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Almond scanned the documents laid out in front of him on his kitchen table. Walnut’s work was impressive, if not a little concerning. He feared for the day she deemed herself old enough to drink coffee. In the middle of the photographs, frantic writings, and sticky notes explaining how certain clues were linked, was a single pale yellow envelope, opened and half revealing Phantom Bleu’s latest hint.
They’d left it at the scene of their last heist, as per usual, and Almond had figured it out in no time. All signs pointed to their next exploit taking place at Earl Grey’s annual masquerade ball, held at his grandmaster hotel. Almond wasted no time in enlisting Walnut’s help to figure out their plan.
“Every year since the twins arrived,” Walnut explained, “Earl Grey has hired heavier security to ensure no funny business takes place on hotel grounds.”
Almond nods, “We shouldn’t have any issues with security. I talked to Latte, and she managed to get us both invitations.”
“Invitations you say…?” Walnut smiles sheepishly, reaching to discard some papers that, from what Almond could briefly observe, detailed plans to sneak into the masquerade. “Haha… That’s great!” She hastily crumples up the papers, avoiding Almond’s amused gaze. “Anyways, back to my original point. I’ve noticed that wherever there’s security or guards, they’re always somehow occupied when Phantom Bleu strikes!”
“Go on.”
“I’m certain that Phantom Bleu sets up diversions to ensure nobody catches them, not until they want to be caught. It’s just like volume two of Classic Detective Novel! The criminal bribes the guards with sweets, and they act none the wiser!” Walnut takes a deep breath, getting herself back on track, “I’m still sorting out the details, but Phantom Bleu is setting up some kind of distraction at this masquerade, and I’m going to prevent it.”
Walnut finishes her monologue with a flourish, and Almond smiles fondly. “Great work, Walnut. There’s still a few days till the masquerade, I’m sure that will be enough time for us to iron this out.”
“You bet!” She waves her hands as she talks. “And! We can go outfit shopping! Right?” Walnut blinks and clasps her hands together. “We need to dress fancy! This is a ball. Oh! We need masks too!”
Almond laughs under his breath, checking the time on the oven. It is way past Walnut’s bedtime. “Of course, we can go tomorrow after you get home from school.” Walnut beams, nodding excitedly at the idea.
“Perfect! This is gonna be so!-“ She stops herself, zeroing in on her father’s amused expression. “I mean- Business. This is all very serious! We’re going to catch the nefarious Phantom Bleu once and for all!”
“Not if you don’t get a full night’s sleep, sweetie. Go get ready for bed, I’ll sort out these documents. Okay?”
Walnut groans, and then yawns a second later, seemingly processing that yes, hours of meticulous research and planning can leave a girl exhausted. “Alright…” she sighs, “But we’re going to catch them, and we’re gonna look great doing it!”
Almond hears her giggling as she skips down the hall to her room, calling a “Goodnight dad, love you!” over her shoulder.
“I love you too, Walnut. Goodnight.” He calls back, and sets to clearing their kitchen table of the documents and notes left behind.
————————
The next day, Almond picked Walnut up from school. As they walked down the road, she rambled on about her day. When that grew stale, she brainstormed her ideas for what to wear to the masquerade ball.
“We could match! I know you’ll probably want something simpler. I mean, you wear the same tie to work every day.” Walnut snickers.
“What does my tie have to do with this?”
“Besides the point!” She dismisses him with a flick of her hand. “Where are we going to look for outfits anyway?”
Almond hums, “It’s close by. I’ve never been, but I think you’ll like it.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, making sure he didn’t forget his wallet at home. “It’s called Choc’au Latte Boutique. The owner is a renowned fashion designer, and she’s close with Earl Grey and the twins.”
Walnut opens her mouth to speak, but Almond puts a hand up to stop her.
“We will not be interrogating her. I don’t think details on Earl Grey and his kids’ fashion choices will be of any help to our case.” Almond raises a brow, fixing his daughter with a look. “We’re going to the boutique for outfits, not for investigation.”
Almond knows how persistent his daughter is, and how she’s likely come up with 10 different counter-arguments for what Almond just said. But, she simply puffs out her cheeks and mumbles a disgruntled, “Fiiiine.” She speaks under her breath, likely only meaning for herself to hear, “An opportunity for more information right in front of me-“
“What was that?” Almond inquires, barely keeping a straight face.
“Nothing!” Walnut jumps, “What? Who said anything? Not me! You must be hearing things. You should get that checked out.” She suddenly perks up, “Y’know, in one of my novels-“
Almond stops in front of the doors, holding them open for Walnut. She continues rambling, detailing a recent horror-mystery novel she had read. She doesn’t even register the sound of bell above the door jingling. She only trails off when Almond nudges her shoulder, and she realizes where they are.
“We’re here.” Almond says, belatedly.
“Oh! Woah… There’s a lot of dresses here.” Walnut eyes flit around, like she can’t decide where to look. Eventually, she settles on some displays with smaller dresses and suits, likely trying to figure out if they’re her size.
A voice calls from the back, “Welcome in! I’ll be just a moment.” The smooth voice is followed by a cacophony of clangs, and what Almond can only assume is the sound of something breaking. A quiet, “Phew!” can be heard, before a woman emerges from the back room.
She dusts herself off, a roll of measuring tape laying loose over her shoulders. “Sorry about that! Welcome to Choc’au Latte Boutique. How can I help you?” She’s tall, with glistening red eyes and big brown-to-blonde hair. Her dress is very clearly hand made, just like many of the other articles of clothing in this boutique.
Almond opens his mouth to speak, but Walnut beats him to it.
“Hello! I’m Walnut, and this is my dad!“ She chirps, standing on her toes for a moment, before leveling out.
“Hm.” The designer hums, charmed by Walnut’s excitement. “Well, my name is Bon Bon. Most people call me Bonnie. It’s nice to meet you.”
Almond clears his throat, “You too. We’re here looking for something to wear to a ball. A masquerade to be specific.” He looks around the boutique, already getting a few ideas. “There’s no theme, as far as I’m aware-“
“Oh! I know exactly what you’re referring to.” Bonnie exclaims. “Earl Grey’s annual masquerade ball, correct?”
“Ah, yes. That would be correct.”
Bonnie begins to walk towards a display, keeping her eyes on the two. “I just finished up outfits for the Choco twins. I tried to get Earl Grey to let me design a new suit for him, but alas, he wouldn’t hear it. Either way, this year’s ball is sure to be magnificent.”
“This is our first time going.” Walnut follows Bonnie over to the display, eyes glued to the elaborate gowns. She glances over at Almond, a contemplative look on her face, before turning back to the designer. “Say… you wouldn’t happen to know anything about the security at this here ball-“
“Walnut.” Almond sighs. “Excuse her, she’s just got some… preconceptions about masquerades. From her mystery novels.” It’s a half lie. His daughter is likely expecting this masquerade to be very dramatic and regal. A masquerade ball that allows children, however, is sure to be anything but regal. Almond is looking forward to it.
Bonnie giggles again, putting a hand over her mouth. “Well, I don’t know about the security, but I do know fashion.” Walnut stands up straighter and nods, as if she’d almost forgotten why they were there.
“Oh! Yes. I was thinking something simpler, since we’re here on kind of short notice.” Walnut takes a notepad from her pocket and flips to a page. From over her shoulder, Almond can see a simple three piece outfit, a button up paired with a suit jacket, along with a long skirt and short heeled boots. “Something like this! I wanna incorporate pearls somewhere too.”
Bonnie tuts under her breath, scanning some of the displays before perking up. “I have just the thing! I’m sure you’ll love it.”
————————
After less than an hour of discussion and having their measurements taken, Bonnie sent them on their way, promising to have their outfits, plus masks, ready by tomorrow evening. The night before the ball. That woman was a saint.
It wasn’t without struggle. When asked what ideas he had for his suit, Almond had been caught off guard and almost replied, “Something easy to run in,” before realizing how odd that sounded. He instead suggested something easy to dance in. Walnut had given him a look that he was sure meant You don’t dance, but had let it slide.
Now, Almond sits in his office, going over the day's documents. Mostly petty crimes, Nothing of the same scale as Phantom Bleu’s heists. The detective didn’t think any criminal could ever live up to Roguefort.
Despite the purpose of them attending the masquerade ball, Almond finds himself almost excited. He’s not one for dancing, but Walnut’s clearly looking forward to more than just the business side of things. Even if they don’t stop Roguefort, this will have been worth it, just to see his daughter happy.
He supposes he has Roguefort to thank for that. Preparing for a masquerade ball would’ve never been on Almond’s radar for father-daughter bonding activities.
He stands, walking over to the single window in his office. An envelope lies on the window sill. It’s the same pale yellow color as always, but the wax seal is different. It’s a shimmering indigo-blue color. Despite the difference, Almond still knows exactly who it’s from. He opens it, pulling out a paper of the same blue color. Four words are left in swirling golden calligraphy:
“See you soon, Detective.”
————————
The day arrives. Almond stands outside of the grandmaster hotel gates with his daughter, invitations tucked securely in his suit pocket.
The outfits are even more stunning than Almond expected. Walnut was ecstatic trying hers on and getting ready, while Almond felt out of place in such refined clothes. The suit was easy to run in, however, so he couldn’t complain. Their masks were made to match as well, with the same off-white color and gold etchings. Almonds is shaped to completely cover half his face, while Walnut’s is a more traditional shape, going over the bridge of her nose and outlining her eyes.
Walnut was very clearly trying to seem serious, but anticipation shines in her eyes. Almond is sure his expression mirrors hers, if not a little more reserved.
His heart races as he thinks over how this night may go. He avoids thoughts on whether or not he’ll really manage to catch Roguefort, whether he’d really turn them in. He knows where that line of thinking leads; has learned to steer clear of it for his own peace of mind.
Instead, he thinks about how this heist will probably be less showy. Roguefort wouldn’t want to upset Earl Grey by endangering the twins. And, though they would never admit it, they have an undeniable soft spot for children in general. Almond finds that trait of theirs to be especially… confounding.
Before he can mull over it further, Walnut tugs at his sleeve, alerting him that it’s their turn for entry. He hands over their invitations and they’re ushered inside. He hears distant music, violins and piano, as they walk through a dimly lit hallway, a few feet behind those who entered before them.
Walnut squeals under her breath beside him, “We’re in! Oh my gosh this is gonna be so- No, no. Hmph! I have a mission. But, maybe one trip to the snacks table couldn’t hurt…” She probably meant the words for herself, but this hallway is quiet, so Almond overhears anyway.
He sighs fondly as they reach the doors, stopping and turning to Walnut. “You’re handling the diversion, yes?” He crosses his arms.
“Oh! Yes! I’ve got everything I need, I just need to make sure-“
“Do you have anything else to do after that?” Walnut tilts his head, seeing the next group nearing them.
Walnut looks confused for a moment, “…No. What are you getting at? Do you need my help with something else?” She looks around, likely going over their plan in her head to make sure she didn’t forget anything. “Oh! I could help you chase down Phantom Bleu once I’m done?”
Almond lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “No, that’s alright sweetie.” He took a breath, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say, without making it seem like he was underestimating Walnut. “There’s plenty of other kids your age here, I’m sure, and you’ve worked very hard. Go have fun, I’ll deal with Phantom Bleu.”
With that, he opens the doors, the music and atmosphere washing over them. Walnut stalls for only a moment, before a wide grin takes over her face. “Got it. I’m going to have so much fun. You won’t believe it!” She pauses, clearing her throat. “Right after I finish my task. Good luck, Dad! Bye!”
“You too, Walnut. Stay safe.”
He watches her walk off, slinking through the crowd till she’s out of sight. He allows himself one warm smile, and then he rights himself, scanning the ballroom.
The room is decorated elegantly. Tables and chairs line the walls, serving as a resting place for the more emphatic dancers, or kids up past their bedtime. A gold-banister balcony looms over the edge of the room, with two red-velvet staircases on either side of it, leading up.
He nods to himself, making his way over. That will be his best vantage point to see if Roguefort resides in the ballroom. He isn’t doubtful that they would do such a thing, mingling with people at a place they intend to steal from.
Nearing the staircase, he registers the tempo of the music changing, shifting to something slower, sweeter. The people around him begin to couple up, and he hurries to leave the crowd before he’s made to slow dance.
Thankfully, he makes it, putting a hand on the railing and stepping up. The balcony isn’t much less crowded than the floor, but there’s still room to walk, and a few empty spots against the banister to look down from.
Down below, he sees a flurry of colors. Silver, gold, dark reds and royal blues. He narrows his eyes, looking for any familiar shade of blonde or cyan. Familiarity, that’s what he’s looking for.
Then, he sees it. A distinct flash of indigo blue, the same as the wax Roguefort had used to seal their last “clue.” Their mask is what caught Almond’s eye, a shiny, feathery piece, with turquoise gems dotted under their eye. They gleam, mirroring the color of Roguefort’s eyes and contrasting with that familiar blue. And isn’t that just so them. To leave hints in even the most inconspicuous of details? Almond almost lets himself smile.
However, he has to school his expression. Roguefort looks his way, almost as if they felt his gaze. Their eyes meet, and a smile graces Roguefort’s navy-blue painted lips. Then, in a flash, they’re swept away by another dancer, twirling and stepping out of Almond’s sight.
He knows he has no time to waste; the chase is on. He walks down the stairs, as quickly as he can without rousing too much attention. He pauses at the last step.
If he wants to find Roguefort in this crowd, he can’t just barrel through. He watches couples sway and spin, and after a count, somehow, everybody knows to switch partners. It’s impossibly coordinated. He takes a deep breath, and walks forward, finding a dance partner and muttering an apology to them.
He lays a hand on the stranger’s shoulder, the other interlinked with theirs. “I’m not much of a dancer. I’m more-“
“Almond?”
His eyes widen in recognition. “Latte!”
“Almond!” She beams, easily twirling them around. “I didn’t think you’d come. I figured an event like this would be far from your scene.”
He huffs fondly, “Well, Walnut was really looking forward to it. And, you know I have business here.” He says that last part quieter, glancing around them to see every dancer lost in their own world.
“Ah yes, your elusive business.” She crows, “It wouldn’t have to do with a certain well dressed thief traipsing along this dance floor right now, would it?”
“I’m afraid that’s—“ He stops himself from finishing that sentence with —confidential and sighs. “I should’ve never let you go through my filing cabinets.”
Latte hums, “You’re looking for them, right?”
Almond simply nods, looking over Latte’s shoulders for any glimpse of blue or turquoise.
“Allow me.” Latte does a small bow, and then she begins leading him methodically through the crowd, stepping and spinning at just the right moments to avoid colliding with anyone else. He wonders if there’s something in the air, causing the collective coordinated dance ability within this room.
Before he can think further on that, he sees it, a flash of blue and blonde. “That way.” He nods his head in the direction he saw them, forcing himself to ignore how endearing it is that Roguefort dyed that streak in their hair to match their outfit.
Latte seamlessly brings them over, Almond stumbling over his own feet only once. The music shifts, and Latte’s hand leaves his own.
“Good luck!” She chirps, and Almond watches as she’s swept away by a new dance partner. He whirls around, and almost falls over himself.
Roguefort stands in front of him, hand raised like they were going to tap his shoulder. “Ah.” Their eyes run down Almond’s outfit, before trailing back up to his face. He swears he can see a slight blush dusting Roguefort’s cheeks, pretends he doesn’t. They smile, saccharine, before bowing and holding out a gloved hand. “May I have this dance?”
Almond lets himself take in their appearance for only a second— Their sparkling eye makeup, the velveteen material of their outfit, their dark painted lips— and he takes their hand.
Roguefort tugs him closer, brings his hand to their waist and lays their own on the small of his back, bringing their faces barely an inch apart. Almond forces a composed look, brow furrowed as if his mind isn’t zeroed in on the lack of proximity between them.
They begin to dance, Roguefort leading, holding Almond’s gaze. This close, he can smell their sweet, woodsy cologne. Or is it perfume? He isn’t sure. They’re waiting for him to speak. He struggles to find the words.
“Roguefort,” he starts, “What do you-“
They shush him, pressing a finger to his lips. “Detective! This is a masquerade, you aren’t supposed to go around sharing names.” They speak, a teasing lilt to their voice. “Tonight, we are strangers.”
Almond huffs, “You just called me ‘Detective,’ not very anonymous, now is it?”
“Well, your badge is sticking out of your coat pocket.” Roguefort snickered.
Upon a glance down, Almond sees that yes, his badge is half visible. He needs to get this conversation back on track.
“You wont find what you’re looking for here.” Almond says, sternly. These days, it’s been harder and harder to furrow his brow and put on a gruff look around Roguefort. He refuses to wonder why.
Roguefort only grins, eyes sparkling as they take hold of Almond’s wrist, moving it further down their waist to their upper thigh. “And if I already have?” They purr, and Almond feels the sharp outline of a gemstone in their pocket.
His eyes widen, his heartbeat fluttering under Roguefort’s fingers. He gets another whiff of their perfume— cologne? He’s still not sure— and it makes his head spin.
Before he can get another word in, the crowd has suddenly decided to switch partners once again, and Roguefort tosses him one last smug glance before they’re whisked away. He knows time is precious, so with a rushed apology he denies the next person requesting to dance with him, pushing through the throng of dancers— as politely as he can— to pursue Roguefort.
He finds the person they were dancing with, alone, and asks them to point him in the direction of Roguefort. They point to the stairs, and Almond sees the thief leisurely making their way up to the balcony. He thanks the stranger and jogs to the staircase, making eye contact with Roguefort once more as they turn away and stroll into a hallway.
Reaching the top of the staircase, Almond takes a breath before matching Roguefort’s pace, seeing them already at the end of the hallway. He follows.
As they turn the corner, he quickens his pace, but as soon as they’re within sight again he slows. They know he’s closing in on them, but they show no sense of urgency. This is going exactly how they wanted it to.
Almond turns the next corner, finding Roguefort at the end of a hall in front of two doors. More stairs. How delightful. He takes a deep breath as they go through the doors, physically preparing himself for the now upwards trek.
He’s on Roguefort’s tail, he’d be able to reach out and grab their billowing coat if he wanted to, but he’s not trying to send them both toppling down these stairs. Now, they’re both at a running pace, Roguefort watching Almond out of their peripheral vision, flashing him a dazzling smile when they turn to run up the next flight.
Soon enough, they reach the top floor. Roguefort bursts through the doors, gliding down the hallway to the very last door on the right, sending Almond one last conceited grin, eyes sparkling, before they enter the room and shut the door behind them.
Almond gets to the door in no time, reaching for the handcuffs in his pocket. He throws the door open, half expecting it to be locked.
“End of the line, Phantom Bleu.” He calls, “Come peacefully, and your cell may not be as cold.” Almond says these words every time he catches them, and they never listen. He doesn’t expect them too now, either.
“End of the line, you say?” They’re perched on a window sill, the room is empty, aside from some crates. Moonlight streams in from the window, outlining the thief as they jeer at Almond. “I don’t think so. Until next time, mon a- Oh no.”
Roguefort had opened the window, making to jump out. Almond is surprised when, instead, the thief jumps back, stumbling over their own feet. He catches them under the arms, taking in their wide eyes, their lips set in a hard line.
“That’s not ideal.” They mumble.
“What?” Almond lets them up, but they remain close, Roguefort looking at the window with thinly veiled panic written upon their face. “What’s not ideal?”
“The guards! What happened to my diversion?”
Almond blinks, and then he laughs, much to the chagrin of the criminal in front of him. “Walnut handled that, I’m afraid.”
“Your junior detective!” They say it almost like an insult, but Almond knows they’re impressed, if the disbelieving smile on their face is anything to go by. “Of course, of course she figured it out- Ugh. I will never ask that Brute for help again!”
“Who?”
“Besides the point.” Roguefort sighs, “I guess this really is the end of the line then. Oh, do what you must, detective. I won’t resist. Mon heure de mordre la poussière.”
They hold out their hands, wrists together, and Almond blanks. Is this really it? He expected more of a fight, a backup plan. He didn’t think this would happen so soon. He’s… not content with this.
Hesitantly, he unclasps one of the cuffs, meeting Roguefort’s eyes as he makes to attach it to their wrist.
“Hey!” A voice calls, distant. “Is someone up there? These quarters are strictly off limits.”
Almond fumbles, surprised. He whirls around to look at the door, absent mindedly placing the cuffs back in his pocket.
“Uh oh,” Roguefort drawls. “We aren’t supposed to be up here, what do we do?”
“We?” Almond turns back to Roguefort, seeing they’ve moved their hands behind their back. “You aren’t supposed to be up here, I’m with the law.”
“Are you?” Roguefort says, and takes a hand from behind their back, holding up Almond’s badge.
He gasps, reaching for it, but Roguefort twirls out of his range easily. “Give that back!” He exclaims, and watches in horror as Roguefort feigns tripping, and tosses his badge out of the window.
“Ah, whoops.” They shrug, “Guess you’re not with the law anymore.”
Almond balks, absolutely dumbfounded by this turn of events. He looks at Roguefort, and might consider murder, for just a second. But, he’s reasonable, and he has spare badges in his office.
“Hm, what would Earl Grey think? A cop, unidentified, making trouble at his masquerade?” Roguefort paces around the room, eyes shining as they take a seat on one of the crates, crossing their legs.
“I’m not making trouble, I’m trying to-“
The voice calls again, closer this time. “Hey! Show yourselves! I’m entitled to use force.”
Roguefort looks back at the window, and their voice takes on a nervous tone. “So uh… Got any ideas, detective? We’re both toast if we’re caught up here, and our only exit is blocked.”
Almond hisses out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Give me a moment— I’ll figure something out.”
He thinks, hearing heavy footsteps nearing them, doors being thrown open haphazardly. What reason would two people have to sneak away at an event like this? What reason other than criminal activity?
Then, he gets an idea. A stupid, half baked one, but an idea nonetheless. He swallows, taking a step towards Roguefort, who’s looking more concerned as whoever’s looking for them draws nearer.
“Roguefort,” he starts, “I have an idea. You’re gonna have to go with me on this.”
“Ahah, could you explain this idea, quickly?” They look at him confused as he gets closer, reaching a hand towards them, hesitant, giving them a chance to move away.
The steps get louder, almost outside of their room. Their pursuer calls out again. “Last chance! Come out now!”
“No time. You’ll have to trust me on this.” Almond rushes out, and once he sees Roguefort isn’t moving, he brings his hand to the back of their neck.
Their eyes widen, and for once, they look entirely out of place. No smug grin, or narrowed eyes. Just parted lips and eyes searching Almond’s face for some idea of what he’s planning. Almond doesn’t know if they find what they’re looking for, but they nod, “Alright, detective.” They whisper, placing a hand upon his arm
The door behind them slams open, light streaming into the room. At the same time, Almond leans forward, pressing his lips to Roguefort’s.
They melt into him, one hand coming up to caress his cheek while the other cards through his hair. Fireworks go off in Almond’s brain, his heart races and his mask is knocked askew and he wonders if he’s lost his mind. He puts a hand on Roguefort’s waist to steady himself, hardly hearing the security guard sputtering in the doorway. The cologne-perfume scent is intoxicating, he can almost taste it.
“You- Sorry but you can’t be—“
Almond breaks the kiss, missing Roguefort’s dazed look as he turns to address the security guard. “Privacy? Ever heard of it?” He says, faux casual.
Roguefort’s hands drop to his shoulders, more firm than the grasp they’d had on his jaw and hair. “Oh! Hey Muscle-guy!” They call.
Muscle-guy? “That cannot be his name—“ Almond whispers to Roguefort, who shushes him with a pointed look.
“I’m just on my break,” they grin, pulling out a security lanyard and badge from their pocket. “Hope that’s okay?”
Almond, once again, is dumbfounded. They had that the whole time. He didn’t— They didn’t— Oh. Oh no.
The security guard speaks again, “When did you find the time to get dressed up?”
“I’m stealth, my friend. Earl Grey asked a handful of us to show up in fancy dress to blend in.” Roguefort lies seamlessly, and Almond realizes something. This was their backup plan. They always have a back up plan, he should’ve never been doubtful that they would, even now.
Muscle-guy looks embarrassed now, for them or himself, Almond isn’t sure. He takes a step back. “Ah. Okay… Well, uh. I’ll leave you to it.” He clears his throat, mumbling a small, “Sorry,” and finally leaving.
The door closes behind him, the room bathed in moonlight once more. Almond stares at the closed door for a good 10 seconds.
Roguefort lets out a small hum, and Almond jumps back from them as if he’s been burned.
“You!— The whole time—“
“I lied.” They jeer, and Almonds eyes flit down to their lips before he catches himself.
“Why would you—“
“I wanted to see what you would come up with! And wow, you surprised me, that’s for sure.”
They uncross their legs, leaning forward on the crate. Almond’s eyes follow the movement. They didn’t need to kiss. Almond didn’t need to kiss Roguefort. They kissed back.
“You are insufferable.”
Roguefort only laughs.
Almond feels the need to explain himself, figure whatever this is out so he can fall sleep easy tonight. “I- What other reason would two people seek out an empty room at a party?”
“Hm. Theft?”
A beat passes.
“You have— uh.” He motions to their lipstick, “It’s smudged.”
Roguefort brings their thumb to the edge of their bottom lip, cleaning up the smudge without looking, only kind of making it worse. “We match,” they whisper, almost too genuine.
Almond runs a finger over his own lips, and sure enough, it comes back stained dark blue. He hurriedly wipes his lips on the inside of his sleeve, only half dismayed at staining his suit. Mostly, he feels hot, but the AC in this room is working fine. He also feels confused. Good confused?
He sighs, deciding to unpack all that later, “Get us out of here.”
“Me?” Roguefort inquires, their voice taking on a teasing lilt, “Why, you’re the one with all the great ideas.”
Almond groans, knowing this is going to become a thing with them. “And you’re the one with the security pass.”
"So demanding.” Roguefort sighs, but a small smile ghosts their lips. “I suppose I could lead you back and ensure neither of us get in trouble for being up here. For a price."
Of course. Almond should’ve expected this. “What is it?” He places a hand on his hip, trying to overwrite his current interal struggle with faux confidence.
“You, maybe, not arresting me?”
Almond thought he’d already made it clear Roguefort was going home a free thief tonight, but this is a part of their plan too. Make it seem like they had to bribe Almond to let them go, when he’d always let them go anyway without any convincing. It was a part of their routine, a subtle way to keep the status quo. A thief and a detective, nothing else. At least, that’s what Almond forced himself to think.
Almond would always let them slip from his grasp, and he knew exactly why.
“Lead the way.”
He watches Roguefort slide off the crate, making their way to the door. He feels a pull in his chest, almost as if leaving this room would be leaving this moment behind forever. Would that be better for them? He isn’t sure. So, he follows Roguefort without a word.
They retrace their steps seamlessly. Almond knows Roguefort probably went over the building's floor layout over and over again, they were meticulous like that. The stairs are much easier going down, and the winding hallways don’t seem as convoluted with Roguefort there to guide him.
Music and voices begin to filter in as they near the balcony, and Roguefort stops.
They turn to Almond, an easy grin on their face. Their eyes, however, seem guarded, darker than usual. Almond can see they’re thinking something over, a subtle crease upon their brow. He, deliriously, wishes he could read their mind. It would make this all so much easier.
“Well. this is where we part, detective.”
Almond blinks out of his stupor, trying to act like he wasn’t staring. “Ah, yes. I’ll have to stop by my office on the way home for a new badge.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Roguefort laughs, producing the badge from their pocket and holding it out to Almond.
“What? When did you…?”
They smile ruefully, taking a step closer to Almond as he takes the badge. Their hands brush and Roguefort interlocks their fingers. Almond’s heart constricts. “Don’t worry about it.”
Roguefort reaches up, taking Almond’s mask off. They lean in, sensing no rejection from Almond, they press a kiss to his cheek, chaste. It sets Almond’s heart ablaze. They put the mask back, covering the lipstick mark left behind.
He’s stunned for only a moment, before his eyes meet Roguefort’s. A soft smile graces his lips, reserved for this moment.
“Have a good night, Almond.”
“You too, Roguefort.”
Roguefort reluctantly pulls their hand from Almond’s, and he watches as they leave back down the hall. They turn the corner with a final parting glance over their shoulder, and then they’re gone. Almond’s heart is gone with them.
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The drive home is filled with Walnut’s excited, albeit tired, rambling. She talks about how she bribed a woman named Brute into not ripping up the rose bushes in the garden and alerting the guards. And then she went to an area of the ball more populated with kids her age— like Almond said— and she’d had a blast.
Almond was happy for her.
“Soooo…” She spoke as if it was an inquiry.
“So?” Almond replied.
“Did you catch Phantom Bleu?” She asks, like it was obvious. “I didn’t see any personnel come in, but I thought maybe you just kept it low-key. Cause of the ball, y’know?”
“Ah.” Almond sighs. “No, sweetie, not this time.”
“Aw man! Well, don’t feel bad, Dad,” she giggles at the rhyme, “I’m sure you got super close, right? They’re just conniving like that!”
“Mhm. Very conniving.” Almond agrees. His mind replays what happened over and over again, the feeling of lips against his, Roguefort’s eyes and how they’d trusted him. They didn’t get mad. They kissed back.
“Hey, Dad?”
“Yes Walnut?”
“What’s that mark on your cheek?”
Almond blinks and looks in the rear view mirror. His eyes widen as he brings a hand up to cover his face. Right. He’d totally forgotten to wipe the kiss mark off after he removed his mask.
“That- They- It’s nothing.” He clears his throat, keeping his eyes firmly on the road as he wipes at the mark. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”
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On the other side of the city, Roguefort walked leisurely through a park. It was nice this time of night, a great place to reflect.
Reflect on how their second favorite detective— Walnut’s the first, she’s very clever and keeps up with Roguefort’s quips— had kissed them on the mouth, and then allowed them to kiss him on the cheek.
They aren’t sure who has crossed what lines, but they know they’re going to be thinking about it non stop until they see him again. Almond kissing them was the last thing they expected when they told him to make a plan. It was a… pleasant surprise. Definitely not something they’ve considered and hoped for in the past. Definitely not making it harder to genuinely try to evade the man, in a legal sense.
It’s no matter, this is a good thing, even! They got what they came for, and then some. Speaking of, they reach into their pocket, taking out the glistening dark turquoise gem. They hold it in front of the moon, admiring the cut and translucent glow of the stone. What a sight.
As they slip it back into their pocket, they feel something else, and their heart stutters.
“Oh,” they fret, pulling out an envelope from their pocket. They were so caught up with Almond that they forgot to give him their next clue! Of course. They sigh, “I suppose I’ll be paying him a visit soon.”
They’re looking forward to it.