shoutouts to sincerelymendacious here, chloe-barge on tumblr, and the cool folks on discord for feedback and inspiration

The sensible little Toyota Whatever blasted down the Minnesota freeway at a speed that was completely un-sensible. Its engine whirred and whined in protest like the droning wingbeats of a giant pissed off hornet. In the rental car's passenger seat, Psychonaut Agent Dogen Boole was regretting several decisions that had ultimately put his partner, Agent Razputin Aquato, behind the wheel instead of himself. Aquato's lead foot was legendary and Dogen had not only known better, he had also been specifically instructed to keep his coworker out of the driver's seat. Unfortunately, he'd zoned out and amicably plopped the keys into Raz's outstretched palm immediately upon receiving them at the airport.

Dogen peeked over at the dashboard and checked the speedometer, which read ninety-five miles per hour. Certain people would have been amazed a compact car like this had attained such velocity. Agent Boole was not one of them. "Raz?" He asked.

Razputin glanced briefly toward him, the mirrored lenses of his sunglasses reflecting the morning sun back like a couple of laser beams and left Dogen seeing spots. "What's up, buddy?"

"Aren't you going a little fast?"

The space between Dogen's question and Raz's answer was punctuated by angry honking from a minivan that Raz cut off as he weaved between lanes.

"Don't worry, we're cool," Raz said. "I can sense the drivers around me. And if the cops pull us over, I'll tell 'em we're secret agents. If anything, they'll thank us for our prompt arrival."

Dogen thought that sounded like absolute bullshit. He frowned, but said nothing, not wanting to compromise Raz's attention any longer than necessary.

After nearly half an hour more of constant anxiety, Raz's phone GPS gave an alert and they pulled over to the exit ramp. The phone's robotic voice continued to bark out instructions for several more miles. Dirty fields between paved road became suburbs became a moderately sized Midwestern downtown. Raz turned, drove into a parking lot flanked by neat hedges, and killed the engine. Dogen had assumed they would be stopping at the hotel Headquarters had arranged for them first, but this building looked to be government-related. Before he could voice his confusion, Raz explained.

"It's way too early to check in at the hotel." He swung his legs out sideways, boots crunching on loose gravel from the pavement. "So I figured we could hit the police station and see what they know." Raz stood, slamming the car door behind him.

That made sense. Dogen exited the vehicle as well, and followed Raz up to the automatic doors at the front of the building. Raz gestured at the door as he approached, as if he were using telekinesis to open it. Dogen shook his head, but found himself half-smiling despite himself at Raz's old, overused joke. As the two crossed the threshold, Dogen noticed the smartly-dressed, middle aged woman at the information desk eyeing them warily.

She thinks you're just some kid goofing around, Dogen relayed to his partner telepathically.

Raz didn't outright acknowledge Dogen's message, but puffed up his chest and stepped over to the counter. "Excuse me, ma'am," Raz said, voice an octave or two lower than normal, in what was surely an attempt to sound serious and mature. "We're with the Psychonauts."

The receptionist gave Raz an aggrieved stare over the top edge of her glasses; if she hadn't assumed they were a couple of kids pulling pranks before, she certainly did now. "May I see your ID?"

As Raz fumbled through his jacket's many pockets, Dogen stepped up and showed her his official Psychonaut agent identification card. "We're here about a suspicious incident report," he explained. The receptionist relaxed after proper identification was shown. She picked up the phone on her desk, and pressed a speed dial button.

"Chief Johansson, I have two young men from the Psychonauts here to speak with you." She paused as the other party gave instructions for her to relay.

Raz tapped his gloved fingers on the counter. As the senior of the two agents, he'd spent much more time in city halls exactly like this, waiting for the local authorities to brief him on cases. Thankfully, they didn't need to wait very long this time.

"Go up the stairs," she jabbed a manicured finger in the direction of the stairwell, "and down the hall. Johansson's office is the last door on the left. He'll meet you up there in about ten minutes."

Raz thanked the receptionist and headed up the stairs. Dogen followed, venturing deeper into the cold, clean linoleum labyrinth of the government building. Nondescript photos of past police chiefs lined the second-story hall, and a glass case displayed old badges, American flags, and other assorted relics of law enforcement past.

All in all, it felt a lot like the offices back at Psychonauts HQ. The familiarity put Dogen at ease, so much so that he didn't notice Raz was talking to him right away.

"...So don't get your hopes up." Raz concluded. Then he turned to look at Dogen, saw his perplexed expression, and put two and two together.

"Sorry," Dogen said sheepishly.

Raz shrugged it off; he was too familiar with Dogen's brand of inattentiveness to take offense over having to repeat himself. "I was just saying, don't get too excited about this case." There was a bench opposite the door to the chief's office, and the conversation paused briefly as both Raz and Dogen took a seat. "I've been on like a hundred cases like this. It's probably just some dumbass kid with weak powers causing trouble."

"Really? You think?" Dogen slid his phone from his pocket just enough to glance at the time. The display read 9:14 AM.

Raz raised his arms up so that his hands rested between his head and the wall, a gesture that made him look as if he were just relaxing there without a care in the world. "Yeah man, once you've been an Agent for awhile you start to realize pretty fast that most cases are pretty bullshit." He slouched down low on the bench, long legs sticking out so far they blocked part of the hall like a human road barricade. "This is gonna be nothing. We'll be home by this time tomorrow."

Dogen wasn't born yesterday, and this wasn't his first case. But he had only been a Psychonaut for a few months now and Raz was his best friend, so he was inclined to believe him.

Still, he thought it seemed a little careless to treat this as no big deal before they'd got all the details. "We've still got to take this seriously, Raz." He said. "Even if it's probably nothing."

As Dogen spoke, Raz pulled his phone out and started tapping at the screen. "Yeah, you're probably right." Raz smirked and let out a quiet chuckle at the device in his hand. "Hey, get in close for a sec, I want to send a picture of us to Lili."

Dogen leaned close to Raz as he was asked. As Raz was pulling a goofy face and snapping the photo, a squat, balding man in a police uniform approached.

"Do you kids need something?" He asked.

Raz squawked and dropped his phone, but caught it telekinetically before it could hit the floor. It hung there awkwardly for a few seconds before he reached out to grab it.

"Oh," said the cop. "You boys must be with the Psychonauts." Dogen winced at the sound of disappointment in his voice. "I'm Chief Patrick Johansson."

Raz noticed the man's apprehension, and jumped to his feet, ready to turn on the charm for the chief. He stood up straight and went in for a handshake, pumping the chief's arm up and down a little more vigorously than advisable. "Yes, Sir, we're with the Psychonauts." Raz stepped back and clapped Dogen on the shoulder. "This is Psychonaut Agent Dogen Boole, and I am Psychonaut Agent Razputin Aquato." He detached himself from Dogen and took one large step toward the office door. "Shall we?"

Chief Johansson's brow furrowed; he seemed a bit put off by Raz's behavior. "Okay, Agent Aquato. Agent Boole." Both names sounded a bit off in the chief's heavy Midwest accent. "If you boys would step into my office, we can get started."

Raz followed the chief and Dogen followed Raz into the small room. The walls were so heavily decorated with awards, informational posters, and photographs of the Johansson and his family that it felt claustrophobic. As they took a seat on their respective sides of the desk, Johansson offered them mint Lifesavers from a commemorative mug.

Dogen disliked the flavor, but didn't want to offend, so he took one and pocketed it while Raz unwrapped and crunched his piece of candy loudly.

"So," said the chief, doing a half-turn in his office chair to pluck a manila folder from the filing cabinets behind him, "this is what I need your help with." Johansson opened the folder and fanned out the papers inside. Several grainy stills taken from a security camera feed immediately caught Dogen's eye.

He picked one up. The figure appeared to be outside of an office building at night, interacting with the security system's keypad.

"As you can see," Johansson explained, "we've had a string of break-ins in around town."

Raz rubbed his chin, frowning. "How do you know this involves psychics?" You better not be wasting our time, Dogen overheard him think.

The chief pulled out a paper near the bottom of the stack. "We have clear footage of the suspect up until he destroyed one of the security cameras," he said, then held up the paper.

"Mm. Yeah." Raz said as he looked at a picture of a man obviously levitating down from third story window. "That's a psychic."

Johansson slid the photo back into the pile. "Anyway, this guy's been breaking into industrial buildings, office buildings. He makes a copy of their computer records and leaves." He let out a stressed chuckle. "Between the three of us, it'd be easier if he was just robbing banks. I don't understand technology like you young folks do."

Dogen could sense Raz getting impatient with the man's pleasantries. "We can search the crime scenes for psychic energy," he interjected, preemptively cutting short any smart remarks that might've been on the tip of Raz's tongue. "All we need is a copy of the addresses."

The chief almost jumped at the sound of Dogen's voice, then covered up his surprise by digging in the folder just a little longer than necessary to give himself time to regain his composure. "Here you are, Agent Boole, was it?"

Dogen didn't want to outwardly show he knew he'd startled Johansson. He took the paper and thanked him and let Raz handle the rest of the talking.