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I
“So, starlight, do you believe in vampires?”
Irratino's question made Logico look up from the antique vase he was currently dusting for fingerprints. This art gallery really did have a disturbing amount of murders occur in its walls, to the point that they didn't even bother explaining why they were calling Logico anymore. Perhaps the abstract statues were more Lovecraftian than they seemed- they certainly drove Logico to madness trying to make sense of them. Then again, if they were eldritch, Irratino would have been all over them by now.
“And why are you asking me this?” Logico asked, raising an eyebrow before studying the fingerprints once more. The strange upside to everyone being accused of murder as frequently as they were was that Logico had everyone’s information ready to go, regardless of who was at the crime scene. That, and he was getting quite good at remembering whose fingerprints were whose. He only needed a quick glance at his notebook to realize Dame Obsidian had the vase. And if she had the vase, then Mayor Honey had the painting, being the only other left-handed suspect. Both facts were marked on his grid with a swift series of checks and crosses.
“Just curious is all. So, what do you think of vampires? Fact or fiction?” Irratino shuffled his Marot cards with a flourish, their gilded backs catching the light and sparkling in his periphery. Logico didn’t even need to look at him to know he was smirking. Irratino wasn’t subtle in the slightest. Granted, he had a lot going against him in that category- He had an excitable personality and readiness to ramble about the mystic theories at a moment’s notice, a frankly ridiculous amount of wealth, a tall enough build that even Logico had to look up at him, and the most stunning green eyes and long, brown curls that Logico had ever seen. To say he stood out was an understatement.
“If and only if I found irrefutable proof that vampires were real, then I would believe in their existence. And I will concede that out of all the monsters that made it big in pop culture, they're one of the more likely ones to actually exist," he answered. “I’m guessing you believe in them?”
A staff member approached and handed Logico a neatly folded note. He murmured his thanks and got a tiny nod in return before she slipped away once more, clearly eager to leave the crime scene. He unfolded the note and smoothed out the creases, tapping his pen against his chin. A habit he picked up in recent years when biting at his lip was no longer an option. At least he healed quickly. He scanned the page, looking for any familiar letter combinations- There. GSV, a key indicator that this was written in Detective Code. Time to break out the decoder ring and start spinning.
“Well, I haven’t found any proof that they don’t exist, so who’s to say they’re not real? On an entirely unrelated note, doesn’t that outfit of yours get hot? I mean, a heavy trench coat-“
“It’s nice having the pockets.”
“Don't your hands get sweaty wearing leather gloves all the time?“
“They keep my fingerprints from contaminating evidence.“
“The scarf has to get really hot, though."
“Honestly, I just like the way it looks.”
“And the fedora?”
“Sun protection.” According to the note he got, the second shortest suspect didn’t want to rob anyone. That was Agent Fuchsia, and that subsequently meant she didn’t have the glass of wine. One more check mark and all the suspects and weapons were accounted for. Now, to figure out who was lying. “Besides, I like the detective look. I think it lends me a bit more credibility. Especially considering I have a degree in logic compared to something like forensics.”
“Sun protection? Does that mean even a sliver of sunlight would burn you? Good to know.” Irratino’s grin turned conspiratorial as he pushed the Marot cards back together into one neat deck. “I guess that rules out a beach date. Which is a shame, you would look really good in swim trunks. Or maybe a-"
"Tino, we're in public. And investigating a murder," Logico huffed. Irratino didn't even try to look embarrassed.
"Where would you like to go, then? An old, gothic castle? Maybe a walk deep in the forest, where the leaves are so thick they blot out the sun? Ooh, maybe we could go to the zoo together? I’ve heard they have a new bat exhibit!” He offered instead.
Not subtle at all. Logico rolled his eyes, a wave of fondness making something flutter sweetly in his chest. Not his heart, that had been frozen and still for years, but something similar. “Let me guess, the cards told you that?”
“No, I’m just subscribed to their newsletter. The cards told me that Silverton wasn’t in the studio.” Irratino chuckled. Another X on the page. “But regardless. What about donating blood together?”
A loud bark of laughter escaped his lips and broke through his composure, but even after he got that back under control, he couldn't tamp down his smile. He shook his head adoringly. “You’re really something special, you know that? If you're getting bored of going to the theater, you can just tell me."
“No, I like going with you! I just wondered if any of my other ideas caught your interest.” Irratino leaned in a little closer, and if they weren’t in public, Logico probably would have given him a quick kiss on the corner of his confident smirk. “So? Any interest?”
“Do I really strike you as a modern day Count Dracula?” The obvious clues about this mystery were already checked off, meaning it was time to check for any other connections or clues before he started taking statements. Hopefully, he’d be able to immediately catch someone in their lie, or at least prove someone was telling the truth. “Besides, calling me a vampire just because of my outfit is a little far-fetched, even for you, you have to admit.”
"It's not just the outfit, you know. Call it a hunch. Or a whisper from the collective subconscious about the subtle supernatural hint to your vibe. A whisper that has only grown louder the more I spend time with you."
"So, your theory is based off my outfit and the way the 'collective subconscious' has judged me?"
"What more proof do I need?"
"You know how I'm going to answer that."
Irratino opened his mouth, then closed it, his brows furrowing in thought. Logico waited for him to speak. Not like the suspects were going anywhere. “What about this? I'll back up my hunch with evidence and logical deduction on my side. If I'm right, then you concede you are supernatural and vibes are a perfectly valid method of investigation. If it goes nowhere, then I'll admit my fantasies ran away with me and count that as logic's victory over the esoteric for the week."
"You're betting your Sunday routine on this?" Logico said, unable to keep the slight incredulity out of his tone. Nothing swayed him from giving Logico his weekly heart attack.
"I have a feeling I won't have to give it up," Irratino replied with a shrug and cryptic smile.
Logico really couldn’t deny Irratino anything. And besides, he and Irratino had been together for a decent amount of time now. He trusted him, for one, and also wanted to let Irratino into more of his life. "You know what? Deal. Now how about we solve this investigation before you start your own?"
He walked back to the lineup of suspects, writing down each of their statements with deft strokes of his pen. Comparing them to the grid didn't show any immediate contradictions, but it did back up Obsidian's statement as being true. That left three more possibilities for the killer, but Fuchsia and Silverton’s statements were directly contradictory. The killer had to be one of those two, then.
“Need a hint?” Irratino offered, pulling his list of daily horoscopes from his pocket. Logico just smiled.
“I think I’ve just figured it out.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
II
“Don’t chefs usually taste their food as they’re making it?”
Logico paused in the slicing of bell peppers at Irratino’s question. He was sitting across from the counter, comfortably seated in a cushy barstool that, in Logico’s humble opinion, was way too nice to be in such close vicinity to food. He’d already long since accepted the fact that Irratino wanting to learn to cook was just a thinly veiled excuse to watch Logico in the kitchen rather than actually try to learn much. It was fine, though. At least he could use family recipes he learned in college when he got sick of instant ramen, rather than let those memories effectively collect dust.
“Usually, tasting occurs a little later than the ‘slicing raw vegetables’ phase, Tino,” Logico said, continuing to cut the peppers into strips. “Besides, I’m cooking this for you, aren’t I? If anything, you’d be a more accurate judge on if it’s good or not than me.”
Especially considering that most food just tasted disgusting to Logico now. The only two things he could still actually enjoy were water and, of all things, coffee. Which was intriguing, because he didn’t need caffeine when his new nature kept him awake just fine. Everything else, though had become wholly unappetizing. It always tasted too strong, or too sweet, or too bitter. Even the iron-rich foods he could stomach, as long as he kept them in moderation, tasted strange at best. Which left him to cook from memory and Irratino's input alone.
“Okay, fair,” Irratino conceded with a grin that Logico knew would be broken by questions in moments. But it was hard to be too bothered with how endearingly domestic this whole scene felt. Irratino really did look nice, even in his pajamas, with his hair tied into a loose braid and his contacts replaced by sleek, black glasses. “But, come to think of it, I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve actually seen you eat. Most peculiar, you must admit.”
“It’s rude to interrogate the chef. Especially when you're spectating and I'm doing the work here,” Logico huffed, scraping the peppers into a bowl. The scent was overpowering, like almost everything was nowadays, yet familiar enough to not make him want to wrinkle his nose.
“I mean, the last time I tried to cook, I nearly burned the kitchen down.”
"I remember." It was rather hard to forget, considering the mad dash Logico had to make for the fire extinguisher and the hour it took to clean everything up afterwards. Not to mention the way his ears rang for hours from the sound of the fire alarm or the way the stench of charcoal and melted plastic lingered in Irratino’s kitchen, still detectable by him even after it long faded for the inspector. “We'll work up to using the oven someday. For now, you can still help with the nonflammable aspects. Like cutting vegetables.”
He beckoned Irratino closer with a quick hand wave, grabbing the small container of mushrooms. Though, he paused before handing him a knife. “You know how to cut vegetables, right?”
“Well, I liked to watch our chef a lot when I was younger. It can’t be that hard, right?”
Probably best to show him how to do this, then. He shifted so he was standing behind Irratino, gently wrapping his fingers around his wrists to guide him through the motions. His scent of lavender soap and freshly laundered clothes was a nice reprieve from the strong sting of peppers and spice. Soft, simple, and all the more comforting because of it. Not for the first time, he wondered how he got so lucky to be with Irratino.
“Goodness, starlight, your hands are freezing!” Irratino flinched as soon as Logico’s fingers wrapped around his wrists. There went any chance of quietly indulging in the contact for a while. But Irratino was very quick to recover, turning his head back to show his eyes had that conspiratorial glint he'd gotten very fond of recently. “Any reason for that?”
”Maybe I just washed my hands with cold water before cooking.”
“Or maybe you have some sort of circulatory issue? Like a lack of blood?”
"That's quite the conclusion to draw from just having cold hands,” Logico chuckled. “Now pay attention, alright?” He gently guided Irratino through the motions, adjusting his hand to make sure he held the mushroom with his knuckles to avoid cuts. It was a bit challenging to have to guide Irratino with his non-dominant hand, he'd admit. But they worked through the first one with fairly even slices quickly enough.
“So that's one down- How many more should I do?"
“I’d say seven more,” Logico answered, getting started on dicing the onion. He’d just have to ignore the smell and hope he wouldn't tear up too badly. "But it's your meal, so you can go with whatever you'd like."
“What's this? Logico being flexible with measurements and specifics? I'm not sure if the world is ending, or my appreciation for a more flexible approach to life has rubbed off on you,” Irratino teased, and his tone slid warmly through the air with the dull sounds of vegetables being chopped. If Logico wasn't already hopelessly besotted, the way he sounded just then would have done him in.
“Very funny, hermoso. For the record, cooking is entirely a science. It’s chemical reactions all the way down, from techniques to flavor combinations."
“Isn’t it all about culture and expression, though? And what is art if not that? A window to the soul?”
“I'd say you're right if you're talking about cuisine in broad strokes. But cooking is still all chemistry.”
“Well, then what motivated you to learn? A desire to connect with your family or heritage, nourish loved ones-“
“My main motivation was not wanting to starve to death in college without living off of instant ramen or drain my wallet by going out to eat.”
“Still, there has to be something- Ow!” The sweet-sharp tang of blood filled the air, cutting through every other scent. Logico whipped around. Blood was steadily beading on the side of Irratino’s finger, the knife discarded on the cutting board with the pile of mushroom slices. "Damn it-"
“Are you alright?“ Logico asked.
“Just cut my finger.” He held it closer to Logico’s face, his smirk clearly belying the fact he expected some sort of reaction. “Only a little nick.”
“I'm glad it's nothing serious, but you should still clean that and put a band-aid on it. Also, you’ve seen me around murder victims before. Clearly, I don’t go feral at the sight of blood,” Logico huffed. After all, it was just sustenance. And thanks to a deal he struck with a local butcher's shop after solving a murder for them, he had plenty of animal's blood to keep himself satiated.
But even without that, even if he was on the brink of starvation, he'd rather die than hurt Irratino.
“Hmm, if you say so,” Irratino shrugged. And yet, he was still holding his finger up to Logico. Still expectant.
Logico kissed his knuckle, pointedly avoiding the bright red smear on his finger. “There. Better now?”
“Almost as good as new. But don't think I'm giving up so easily.” Irratino smiled as he made his way out of the kitchen. He paused before turning the corner, full-on grinning over his shoulder as he said, “After all, the 'handwashing' explanation doesn't really explain why your lips are ice cold, too.”
III
“What do you prefer- Gold or silver?”
Irratino asked this while gazing appraisingly at one of the many display cases of jewelry that surrounded them. As a reward for solving the murder of their cashier that occurred at their grand opening - committed by Signor Emerald with the hammer in the parking lot - the owner thanked them by insisting on letting each of them take something home. Logico planned on insisting that hard work and locking up murderers was its own reward. Irratino, however, was easily seduced by the promise shiny things and eagerly accepted before Logico could say anything.
So, here he was, trying to appear unbothered by his current surroundings. The cold white lighting bounced off planes of glass, glinted across precious metals, and dazzled over facets of gemstones, far too bright and forcing him to squint and try and tilt his hat to block the worst of it. But it was the overabundance of silver that made things borderline unbearable. He was starting to really get what Irratino meant when he talked about things having good or bad vibes. All the silver on seemed to make his skin prickle with unease and the air buzz with what really did feel like malicious intent.
Logically, he knew as long as he didn’t touch it, he’d be perfectly fine. Still didn’t make him feel any less unsettled. There were surely even more uncomfortable places to be in, he knew, but this was rapidly climbing up to the top ten. Or five. Maybe even three.
“Gold. I’m, ah, allergic to silver,” Logico answered, shoving his hands in his pockets. Irratino got that same investigative look in his eyes, but this time, his curiosity was edged with a hint of concern.
“Allergic to silver, you say? How so?” His attention quickly shifted from the display case to Logico, his eyebrows knitting together.
“It's only from contact, don't worry. But to say it's unpleasant is an understatement.” He held up his gloved hand, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice as he added, “I suppose it's a good thing I cover up as much as I do with my detective getup, isn't it?"
“Of course you remember that conversation, darling.”
“When it comes to cases, including side conversations, I remember everything.” Logico tapped his temple. That, and he made it a special point to commit nearly every moment spent with Irratino to memory. No matter how mundane, he didn't want any second spent together to slip away from being forgotten, because who knew what the future held? “Any ideas of what you might want to get?”
“Not a clue, honestly. There are just too many options. What about you? Anything catching your eye?”
“Honestly, the only jewelry I wear is cufflinks, and that’s only when I’m going out with you.”
“Well, then this is the perfect time to get a new set!” Irratino started pulling Logico towards the back of the store. Come to think of it, Logico could stand to have an extra pair. He sold his old silver set long ago, leaving him with a pair of plain, unembellished steel circles and a slightly nicer pair that was a gold plated, stylized knot. “There'll be plenty without any silver, not to mention gemstones- What do you think of garnets?”
Logico followed Irratino’s outstretched finger, biting back a grimace as a neighboring diamond necklace reflected too much light and filled his vision with spots. The upside to his vision being this keen was that it made looking for subtle clues a breeze. The downside was being as sensitive to light as he was and it would be strange to put on his sunglasses indoors.
“Like those pins from that thing you were a part of in college?” Never mind the fact he thought they were rubies for far too long. In his defense, they were similar enough shades of red, and it wasn't like Logico had seen many gemstones in his life.
“Yep, though I was thinking of them because it’s your birthstone.”
“How many things can get associated with your birthday?”
“You'd be surprised! There's astrological signs, which of course has your sun and moon and rising signs, and then there's also gemstones, flowers, trees-“
“I think I'll stick to a month, day, and year.”
“So closed minded, starlight.” Irratino let out a dramatic sigh, his curls bouncing as he shook his head before he paused at a display case. Logico gave a half chuckle in spite of himself. “See anything you like?”
"I do, but it's not jewelry that's caught my eye," Logico murmured, smiling up at Irratino and watching as his cheeks turned a pale pink. It was simply too good of an opportunity to pass up. And it was nice to fluster Irratino for once, rather than the other way around like it usually was.
“Charmer. If you keep saying things like that, I might have no choice other than to ask you out,” Irratino replied with a wink. Logico chuckled and gently squeezed his shoulder before taking a moment to soak up the calm that came with Irratino’s body against his. Lavender and sandalwood from his cologne, cocoa and something floral from his hair products, and cinnamon sugar from the cinnamon roll he grabbed at a neighboring kiosk formed a comforting redolence that was unmistakably Irratino. All of this combined with the tickle of his hair against Logico’s cheek and the comforting warmth of his body, he could almost forget about the oppressive aura of silver.
The cufflinks on display really were something to behold, all of them stunning examples of craftsmanship. Even the simplest ones spoke to elegance, with their metal carved to look like it was braided around simple shapes. The more detailed ones looked like they belonged in an exhibit, or at least to someone far above Logico's tax bracket. Gemstones of every color glittered in beds of silver and gold and platinum and bronze. Some of them were centerpieces, others simply accompanying details. All of them seemed far too opulent to choose from. Too nice to ever be taken out of their little velvet cushioned boxes, much less worn on shirts that Logico picked off the clearance rack.
“Even if I wasn't out of my element, I still would have no clue what to pick.” Logico confessed.
“Me neither, they’re all so lovely,” Irratino sighed, before he lit up. “I know! What if we picked something out for each other? Don’t worry, I’ll stay far away from silver.”
“Alright, but just so you know, if you get me with bloodstone-“
“You said it, not me. Besides, bloodstone is used more for its protective properties than anything else, and I already know exactly what I'd like to get you.”
IV
“If I rested my head on your chest, would I feel a heartbeat?”
Irratino asked this question curled up in Logico’s bed, nestled under his comforters. The fact that it was such a normal way to spend a Sunday night is what made it unusual. The morning was the same as ever, with Irratino pulling his usual trick of faking his murder for Logico to solve. But instead of following it up with a night at the bar, dinner, stage show, or lecture, Irratino asked if they could cap the night off just hanging out at Logico's apartment. Apparently, lying 'dead' at the top of the guard tower gave him ample time to read the messages written in the clouds, which told him to take the night off. That, and he was tired from having to walk up and down the stairs.
Logico didn’t mind at all. Even if he was certain Irratino had the ulterior motive of trying to gather more evidence, it would be nice to not have to pretend to enjoy food or drink. And Irratino did look attractive in Logico’s pajamas, even if they were just an old college tee and sweatpants. Especially when he was comfortably tucked into his bed, his braid cascading down over his shoulder and his glasses reflecting the warm lamplight.
“Considering I’m in a thick sweatshirt and feeling pretty calm? Probably not. But you can also just ask to cuddle.” Logico pulled down his blinds, dark and thick and made to keep any semblance of sunlight out. He’d felt the wrath of the sun on his new skin once before, when he wanted to see if the legends were true. It was an agony he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
“Well, I change both of those things quite easily, you know.” Irratino teased. He winked and propped his head up on his hand.
“You’re incorrigible, hermoso, you know that?” He chuckled softly, feeling the phantom sensation of a blush prick at his cheeks. “You, uh, don’t mind the blinds closed, right? I can’t really rest with them open.”
“Not at all, really. Besides, it’s your apartment, you can do whatever you want with your blinds.”
“Still, I know you like to get up early, and didn’t want to totally throw you off by making it pitch black in here.”
“You’re really sweet, you know that? Don't worry, I’ve spent a lot of time attuning myself and my sleep schedule to the rising and setting of the sun. So I don't even need to see it to get up right at sunrise."
“Mm. Just be sure to keep the blinds closed, alright?”
“Of course. After all, sunburns are a real danger for you, aren't they?" His eyes glittered again. "Far be it from me to interrupt my partner's rest, after all."
Logico knew Irratino would pick up on his word choice. He counted on it, even.
“Precisely.” Logico climbed onto the bed, getting comfortable atop the covers. He brushed a stray curl out of Irratino's face before gently running a finger down the length of his braid, still slightly damp from the shower. Irratino wasted no time in moving closer and resting his head on Logico’s chest, his glasses getting pushed askew with how he angled his head. Logico gently set them aside, next to the small velvet box that held both sets of cufflinks from the murder they solved not even a week ago- A Capricorn symbol wrought in gold for Logico, the imaginary number 'i' for Irratino. A concession that even the hard sciences didn't always make sense.
“You know, I’m not hearing anything,” Irratino murmured, a faint sing-songing lilt to his words as he sleepily smiled up at him. "Not even a little heartbeat."
“Probably due to the fact you're lying on my right side.” Logico gently wrapped an arm around his waist.
“Oh.” Irratino’s smirk turned a bit sheepish. But he looked far too comfortable to move. And Logico was already comfortable with the warm weight of Irratino against him, the soft feeling of his chest rising and falling with each breath. A part of him itched to undo the braid and run his fingers through his impossibly soft hair, never mind the huff off annoyance he knew he would get. Irratino just hooked his leg over Logico's calf to pull himself closer.
“You’re adorable, Tino. And you still think I’m a vampire, huh? ”Logico chuckled softly.
“Oh, I’m just days away from proving it for good. Unless you want to grin for me?”
“If I did, that would make it too easy for you. You wanted to prove it yourself, not have me prove it for you.”
“How about answering this for me, then- what time do you go to sleep, really? You’ve told me you’re a ‘night owl’, but you’re always bright and alert no matter what time we're called for a case. Even I know coffee isn’t that good.”
“Well, I’ve always tried to get to sleep around two in the morning at the latest.” Once the thrill of staying up all night wore off, replaced by the realization he only had so many ways to fill those extra eight hours, he opted to sleep again. Though, calling it as sleep was a stretch. It was more like a semi-conscious trance that left him just aware enough to respond to any immediate stimuli.
“That would put you at seven hours on good days and five at the worst. Still, I've never seen you tired on the job,” Irratino said, and yawned immediately after. “Almost like you don’t even need to sleep.”
“Something that clearly doesn’t apply to you.” Logico chuckled, tightening his grip on Irratino’s waist just slightly to invite him to cuddle closer. His soft, warm breaths barely ghosted over Logico’s neck. “Sweet dreams, Tino.”
“Don’t I at least get a kiss goodnight?” He could see that troublesome glint in his half-lidded eyes clear as anything. He knew Irratino had some hidden agenda with this kiss, but he didn’t mind very much at all. A part of him even wondered what he had up his sleeves.
So he just waved his hand to encourage him to come closer to get a gentle kiss on the lips. A kiss Irratino was quick to deepen, his hand cupping Logico’s jawline before sliding his fingers down his neck, his soft fingers grazing lightly across his skin. Minor things he was distantly aware of, but didn't bother processing, not when Irratino was practically pulling himself on top of Logico as he broke the kiss. Why bother thinking about those little details when he had Irratino this close?
“I can’t feel your pulse, starlight,” Irratino whispered, mere inches away from his lips. Logico glanced at his hand. Irratino’s fingers were resting where his pulse was supposed to be. Clever. That was what he got for ignoring those 'little details'. "And you're still ice cold. Gonna try the ice water excuse here?"
"Of course you're bringing that up again. You're a menace sometimes, you know that?"
"A menace who's going to prove you're a vampire.” Irratino kissed him once more, too gentle to be a proper distraction for the way his fingers traced a little more along his neck, before stopping at once very particular spot. “After all, I think I have another piece of evidence right here."
"Those could be anything, you know.” Logico knew exactly what he was referring to- The two small, faint, almost imperceptible scars on his neck.
“I'm sure the very suspiciously fang shaped scars are something completely unrelated." Irratino just kissed his cheek. "Sooner or later, you'll run out of logical explanations for everything, and that will be the final piece of proof I need."
"Get some sleep, Tino."
"Sweet dreams, starlight- Assuming you have them, of course."
V
“Do you think reflections really are windows to the soul?”
This question was a lot more philosophical than the other ones Irratino had asked as of late. It echoed softly over the walls of the newest murder scene; a creaking old house that, apparently, was being used as a filming location for some new horror movie before a cameraman got killed. Which meant they were back to look for more clues.
“Um...Not really? It’s just light bouncing off a smooth surface. The closest window they are is if it's a reflection cast on a regular window.” Logico replied, turning away from the dining room table to face Irratino. His expression was distant and unfocused, gazing either into or somehow beyond the obsidian mirror in his hand. A scrying technique, and one that had held his attention for a solid five minutes already. “Why do you ask?”
“I've found scrying works best if I let my mind wander a little. It's easier to see past the reflections and more on what they mean when I don't focus on them. I've been thinking a bit about cameras and reflections as a result." Irratino’s words were ever so slightly dreamy as he continued to stare into the polished stone.
“Mm-hmm.” Logico examined the knife on the table, waiting for Irratino to continue. The fingerprints on the handle were too smudged to pin to a suspect, but they were right-handed for sure. Which only really said the Amazing Aureolin wasn’t in the dining room. And the knife was far too dull to be a potential murder weapon. Which was for the best, really, there were four suspects and he'd already pinned down four props and pieces of film equipment that could have been the weapons, and a new addition to that would throw his grid entirely amiss.
“Did you know that the reason why it's believed vampires don't have reflections is because they supposedly have no soul?"
There it was. Logico settled in to one of the dining chairs that felt sturdy, figuring he'd be here for a while if this was where Irratino's mind was wandering to. He could afford to wait a few more minutes before investigating the rest of the house. Besides, with the way the house creaked in a way that didn't give him any assurances of his safety, he wasn’t that eager to continue wandering. Testing the limits of his accelerated healing and supposed immortality wasn’t on his agenda for the week.
“So I’ve heard. But that also depends on if you believe in souls in the first place.”
“Let’s assume they do. Debating that now would break my concentration.”
“And talking about vampires and reflections doesn’t?”
“No, not at all. You're easy to talk to, even if you're a nightmare to debate."
"I'm hoping that's a compliment?"
"Of course it is. Besides, souls are much more complex to talk about than reflections. Personally, I think eyes are the real windows to the soul. Like the saying goes.”
“They are a very good indicator of emotions, at least. A smile not reaching the eyes is a very real thing.”
“I remember you telling me about that. It's got a name too, doesn't it? A real smile?” He looked up from his hand, blinking a few times before he slid the mirror into his pocket. It was strangely fascinating to see Irratino come back into lucidity. “A Libra was in the guest bedroom, by the way.”
“Thank you. And yes, it's called a Duchenne smile. Good memory, Tino.” Logico replied, offering a nod in appreciation. He made a hurried note of that tidbit of information before he made his way down the hall towards the aforementioned bedroom. It was worth seeing if he could identify if it was Tuscany or Aubergine that was in the bedroom, and potentially what weapon they might have used. He'd just tread lightly and sincerely hope the creaking floorboards held out for a little while longer.
“Well, I can’t let you be the only one who remembers just about everything. Besides, it’s hard to forget anything about you. You’re wonderfully unique,” Irratino replied, pushing the door open to the bedroom.
The room was equally as frozen in history as the rest of the house, or perhaps more so with just how much dust was on everything. The bed was still perfectly made, the vanity was still decorated with books so timeworn their titles were a greater mystery than the current murder, the curtains were drawn back to let in some stray rays of sunlight that poked through the trees outside. Which made the boom mic across the bed all the more obvious with how anachronistic it was. An easy check in his grid.
Though, the simple joy of checking something off and getting one step closer to the truth didn't quite override the prickling uneasiness that crept down his spine the second he stepped over the threshold. He took another cautious step inside. The sooner he could leave this room, the better he’d feel. The low hum of dread spiked as Irratino began dusting off the mirror with his shirt sleeve. Of course there'd be something silver in this room, in this house that was already a construction disaster waiting to happen. Be it some jewelry, the ornate photo frame on the opposite wall, a hairbrush, or-
“Oh, Logico,” Irratino snickered from behind him. “I knew you’d run out of things you could explain away with logic eventually.”
“Hmm?” He glanced over his shoulder. Irratino’s eyes sparkled as he sauntered over toward Logico, his grin confident, yet entirely inscrutable as to why.
“You don’t have a reflection.” Irratino gently grabbed Logico's shoulders and turned him to to face the vanity, barely stifling his giggles. “Who would have thought that the perfect tangible proof I’d been looking for was actually the complete absence of something?”
The mirror greeted him with a perfectly ordinary reflection of Irratino, one arm now draped over nothing, and a perfectly ordinary reflection of the bedroom they were in. Nothing and no one else.
“…Silver mirrors,” he sighed, shaking his head softly. That would explain the sudden unease he was overcome with upon entering the bedroom. “Of course they’d be around in a house as old as this.”
“And now, you have to admit, I was right about all those little details.” Irratino said, resting his head on Logico’s shoulder. It was strange how his reflection was propped up on nothing at all. “Your worries about sunburns, why you’re always cold to the touch, your aversions to silver jewelry, and your lack of a pulse. You’re a-“
“Any progress?” The silence of the room was interrupted by Uncle Midnight rapping on the door and poking his head through. How did he not hear him approaching? Had he been so distracted by his lack of a reflection? A step or two more and he’d surely catch sight of the fact only one of them was actually visible in the vanity mirror, and then what? He’d tried to keep this fact about himself a secret for so many reasons, and it wasn’t as if Midnight was even slightly likely to keep it to himself, but he could easily sidestep and hope he didn't move unreasonably fast-
The sound of shattering glass cut through his thoughts a second later, echoing and tinkling loudly as the mirror cracked and crumbled behind him.
“Stars and cosmos, oww! You startled me!” Irratino yelped, clutching his elbow with a wince. The unmistakable scent of blood filled the air just seconds later. What on earth was Irratino trying to accomplish with that maneuver!?
“Shoot, sorry!” Midnight raised his hands in surrender, already backing out of the room. “Just wanted to know if you’d gotten stuck somehow. I kinda have a shindig to get to after this, you know? But hey, looks like you've got a handle on things! I'll just leave you to it!”
“It’s almost solved,” Logico placated distantly, far more focused on rolling up Irratino's freshly bloodstained shirt to try and get a look at his elbow. His voice dropped to a low whisper as he hissed, “What was that for, Tino?”
“I was trying to protect you! With the whole 'reflection not existing' thing that would be pretty easy to see?” He whispered back, voice equal parts soft with affection and sharp with pain. “You really are, aren’t you? A-“
“Yes, I am.” Logico pulled the handkerchief out of Irratino’s breast pocket and tying it around his elbow to try and staunch the bleeding. “You didn’t need to break a mirror for me, that was stupid- What are you doing?”
“Undoing the bad luck,” Irratino replied, opening a salt packet with his teeth and tossing the contents over his left shoulder. “Trust me, I'm already regretting that idea a lot. But it was the first thing I felt I could do that would keep you from getting revealed.”
Logico just finished tying the handkerchief with a weary sigh. It really was hard to be upset when Irratino’s intentions were as pure as they were. Even if, at this rate, he was going to have gone grey before the decade was out.
“Let's wrap this up quickly so I can take a look at you at home, alright? And then we can talk about me?”
“I think that's one of your best ideas yet.”
VI
“You know, Logico, you really are a walking contradiction.”
This time, Irratino wasn’t asking a question, yet Logico was still just as confused as to what Irratino was getting at. All he knew was that his grin was very much a precursor to some very excited rambling that had clearly been building up for quite some time and was now gushing out in the privacy of Irratino’s home. “You adhere so much to logic, and yet here you are, a mythical creature!”
There it was. Logico chuckled as he shrugged off his trench coat and hung it on the coat rack by the door with his hat soon to follow. Irratino couldn’t be bothered with such trivial things in his excitement. All he did was kick off his shoes in the general direction of the otherwise neat lineup of footwear.
“If vampires were mythical, I wouldn’t be able to be one. Besides, it’s not that strange when you think about it. Hematophagy is already an observable phenomenon in other animals. Mosquitos and vampire bats are the obvious ones, but there’s also some species of birds and fish that live off blood, too,” Logico said.
“First of all, you’re a horrible buzzkill. Second of all, what about the other phenomena that are unique to vampires? Like your reflection? That's far more magic than science.” Irratino’s grin, aside from being infectious, completely nullified the put-off huff he tried to punctuate his words with.
“The reflection thing is something I can’t explain just yet outside of some reaction with silver, I will admit. Everything else is just simple biological changes that occurred as an effect of being afflicted with vampirism. Just some rewiring of genetics.”
“As if rewiring something so complicated and integral to who you are could be done without a little bit of magic.”
“A lot of diseases have really strange symptoms and manifestations. It’s not so farfetched if you think about it.”
“My darling Logico, you know that you're the beginning and of the world to me, right? The sun and stars in my sky?” Irratino cupped Logico’s face in his hands, lifting his gaze away from untying his shoes and up to meet Irratino’s eyes. His hands were as soft as ever, cooled from the chilly wind outside but still much warmer than Logico’s own skin. “You better let me have this.”
He had long since accepted he rarely had the strength to refuse Irratino anything. “Alright, but just for tonight. So long as you go to that physics seminar with me next week. And refrain from shattering any more mirrors. How’s your elbow doing?”
“Eh, just stings a little when I move it.”
“I still can’t believe you thought the best solution would be shattering a mirror, but at the same time, I can’t really say it’s all that unlike you at all.”
“Well, you said you’d answer all my questions while you patched me up, right?”
Logico nodded, tugging off his sneakers. Before he could line them up with all the others, however, Irratino grabbed his wrist and tugged him towards his bathroom. He’d just have to put them and Irratino’s in their proper places later. Once Irratino had gotten his fill of questions. For now, Logico just let himself get tugged up the stairs and down the hall, where Irratino eagerly thrust a first aid kit into his hands.
“So, what do you want to know?” Logico asked, opening the red box and looking for some antibiotic ointment and bandages. He dearly hoped it wasn't too serious. Given Irratino's impressively high pain tolerance as a consequence of getting pretend-murdered every Sunday, his claim of it stinging a little could mean just about anything from a mild scratch to requiring a hospital.
“How long have you been a vampire? Are werewolves and other things real, too? Do you really drink blood? Is my blood setting you off at all? Ooh, can you turn into a bat?” Irratino’s excitement was palpable as Logico untied the handkerchief around his injury and rolled up his shirt sleeve. It didn't look too bad at all, now that the bleeding had stopped. Thank God.
“Don't forget to breathe, Tino,” he chuckled, wetting a hand towel and pumping soap on it. He gently scrubbed at the wound while he answered. “One, only a few years. I’m not secretly centuries old or anything like that. Two, I doubt it, but I said the same about vampires once, too. Three, yes. I have a arrangement with a butchers shop for animal blood so I don’t have to go after humans or get suspiciously familiar with blood banks. Four, not at all. It’s just sustenance, and I'm not hungry all the time. And five, I can’t turn into a bat, that would be absurd."
“Absurdity is what makes life fun, though, isn’t it? Besides, can you imagine everyone's faces if you flew from one crime scene to the next?”
He couldn’t help but snort quietly at the idea of shapeshifting and flying away as he patted Irratino’s elbow dry and dabbed on the antibiotic ointment. That would reveal his secret all too quickly, to say the least. But it would be nice to save on gas and bus passes.
“Did it hurt?” Irratino’s fingers grazed against Logico’s neck, making him pause in his treating of Irratino’s elbow. He leaned in closer, unsure of what Irratino was trying to do but allowing it nonetheless. He pushed aside the collar of Logico’s shirt to gently run a finger across the small, circular scars on his neck. Mostly faded after all this time, but that's the closest they'd get to fully healed. "All of the stories I've heard make it sound rather painful. Even if all the stuff about silver and sunlight is true, I hope that aspect isn't.”
“Funnily enough, it’s one of the few cases where I don’t remember all the details,” Logico murmured. “All of my memories of that night are a vague blur. There’s bits and pieces that I recall clearly- I know I was investigating a case in some seedy back-alley joint, I know there were three other suspects, and I know none of them from our usual crowd. I remember getting cornered, and then just waking up the next morning. I don’t think it hurt, though. If it did, I probably would remember it, right?”
Irratino’s hand finally lifted. Logico gently took hold of Irratino’s arm and let him hold the gauze pad to his elbow, and softly wrapped it in bandages to hold it in place. The memories of that night constantly eluded him, no matter how he tried to coax them out of his subconscious. The only new detail managed to recall was the feeling of something cold and rough he deduced was either brick or pavement. Partly motivated by petty annoyance at having a smudge in his otherwise perfect recollection of cases and mysteries, partly because he really was curious to know what happened to him to change him so fundamentally.
And beneath all that, he was almost desperate to know who was responsible for changing him. What reasoning they had, not just in turning him, but in leaving without a trace afterwards. The odds of remembering those details were slim to none. The odds of finding his creator were even less than that. The idea that this gap in his memory was permanent really was an unsettling thought that he really did try to avoid confronting.
He cut off his thoughts before they could derail his focus as he tore strips of medical tape to keep the bandages secure. He didn’t want to have Irratino fretting over him more than he was now. Those brilliant green eyes of his were already starting to cloud with worry.
“There we go. How does it feel? Not to tight?” Logico cut through the silence and saw Irratino blink back into focus. He twisted and bent his arm experimentally before he nodded.
“Good as new.” Irratino smiled, taking a step closer. Another question was burning on his tongue already, it seemed, his gaze flickering down to Logico’s mouth for a brief moment. He knew exactly what Irratino was going to ask.
“You want to see if I have fangs, don’t you?”
“Well, of course I do! I’ve been trying to get a decent look at your teeth for ages, you know.”
“I'm almost concerned that I don't find that statement all that weird. Regardless, I do have fangs. They're just subtle.” With a soft sigh, Logico gave Irratino an awkward grin to display his pointed teeth. Two on top, two on bottom, slotting neatly against each other and just short enough to not constantly cut at his mouth.
“Your really do have fangs,” Irratino murmured. His tone shifted from awed to amused as he then asked, “Is that why you're always so gentle whenever we kiss?”
Logico huffed sharply through his nose. His cheeks prickled with what once would have been a blush. How like him to connect those two dots, of all things. "I figured it would have been quite startling to cut yourself on fangs you weren't expecting. Especially because you can get rather, well, eager."
“I think I would have found it in my heart to forgive you, starlight.” Irratino shrugged, leaning in a little closer. He really was going to be the death of him, he really was. "Or do I need to think of a new nickname for you now? Like something about bats or moonlight?”
“Hard pass, Tino. Very hard pass.”