I just watched Kingsman: The Golden Circle last night and had to write down this one-shot immediately before I forget about it. All grammar mistakes are my fault because I'm sleepy and a bit distracted. I don't know too much of British and American culture so forgive me if I have some mistakes there to. In any case, enjoy!
Forgive the thumbnail, couldn't find anything else.
"You're being reassigned."
The words echoed, bouncing off her ears with no comprehension. Holograms of the other Kingsmen seemed nothing more than a blurry visage in the corner of her eye as they faded from view.
Winter blinked. "I'm sorry... What?"
Ironwood sighed, straightening himself in his seat and fixing his tie with a gloved hand. Despite nearing past his forties and with streaks of gray lining his hair, James Ironwood still commanded authority whenever he entered a room. Be it with business partners or colleagues, he exhibited a certain amount of presence that just demanded attention. Handling the head affairs of the Kingsman tailor shop for nearly a decade could do that to a man.
"You're being reassigned, Gawain," he repeated slowly. "Your skills, while remarkably exceptional in our field here in London, can yield far better results elsewhere. This is nothing permanent, mind you. We're merely providing our aide in the West."
No, this can't be happening. "But sir, I– permission to speak freely?"
Ironwood inclined his head. "This isn't the army anymore, Winter. You don't need my permission to speak your mind."
"Apologies, Arthur. But surely there is someone else best suited for this role? Percival or Galahad are better experienced than I am on dealing with matters in a different state. Their stations are far closer, which gives them an advantage in proceeding with this mission immediately.
"Perhaps, but thankfully this mission isn't lacking for time or speed. And you're by far the better negotiator than them once you keep a calm face. Your position here as a Kingsman may be new but sometime soon you'll be given high-priority missions, most likely centered overseas. You need to establish connections of your own which can provide useful in your future endeavors. We Kingsman can only do so much without help, after all."
Winter bit her lip, considering. What Ironwood said made sense. She was one of the newer Kingsman agents, recruited only a year ago after completing her training during the initiation. Since then, most of her missions solely focused on dealing with situations in England, allowing her to travel all across the country. Barely managing to balance the time visiting her younger sister in Atlas with her other duties as a Kingsman.
However, this assignment could further elevate her experience. Which could gather her more recognition among her fellow peers in the agency who still see her as nothing more than an upstart heiress with something to prove, leaving the comfortable reaches of her family fortune to pursue a different path.
Thoughts of her family provided a sudden realization that pierced through her thoughts. "Arthur, this isn't because of what my father has done, is it?"
Ironwood's face remained impassive, but his eyes betrayed him. "Not exactly. A few of our fellow Kingsman approached me about the issue but it didn't affect the rationality of this assignment. I've had it planned months prior to what happened. What Jacques does in his business ventures does not reflect you or the beliefs of this organization," he stated firmly.
Despite the reassurances, Winter couldn't help but silently curse her father and the situation he placed their family in. Forcing manual labor on fellow employees into uncovering this new vein of minerals discovered in one of the Schnee Mining Company's drilling locations found in Northern Italy. The discovery of an unidentified mineral property along with the news of forced manual labor has taken the media outlets by storm.
Sensing her discomfiture, Ironwood's face softened. "It also might be beneficial for you and to this agency if you take a step back from your duties here as a Kingsman." A sudden look of alarm crossed her face, and he raised his palm in a placating gesture before she could speak. "I'm not implying a suspension. Merely suggesting that I relocate your duties in a more controlled environment where you can hone your skills and improve relations with the people there while the situation here in England cools down.
"Perhaps I should give you time to think about it," he added gently. "Have the rest of the day to yourself. You can provide me with an answer tomorrow."
Winter remained silent for the longest time, her face retaining the cold mask of indifference she managed to perfect during her various etiquette classes. But her mind warred with itself, dictating logic against emotion and other sentimental thoughts. Finally, her thoughts stilled as she came to a conclusion.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes once more, hearing snippets of conversation about the meeting in her head, seeing Weiss's face again.
"I accept, Arthur. When will I be leaving?"
For a moment, Ironwood kept a contemplative glance on his face before nodding to himself. "You leave at oh-eight-hundred hours. Merlin will have you prepped and provided with a plane ticket to Kentucky. I'll contact my Statesman counterpart and inform him of your arrival. Have the rest of the day off to ready yourself. Perhaps you can teach our American cousins a thing or two about punctuality."
Winter nodded and stood up, saluting to him. Old habits. "At once, sir. I'll do my best to uphold our reputation."
"I have no doubt you will, Gawain."
~K~
"Welcome to Statesman, Miss Gawain."
Winter glanced around well-furnished office, noting the impressive variety of alcoholic beverages lined up at the shelves on each corner of the room that serve as the symbolic front of their agency, including their source of revenue. She thought she looked out of place in her gray pinstriped suit and blue blouse compared to the homely, blasé lodgings of the Statesman office.
In her left hand she smoothed the chestnut-wood handle of the standard umbrella that most of her fellow agents are accustomed to using in case of provocation and unfavorable heat.
The man seated behind the long table in front of her smiled. A high-crowned, wide-brimmed hat sat over his silver tousled hair which shone in the sunlight much like her own, giving way to sharp facial features and a light complexion. Light, brown eyes hid behind dark spectacles, completing his dark appearance with a green scarf around the neck, a gray crossed pinned at the front of the garment.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," she bowed slightly. "Arthur spoke very highly of you and your work."
"The pleasure is mine, miss. Please, call me Champagne or 'Champ' if you prefer." The Statesman leader insisted. "I can say that Arthur speaks the very same of you. One of his rising new recruits, I believe."
Winter couldn't help but be pleased that Ironwood mentioned her in positive regard. "Yes, sir. I am."
"Excellent. You'll do well in your stay here in America. Your skills will be put to good use among our agents here. I see you've already met my second-in-command and our tech support, Ginger Ale." He gestured towards a stern-looking woman on his right.
The blonde-haired woman wore a white long-sleeved, pleated top beneath a dark purple vest and gauntlet cuffs that flare in pleats at the wrist. Her lower body is covered by a black high-waisted pencil skirt with bronze buttons and black-brown stockings. Bright, green eyes peered at her through thin ovular glasses. She gave her a small nod.
"I did some research on the history of your agency during my flight to Kentucky," Winter remarked, returning her gaze to Champagne. "Your founder was an impressive man to completely start this business on his own after the Civil War. Even the founders of our agency required several well-acquainted people to invest in it before it became a serious organization. I'm sure his current successor embodies the same admirable qualities he exhibited towards his fellow agents back in his time."
Champagne gave her a slight smile. "A bit extensive in your search but I'm pleased that you're already familiar with our goals and ideals. Though I would say I represent a lot more similar qualities to our founder than just his beliefs, compared to my predecessors that is," he added cryptically.
Winter didn't really understand the reference, but it seems Ginger did since she shot her superior an unamused stare at his apparent choice of words. Champ ignored her and continued to chuckle to himself.
Before he could speak again, Ginger leaned over and whispered to his ear. Champ nodded, his face losing a bit of humor as he straightened in his seat. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Gawain. But I must forestall our conversation for now. It appears I am needed in another matter. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."
Winter shook her head. "None at all, sir. I'm sure it's important."
"Indeed it is." He nodded over her shoulder. "Please let one of my men accompany you to your hotel. I'm sure you have brought a lot with you and need help in bringing to your rooms. It's the least I can do for my abrupt exit."
In truth, Winter brought only a pair of bags as her luggage. She was fit to hand carry the one and drag the other to her hotel rooms by herself, but refusing would be impolite.
"You sure she needs it, Champ? She looks like the kind of girl who'd bring her own butler with her." A raspy voice behind her spoke aloud.
Winter turned to meet pale, red eyes glancing at her in a guarded manner. Its owner was an older man, with black spiky hair framed under a dark wide-brimmed hat similar to that of Champagne, a rough stubble across his jawline. He wore a grey and black long-sleeved button shirt, a crooked cross necklace hanging above the unbuttoned collar and sleeves rolled up above his elbows, secured altogether by a flask attached to the belt buckle.
"Gawain, this is one of our seasoned agents and a personal friend of mine. Whiskey, this is our transferee from the Kingsman tailor shop in London. She was recommended by a mutual friend of ours."
Whiskey's head turned to him at that, eyebrows raised in disbelief. His gaze returned to her, now filled with a hint of interest and amusement.
"You sure you can handle yourself around here, newbie? This ain't some dainty walk in the park like what you and your boss do back at home."
A flair of annoyance suddenly overcame her at his implied insult over their lifestyle and her superior officer. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Mr. Whiskey," she said tightly.
He smirked at her, as if pleased at garnering a reaction. "Sure you can, newbie."
"Whiskey will be your guide in the duration of your stay here, and he will also be your shadow and partner during missions."
Winter's head snapped to Champagne at the latter remark, her mouth gaping. "Sir, I mean no disrespect but I can handle a mission on my own well enough. I don't need a partner."
Champagne stopped by the door, leaning heavily on his cane. "That may be so, Gawain. But things around here function a bit differently compared to what you're used to in London. Whiskey will be able to guide you through those facets and will also act as your supervisor on missions. He will report to me on your performance and how skilled you really are."
"I..." Winter seemed a loss for words. She hasn't had a partner since her initiation months and the time when she accompanied a fellow Kingsman on a joint mission. She did fine well enough on both occasions, but she had an uncertain feeling about her current placement of a partner.
"I think I made myself clear enough?" Champagne asked rhetorically. "Well, I'll see you later. Have a nice day, ladies and gentlemen," he said as he limped away and disappeared around a corner.
Ginger Ale gave her own farewell before exiting through a different door in the room. Leaving her with Whiskey.
"Looks like you and I are going to spend a lot of time together," Whiskey remarked as he turned and led the way out of the distillery.
Her brow furrowed and her chin jerked upwards into a frown. "Apparently so."
~S~
Winter sat stiffly in her seat as they drove the nearest hotel about a mile away.
Whiskey sat by the wheel, occasionally glancing over to her side to check the side mirror and turning the tuner on the radio.
It wasn't by means an unpleasant trip, but neither feigned to start a conversation. Winter was well drained of energy after an eleven-hour flight with terrible airplane food and a stiff back from sitting upright for hours. She groaned. Right now, all she wanted was to lie down in her bed and forget about the day.
"You're not all what I expected."
She turned at the sound coming from her partner, a tired brow raised in question. "And what do you mean by that?"
Whiskey shrugged, gaze not turning away from the front view of the car, hands shifting idly around the steering wheel.
"It's not everyday you meet a Schnee."
If Winter had been exhausted before, it all vanished into alarm as she digested the meaning behind the Stateman's words. She glanced at him swiftly, meeting a pair of amused eyes before returning his gaze on the road.
"How did you know?" she asked, disbelief flashed across her face.
She made a number of alternatives to cover up her identity before leaving London. Merlin provided her with a fake passport and ID, along with various credit cards linked to a private account that couldn't be traced to her or the agency. Part of her inclusion in Kingsman meant most of her identification photos across the internet were deleted to ensure that personal information won't be disclosed to their enemies. She even decided to wear casual clothing befit of a traveling tourist arriving in America. Her normal hair style was changed into a more comforting braid, letting it flow around her shoulders. She only changed attire when she arrived at the Statesman Headquarters.
Also, the Schnee names isn't entirely well-known to most people outside England, at least not in the mining industry.
"I'll admit, you're not the first I've met around who has white hair. Champ has a bit more color than yours, and it's popular in some of these parts. But I thought I'd know the face of Winter Schnee from anywhere."
Winter waited, but no response came. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Are you going to tell me how you knew?"
Whiskey smirked at her. "Now why would I do that?"
"It's only fair," Winter protested. How dare this man find out about her identity and not have the decency to tell her how. "You know my name and I don't even know yours. At least you could tell me how you came across this information before meeting me."
"Sorry, Ice Queen. Can't tell you that. If I were to show you all my tricks this early, where would be the fun in that?"
Ice Queen? she thought, indignant.
At that moment, Winter found herself tired all of a sudden. As if the day's proceedings haven't drained her enough, now she has to deal with a mysterious partner with unknowing intentions regarding her identity. That bottle of whiskey in the back gifted to her by Champagne looked more promising than ever with the state she's currently in. Leaning back on the headrest, she sighed and turned away from him, not wanting to see him bask in the satisfaction of getting the last word.
Because of that, she missed the lingering glances Whiskey shot at her during the remainder of the drive.
They arrived at the hotel soon enough, which was a modest five-story establishment with what appears to be a pool in the back and fake plastic palm trees surrounding outside the entrance doors. Whiskey offered to bring her things to her room after she spoke with the front desk. Normally, Winter would decline and do the task herself but instead she just nodded.
Arriving at her room, Winter felt ready enough to drop dead on her bed and rather not wake up until the next election. But she had to retain some form of dignity next to the Statesman, so she stood on stiff legs by the door tried to sort her keycard despite the drowsiness she felt.
Whiskey remained silent by her side, hands tucked in his pockets. Idly, she wondered why he didn't just leave. His presence was the last thing she needed right now even though she was thankful for the help.
Finally, after several tries she managed to unlock the door. She wheeled her luggage in and dropped her bag by the couch. She was halfway into deciding on sleeping by the couch and use her bag as a pillow when she realized Whiskey was still outside her left open door. Fighting the urge to snap for him to leave, she trudged herself towards the door. Leaning by the edge of the door frame, she met his gaze once more.
In all honesty, Winter was ready to forget this entire ordeal just so she can make it through the night without a headache. She'd deal with the fallout in the morning before she can say anything else that would incriminate her.
She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by his gravely voice.
"Qrow."
Winter blinked.
The silence went by for several minutes before she found her voice to speak. "What?"
He wasn't looking at her directly, staring at the plainly decorated wall as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. "The name's Qrow. Qrow Branwen."
And with that, he turned abruptly and left for the elevator. Winter thought he could feel the weight of her gaze staring holes in the back of his as he walked away from her room.
"Catch ya later, Schnee," he said over his shoulder, waving a lazy hand in farewell.
Winter watched him until he disappeared from view. "Until we meet again, Qrow Branwen," she muttered quietly to herself.
She turned around and entered her room, resigning herself to a full day tomorrow of dealing with her eccentric partner.
I just couldn't help myself after finding out that Statesman agents were named after liquor and have a belt buckle that doubles as a flask. Qrow would have a field day with this.
Feel free to borrow this idea if any other fanfic writer is interested. Coincidentally, the tailor shop Kingsman was based on is apparently called Huntsman. world-of-huntsman/kingsman/#/quicklinks
Go figure.
If any artist out there can make fanart of Kingsman Winter and Statesman Qrow, I would be so happy. Feel free to envision Qrow and Ozpin with a cowboy hat as well.