existance in his panic about Peni’s well being. And now here he is, Noir has to cover his mouth with a shaking hand to cover a traitorous smile. He did about the same thing when he first came in here fuzzing over his daughter. She promptly told him off, and it warms his heart to see her be so brazen and open with another adult, even if that happens to be an annoying cowboy.

He's staring,he knows he is, but Peni has a hard time just existing with other adults sometimes, and especially when she's not doing too well. So this is a sight for Gods, and Noir just wants to soak in as much as he can.

Peni laughs at something Patrick whispered to her, and Noir feels his eyes well up, just slightly, the pride and happiness of seeing her happy almost too much. It's enough sound that it gets Miguel's attention, and he briefly takes his eyes away from the screen to angle his chair their way. He makes eye contact with a smiling Patrick and nods in approval, and then he just gets back to work like nothing happened. Miguel is a strange man to be in proximity of, but Noir can respect the man.

Noir only directs his attention to the camp leader for what feels like second, but the moment he turns that attention back on his daughter and Patrick, he's met with intense dark brown eyes staring directly at him. They make eye contact for only a fraction of a second, but Patrick averts his eyes as soon as it seems to register who exactly it is he's looking at.

It's weird. After how he acted last time, Noir would have expected a cheeky smile and a flirty comment or some other deranged action. But then again, Patrick O’Hara really isn't anything like how Noir portrays him is in his head. Unfortunately that only seems to happen when he interacts with anyone who isn't Noir.

He doesn't feel disappointed that Patrick doesn't approach him, not at all, he can stay there all he wants, far away from Noir.

He does stay far away. All the way by Peni, who now that Noir is paying attention, is looking between them with the most disapproving stare he's ever seen, and he lives with her! She uses her good leg to kick her foot against Patricks shin, and he makes a kinda what? gesture with his shoulders, one that Peni does not seem pleased with at all. It seems like they've scrapped whispering, and just gone straight to nonverbally getting their respective points across.

It's kinda funny to watch in Noir's humble opinion, however he would feel a lot more safe, if Peni wasnt currently gesturing towards Noir's general direction with her head. On her face is still that disapproving stare, and it makes Noir feel just a little alarmed to not know what his daughter's motives are.

The silent staring contest goes on for a while, and eventually Noir gets bored of observing them , and with the nerves of whatever Peni has planned, going down by the minute, Noir slowly begins to go back to his work. He gets a little bit done here and there, nothing super relevant, but every smidgen of information is important in cases like these. He's keeping an ear out for Peni and Patrick , but it seems they got tired of gesturing only, as they've gone back to whispering at each other, just now with large arm movements added. In the end he completely tunes them out and just starts reading again.

That plan goes surprisingly well for a bit, he gets a 3rd though the page before a large figure casts a large shadow across the desk and makes the lighting significantly worse. Noir looks up from his paper, and there at the edge of his desk is none other than Patrick O’hara himself.

Noir knows what expression must be displayed on his face, one of pure shock. It only lasts a second but that's still enough time for Patrick to clearly clock it in, and it makes him a little braver. Instead of just hovering at the edge of the desk, the other man sits on the corner, he does not support all his weight against it though. Noir knows the signs of keeping an exit ready when he sees it.

Noir doesn't bother rewarding Patricks presence with more of a reaction than he already has, so he tries to go back to the paper, knowing damn well nothing if gonna get remembered at all. It's a fine strategy in theory, but it doesn't work so well in real life when the thing you want to ignore is a pain in the ass cowboy who's way too attractive for his own good.

One moment the papers are in his hands, he's holding them in such a way that no one would ever believe he was actually reading them, but a man can dream, and in the next the papers are unceremoniously plucked out of his grip. Noir glares up at the assailant, only to get halted when he notices the short proximity between their two faces. His mouth goes dry, he doesn't know if it's due to anticipation or uneasiness. He hopes it's the latter. (and deep inside he knows it's the former)

No sly comments come though, Patrick just gets out of his personal space, and really this Noir has no idea what to do with. He thought they had established a song and dance, but really he's seen the man all but once, of course it wouldn't be this predictable.

Patrick is loosely looking through the papers he just took from Noir. He lets out an unhappy noise and reaches out to get ahold of them again, they do contain confidential information that he can't just let any and all people read. Patrick, seemingly having predicted this move, just turns away from Noir's arms and promptly deposits the papers to a neighbouring desk.

Being a grown dignified adult, Noir tries not to slump over the table, but at the aborted snort that comes from Patrick, he knows he's not exactly the height of professionalism at the moment. It's very hard to be on edge around Patrick, there isn't even a real reason Noir could give as to why the other man is so non-threatening to be around, even after he's done something Noir should highly disapprove of. But he just exudes an air of calm and relaxation that draws Noir in.

However Noir hasn't been in this business for as long as he has, just to foolishly fall to his emotions. People are good at lying, for some it's their whole job, he's got to remember that.

“Detective” Patrick greets, and Noir has to keep down a brewing annoyance at that. Patrick 100% knows the difference, that's what he used as terrible teasing material last time. He just hums in response, not feeding into the teasing.

For a long time Patrick says nothing, and Noir feels a restlessness course through his body at being left in this uncomfortable silence. He glances up from where his head has been cushioned on his crossed arms on the table, and arches an eyebrow at the other man.

Partick looks, truth be told, pretty miserable. He's picking at his nails and just generally looking anywhere that isn't Noir. It's such a tonal switch and it knocks the air out of him a little bit.

“Just uh, you know..” He lets out a big sigh, and now Noir is a little more invested. They're talking about last time now huh. “Im- i just uh-”. It's obviously a struggle for him to get the words out. The fidgeting has gotten worse, and Patrick has started swaying his leg a little bit, which rocks the desk back and forth. He seems to settle on what words are right, because he clenches his hand and taps it onto his thought a couple of times before letting out another small sigh, and then finally making eye contact with Noir. “- im sorry ok.” The other man lets out a sharp laugh.

And ok, Noir wasn't really expecting an apology. “So we're just apologising now?” he asks, a bit more venom in his tone than he would have preferred. But well it's not like Patrick is completely off the hook after the whirlwind of feelings he left Noir with last time. Some are very complicated and angry, and some, well Noir is just glad he really hasn't had the private time to really think about how it made him feel.

“Yeah? Of course i am i- isn't that what you want?” Patrick asks. He's looking at Noir as if he just told him the sky is purple, disbelief and a hint of hurt present on his face. Like Noir is being unreasonable for not just taking a sorry from the man. “Aren't you supposed to be apologising because you feel bad?” Noir counters, voice just a little cold, and he doesn't even feel too bad about it.

He does though, when Patrick throws up his arms in clear frustration, and practically spits out “Why are you making this so difficult?” He's gritting his teeth and staring Noir down. He doesn't want to admit that it's making him feel a little vulnerable, feeling so naked.

“I'm not though”

“You are”

There's a long tense moment where they just hold eye contact, and then Noir sets his chin back down on his arms with fake nonchalance. Oh it feels so good to be able to throw that frustration back at the other man.

“I am asking perfectly reasonable questions here” He's not. He's being so unreasonable.

“Ok so maybe I did something not so cool last time-” Noir cuts him off with an unamused huff, and it gets him a glare in return. He turns his head away from Patrick; he doesn't really want to face the heat head on. “Oh yeah you can say that again”

The desk wobbles a bit unsteadily, and Noir has to actually uncross his arms and lift his head to gain back his balance. Patrick has shoved off the corner he was sitting on, and is now facing the desk, and by association Noir, head on. He's leaning forward over the desk, holding himself up with his hands so he's just barely hovering in Noir's personal space, as he says, “so this is how it's gonna go eh?”

“Well excuse me for not just taking a sorry” Noir shoots back not moments later, there's a hint of malice in his words. It startles Patrick just a little bit, and he takes a moment to just look at Noir's face. It doesn't seem like he really finds what he's looking for, but eventually Patrick pushes himself off the desk and drags a hand over his eyes. It stays there too. “You didn't even let me say sorry though”

Noir thinks it over for just a second, before he crosses his arms over his chest. “Ok fine”

“Fine.” Patrick replies back, tone clipped. A beat of awkward silence, then another passes, before Patrick shuffles his feet and lets out a small, “- i'm sorry”.

Despite the fact that it sounds almost as sincere as the first time he said it, Noir still has a hard time really grasping the validity of the apology. It's stupid, he should be working out a conclusion from the facts he's been presented with, but it's like a deeper part of him just cannot accept that this is a sincere try to apologise for someone's wrongdoings. He doesn't really mean to do it, but with the stretch of time Noir wastes on reflecting, and the unintentional side eyes he's been given Patrick this entire time, the other man seems to come to the conclusion that Noir doesn't like or accept his apology. He's not entirely wrong either.

“Nothing?” He asks like it's the last straw, and Noir just can’t help himself but tease a little.

“No sweet nicknames?” He quirks a brow at the cowboy. He doesn't expect the other man to look as shocked as he does at the quib. It's a sort of offended shocked expression that tells Noir that Patrick absolutely wasn't there for his jokes. Well that's too bad, maybe he shouldn't half ass his apologies (or whatever is going on here). The expression is there for a bit before Patrick just lets out a disbelieving laugh, shakes his head and bites into his hand to ground himself.

“Ok i'm done here” is the last thing he ushers out before he's gone. Noir doesn't even get to add any last comments before he's back at Penis desk. He leans down to whisper a quick “i tried”, before he makes his way to the door, and makes sure everyone in the office knows he left by letting the door slam on the way out.

He's not feeling bad about how that went, not at all. There was something kinda off about the apology right, Patrick probably just wanted to rile him up just like last time. It's the thoughts that go through his head, it's also the most logical reasoning (the only logical reasoning, if you aren't considering that it might have been a sincere attempt at apologising).

For a while he just sit there, staring at his hands, turning them over, looking at the rough calluses on his palms, and then he turns them over again when he's done that for a bit. Why did he talk to Peni after? What even is Peni’s involvement in this?HE thinks the questions over a couple of times, before he actually gets the courage to look at his daughter, trying to gauge the answers from her. When he does look, he's met with the most intense stare from such a young face. The only time she's ever looked at him with such intensity was around the first month they knew each other, before she fully warmed up to him.

Before he knows it Noir has gotten out of his chair and is making his way over to where his daughter is sitting. She's watching him like a hawk the entire time, its quite frightening.

“Now just what in the world was that?” Is the first thing out of Penis mouth as soon as Noir is standing still beside his daughter. Her tone is all business and no nonsense, Noir would almost be a little proud of well she pulls it off if it wasn't because he is on the receiving end of it.

“I really don’t-” “No i don't want to hear it!” Peni cuts him off promptly, crossing her arms across her chest and faces away from him. Noir sighs and deflates a little bit. “I really don't know what you mean, I don't even know what Patricks whole deal is.” He explains, or tries to at least because it seems like that was the completely wrong thing to say, as Peni just rolls her eyes at him. “He was apologising obviously” She says it like it's so obvious, and then when he doesn't answer she turns back around to look at him, just to look very disappointed.

“I- are you sure?” Noir can't help but ask. “I really don't know if he was trying to be sincere” He walks around in a little circle before quickly turning back around at the snort his daughter lets out. She's now both shaking her head and laughing a little bit, and Noir can't help but smile and let out a little heh himself.

“Why don't you go ask him yourself, aren't you supposed to be the adult here?” she asks, mischief clear in her tone, and Noir really wants to argue further for his case. “But-” Pani just holds his hand up in a stop gesture. “It's really none of my business, this is all about the adults, so if you want to figure it out yourself.” And then she's back to focusing on her video game, the only evidence that this whole fiasco has happened, is the slight tensing of her shoulders.

Noir feels a little stupid on the inside. Having to be coached by Peni, a child (well teenager) on how to best resolve his own conflicts, isn't really his proudest moment. At least the kid can speak up, say when she doesn't want to deal with his issues anymore. It's an improvement over the conflict shy girl he met 4 years ago.

Knowing that if he continues to just stand around Peni, he will contine to get ignored, he looks towards the door. Surely Patrick must have already run away to some secluded part of the camp, hiding to lick his wounds. Theres no logical reason as to why hed stay around the office when Noir had just turned his apology down. But well, even if the other man isnt there, he could probably use some fresh air and a moment to stretch his legs, so he makes his way to the door.

The first gust of wind to his face is warm and humid, and it brings the smell of freshly cut wood and fruit to his nose. He was right, it is nice to get out of the office, not that it's stuffy. Not like some of those he's been forced to work in when cases are too difficult for him to take on alone, and external help is brought in. They'll be pouring over papers, in a space that's smaller than Noirs kitchen at home, but with lots more people, and the air becomes too warm, too stuffy way too fast for Noirs liking. But thankfully here, he gets to smell the fresh nature, and take in the sight of said nature as well. He is brought rather abruptly out of his serene moment by the sound of deep breathing to his left.

And lo and behold, the man of the hour. Noir honestly thought he was far gone, but here Patrick is, leaning against the rough wood that makes up the outer wall of the office building. He's taking deep audible breaths and he has covered his face with his arm as well, head turned back and resting against the wall.

There's a part of Noir that just wants to stay here, to admire the view that is Patrick O’hara. To transcribe every part of his being down to memory, so he can relive this moment again and again, But like all good things, this too has an end.

Patrick tenses up, he's probably noticed that he's not alone any longer. Not that standing in front of the office building is exactly the most private of places, but Noir disgresses

“So whats up detectives?” Patrick jokes. Its rather weak though, and theres no real punch behind it. Which, fair. After the disaster of a conversation theyve just had, if Noir was in Patricks spot right now he probably would be able ot make a humorous joke.

Noir cant muster up anty real annoyance at the obvious butchering of his title, but he has to keep up appearances so he does scowl a little. If nothing else then to satisfy the little part of his ego that does take the joke to heart.

He stride to a spot just short of Patrick before mirroring Patrick and leans up against the rough wall, feeling the mall knobs digging into his back.

“Peni send you?” Patrick asks as soon as Noir has gotten comfortable against the wall. He doesnt have an actual answer to that. Technically she didn't, she said she didn't want to be involved, but that inadvertently also means that her noninvolvement is what brought Nor out here. Instead of explain that though, he just lets out a humm of confirmation.

Theres a small stretch of silence before Patrick speaks up again.

“Shes a good kid” That gets Noirs attention. He leans a little off the wall to get a better look at Patricks face, but it doesnt betray Patricks feeling in the slightest. “Shes eh-” Noir lets out, a bit distracted. He looks back down at the ground where hes scraping at some dirt with his boot. “Yeah” He says softly. “Im pretty lucky to have her.”

Theres silence between them for a bit. Patrick has stopped breathing as deeply, and now that theyre just standing here in an uncomfortable silence, Noir can admit hes glad about the fact. Hes stopped restlessly shuffling as well, and has elected to just endure the tense silence, thats the least he can do really since he was the one who searched out the other man.

“Im not gonna say it again” Patricks gruff voice startles him out of his thoughts. The other man clears his throat at the same time as Noir lets out a “What?”

Despite having had those deep brown eyes directed at him a multitude of times during the last half an hour, having them trained on him this time they feel truely like they can see right through to his thoughts. Noir doesnt let it get to him though, and he just returns Patrick’s gaze unaffected.

Patrick pushes off the wall and takes a few steps so he can lean back onto a bench behind him, while still facing Noir as he speaks. It's the right choice in Noir's opinion, he's not sure he could handle being too close to the other man right now.

“I’m not gonna say sorry again” Patrick says, long legs stretched out in front of him, but eyes carefully trained in on Noir's face. Noir nods along, hes not exspecting that from the other man at all

“Oh, no that-” He pushes lightly off the wall of the office, just so hes standing and not just leaning when talking to Patrick, but he gets cut off mid sentence.

“No, you listen here. I'm not very good at letting people get close, that's on me-” “Patrick!” Noir tries to interrupt, but it does nothing slow the other man down. “-But I'm not gonna roll over and show my belly to the first willing and available man who thinks they can hold anything over my head. If I did that I wouldn't be here right now detective.”

And wow that's a lot, Noir almost forgets to answer. “Yeah but that's not-” Patrick ignores him.

“Capiche?” Patrick talks over him, he stands up, once again Noir tries to break in, his voice more pronounced this time. “No i get it, Patrick listen-” He gets cut off again but a retreating Patrick. While Noir was busy talking Patrick has turned to walk away and is doing a quick salute in parting. “I really have to go now, planning you know”

Noir does a half run to catch up with the other man, and he gets a hold of his wrist which halts Patrick in his step, it also earns Noir a major case of side eye. When it's obvious Patrick isn't just gonna run off, Noir lets go of his arm and levels him with a look. “Listen-” He starts, and he makes sure he has Patricks full attention. “-i should have just accepted your apology.” He makes sure his voice is even, ”I don't wanna say i didn't know what i was thinking, because i did. But i'm sorry”

There is a moment of silence where Patrick just watches him. It's easy not to squirm under the gaze as it doesn't feel as intense, not as judging. Patrick must find what he's looking for as he just turns around with a quick “I'll see ya around detective,” And then he's gone.

~~~~~

Later when Patrick is sitting at his desk in his own little cabin, reading over a couple of registration papers, he doesn't think about Noir. The sound of the door opening briefly gets his attention, and when he looks up to see Peni standing in the door opening, SP//dr clutched tightly to her chest, and her backpack slung over her shoulder. Patrick just gives her a short nod in acknowledgement and then goes back to his papers. There's some shuffling from his bed, Peni getting comfortable with all her gear to tinker on SP//dr.

The occasional metallic clink clank is the only sound in the small space for a while. Patrick is just getting accustomed to it as it just stops. He looks up and finds Peni not looking up at him but just staring at her little robot, but not doing anything.

“I'm proud of you”

It's quite shocking to hear coming from a kid so much younger than him. It's not really like he's done anything to be proud of either. That apology situation from earlier on was nothing short of an absolute catastrophe. He's not even sure how it all worked out as well as it did in the end. But she's just a kid, he shouldn't worry about stuff like this.

“I'm the adult here, i was just doing what was right in the end” He pauses to think over his words. “You're just a kid, you don't have to go be proud of me, for-” He makes little circle motions with his hand to try and find the right words. “For just talking to your dad.” He smiles at her. As sincere as he can make it in his exhausted state. There much to like about Noir, but god is he an absolute menace.

“Dad will come around, don't worry” Peni just says, and then goes back to her robot like the conversation didn't happen at all. Patrick just smiles at her, a little less tired this time, and goes back to his papers.