Chapter Text
“Don Sonnelino, huh…?”
Chance flipped their coin idly, staring at nothing while making random bets with themself. (They won every time—shocker.) Until they looked up and saw the disapproving look on Jane’s face; they offered a sheepish smile in reply as they stuffed the coin back into their pocket. Their gaze drifted askance, tactically hidden behind their sunglasses, and they watched their memories go by—every case they solved together, every drink they shared, every time they had managed to make him laugh, every…everything. Chance shook their head.
“...Yeah,” they answered finally. “Yeah, I know ‘em.”
Jane looked over the document on her desk, adjusting her glasses to better take in Chance’s information. “It says here you used to be partners with him,” she pointed out. Chance’s brows pinched. “Are you certain you can remain impartial on this case? Others are just as qualified.”
“Just as?” Chance repeated, turning his lips up in a cocky grin. “It’s a casino, boss. This is where I thrive!”
Jane raised her eyes to deal out a stare that was too observant for Chance's liking—too much like him. “That’s my point,” she deadpanned, unamused. “Outside of your addiction-” “Hey!” “-I gather that you were close with this Sonnelino, even outside of work. So I ask again: are you certain you can take this case?”
Chance had to hold himself back from replying too quickly, lest he give away the true answer. “Yes. I am.” He kept his voice firm, putting on a serious persona in the hopes of winning her over. No matter the situation, just seeing him one more time… Chance sighed mentally. And then locking him up. Of course.
Jane didn't move, nor did she reply. She eyed them carefully, and after picking up on no immediate red flags, exhaled and brought out the case files. “Acceptable,” she decided, “but you won’t be alone.” Chance blinked. She held a button on her machine and spoke into it. “Send him in.”
Chance turned their head in time to see the door to Jane’s office open, revealing the familiar rushed bun of their colleague, Elliot. “Elliot will be your partner for this case,” Jane clarified. Chance stared for a beat too long—Elliot meeting their eyes straight on in spite of the sunglasses between them—before they smiled. It was a bit crooked at first.
“Elliot!” he greeted cheerfully, opening his arms wide for a hug. Elliot repositioned Chance's arms for him and shook his hand instead. Chance chuckled. “Great to see you, man!” He pulled Elliot into a hug anyway, earning a tired huff of air.
After bringing out another copy of the case files, Jane held both out to each of them, waiting for the reunion to finish. Chance released Elliot in favor of taking the information his boss offered, skimming over it. While glancing it over, he turned on his heel and absentmindedly walked outside, assuming that was everything. Which he was right about, to be fair. Elliot noticed Chance’s absence a tad too late and hurried to follow, but before he could—
“No. I have something else to say, Jones,” Jane informed.
“Yes?” Elliot replied, stopping in his tracks.
“Shut the door, please.”
Chance stopped in their tracks as well, but from where they were by that point, everything was too muffled. Backtracking would make it obvious that they intended to eavesdrop, so they dropped it for now and kept walking.
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Chance didn't look where he was going, his eyes trained on the coin that flipped through the air with a satisfying sching! He knocked on the apartment door he had arrived at, still without lifting his gaze. The coin landed in his palm five times during the wait, and on the fifth, the door opened. Elliot looked to be in the middle of tying his hair up.
Only then did Chance look up and smile. “Hey, man! Been a while since we worked a case together, huh? May I?” Chance inclined their head, taking a step closer in question, and only continued on when Elliot nodded and stepped aside.
When Chance passed him, Elliot wrinkled his nose, shutting the door quietly. “You smell like you’ve been at a crappy bar,” he observed. “What were you doing at a crappy bar??”
Chance made himself comfortable on the couch, chuckling. “Right on the money, Eli! I was at a crappy bar,” he rhetorically answered. He waited just long enough to make Elliot question whether he’d continue, cupping his hands behind his head. “I was there cause I wanted a drink but couldn't get drunk.” Elliot raised an eyebrow, imploring him to elaborate, which he did so with slight exasperation. “I only get drunk on the good stuff, Eli. And I couldn't get drunk right before we discussed the case. Solution: crappy bar!”
Elliot observed him quietly, his eyes narrowed while he tried to make sense of the answer he’d been given. “You could've just…not drank?”
Chance’s expression dropped. Yeah, they’d heard that before. “Anyway.” They pulled the case files out from their jacket. “One of us has to go undercover, right?” Chance flashed a grin. “I think we both know which one of us is better for the job. Besides, Sonnelino won’t trust some rando, but there's a good chance he’ll trust me…with some convincing.”
Elliot nodded along, reading lines of text he had already read. “You do need to be careful,” he pointed out, now looking at Chance. “Have you got this covered?”
Chance waved their hand flippantly. “Psh. Totally.” Elliot didn't respond, holding Chance’s gaze for too long. They cleared their throat. “So, anyway—I’ll have to make a scene and act like I got fired, or this is a lost cause.” Chance tapped their chin. “Gotta make a big splash…”
“Would it be too much to fabricate a separate case?” Elliot theorized. “If you were close with the target, he’d know about your drinking problem-” “Not a problem!” “-and wouldn't be surprised if you spilled confidential information while inebriated.”
Chance screwed his face up, his mood dampening with a memory. “Eh… I dunno, I think he was trying to get me to talk while I was drunk, and it never actually worked—for obvious reasons. He wouldn't buy it.”
Elliot hummed in thought. “What if you were caught as an accomplice, then?” Chance straightened up, listening. “You love the thrill of the job, right? Surely he knows that.” They nodded, encouraging this train of thought. “What job is more thrilling than that of a secret agent?”
Chance snapped their fingers. “A criminal!” he exclaimed, seeing where Elliot was going with this. “Yeah, yeah, and—I know better than anyone that you can't rob a casino, but my luck is the best, so I get cocky!! I’d go for that, get caught by you guys, and flee by the skin of my teeth! Then, with nowhere else to go, I go to Don!” Their excitement flickered. “I mean—Sonnelino.”
Elliot didn't comment on their slip up, which Chance was grateful for, but they knew damn well he noticed it. He instead had stood up to retrieve his laptop, his fingers deftly grazing the keys while he typed up their plan. “This is good. We’ll have to have Mrs. Doe look it over tomorrow.”
Chance threw his head back with a loud sigh. Right. Approval. This plan will definitely work, but it’s still necessary… Whatever. “Ugh, okay, cool.” Chance straightened his jacket. “I’ll get to work on my act!” he sing-songed, standing with a flourish.
Before Chance could reach the door, Elliot called, “Wait.” He had looked up from his laptop. Chance turned, a quizzical expression on his features, and waited as requested. “Be careful.”
…
Chance grinned brightly. “Hah, obviously!” Then he turned, walking away with a spring in his steps. After he closed the door behind him, the smile fell.
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Sching! Tmp. Sching! Tmp. Sching! Tmp.
“Constantly.”
Chance blinked, looking up. Elliot stood with neater hair than usual and an expression that was beyond disappointed.
“You are constantly flipping that coin.”
A laugh burst out of his chest. Elliot gave a long sigh while Chance doubled over. Jane’s assistant pointedly cleared their throat, eyeing Chance with a vengeance. It was pretty justified, considering Chance is always disruptive when in the waiting room. Elliot turned to them and muttered an apology on his behalf.
Before long, Jane’s voice could be heard from the machine on the assistant’s desk. “Send them in.” She was, as always, right on time.
Chance strode in with swagger, Elliot politely following behind. “Heya, boss!” She addressed each of them with a professional nod, her expression neutral.
Elliot returned the nod. “Mrs. Doe.”
“So!” Chance began, speaking animatedly. “We’ve got a great plan! We just…” He paused, leaning his elbows on Jane’s desk. “...need that little stamp of yours.”
Elliot was going to run out of air to sigh out at this point. He handed Jane the document he had put together, detailing their plan for this case. Jane took it with a nod, unphased by Chance’s unnecessary bargaining.
“Hm…” She glanced at Chance. “It sounds risky. A good plan, yes, but you’ll be right in the middle of things, Cruise. Can you handle this professionally?”
Chance’s eyebrow twitched. Why does everyone keep asking me that? “Yeah, boss, I got this,” he replied, a bit exasperated. “So? Do we have approval on this? I can get started tonight!”
“No, you can't,” Jane calmly shut down. Chance’s grin dropped, annoyance prickling his anticipation. She kept her eyes on the paper, reading everything over thoroughly. “Mm…” Jane glanced briefly at Elliot. “Alright. Approved.” Chance pumped their fists and cheered while Jane stamped the files, sliding them back across the desk for Elliot to retrieve. “Send these to HQ, if you will.” Elliot nodded.
Chance turned to leave, but as they did, Jane called their name—“Cruise!”—with some urgency. Chance stopped and looked over their shoulder, implying that they were listening. “We need multiple weeks to prepare this plan, Cruise.” Chance groaned. “You will keep a low profile until then.”
Elliot turned scolding eyes on Chance, making him sigh and begrudgingly agree to these terms. “Fine, fine. But I’m headed into the field as soon as we're ready!” And with that, he was off.