Chapter Text
The office they share is surprisingly silent, a rarity for Private Investigators Gautier & Fraldarius. It never stays that way for long. The only warning Felix gets is the sound of plastic hitting wood before Sylvain throws a tiny basketball at him. It hits the back of his head, gently, then falls behind his chair. Felix snaps his pencil in two. The miniature hoop attached to the door stares back at him mockingly. He knew he should have never let him put that in the office.
“I’ve got a case.”
Every time Sylvain finds a case on his own, it goes horribly wrong in some way. He’s not sure how Sylvain manages to find only the worst of jobs for them. Is it a talent? Some kind of twisted luck?
“We’ll get to stay at a resort, all expenses paid, for two weeks.”
Maybe Sylvain’s not all bad.
“It’s a couples resort-“
Sylvain’s dead to him.
“What’s the case,” he growls, spinning in his chair, picking up the ball from where it fell. Sylvain gestures to the hoop encouragingly. Felix nails him in the face. Three pointer.
“Owww,” Sylvain says, which is not an answer, “So, you know the Lover’s Lake Murders?”
“Yes,” if only because of the stupid name. And how often it’s been shown on the news. “But I’m not sure how it relates to us. We’re private investigators. We don’t hunt serial killers.”
“Well, lucky for us, we’re not hunting, Felix. We’re investigating.”
“If you continue to say nothing of use, I’m refusing the case.”
“Okay! So, turns out, the owner of Mary’s Magical Manse of Marriage,”
“What,”
“Yeah, I know, it’s an even stupider name, I feel marriage really blocks off some of their potential clientele, it’s bad business practice- anyways, so, Mary herself called. A lot of prospective couples go there. In hopes of like, bringing them closer together or whatever. Turns out, both couples that were murdered? Stayed there at one point.”
“Has she not contacted the police?”
“She doesn’t want the bad press, apparently. She wants us to investigate and rule out the connection that it might be one of her employees.”
“So, how does this mean ‘resort stay.’”
“Well, the idea is, we’ll pose as a couple. And stay there for two weeks. She doesn’t want the staff to know we’re investigating them either, just in case.”
“This is a terrible idea. There are no redeeming qualities to this whatsoever.”
“Well, we get paid for this terrible idea, so that’s like one quality. And don’t you want to help solve a serial killing? Rub it into the police’s face? Isn’t Dimitri heading the investigation-“
Felix fixes Sylvain with deadliest stare he can muster. Sadly, he continues to live. But fuck, he does want to solve a high level case. Investigating infidelity and doing background checks aren’t rewarding, not like how this would be. And if he can spite Dimitri.... Sylvain knows him far too well. “Fine. We’ll do it. But when this goes to shit, I just want you to remember: I told you so. When do we take the job?”
“Oh, I already agreed: It was time sensitive. Next week, we’re going on a resort!”
Felix is struck silent. Sylvain takes this as an opportunity to keep talking.
“So, we’ll need to iron out the details of our backstory. When we started dating, first date, how good I am in bed, you know, couple stuff.”
“Why don’t we tell the truth?”
“What.”
“What?”
“We started this office as partners three years ago. It’s less trouble to remember if we stick to facts.”
“Oh- Oh!” Sylvain resumes breathing. Odd. Felix hadn’t been able to tell he’d been holding his breath. “Yeah. You’re so right Felix. But still, there’s some stuff we have to agree on. Where was our first date?”
“Tch. The crepe shop across the street. We went there after we opened the office. If you think too much about this, you’ll lose focus on the fact that this is a job. We’re working.”
“We’re working, but with like, benefits. I’ve checked online. There are massages. And it’s at a beach. Felix- you’ll be able to relax!”
The look on Felix’s face tells Sylvain exactly what he thinks about that idea.
“Free food, free drinks, spiting Dimitri, what more must I offer you? You’re already getting my body for two weeks.”
“You can offer me the case details.”
Sylvain sighs, then goes to pull up the information.
It’s a little more complicated than it appears. The Manse of Marriage offers an exclusive one-week package that goes through most of the activities. There’s an itinerary, even, which Sylvain finds delightful and awful in equal parts. “There’s teatime built in to the schedule. Who’s the audience for this?”
They’ll need to participate in all activities, as they’re headed by different staff members. Once they have an initial profile, they’ll be able to look into them more deeply. The staff consists of fifteen people. There will be a total of twelve guests- Felix looked at the prices and immediately wondered who on earth would pay for this. Unfortunately, they don’t have access to the guest list.
They’ll get a staff key, and with it, permission from the owner to look around the resort. Their instructions on discovery are simple: if caught, play to their cover story. They’re simply guests who got lost.
Felix puts down the case files, frowning. “Sylvain. Are we supposed to be married?”
“Do you want to get married? I don’t think it should be too much of an issue.”
“It is a-” he refuses to say the name, on principle, “The word marriage is in the title. If we are not married, then why are we here? If there is a connection between the staff and the murders, then we want to have an airtight cover story.”
“Marriage means we have to get rings too,” Sylvain says, extending his hands and looking at his fingers.
Felix frowns, “It’ll be more difficult to lie about. We can stay with dating.”
“Dating it is then. I think we’ll have a great time!”
---
Felix and Sylvain are sitting in the back of a boat. More accurately, Sylvain is sitting in the back of the boat, and Felix is sulking. Sylvain’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt a size too small and board shorts that leave little to the imagination. He has taken ‘dressing the part’ a bit too far. Meanwhile, Felix is wearing what might be called a ‘shirt’ in some parts of the world, but would be called ‘ugly’ in others.
They’re alone on the boat, waiting for the other couple.
“I bet it’s those two.” Sylvain says, as he has been whenever he spots two people walking together. Felix stopped listening when he saw his mouth open.
“Is that- Felix, Felix look-” he’s elbowed, rudely, but he does glance up. Sylvain’s gaze is directed at a pair of men. One stands tall, his gait dripping with arrogance, white shoes and white shades and an outfit that looks as stiff than his attitude. His hair is a vibrant, eye-catching purple.
Where the first has been a picture-perfect priss, the second slouches with an air of ease, shirt unbuttoned and hair mussed, and he laughs in a way that makes you think, this is someone I want to be around.
He’s wearing the exact same Hawaiian shirt as Sylvain.
Oh fuck no.
“Can’t stand your double? Seeing how bad your style is when you’re not impressed with yourself in a mirror?”
“No, fuck- that’s Claude, Prince of Almyra!”
“Hmm.” Felix considers this. He’s not too interested in politics- or following the royal family. Those were things his father had been passionate for. He, decidedly, is not. “Alright.”
Sylvain’s right about two things. It is, in fact, the couple they’ve been waiting for. And they hear, very loudly, the purple-haired man say, “Claude, are you quite sure about this? I understand you wish to experience the ‘whole package’ as you say, but surely there is another way to arrive without the boat.”
Claude does not respond, because he notices Sylvain, who notices him. “Nice shirt,” he says, broad grin lighting up a handsome face. It reminds Felix a little bit of how Sylvain smiles when he’s truly amused. Felix looks away, because he does not want to see this.
“Nice shirt,” Sylvain says, standing and offering his hand with a grin, “You know, I think I might have one just like it.”
Claude laughs, shaking his hand before taking the seat in front of them. “Claude. And this is my partner.”
“My name is Lorenz Hellman Gloucester. You will want to remember that. After all, we will be venturing out on this excursion together. I have been informed that there will be communal lunches.”
Felix has been trying to forget that.
“I’m Sylvain, and this is my boyfriend, Felix.” Sylvain settles a hand on his shoulder, pulling him close. Felix swallows and resolutely does not say anything. This close, he can smell Sylvain’s cologne. This close, he can feel the heat of the other’s body. His body is traitorous, blushing, but at least it sells the act.
“Oh, boyfriends? I do suppose the Manse takes all types. Marriage is not a necessity. How long have you two been together?”
Sylvain’s grin flickers, just a little bit, and Felix frowns. Lorenz speaks arrogantly. He wonders if it reminds Sylvain of his family. But his friend simply squeezes his shoulder, just a little. “Three years. Our fourth anniversary is coming up, actually. It’s why we wanted to take a trip. It’s why I chose this place, actually. It promises a long-lasting love for the devoted couple- and that’s what I want for Felix and I.”
“Lorenz, you know Hilda’s coming on this too - and she’s not married. Excuse him, I’m glad to hear it,” Claude interjects warmly, “And congrats on the anniversary. Remind me to buy you both a drink at the resort.”
“It’s all inclusive,” Felix frowns, “You won’t be buying any drinks. Don’t cheapen your words.”
The other man laughs, leaning back against Lorenz. They’re casual with each other, Felix thinks, and though Lorenz’s expression doesn’t change, he relaxes into Claude’s body. It’s disgustingly romantic. “Ah, Felix, haven’t you heard? Talk’s cheap, but with enough, I’ll buy the world. It’s great to meet you two. And Sylvain, we’ll have to exchange clothing tips. I’m loving your outfit.”
Each pair returns to their own conversations for a moment. Sylvain takes the chance to lean in. “Didn’t you hear? Claude loved my outfit. Told you I had a sense of style.”
Their boat is the last to arrive, but not by much. It’s a gorgeous island, lush and verdant. Turquoise water stretches up to meet spotless sand. It looks untouched, a little slice of paradise just for them. The resort sprawls out in between the trees, greeting them with a dark wooden dock. Two boats sit there already, rocking gently on the waves. One is empty, the other is letting loose its guests as their own boat docks.
Claude is leaning forward over the rail, hands cupped around his mouth as he calls out, “Hilda!”
A pink-haired girl looks up, waving grandly in response. Sylvain doesn’t recognize her, and neither does Felix, which is expected. But they both recognize the second.
They almost knock heads as they duck down below their seat.
“Felix,” Sylvain hisses, “Is that Ingrid?”
Sylvain crains his head back up. It is, in fact, Ingrid. She’s not dressed for the beach, not like they are, but her wide-brimmed hat seems incongruous with what they normally associate with her. “It is Ingrid. What’s she doing here?”
“She knows we’re not dating,” Felix says, frowning deeply, “And she’s likely to call us out for it.”
“What are we supposed to tell her? We’re posing as a couple to investigate a murder? I don’t think there’s any danger here, like, no one’s going to get stabbed or anything, but…”
“If she acts differently, she might set off the staff. We will have to tell her something.”
“Partial truth, just like you said. We say we’re here investigating the management for a civil case, and we need to be discreet.”
“What in heaven's name are you two doing down there?” A cold, high voice calls. Sylvain and Felix look up, nearly headbutting each other in their hurry.
Lorenz peers down at them, and Claude turns back as well.
What are they supposed to say, that they’re discussing how to bring their friend in on their fake relationship established in order to investigate the possibility of a serial killer, or how to best get away with lying about it? Sylvain meets Felix’s eyes.
“Is it a sex thing?” Claude raises an eyebrow. Lorenz raises two and his entire hairline moves with them. Sylvian tries not to stare.
Oh god, is it easier to just agree?
“Yes.” Felix says, “We’re just getting off. The boat.”
Sylvain has never expected Felix to say anything reasonable in his life. He wonders why he thought it would start today.
“He’s kidding, what he means is that we just wanted to take a few moments to ourselves before we got off onto the island. You know.”
“No I do not,” says Lorenz, “But I suppose every couple has its quirks. Come, Claude. Let us join Hilda and her companion.”
“You two will have to get off the boat some time,” Claude winks, “You should try to put yourselves together before the staff comes to escort you off.” He leaves with Felix’s glare following him out.
“Wow, he totally thinks we’re going to try and get it on before we get it off.”
“Sylvain,” Felix says, like he wasn’t the one who basically instigated this whole conversation.
“Felix,” he mimics and gets a smack for the trouble. “Hey!”
“Get off the boat. Ingrid and the rest are walking away. We’ll tell her that we’re investigating a civil case for the island, which we are, and that she needs to agree that we’ve been dating for three years now. Understand me? I won’t hear another word from you. Nod.”
Sylvain nods. They get up, this time without nearly smacking into each other. One of the well-dressed staff members comes to greet them, giving them a bow, a ‘welcome to the island’, their room keys, and an itinerary bound in wooden paneling.
They take the path to their rooms, a trail of stone and vibrant plant-life lining the way.
“So, what are we going to do about Ingrid?”
“What are you going to do about m- Felix! Sylvain!? What are you two doing here? This is a couples resort!”
“Ingrid, I can’t believe you never introduced us to your new girlfriend! It’s been-”
“Three months,” she colors, but it does not distract her from her fury, “Don’t change the subject. You two are here at a Manse of Marriage. How- This. You didn’t get married, did you?” Ingrid says this like it is a plausible option for the two of them. “You didn’t tell the rest of us? You two are the most self-centered- We care about what’s going on in your lives!”
Ingrid’s on her way to a full-scale yell, so Sylvain very smartly covers her mouth with his hand. Like an untamable creature, Ingrid goes to bite his palm.
“Shh! We’ll tell you everything,” Sylvain says, shaking his hand free of her teeth. He frowns at the bite marks.
“You have thirty seconds, begin. Now.”
“Has anyone told you you’re not very nice when you’re angry? Ow ow- I’m starting!” Sylvain hobbles on his non-stomped foot, moving back to the safety of Felix. “Okay, okay. We’re conducting a civil investigation for the owner of this place. We can’t tell you too much more, but she wants us to be discreet about it. We’re incognito.
“Incognito,” she says, flatly.
“Incognito,” he nods, wisely. “Undercover. Like spies.”
“I know what it means, Sylvain. So, you two are... “
“We’re dating. For two weeks.” The look she gives them is unreadable. It flickers between the two of them, searching for something. The truth? He can’t tell, but whatever she’s looking for, she doesn’t find.
Ingrid shakes her head, “Fine. Fine. I’m going to have a nice retreat with my girlfriend-”
“Tell me about her,” Sylvain says, “I mean, you haven’t, not really - just that you’ve been dating her, and how nice and sweet she is. But I haven’t met her yet - we didn’t even get her name! Three whole months, and you’ve neglected us. Ingrid, how long have we known you?”
Ingrid’s palm meets the top of his head. “I’m leaving. I’ll text you two. Unfortunately, it’s likely we’ll meet in some of the planned activities. Have you two even looked at the itinerary? No, don’t answer. Walking away.” She gets a few steps before she turns back, a fond smile crossing her face, “It will be… nice for you two to meet Hilda. But later. When you’re not undercover.”
When the two of them finally get to their shared room, it’s with something of a relief. Felix heads immediately towards his luggage, claiming a side of the room as his. “I’d like to remind you that I said this was an awful idea.”
Sylvain flops on the bed, itinerary in hand, “You know what’s an awful idea? We have sunrise yoga at six am!” He turns to Felix in commiseration, only to meet the other’s smirking face.
“Good. You deserve to suffer.”
“Feliiiix. Let’s skip it.”
“You’re the one who claimed we should participate in all activities.”
“Before I knew that meant six am!”
“Quitting, Sylvain?” Felix moves from his suitcase to the bedside, kicking the bed with his foot, “Bitch.”
“Babe, why are your pet names so harsh?”
“You-” There’s a moment when Felix flusters, face unguarded by his typical glower, “You know that we don’t have to continue faking it when we’re in the privacy of our own rooms.”
“Oh. Yeah, I mean - you’re right,” Sylvain laughs, but it’s an odd sound, clashing with the cheery decor of the room. “Didn’t mean to make it weird. Let’s just plan for an early morning tomorrow, right?”
“Of course. Do enjoy your new life as a morning person, Sylvain. This is your own fault.”
“A cold comfort, Felix, and a cold heart. Can’t you spare some kind words for your faux-lover?”
“No. Help me unpack.”
Sylvain pouts, rolling off the bed. “Fine, fine. I’m helping. What do you think sunrise yoga involves? It mentions freeing your ‘body and mind’ in the subtext. Sounds a little sensual, if you ask me. How flexible are you, Felix?”
“Sylvain.”
“I’m helping!”