A/N: This is my first fic for Rhack, so I'm sorry if they're horribly OOC. That being said, please tell me where they are being OOC, so I can fix it. Tbh, I mostly began this as a tester oneshot to help me get more comfortable with the characters but somehow plot got involved and? Anyways, now there's a plan for at least two more chapters. That being said, please enjoy this absolute trashfest that somehow manifested and grew until this all happened.

Summary (because you know, 394 characters is so much space to work with)

It all started like how most things did with Hyperion.

Person A was an absolute douchenozzle, and eventually Person B got tired of it and decided to end it. It was a hard lesson learned on the first day of working for Hyperion, but it was a lesson that definitely got you through the day at the end of it all. And yeah, the results varied, but you typically had about a 78% chance of actually succeeding and living for at least 8 days, so that was definitely a plus. It was simple, easy, and rarely ever varied out of expectation.

This is the point where you realize that this is Hyperion, and nothing is ever simple and easy.

If only Rhys had realized that before he decided to go blackmail a certain asshole in a club without constantly checking his surroundings.

Oh well. At least he has a physical proof that Vasquez tattooed Handsome Jack's face on his ass.

In all honesty, Rhys didn't really like , he was totally cool with going to small get togethers or slumber parties (not that he would ever call them that out loud because hello Never Ending Teasing, it's nice to see you're doing well) but finding himself in a ginormous room filled with a constantly pounding bass and having to avoid twisting and turning sweaty bodies? Sure, joining in with the crowd and dancing was always an option but considering the last time Rhys had tried to dance in a club resulted in someone getting 42 stitches and a new kidney, he was going to stick with his late night shit talk, thank you.

Despite all that, here Rhys was at a bar squinting through the bright lights and fighting off an impending headache. In his defense, he wasn't really there because he wanted to be there. No, Rhys was there on business. After all, what better way to get promoted quickly than by blackmailing your boss? People do a lot of crazy stuff when they thought they were safe and lost amongst the flashing lights and mess of intoxicated people after all. Stuff that they wouldn't want anyone to ever find out lest Hyperion hears about it and kills them for even being associated with their gold plated name.

Don't get Rhys wrong though. Blackmail wasn't his usual preference for going up the corporate ladder at all, but hard work and dedication could only get you so far when you have a dickhead bent on making your every living second perpetual hell as your boss.

Even a month later, the bitter taste of defeat resurfaced every time Rhys though about that fateful day when shit royally hit the fan. He had been so close to a promotion that he could practically feel the signed paper in his hands stating his new position. Henderson had been one of the few people who noticed Rhys's skill and all of the sacrifices made throughout his time on Helios pretty quickly and kept dropping hints about a certain promotion coming up that might interest Rhys. The meeting was supposed to be quick, clean, and simple. Henderson would teasingly lead up to Rhys's promotion and then congratulate him a job well done and bam, just another step up the rungs of the corporate ladder.

(Maybe that was the part where Rhys was supposed to remember that hardly anything is quick, clean, and simple in Hyperion.)

Instead, Rhys walked inside the room and instantly spotted a smug Vasquez smiling at him from the wrong side of the desk explaining to him that Henderson had 'gotten into an accident' and was unable to work for Hyperion anymore. Fortunately for Hyperion, Henderson had somehow managed to write a letter dictating that should anything ever happen to him to leave Vasquez in his place. The company, of course, took the letter at face value and promoted Vasquez immediately. Sure, one could argue that something seemed a little shady about the entire thing, but in all honesty Hyperion could care less about any of the small details such as the mysterious burgundy spots littered across the page or the weird way Henderson's words seem to be strangely shaky as though someone was standing behind him with a gun to his head forcing him to write whatever they wanted him to say. In all honesty, the paper could have pieces of brain matter still drying on it but as long as it had Henderson's signature, and they would still promote Vasquez.

Oh, but don't worry. Rhys still got his promotion.

Because obviously the step up from his current job was Assistant Vice Janitor.

Obviously.

To this day, Rhys still shuddered when he thought of the things he saw in his week of cleaning. Rhys wasn't even sure that the human imagination was even capable of such horrendous sights let alone make them.

Fortunately, his absence from his old job was enough to leave a hole large enough in sales that caught the higher ups attention pretty quickly. According to the break room gossip, they were beginning to get pretty pissy about the lack of progress from their department and sent a letter to Vasquez telling him to fix whatever the hell he fucked up or else he would be joining Henderson in his retirement. Rhys didn't want to brag, but he was at least a decent part of the reason why the department always had a nice flow and high output. Having a mechanic arm and ECHO eye tended to help you filter through and work on things infinitely more fast than other workers.

Needless to say, Rhys was back to sitting at his old chair pretty quickly. Letters from your boss's boss's boss tended to help things happen.

Even while coming back to his original job was definitely nice, and Rhys was in no way complaining about it, he still couldn't help but want to tear his hair out. If Vasquez wasn't constantly breathing down Rhys's neck (quite literally half of the time), he was adding to the already gigantic amount of paperwork that was towering on the corner of Rhys's desk. The stack had grown so tall that it had to be positioned very carefully or else Rhys was buried alive in an avalanche of paper, which meant Vasquez made it a point to knock over the papers in the most dramatic fashion every time he came by Rhys's desk. To put it simply, seeing Rhys picking up papers off the ground every minute or so became so much of a common occurrence that some people had taken to just putting his assignments on the ground. Everything Vasquez was doing would be considered as cruel and unusual punishment by any company that wasn't Hyperion, and it was all working to push Rhys to the edge. Just having to look at Vasquez's stupid face took every bit of Rhys's patience to not punch a straight month of Vasquez's tyranny, Rhys was tired and done, so he was going to put an end to Vasquez's shitfest as soon as possible.

So yeah, Rhys wasn't a very good partier, but you bet your ass Rhys was going to be at a party tonight, especially when there was a deadly combo of Vasquez and enough alcohol at the party that would make even the most experienced drinker blush.

Rhys idly nursed a glass of water as he watched the crowd of people sway to the beat of the music in front of him. Experience from his past last resorts had taught him that if he waited long enough that someone was bound to make the right amount of noise and attention that would lead to stupid decisions. Considering the fact that Vasquez was now on his third drink and was steadily growing more and more obnoxious, Rhys wasn't going to be waiting for much longer. From there, all it would take was a few good pictures of Vasquez doing something that even Hyperion would look down upon, and Rhys would finally be able to get Vasquez off his ass for the first time in a month.

The tell-tale squeaking sound to Rhys's left alerted him that someone had decided to sit next to him, and Rhys resisted the urge to groan. Instead, he held the sound back and opted to hope that maybe they would get the hint if Rhys kept staring intently out into the crowd instead of looking beside him. There was always a possibility that Rhys was overreacting and that maybe whoever it was just wanted a drink and a place to sit. And if Rhys's suspicions were correct, well then, even the dumbest of people could read the 'Leave me the hell alone, I'm busy right now' vibes Rhys was desperately trying to send off.

Maybe the fourth person would be the charm?

"Drinking water, cupcake? What kind of loser goes to a nice party like this and drinks water at the bar?"

Goddamnit.

Rhys breathed heavily through his nose before releasing it through his mouth, a tactic Rhys had learned in an attempt to calm himself down whenever Vasquez was feeling particularly douche nozzle-y that day. Rhys just pursed his lips and continued staring forward into the sea of people and hoped the lughead beside him would finally catch the hint and leave Rhys the hell alone. Unfortunately Mystery Man either didn't understand social etiquette or just generally didn't give a fuck. Somehow Rhys got the feeling it was the latter.

"Trying to ignore me? Good luck with that one, princess. Many have tried, and all have failed. Mostly because I shot the ones who pissed me off too much, but hey! Kinda hard to ignore the guy that killed you, so I count that as a win."

Rhys rolled his eyes. The other's tone was full of smug narcissism although it wasn't like there was a lack of that around Hyperion. While Rhys would have loved to continue ignoring him out of sheer spite at this point, he knew the other's type too well. Not giving him any kind of response would only lead to trouble and attention, and that was the last thing Rhys wanted if Vasquez was anywhere nearby. The last thing he needed was for Vasquez to hold the fact Rhys was at a party instead of working on the latest project Vasquez had forced him to pick through over his head and make Rhys go to a seminar of some sort, probably something about Responsibility of Honest and Good Employees Is A Very Good Trait to Have. Rhys could hear the man next to him steadily grow louder in volume, already causing several people to look his way and wince immediately. Rhys internally sighed and wondered what he had done to cause his luck to be so bad that he was stuck next to a guy so obnoxious that wide eyes and shocked expressions were slowly becoming a normal thing to see. A sigh passed through Rhys's lips as regret already began to form in his chest.

"It's typically not a good idea to get drunk when you're trying to get the dirt on someone. Blackmail only works if the other person doesn't have something against you as well."

A low whistle came from beside Rhys, causing him to roll his eyes.

"So he does speak! I was beginning to wonder if you were a mute or just too dumb to understand basic language! Nice to know you have a at least a few brain cells rubbing together in that pretty head of yours!"

Rhys resisted the urge to take what remained of his water and dumping it on the dickweed next to him and took a sip of it instead. He could hear the man next to him drumming his fingers on the bar behind them as he contemplated Rhys's words.

"Blackmail, huh? Not my usual method, but hey, to each his own, right cupcake?"

Rhys absentmindedly nodded along, his eyes still trained on the crowd in front of him. He bit back the sound of irritation threatening to bubble out of his mouth and tapped his finger on the glass still firmly in his grasp. Come on already, Vasquez had been there for at least an hour now. How long did it take this guy to get drunk enough to be a complete dumbass. Well, more of a complete dumbass than he usually was.

The squeak of the chair next to him was Rhys's only warning before a gust of hot air hit his ear, causing a shiver to run down his back. Rhys's eyes opened wide as he turned to see who the hell was getting so close to him. Now that Rhys thought about it, their voice did seem suspiciously familiar as though Rhys heard it often. Rhys didn't hear about any of the other techies from the department talking about going to any parties tonight, but Rhys wouldn't be surprised if they did. Rhys wasn't the only one to think about how much blackmail material could be gained at parties after all. But why the hell would they be getting this close to Rhys of all people? It wasn't adding up.

Before Rhys turn far enough to catch any details of the man's face aside from a glint of metal (a piercing of some sort?), a hand clamped down harshly on his chin and forced him to look back at the crowd. He could feel the man's right arm snaking around his shoulders and suddenly pulling Rhys back into his chest. While the move might have been romantic with someone else, Rhys could only feel terror at the extremely tight hold the other had on him. Adrenaline was beginning to coarse through his veins as Rhys tried to mentally prepare himself for what would be the first physical fight in his entire life. Chances of winning were so low that any self respecting accountant would cry at the sight of it, but at least Rhys could say he went down with a fight.

"Geez, calm down, princess! If I was going to hurt you, you would already be on the ground trying to do something about all the blood spewing out of your neck. Now tell me," The man leaned in towards Rhys's ear, hot puffs of air gently caressing the cartilage, "Who's the lucky guy, cupcake?"

Another shiver forced its way down Rhys's back as he tried to force his heart back down his throat.

"Um, that's, I don't think y-"

His words were cut off by an irritated groan as the arm around his shoulder tightened. Rhy felt the annoyed tuts vibrating off the other's chest more than he heard them.

"No, no, no, sweetheart. That's no way to act when you want to completely and utterly destroy someone! If you're going to ruin someone, you gotta stay committed. Can't go wussin' out halfway through. So I'll ask again, and I want you to tell me properly this time. Who's the lucky guy?"

Rhys gulped, eyes still focused on the crowd despite the burning need to turn his head and give a face to the voice that had stopped for what seemed like the first time that night as he waited for Rhys to respond. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again and hoped that whatever came out would sound more stable than he felt.

"Vasquez. He's- uh, the head of my department. He was promoted to be my boss after my old one, Henderson, was…. Unable to come back to work. Ever since day one, Vasquez has made it his mission to make my life miserable. So… I decided to put an end to it."

Rhys held his breath, hoping his words were up to the stranger's standards. When the other hummed under his breath and didn't tighten his grip any more, Rhys's body seemed to almost relax involuntarily in the other's arms as his heart began to calm down it's stampede for the first time since this whole fiasco had started. He finally released the air that had been begging to be let out.

"Sounds like your typical Hyperion douchenozzle. You're tired of dealing with this Vasquez guy's horseshit, so you're putting an end to it... albeit in a more wimpy way than I would have done, but hey! We can't all be me!"

The man hummed under his breath again as if considering something before he spoke up again.

"I like you, kiddo. You kinda remind me of myself when I was younger and not nearly as powerful and suave as I am now. What's your name?"

This was it. Rhys was going to give the weirdo his name, and said weirdo would then use it to track Rhys down at leisure and murder him horribly whenever and however he liked. Rhys bitterly bemoaned the fact that his will was mostly composed of giving his TV to Vaughn and lunch money to Yvette. While it sounded like a hilarious idea at the time, it didn't seem nearly as funny when Rhys was practically staring death in the face- er arm. Rhys's bottom lip popped out as he finally came to terms with his impending doom.

"Rhys. My name is Rhys."

The other man repeated Rhys's name few times as if testing out how it tasted in his mouth. Or committing it to memory so he could hunt Rhys down and kill him in his sleep.

A loud commotion to Rhys's right caught his attention as Vasquez's booming laughter seemed to fill the room. The arm on his shoulder quickly rescinded and a palm was placed on his back. An amused "Go get 'im, tiger." was Rhys's only warning before he was launched, forced by the hand on his back. Rhys stumbled forward, bumping into a few people and earning many glares. He whirled around in a last ditch effort to see the identify of the strange man. If Rhys said he was completely surprised when he found two empty chairs, he would be lying. Rhys's eyebrows creased before he took off towards the source of Vasquez's laughter. Sure, the whole experience was really fucking weird and would definitely keep Rhys more than a little paranoid for the next couple of nights, but Rhys had bigger fish to fry right now. Rhys grinned as he booted up his ECHO eye, already loving the pictures he was going to get of Vasquez.

Who knew Vasquez went commando?