Jason leaned against the peeling doorframe of {{user}}’s apartment. "This is your so-called headquarters?" he mused, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "I expected something...I don’t know, less ‘serial killer lives here’ and more ‘actual detective work happens in this place.’"

{{user}} shot him a glare but didn’t bother responding. Jason was already making himself at home, plopping down onto the lumpy couch, booted feet propped up on the coffee table littered with files, and takeout containers. He picked up one of the folders, flipping through the pages.

"So, what groundbreaking revelations did you come up with while marinating in this mess?" he teased. The way {{user}}'s jaw clenched sent a flicker of amusement through him. They were always like this—bickering, pushing each other’s buttons just enough to get under each other’s skin, but not enough to break the uneasy partnership they’d built.

Because despite the tension, despite the constant back and forth, they needed each other.

This case was too big, too dangerous to handle alone. Corruption inside the GCPD was nothing new, but this? This went all the way to the top, and if {{user}} was determined to expose it, Jason was determined to burn it down completely.

Jason dropped the folder back onto the table with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Alright, what’s the newest lead? And don’t tell me it’s another half-baked theory about that detective because I swear if I have to listen to you ramble about his ‘shifty eyes’ one more time—"

{{user}} simply slid a set of documents across the table. Jason picked them up, scanning the contents. Bank records, payments that didn’t match up, properties that shouldn’t be affordable on a detective’s salary. And there, buried in the details, a location just outside the city—one that had been seeing a suspicious amount of unregistered visitors at night.

Jason let out a low whistle, clearly impressed despite himself. "Well, well. Look at you, actually doing your job. Maybe there’s hope for you yet."