Ok, TK here. Here's a little bit of pointless noir fiction with our echidna of the year. This is an alternate universe, so nothing's accurate, except the characters are the same people. Reviews always welcome!

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It had all come down to this. Just me and her, and her and me. We were the only two left.

Her eyes bored into mine, and I just glared back as we paced around one another, seeking a weak point, waiting to see what the other would do.

This wasn't the first time she'd done this, I don't think so. Nor was it my first time. After all, I did have to consider how this had occurred in the first place…

(Angel Island, 2 weeks earlier)

(It's raining hard. Dark, suggestive jazz starts playing. Close in on small office.)

The deal to end it all. That's what I thought. That's the one thing that crossed my mind that one day.

I knew it was big, first off. After all, you just don't call Knux for any old business.

That's my name, by the way. Knuckles. Just…Knuckles. Plain ol' Knuckles, P.I. I took up the new job after I started to find out that being a guardian time and time again pays nearly zilch, so there I was.

Anyway, I had been just sitting there when she walked in, which was a pity. I'd planned to take the day off with a friend of mine. The kind of friend that comes in a bottle. But a job's a job, after all. Pays the bills, Sonic would say.

She came in the way all clients of the gentle sex do – quiet, nervous – just ready to cut a deal. I was just about to start talkin' when she turned her head towards me. I would have spotted those green eyes and those pink quills a mile off, if it weren't for the fact that all noir fiction is in black and white.

Amy. Amy Rose. A loaded dame if ever there was one. And I had a distinct urge to "un" load her pretty soon. I've got those "sharks" from Chaotix on my back these days. But Amy and me had what you might call…history. She had always been Sonic's ticket, but that certainly didn't take her off my list, no sir. She'd certainly been in high society ever since the design for that hammer of hers had reached The Sharper Image.

I broke the silence by flicking open my Zippo and lit a cigarette, my fifth today.

It seemed to wake her up, like I had just started banging on a gong or something. She opened her mouth at last.

"I've got a job, Knux."

If it's another sneaky husband story, I thought, I'm joining Chaotix.

She looked at me, waiting for some sort of kind, fatherly response. None came. She went on. "I, um, I need to find Tails."

I puffed out some smoke nonchalantly. There it goes. One more sneaky husband, coming up.

You see, after she left me, Amy had struck up with some other guy I knew, a fox called Tails, a guy with an eye for technology and a nose for trouble. After our Team Sonic days he'd cashed out pretty good on some of his designs. The company, Prower Enterprises, made everything from planes to plates, and everything in between. Matter of fact, I think they make the .44 I keep back in my closet.

But anyway, I had no interest in finding some kitsune who talked like he'd swallowed a mouthful of helium. I crossed my arms in front of me, my eternal sign of stubbornness and reluctance. "What, seen him with someone?"

"No, he'd just been working on a new design, an Emerald-powered car. Well, he was at a meeting yesterday to license the patent, and I haven't seen him since."

I took another drag on my cigarette. I was interested. Industrial espionage plus kidnapping equals enough money to retire for Knuckles. "It'll cost you two hundred a day, plus expenses. What else should I know?"

"Well, if anyone's planning to steal it, the prototype's currently at the altar of the Emerald."

"Thanks. When do I start?"

"Whenever you're ready, Knux."

The way she said that, I realized that maybe she hadn't totally forgotten about us. Shame, because I had. I gave my best phony smile, and she left. I followed three minutes later, with enough cigarettes and bullets to last the night. The .44 bumped against my ribs in its shoulder holster, a feeling that had almost become too unfamiliar to me.

I walked out into the night, trying to figure out what I knew. Tails had evidently been onto something big, this car of his, apparently. Emerald energy is big these days, and that had led to a greater demand for every last one of them, a problem I was glad I was no longer Guardian for. The prototype of this car was at the altar. At least it was familiar territory.

But that was it. The motive could also be personal, and the theft of the plans for the car might just be a cover.

As I crossed by the next break in the glass-and-concrete canyon that my home has become, I realized that I had also forgotten to take my friend liquor with me. I lit another cigarette, just to compensate.

But it was hopeless. I needed hard answers and a drink. I knew a place where one can find both. Plus, the owner has an eye for emeralds, and maybe even me.

I crossed the street, and came face to face with my favorite booze pit.

Club Rouge…

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