Chapter Text
Sometimes there are little miracles. Well, Sam doesn’t usually call them that. The term ‘very well timed coincidence’ rings a lot truer for him. But this, this is something extraordinary.
Their office building has power again.
There was a massive sweeping cleanup of the entire city over the last month. Each crater, pile of rubble, broken train, fixed. His not-so-little buddy did quite a number, everywhere. Everything was going back to relative normalcy. Sam’s pretty sure the MTA will be as unreliable as always, but at least it’s running again. He usually drives, anyway. Or lets the demon possessing his car drive itself.
So amongst all the other fixes, they have power and hot water again. Even the big hole between their office and Flint’s is gone. Astonishingly. It never would’ve happened otherwise. Their building just got caught in the general checklist of the restoration.
In a twisted sort of way, it was elder-Max’s last gift for him. It makes Sam’s heart swell with a mixed feeling of fondness and grief. He’s definitely not the type to pray, but he sends a thank you downwards anyway.
Well, there’s a few other curious ’miracles’ recently, too. Another Max, created from some time travel crossover shenanigans and fresh from an alternative universe (long story) is here now. He lost his own version of Sam in a similar manner, so now they both can feel bad about it together. They don’t talk about it much, and when they do it’s rather curt. But…couple-sulking is healthy, right? Maybe even romantic.
Yes, that too. While they may not be strictly labeling it right now, in a sense they are a couple. They touch lips to each other’s various body parts on a daily basis, and make gooey eyes at each other every now and again. Max has gone back to calling him Sammy, which Sam hasn’t heard since they were in sixth grade. It’s very nostalgic, right down to the cavities it gives him.
It's nice to have these new activities with Max, it's keeping them both from dying of boredom. Whenever things get too quiet, the rabbit just pounces on him. It helps out when they don't want to talk about... certain recent events. The physical touch is reassuring.
But now that power is on again, the phone can ring. And it does.
They had been a bit preoccupied when the shrill sound reached them. Sam almost managed to not hear it because of Max’s vice grip on both of his ears as the rabbit was splayed out on Sam’s desk with his legs up in the air, the hound looming over him with both hands on the wooden surface, keeping them steady. They had ended up there completely on accident.
But still, there's a phone call now, and papers go flying.
Of course there’s a frantic scramble. Sam gets the wind knocked out of him by a rabbit foot kicking him in the chest. Still, he is able to pull Max by the wrists and fling him between his legs like they’re swing dancing. The lagomorph skids at top speed across the wood floor and ends up under the couch.
Sam picks up the receiver.
“Hello? Commissioner! I haven’t heard your voice in, well… as long as your marriage has been going, I think!” He laughs. “What? What’s wrong? Oh! Thank you, but… No, no condolences needed. Yes, he’s here, all ship-shape. I know, it’s not that surprising to me either.”
Max is next to him in seconds.
“Tell him I say hi!”
Sam shushes him.
“What have we been doing…?” Sam tugs at his already loosened collar, looking a bit embarrassed. He tries to ignore Max’s wiggling brows in his peripheral vision. “A little of this and that. Well deserved vacation time. Yes, okay. We’ll be waiting.”
He hangs up with a shake of his head.
“A case…?” Max looks hopeful.
“Unfortunately not yet, pal. Just letting us know things are back up and running, so we should expect one, soon.”
Max huffs, crossing his arms.
“Boo hiss. I want to go back to wandering aimlessly around while you monologue and do all the work.”
Sam pats him on the head. He adjusts his loosened tie back into an acceptable position. The action seems to remind Max about their previous activity, however. The lagomorph grins.
“While we’re bored we should get back to it, Sam.” He tugs on Sam’s jacket.
“I dunno about that, Max. At least, maybe not here in the office, if we don’t want interruptions. With everything goin’ back to normal, we should be seeing—”
The door bursts open. Both Freelance Police immediately turn towards the sound and whip out their weapons.
“Sam-o! Have you been here this whole— what in the hell?!”
It’s Flint Paper, looking pretty astonished. Which is really something, rest assured. The man hardly cracks. It’s definitely not from being held at gun-point, though.
“What kinda damn abomination of science is this, then?” He points to Max. Both of the duo lower their firearms.
“Flinty baby! I’ve returned from the dead to haunt you! OoOOooOo!!” Max wiggles his fingers in the air.
“Shut it, bonehead.” Sam whacks him upside the head. Max crumples to the floor, still grinning. “S’long story, Flint. A whole big mess with quantum related things. I think the universe needed to restore balance.”
The detective squints at the both of them. As much as they hold Flint in high regard, the man deals more in relatively ‘normal’ police work. Not so much adventures into space or across time and dimensions. No hellish ventures or psychic debacles.
Not to say Flint isn’t excellent at what he does; he’s a genius. Both of his fists are geniuses, too. The man scratches at his five o’clock shadow (it’s 11am) and shrugs. Seems he’s not going to press on it, thankfully.
“Ah, well. Glad you’re back, kid. You gave everyone a huge scare, I’ll tell ya. You too, Sam-o. Thought you up and left the city, maybe the planet. Haven’t seen ya at all!”
“We were here.” Sam gestures with his hand that’s still holding the revolver.
“I can tell. You two stink to high heaven.” Flint starts to leave the room. “Let’s celebrate the office restoration after you use the hot water!” The door squeaks and slams shut.
“I’d give my body and soul for that man, but bathing is a stretch.” Max remarks.
Meanwhile, Sam’s glad to go ahead and take the detective’s advice. Washing up is a heavenly idea. Max had suggested the tongue-bath idea again a little while ago, but it was a lot less appealing.
So he heads to the shower. Scrubs, rinses off, steps out. Shakes water all over the bathroom and then grabs his towel for the rest. Time to wrestle Max into doing the same. No doubt he’s gone to hide at the suggestion of getting clean.
Wearing fresh pants and button-up, he starts to search. Not under the bed, not in the cupboards. Not in the office closet. Under the couch or desk? Not there. Inside jars and drawers? Nothing. Sam’s about ready to give up when he considers the roof.
Max isn’t really even hiding up here. He’s sitting still and poking at a random spot on the roof’s floor.
“Hi Sam.” He sounds uncharacteristically wistful.
“I’m not here for pleasantries, Max. We gotta get you cleaned up.”
“I knoooowww . Five more minutes, Mom .”
Sam rolls his eyes and plops down next to his buddy. Max leans his head on the dog’s arm.
“Remember that?” He points to a random blackened mark right in front of them. It’s spread out in a sort of explosion shape.
“‘Course I do, pal. Fireworks.”
Max breathes out a sigh, like he’d been holding it.
“Oh, good. You guys did it too.”
Referring to alternate versions, Sam guesses. Either way, it’s a pleasant memory. Noisy and humid and smelled of smoke, but nice all the same. Much before anything close to Skunkape or Toyboxes entered their lives. When cases were still strange, but not so world-changing.
His heart tugs a little. Though this Max did the exact same thing, it still hurts a bit to think that the one he had sat with in his lap was not here anymore. Sure, Sam has someone with basically identical experiences right next to him, but…
It feels unfair. That his previous little buddy won’t get to sit here and reminisce with him anymore. If he felt the same way as this Max did about their relationship, he never even got to let Sam know. That’s an injustice.
The dog clenches his hands together. He’s feeling culpable, responsible; there was so much more he could’ve done. He could have acted faster... he should’ve taken the situation more seriously—
Max lays his head in Sam’s lap, the pressure on his thigh grounding him and wrenching him from the spiraling thoughts.
“Y’know how I never remember anything, Sammy?”
His heart beat speeds at the nickname.
“Of course.” He pets Max’s head absentmindedly.
“Well, I remember the fireworks. They were so flashy that I think they burned permanently into my retinas.”
“That’s great, Max.”
He stares off into the city. The afternoon sun glints off of the fire escapes, and the air hangs thick and hot. There’s still feelings lingering and sinking in his gut: regret, and guilt and a little bit of anger—
“Especially cause it’s one of the times I remembered my stupid feelings about you. I think I had to remind myself at least a thousand times about those to see if they were still real.”
Sam goes a little dizzy. He looks down at Max, who’s staring up at him with eyes full of sincerity. For once.
“Literal and figurative fireworks.” Max remarks in an almost whisper.
That nice and noisy July night together had made the little guy feel that way? Could almost move him to tears. Honestly, he is feeling warmth pool in his face at least.
The dog strokes a thumb across Max’s cheek.
“They’re not stupid,” he says quietly.
“I know.” The lagomorph places his paw over the larger brown one.
They fall quiet for a moment. Not wanting to dwell more on negative thoughts, the dog turns all of his attention to the partner laying on his leg. Max stares back up at him, his eyes unsettlingly cute as always, unblinking. Sam thinks about how had looked when he first stepped out of that elevator, grinning like always but bags heavy under his eyes, a grey tinge to the white fur from dust or soot or something like that. A mirror image of himself, at the time. Max wore the dirt and tiredness in a prettier way, however. Well, he was always a pretty little bunny.
Well, while he's letting sappy thoughts invade his head...
Sam’s not losing this little guy again, he thinks. No way.
Even if Max smells so bad right now. Sam sighs, remembering why he came up here in the first place.
“You’re very good at stalling, little buddy.” He says with a smile.
“Damn. You got me, Sam.”
So he slings Max over his shoulder and carries him kicking, punching, and wriggling to the bathtub.
One very violent bathing later where Sam got drenched all over again, Max is smelling like strawberry soap. Sam kneels on the floor and scrubs him with a towel maybe a bit too hard, leaving his fur puffed up like a dandelion. His teeth are bared, eyes wide and angry.
“Aw. Lookit you, Maxie. I just wanna wrap you up in a little bow.” Sam flicks a long ear playfully.
“I’ll tear out all your innards.”
Sam gives him puppy eyes and clasps his hands together. “Promise?”
Max crosses his arms.
“Rrrghh… don’t make that face! I’m the one who’s supposed to enjoy the concept of potential pain!” The little guy is blushing, barely visible through all the fluff but Sam notices.
Sam laughs and smooths his paws down Max's face, flattening the white fur back down.
“I know, I know. Please don’t maul me, Max.”
“I can’t guarantee anything.”
Sam gives him a peck on his pink nose and starts to stand. The rabbit doesn’t let him, though. His collar is yanked downwards and Max kisses him on the mouth.
After a moment he is released, and the lagomorph starts stomping towards the door to the hallway.
“I’m gonna go back downstairs and hang out with my favorite guy, Flint Paper. Feel free to come and ruin our alone time, Sam!”
Sam heaves a sigh, shaking his head with a fond smile. He grabs his hat, and follows shortly after.