#Every time I try to explain my observations I sound so god damn pretentious that I can't stand myself.

[thegodthief]

Don't mind me, just sighing despondently.

[realm-sweet-realm]

Thieves’ Gambit

Hey. So, I wrote a chapter for the body-swap to the death AU. I don’t know if I’ll make a whole thing of this, but what the heck. This is going to be the “day five” chapter. It’s an uplifting chapter, sort of the calm before the storm (assuming I make a whole thing of this), so to speak. If I do decide to write the whole thing, well, it’s not all going to be this fluffy. It’s gonna involve self-mutilation as a form of revenge, and lots and lots of demonic magic. Alright, now let’s get to it.

---

Henry Stein slid the tape recorder onto the top shelf of the break room and pressed record, as he’d done with another five tape recorders he’d hidden around the room. While he was glad that he’d soon be back in his own body, he was thanking his lucky stars for the power that came with the one he currently inhabited. As Joey Drew, he could make the employees do whatever he needed them to do in order to get more information out of them. Like now.

The twelve body-swapped employees filed in a few minutes later and sat down in the chairs that Henry had set up.

“You’re probably wondering what I brought you all here for,” Henry announced in his best dramatic, upbeat voice.  “Well, I’m here to give you the whole afternoon off! The only thing that I need you to do first is fill out a little survey for me. You’ll all have to stay in this room for thirty minutes. I don’t want any of you give incomplete answers just so you can leave early! Understood?” Henry’s speech was replied with a chorus of nods, and so Henry passed out the surveys and headed for the door. Before leaving he paused to wonder if Joey would have stayed longer to watch them. Henry supposed it didn’t matter. This whole scenario was already pretty weird, and between the surveys and the tape, and everything else that he’d done to secure information that week, Henry felt entirely confident that he was going to live even if he did a mediocre job at selling his role.

Everyone in the room was done their survey within less than fifteen minutes. Most just sat, still and expressionless, after they were done. It was easier than acting. Some, however, were on the hunt for answers.

Norman Polk, in the body of Shawn Flynn, ran up to Wally Franks (or rather, whoever was piloting him) and exclaimed, “Hey, Wally, my boy! Let’s do something crazy after we get out of here!” He didn’t bother to try and fake an Irish accent. No one but Shawn had one, so not having one wouldn’t have narrowed down anyone’s quarry at all. He was, however, ratcheting up the speed, pitch and volume of his normally deep, heavy voice.

Grant, who was currently piloting Wally’s body, just wanted to go home and collapse. He’d already taken a sick day this week because, as a person who barely had the energy to make it through the day as was, doing so while analyzing every action he and others around him made, and while pretending to be a bundle of zany energy and incompetence, was all but impossible.Soon, he promised himself, summoning the all the vigor he could to act like the boundless ball of energy he was inhabiting. “Oh, boy! I love me something crazy! What exactly are we gonna do?”

“Gee, I don’t know Wally. You’re my idea man, why don’t you come up with somethin'?”

Grant had no time to think. “Let’s roll down the biggest set of stairs we can find in a garbage can!” Of all things to come out of my mouth, it just had to be that, he snapped at himself. But, surely whoever was piloting Shawn would have the sense to shut it down.

“Now we’re talking! I know just the place!”

“Yeah! And, uh, so do I!”

“Let’s ride down every damn staircase in New York! We’ve got nothing but time!”

From the corner, Lacie was resisting the urge to fall over laughing. These two men were looking at each other with these big, pained, ridiculous smiles, curled fists and nervous looks in their eyes, and had devolved into chattering about absolutely nothing, probably because they figured that Wally and Shawn wouldn’t have just let the conversation die down. “Someone’s overselling your role,” she whispered teasingly to Shawn. Shawn was in her body, so he was allowed to laugh, a luxury she, in Norman’s body, did not possess.

Shawn began scribbling on a piece of paper. To anyone else, Shawn would have had to actually speak, producing a painful-sounding attempt at an American accent. Not to Lacie, though. The day before, Lacie had heard Shawn speaking in that strained voice, taken him into the ink machine room where no one else could hear, and stomped hard on his foot. The Irish cursing that had earned her was proof enough that she’d found Shawn. The two had agreed to a thieves’ gambit- neither would guess the other when the time arrived. They’d decided that Bertrum and Wally would be a part of the thieves’ gambit as well, if they ever found them.

Shawn handed Lacie the scrap of paper. Looks like he’s not the only one overselling it, it read. Shawn, a goofy smile on his face, pointed at a despondent-looking Grant Cohen who was sitting huddled in the corner. Lacie watched as the little man brushed tears from his eyes. That doesn’t look like acting, Lacie wrote. I’m going to go see if that’s one of the thieves’ gambit.

All in all, Lacie was fairly indifferent to Norman Polk. Barely knew a thing about him, which made playing him pretty difficult. But Grant had spoken at length about their friendship while the two of them (plus Shawn) had gone out drinking, so it was clear to her that being friendly to him was perfectly in character.

“Hey. Everything alright?” she asked.

“Grant,” who was really Wally Franks, stopped crying momentarily and looked over to “Norman” and “Lacie.” Wally generally found those two intimidating, but right now even their company was more than welcome. “Oh, yes,” Wally answered, trying to put the appropriate pretentious air into his tearful voice. “Joey is overspending again, what else is new? Don’t worry about me, I just want to be alone awhile.”

“Fair enough,” “Norman” replied. She didn’t see any way to force the truth out of him. They turned to go back to their own corner of the room.

Wally felt like a starving man who had just shoved a plate of food into a trash compactor. And for what? He was dead no matter how well he sold his role, and he knew it. “Wait,” he called after them as he met them in the center of the room. He wasn’t even trying to hide his real voice anymore. “Can I tell you what’s really botherin’ me?”

“Yes, go ahead!” “Norman” said.

“I don’t know how well I’m playin’ this role, and I still don’t know who anyone is, and I’m sure the opposite isn’t true, and I’m just tryin’ to accept that I’m gonna die and I really needed to talk to someone but I know he wouldn’ta done that, and I-“ Wally started sobbing. He felt like everyone could see who he was now. He might as well give every clue of it away. “I’m worried about my dogs. I don’t know if Norman’s eatin’ em or Joey’s sacrificin’ em to the Gods or what. I just wanna see my dogs, make sure they’re okay!”

Shawn looked awkwardly over to Lacie. It was pretty obvious that this was Wally, but he wasn’t about to let anyone into the thieves’ gambit without her consent. Lacie gave Shawn a little nod of permission, and Shawn put an arm around his crying friend. “Hey. Stick with us after they let us out of here, alright? We’re here for you.”

“Okay,” Wally choked out.

A few minutes later, everyone was allowed out. Shawn led the way, and the trio followed “Shawn” and “Wally.” Shawn tapped “Shawn” on the shoulder to get his attention, then put on his best annoyed-but-playful Lacie voice. “Hey, dumbass. You forgot to lock up the storage closet.” The strain to hide his accent aside, he was doing one hell of an impression.

“Oh no. I don’t know about any storage closet. Can you help me?”

“Of course. I’ll cover for ya, buddy. Just hand me the key.”

“Thank you,” “Shawn” said. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a key ring. Shawn grabbed it and quickly removed a small, round key before handing it back.

“I’ll get it back to you at Henry’s party on Sunday, alright?”

“Yeah, perfect! Thanks Lacie!” “Shawn” beamed before turning to go.

The second the three were a safe distance from the studio, Shawn spoke up in full Irish accent. “Wally my boy, do you know what just happened?”

Wally’s eyes lit up as he realized the identity of his cohort. “Shawn!”

“That’s right, my laddie! And your favourite dogsitter just nabbed the spare key to your apartment from his own body! I can’t solve all yer problems, but hey, at least we can see your dogs while “you” are busy rolling down stairs with “me”.”

Speechless, Wally squeezed the life out of Shawn. On the walk over, Lacie explained the thieves’ gambit to him. It didn’t encourage him any about his chances of living, but it still felt nice to have two people he didn’t have to act for.

—

Norman was good at this game, owing mostly to his ability to read people like a book. He’d already guessed the identity of seven players of the game, and he would have guessed “Wally’s” identity as well, if he hadn’t been trying to handle some harder cases first, and if “Wally” hadn’t been absent from work the day before. Even then, there were only so many people he could be, and Norman had narrowed it down to four potential candidates: Susie, Grant, Thomas, and Lacie. This trial they were marching towards (lord knows what staircase “Wally” was leading him to) would make a perfect test. Susie and Grant, Norman knew, were both fairly nervous people, and they both had their nervous ticks. Susie tended to play with her hair, and Grant preferred torturing his hands. Put “Wally” in between physical danger and acting out of character, and all it would take is a little observation.

Finally, they arrived at a steep set of stairs on the edge of a hill. The steps looked to descend at least a good fifteen feet, and Norman could see “Wally” wringing his hands at the sight of it. He’d already suspected it was Grant- had the same shifty eyes and the same manner of walking- but now he was fairly sure of it. For the sake of the act, though, the two fetched an empty trash can from an alleyway. At very least, Norman had convinced “Wally” to go first.

“Can I do the hill first?” “Wally” asked, looking back at Norman with a big, obviously fake smile.

“Sure, if you wanna be a coward!” He yelled without thinking. Another talent of Norman’s was entering another person when he was acting. In this moment, he was Shawn Flynn, and his unthinking instinct was to act like Shawn Flynn.

“Wally” mumbled an okay, climbed into the filthy trash can while trying to hide his hesitation, and tried to wrack up the courage to roll himself down the stairs. This is ridiculous,was all he had time to think before he felt a push against the side of the can and he was tumbling down, watching the world spin and praying for his physical safety.

Thankfully, Grant emerged from the can unhurt except for a few cuts and bruises and started making his way up the stairs to hand the can over to “Shawn” for his turn.

“Woo! That was amazin’! Sorry, but I’ll have to head home and walk the dogs after this. But first, I wanna see you go!”

“Wally’s” eyes trained on Norman as he handed him the trash can. Was he actually going to do this? Hurt someone else’s body to perform for one person? Heck, was he really going to increase his best friend’s chances of dying at the end of the week? He already had so many identities figured out, so how much extra protection would that even give him?

Norman tossed the garbage can aside. “Grant, this is stupid. We got through the workweek, let’s just stop acting already. This is Norman talking.”

Within about five seconds, Grant’s face phased through shock and anger before landing on relief. “Well, I admire your courage,” he replied, a snarky tone in his voice. “Next time though, maybe find it before making me crawl into a musty trash can and pushing me down the stairs?”

Norman chuckled. “Well, it was your idea.”

“Here’s a better idea. Let’s go back to my place, have some coffee, and play some cards. It’s been a week.”

“Good plan. It has been a week,” Norman replied.

—

Lacie, Norman and Wally had made their way to Wally’s apartment. Lacie went ahead to knock first, just in case “Wally” had changed his mind and come home. The coast was clear.

The second Wally was through the door, he was kneeling on the floor as a golden retriever bounded towards him. “Goldie!” he shouted in delight. After Goldie came a Jack Russell Terrier. “Clover! Oh, who’s a good girl?” two little white and black chihuahuas followed. “Oh, and it’s the twins!” Wally scratched each of their sides, both as sign of affection and because it was the easiest way to make sure they were being adequately fed. They all seemed as healthy as they seemed happy to see them. “I think they recognize me!” Wally chirped. Then Goldie tried jumping into Wally’s arms and ended up bowling him onto the floor, where he was helpless to the licking of his four dogs. Wally was laughing. “Guess she doesn’t see how much smaller I am now!”

Just then, the door creaked open again, and “Wally” and “Shawn” stepped in.

“What is going on here?” “Wally” asked calmly.

“Uh...” Wally sat up, realizing that he had absolutely no idea what to say. “Well, you’ve probably already guessed who I am, so I guess I’ll tell the truth. I wanted to see my dogs, and Shawn is my number one dogsitter, so I had Shawn-“

“Lacie” face-palmed. So much for staying hidden.

“Uh, sorry. I had Shawn get the spare key to my apartment. That’s what happened. So, uh, thanks for looking after my dogs. We’ll just be going, I guess.”

“Hold it,” Shawn said. “Have you all ever heard of a thieves’ gambit?” Shawn knew it was a long-shot, but this could be his only chance to save Wally’s life.

“I’ve heard of it, but I’m not familiar with it,” Norman replied.

“Care to explain it, Lacie?”

Lacie did explain it. “Imagine that two thieves are brought in for questioning. The police separate em’ and tell em’, ‘we’ll give you half the usual sentence, but only if you admit to being a thief, and tell us who your partner is.’ Now, obviously, the thieves shouldn’t tell. But that’s only true if they can be sure the other person is trustworthy.”

“Interesting,” “Wally” said, “But what does that have to do with us?”

Shawn spoke up. “The three of us are in a thieves’ gambit. We know each other’s identity and we aren’t selling each other out. It’s in all of our best interest if you join us.”

Lacie made a face. “Shawn, a thieves’ gambit needs trust. We don’t even know their identities. One of them could be Joey for all we know.”

“Well, if I can suggest something,” Grant said, “The goal of this game is to guess more people than we are guessed by. So, if we can’t trust each other not to guess each other, well, it’ll lead to the exact same result if we all collectively agree to share our identities and rat each other out when the time comes.”

“Now that I can trust,” Lacie said.

“Also, I have a list of nine identities I’ve figured out,” Norman added. “Let us into your thieves’ gambit, and I’ll share them.”

“Wait, nine?” Shawn exclaimed, looking to Wally with excitement in his eyes. “Wally, you’re going to live!” He turned back to face the others with a sharp, serious face. “We’ll all agree to rat each other out, sure. But nobody is ratting out Wally! There are eight people not in this room, and there’s nine names on that list. If Wally dies, I’ll know one of you ratted him out, and I’ll kick all three of your asses into next Tuesday, ya hear?”

“We hear,” Grant replied. Honestly, though, with Norman’s list, no one would have any reason not to listen to Shawn. They’d won. And with the workweek over, the bulk of their acting was done. That night, Grant and Wally even slept in their own homes. All they had to do was to get through “Henry’s” party on Sunday and they were going to live.