AN: This is a loose continuation of A Civilian Matter, but it doesn't need to be read to understand this. It's mostly just Spartan family fluff and Fred/Veta antics anyway. Enjoy!
He had made a grave tactical error in his decision to humour the Inspector.
Fred only came to this realisation until it was too late. His boots—shoes—hit smooth pavement as he exited their cab and took in the city of Camil. The noise of street cars, of civilians speaking, of traffic lights, of everything hit him all at once, and the door of the cab closing behind them signaled that he had no place to rendezvous back to in case he needed a few minutes of quiet to think.
"Got everything?" Lopis asked behind him, even though the cab was already driving off.
"Yes." The ID pad, credit chit and transit pass she'd given him were a distracting weight in his back left pocket, and the small knife he'd convinced her to let him take felt far too inadequate tucked into his sock.
"And you remember how to use the transit pass?" She came to a stop beside him, looking out at the busy intersection he'd been taking in. "It's a little outdated, but you can't expect much on a small colony."
He focused on what she was saying in order to distract himself, and managed an amused glance in her direction. "I think I can handle it, Mom."
The response he received was more than he could have hoped for—the glare she gave him was downright frigid, even as she had to tilt her head back to look him in the face. "No. You are not allowed to call me that."
"'Allowed'?" he repeated, arching a brow. "I wasn't aware—"
She held a hand up to cut him off. "Nuh-uh. I'm your boss right now, as we've already established, so consider that a standing order." Lopis cleared her throat and pulled up a map on her watch. "Tram is half a kilometre west of where we are right now. We should move if we want to catch it."
He checked his own chronometer. "It's only fourteen-oh-eight. Tram doesn't come for another twenty minutes." She did have short legs, but even then, it shouldn't take that long to navigate the city, surely. The route she's mapped for them wasn't all that complicated, either.
"Can't rely on the schedule. And it's two-oh-eight, not fourteen," she corrected him, leading the way down the sidewalk. Then what is the point of the schedule? he wondered, but decided it would be better to save his breath. The noise of other pedestrians around them was so intense it would have made it impossible for him to even hear her speak had they not been wearing a comm at his ear. "Remember the briefing."
Yes, the damn briefing. Where they'd bombarded him with so much civvie-speak that he'd requested a manual to keep track of it. "Old habits," he said. "And more accurate."
"More conspicuous, too," Veta countered, pausing at a stop light. "And you're conspicuous enough as it is."
"I feel like a fashion model," he muttered, pulling at the cuffs of his jacket. "This seems like overkill."
"Nice humblebrag there, Fred." The light turned and they began to move again. His attention switched from the conversation to trying to keep within the walkway lines on the road, but the crowd had other plans, and he was quickly brushing up against stopped cars. Even with people giving him more space than seemed appropriate, he still felt caged in. He'd never seen so many damn people, or a crowd so disorganised.
When the Inspector's comment finally registered, he looked down to Lopis to ask her what the hell she meant. Finding her no longer by his side, he felt a spike of panic when he realised she was no longer in sight.
"Lopis?" he whispered into his comm as he got to the other side of the crosswalk. He stopped at the curb only to be jostled around by impatient elbows, and stepped over to stand beside the window front of a store. "Lopis, rep—where are you?" he corrected himself, scanning the crowd. It was difficult to pick out individual features, even from his vantage point. It was almost like a singular mass as opposed to a group of people for how chaotic it seemed—everyone moved in different directions with no apparent order or structure besides the obvious desire to not run into one another.
He waited eleven seconds for her to respond, and getting nothing, his chest constricted. This was a no-contact training exercise, so they'd been told to expect no threats. I did this with the Gammas before they began their proper Ferret training at the Mill, she'd told him. Give them a taste of civilian urban life to see how they coped with it.
Another arena to train in and conquer. Framing it like that had made the excursion less daunting, but he hadn't expected or prepared to complete it alone. Their objective was to walk the city streets and arrive near the Lakefront in Old Town Camil by 1500 as an exercise to help socially integrate him, as Lopis had put it. He knew, theoretically, how to get there, but the practical implications of navigating through endless streams of people made it significantly more complicated. Maybe that was why Lopis wanted to leave so early for the tram.
He clicked his mic several times as he pulled up the map they both had, and saw the train stop marked in red. Because it was a civilian map, it gave no indication of where or how the crowd was moving, and so he had to wade through it in the dark. The niggling panic in the pit of his stomach came on with a sudden intensity that made him feel that much less prepared, but he couldn't wait around all day for Lopis to suddenly reappear.
Where the hell did she go?
The crosswalk cycled through twice before he mustered the resolve to begin walking again. The goal was the tram stop. He could focus on arriving at that point, and Lopis would know to follow.
"You guys there yet?" Veta ducked behind someone holding an umbrella as she saw Fred's head turn, ghosting the civilian until he looked in another direction.
"Been at the pub for ten minutes already," Mark replied. "Sure you don't want us to order you guys some food? I can send you the menu."
"He just wants an excuse to eat," Olivia interrupted. "We're fine where we are. How's Big Blue?"
Veta smiled to herself. She almost wished Fred was within earshot of their conversation; it would be nice to get some revenge for his earlier use of the Gamma's nickname on her. "Distracted and twitchy. He was surprisingly easy to slip away from." The back of his head was easily visible above the crowd, and even though she couldn't see his face, he was doing a poor job of hiding how tense he was. "But he's a big boy. I'm sure he'll figure it out."
Olivia made a sound of sympathy into the mic. "Keep us updated. And don't let him get too panicked."
Veta refrained from saying something smart back. She could appreciate how difficult navigating the civilian world would be for Spartans, and Olivia was just looking out for her sibling. But she couldn't let Fred off the hook so easily. Prepping Spartans for undercover roles was nothing short of a Herculean task, and he wouldn't learn anything with her leading him around by the nose—no matter how much Fred would have preferred it that way.
And besides, she couldn't let him clue in to what the Gammas had planned for them at the bar.
"Well, I'm ordering a round for everyone while you guys wander the city," Ash responded. "They have that nice fruit cider you let us try before, and I want Kelly and Linda to try it."
"We're fine with waiting," Linda interjected.
"I don't have a problem with it, so long as it's just one round," Veta cautioned, and muted her mic as the chorus of yes Mom's came chiming into her ear.
Eight minutes and sixteen seconds, and Lopis was still nowhere to be found.
He was currently attempting to isolate her comm signal so that he could track it and finally get some sort of idea of where the hell she'd gone, but the smartwatch on his wrist could only work so fast, and there was a lot of comm traffic in a city this large. So he kept walking, ignoring the staring as much as he could. It wasn't quite as bad as it usually was while he was on tour, so he supposed the outfit Lopis had forced him into was working.
Not that he'd ever tell her that.
Old lessons about city planning Déjà had taught them on Reach surfaced as he moved past civilians and ignored any awed children pointing in his direction. The invention and subsequent public availability of personal flight craft changed how cities had been built for centuries, Déjà had told them. Smaller colonies like this one that couldn't afford the infrastructure to support high volumes of flyers bore echoes of old automobile land use with wide roads framed by pedestrian sidewalks. It meant there were a great deal of amenities accessible at ground level as opposed to on large landing decks high above. Ground access also provided frontline military personnel with far more available cover to launch surprise assaults and hide from retaliations when defending invaded colonies. Although the threat of an imminent Covenant invasion was very slim at the moment, it gave Fred some sense of comfort to know he had the option of breaking into a cafe and using its steel storefront for cover if needed.
Though it would be a shame to have to damage shops as nice as the ones he was passing. He'd never had the pleasure of being in a city that hadn't been glassed over. The flashing ads and loud noise were distractions he'd prefer not to deal with, but it was nothing if not interesting.
The entrance to the underground tram became visible as he moved through the city and cased nearby businesses. He clicked his mic again, annoyed now more than he was nervous about Lopis' random disappearance. The possibility of her being interfered with by an unknown third party wasn't out of the picture, and if he were to indulge in a bit of paranoia, he could consider that as a legitimate reality, but it felt like he'd gotten the hang of—
"See you made it."
He wouldn't have been able to pick out her voice above the din of pedestrians talking, but Lopis' accent registered directly in his ear dot. It took a not inconsiderable amount of will to stop himself from whirling around to get a visual on her. He kept moving instead, only allowing himself a short exhale of relief.
"See you finally decided to continue with the mission," he muttered back, avoiding eye contact with someone who frowned at him. Dammit, he had to be more discrete.
God, he missed his helmet.
"Just wanted to see how you'd react to a little solo navigation," she said, and he heard the damn grin in her voice. "All part of the training."
His jaw clenched. "Did I pass?"
"You did better than Mark." Veta appeared at his elbow without warning. He stopped himself from glaring at her. He wouldn't give her that victory. "Ready to keep going?"
"Always."
"Good." She patted his arm, which he barely felt over top of the coat and sweater he was wearing. "We'll be on time then. Let's go, Big Blue." She took off again ahead of him, leaving him to catch up and wonder how in the hell someone her size could move so fast.
"You have your transit pass?"
"You already asked me that." Fred pulled at the collar of the cream fisherman's sweater he'd been forced to wear and looked down the train tunnel. "Tram's late."
"Always is." Lopis inspected the crowd of pedestrians gathered loosely around the tram stop from beneath her sunglasses. Fred was hiding it well, but she could tell the volume of people around irritated him.
Fred shot her a puzzled look, but didn't the press the issue. He opted instead to readjust the buttons at his jacket's cuffs and look horribly uncomfortable, and Veta couldn't deny she took just a little bit of pleasure at seeing him out of his element. From the civilian cut of his hair, to the jeans, polished shoes and leather jacket, to the piercing eyes under well-groomed eyebrows, he could actually have been a fashion model, as he'd complained earlier. It didn't exactly make him less conspicuous than walking around in Mjolnir would, but he could at least pass for a rich, extremely buff tourist in his current get-up.
Which, well, was the whole point of this exercise. As long as he—"Stop fidgeting," she whispered to him. He'd switched his attention to the watch around his wrist, playing with the dial.
He moved closer to her in order to complain about his outfit without being overheard. "This watch is slow," he muttered, barely above a whisper. "And the jacket is tight in the shoulders."
"It's supposed to be," she said back. "That's the style."
"Pointless."
"Sometimes you don't need to be—" She paused as a woman walked by them, waiting until she sat down on the nearby bench. "Need to be ready for the world ending."
He shrugged and glared at the tunnel again, tapping his foot.
However amusing it was, she supposed he'd survived this long counting on that to be an ongoing inevitability. Deciding not to dwell on that, she bumped his elbow with a shoulder. "Besides, you do look stylish."
Fred blew breath out of his nose, not quite a laugh. "I'm glad you're enjoying this so much," he said, not bothering to respond to her compliment.
"Better than being miserable about it," she said pointedly, and he gave her a smirk that looked startlingly sly. It always surprised her how expressive he was, but she figured—
"Finally," he muttered, and she turned her attention to the tram pulling up to the curb. People began to swarm to the entrances, and Veta shuffled closer to Fred in order to not be jostled away from him.
"You remember how to use the pass?" she whispered, and he gave her an amused look.
"Of course, Mom."
The glare she levelled him was less effective when she had to tilt her head to a near ninety-degree angle just to look at him, but she did her best. "What the hell did we just talk ab—" Someone bumped hard into her, and she grabbed onto Fred's bicep to keep herself from slamming into him. He let her steady herself, mouth hardening into a thin line in open distaste at how chaotic the crowd was.
"This is insane," he muttered, taking a step toward the tram. No one bumped into him, she thought in annoyance, and people even afforded him a small berth of space. Regardless of how well he was dressed, the paleness of his skin and hardness in his eyes was enough to make people uneasy. You can take the Spartan out of combat, but not the combat out of the—
"Come on," he said, grabbing her elbow and making a path to the door. He had to tuck his head and shoulders in to clear the doorway, but they finally got onto the train. She tapped her pass on the console at the front and waited until Fred did the same, and then looked to find a seat.
There weren't any.
She pushed in front of him and walked down the narrow aisles, and Fred followed closely behind. The tight space made him appear impossibly large; Veta herself was having a difficult time navigating between the packed bodies, but Fred seemed to dance through them with the same efficient grace she'd seen in the Gammas.
"Here," she said over her shoulder, and tucked herself into a pocket of open space near the middle of the tram. Fred ducked under a support bar and stood beside her, head tucked close to his chest and arms constricted to his sides. "And relax, we're making good time."
"I am." He turned his head so that an ear was pointing over his shoulder, and his eyes followed the endless shuffle of feet. She saw his lips move as he murmured to himself, and she picked out words like exit and window.
"You look like a coiled snake," she whispered. He arched a brow at her.
"What the hell is a snake?"
"You don't know what a snake is?"
He shook his head, unconcerned, and then looked out of the window. The tram began to move, forcing her to grab onto a support pole to steady herself. "I'll brief you on that when we get to the bar."
He looked back at her, frowning in suspicion. "What bar?"
She wasn't really supposed to tell him until they were already inside the restaurant, but he was looking a little cagey and she figured she'd give him something to distract himself. "It's our destination."
His head swung down to meet her at eye level, his face close enough that she could see the fine crow's feet pulling at the edges of his eyes, which were narrowed in deep mistrust. "You said the Lakefront was our destination," he whispered furiously.
"It's located in the Lakefront strip," she explained, shuffling a small step back. It was enough to make him notice the woman staring at them from across the aisle. He got the message, drawing back up to a less menacing position but still scowling at her.
"And you didn't think to tell me this?"
"I'm telling you now."
He let out an exasperated sigh and muttered something about never getting proper intel, glowering back out at the window. She bit back a smile and patted his hand, which had a white-knuckle grip on the pole above her head. He flinched at the contact, but didn't retreat. "It's just a simple walking tour with a meal at the end of it, really."
"Forgive me if I don't believe you." He pressed himself flush against the wall of the tram as someone tried to shove past them, reminding Veta of a lion stuck in a zoo. Her Gammas lamented frequently about how little they got to use their SPI armour anymore, and it looked like Fred was a little homesick for his own Mjolnir.
"That's your choice." She coughed into her arm once, signalling for Olivia to begin ordering food. She covered it by bracing herself against the support pole as the tram stopped to offload passengers. "We won't be long anyway. Not that many stops to make," she said to Fred. He nodded but didn't say anything, eyes glued to the window. She realised then that he was using the reflection to watch the crowd while also trying to be as inconspicuous as he could in a narrow train with ceilings a foot too low to accommodate his height. She stepped closer to him, brushing up against his arm as her previous standing spot was immediately taken up by another passenger. "Are you alright?"
His eyes darted to her. "I'm fine."
"I've never known you to pass up a chance to complain."
"I don't—" He clenched his jaw and looked away. "It's just a train ride. I'll be fine."
"It's my job to ask."
He shrugged a shoulder, shooting her a strained smile. "It's your job to tell me where we're going, too."
"Hah! There's the complaining again." She smacked his arm, making him flinch again. "I'm glad to hear it."
He maintained his sour expression, but some of the tension drained from his shoulders, and he didn't look quite so uneasy now. She wondered if all Spartans responded to flippant jabs as well as Fred and the Gammas did. She was well used to doing damage control for anxious teenagers by now, but she was glad to know she could employ the same tactics on Fred.
"What's waiting at the bar for us?" he asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.
"A hot meal," she responded carefully.
He didn't buy it for a second. "Okay. Who is waiting at the bar for us?"
She grinned. "I'm afraid that is classified."
Technically, Olivia had only eaten four fries off of Veta's plate.
"You can go ahead and eat your food," Kelly told her again, mopping up sauce from her own plate with a sweet potato fry. "You said they'd both be here soon anyway."
"It's polite to wait," Ash explained next to her, fidgeting in his seat and staring at the mound of nachos in front of him. "Or at least, that's what the Inspector told us."
Kelly shrugged and popped another fry into her mouth.
"We really should," Linda said, even though she was halfway through her wrap. "No fun sitting here watching other people eat."
"And it's polite," Ash reminded them. Kelly nudged him with a foot under the table.
"Nonsense. Fred would be doing the same thing if we were the ones walking around downtown."
"I hope he's okay," Olivia said, taking a sip of the cider Ash had ordered for everyone. "Lopis said he was looking a little twitchy." She remembered the first time Veta took them out in public. Chaotic and overwhelming had been her two big takeaway impressions, and she knew Fred would have a similarly difficult time dealing with chaos in a way that didn't involve using a gun.
"We don't want a repeat of the Mark Incident," Ash muttered, and received an additional kick under the table from Mark.
"It wasn't an incident."
"Well then what do you call a physical altercation that forces Lopis to fill out an incident report form?"
"It's called civilians have no concept of personal space," Mark shot back. He'd taken his cues from Kelly and Linda, and had nearly finished off his plate already.
Ash smirked over at Olivia, obviously believing he'd won the argument, and took a triumphant gulp of cider to congratulate himself. Olivia rolled her eyes and check her chronometer again.
"Oh, they should be coming in now," she reported to the table, seeing the tracking dot from Lopis' and Fred's comms move through the front door of the bar.
"Good," Kelly said. "You can stop fidgeting and dig in now."
"Not until they're here and sitting down," Ash said, earning a frown from Kelly. He frowned back. "They made us take a test on social etiquette, okay? I'm not making it up."
"Whatever you say."
Olivia saw Veta come into view, followed closely by Fred. She waved at Lopis who grinned at her and ushered them both over to the table. "They're coming," Olivia announced, and everyone turned to look at the incoming pair.
"Glad you guys finally made it," Mark said. "We were starving."
Lopis passed a look between Mark and his now-empty plate. "I see that." She stopped short of Linda's chair and turned to look over her shoulder. Fred seemed caught between relief and annoyance as he took everything in, finally settling on the former when Kelly gave him a familiar smile.
"Surprise," she said, pulling the seat out beside her. "Congrats on surviving the wilds of Camil."
He sat down, the chair creaking heavily, and passed a measured look around the table before looking at Lopis. "Why didn't you tell me everyone else was doing the same training?"
Veta sat down in the corner beside Olivia, stealing a sip of her cider. "They weren't. We just had Blue Team come down to celebrate you completing the first round of your social integration fieldwork."
"Sounds like you did alright," Linda said on his other side. "And Ash ordered cider to celebrate."
"It's really good. Way better than beer." Ash shot a pleading look over Olivia's shoulder at Lopis, who motioned to him with an amused grin. That was all it took for him to begin devouring his food—politely, of course.
"It was their idea," Lopis said to Fred, nodding to the Gammas lining the chairs beside her. "I didn't want to spoil the surprise."
Fred finally cracked a small grin. "So it was actually classified."
"Scout's honour."
Kelly pushed her glass toward him. "Now relax. And try that, it's good."
Olivia watched Kelly goad him into taking a sip, and then turned to the Inspector. "Does that mean the Lieutenant will be going on missions with us now?" she whispered.
Veta shrugged. "Not sure. Os liked the progress I've made with you three and wanted to see if that could be replicated with the others. She didn't tell me why though, so it's anyone's guess." Veta took another sip of Olivia's drink and grinned at her. "It's pretty fun herding you guys all around the city though, so I hope so."
Olivia bumped her in the shoulder and picked at the veggies on her plate. "I stole some of your fries, by the way."
"Guess I'll have to drink your cider, then. I do appreciate you and Ash waiting, though. You two get bonus points."
"Hear 'at, Mark?" Ash said around a mouthful of food, picking up on their sidebar conversation. "Bonus points!"
"Not if you talk with your mouth full." Lopis reached around Olivia to smack him, but he was too fast and ducked away directly into Mark.
"Whatever you say, Mom." He shoved another nacho into his mouth as Mark pushed him away. Olivia ignored them and looked back at Fred, relieved to see him sitting back in his chair and looking more relaxed. He noticed her looking and met her eye. Olivia made a circle motion with her index finger, raising a brow. Fred responded back with a loose raise of his thumb, understanding her meaning. She grinned and returned to her fries. Now that she knew everyone was okay, she could finally begin to eat her own dinner.
