It was raining in Station Square that day. Fat, heavy drops fell from a sky dark as coal, sliding down the window of the Chaotix Detective Agency's main (and only) office in uneven lines. It was dismal weather for detective work, which was why the infamous trio weren't doing any when the stranger clad in the brown raincoat walked in off the street that quiet afternoon.

Vector and Charmy had been immersed in a game of poker when the bell above the front door dinged, signalling their guest's arrival. Vector had in fact been mid-curse, having once again lost to the hyperactive bumblebee (despite said bee's insistence that he hadn't a clue how to play poker in the first place).

Espio, on the other hand, had been diligently practising his camouflage technique. Not because he particularly needed the practise, but rather because he'd needed an excuse to avoid joining in his comrades' game. Though skilled at many things, Espio had long since been forced to concede that the art of poker thoroughly eluded him.

That, and his wallet still hadn't recovered from his last gambling foray... But he didn't like to talk about that. What happens in Casino Park, stays in Casino Park.

The sodden stranger – for none of the three recognised their visitor at first, thanks to the deep hood which concealed most of the person's face – strolled slowly and casually around the room, admiring the sparse artwork on the walls and deliberately ignoring the detectives' curious stares.

Eventually, after a unnecessarily prolonged circuit of the small office, she (and she was most assuredly female, judging by her – ahem – attributes) approached Vector's desk, and sat confidently in the chair usually reserved for Vector himself.

"Gentlemen," she said softly at last, nodding to each of them in turn.

Vector and Charmy, who'd been playing at the cheap, plastic table in the corner – what passed for a dining room in their apartment-come-office – stood as one. The crocodile looked vaguely annoyed, but when he spoke his tone was courteous, if a little uncertain.

"Can we help you, Miss?"

"Yeah," Charmy chimed in, flying over and cocking his head inquiringly. "Are ya lost or somethin'?"

For his part, Espio observed silently

"I'm here to offer you work," the girl said matter-of-factly. "I heard you'll do anything that pays – am I right?"

Espio frowned. He hated it when prospective clients regurgitated that particular line. 'Anything' was subjective – the CDA were a respectable organisation, for the most part, and there were conditions... But most most people – for whatever reason – conveniently forgot that part. Vector included sometimes, much to Espio's continued dismay, especially in cases where particularly large quantities of money were involved.

"We'll consider almost any job that pays," Vector corrected, as though he'd heard the chameleon's thoughts. "We don't do anythin' illegal."

"It's not illegal," the girl said mildly. "Morally grey, maybe... but definitely not illegal."

Vector opened his mouth to reply, somewhat pacified, when something in Espio's mind clicked.

"Amy." His voice made everyone in the room jump; he might have taken offence, had he not already known that was the effect he tended to have on people. "Amy Rose," he clarified, low tone indifferent. "I knew I recognised you. Why the disguise?"

Amy – and now that they were paying attention, both Vector and Charmy realised, with a start, that it was indeed none other than she – fidgeted awkwardly in Vector's chair, all pretence of control fleeing now that she'd been identified. She looked away quickly, avoiding eye contact, and stammered out a less than convincing objection.

"A-ah... you must have, u-um, mistaken me for... for someone else..."

Espio, however, was quite sure this wasn't the case. "There's no mistake," he said simply.

"Amy!" Charmy exclaimed, buzzing around in an excited circle before plopping himself on Vector's desk. He leaned forward, peering inquisitively into the shadows of her hood even as she leaned away. "It is you!" he cried after several seconds, utterly delighted – whether with his own investigative prowess or with the unexpected pleasure of Amy's visit was anyone's guess. "Whatcha doin' here? And what's with that crazy getup?"

Amy turned her head firmly away and crossed her arms defensively over her chest. "That's not my name," she insisted huffily, to which the three Chaotix members raised their eyebrows in unison, sharing a glance. "Now, do you want my business or not?!"

"That depends," Vector drawled, smoothly glossing over the hedgehog's peculiar behaviour. There wasn't much he wouldn't ignore in favour of a decent pay packet. "What d'ya want us to do, and how much is it worth?"

Amy wasted no time, apparently as happy as Vector to let the matter drop.

"The details are in here." She reached into the left-hand pocket of her raincoat and pulled out an envelope – brown, A4 in size, carefully sealed and left unmarked. "As for payment-," she produced a pouch from her other pocket and threw it on the table with a heavy 'ting', "consider that a down payment. There's more where that came from if you do a good job."

Espio didn't have to look to know Vector was completely sold – the purse had sounded heavy, and such handsome compensation was a temptation he knew his fellow detective was unlikely to refuse. As usual, it would fall to him to be the voice of reason. And there was something Amy had said that gave him the most peculiar sensation of unease, deep in the pit of his stomach...

"You said 'morally grey'," he pointed out, addressing Amy and drawing everyone's attention once more. By the startled looks they sent him, he suspected they'd forgotten he was there. Again, something he was used to. "What does that mean, precisely?"

"It's all in there," Amy dismissed with a wave of her hand, a little too nonchalant for comfort. "You'll see what I mean when you open it."

Alarm bells rang in Espio's skull. Something definitely wasn't right. Illegal dealings weren't the only kind of distasteful work out there, and he would know – he was a ninja, after all. His intuition was screaming at him, telling him not to get involved in whatever scheme Amy had cooked up.

But before he could fashion his thoughts into words, Vector scooped up the bag and weighed it in his hand. He nodded once, thoughtfully, as though considering her offer, but Espio knew from past experience that it was just for show – the choice was made.

"All right, Am- er, I mean Miss," Vector said at length, crossing his arms over his large chest and puffing himself up importantly. Apparently, they were going to play along with her ridiculous disguise. "We'll take the job. Is there anythin' else we should know before we get started?"

Amy hesitated – an action that didn't ease Espio's anxieties one bit. Generally, if the client had to think twice about their request, it wasn't a good sign.

"No," she said at last, and the uncertainty in her voice made Espio's toes curl. "No, just follow the instructions and everything should be fine."

With that, she stood and waltzed past the trio, pausing at the door to glance at them over her shoulder. What her thoughts were at that moment, none could say. She may have been reconsidering, or she might just have been bidding them farewell. With her face so masked in shadow, even Espio couldn't tell. Then, with a sweep of her long raincoat, she left the Agency and disappeared into the sodden streets outside.

"This is a bad idea," Espio murmured immediately, frowning after the strange pink hedgehog. "I have a feeling in my gut..." He trailed off. He knew what Vector thought of hunches, and if he was going to convince him to drop this assignment – the chances of which were slim at best – it wasn't going to be done using 'instinct' for a defence. "We are going to regret getting involved in this," he said instead.

Vector dropped into his chair, the chair Amy had previously occupied, and scratched the underside of his snout with a hum.

"How d'ya figure?"

Espio's stomach clenched – he did not sound convinced.

"We all know that was Amy Rose," he began, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. "For some reason, she doesn't want anyone to know she was here – even us. That doesn't strike you as suspicious?"

The leader of the Chaotix shrugged. "She was always a weird kid."

Well, there was no arguing with that... Still, Vector was completely missing the point.

"True. But-,"

"Enough arguments, Espio," the croc interrupted, waving off his objections. "I get it – the case reeks of bad news."

"Then why are you taking it on?" Espio asked, trying to keep the frustration from his voice.

"Money!" Charmy cut in cheerfully.

Vector nodded in agreement. "Money," he said decisively. "We could use the cash, Espio."

"We don't need it," the chameleon muttered stubbornly.

While it was true the Agency didn't exactly rake in the gold, they were making the rent each month. There was plenty to eat from day to day, and they never had to do without the essentials, not even in their tightest spells. Perhaps it was a sparse life, but it was comfortable enough – they could manage perfectly well without Amy's patronage.

"I didn't say we needed it. I said we could use it." Vector opened the bag and started counting out rings as he spoke. "Y'know, for repairs and stuff."

Espio faltered. That crack in the bathroom wall has been there for some time now...

He mentally shook himself. Repairs could wait! His gut instinct was telling him not to take this job, and his gut was rarely wrong. He doubted it was anything illegal, or particularly dangerous – this was Amy Rose they were talking about after all, and for as peculiar as she was, she was a good kid at heart. All the same...

'Morally grey'... Espio did not like the sound of that.

But it would appear Vector's mind was made up, and Espio knew better than to argue. He might as well give up now and save himself the energy – he'd probably need all his stamina for damage control anyway.

"I want it noted that I was against this from the start," he said eventually, defeated.

"Duly noted." Vector didn't even glance at him. He suspected 'noted' was the only word his colleague had even heard.

Why do I bother?

Several minutes passed in relative peace, with the only sounds being the buzzing of Charmy's wings and the 'ting, ting, ting' as Vector counted Amy's deposit.

"Are you going to read Amy's missive?" he asked at last, striving with every ounce of discipline he possessed to remain calm. "If you insist on playing along with this farce, shouldn't you at least find out what she wants from us?"

"Oh. Heh, yeah, that..." Vector chuckled, picking up the envelope that had, until now, been left forgotten beside the bag of rings.

He tore it open and read through the (pink...) contents quickly, eyes scanning the page several times, taking a great deal more time than was really justified for the scant half-filled sheet.

Espio had to admit, he felt a particular kind of satisfaction as he watched the crocodile's face turn a shade of green it had hitherto never achieved before.

"What's it say?" Charmy demanded, trying to read over Vector's broad shoulder.

Vector didn't say anything. Instead, he handed the letter to Espio wordlessly, who read the girlish script just once before handing it back.

"I warned you," was all he said. "I told you I had a bad feeling about this job."