It was just after dawn when Gimli got into his car. He threw the file he'd stolen from the EBI agent onto his passenger seat and decided to put on his gloves. Dale got cold in the mornings, even when the weather was good. He was tired, short-tempered and grumpy. Driving over the bridge and heading into Erebor, then getting back into the city, then trying to get some dinner and wrap his head around the Necromancer case, then trying to get some sleep while the captain kept leaving accusatory messages on his answering machine. He was exhausted.

It didn't improve matters when he saw a familiar silver-white sedan pull into the space behind him.

He rolled down his window and stuck his head out. Legolas was getting out of his car, and he looked angry.

"Are you stalking me?" Gimli called, "Because that's unsettling."

Legolas shushed him, looking around with suspicious eyes, and hurried over.

"I specifically told you to stay away from this case."

"So?"

"So what are you doing right next to one of the corners that Grima Wormtongue likes to sell drugs on?"

Gimli looked at the corner in question and nodded. Then he pointed to the apartment building he was parked alongside.

"I live here."

It was an old, narrow building. It still had the marks of dragon claws etched into the stone by the roof. Most of the windows had boards on them, to cover up where the glass was broken. Legolas chuckled softly. He was tired of falling for every trick Gimli tried to play on him, and he would not fall for this. He raised an eyebrow at the Dwarf and tilted his head to one side.

"You're hilarious. That's very funny," he said snidely. "But do you know what's not funny? Stealing a confidential EBI case file."

"I don't remember doing that. I think you must've just dropped it some place."

"It's on the seat right next to you."

"No. No it's not."

Legolas squared his shoulders and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. He started scrolling through his contacts.

"I'm calling the Director. Of the EBI." He said, walking a few feet away for the sake of privacy.

"Oh aye? You go ahead, tattle-tits!" Gimli called after him.

It rang three times, and instead of answering with a more conventional greeting, Arwen said:

"This better be the phone call where you tell me that you've destroyed the Necromancer's base of power, he's in custody of the Dale Department of Justice or the Dale PD, and you're planning to return to Rivendell triumphant and better for this experience. Maybe with a small cask of jewels as thanks for your service."

Knowing that Gimli was trying to listen in, Legolas didn't feel he could respond to this statement directly, and so he said what he originally intended to say.

"I'm going to need authorization to suspend a member of the local authorities from this case."

"Is working with local authorities a problem for you, Greenleaf?" Arwen asked.

"It's not. It's just that this particular officer is a mentally unstable Dwarf, and you can see how that might do us more harm than good."

"Captain Brand informed me of your little scuffle with Detective Gloinson, and the captain assures me that Gloinson is a smart and capable officer. He helped rebuild Dale, brick by brick, as part of the Dwarven volunteer group. He knows that city, and that's an asset to your investigation." She sighed, "You need to show me that you can do this, that you can be cooperative and sociable in the name of the greater good. This is a test, Agent Greenleaf. You have to pass it, and pass it alone, or you will not get the promotion."

"Director Evenstar—"

"Work with the Dwarf." Arwen said sternly, right before hanging up.

Legolas strolled a little closer to the car, still talking into the phone and trying to save some face.

"No need to take someone's badge. That sounds a bit extreme. I'm sure I can work something out with him, he has good knowledge of the area and that's an asset. I'm going to try and smooth things out, I'd hate to see the poor fellow suspended. He doesn't seem to have much outside of his job. I'll keep you updated, Director Evenstar. Goodbye."

Legolas put his phone away, and stood in an awkward silence.

"Are you trying to stake-out Grima?" Gimli asked.

"You know that I am."

"Then you'd better get in." He pulled everything off the front seat and threw it sloppily into the back.

"Why would I—"

"Make it quick, you look like the Prince of the Cops standing out there. And, just so you know, your car's probably going to be vandalized."

Begrudgingly, Legolas got in. It was a tight squeeze in terms of his height, and he was certain he was going to wind up with a neck cramp, until Gimli pulled a lever that lowered the seat. Legolas felt like he was sitting on the floor of a go-kart, but it was more comfortable and he could still see out of the windshield alright.

"My car already was vandalized," Legolas grumbled. "Somebody threw garbage into it."

"Oh no. That is awful."

"Greasy food wrappers and some kind of… cake. It was everywhere. It took me an hour to clean it up, and the smell's still not gone. It's in my nostrils. Even your car smells of it."

Gimli pulled around the block and parked along the inside of an alley full of shadows, and with a fine view of the corner in question, and shook with silent laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Dwarven humor." He pulled himself together, "Alright, so the file says that Grima sells here, but he doesn't. I think he lives in that shithole of a building right across from us, and they don't sell where they live in this town. Still, if you want to find him you probably picked the right place. You know what he looks like?"

"I have a tip on his appearance, yes."

"He's a creepy piece of shit."

"That seems to be the consensus."

They waited in a semi-awkward silence, watching people come and go along the street as the day went on. It was almost lunchtime when they saw two figures walk out of their target building. The first was a burly man dressed in worker's clothes and a pair of worn-down boots. The second was Grima Wormtongue, and all of the air around him turned vile as he walked through it.

"There he is!" Legolas pointed.

"Which one?" Gimli asked, just for fun.

"What do you mean which one?!"

"There are two guys. Which guy are we going after?" He started the car and slowly pulled out.

"That one! The one that is clearly Grima Wormtongue!"

"Which one is clearly Grima Wormtongue?!"

"The creepy piece of shit who ain't got no fucking eyebrows!" Legolas shouted.

Gimli chuckled.

"Alright, then. I'm warning you because I don't want you to be a whiny little dick about this: I'm going to hit him with the car."

A/N: Hooray! Thanks everybody for all of the lovely reviews I've been getting, I'm sorry I've been so lazy about replying, it's the holidays and I've been in a food coma. The good news is that I intend to write this one until it's finished. The bad news is updates will be inconsistent for the next little while, because my birthday (which means my twin brother's birthday as well) and New Year's are coming up.