Archive of Our Own

By morning, Tech expected the whole thing to have become irrelevant.

A night's rest, a fresh perspective, and perhaps a sufficiently demanding engineering project ought to have been enough to put the previous evening behind him. Whatever inexplicable impression Blue had left on him, it would surely fade once he returned to his usual routine.

Oh, how he wished that had been the case.

He woke up, completed his morning routine, reviewed three mission reports, and repaired a malfunctioning scanner before breakfast. By all reasonable measures, it was an entirely productive morning. And yet, somewhere between recalibrating the scanner and correcting a minor error in one of the mission reports, his thoughts circled back to Blue.

Again.

Tech paused over his datapad, his expression slowly tightening.

It wasn't that he was particularly interested in her. He simply disliked unanswered questions, and Blue had left him with an unreasonable number of them. Her name, for one. Her occupation, for another. The curious familiarity of her mannerisms, the inexplicable ease with which she seemed to know Rev, and the increasingly inconvenient fact that he couldn't recall the last time he'd gone more than an hour without thinking about her.

None of that was particularly significant on its own, of course. Taken together, however, it constituted a rather irritating distraction. By the third day, Tech had reached a decision. If Blue insisted on occupying valuable space in his thoughts, then he would simply find out everything there was to know about her. Once he had a satisfactory explanation for her peculiarities, he could put the matter to rest and return to more worthwhile pursuits.

Research was the obvious solution. Research was always the solution. Unfortunately, his subject appeared to have made a concerted effort to remain untraceable. The charity gala's guest list was classified, and the publicly available records yielded nothing useful. Facial recognition software proved marginally more productive, identifying several hundred potential matches from the footage Tech had managed to obtain.

None of them were particularly promising. One was a retired opera singer. Another was a minor celebrity with an extensive collection of expensive hats. A third had an outstanding warrant for tax fraud, which Tech found impressive in a purely administrative sense.

He was reasonably confident that none of them were Blue. For one thing, none of them were roadrunners. Tech leaned back in his chair, staring at the results on his screen. The distinction should have narrowed his search considerably. Instead, it only raised further questions.

Because if Blue was a roadrunner, then why had she gone to such lengths to disguise herself? Why use a false name? Why attend the gala in the first place? And, perhaps most annoyingly, why did he have the distinct impression that he was missing something painfully obvious?

His gaze drifted toward the open laboratory door. Rev had been unusually difficult to question about the gala. Not that Tech had actually questioned him, naturally. He had merely made a few casual inquiries, all of which Rev had answered with his usual assortment of tangents, jokes, and entirely unhelpful observations.

At the time, Tech had dismissed the exchange as another example of Rev's inability to provide a straightforward answer to anything. Now, he wasn't quite so certain. Tech turned back to his monitor and reopened the footage. Perhaps a more detailed analysis of Blue's movements would reveal something he'd overlooked. A familiar gesture, a habitual tilt of the head, some minute behavioral inconsistency that might identify her.

It was a perfectly reasonable course of action. Entirely professional. And had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that, when he closed his eyes, he could still remember the way Blue had smiled at him.

“Heyya, Tech! Whatcha doing?” Rev's voice rang out from somewhere above him.

Tech didn't bother looking up immediately. He'd learned that whenever Rev announced his presence, there was usually something about it that warranted a moment of silence.

Sure enough, when he finally lifted his gaze, Rev was hanging upside down from the laboratory ceiling, his crest feathers dangling toward the floor and his grin practically splitting his face in two. How he'd gotten up there was anyone's guess. Tech had long since stopped asking. At some point, one simply had to accept that the laws of physics were more of a suggestion to Rev than an actual set of rules.

“I'm working,” Tech answered, returning his attention to the monitor.

“Working on what?” Rev swung slightly from whatever precarious hold he'd managed to find. His eyes drifted toward the screen, narrowing with curiosity as he tried to make out the information displayed there.

Tech minimized the search window. It was a perfectly ordinary, entirely reflexive action. One that, unfortunately, he executed just a fraction of a second too late. Rev gasped. Not a normal gasp, either. It was an extravagant, theatrical noise, accompanied by a hand pressed dramatically against his chest. “You're hiding secrets from me! That's not you at all!”

“I'm protecting myself from unnecessary commentary,” Tech replied flatly.

“Awww.” Rev's expression brightened with the sort of enthusiasm that immediately made Tech regret having answered him. With a quick release of his legs, Rev dropped from the ceiling and landed beside Tech's chair with barely a sound. He leaned over the backrest, peering at the now thoroughly uninteresting desktop. “Now I definitely wanna know.”

“You do not.”

“I do.”

“You really don't.” Tech sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I really do!” Rev insisted, leaning farther over his shoulder as though sheer proximity might somehow grant him access to the minimized window. “C'mon, Tech. What is it? Secret invention? Classified mission stuff? A list of everyone you think is annoying?”

“I would need a considerably larger database for that last one.”

“Ooh, so there is a list!”

“There is no list.”

“That's exactly what someone with a list would say.”

Tech gave him a long, unimpressed look. Rev responded with a dazzling grin, entirely undeterred. This was fine. Perfectly manageable.

Rev's attention span, under ordinary circumstances, lasted approximately forty-five seconds. All Tech needed to do was remain uninteresting long enough for his colleague to find something else to occupy himself with. It was a strategy he'd employed successfully on numerous occasions, and he saw no reason why it wouldn't work now.

He turned back to his monitor and resumed his research. For several seconds, Rev remained beside him, rocking on his heels and attempting to catch a glimpse of the screen. Then his gaze wandered toward the workbench. His crest feathers lifted.

“Oh, hey! Is that screw supposed to be sticking out like that?”

Tech's fingers stopped moving.

Rev was already halfway across the laboratory, crouching beside a nearby machine to inspect the offending screw with the grave concentration of someone who'd just discovered a national security threat.

“I don't think that's supposed to do that,” Rev announced.

“It's a screw, Rev.”

“Yeah, but it's a loose screw.”

“How observant of you.”

“Thanks!”

Tech stared at him for a moment, uncertain whether he ought to feel relieved or insulted by how effortlessly he'd been abandoned in favor of a piece of hardware. Possibly both.

He turned back to his monitor, restored the search window, and continued his investigation. Whatever questions Rev might have asked were now being directed at the machine instead, accompanied by a running commentary that Tech did his best to ignore.

For the moment, at least, Blue remained a secret. And if Tech found himself wondering whether Rev would recognize her name, her face, or the peculiar little tilt of her head, well— that was hardly relevant to the research.

Over the following week, Tech began noticing things. Small, trivial things. The sort of details he would ordinarily have dismissed as inconsequential, had they not begun accumulating at an increasingly inconvenient rate. It started on a Tuesday afternoon, when Rev walked into the laboratory carrying two cups of coffee.

Tech glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps, intending to offer a distracted greeting before returning to his work. Instead, his attention snagged on something rather peculiar. Rev was holding the cups with both hands, carefully, too. His fingers were curled securely around the cardboard sleeves, his wrists held steady as he navigated the cluttered laboratory. He even slowed down when passing the workbench, avoiding a loose cable sprawled across the floor rather than attempting his usual maneuver of hopping over it at the last possible second.

Tech blinked.

It was such a small thing that he nearly dismissed it. People carried coffee carefully all the time. There was nothing unusual about that. It was, in fact, the sensible way to transport a hot beverage, and Tech would have been more than happy to explain the relevant principles of fluid dynamics had anyone asked.

The trouble was that Rev did not, by any conventional measure, qualify as an ordinary individual but unique.

Rev was the same individual who treated beverages as accessories to whatever disaster he happened to be creating. He drank half a cup, forgot where he'd put it, and discovered it three hours later beneath a pile of circuit boards. He knocked drinks over with his elbows, his tail, or occasionally his own feet, somehow managing to spill liquid over surfaces that should have been physically impossible to reach. On one particularly memorable occasion, he'd managed to leave an entire cup of coffee inside the ventilation system.

Tech still had no idea how he'd accomplished that. He suspected he never would. Yet here Rev was, moving through the laboratory with all the caution of someone transporting a volatile chemical.

Tech watched him approach his workstation. Rev adjusted his grip when one of the cups began to tilt, steadied it before a single drop could escape, and resumed walking without so much as a wobble. When he finally reached the desk, he leaned forward and placed one cup beside Tech's keyboard.

Not too close to the edge. Not on top of the scattered tools. Not anywhere near the open circuitry he'd been working on. He even turned the cup so the lid's drinking opening faced away from the equipment. Tech's eyes followed the movement. Then Rev straightened, holding his own coffee in one hand, and flashed him a familiar, bright-eyed smile.

"Thought you might want this," Rev said.

For a moment, Tech simply stared at him.

Then he looked down at the coffee, inspecting it as though it might contain some previously undiscovered technological marvel. It was an ordinary cup of coffee. The smell suggested it was fresh, and the lid appeared to be properly secured. Nothing about it warranted the amount of scrutiny he was giving it.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze back to Rev.

"You brought me coffee?" Tech asked.

"Yep!" Rev replied, rocking back on his heels. He looked entirely pleased with himself, "Got one for me, one for you. Two coffees, two caffeine-deprived Loonatics. Pretty straightforward math, right?"

"Yes. I'm familiar with the concept."

"Great! Then we're already off to a fantastic start."

Tech's eyes narrowed a fraction. Rev was smiling at him with his usual uncomplicated enthusiasm, apparently oblivious to the fact that he'd just performed an act of consideration so unusual that it had brought Tech's train of thought to a complete halt.

Tech glanced at the cup again.

"Thank you," he said at last. After a brief pause, he added, "But why?"

Rev's smile faltered—not disappearing entirely, but shifting into something a little more uncertain. He glanced at his own coffee, then back at Tech, as though the question had genuinely surprised him.

Rev shrugged. "Do you really have to analyze every single thing I do? You looked tired, so I made you some coffee. Seemed pretty straightforward to me. Honestly, I was gonna try dragging you out of the lab instead, but you've been glued to your workstation all week doing... whatever it is you've been researching. Seriously, I've seen less dedication from people trying to solve world hunger."

Tech blinked. That was not an answer he had expected. He said it so casually. As though it hadn't occurred to him that Tech might find the gesture unusual. As though remembering someone else's preferences, anticipating their needs, and taking the time to bring them something they liked were all perfectly ordinary things to do.

"You noticed?" he asked.

"Of course I noticed." Rev leaned casually against the desk. "You get this little wrinkle between your eyebrows whenever you've been staring at screens too long."

Before he could stop himself, Tech's hand rose to his forehead. His fingers brushed the space between his brows, searching for the alleged imperfection. Rev immediately burst out laughing. "There! You're doing it again."

Tech lowered his hand with as much dignity as he could salvage. "I do not have a wrinkle."

"You totally do." Rev grinned, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "You've been staring at screens so much this week that you're starting to look like one of those exhausted professors in documentaries. Y'know, the ones who forget what year it is and survive entirely on coffee, I'd say you look like you're in your forties."

Tech stared at him over the rim of his cup. "I'm twenty-two."

"Exactly! That's the concerning part." Rev gestured at him with his own coffee, nearly sloshing some over the lid before hastily steadying the cup with both hands. "I'm two years younger than you, and I don't look like that."

"You do not look like what?"

"Like you haven't slept since the invention of electricity."

"I sleep perfectly adequately."

"Uh-huh. And I'm the prince of Acmetropolis."

"That would explain several things about your bratty behavior."

Rev gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Wow. Rude. I'm trying to help you here!"

"By informing me that I've prematurely aged two decades?"

"Not decades! Just, y'know..." Rev squinted at him, apparently searching for a more diplomatic description. After a moment, he snapped his fingers. "Okay, fine. It's more like a tiny angry line."

Tech's expression grew increasingly unwelcoming.

"And," Rev continued, apparently incapable of recognizing an opportunity to stop talking even when it was presented directly to him, "your eyebags are more visible now, too."

Tech stared at him. For several seconds, the laboratory fell quiet except for the low hum of the equipment around them. Rev's grin faltered slightly beneath the weight of Tech's unimpressed gaze, although the unmistakable amusement in his eyes remained.

"That," Tech said at last, his voice dangerously even, "is worse."

Rev's grin widened as he laughed again. Tech looked away at the familiar laughter. His fingers tightened slightly around the stylus in his hand. He had heard that laugh again. His thoughts immediately drifted back to the gala. Blue. The woman in the red dress. The way she had laughed when he'd accidentally stepped on her foot. The way she had tried to hide it behind her hand only for her shoulders to betray her anyway. How she'd tilted her head whenever he became too serious at observing. The way she'd told him to relax.

Tech slowly looked back at Rev. Rev was no longer paying attention to him. He had picked up a screwdriver from the desk and was twirling it between his fingers absentmindedly. The resemblance was ridiculous. Not physical nor obvious. Nothing that anyone else would notice.

It was the little things. The same head tilt, the same habit of glancing away when embarrassed, the same way their shoulders shook when they laughed, the same tendency to answer questions with increasingly terrible answers. Tech's eyes narrowed.

Rev immediately noticed. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

Rev pointed the screwdriver at him. "That's bullshit."

"Because there is nothing from the start."

"Uh-huh." The disbelief in Rev's voice was impossible to miss. He reached for the coffee, took a sip, and instantly made a face. "Ugh.. Too bitter. I can't believe anyone would even drink such coffee like this one."

Tech raised an eyebrow. "You were the one who brought it."

"Yeah, but I was curious why you even like strong coffee." Rev looked down at the cup with betrayal in his eyes. "Then I remembered I don't actually like coffee."

Tech stared. Rev stared back. Neither moved.

Then Rev smiled and thrust his cup toward Tech. There was still a faint coffee trail along the rim where he'd just been drinking from it.

"You want some of mine?" he asked.

Tech glanced at the cup, the unmistakable evidence that Rev's beak had already been on it. Before looking back at Rev. "No thanks, you already brought one for me."

"Good." Rev immediately took another sip.

Tech's expression flattened. "Then why did you offer it?"

Rev shrugged. "I don't know, just felt like doing it."

Tech sighed and turned his attention back toward his monitor. The search results blurred slightly in front of him. He had spent the better part of a week trying to identify Blue, and somehow every clue he uncovered only made the mystery more confusing. Perhaps he was approaching this incorrectly. Perhaps he needed more information. Fortunately, there was one obvious source of information he had somehow overlooked.

Tech glanced sideways. The roadrunner was now balancing the coffee cup on one finger while trying to tighten a screw with the other hand. Tech watched the disaster unfold for several seconds before speaking. "Rev."

"Yeah?" Rev answered without looking up from the screw he was currently trying to balance on the tip of his finger.

"How well do you know Blue?"

The screw slipped. Rev caught it before it hit the floor. For perhaps half a second, his expression went completely blank. Then his smile returned. "Blue?" he repeated.

Tech nodded. "The woman from the gala."

"Oh." Rev looked away. "Her." Now that's odd. Rev's finally getting quiet and less talkative when Tech mentioned her.

"Yes. Her." Tech turned his chair toward him. "I believe THAT was what I said, so do you?"

"I mean..." He scratched the back of his neck. "Depends on your definition of know."

"There is only one definition." Tech stared.

"No, there are several. Like, I know Ace. I know where the emergency snack cabinet is. I know that if Duck says 'trust me' I should start running. Those are all different kinds of knowing." Rev pointed at him. "Also, don't do that."

"Do what?"

"The stare you're doing right now."

"I'm looking at you."

"Exactly. That's your interrogation stare."

Tech folded his arms. "You are stalling. Just tell me would ya?"

"Wrong! I am providing examples."

"You are stalling with examples."

"Okay, that's fair."

Tech's eyes narrowed slightly. "You told her about me."

Rev's eyes widened. "Did I?"

"She said you had."

"Huh." The response came a little too quickly.

"You don't seem surprised," Tech observed.

"Oh, I'm very surprised."

"You don't sound surprised."

Rev considered that. "Maybe I'm surprised quietly."

Tech stared at him. Rev offered a nervous smile. "She didn't tell you anything weird though, right?"

"Define the term 'weird'."

Rev opened his mouth, then immediately closed it again. "Uh..." He glanced toward the ceiling as though searching for inspiration. "Anything involving me?"

"That does not narrow it down. Alright, lets start with what you had mentioned me."

Rev went quiet as Tech is closing the gap between them.

"I mention you all the time."

"Apparently."

"T-to be fair, you keep giving me material." Rev stutters.

One of Tech's eyebrows rose slightly. "Material? What do you mean by that?"

"Last week you spent twenty minutes arguing with a coffee machine." Rev pointed at him immediately, as though he'd been waiting for the question.

"It was malfunctioning."

"It was unplugged."

"That is not the point." Tech sat up a little straighter. "Why would anyone even unplug the coffee machine?"

"Yes it is! You're literally a genius. You can solve advanced equations in less than two minutes, build interdimensional technology which I think is super incredible, and explain quantum mechanics to people who definitely didn't ask but I don't mind listening you even though I'm certain I'd get lost into it. But the second a coffee machine stops working, you declare war on it."

Tech looked mildly offended. "I did not declare war on it."

"You threatened to dismantle it."

"It was a troubleshooting procedure."

"It was a coffee machine."

The corner of Rev's mouth twitched. Tech stayed quiet and looked away. Unfortunately, that was all the confirmation Rev needed. The roadrunner immediately pointed at him triumphantly. "See? You remember."

"I remember because you told everyone."

"Exactly. Great story." Rev snapped his fingers.

"You are impossible."

"Yet very lovable."

The response came automatically without hesitation, without much thought. For a brief moment, neither of them seemed to realize what had just been said. The grin on Rev's face faltered. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. A second later he turned his head so quickly it looked painful. "Moving on."

Tech narrowed his eyes. That's interesting. A silence settled between them. Not an uncomfortable one. Just long enough for both of them to pretend nothing strange had happened. It lasted approximately three seconds.

"Most of what I say is nice, anyway."

Tech narrowed his eyes.

"Most?"

"Fine. All of it."

"That sounds suspicious."

"You think everything sounds suspicious." Rev pressed a hand dramatically against his chest.

"You are behaving suspiciously."

"That's because you're interrogating me in a laboratory."

"You work in a laboratory."

"Yeah, but usually you're fixing robots and inventing cool stuffs instead of dissecting my soul."

Tech pinched the bridge of his nose. "Rev."

"Right." The roadrunner straightened then immediately slouched again. His attention span appeared to be fighting a losing battle against his own nervousness. Another pause.

"I mostly tell people you're smart."

Tech nodded. "That seems reasonable."

"I also tell them you're weird."

Tech's ears twitched, his expression immediately shifted into one of mild offense. Before he could object, Rev raised a finger. "You alphabetized the spare batteries."

"They were mislabeled."

"You own three identical toolkits."

"They serve different purposes."

"You named two of them."

Tech hesitated. "W- Well.. they earned names."

Rev laughed so hard he nearly slid off the couch. "See? This is what I'm talking about. The fact that you genuinely believe toolkits can earn names."

Tech frowned, he reluctantly admitted that wasn't entirely unfair. "They can."

Rev's laughter only intensified. For a moment Tech considered throwing him out of the lab. Not seriously. Mostly. Eventually Rev's laughter settled into a grin.

"And..." The word came quieter, almost absentmindedly. The grin faded around the edges. The shift was subtle enough that most people would've missed it but Tech didn't.

"And?"

Rev rubbed the back of his neck, his usual restless energy seeming to falter all at once. His gaze wandered toward the far wall, settling on a spot that was considerably more interesting than Tech's face. For once, he appeared to be searching for the right words rather than simply saying whatever happened to cross his mind.

"You're very nice," Rev murmured. After a brief pause, he added, almost as an afterthought, "At least to me."

Tech blinked.

The words seemed to catch Rev off guard as much as they caught Tech. His crest feathers twitched, and his fingers tightened slightly around his coffee cup. For a moment, neither of them spoke. It was a different sort of silence from their usual exchanges, one without the familiar rhythm of teasing remarks and immediate retorts. Softer, somehow. And considerably more awkward,

Rev visibly winced. "Wow.. I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"You rarely do." Tech replied.

A small embarrassed laugh escaped Rev. He ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck again. "Yeah.. That's true."

Tech watched him quietly. Rev was usually impossible to embarrass. He would sing at the top of his lungs in public, dance on tables without the slightest provocation, and make a complete spectacle of himself if he thought it might get a laugh. Embarrassment seemed to be an emotion he had simply forgotten to develop. Yet a simple compliment had apparently managed to bring him to a standstill.

"I just mean people think you're scary until they actually know you." Rev explained, still avoiding Tech's eyes. "Then they realize you're just a giant nerd with social skills held together by duct tape."

The softness immediately vanished. Tech's expression flattened. "What does that mean?"

"Well, you're kind of famous and good-looking."

Tech raised an eyebrow. "Really? Within our team?"

Rev shook his head. "Within my brain."

Tech paused.

Rev froze.

For one horrifying second, the roadrunner looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him. "Not like—" Rev immediately began waving both hands. "I mean, you're in my brain because we're best friends! Not literally. Obviously. Unless you invented some kind of brain thing without telling me, which, honestly, wouldn't surprise me, but that's not what I meant!"

The explanation somehow made everything worse. Rev seemed to realize this halfway through his sentence, judging by the way his gestures became increasingly frantic.

"I'm sorry," he rushed on. "I don't know what's gotten into me. I know how that sounded. Very st—"

"It sounded exactly how it sounded," Tech interrupted.

Rev's beak snapped shut.

For a brief moment, he appeared to consider whether pretending to have lost his ability to speak would be a viable escape strategy. Unfortunately, Tech knew him too well for that to work.

"I just meant you're important," Rev said at last, his voice noticeably smaller. He resumed gesturing, apparently unable to help himself. "Not important-important. Just regular important. Like, best-friend important. Which is still important! Obviously! I mean, you're my best friend, so—"

He stopped.

Tech continued staring at him.

Rev stared back for approximately half a second before his gaze darted away again.

"Okay, I feel like I'm talking too much." He drew in a breath and pressed his lips together. "I'm just gonna shut up." To demonstrate his commitment, he buried his face in both hands.

Tech waited. A few seconds passed. Then a few more. Finally, Rev cautiously lowered his hands, peeking at Tech through the gaps between his fingers. Whatever expression he found on the coyote's face seemed to encourage him, because he straightened and nodded to himself.

Tech continued staring. Rev slowly lowered his hands. "There," he said confidently. "I fixed it."

"Rev." Tech's tone remained completely flat. "You made it worse."

Rev groaned. "That's one of my specialty."

For once, Tech found himself struggling not to smile, he almost smiled. Almost.

It was ridiculous, really. Rev had spent the better part of the last several minutes tripping over his own words, transforming a perfectly ordinary compliment into an increasingly elaborate catastrophe. There was no reason for Tech to find any of it particularly amusing.

And yet, there was something strangely endearing about watching Rev struggle to explain himself. Something about the way his crest feathers lowered whenever he grew embarrassed, or how he kept trying to rescue each sentence only to dig himself into a deeper hole. Tech found himself wondering, briefly, whether Rev had always been this easy to fluster when it came to things that mattered to him.

Before he could examine that thought any further, a sharp buzz broke through the quiet laboratory. Rev's communicator vibrated against his hip. The sound cut through the room. Tech immediately noticed the change in him. It was subtle, very subtle, but it was there. Rev looked down at the screen before his eyes widened. Then he quickly turned the communicator away. Tech's suspicion sharpened.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"No one."

"You received a message."

"Yep."

"From no one?" Tech stared at him.

"Exactly." Rev stared back.

Neither blinked.

"That is impossible." Tech stated.

Rev shrugged. "Not if no one has a phone."

Tech continued staring.

Rev continued smiling.

Unfortunately for Rev, his smile grew more strained with every passing second. His eyes darted toward the laboratory door, then back to Tech, as though he were calculating the odds of making a successful escape without attracting further questions. Apparently deciding that his chances were better if he simply stopped providing visual evidence of his guilt, he very slowly slipped the communicator into his pocket.

Tech followed the movement with his eyes. "Rev."

"Tech."

"Really.. Who messaged you?"

"No one."

"You are so terrible at lying."

Rev placed a hand against his chest. "I'm actually pretty good."

"You are currently sweating."

Rev immediately wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "...It's hot in here."

Tech glanced toward the wall display. "The laboratory temperature is eighteen degrees Celsius."

Rev paused. "Emotionally hot."

Tech stared. "That's bullshit and it makes no sense."

"Exactly." Rev exclaimed, seizing the opportunity with the enthusiasm of someone who had just been handed a winning argument. "See? You get it!"

"I was not agreeing with you."

"Could've fooled me."

Tech pinched the bridge of his nose. He was beginning to understand why interrogations were traditionally conducted by people with considerably more patience than he possessed. Rev had a remarkable talent for turning the simplest exchange into an exercise in futility.

"Y'know what? Fine." Tech dropped his hand and leaned back in his chair. "Have it your way. Keep your secrets. I have more important things to do than investigate whatever ridiculous scheme you've gotten yourself involved in."

Rev's expression brightened immediately.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"You're not gonna ask me again?"

"No."

"Or try to look at my communicator?"

"Rev."

"Right! Okay! Great!" Rev nodded a little too enthusiastically. "Fantastic. Love that. Love the trust."

Tech gave him a look that suggested his trust was currently in critically short supply.

Rev, wisely, decided not to comment on it.

Instead, he reached for his coffee cup. "Well, I gotta go! See ya!"

Tech blinked as Rev abruptly turned toward the door. "You came here specifically just to give me coffee."

"Mission accomplished."

"You have been here for less than ten minutes."

"Ten productive minutes." But the roadrunner was already moving. He hurried across the laboratory and reached the doorway before Tech could stop him. Then he paused.

"Rev—" For a moment, he stood there with one hand resting against the frame. Slowly, he looked back. Their eyes met and there it was again.

That expression. The same strange softness Tech had seen that night on the balcony. The same look Blue had given him. Relief and Affection. Something warmer than either.

Rev smiled. "See ya later, Techy." Then he disappeared down the corridor before Tech could respond.

The laboratory suddenly felt much quieter. Tech remained perfectly still.

Techy.

Again. His gaze dropped toward the abandoned coffee beside his workstation. Then shifted to the doorway. Then back to the coffee. Something about this was wrong. Not dangerous. Not alarming. Just wrong in the sense that several completely unrelated details were beginning to form a pattern.

Tech leaned back in his chair and stared at the screen. This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. There was no logical reason to suspect that his best friend was secretly the woman he'd met at a charity gala. Was it because he's that desperate for a mate?

The idea was absurd. Irrational. Impossible. And yet, for the first time since meeting Blue, Tech had the distinct feeling that he was finally looking in the right direction.

The next morning, Rev was gone.

Not missing. Not in danger. Not, as far as Tech could determine, involved in any sort of catastrophic incident requiring immediate intervention.

Just... gone.

Under ordinary circumstances, this wouldn't have been particularly remarkable. Rev had a talent for appearing and disappearing whenever he pleased, often without warning and occasionally without any apparent regard for the laws of physics. However, he also had a talent for being everywhere else at once. The kitchen, the gym, the laboratory, the common room—if there was a place in headquarters where Rev wasn't supposed to be, there was a reasonably good chance that was precisely where he'd gone.

Yet when Tech entered the common room that morning, there was no sign of him. Lexi was sprawled across one end of the couch, scrolling through her communicator with the practiced indifference of someone who'd long ago learned to tune out the majority of Duck's complaints. Duck occupied the opposite end, gesturing wildly at the television as though the presenter could somehow hear him through the screen.

"...and I'm telling you, if they wanted a host with actual charisma, they should've called me."

"They don't know who you are," Lexi replied without looking up.

"They absolutely know who I am."

"They don't."

"They do."

Tech stopped in the doorway. He'd been awake for approximately forty minutes, and already he regretted getting out of bed. He considered turning around and returning to the laboratory. There were several unfinished projects waiting for him, a backlog of mission reports, and a particularly stubborn piece of equipment that would undoubtedly prove more pleasant company than the two individuals currently occupying the couch.

Unfortunately, one of those individuals might possess information he needed. Tech walked into the room. Neither Lexi nor Duck seemed particularly surprised to see him. Duck, however, immediately seized upon his arrival as an opportunity to recruit another unwilling participant into his argument.

"Tech! Settle this."

"I refuse."

"You haven't even heard the question!"

"I have heard enough." Tech walked past him and turned toward Lexi. "Have either of you seen Rev?"

Lexi finally looked up from her communicator. "Not since breakfast."

Duck immediately twisted around on the couch, apparently delighted by the change in subject. "Yeah, Speedy vanished."

Tech's attention sharpened.

"Vanished?"

Duck waved a hand dismissively. "You know. Left. Disappeared. Zoomed away dramatically. Pick your favorite."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"Nope," Duck and Lexi answered in unison. Lexi returned her attention to her screen, though a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Actually, he said he'd be 'back later.'"

Tech frowned. "That's all?"

"Yep," Duck confirmed. He leaned forward, lowering his voice as though he were about to reveal classified information. "He was being weird about it, too."

That got Tech's attention. "Weird how?"

Duck pointed vaguely toward the hallway. "He had that giant bag."

Tech's head turned toward him. "The duffel bag?"

Both Lexi and Duck looked at him. For a moment, nobody spoke. Tech realized, a fraction of a second too late, that he'd responded with rather more certainty than the situation warranted.

Lexi slowly lowered her communicator. "Yeah," she said. "The duffel bag."

Duck narrowed his eyes. "How do you know exactly which bag we're talking about?"

"I do not."

"You literally identified it." Duck argued back.

"By description." Tech regarded him with the cool, measured expression he generally reserved for malfunctioning machines and people who insisted on arguing with established scientific principles.

"There was no description." Duck stared back, apparently determined to win a battle that had no discernible objective.

Tech decided the exchange wasn't worth pursuing. "When did he leave?" he asked.

Lexi glanced at the time on her communicator. "Maybe an hour ago."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"Nope."

Tech fell silent.

An hour.

Rev had left headquarters an hour ago, carrying a duffel bag large enough to accommodate a considerable amount of equipment, and apparently hadn't bothered to tell anyone where he was going. This alone was unusual enough to warrant attention. Rev wasn't exactly famous for planning ahead, but he generally announced his intentions to anyone unfortunate enough to be within earshot.

More importantly, Tech had seen that bag before.

He'd seen Rev carrying it down the corridor several days earlier, only for the roadrunner to become inexplicably evasive when asked about its contents. He'd also seen the same peculiar behavior surrounding Rev's communicator: the sudden secrecy, the suspiciously elaborate excuses, and the increasingly desperate attempts to change the subject.

Now Rev was gone, and the bag had gone with him. Tech stared at the floor, his thoughts assembling themselves into an increasingly uncomfortable pattern.

The same bag.

The same secrecy.

And absolutely no explanation.

"Wait. We're talking about the Mystery Bag, right?" Duck suddenly sat upright, snapping his fingers as though he'd just remembered something of tremendous importance.

Tech froze. "The what?"

"The Mystery Bag." Duck leaned back against the couch, folding his arms with an air of profound satisfaction. "I've been observing the situation for three days. Carefully. Methodically. Unlike certain people around here, I know how to recognize a developing mystery when I see one."

Lexi glanced up from her communicator. "You tried to open it when Rev left it unattended."

"I was investigating."

"You were looking for money."

"I was investigating the possibility of money."

Tech pinched the bridge of his nose. "What exactly have you observed?"

Duck held up a finger. "First, Rev has been sneaking around with that bag for three days. Second, he refuses to tell anyone what's inside. Third, he left headquarters without telling us where he was going."

"Yes. I gathered that much."

"Then you'll appreciate that I've already developed several theories." Duck grinned. "And, naturally, I'm the only one qualified to investigate them."

"Naturally," Lexi echoed dryly.

"Now, my first theory is that he's hiding something valuable. Possibly treasure. Possibly money. Either way, if he finds it, I think we can all agree that the team deserves a cut."

"Why would you be entitled to a cut?" Tech asked.

"Because I'm on the team."

"That is not how ownership works."

"It is when I say it is."

Lexi snorted.

Duck ignored her. "My second theory is that he's got a secret admirer. Which, frankly, raises some questions about his judgment, because if anyone around here deserves a secret admirer, it's me."

Tech stared at him.

"What?" Duck demanded. "Have you looked at me? I'm a catch."

"Your modesty is truly inspiring."

"Thank you. I work hard on it."

Tech turned back toward the door, apparently deciding that further discussion would only encourage him.

"Where are you going?" Duck called.

"To the laboratory, I've heard enough. Thanks."

"Fine, but if you discover anything, I expect to be informed immediately. I refuse to let you take sole credit for a case I've been investigating for three days."

"You have been investigating nothing."

"And yet, somehow, I'm still ahead of you."

Tech stopped in the doorway.

He turned his head just enough to look at Duck over his shoulder. "You have no evidence, no viable hypothesis, and apparently no understanding of the word 'investigation.'"

Duck scoffed. "Oh, please. Evidence is what you collect *after* you figure out what's going on. I'm working on the figuring-out part."

"That is not—"

"Besides, if you had any real investigative instincts, you'd have noticed the bag three days ago." Duck gestured grandly toward himself. "But you didn't. I did. Which means, technically speaking, I'm the lead investigator."

Lexi finally put her communicator down. "You only noticed because Rev wouldn't let you look inside."

"Details."

"You asked him if he was carrying money."

"I was establishing a motive."

"You asked if you could borrow some."

"I was testing his willingness to cooperate with the investigation."

Tech stared at Duck for a long moment.

"I see."

"Good. Then you'll understand why I should be involved when you inevitably discover what he's hiding."

"I have no intention of involving you."

"Well, that's a terrible decision. You'll want someone with charisma to handle the public relations side of the case."

"There is no public relations side."

"There will be when I solve it."

Tech decided that the conversation had reached the limit of its usefulness. He turned and continued down the corridor, leaving Duck to mutter something about the thanklessness of working alongside people who couldn't recognize exceptional talent when it was sitting right in front of them.

He'd made it approximately six steps before Duck called after him again.

"Hey! At least tell me what you think is in the bag!"

Tech didn't stop walking.

"Nothing that concerns you."

"That's not an answer!"

"It's the only one you're getting."

"Fine!" Duck shouted. "When I figure it out before you do, don't come crying to me!"

"I assure you, that is unlikely."

"That's what they all say!"

The laboratory doors slid shut behind Tech, mercifully cutting off the remainder of Duck's complaints.

For several seconds, Tech stood in the quiet, appreciating the absence of unnecessary noise. Then he crossed to his workstation and woke his computer from its standby mode.

He had work to do.

More specifically, he had a missing roadrunner, a suspicious duffel bag, and a growing collection of unanswered questions.

The first step was to establish where Rev had gone.

Tech accessed the headquarters' security records and pulled up the exterior camera feeds from that morning. It took him less than a minute to locate the relevant footage.

There was Rev, leaving through the main entrance with the aforementioned bag slung over one shoulder.

Tech paused the recording.

The bag looked heavier than it had the last time he'd seen it. Its contents shifted slightly as Rev adjusted the strap, and something near the bottom appeared to have a rigid, rectangular shape. Equipment, perhaps. Or clothing. It was difficult to tell from the camera angle.

Tech advanced the footage.

Rev glanced over his shoulder before leaving the premises.

Then he did something that made Tech lean closer to the screen.

He smiled.

Not his usual broad, thoughtless grin, nor the sheepish expression he'd worn in the laboratory the previous afternoon. This was smaller, more private. The sort of smile one might wear when anticipating something pleasant.

Tech replayed the moment.

Once.

Twice.

On the third viewing, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the screen.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," he muttered.

He was doing it again. Analyzing a perfectly ordinary facial expression as though it were a complicated mathematical equation. There were any number of reasons Rev might have smiled before leaving headquarters. Perhaps he'd remembered a joke. Perhaps he'd found a particularly entertaining video on his communicator. Perhaps he'd simply been happy to get out of the building.

There was no reason to assume it had anything to do with Blue.

Except that Rev had been acting strangely ever since the gala. And Blue had been acting strangely, too.

The resemblance between them was difficult to ignore once Tech had noticed it. Not merely in their mannerisms, though there had been enough of those to raise suspicion, but in the smaller details that most people would have overlooked. The slight tilt of the head when listening. The particular way they shifted their weight from one foot to the other. The almost imperceptible pause before responding to something unexpected, as though their minds had briefly taken a detour before finding their way back to the conversation.

Individually, these similarities meant very little. People could share mannerisms without being acquainted, and Tech had no intention of building an entire theory around a handful of coincidental observations.

Still.

Could they be related?

Cousins, perhaps. That would account for certain physical similarities, although it did little to explain the behavioral ones. Tech vaguely recalled Rev mentioning his family on several occasions, usually in the middle of an unrelated conversation that had somehow become a lengthy anecdote. There had been stories about his parents, childhood mishaps, and various relatives whose names Tech had long since forgotten. Yet he couldn't recall Rev ever mentioning a cousin who lived nearby, let alone one who bore such an uncanny resemblance to Blue.

Of course, the absence of information was not proof of anything. Rev had a remarkable talent for talking for ten consecutive minutes without communicating a single relevant fact. It was entirely possible that he had mentioned Blue's existence before and Tech had simply failed to recognize the significance.

No. That was unlikely.

If Rev had a relative who looked and behaved so much like the mysterious woman from the gala, Tech would have remembered.

Unless they weren't related at all.

Tech's fingers stopped moving over the keyboard.

What if Rev and Blue had been strangers before the gala? What if they'd met that evening, struck up a conversation, and exchanged contact information afterward? It would explain the sudden change in Rev's behavior. The secretive messages, the unexplained departures, the duffel bag he seemed so determined to keep out of everyone else's hands. Perhaps Rev had simply met someone he wanted to see again and, for reasons known only to himself, decided to keep the matter private.

That possibility was considerably more plausible than the cousin theory. It was also considerably more irritating. Tech frowned at the monitor. There was no reason for it to be irritating. Rev was perfectly entitled to have a private social life. He could meet whomever he pleased, exchange messages with whomever he pleased, and disappear for several hours with a suspiciously heavy bag without seeking Tech's permission.

Tech had never suggested otherwise. He was simply trying to understand the sequence of events. That was all.

He returned to the messages he'd seen Rev receive the previous afternoon, mentally reconstructing the scene. Rev had been talking quite freely until his communicator buzzed. The moment he'd read the message, something had changed. His posture had tightened, his expression had become difficult to read, and he'd turned the screen away before Tech could catch even a glimpse of the sender's name.

When asked who it was, Rev had answered, No one. An answer so transparently dishonest that it had almost been insulting. Tech leaned back in his chair. If the message had come from Blue, the behavior made a certain amount of sense. Perhaps they'd been arranging another meeting. Perhaps Blue had asked Rev for help with something. Perhaps the duffel bag contained whatever he intended to bring along.

Clothing, maybe.

The thought lingered longer than it should have. Tech remembered Blue's outfit from the gala. The elegant dark blue fabric, the careful feather-hair styling, the way she had carried herself with a confidence that seemed effortless despite the attention she attracted. He recalled how she'd tilted her head when listening to him, how she'd smiled at something he'd said, and how she'd managed to leave him with more questions than answers despite their relatively brief conversation.

If Rev was meeting her again, then perhaps Tech would finally have an opportunity to learn more about her. That was a perfectly reasonable explanation for his interest. He was curious about Blue. She was an unusual person, and unusual people tended to interest him. Her apparent resemblance to Rev only made the situation more intriguing. If the two were acquainted, then observing them together might help him determine whether the similarities were coincidental or indicative of some deeper connection.

It was a sound investigative approach. There was absolutely no need to consider why the thought of Rev spending time with Blue bothered him enough to keep returning to it. Tech turned back to his computer and opened the security footage again, watching Rev leave the building with his duffel bag. The roadrunner glanced over his shoulder, his expression brightening into that small, private smile.

Tech paused the recording.

Perhaps Rev was meeting someone he'd grown fond of. Someone who made him smile like that. His eyes narrowed.

No. That was speculation, and speculation was useless without supporting evidence. He had no idea what Rev was planning, who he was meeting, or why he had chosen to keep the matter secret. Until he had more information, every explanation remained equally unconfirmed.

He closed the footage.

The next step was obvious. Establish Rev's destination, identify any unusual stops along the route, and determine whether Blue had been seen in the same vicinity. If the two were meeting, the available evidence would eventually reveal it.

And if they weren't?

Then Tech would have eliminated one possibility and moved on to the next. Simple and logical. Entirely unrelated to the fact that, somewhere along the way, his investigation had stopped being merely about Blue.

Tech closed the footage and opened a new window, pulling up the public transit routes and traffic cameras surrounding headquarters. If Rev had traveled by road, there were several possible destinations within a reasonable distance. If he'd taken public transportation, the search would be more complicated, but hardly impossible.

He began narrowing down the possibilities.

A few hours later, his communicator buzzed.

A message from Lexi appeared on the screen.

Duck says he's figured out where Rev went.

Tech stared at it. Another message followed almost immediately.

"He wants you to know he expects a formal apology when he's proven right."

Tech closed his eyes. Of course he did. He typed back a brief response.

"Tell him that if he has useful information, he may provide it. If he does not, he may remain silent or I'm going to skin him alive and devour him as a supper."

Lexi's reply arrived seconds later.

"You know he's going to interpret that as an invitation to help, right?"

A second message appeared before Tech could respond.

"Also, while we're discussing terrible decisions, you might want to be a little less obvious about liking Rev."

Tech went very still.

He read the message again, his expression gradually hardening as though the additional scrutiny might somehow make the words less ridiculous.

"I do not like Rev", he typed but later deleted it.

The denial was unnecessary. Lexi was clearly attempting to provoke a reaction, and responding would only encourage her. Besides, there was nothing to deny. His interest in Rev's whereabouts was entirely practical. Rev was behaving suspiciously, carrying an unexplained bag, and withholding information from his teammates. Any competent investigator would want answers.

His communicator buzzed again.

"For the record, staring at security footage of him smiling isn't exactly helping your case. You've been acting pretty odd since the gala."

Tech's fingers hovered over the screen.

How could she possibly know that?

He glanced at the paused footage on his monitor, where Rev's private little smile remained frozen in the corner of the screen. Then he looked back at the communicator.

"I am investigating suspicious behavior", he typed.

Lexi replied almost immediately.

"Sure you are. Wouldn't want you getting distracted by those pretty eyes."

Tech's jaw tightened.

He could explain the logical flaws in her argument. He could point out that observing a subject's facial expressions was a perfectly legitimate investigative technique, and that Lexi's interpretation of his behavior was based on absolutely no reliable evidence. He could compose a thorough, devastatingly rational response that would make it abundantly clear how little patience he had for this nonsense.

Instead, he set the communicator down without answering.

There was no point arguing with someone who had apparently decided to substitute romantic speculation for reason.

Tech turned back to his computer and resumed tracing Rev's movements through the city camera network.

He was investigating the bag.

He was investigating Rev's suspicious behavior.

And he most certainly was not thinking about Rev's eyes.

The fact that he had to remind himself of that last point was entirely irrelevant.

The trail, as it turned out, had been considerably less mysterious than Tech had anticipated. It had also been considerably more tedious.

For the next several hours, Tech worked his way through the city's camera network, cross-referencing timestamps, checking street footage, and eliminating every lead that failed to produce anything remotely useful. Each time he thought he had found a promising clue, it led to another dead end. Rev had apparently mastered the art of being suspicious without doing anything particularly suspicious at all.

Duck, meanwhile, had contributed nothing of value. He sent a series of increasingly confident messages about a theory involving stolen jewels, an underground gambling ring, and, inexplicably, Slam's alleged involvement in international smuggling.

Lexi eventually informed Tech that Duck's latest breakthrough was discovering that the duffel bag was, in fact, a duffel bag.

Tech had not dignified that with a response.

By evening, however, he had found Rev. Or, more accurately, Rev had found him.

The message arrived just as Tech was preparing to widen his search to the neighboring districts. It contained no explanation, no useful information, and no indication of where Rev had been all day.

It simply read: "Hey, Tech! You busy tonight?"

Tech stared at it. Then another message appeared.

"Because I have something to show you."

A third followed.

"And before you ask, no, it's not dangerous! Probably!"

Tech leaned back in his chair.

There were at least seven different responses he could have sent, each one more appropriate than the last. He could demand Rev's location. He could ask what the contents of the duffel bag had to do with his unexplained absence. He could point out that the word *probably* was hardly reassuring when coming from a person whose definition of a safe activity included running through traffic for fun.

Instead, he typed, "Where are you? You've been gone for like a whole day."

Rev sent him an address. Tech recognized it almost immediately. The building where the interplanetary charity gala had been held. For several seconds, he stared at the screen. Then he stood, grabbed his jacket, and left the laboratory.

He told himself it was because the mystery had gone unresolved long enough. That he was entitled to answers after spending an unreasonable portion of his day tracking down a teammate who had apparently decided to disappear without explanation. That if Rev had finally uncovered something relevant to the Blue investigation, Tech would be remiss not to examine it himself.

He did not consider the possibility that he had accepted the invitation rather quickly.

He did not consider it at all.

(Author's Note: The song starts around this part)

The building was quieter than Tech remembered.

The gala had transformed it into a glittering spectacle of music, expensive decorations, and people who seemed to regard every conversation as an opportunity to discuss their own importance. Now the main hall was mostly empty, its chandeliers dimmed, its polished floors reflecting the pale light from the windows. A few workers were dismantling the last of the decorations, and somewhere in the distance, someone was rolling a cart across the marble.

Tech made his way toward the balcony.

He had not expected to feel anything upon seeing it again.

It was, after all, merely a balcony. A stretch of stone overlooking the city, with a metal railing and enough room for several people to stand comfortably without having to negotiate for elbow space. Nothing particularly remarkable about it.

And yet he remembered the exact spot where Blue had stood.

He remembered the way she had tilted her head when he spoke, the way she had laughed at his attempts to explain something that had probably not required explaining, and the way she had taken his hand as though asking him to dance were the most natural thing in the world.

He remembered how easily he had followed.

Tech stopped at the open doorway.

Rev was standing near the railing, facing the city.

The duffel bag rested on a bench beside him, its zipper open. A collection of folded clothes spilled from the top, along with a pair of shoes, several small containers, and what appeared to be an alarming quantity of cosmetic products. Beside it sat a portable speaker.

Rev himself was no longer dressed as Blue.

He wore his usual clothes, though his feathers had been carefully smoothed and his crest arranged with a degree of attention that Tech suspected had taken considerably longer than Rev would ever admit. He was leaning forward on his elbows, watching the traffic below. When the door opened, he turned so quickly that he nearly knocked his communicator off the railing.

"Tech!"

His grin appeared at once, bright and unmistakable. Then, as though he suddenly remembered that he had invited Tech here under circumstances he had yet to explain, it faltered into something a little more tentative.

"Hey," Rev said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You came."

"You sent me an address and claimed you had something to show me. Naturally, I assumed there was a reasonable explanation for your disappearance."

"Oh, yeah. About that."

Rev glanced at the bag.

Then he glanced at Tech.

Then, with a rather unconvincing attempt at nonchalance, he kicked the bag a few inches farther beneath the bench.

Tech looked at it.

Rev looked at Tech looking at it.

"Okay, so, funny story."

"I am listening."

"Great. Because it's a really good story. Probably. I mean, the ending's good. The middle's a little embarrassing, but that's kind of the point of a middle, right? Stuff happens, everone make mistakes, sometimes you buy the wrong shade of lipbalms—"

"Rev."

"Right. Sorry."

Rev took a breath. For once, he appeared to be trying to organize his thoughts before speaking. Tech found this more alarming than the bag.

"I wanted to bring Blue back," Rev admitted.

Tech's expression did not change, but something in his chest settled. He should have felt vindicated. Instead, he found himself studying Rev's face, searching for some indication of whether the confession was about to become another joke at his expense.

Rev wasn't laughing.

He was nervous. Tech could see it in the way his fingers kept worrying at the edge of his sleeve, in the way his eyes wandered toward the city before returning to Tech's face. He looked as though he had prepared an entire speech and forgotten every word of it the moment Tech arrived.

Tech folded his arms. "Explain."

"Right. Okay." Rev straightened, then immediately slouched again. "So, remember the gala?"

"Unfortunately."

"And Blue?"

Tech's eyes narrowed.

"Yes."

"Well..." Rev glanced at the bag, then back at him. "Blue was me."

Silence.

Somewhere behind them, a worker called out to a colleague. A door shut in the main hall, the sound echoing faintly through the otherwise empty building.

Tech did not move.

Rev waited.

Then, apparently unable to tolerate the silence any longer, he hurriedly continued.

"I know. I know how it sounds. And before you say anything, yes, I know I should've told you sooner. I was going to! Like, a bunch of times. I just kept thinking about how to explain it, and then I'd see you, and you'd start talking about something in the lab, and I'd think, 'Oh, I'll tell him after this,' and then something else would happen, and—"

"Rev."

"Sorry."

Tech looked at the bag.

Then at Rev.

Then back at the bag.

"The woman I danced with at the gala was you."

"Yep."

"The person I spent hours attempting to identify through facial-recognition software was you."

"Also yep."

"The person whose appearance I attempted to cross-reference with the guest list was you."

Rev winced. "Okay, when you list it like that, it sounds a little intense."

"It was intense." Tech pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah. I figured."

He had spent days pursuing an answer that had been standing in front of him the entire time. Worse, he had been so thoroughly distracted by the mystery that he had failed to recognize several obvious signs. Rev's unusual nervousness, the secretive messages, the sudden disappearances, the careful attention he'd paid to his appearance. The evidence had been there. He had simply failed to assemble it correctly.

"You deliberately concealed your identity." Tech said.

Rev's expression fell. "Yeah."

"And you allowed me to spend a considerable amount of time investigating you." Tech continued.

Rev's shoulders crept upward. "That one was especially bad, wasn't it?"

"Catastrophically so." Tech confirmed.

"Right," Rev murmured.

"And did you lie when I asked whether someone had been messaging you."

"No! That was entirely different and unrelated."

For once, Rev did not try to turn the criticism into a joke. He looked down at his hands, his usual easy confidence giving way to an uncomfortable quiet.

Tech found that more disarming than any of his excuses could have been. "Why?" he asked. "Why did you do any of this?"

Rev glanced up, he was quiet for a moment. He looked toward the railing, where the last of the evening light had begun to fade behind the buildings. The city stretched out below them, full of headlights and illuminated windows. Somewhere on the street, music drifted through the air, faint enough to be mistaken for the ordinary noise of the evening.

"I.. wanted to try something different," Rev said at last. "I've thought about doing it for a while. Putting together an outfit, trying a different look, seeing what it was like to be someone people didn't already have a whole list of expectations about."

He gave a small, self-conscious smile. "And I liked it. I liked putting everything together. The clothes, the wig, figuring out how to walk in those shoes without falling flat on my face. Which I almost did, twice."

Tech glanced at the shoes in the bag. "I find that unsurprising."

"Hey, I made it through the gala without falling over. That's a win."

"An exceedingly modest one."

"Still counts." Rev's smile lingered for a moment before fading again. "But then I danced with you."

The words came out more quietly. Tech looked at him. Rev had stopped fidgeting with his sleeve. His hands rested loosely in front of him, and there was something almost apprehensive in the way he held himself, as though he had finally reached the part of the conversation he had been dreading.

"That wasn't something I planned," he continued. "I mean, I didn't go to the gala expecting to dance with you. I figured you'd probably be too busy criticizing the decorations or explaining why the lighting system was inefficient."

"The lighting system was inefficient."

"I know! You told me about it for fifteen minutes the next day."

"It was a serious design flaw."

"And I listened to the entire thing."

"You interrupted me six times."

"Because you were repeating yourself."

Tech opened his mouth, then closed it again. Rev grinned faintly. "See? This is why I didn't know how to tell you. We do this all the time. We argue, we make fun of each other, and everything goes back to normal. But that night..." He paused, searching for the right words. "That night felt different."

He looked down at the blue fabric inside the bag.

"I liked talking to you when you didn't know it was me. You actually paid attention to me. You listened. You looked at me like you actually wanted to be there."

Tech's expression shifted. "I always listen to you."

"I know."

"I frequently have no choice."

Rev laughed softly. "Yeah, well. I know that, too." He rubbed the back of his neck. "But it was nice to feel like I had your attention without having to do something ridiculous to get it. And I liked that you didn't know what to expect from me. I got to surprise you a little."

"You certainly accomplished that."

"Right. And then I started worrying that if you found out, everything would change."

Tech remained silent.

Rev drew a breath. "I thought you'd be annoyed. Or embarrassed. Or that you'd think I'd been making fun of you. And I didn't want that. I wasn't laughing at you, Tech. I promise."

His voice grew more earnest. "I was having fun. I was having a really good time. And then I realized I cared what you thought about Blue, and that made everything a lot more complicated than it needed to be." He let out a nervous laugh. "Which, honestly, is kind of impressive for me."

Tech did not smile. Rev looked down again. "I should've told you sooner. I know that. I just kept putting it off because I didn't want to ruin something that had been important to me." He paused, then forced himself to look Tech in the eyes. "And I didn't want you to think that any of it was fake."

The words hung between them. Tech had prepared himself for several possible explanations. He had expected some elaborate scheme, perhaps a prank that had gone too far, or an excuse involving a wager, a dare, or one of Rev's inexplicable attempts to entertain himself.

He had not expected this. Rev wasn't trying to make a joke of the situation. He wasn't even attempting to talk his way out of the trouble he'd caused. He had invited Tech here, brought the clothes that had started the entire mystery, and chosen to explain himself face-to-face.

For someone who so often spoke before thinking, Rev had clearly spent a great deal of time thinking about this. Tech looked at the duffel bag again. "You could have told me."

"I know."

"You could have sent a message."

"I know."

"You could have simply said, 'Tech, I was Blue at the gala, and I apologize for allowing you to waste hours of your life investigating me.' Not these shenanigans."

Rev blinked. "Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds really easy."

"It would have been."

"Yeah, well, I didn't think of that exact wording, and I feel really bad."

"Clearly."

Rev's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry." This time, he did not follow the apology with a joke. Tech looked at him for a long moment.

He was still annoyed. That much was undeniable. He had wasted hours on an investigation that could have been resolved with a single honest conversation. Rev had lied to him, albeit out of nervousness rather than malice, and Tech was not inclined to pretend that it had been acceptable.

But beneath the irritation was something else.

Relief, perhaps.

The mystery was solved. The roadrunner he had spent days trying to identify was someone he already knew, someone whose laugh he recognized without knowing why, someone who had been bringing him coffee and finding excuses to linger in his laboratory.

Someone who had apparently been just as nervous about this conversation as Tech was now about having it.

"You have an extraordinary talent for making simple situations unnecessarily complicated," Tech said.

Rev nodded. "Yeah."

"And your timing is abysmal. And you could have saved me a considerable amount of time by telling me the truth." Tech exhaled slowly. "But you chose to tell me now."

Rev looked up. "Yeah."

"Why?"

Rev hesitated. Then he gave Tech a small, almost helpless smile. "Because I didn't want to keep hiding it from you. I felt really sick for making you enchanted with someone who isn't real." He glanced toward the clothes in the bag.

"And because I wanted to dance with you again."

Tech's expression changed before he could stop it.

Rev noticed. Of course he did. His smile grew a fraction, but he did not immediately seize the opportunity to tease Tech about it. Instead, he waited, looking almost as though he was afraid that one wrong word might make the moment disappear.

Tech found himself appreciating the restraint. It was, after all, a rare and potentially historic occurrence.

"I see," he said.

Rev nodded. "Yeah."

Another silence settled between them, but this one was different. The worst of the confession had passed. Rev's shoulders had relaxed slightly, and he no longer looked as though he were bracing himself for an impact.

Tech glanced toward the city.

"You chose an interesting location."

Rev followed his gaze.

"Yeah. I thought it made sense to come back here."

"Because of the gala."

"Because of the gala," Rev agreed.

He looked around the balcony, his expression turning thoughtful.

"I remembered how much I liked being here that night. And I figured if I was going to tell you, I should probably do it somewhere that mattered to me."

He gave a small shrug.

"Seemed better than doing it in the lab, anyway. I didn't want to confess my identity while you were elbow-deep in a machine."

"You have done so on several occasions."

"Yeah, but those were usually accidents."

"That is not reassuring."

Rev laughed. Tech watched him for a moment, noticing the way the tension had finally begun to leave his face. He looked more like himself now. Bright-eyed, animated, unable to remain still for long even when he was trying to be serious and yet there was something different about him tonight.

He had taken a risk. Rev, who could turn almost any uncomfortable situation into a joke, had chosen to stand in front of Tech and admit that something mattered to him. He had done so without knowing what Tech would say, whether he would be forgiven, or whether the next time they saw each other in the laboratory would be unbearably awkward.

Tech wasn't certain what to do with that realization. He was even less certain why it made him want to be gentler with Rev than he had been a few minutes ago.

"I'm still annoyed," Tech said finally.

Rev's smile faded a little. "Yeah. I figured."

"And I reserve the right to remain annoyed for a reasonable period," Tech added.

"That's fair," Rev conceded.

"However, I am not particularly interested in continuing an investigation that has now become entirely redundant," Tech continued.

Rev blinked. "Wait. Really?"

"Your identity has been established. There is no further mystery to solve," Tech explained.

"Oh," Rev murmured.

Rev looked down at the bag. Then back at Tech.

"Oh!" Rev exclaimed, his expression brightening.

The second exclamation was accompanied by a smile so bright that Tech found himself looking away before it could do anything inconvenient to his composure. Rev laughed, the sound spilling out of him with such obvious relief that Tech wondered how long he had been holding it back.

"Okay. Good. That's good. I can work with annoyed. You being annoyed is manageable," Rev said, visibly relaxing.

"Do not make me regret this," Tech warned.

"I won't! I've thought a million kinds of worst-case scenarios where things wouldn't be the same again, we wouldn't be best buds again, and—" Rev began, speaking faster as the thoughts tumbled out.

"You have said that several times tonight," Tech interrupted.

"And I meant it every time," Rev replied with a grin.

"That is not reassuring," Tech remarked.

For a moment, the tension between them eased completely. Rev bent to zip up the duffel bag, carefully tucking the blue outfit away so that the satin would not wrinkle. Tech watched him fold the fabric with unexpected care.

It occurred to him that the clothes must have taken considerable effort to assemble. The dress, the accessories, the shoes, the careful attention to the smallest details. Rev had clearly put a great deal of thought into becoming Blue.

And he had brought all of it back here to show Tech. Not to prove a point. Not to win an argument. Not to entertain himself at Tech's expense.

To explain.

Tech looked away before Rev could catch him staring. Across the street, the sound of music drifted up from the pavement below. Tech had noticed the small crowd gathering outside a nearby café earlier, but he had paid it little attention. Now the musicians seemed to have settled into a proper performance. A guitarist adjusted his position beneath the awning while the keyboard player tested a few notes.

Their singer leaned toward the microphone, exchanged a few words with someone near the front, and then began a new song. The opening melody floated across the street and rose toward the balcony.

Trails of smoke trapped in a two.. by two.
Wasted the night.. feels right when I'm with you.

Rev stopped zipping the bag. His head lifted. For a moment, he simply listened. Then his eyes widened, and a delighted grin spread across his face.

"No way!!"

Tech glanced at him.

"What?"

It's the shimmer in your eyes..
And the way.. you let down your disguise.

Rev turned toward the railing, leaning forward to see the musicians below. "Oh, I love this song!"

Tech followed his gaze.

The street band had attracted a modest crowd. People stood in loose clusters around the café entrance, some holding drinks and others swaying gently to the music. The warm light from the shop windows spilled across the pavement, and strings of small bulbs stretched overhead between the buildings.

The singer's voice rose above the instruments.

I feel.. like- I've known.. you for ages..

Rev's expression had changed completely. The nervousness that had occupied him throughout the conversation gave way to a familiar, unrestrained enthusiasm. His fingers tapped against the railing in time with the melody, and he seemed unable to keep the smile off his face.

"I haven't heard this in ages," he said. "Oh, man. I love this song."

Tech watched him.

"You are familiar with it?"

"Well, yeah! It was very popular, and I used to hear it all the time." Rev turned back toward him, eyes bright. "It's called 'Anything You Want.' This band has me by the throat, and I will never shut up about this band."

Tech had no particular attachment to the song. He recognized the melody only vaguely, and he would not have been able to name it without Rev's help. But he recognized the expression on Rev's face.

I feel.. like with you, I'm going places..
Ah-ah-aah, ah-ah-ahh..

Rev was singing along to the ah-ah-ah refrain, his voice mingling with the others scattered across the room. A few people nearby caught on and joined in, their voices rising with the music until the refrain swelled into a chorus that filled the space between them. Rev grinned, swaying lightly to the rhythm, his usual restless energy softened by something almost unguarded.

Tech found himself watching him instead of the crowd. There was something about the way Rev sang those wordless notes, as though he didn't need the lyrics to explain what he was feeling. As though the melody itself was enough to say whatever he couldn't quite put into words.

It was the same sort of unguarded delight he'd seen at the gala when Blue had laughed at something Tech said. The same warmth that had made Tech forget, for a little while, that he was supposed to be uncomfortable in a crowded room full of strangers.

The same song.. on repeat.
"You can call me anything you want."
It's fine by me

The vocal singer continued to the chorus, and Rev's smile softened. Tech found himself wondering what Rev was remembering. Perhaps the gala. Perhaps the dance. Perhaps the strange little pocket of time in which they had been able to enjoy each other's company without the familiar rhythm of their everyday lives getting in the way.

Rev turned toward Tech. For one brief moment, his expression was almost shy. The song carried him back to that night, and Tech could see the memory passing across his face. The ballroom, the lights, the music. The moment Blue had offered him a hand and waited for him to decide whether he would take it.

Rev glanced down at their hands, though they were not touching now. Then he looked up again.

"Hey, Tech?"

Tech met his eyes. "What?"

Rev held out his hand. It was the same gesture he'd made at the gala. An open palm, an invitation, a small question that didn't demand an answer. Only this time, there was no elaborate outfit, no borrowed name, no uncertainty about the person standing before him.

It was Rev.

Just Rev.

"One more dance? I did promise you, we'd do it again." he asked.

Tech looked at his hand. "You have an astonishing amount of confidence for someone who has spent the evening apologizing."

Rev grinned. "Well, I'm trying to end on a high note."

"Your standards for success are questionable."

"Yeah, but you like me anyway."

Number two out of three
He says that it's his favourite and I can't disagree

The words slipped out with the same easy confidence Rev used for nearly everything. Then he seemed to realize what he'd said, and his grin faltered. Tech raised an eyebrow, he looked at the hand still extended toward him. He could refuse. There was nothing obligating him to dance, and the circumstances were hardly ideal. The balcony was not particularly spacious, the floor was uneven in places, and Rev had yet to demonstrate any reliable sense of rhythm.

Tech remembered the gala. The music, the movement, the way Blue had seemed entirely at ease with him. He remembered how quickly the awkwardness had disappeared once he'd accepted the offered hand, and how much time he'd spent afterward wondering why the evening had stayed with him.

But the song was playing, and Rev cleared his throat. "I mean—like me as a teammate. Obviously. As a friend. A very cool, very handsome, extremely talented friend who—"

"Rev."

"Right.. Sorry.. Forget about it.. I.." Rev slowly pulled back his hand. He had his answer now.

Tech rushed his hand to grab Rev's hand as soon as he notice Rev falling back. "Do not make me reconsider."

Rev's entire face lit up. "Wouldn't dream of it!!"

We talk about everything..
The important.. and the mundane..

Rev gently drew him away from the bench and toward the open space beside the railing. There wasn't much room, but he seemed determined to make the most of it. He placed one hand at Tech's shoulder, leaving the other clasped around his, and began to move with the music. Tech followed, stiff at first.

He had never been particularly comfortable with dancing. It required a degree of physical coordination that he considered unnecessary outside specific social circumstances, and he had no intention of pretending otherwise. Rev, however, seemed perfectly content with the arrangement. He guided them through a small turn, nearly bumped into the railing, and had to adjust his footing when Tech stopped him from stepping on his own feet.

"You're doing that on purpose," Tech muttered.

"I'm not! I swear. My feet are just really excited."

"Your feet need to learn some self-control."

"They get it from me."

"That explains a great deal."

Rev laughed. The sound was familiar, but Tech heard it differently now. He no longer had to wonder why Blue's laughter had seemed so recognizable, or why certain gestures had caught his attention without his understanding why. It had been Rev all along. Of course it had.

They found their rhythm eventually. The steps became smaller, the movements less deliberate. Rev's hand settled more comfortably against Tech's shoulder, and Tech stopped concentrating quite so hard on where his feet were going. For a little while, neither of them spoke.

You know, I think you know.. everything.
But the night's still young and there's still so much to gain.

The music drifted up from the street, warm and unhurried. Below them, strangers swayed beneath the strings of lights, some dancing with practiced ease and others simply enjoying themselves. The singer's voice rose and fell between the buildings, accompanied by the steady strumming of a guitar, the gentle notes of a piano, and the violin's lilting melody weaving through the arrangement. Around them, the crowd sang along, their voices rising in a loose, joyful chorus that filled the narrow street.

I feel.. like I've known you for ages..
I feel.. like with you, I'm going places..

"You know," Rev said, more quietly now, "I really did want you to ask me to dance again."

Tech's expression changed.

"Then why did you wait for me to come looking for you?"

Rev's smile turned sheepish.

"Because I was scared you'd be mad."

"I am mad."

"Yeah, but you're still here."

Tech had no answer to that.

Rev looked at their hands, his thumb brushing lightly against Tech's knuckles again.

"I guess I just wanted another chance to do it right," he admitted. "Without hiding behind anything. Just me asking you, and you knowing it's me."

Tech felt something shift in his chest.

He thought about all the time he'd spent trying to identify Blue, all the theories he'd constructed, all the little details he'd examined in the hope that they would lead him to an answer. He'd treated the whole affair as a puzzle, something to be solved through observation and logic.

But Rev had come to him himself. He had chosen to be seen and now, with the music playing and Rev's hand resting in his, Tech found that the answer he'd been searching for was far simpler than he'd expected.

Rev seemed content to let the silence remain. Tech found that he was, too. 

Eventually, Rev spoke. "So," he said, glancing up at Tech, "on a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Whether you intend to ask me that question every ten seconds."

Rev grinned. "Okay, so we're at least down to a Five."

"I did not say that."

"Seven?"

"Rev." Tech gave him a flat look.

"Eight?" Rev laughed again. "Okay, okay. I'll stop."

He was quiet for a moment, then his expression softened. "I'm really glad you came here."

Tech met his eyes. "Well, you invited me."

"Yeah, I know. But you could've said no to dance with me."

"I could have."

"But you didn't."

"No."

Rev looked down at their joined hands. His thumb brushed lightly against Tech's knuckles, an absent gesture that seemed to surprise him as much as it did Tech. "I wasn't sure you would," he admitted.

Tech frowned slightly. "Why?"

Rev shrugged, though the movement was less carefree than usual. "Because I lied to you. Because I made you waste all that time trying to figure out who Blue was. Because I knew you'd be annoyed, and I didn't know if you'd want to see me after I told you. I was nervous as fuck when I finally told you about it, you put a straight face."

He paused. "I was really scared you'd think the whole thing was stupid. After all that news bombing and, not to mention, I asked you to dance again regarding the gala's promise, which technically isn't really the real Rev's promise, and you were still mad about it.."

Tech considered that. "I do think the situation was unnecessarily complicated."

Rev grimaced. "Right."

"But I do not think it was stupid."

Rev looked up. 

Tech continued before he could lose his nerve. "You wanted to try something different. You enjoyed yourself. You danced with someone you wanted to dance with, so did I. None of those things are particularly unreasonable."

Rev stared at him. "Wow."

"What?"

"Nothing. I just wasn't expecting that answer."

"Would you prefer a less reasonable one?"

"No!" Rev's grin returned. "No, that was good. That was really good."

Tech looked away, faintly irritated with himself for feeling pleased by Rev's reaction.

The same song on repeat
"You can call me anything you want"

They continued dancing.

Rev occasionally hummed along with the melody, and Tech corrected him once when he got the rhythm wrong, prompting an indignant protest that he was a perfectly competent dancer. Tech pointed out that competence was generally demonstrated through results rather than enthusiasm, and Rev informed him that this was a terrible attitude to have toward the arts, as everyone is free to express and interpret it. The argument lasted approximately thirty seconds before Rev forgot what they were arguing about and began smiling at him again.

Tech suspected that was how most conversations with Rev ended. He also suspected he had grown rather accustomed to it. Tech looked down at him. Rev's laughter faded, but his smile remained. For a moment, they simply watched each other. The noise from the street seemed to soften around them, leaving the music and the quiet space between their faces.

It's fine by me
Number two out of three

Their steps remained awkward, and the balcony was still far too small for anything resembling a proper dance floor. Rev occasionally hummed along with the melody, and Tech corrected him when he got the rhythm wrong, prompting another indignant protest that he was being unfairly judged.

But Tech didn't let go.

He says that- it's his favourite and I can't.. disagree..

As the song continued, Rev moved a little closer, resting his forehead briefly against Tech's shoulder. It was an uncharacteristically quiet gesture, so unlike his usual exuberance that Tech almost asked if something was wrong. Then Rev sighed contentedly. "Wish we could stay here a little longer," he murmured.

Tech looked over the railing at the street below. The lights glowed against the evening sky, the musicians played on, and the city seemed to have settled into a comfortable rhythm of its own.

"I suppose we can stay for a little while," he said.

Rev lifted his head and looked at Tech with a bright smile. "Really?"

"Anything you want.. Unless you have somewhere else to be."

"Nope."

"Then stop asking unnecessary questions."

Rev grinned and settled back into the dance.

For once, he obeyed.

Tech let himself relax, allowing Rev to guide them through another slow turn. He was still annoyed about the lies, and he suspected he would be reminding Rev of them for some time. There would be explanations to finish, questions to answer, and probably a great deal of teasing to endure once Lexi discovered what had happened.

Duck would undoubtedly demand to know how the investigation had concluded, then claim that he had been instrumental in solving it. Lexi would probably see through the entire situation within seconds and make several observations that Tech would prefer not to hear.

None of that needed to be dealt with tonight.

The same song on repeat
You can call me "anything you want"

Tonight, Rev had reached out to him, told him the truth, and tonight, when the song that had brought them together the first time played again beneath the evening sky, Tech had taken his hand. This time, there was no mystery left between them. Only the music, the quiet balcony, and Rev's bright, unmistakable smile as they danced together.

And when the song finally began to fade, Rev did not immediately let go.

Neither did Tech.

It's fine by me.