Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue or any of the show's characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.
Chapter Two: Fateful Encounter
Richard "Dick" Simmons could scarcely believe his shitty luck. The guy who had nearly been run over in the stampede caused by the other Reds and their rivals the Blues was the very same asshole who had spilled all of that coffee on him in the morning. Sure Valhalla was a small as fuck military town, but the redhead still viewed this as the universe's twisted joke. He fucking knew the universe was out to get him. Here was his proof!
The coffee spilling jackass seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Simmons as the heavyset man in orange rubbed the back of his head and laughed, "Small world, right?"
If the question was somehow meant to blow over what had happened between them earlier, it didn't work. The man's dark eyes lingered on the still present coffee stains, mocking the once pristine maroon sweater vest ensemble Simmons had put together specifically for today.
Simmons' green eyes narrowed in annoyance, and he couldn't help but let out an abrupt "Tsk!" under his breath as he headed towards the doors to the now full training hall. Everyone else had already clustered into groups inside the designated meeting space.
"Well, this day is off to a great fucking start." Simmons couldn't help but overhear the coffee spilling man mutter lazily behind him.
Simmons angled his head so he could see out of the corner of his green-eyed gaze that the orange-wearing stranger was still rubbing the back of his head apathetically, a gesture that clearly proved he didn't really give a fuck what was going on there. Everything about the chubby man seemed to indicate he was just going through the motions. Simmons found himself annoyed all over again, and moved his gaze so that he could see the others in the room.
His eyes first landed on Tex, a mercenary and former Freelancer, talking to both Caboose and Church, two of the Blues. Tex always made him uneasy, although the truth was that the blonde terrified the shit out of everyone in the ASS Building whenever she visited it. She paused briefly to smirk at Simmons, an act that caused the redheaded man to blanch and quickly look elsewhere. The black-armored woman always seemed to get a rise out of making him squirm.
A bored-looking Felix and an attentive Locus, two other infamous mercenaries at the base, were standing off to the side. Upon catching his eye, Felix mock-waved at Simmons. The action resulted in Simmons feeling even more nervous than he had before with Tex. If such a thing were possible. Which Simmons was guessing it was since Felix and Locus scared the shit out of him.
The maroon-wearing man quickly averted his gaze to find Donut on the other side of the large, expansive space. The younger man was talking animatedly with Tucker, another Blue, and Doc about something that apparently involved a lot of choreography. When his pink-wearing Red coworker noticed that Simmons was looking around out of sorts, he took pity on him and tried exuberantly waving the taller man over. Simmons frowned, not sure if he wanted to join them yet as a loud cry of "Simmons! Hey, Simmons! Over here!" erupted in a singsong voice. The redhead's face went warm in embarrassment, and he instantly moved his eyes elsewhere.
His eyes settled on Sarge and Doctor Grey in the midst of a conversation together. Their proximity was to be expected given how close the two had become recently, bonding as they had over future potential robotic surgeries and the like. It seemed that they had even managed to pull a reluctant Lopez and the Blues' android Sheila into the fray.
Simmons was about to go over to the group and see if there was anything that Sarge might need help with when a sudden frown appeared on the older man's face. For a split-second, Simmons feared that the disappointment on Sarge's face was somehow directed towards him. Simmons breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed that the Red Team leader's brown eyes were actually narrowed at something directly behind the redhead instead.
Simmons cautiously turned around, surprised to note that the man in orange from before had just lazily followed him as he traversed the training hall. The coffee spilling man was apparently aware of the glare being thrown his way, but seemed wholly unperturbed by the attention.
"What did you do to Sarge?" The question was past Simmons' lips before he could stop it, and he instantly regretted starting a conversation with the object of Sarge's wrath.
The tan-skinned man seemed slightly surprised that the lanky, coffee-stained redhead had deigned to talk to him, though he quickly covered it up with a lazy shrug, "Nothing." The heavyset man responded casually enough, "I used to work for the old coot before I realized he was bat-shit nuts and got transferred."
Simmons bristled at the choice of words, coming quickly to his superior's defense, "Sarge isn't crazy!"
The tan-skinned man raised an eyebrow in amusement, "Keep telling yourself that, kiss-ass."
However, before Simmons could respond, the Freelancer in cyan armor known as Agent Carolina disengaged herself from her discussion with her teammate, Agent Washington. Her green eyes swept over the training hall before she began to speak, assessing the people there. If her expression was anything to go by, Carolina was clearly not impressed.
"As soon as the Armonians arrive, we will begin the demonstration." Carolina's authoritative voice filled the entire training hall, "Until then, stay here and wait."
Leonard Church couldn't keep himself from rolling his eyes at the cyan-armored woman's proclamation, "This is such bullshit."
Unfortunately for Church, he was standing close enough to his older sister that she heard him. Green eyes turned to fix him with a regarding stare, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin and instinctively shield his balls.
"People who were late themselves shouldn't complain about anyone else's punctuality or lack thereof, Church." She stated evenly, the underlining tone of her voice one of agitation.
Okay, well…maybe that was true. But, Church could never not complain when given the opportunity to do so. It was like it was in his genetic code to be pissed off at the world or some shit. A genetic code that Carolina noticeably shared half of. He frowned, noting her stiff, uneasy posture and narrowed eyes.
"Are you okay?" Church asked in concern, "You seem mad. Madder than usual, I mean."
Carolina didn't snap out an "I'm fine!" like he halfway expected her to. Instead, she blinked in mild surprise at his statement and even made a bit of effort to try to relax her body language some. Church couldn't help but be in awe at how the redhead made "appear relaxed" look uncomfortable as hell.
"I'm more annoyed by the current situation than anything else, Church." Carolina noted at length before sharing a weak, sort-of smile at her sibling that looked incredibly painful but was no doubt meant to come across as reassuring, "I'll be fine once things get underway."
With that, she stalked off awkwardly to go back to where her partner, Washington, stood. Church shook his dark-haired head at what a terrible liar his sister was. She was almost as bad at that as she was at relaxing. Or singing. Or joking.
Tex noticed the lingering frown on Church's face as his eyes followed Carolina, "Give your sister a break this time, Church." The blonde advised him in a tone that was surprisingly gentler than he expected it would be coming from her, "Trying to play nice with some of the people who possibly helped take down your unit is a hard thing to do."
Church's frown only deepened at the reminder, "I fucking know that, Tex." He muttered, letting out a tired sigh, "I just hope she'll be all right."
Knowing Carolina? Even if she wasn't, she would try burying that hurt down so deeply with her work that even she probably wouldn't notice.
"Oh, it will be all right, Church!" Caboose exclaimed enthusiastically in an effort to help out his best friend, "Your scary-but-not-so-scary sister is a strong lady!"
Truthfully, Church couldn't really argue with Caboose's logic. Carolina certainly was strong. The problem was that she never wanted to be anything but that.
Donut's pestering finally managed to get Simmons' full attention following Carolina's announcement, though that had more to do with the redhead really not wanting to die on the spot from sheer embarrassment due to all of the "Simmons! Over here! Hey!" singsong shouts coming from across the training hall.
"Oh, good!" Donut remarked happily as he saw the redhead approach, "I wasn't sure you had heard me!"
Simmons had to bite back a remark about how he was fairly certain that the entire hall and even Valhalla beyond had heard the dirty blond-haired man's shouts. Thankfully, Doc beat him to talking first, "Good to see you made it, Simmons." Doc told him, tilting his head slightly to the side as his brown eyes regarded something behind the redhead, "Who's your new friend?"
Simmons spun around to see who Doc was referring to. Much to his growing chagrin, the man who had spilled coffee on him earlier and who had the audacity to insult Sarge, had followed Simmons like a bored puppy.
Before Simmons could respond with an appropriate "He's not my friend!" the orange-wearing man gave a lazy wave in response to the group's regard, "What's up?"
"Oh, cool. " Tucker said, clearly not minding the surprising add-on in the slightest, "You already know Grif."
"You two know each other?" Simmons asked, casting an inquisitive glance between the tan-skinned man apparently named Grif and Tucker.
He probably should have figured that would be the case. Tucker knew some weirdos. There was no way that the chubby man had been following Simmons around because he was interested in him. He was just heading towards one of the people he knew, who happened to be where Simmons ended up.
"Oh, yeah. We've been sort-of friends since when?" Tucker frowned in thought, "Our transfers here or some shit."
Grif nodded his head haphazardly, as if he was only slightly invested in the conversation, "Something like that."
"Dude, how's Kai?" Tucker inquired not a second later. Evidently the teal-wearing man was bored by whatever conversation he had been having with Donut and Doc before and relished the chance to talk with anyone else, even if that person was a lazy acquaintance who had an air of "I don't give a fuck" about him.
"Same old, same old. Still embarrassing the family." Grif couldn't help but smile slightly though, his brown eyes having a proud light in them that beamed behind the apathetic stare, "Her concert business is apparently doing well."
"Shit, dude, that's awesome!" Tucker exclaimed, and it seemed like there was a lot about the conversation that went over the heads of everyone else listening in since they didn't know who the hell the two men were talking about.
Grif shrugged indifferently to his comment, back to seemingly not giving a fuck, "How's Junior doing?"
The maroon-wearing man's ears perked up at the familiar name. At least Simmons knew who Junior was. Not only because he had met the boy on occasion, but also because Tucker's young son was one of the only children on the base.
Junior was the last clone to have been born in Valhalla at all, in fact.
"He's doing fucking great!" Tucker replied, beaming proudly at the chance to gush about his pride and joy more.
Despite only barely knowing Junior and having no fucking clue who "Kai" was, Simmons found himself listening in on the conversation as it continued with an odd sense of looming curiosity. He tried telling himself that it was only because there wasn't much else to do, unless he wanted to join in on Donut and Doc's discussion regarding the benefits of bathing salts. Which he didn't. At all.
The doors to the training hall finally opened once more, and the small group of Armonians made their grand entrance.
Simmons couldn't help but glance around at the surprised reactions from everyone else once the conversations going on around them had died down at the intrusion. Grif visibly stiffened nearby in particular. Not that he could blame the tan-skinned man as his own mouth gaped open in shock.
This was the Armonian delegation that would be residing here in Valhalla while peace talks were going on?
There was only a woman in tan armor with an ice-colored trim standing before them. She was surrounded by a bunch of teenagers in the tan armor of Armonia with various colored trims too, though the one with blue trim seemed as if he might be slightly older than the rest.
Before anyone could say anything potentially disruptive or stupid, Agent Carolina once again took charge of the situation by clearing her throat loudly to gain everyone's attention. "Good. Now, we can begin." She stated without preamble.
The so-called "demonstration" in the training hall? Well, it was more or less simply a showcase of all the various ways that the two Freelancers and the three mercenaries in their midst were capable of killing someone through either hand-to-hand combat or with a multitude of different weapons.
It was absolutely perfect for making Dexter Grif or any of the other "soldiers" watching feel wholly inadequate regarding their own skills by comparison. More importantly, Grif figured it served as a reminder to the Armonians about what the "elite" of Valhalla could do to help keep them in line during their stay here.
The kids who had surprisingly been assigned to the Armonian group didn't seem to catch on to this hidden message though. They watched the display in open-mouthed awe. They were around his sister's age. Grif tried not to think about what Kai could be up to in Blood Gulch right about now when he stared at them.
The message, however, had apparently not been lost on the dark-skinned older woman who had accompanied the teens. During the display Grif noticed something unreadable flash in her brown eyes, though she managed to school her expression into a polite frown all the same.
Evidently, during their stay here, the group of newcomers were going to be assigned to follow around either the Red or Blue Teams for "training and observational purposes." Basically, they were being given a pointless assignment. Considering what little everyone in those groups actually did that was worthwhile, Grif knew a busy work ploy when he saw one. That was why the Reds' and Blues' presences had been mandatory for the "show."
It was also announced that the Armonian delegation would receive special combat training from Carolina and even Washington on occasion too, a fact that Carolina in particular didn't seem too pleased by if the frown pursing her lips was any indication. Truthfully, it was hard to tell with the cyan-armored woman. She never looked particularly pleased.
As everyone started drifting off to get their assignments, Grif figured that now was probably as good a time as any to leave and report back to his boss. He groaned inwardly at the notion. As boring as things were here, he would much rather stand around doing nothing than go back to a thoroughly thankless job. But, what could he do? If he came back any later, his superior was liable to get impatient and that could only mean worse things for him in the long run.
Grif left just as the guy that he had spilled coffee on earlier, Simmons (why was that name so familiar?), and his pink-wearing teammate Donut were introduced to the two Armonian girls who would evidently be helping Red Team out for a while. He laughed inwardly as he overheard the maroon sweater vest wearing man's flustered attempt at talking to the girls. What a fucking nerd.
Antoine Bitters wasn't at all sure of what to do with the information that he and Matthews would be shadowing some bodyguard during their stay in Valhalla. The young man with multi-colored hair frowned. Playing bodyguard was definitely not what he had expected when he had been chosen for this "important peacekeeping mission."
Granted, it wasn't like he had known much of anything about the assignment from the start. His superiors had been sparse on details, and he had been too annoyed at his mandatory selection to inquire. Keeping up his sullen attitude had suited him just fine, so Bitters hadn't even bothered asking their mission leader Kimball anything either. In hindsight, that probably wasn't the best decision he could have made. But, it was what it was now.
The guy that they were supposed to be shadowing did not seem to be at the meeting. Everyone else from the Armonian delegation was already getting introduced to their teams and superiors, but no one had even bothered to approach him or Matthews yet.
That served Bitters just fine, as it meant he could put off going to work for these Valhalla assholes for a little while longer. Yeah, he had gotten the underlining meaning of the display from earlier. Thanks to that "show," he wasn't convinced these "peacekeeping" duties would amount to shit in the long run.
The situation wasn't sitting so well with Matthews though, with the bespectacled auburn-haired young man nervously fidgeting next to Bitters. Apparently the two were going to be partners yet again, as they had been ever since they were first stationed together.
Truthfully, the idea of the yellow-trimmed lieutenant being a guard of any sort was downright laughable. …Then again, it was hard for Bitters to picture the younger teenager as a soldier at all. This fucking war really was fucked up beyond imagination if someone like Matthews had been forced into it.
Bitters couldn't help but let out a sigh when Matthews' twitching became too much of an annoyance to outright ignore anymore, "Dude, fucking chill out."
"But…!" Matthews turned to him as he trailed off, eyes wide and looking positively scandalized by the suggestion.
Bitters couldn't help but sigh again as he rolled his eyes and tried to think of a convincing enough argument to get Matthews to see things his way, "You'll need your wits about you for the mission."
It was utter bullshit since all they had been assigned was pointless busy work, but his words seemed to do the trick. Matthews tried his hardest to visibly relax. What a fucking kiss-ass.
"You're…you're right, Bitters!" Matthews told him, a thankful smile blooming across his face, "Thanks!"
"Welcome." Bitters was just grateful that his ruse had fucking worked. He did his best to quell down the odd feeling of elation that had suddenly risen in his chest at the sight of the other lieutenant's smile.
Instead of focusing on that odd sensation, he decided to wonder just what it was he had ever done in his life to get so invariably stuck with the yellow-trimmed suck-up. Though he supposed it could be worse. After all, he could be Andersmith…stuck with Palomo once again.
"Oh, yeah! We'll file the shit out of things, sir!" Bitters heard the aqua-trimmed lieutenant in question exclaim loudly from the other side of the room where Palomo was no doubt meeting one of his Blue Team mentors.
Suddenly, being stuck with Matthews for the duration of this pointless assignment didn't seem so bad.
Lavernius Tucker couldn't help but groan in exasperation at the exclamation that had just come out of Charles Palomo's mouth right after Blue Team had been officially introduced to their two Armonian "helpers."
Andersmith, the older of the two, seemed all right. Beyond being oddly ecstatic over what seemed to be pointless busy work, that is. But, the younger teenager named Palomo? Tucker could already tell that he was going to drive him up the wall.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." He muttered mostly to himself even though he knew it had been loud enough to be heard by others, a hand resting on his head to rub at an oncoming migraine.
…Because, they just had to be, right? There was no way anyone had seriously thought an idea this dumb would lead to lasting peace between both sides.
Tex smirked at the frustration that was evident on both Tucker and Church's faces then, "Afraid not, Tucker." She informed him before patting the two Armonians in a comradely fashion on the shoulder, "Enjoy yourselves, kiddos. Let me know if these morons give you any trouble." The blonde joked as she motioned towards Blue Team.
"Of course, ma'am!" Andersmith said as he actually saluted her. What the actual fuck?
Church groaned, rolling his eyes in his girlfriend's direction, "You just love making my life even more miserable, don't you?"
Tex's smirk only widened, "Of course."
"Bitch." Church said, giving his girlfriend the finger for good measure.
Then, with introductions over, Tex waved at all of them before sauntering off to join her fellow mercenary buddies, Felix and Locus. Both of whom, Tucker had noted, were staying clear of the young Armonians despite carefully observing them all the same.
Tucker could relate in a way. It was sort-of unnerving seeing so many teenagers in one place. That didn't happen in Valhalla due to the population limits. The fact that these kids were soldiers besides? Well, it left a bitter taste in his mouth that he tried his best to ignore. Was this the fate that was in store for Junior, years down the line? It better fucking not be!
Caboose, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to all of the bigger pictures looming overhead of them. The blue-wearing man smiled cheerfully at Blue Team's two designated helpers from the Armonia region of Chorus, "It is always awesome to meet new friends!" He informed them happily with a nod of his blond head, "I can't wait until you meet Sheila! She is very nice."
Sheila was currently hanging out with Red Team, most likely on account of Lopez. Tucker knew a match when he saw one, even amongst androids. She was also helping Donut and Simmons with introducing the two female lieutenants from Armonia to Sarge. Socially awkward Simmons couldn't even freaking talk to girls, so that was borderline amusing at least.
Figures that Blue Team wouldn't get the chicks, even if they were a bit too young for Tucker to make an actual move on. In a year or two, he'd be all for hitting on the athletic-looking blonde with the pink trim though. Again, he lamented that Blue Team seemed to be getting the suckier Armonian recruits.
The dark-skinned man watched Caboose drag the two Armonian males over in the direction of Red Team, and Palomo's brown eyes lit up at the sight of the freckled girl standing there in particular, "Sweet! I can't wait to tell Jensen about my assignment!"
That left a dumbfounded Tucker alone with a grumpy-as-always Church. Tucker watched them go and shook his head in bewilderment, "Can you believe this? He's not even crushing on the hot chick. There's no hope for them!"
Church shrugged his shoulders indifferently, "I've gotten to the point where I call bullshit on pretty much everything, Tucker." He informed him matter-of-factly. Then his eyes landed on something over his coworker's shoulder and he frowned, "Like what's heading towards us right now."
Tucker, confused by what Church meant, quickly turned around. He was surprised to find that the steel-and-yellow-armored Freelancer called Agent Washington was just a few steps behind him. His gray eyes went to the sword hilt at Tucker's belt before glancing up at his questioning face.
"You must be Lavernius Tucker." Washington stated without preamble, clearly unimpressed.
Tucker shot a confused glance over towards Church, though the goateed man had already disengaged himself from the conversation by suddenly finding the ground incredibly interesting. Asshole.
He honestly couldn't recall ever having spoken to Washington before, so Tucker raised a questioning eyebrow as he turned back around to the expectant Freelancer, "Yeah, I am. Why do you care exactly?" He asked before grinning, "Did you happen to hear about my kickass skills?"
Washington rolled his gray eyes, "Hardly." He told the younger man, nodding his head slightly as he did so, "I just wanted to meet the person I would be responsible for training while Carolina is responsible for the Armonians."
That made absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever, a fact that Tucker couldn't help but illustrate out loud by blinking in confusion, "Say what?"
Washington, however, chose not to repeat himself, "We start tomorrow. Meet me here in the morning when you come in for work."
The blond then turned to leave, but Tucker was just a step behind him: "This is bullshit!"
"I agree," Washington replied as he stopped once more, eyes going back to the sword hilt at Tucker's side, "But, then again, I wasn't the one chosen by a mysterious alien artifact."
Tucker rolled his eyes, "Oh, big fucking deal! I fell in a hole and accidentally touched something."
Seriously, why was he being punished for that? Tucker had just had a half-hour demonstration of what this guy was capable of, and he wanted Junior to grow up with a dad still alive and kicking, okay? Thanks.
"What an impressive story." Washington said sarcastically, clearly not thrilled with the notion of training Tucker either. Oddly enough, that pissed Tucker off even more because, fuck it! He was good company. Washington sighed, "If you want to complain about it more, then I suggest going to the higher ups." He told Tucker, "Though I can't imagine that you'll have any better luck than I did."
When Tucker sputtered indignantly at that remark, Washington promptly disengaged himself from the conversation with the dark-skinned younger man, "Training begins tomorrow. In the morning."
As Tucker watched the Freelancer go, Church rejoined him. "This is absolute bullshit." He couldn't help repeating to himself in disbelief, although his cobalt-wearing coworker overheard it.
Church nodded, "Yeah." He stated, "Oh well. Sucks to be you, dude." He told him before unhelpfully patting Tucker on the back and walking off seemingly without a care in the world.
While everyone else in the training hall scattered, Agent Carolina put away some of the training equipment that had been used in the earlier demonstrations. She figured doing so would help put her unease to rest, as staying active so often did. That was one of the reasons why Washington and Church nagged her about rest so much, as if they were people who should be giving anyone else advice on that subject.
The redhead heard the fall of footsteps from behind her. She assumed that it was Washington coming by to assist her after having informed Lavernius Tucker of the Blue Team about his new assignment, "I've already moved most of the larger pieces." She started without turning around, "I don't need any help."
"I know. Very impressive." An unfamiliar, female voice noted. Definitely not Washington.
Carolina stiffened and turned around, coming face-to-face with Vanessa Kimball, the leader of the Armonian group. At least it wasn't one of the teenagers. She was already dreading how awkward tomorrow morning was going to be. The Freelancer wasn't exactly the greatest when it came to dealing with children.
Kimball gave her a curt nod in greeting, "That whole display was pretty impressive, actually."
"Thank you." Carolina shifted on her feet awkwardly. A people person, she was not. Communication was not one of her strengths, which was why she always tried to limit how much she engaged in it.
Kimball seemed to catch on to that fact quick, as she moved the conversation along expertly, "I've been assigned to work with you during our stay here."
Right. Carolina had been informed of that already. She supposed that made sense since technically Kimball was in charge of the younger soldiers and Carolina would be overseeing their morning drills.
Carolina glanced around the training hall and frowned, taking note of where the Armonians were, "They seem a bit young for this kind of mission, don't you think?" She surprised herself by blurting out.
It wasn't like her to voice her concerns to a total stranger, and Carolina certainly shouldn't be doing so when it regarded the other side of an ongoing war that had only barely paused. But, still, she knew firsthand how training kids to fight fucked them up.
From the momentary look glossing over Kimball's brown eyes as she also glanced around the training hall, it seemed as if she was in agreement with Carolina's assessment. "They were assigned because no one besides me volunteered to come to Valhalla." She explained softly, a sad sort-of smile on her face.
"Oh." Carolina couldn't think of what to say, though she nodded her head in quiet understanding.
Kimball continued, letting out a tired sigh: "Every one of us who came here hopes that the exchange program will help bring about lasting peace."
It was an admirable goal, but…
Carolina frowned, "I'm not sure how busy work is going to accomplish much in the long run." She admitted to the other woman.
There was a flash of determination across Kimball's face just then, "It's the best chance we've had in a long while." She stated emphatically.
True enough. After all, so long as the group remained in Valhalla, the ceasefire would hold and peace talks, ostensibly, would begin. It was a long shot to be sure, but Kimball had the right of it. Even if Carolina herself still wasn't sure that true peace would ever be attainable between the two groups, especially given just how long the fighting had been going on. It had started well before her own birth, after all. So many generations had only known war.
Both women regarded one another for a moment until Kimball cleared her throat and motioned to the few pieces of training equipment that were still out in the open, "Mind if I help?"
Yes, she did. Carolina could do this on her own. But, she watched Washington walk towards her as her green eyes glanced around to the people still scattered about the training hall before returning to Kimball. The Armonian was waiting for an answer, so the redhead simply nodded her head in response.
Grif stood in uncomfortable attention in front of his commanding officer: an older, decorated soldier whose name he had yet to bother learning. The orange-wearing man couldn't be positive, but he thought his boss' name was something that was similar to Simon. But, it wasn't because that would have been too fucking easy.
Grif had just finished going over his report, and there was a frown on Not!Simon's face as he processed it. At length, the older man pressed his fingers together over his desk, "That wasn't very thorough." He noted disapprovingly, in that unimpressed tone he always seemed to use around his bodyguard.
The chubby man couldn't help but roll his eyes upon noticing that the man's gaze was focused on the wall behind him and not directly on his person. Jackass. "Sorry, sir." He stated, not really caring at all in the slightest.
If he noted the underlying sarcasm in Grif's voice, the older man chose not to comment on it. Instead, his commanding officer shrugged his shoulders as if the matter was of little consequence to him in the grand scheme of things.
"Until these peace talks inevitably fail and the Armonians leave, you have been given a new assignment." Grif's boss stated directly, "Helping to mentor two of their lieutenants." The distasteful way he said that last word showcased just what he thought of the young soldiers who had come to Valhalla.
So, Grif was getting assigned yet another babysitting job without any say in the matter. No doubt it was because his superior wanted to keep close tabs on the "enemy" without raising the ire of the staff here in Valhalla who were actually pushing for the peace talks. Grif thought it sounded like a pain in the ass, but he knew better than to argue.
"The job also means that you will have to be reassigned until its duration." Not!Simon continued, "I refuse to have Armonians anywhere near this office and, this way, your skills will be best served elsewhere."
Grif thought he detected sarcasm in the man's voice at that last part, but he again knew better than to comment on it. Besides, it served him better if the guy in front of him with the graying hair thought he was a good-for-nothing.
"So, when exactly would this reassignment be taking place? Sir." Grif found himself asking, not particularly caring either way.
Before Not!Simon could respond, there was a hesitant knock on the door. It opened tentatively, a recently familiar shock of red hair poking inside before Simmons of all people fully entered the office.
Simmons saluted as the door shut behind him, his voice an odd mixture of both hopefulness and trepidation as he asked: "Y—you wanted to see me, sir?"
The older man's eyes flickered disapprovingly to the very visible coffee stains on Simmons' maroon sweater before he smiled thinly in response to the question that had been asked of him. Okay, Grif did feel a bit guilty about the spilled coffee when he saw Simmons flinch slightly at his commanding officer's regard. Poor guy looked like he had been physically hit with the disdainful stare that Not!Simon had sent his way.
However, instead of answering Simmons' question, the older man turned his attention to Grif, "Have you had the chance yet to meet my son?"
The heavyset man grimaced as it suddenly became obvious why Simmons' name had seemed familiar.
Both Grif and Simmons stared at one another, muttering "Oh, fuck me." under their breaths at the exact same time.
Author's Notes: The second chapter of my Workplace/Job AU written for the Dreamwidth comm whole_new_world using the "Fateful Encounter" prompt. Things are picking up already now that the characters have all been pretty much introduced to one another! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter out, so it ended up being one of my longer recent ones (though I suspect most of the chapters for this story will end up being longer ones when all is said and done)! :)
Thank you for taking the time to read this! :D