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It had been a long day for the inspector. Two meetings before noon and a murder on the turn of the hour, though his morning marot spread had made for a swift and just conclusion. It had seemed a fine day to retire early to he and Logico’s apartment, just for their resident numerologist to squash his hopes and corral him into a meeting on finances. He had told them a million times he cared little for the details, that he had simply no qualms with financing expeditions or excursions- but lo and behold, it turned out Herbalist Onyx’s sub-legal plant smuggling budget had been cutting into dental. Irratino was a man who thrived on nonsense, but he was quickly relearning, not that sort.
So when he returned to he and Logico’s shared complex and heard the man greet him before he so much as let him know he’d returned, he nearly wept with joy to a simplistic, oh, you. There’s my great detective!
Had his partner, the stiff and firm Deductive Logico, given over the world of intuition? It was a small step, but he felt invigorated. Perhaps now Logico would take his hands, look into his eyes as if they were crystalline and complex (as he always did, for his detective was smitten and obvious even if he stuttered on telling him he loved him in return), and ask finally for Irratino’s spiritual guidance. Preferably starting with thinning out how intense his aura was, for he could become wrapped in a halo of smog if he wasn’t careful and still asked how Irratino was able to tell he needed a break he so gladly supplied.
Logico’s silhouette moved in the window of his private office, seemingly moving slow in the fluorescent lighting he had so painstakingly chosen. Perhaps his newfound embrace of the esoteric went deeper, and when he opened the door Logico would be waiting before him with some grand gesture- flowers, or vegan truffles, or perhaps nothing but himself, and only that clad? Irratino let the want fill his heart, running down his spine. He had had such spiritual lovers before, but never one as formidable as himself in wit and want and above all, passion. He was certain with enough guidance Logico could be nearly as connected as him (though, not nearly as adept). He smiled to himself, slipping open the door with usual but excited grace.
And before him, his partner, yes. His handsome, beautiful deductive. His logical, pestering quizzical detective.
“Oh, hello, Irratino,” Logico said, in his arms cradled not a gift of splendor nor his body stripped barren as a feast for the eyes, but Urchie. A delightful beastie for certain, and a lively addition to the dull and drab Logico-typical decor of his personal office, but he could not help but be a little disappointed. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“You didn’t?” Irratino’s voice betrayed the attempted stillness of his expression.
Logico shook his head, a well-groomed eyebrow raising as it always did when he found himself in thought. Oft was the gesture turned on his partner, who seemed to perplex him just as much if not more than he endeared him. “No. I was… preoccupied,” his eyes scanned over Urchie, who simply wiggled out of his arms.
Irratino tried to commit that there was certainly no reason to be jealous of a cat to mind, to remember how charmed he was when he learnt even a hard-boiled, jaded detective could be cracked by the whims of a cat mewling at their door, pushing his luck into sleeping now exclusively on Logico’s chest (which had been his spot, but he had excused it. Or he had tried to believe he had excused it).
“Did he interrupt one of your calls with the Detective Club again?” Perhaps it had been meant for someone else, not a greeting, but a simple thanks. Many of the younger recruits did look up to Logico.
“Ah,” Logico drew the sound, his empty hands visibly now heavier. The smog of stress began to coagulate. “I hadn’t realized you’d heard that. I was talking to Urchie,” Logico was keen to leave it there, but smart enough to clarify. “Not that we were conversing. I cannot speak to animals. As no one else can, to set the record.”
Irratino sighed. He hated to say Logico disappointed him at times, for he adored the man with fervor. But he had more than once gotten his hopes up on Logico finally coming around to the true world of the divine, to dislodge his head from the nonsense-sensical clouds of logic and reason and-
“Did you call our cat a detective?”
“Perhaps.” Logico’s climbing blush nearly quelled the disappointment entirely. Irratino laughed as he looked askew.
“How very illogical of you.”
“In my defense-” Logico began. He did have a rather fine explanation involving an unwelcome rodent who had begun chewing through his case materials. Urchie was not as so formidable as to defeat the critter, which would be pleasant for the inspector to hear, but his diligent work had let for a quick and proper relocation. A story he would have told Irratino if he had not brought his pointer finger to his lips and shushed him.
“Let me have this.”
Logico rolled his eyes and cracked a smile. He supposed, just the once, and with his beloved partner looking sheerly exhausted, he could yield. “It’s all yours.”