WARNING: This chapter contains discussion of off-screen sexual content, and the morality of watching it. No explicit content occurs.

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“Don’t think you can skip out on your checkup just because you won’t be on infiltration this mission,” Drake smirked as he leaned against the door to Trace’s information hideout. “It’s important enough for all of us, we all get checked.”

Trace waved a dismissive hand and shifted the headphones on his ears. “Later. Before we leave, of course. I will.”

Drake narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Trace didn’t like checkups, but it wasn’t like him to deliberately miss an appointment. As far as Drake knew the only important thing happening in the city was - “Are you monitoring the fox again?”

“The twins, actually,” Trace said. “They wanted to have a gift ready for the Boss when we got back. They’re… recruiting some help.”

“Something in that statement stinks, and it ain’t your dinner. Which I notice you didn’t eat.” The bowl was full of cold meat and potatoes now, as unappetizing as the needles of a cactus.

“I was getting equipment ready for them,” Trace said. He pointed to one of the monitors and Drake hefted himself away from the wall so he could see the wide coverage of the twins room. On their dresser were several camcorders and cameras - some old school, some modern, and even a few with enhancements Drake recognized for field work - which didn’t explain the fly-on-the-wall view.

“You bugged their room?”

“They bugged their room,” Trace corrected. “Like I said, they wanted to get the Boss a gift.”

Drake felt his ears droop and his shoulders sag. “They’re trying for porn again, aren’t they? Can you tell the little bastards if they pull something again I’m not clearing them for tomorrow? Last thing we need is one of them ripping a muscle trying for acrobatics.” If they could just have normal sex like everyone else this wouldn’t be an issue. Drake gave them props for enthusiasm and ingenuity, and a negative ten on execution.

“Like I said - they’re recruiting help.”

On the screen Tic and Toc laughed and stumbled into the room, followed by a small black fox in a mask. “They didn’t.”

“They did.”

“Trace they can’t,” Drake hissed as he stalked forward and tapped a few familiar buttons which confirmed what Drake thought: Trace was recording. “Did he agree to this?”

“He agreed to help them make porn,” Trace shrugged. “I heard that much.”

“Did he agree to being part of it? Does he know you’re watching?”

Trace frowned, then shrugged. “I would assume so. That’s my equipment in there, and all the rookies know my equipment is set to send all data back to me.”

“Damnit, Trace, that’s not agreement. What are you going to do if he finds out and objects? Do they even realize - what if it’s not the one, huh? It’s been years and the bastard is probably dead. They could be courting the wrong damn fox.”

“Do you really believe that?” Trace challenged. His voice was all fang and snap as his tail swatted the chair.

“I don’t want to,” Drake reminded the other wolf. “But it is most likely. I’ve accepted that. I want him to be the bastard, but we can’t replace our lord’s first with some wrong-breed fake.” He sagged into the chair Trace had pushed away and looked at the screen. Trace had frozen it on the image of Blackie examining the cameras, but Drake was sure it was recording somewhere in the background. The video stored on some server well protected underground. That’s the way Trace was. The twins probably had a keyword, too, that would alert the system if something started going wrong. “Trace, I want it to be him. So badly. And I know our lord thinks that little fox has the right scent, but it doesn’t add up. And if we do this we risk them figuring out that we know.”

“You know we’ve got his room bugged. It’s a constant monitoring of him. Hell, you know I follow him on every camera in the city. I have almost 24 hour watch of some sort until they switch and somehow just disappear. This is no different.”

“It is,” Drake groaned.

“How?”

The growl of the Information Expert didn’t sway Drake from his certainty. “It just is. Do you want someone peeking in on you when we get close?”

Trace shrugged. “I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Let me rephrase, then: wouldn’t you want to know?”

There was a guilty look shot at the medic, and Trace’s shoulders slumped. “You know the answer to that.”

Drake did know. If Trace didn’t personally go through about a hundred different measures (and counter measures) to ensure no one was watching, listening, or bugging a space he always assumed someone was watching. Even in safe spaces like the bedroom. It was a paranoia he’d learned to live with and accept; he’d adapted and learned to beat the shit out of anyone who tried to blackmail him. This room was one of the few zones he cleared regularly and actually knew no one was watching. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that this is dangerous. If we start treating him differently they’re going to realize we know there’s more than one.”

“Would that be so bad?” Trace asked. He was hiding behind his tablet again, probably watching the live feed. “What’s wrong with showing them they can’t trick a wolf?”

“Do you want to risk sending them all into hiding before we know for sure?” Drake growled softly. “Because we don’t know them, we don’t know what they’ll do, and if it were me I’d high-tail it out at the first sign my cover’s blown.”

Trace’s fingers were tapping on the edge of the tablet and he was frowning, but a shifting of his scent showed he was interested in the images on his screen. “Trace, we should stop them.”

“No. Right now it’s a harmless interaction. He thinks he’s helping two wolves make a very tempting gift for a packmate. And that story is even true. If we go storming in there now he’ll know we’ve been watching,” Trace said. “He already suspects I can - I’d rather not confirm it. If he only suspects then he doesn’t know. I’d wager he even suspects - or knows - about his room.”

“He should know,” Drake huffed. “About this at least. It’s private, Trace.”

Trace snorted. “Private? When everyone went in knowing they were making something intimate for someone else? He’s not exactly a shy little cub.”

Drake stood again and started to pace. “It doesn’t sit right! We do this crap to our enemies, not our allies. I don’t like this.”

“I know,” Trace sighed. “I get it. I’d say what’s done is done, but really - Drake, how else are we going to find out? He won’t tell us. He might be an enemy, as you pointed out.”

“And what does this get us, huh?” Drake demanded, huffing out loudly.

“Our scent on him,” the other wolf answered honestly. “The twins, at least. Maybe not directly, but as close as he is and as much as they scented that room before he entered, he’ll have some sense of pack on him when he leaves. Maybe not enough for others to notice, but enough that he will.”

“They could drive him away.”

“They could pull him closer,” Trace countered, challenged even. “If he is our missing fox, he’ll crave it. He’ll want to be a part of us again.”

“And what if he’s not and that’s what they want us to think?” Drake tried, standing again and pacing. “What if it’s a lure and he’s the bait?”

“Then we rip him apart and the two idiots who came with him,” Trace said dryly. “Though I admit I wouldn’t mind having him stick around with a camera for a time. He’s getting some good shots.”

The look Drake shot his packmate could have frozen the desert sun.

“Fine, fine. I won’t invite him the next time you want to make a little present for the boss,” Trace sighed. “I’m sure Slick wouldn’t mind.”

“Slick wouldn’t have come up with such a fool plan in the first place,” Drake growled. “Is it over?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Over enough that you’ll get your exam for this stupid-ass mission,” Drake growled. “Do you still need to monitor?”

Trace smiled. “That almost sounded like you cared.”