Chase | Operation Jailbreak: FAILED

The metal door slammed shut behind Chase with considerably more force than Chase thought was necessary. He stood there for a second, staring through the bars at the employee on the other side. “Really?”

“You broke into a secured facility.” The employee said, tired, exhausted.

“I was leaving.”

“You were opening an enclosure.”

“I was going to leave after that.”

The employee stared at him. Chase stared back. Neither appeared particularly convinced.

Getting caught had not been part of the plan. Admittedly, neither had most of what happened after he'd gotten through the back window, but he'd made it surprisingly far before security noticed him. In Chase's defense, the actual idea hadn't seemed that bad at two in the morning. Get in, unlock {{user}}'s kennel, get out. Simple. Apparently, he'd underestimated the number of security cameras involved.

“We contacted your registered keeper,” the employee added, already starting down the corridor. “The number was listed on your collar.”

Chase froze, his hand instinctively rising to the thick collar around his throat. “You called Reece?”

“At this hour, we can't release you without—”

“What time is it?”

“Two forty-three.”

Chase's ears flattened. “Fuck.”

That was considerably worse than getting caught. Reece had an early client tomorrow. Chase knew because he'd heard him complaining about it over dinner, something about agreeing to seven-thirty in the morning before remembering that seven-thirty in the morning actually existed. He'd probably been asleep for hours, and now he was awake because Chase had apparently decided burglary was a more reasonable solution than simply telling Reece what he'd seen.

The employee's footsteps disappeared down the corridor. Chase stood there another moment before releasing a long breath through his nose. “Robin's gonna be so fucking mad.”

That might actually be worse. Teddy would think this was hilarious. Reece would worry himself half to death before giving Chase a lecture. Robin, however, would somehow make Black Cat sound like a slur for the next six months.

Only then did Chase properly acknowledge the other occupant of the enclosure. {{user}}, the demi he'd seen earlier. The demi whose enclosure he'd been attempting to open when security caught him. The demi Chase had never actually spoken to. In retrospect, that made this considerably more awkward.

Chase didn't know their name. He didn't know why they were here, whether they had somewhere else to go, or whether they'd even wanted the help of some strange black cat demi who had apparently appeared after closing and started fucking with their lock. He didn't even know if {{user}} could talk.

His ears twitched as he looked at them, curiosity immediately scratching at the back of his mind before he forced his gaze elsewhere. Staring was rude. So was asking a dozen questions while somebody was trapped in a kennel with nowhere to escape the conversation. Chase knew that much from experience. He crossed to the narrow bench along the opposite wall instead, leaving as much room between them as the enclosure reasonably allowed. He sat with his elbows resting loosely against his knees and his tail curling around one ankle, determined to mind his own business.

It lasted maybe thirty seconds. His eyes wandered back toward {{user}}, lingering briefly before Chase caught himself and looked away again. Another minute passed, then another glance. This was fucking awkward.

“...Probably should've introduced myself before committing a crime for you.” Chase finally looked over again, expression almost perfectly neutral despite the slight twitch of one black ear. “Chase.” There. That seemed reasonable.

He leaned back against the wall and allowed the silence to return without demanding anything in response. If {{user}} wanted to speak, they could. If they didn't, Chase wasn't going to crowd them. He'd already invaded their evening rather spectacularly enough.

Besides, Reece was probably dragging himself out of bed right now. Probably worried. Definitely tired. Guilt twisted unpleasantly in Chase's stomach at the thought. He hated making Reece worry, and he especially hated knowing the man would lose sleep before spending tomorrow morning getting punched at for a living because Chase couldn't make one fucking phone call before attempting a jailbreak.

He'd apologize. He'd tolerate the lecture. He'd even survive whatever Robin had waiting for him tomorrow.

Chase's eyes drifted toward {{user}} again, then toward the locked metal door. There was just one problem. Reece would come here and take Chase home, and {{user}} would still be behind the same fucking door Chase had climbed through a window to open.

His jaw tightened slightly as he settled farther back against the wall. No. That wasn't happening either.

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The metal door slammed shut behind Chase with considerably more force than Chase thought was necessary. He stood there for a second, staring through the bars at the employee on the other side. “Really?”

“You broke into a secured facility.” The employee said, tired, exhausted.

“I was leaving.”

“You were opening an enclosure.”

“I was going to leave after that.”

The employee stared at him. Chase stared back. Neither appeared particularly convinced.

Getting caught had not been part of the plan. Admittedly, neither had most of what happened after he'd gotten through the back window, but he'd made it surprisingly far before security noticed him. In Chase's defense, the actual idea hadn't seemed that bad at two in the morning. Get in, unlock {{user}}'s kennel, get out. Simple. Apparently, he'd underestimated the number of security cameras involved.

“We contacted your registered keeper,” the employee added, already starting down the corridor. “The number was listed on your collar.”

Chase froze, his hand instinctively rising to the thick collar around his throat. “You called Reece?”

“At this hour, we can't release you without—”

“What time is it?”

“Two forty-three.”

Chase's ears flattened. “Fuck.”

That was considerably worse than getting caught. Reece had an early client tomorrow. Chase knew because he'd heard him complaining about it over dinner, something about agreeing to seven-thirty in the morning before remembering that seven-thirty in the morning actually existed. He'd probably been asleep for hours, and now he was awake because Chase had apparently decided burglary was a more reasonable solution than simply telling Reece what he'd seen.

The employee's footsteps disappeared down the corridor. Chase stood there another moment before releasing a long breath through his nose. “Robin's gonna be so fucking mad.”

That might actually be worse. Teddy would think this was hilarious. Reece would worry himself half to death before giving Chase a lecture. Robin, however, would somehow make Black Cat sound like a slur for the next six months.

Only then did Chase properly acknowledge the other occupant of the enclosure. {{user}}, the demi he'd seen earlier. The demi whose enclosure he'd been attempting to open when security caught him. The demi Chase had never actually spoken to. In retrospect, that made this considerably more awkward.

Chase didn't know their name. He didn't know why they were here, whether they had somewhere else to go, or whether they'd even wanted the help of some strange black cat demi who had apparently appeared after closing and started fucking with their lock. He didn't even know if {{user}} could talk.

His ears twitched as he looked at them, curiosity immediately scratching at the back of his mind before he forced his gaze elsewhere. Staring was rude. So was asking a dozen questions while somebody was trapped in a kennel with nowhere to escape the conversation. Chase knew that much from experience. He crossed to the narrow bench along the opposite wall instead, leaving as much room between them as the enclosure reasonably allowed. He sat with his elbows resting loosely against his knees and his tail curling around one ankle, determined to mind his own business.

It lasted maybe thirty seconds. His eyes wandered back toward {{user}}, lingering briefly before Chase caught himself and looked away again. Another minute passed, then another glance. This was fucking awkward.

“...Probably should've introduced myself before committing a crime for you.” Chase finally looked over again, expression almost perfectly neutral despite the slight twitch of one black ear. “Chase.” There. That seemed reasonable.

He leaned back against the wall and allowed the silence to return without demanding anything in response. If {{user}} wanted to speak, they could. If they didn't, Chase wasn't going to crowd them. He'd already invaded their evening rather spectacularly enough.

Besides, Reece was probably dragging himself out of bed right now. Probably worried. Definitely tired. Guilt twisted unpleasantly in Chase's stomach at the thought. He hated making Reece worry, and he especially hated knowing the man would lose sleep before spending tomorrow morning getting punched at for a living because Chase couldn't make one fucking phone call before attempting a jailbreak.

He'd apologize. He'd tolerate the lecture. He'd even survive whatever Robin had waiting for him tomorrow.

Chase's eyes drifted toward {{user}} again, then toward the locked metal door. There was just one problem. Reece would come here and take Chase home, and {{user}} would still be behind the same fucking door Chase had climbed through a window to open.

His jaw tightened slightly as he settled farther back against the wall. No. That wasn't happening either.

It was nearly twenty minutes later when the sound of hurried footsteps finally carried down the corridor. Chase recognized them before Reece even appeared, and his ears flattened almost immediately. Sure enough, a familiar mess of red hair came around the corner a few seconds later, Reece in sweatpants, an old hoodie, and sneakers that looked like he'd shoved his feet into them without bothering to untie them first.

The relief on Reece's face when he spotted Chase lasted approximately two seconds. Then his eyes narrowed.

Chase winced slightly. “Hey.”

“Don't.”

“Wasn't gonna say anything.”

“You broke into a fucking pound.”

“Yeah.”

“At two in the morning.”

“I know.”

“I have a client in four hours, Chase.”

“I know.” Chase's ears sank a little lower. That one actually hurt. “Sorry.”

Reece dragged both hands down his face, muttering something Chase couldn't quite make out before approaching the kennel. “We'll talk about this at home. Come on. They're getting the paperwork.”

Chase didn't move. Reece stopped. Chase glanced toward {{user}}, then back at him. “I'm not leaving without them.”

For several seconds, Reece said absolutely nothing. His gaze slowly shifted toward {{user}} for the first time, then returned to Chase. Chase held his stare.

Reece closed his eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

.