Thanks to everyone who read and to Scififan33 for reviewing.
An old warehouse that regularly flooded wasn't a great place to be taking any deep breaths and Roddy knew it—hello, dust and mold and obnoxious amounts of sneezing that would put paid to any attempt to be quiet—but his ears agreed that something way too heavy to be a river rat was wandering around one of the levels below him. And it was too early for either Sammy to be back or any rave attendees to have shown up, the last if only because Sammy wouldn't have sent the text yet. He made sure to keep his own steps light as he made his way to the staircase.
Odds were that it was just some rando, the stretch of warehouses on this side of the street were by description abandoned and it wasn't uncommon for people to pass through even if they didn't tend to hang around, but Roddy wasn't a big fan of strangers in general and given a choice would just as soon stay out of sight. Especially since turntables were pretty damn pawnable when it came down to it.
He slipped around the corner and took a cautious glance downward over the broken wall passing as a balcony before mentally running through every four-letter word he knew. He took it all back, he'd totally prefer some stranger right now.
Roddy wasn't actually sure what skills a Grimm had outside of head-chopping, but Detective Grimm swiveled towards him almost immediately, and he pulled himself back around the corner. On a list of things he did not need.
Unfortunately he heard footfalls headed for the stairs only a moment later, and he considered his options. Running was the obvious one, grab his backpack and go and he'd bet against himself against pretty much anyone in a race through the building considering that he'd been wandering in and out since he was a kid. But that still left the turntable behind, and Detective Grimm wasn't likely to have forgotten that he'd DJ'd here before.
"You again?"
Roddy whipped around, because fuck. He'd been paying so much attention to Detective Grimm's footsteps that he'd forgotten that Detective Grimm didn't work alone. This was Detective Some-kind-of-bird, he thought, a little taller than heavier than Detective Grimm, and he must have come up the back staircase while Roddy's attention was on his way more terrifying partner. "Hey, Detective," he said with a sigh.
"Do I even want to ask what you're doing here?" Detective Grimm asked with an echoing sigh, coming up behind Roddy.
Roddy glanced back over his shoulder. "Probably not."
Detective Grimm gave him a vaguely annoyed look, and the other detective—not a bird, it was Griffin—snorted. "You asked."
Roddy didn't really like having either of them at his back, and he shifted position until he could keep an eye on both of them without requiring too much contortion.
Detective Grimm, at least, seemed okay with that as he moved towards his partner. "Let me rephrase that. What are you doing here?"
"Sammy said I could use his equipment to lay down some new tracks."
That got him two distinctly skeptical looks.
"What? I spin, it's a hobby." He gestured vaguely in the direction of the turntable. "Do you want to hear them?"
"Let's save that for later," Detective Grimm said. "How long have you been here?"
"Uh...what time is it?" From what he could see out the window behind them it looked like the sun might be finally starting to sink, but in the summer that didn't mean a lot since it was nowhere near dark out.
Detective Griffin pushed up his sleeve and checked his watch. "A little after seven."
"Sammy and I met up around four-thirty or so, so I guess about three hours."
"Has anyone else been through?"
"Not that I've noticed, but I haven't really been looking."
"You're sure?" Detective Grimm pressed. "You haven't heard anyone? Or maybe he mentioned seeing someone?"
"Sammy? Nah. He got here the same time I did," or technically a little after since Roddy had shown up at four in the hopes that Sammy would split the difference, "and didn't say anything about anything. And you guys are the first people I've seen or heard since he left. Why?"
They exchanged glances, and it was pretty obvious that if he got any kind of explanation it wasn't going to be anything like complete. "We got a tip about someone we wanted to talk to being down in this area this morning," Detective Griffin said. "There's a good chance they're long gone now, but we had to check it out."
"Well, for sure they're not in this building," Roddy said. So the nice detectives could just move along, and no one ever had to think about this again. In fact, they could forget they'd ever seen him. Happy days for everyone.
Unfortunately instead of taking the hint, Detective Grimm crossed his arms over his chest and focused on Roddy, and it was pretty obvious that he didn't plan on forgetting anything. "You don't need to be here, either, and you know it."
"What? I'm just spinning. Would you rather I was playing in the street?" The words were out of his mouth before he could think better of it, and he dropped his eyes immediately because what the hell was wrong with him? He'd smarted back at Monroe the other day too, and even if Monroe had only chuckled and given as good as he'd gotten, Roddy really needed to stop letting his mouth get ahead of him when around predators who could squish him like a bug. And a Grimm most definitely counted.
"I'd rather you acted like the reasonably intelligent eighteen year old you are," Detective Grimm said pointedly. "I find it hard to believe that this is the only place where your friend will let you use his equipment."
Because no one in his right mind would believe that, and Roddy kept his mouth shut.
"And if a patrol officer happens to pass by here in a couple hours there won't be anything happening then either?" Detective Griffin asked.
"Didn't you just say you were trying to find someone who's not me?"
"Turns out we're excellent multitaskers," Detective Grimm said. "And you don't need to be hosting any more raves."
"Especially with rats," Detective Griffin muttered.
"I'm not hosting anything," Roddy said. "I swear." He was even telling the truth, as it happened, because the planning part was all on Sammy. He just showed up and played his music. With no summoning of any rats.
The two detectives looked at each other again.
"Look, you want me to leave?" Roddy asked after a minute. "Fine. I'll leave." He wouldn't stay gone, but he could find somewhere to hide out until they were gone. It'd be at least another hour until Sammy got back, and while he'd rather spend it working on some more music, better he sit down and shut up somewhere than encourage any police officers—or worse a specific police detective—to make a casual visit tonight.
Neither of them looked like they believed him, but they did accompany him back to the turntable, and Roddy was just as glad that his mask was hidden in its usual nondescript container and shoved mostly under a dusty sheet of canvas as he packed the electrical equipment up. Even if they were perfectly right not to believe him, there was no sense rubbing their faces in it.
"How can you eat that much frosting?" Monroe asked. "My teeth are hurting."
Roddy grinned and downed the last bite of his raspberry Danish and then licked the remaining frosting from his fingers. "It's good."
"Your dentist must love you."
Roddy shrugged. He couldn't actually remember the last time he'd been to a dentist, but whatever.
"Nick said that he ran into you the other day," Monroe said after a minute, tossing him a napkin.
For lack of anything else to do, Roddy shrugged again as he scrubbed at his fingers. He'd done like Detectives Grimm and Griffin had wanted, left the warehouse with Sammy's gear—Sammy's fucking heavy gear—but he'd only stayed gone about half an hour. Long enough to listen to their car disappearing off into the distance and ensure that they weren't planning to double back.
And Sammy had been way less concerned about the drop-by than Roddy had expected. Not that he'd been thrilled about policemen who knew his name being in the neighborhood, but his raves were generally clean, and even if officers did decide to swing by it wouldn't be the kind of bust that he—he or Roddy for that matter—wouldn't be able to escape if they needed to given that they knew the warehouses better than any of the attendees ever would. Well, it might be different for Roddy if Detective Grimm was involved, not that he could explain that to the entirely-human Sammy, but based on past experience any uniformed officer who showed would shove his way in, scare off the kids, and unless someone was really obviously hammered that would be the end of it.
"You know you don't need to be getting into trouble your senior year of school, right?" Monroe said seriously. "Especially since you're legally an adult."
Roddy sighed, giving up on trying to scrub the stickiness from his fingers with dry paper, and went to rinse his hands in the sink properly. "I'm not getting into trouble."
Monroe gave him a look that said that he wasn't convinced.
"I'm not," Roddy repeated. BS'ing Monroe never seemed to go very well for him so his answer was as honest as he could make it. "I DJ sometimes when I need cash, yeah, but I'm not getting into anything else, and I'm not doing anything for anyone who does." Not knowingly, at least. He'd gotten burned a few times before he'd learned what to look out for, but that was just life.
"Your dad is okay with that?"
Roddy scoffed despite himself. "Dad won't even let me get a summer job at the gas station down the road, so what do you think?"
This time Monroe was the one who sighed. "Just promise that you'll be careful. Okay?"
"Swear," Roddy agreed. He was just as happy to avoid any and all trouble himself, thanks.
That got a nod, and then Monroe rinsed his hands quickly as well and then curled an arm around Roddy's shoulder. "Come on, let's see if we can sort out the bowings that are giving you trouble."
