Work Text:
Zenigata lay in the bushes on the side of the road, ears ringing from the explosive car crash that had thrown him there, trying to piece together the events of the last minute. One moment, he'd been careening down the road in an ICPO van, losing ground to Lupin's fiat but still hot in pursuit. The next moment, a smaller squad car had darted out from an intersection, too late to intercept the Fiat but just in time to collide with the van.
The unknowable amount of time between then and now was a fragmented blur, marked by confusion, the smell of burning gasoline, and a sickening boom that still echoed around his skull.
Of the many high-speed crashes Zenigata had been in, this one might make the top 10. Usually he made it out of the vehicle before it went up in flames. The still-smoldering brim of his hat -- pushed forward in his vision by the rocky ground under his head, obscuring the otherwise lovely twilight sky above him along with the leafy bushes - told him that this may not have been the case today. He licked his thumb and middle finger, and pinched the brim to put it out.
His shoulder protested at the motion, proclaiming its intention to be thoroughly bruised come morning. It must have taken the brunt of his fall... yes, he'd rolled forward out of the driver's side door, hadn't he? He remembered the way the asphalt had bitten at him through his suit as he skidded from car to road to ditch. He stretched the limb out anyway, then did the same with the other arm and both legs. They all ached, but they all moved. He wobbled his head and, determining that nothing too important was broken, he sat slowly up, his eyes just barely clearing the top of the bushes.
The sight of the crash made him seriously consider just laying back down again. It was all fire and twisted metal, promising mountains of paperwork at best. At worst, it foretold funerals.
Some of his men, those who had avoided the worst of the collision, were moving throughout the scene. Some crouched around the twisted metal of the former squad car, some spread out, searching along the road. Alongside them was -
"LUPIN!" Before he registered what he was doing, Zenigata was on his feet, pain forgotten, pointing at the criminal he'd devoted his life to chasing. His entire crew was spread out, interspersed with officers, and they seemed to be... helping to sweep the scene. Lupin himself was frantically trying to get into the now-overturned and thoroughly exploded former ICPO van, hammering violently at the bulletproof windshield which was stained opaque black with soot. Upon hearing his name, snapped his head around to look at Zenigata. His expression, furrowed brows and gritted teeth, melted into a relieved smile at the sight of him. His shoulders dropped away from his ears as he dropped the crowbar.
"Get over here! You're- oof!" His words were cut short as Lupin, doing as he was told for the first and perhaps only time in his life, ran over to him and crushed him with an unexpected hug, the forceful impact of which made him take a step back to avoid falling backwards entirely. All of Lupin's deceptive strength went into squeezing him tightly enough to pop his spine. Zenigata patted awkwardly at his back, which was the most he could do with his arms pinned by his sides. "You're under arrest," he said, in the same way any other man might have said 'don't worry, I'm alright.'
Lupin took a step back to look him in the face, expression searching, serious. Zenigata grinned in a way that he hoped would be reassuring in spite of the ash and blood smeared on his face... and snapped a pair of handcuffs on Lupin's wrists. The thief looked down, and his mouth fell open with surprise. Then, slowly, he started to giggle; a small thing which turned into hysterical, uproarious laughter. Maybe it was the adrenaline talking, but Zenigata couldn't help but laugh as well.