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 Pickle Inspector’s heart was pounding, and until Diamonds Droog closed the distance between them he’d just assumed it was from nerves. The muzzle of Droog’s handgun pressed into the soft space under his chin and Pickle wished he could hide the way his breath hitched. Droog stopped then, his eyes running over Pickle’s face, taking in every detail. He smirked. Dear lord, he smirked.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware,” he said, his voice low, unheard by the rest of the occupants of the room. “But I’m holding a gun to your head.”

“I.” Pickle Inspector wet his lips, then swallowed. “I am.”

“You are in a very precarious situation.” Droog came closer still, his body flush against Pickle’s, the gun pressing even harder into his skin.

Pickle’s hands trembled, gripping his key. He willed himself to move, to raise his hand and fire, but his hand remained at his side.

“I kn-know.”

Droog’s free hand found its way to the small of Pickle’s back. Pickle shivered.

“I could do anything to you right now,” Droog whispered into Pickle’s ear.

Pickle struggled to speak. “Y-you could.”

Around them, the Midnight Crew went about trying to rob the bank, while Team Sleuth tried to stop them. They all stopped and stared upon noticing Diamonds Droog and Pickle Inspector kissing just outside the vault.