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Stan passed by Tad on his way to getting booked. Not a good sign. It appeared the government guys had escorted him here, but it fortunately didn’t seem as if he was under arrest. Tad was sitting at a table in an interrogation room, Agent Powers towering over him and pointing to files on the desk.
“Whaddaya doin’ with my secretary?” Stan protested, stopping to glare into the window.
“Standard questioning,” Agent Trigger answered, walking out of the shadows. “You can talk to him when we’re done.”
“Yeesh, do ya practise your entrances or somethin’?” The conman rolled his eyes.
“Wh- No! It was a completely natural entrance!” Trigger defended.
“ Sure, pal.”
“J-just get into your own interrogation!” Stan was shoved into another room, away from Tad.
–
“How long have you known Stanford Pines?” The wrinkly old pig asked. His stupid moustache curled under his lip like an extremely uncomfortable caterpillar. Tad knew exactly what to do in this situation: Play dumb.
He was sitting at a table, a paper cup of coffee sitting untouched next to him. Someone trying to play ‘good cop’ had brought it over, but Tad refused to buy into their hospitality. Fuck these government agents and their stupid cliches. But no matter how much he wanted to scratch and bite, he had to play along. Tad Strange is his name, and being normal is his game.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Officer.” He put on his best ‘I’m a victim of circumstance’ voice. “I’m just the secretary. I only handle the paperwork.” He ran a hand to smooth over his glamour’s dark hair.
“And were you aware of the thirty-year-long history of tax fraud being committed?” Agent Powers sneered at him.
Tad suppressed an eyeroll. Of course he knew about it, he’d helped commit about half of it! But that’s exactly what his cover was for…
“I- what? No! I’m contracted. Mr. Pines files the paperwork to me, and I just process it. It’s possible he made some calculation errors…”
The sentient lemon wasn’t buying it. “You’re an employee of the Mystery Shack and have been for fifteen years. Wouldn’t you say you look a little young for forty-five, Mr. Strange?” The decrepit sourpuss tossed an ID on the table. It was Tad’s. Fake, of course, but he wasn’t going to tell the cops that.
“What can I say?” Tad shrugged nonchalantly. “I have good jeans.”
He was never sure what quality slacks had to do with looking young, but that’s what people said, right? “Hang on a second, did you search my apartment?! I keep private information, that’s a breach of security to my clients!”
“We’re the government, Mr. Strange. We’re above your staffing’s NDAs.”
“This is a breach of privacy. I have rights, and so does Ma– Mr. Pines!” He tried to cover his slip by pounding a fist on the table angrily. “And the rest of my clients, for that matter!”
“Unfortunately, anything is fair game during investigation. Now, are you going to cooperate or am I going to have to charge you with obstruction of justice?”
–
It was two hours before Stan and Tad were allowed to talk. Stan had managed to use that silver tongue of his to try and ask to put a few affairs in order. They were being monitored, so they had to speak in code.
It wasn’t the first time Tad had seen him in handcuffs, but this was by far the most high-stakes instance.
“What did they wanna know?” An eager tone, bordering on desperate. What did you tell them?
“Everything, I guess. They wanted me to elaborate on our… history.” Tad’s eyes flickered with rebellion. I didn’t tell ‘em nothin’.
“I’m so sorry about this, Tad. Maybe you should take that vacation you been talkin’ about.” Sincerity, but a command for distance. Stick to the plan. Stay away from this.
“But what about your business, Mr. Pines? Do you think it’ll survive this?” The portal. Who’s going to protect the portal?
“Soos is in charge while I’m gone. Hopefully this whole thing will blow over quickly.” He’ll attract less attention. I’ll try to escape when I can.
Tad rubbed his face and had to resist the urge to reach for his husband-for-tax-benefits. Stan wasn’t wearing his ring (he rarely did), and Tad’s had been rendered invisible by glamour.
“I… I’ll see you on the flipside, sir.” Be safe. I love you.
“Take care of yourself, Tad.” Love you too.
–
Tad was released from questioning shortly after, and all he could do was pace around his apartment. He located a couple bugs and destroyed them quickly, then checked his hiding places; the ones disguised with magic. Every hidden compartment seemed secure, and nothing had been taken. He breathed a sigh of relief, but now he had nothing to do while waiting for Stan to get back into contact.
Four loaves of bread and and two deep-cleans later, and the sun had long since set. The television and the radio were set to local news stations; he even pulled out his police scanner. Unfortunately, the government stooge’s frequencies seemed to be encrypted at levels he couldn’t currently decipher, and he made a mental note to upgrade ASAP. The only update he’d gotten was around midnight, when all units were summoned to converge at the Shack. Then everything went radio silent…
Four hours later, Tad’s phone began ringing, and he immediately picked it up.
“Tad.”
It was Stan! He’d escaped!
“Tiger! What happened, is everything okay? Tell me everything!” Tad’s mind was racing, how did he get out? Where were the kids? What happened with the portal?
“Tad, you’re not gonna fucking believe this.” He sounded out of breath, and his voice was hoarse as if he’d been yelling. Or crying. Or both.
“It worked. He’s back. Ford’s back.”