"So…" Moxxie started, his gaze fixed on the seat in front of him, focusing on everything but his boss.
"I'm trying to sleep here, Moxxie," grumbled Blitzo from his slouched position next to him on the backseat of the van. They'd all traded places a few miles back, when he'd wanted a break from driving to rest his eyes. Big fat fucking chance with Moxxie jabbering away.
"How did he taste?"
"Whut?" he opened one eye to see Moxxie picking at a frayed thread on his waistcoat.
Moxxie grimaced. "Striker," was spat out like the curse word the name deserved to be. "You bit him when he," and here he started to flap his hand around in a gesture Blitzo was too tired to decipher.
Closing his eye again, he punched Moxxie's shoulder. "Lemme sleep or you're fired."
On the front passenger seat, Loona turned up the volume on her phone, some metal song blasting through the ear buds.
Millie, on the other hand, pretended not to eavesdrop even when her eyes constantly searched the rearview mirror to cast them curious, and worried, glances.
As he was beginning to think he could finally rest, lulled back to sleep by the background noise of quiet heavy metal and screamo, Moxxie piped up in a small voice, "Would you ever have, sir? I mean, fired me?" He paused. "With Striker on the team, it would have been a financial strain on the firm to have so many employees."
Groaning, Blitzo rolled his head to the left. "Stop being fucking stupid. As if Millie would have let me."
Since she forgot for a second that she was feigning disinterest, Millie hummed in agreement.
The prairie was drifting by behind Moxxie's head in the window, making his red and white-freckled face stand out from a background of brown on brown, his face pinched. "Oh."
"Is this supposed to be an insult? I think it's supposed to be an insult." Moxxie poked the black tusk lying on his desk, surrounded by the wrapping paper in which it had been delivered. The scent of straw and, honestly, manure still clung to it.
"I think it's sweet," Millie smiled and bussed him on the cheek. "My parents sent you a souvenir."
Pursing his lips, Moxxie sent the tusk spiraling with a flick of his foreclaw. "It's from the hog that almost gutted me. It's definitely sending a message." The tusk came to a halt after a few spins. "Not sure it's the one you think it is."
A satisfied sigh from Blitzo coming back from the loo broke Moxxie out of his staring contest with the stinking animal part.
"Her parents are lovely folks, hardy people with impeccable taste." Blitzo nodded as he plonked himself down on his chair, the seat's leather squeaking.
"They liked you too, boss!" Millie smiled.
"That's what I said, Mills."
Groaning, Moxxie packed the tusk away by throwing it into his desk drawer and shutting it with a bang. Out of sight, out of mind.
He would be so lucky.
"Hey, did you know you're trending, Mox?"
The question threw him off, especially since Blitzo kept scrolling through his phone, which he'd picked up to, at least Moxxie hoped so, check in with their clients. Alternative explanations were that he was watching porn or sexting Stolas. Moxxie didn't care for either pastime.
Before he could ask what his boss meant, Millie rushed over to Blitzo, draping herself over his shoulder to get a look at the screen. "Show me, show me, show me."
The grin growing on Blitzo's face wasn't reassuring at all as he started typing and the sound of Moxxie's own screams filled the office, interrupted by something that seemed to be Blitzo hollering encouragement in the background. He flipped the phone so Moxxie had a prime view of himself getting thrown around by that hellhog.
"Loona's most popular post so far. My little social media genius," he fondly told the room at large. "Twenty million views overnight. I'm so proud." He wiped a single, aesthetically pleasing, tear from his eye, then whooped. "And it's fucking awesome publicity for us!"
Moxxie didn't see how humiliating himself was in any way good publicity for anyone, least of all because they were supposed to be professional killers, not clowns. (He didn't think Blitzo would ever want to go back to that.) Twenty million people cackling their behinds off about Moxxie's desperate attempt to win the respect or at least acceptance of his wife's parents was no laughing matter. And on top of that, they'd liked Blitzo just because he'd insult-complimented their daughter. The lowest hanging fruit and Blitzo had made sangria out of it.
In the middle of this emotional hell circle of anger and depression, he could hear video-Blitzo whispering for Loona to send him the clip.
"Is that why you wanted me to wrestle the pig and were so encouraging?" Hands balled into fists, he wasn't sure if it was so he wouldn't scream or cry. Both were very likely options right now. His eyes began to burn.
Barely looking up from the phone he'd turned back to show Millie a particularly funny moment, Blitzo hummed.
"I asked you," Moxxie growled and stamped forward to snatch the phone out of his hand, "if the reason you were encouraging me was because you thought it was funny and something to laugh at behind my back."
"I also like to laugh in your face, Mox. No need to get huffy. I'm fair like that."
Fine. It was the last straw and if Blitzo wanted to break it, so be it. Moxxie smashed the phone against the desk's surface, probably decorating the screen with a thousand nasty little cracks in the process. Nothing new for his boss, he would get over it and Moxxie could make his point.
"Hey!" was the only thing Blitzo yelled as Moxxie thumped his phone a few more times down for good measure.
The anger went away as fast as it had come, leaving him with stinging eyes and Moxxie's hand growing lax until the device slipped from his fingers.
"My mistake that I believed you thought I could be competent. Really, my mistake. Mea culpa."
He stormed out of the room, even ignoring Millie trying to reach for him.
Before he entered the hallway, he could hear, "No idea what that last bit meant, but no, you stay here," in Blitzo's voice.
Fine. Fine. Fine. Now his boss was trying to keep his wife from coming after him. Fine.
He needed time to cool down anyway. He was all over the place.
After moping around the city like a lost baby sheep, he'd come to the conclusion that he also could just go home. Being pathetic at home was as good as being pathetic in the streets, with the added bonus that nobody was asking him if he'd lost his mommy or needed help finding her.
Thanks to that, calming down hadn't worked, not fully, not really, which led to Moxxie lying in his bed at 2 pm, a rapidly cooling hot cocoa on his bedside table. Two sips and he had started to become teary-eyed, once more. Comfort drinks were supposed to be soothing, not make people think about the last Office Christmas Party. But it was Moxxie's own fault for grabbing the "Best Employee" mug Blitzo had gifted him that day. Yeah, right. Had that rat-faced heap of dung Striker started to work for them, Moxxie would have been asked to give his mug up in two days flat.
He hid his face in Millie's pillow, groaning.
"If I'm interrupting humping-the-bed-time, I can come back later. Or watch. I'm not choosy."
The pillow forgotten, Moxxie turned around to face Blitzo leaning against the doorframe, obnoxiously grinning. "Leave my home. Now."
"Hm," was all the intruder said before sauntering towards the bed, sinking down on the edge of the mattress.
Struggling to untangle himself from the bedding, Moxxie hissed as he inadvertently knocked his elbow against the cocoa mug. It wobbled but stayed upright, though it drew Blitzo's gaze to it.
Blitzo's face twitched, the grin dropped, as he kept staring at the words Best Employee. He looked consternated as he asked, "Are you flipping out because of the video or the other stuff?"
Sighing, Moxxie gave up to make him leave. It had never worked before, not when he was bathing, while serenading Millie or that time Blitzo had popped in during sexy time with his wife. "What other stuff?"
"The bit where you kept screaming about feeling underappreciated by me. That's usually something you gripe about, but you don't throw hands. Or phones. Mine's fucking useless now, by the way, cracked all the way down the middle. Thanks a lot."
"I'm not going to apologize."
Worrying at the bedspread with his hands, and probably ripping itty bitty tiny holes into the fine textured weave with his claws, Blitzo looked more and more as if he was getting his teeth pulled. "Um, has this hissy fit anything to do with what you asked me in the van?" Of all the days to become perceptive, Blitzo had to choose this one.
"This isn't a hissy fit," Moxxie growled, then sunk into himself. "Maybe it has something to do with that," he heard himself say and pinched his nose to stave off an incoming headache.
"Hm." Blitzo's mouth turned down and his leg started to spasm. "Then the answers are, he tasted like shit, and, no, I wouldn't have fired you. You would have just had to cope with a massive pay cut."
It was Moxxie's turn so hum. Lost for more profound words now that he was drained and just tired, he grabbed his cocoa to take a sip, the sweet drink finally doing its job, namely soothing him.
Without waiting for permission, Blitzo dropped fully onto the bed, laying himself out like a starfish. "I just thought it would be fun to have someone else to work with for a while. That he might be the right guy for our family. Fit right in. But you reacted weird when I told you. Sad. That why?"
Licking his cocoa moustache off, Moxxie drew his legs up. "Everyone liked him and he was perfect at everything."
"Not at everything. He was a hired killer that left while his mark was still alive, kicking and sending me nudes. We're much more effective at that murder shtick."
A snort ripped out of Moxxie. "Ninty percent of the time by sheer luck."
"Blasphemy! We're professionals." He rolled over and crawled along the mattress to get closer to Moxxie. "And a team, that's why shit turns into flowers when we're there."
"But first we start the mayhem by accident."
"Sure thing, Mox."
Moxxie sighed, forlorn. "I didn't kill the hog. He did." Tap, tap, tap, he clacked his claws against the mug. "I didn't win the Pain Games. He did. And you."
Blitzo kicked his legs against his own butt in acknowledgement.
Tap, tap, tap. "And Millie's parents loved him before we found out he's a big fat lie in cowboy boots. I just earned my first barely-there nod after years of trying to get closer to them."
He nudged the mug at Blitzo, who took it while still lying down and slurped the last dredges of cocoa, his head thrown back. To Moxxie's relief, he didn't spill anything. Moxxie liked his sheets free of stains. The not-fun stains, at least.
Pouting, Moxxie sunk into his pillow. "And you asked him to work with us." That had been a punch in the stomach after the day he'd had. How guilelessly Blitzo had smiled at the brilliant idea to take the rattlesnake under contract while Striker made Moxxie feel like a clump of mud.
"I was really cheering you on. You could have taken the hog," Blitzo reassured him, his tongue stretching obscenely long to reach the bottom of the mug and lick it clean. Done and satisfied, he smacked his lips. "I still wanted that video because you're sometimes clumsy even when kicking ass and that's funny. Bullying is how I show I care, you know that."
"How is that for clumsy, sir?" Moxxie asked and literally kicked Blitzo's butt lightly with a hoof.
Taking it as a signal to sit up, Blitzo did just that. He still cradled the mug in his hands, the lettering facing Moxxie. "I bit he fucker when he shot at you with my gun. He shot at my best employee with my own gun. Get it now?"
Moxxie just stared at him, silent and judging. Sometimes he felt like Blitzo was allergic to his own emotions.
"Ugh," Blitzo moaned, "don't make me say it. I can say the words, but then we'll have to ignore each other in the office for at least a month because I can't look you in the eye."
Finally, Moxxie felt his lips stretch into a smile. A bit of self-awareness went a long way to butter him up. "We have fifteen new clients this week, we need to stay focused."
"Good man." Blitzo shook the mug at Moxxie and set it on the bedside table.
Instead of scampering off now that they'd talked about feelings of all things without Blitzo running away or making tiny-dick-jokes, Blitzo curled himself into a spiky ball of red and black and rolled closer until his head rested in Moxxie's lap.
The door was pushed ajar. "Can I come in now?" Millie peeked into the room, worry lines etched onto her pretty, perfect face.
"I told you to leave it up to me, Mills," Blitzo huffed into Moxxie's thigh.
"And I did. That's why I waited outside. Stand by in case you botched it up, boss." She tippled closer, peering at Moxxie. "You good, hun?"
"Yes," he said in unison with Blitzo.
Millie clapped her hands. "Goody! Then budge up, I want in on the cuddles!" She vaulted over Blitzo, pushing herself into the space next to them and rested her head on Moxxie's shoulder.
"You are perfect as you are," she whispered, her warm breath tickling Moxxie's ear.
He kissed her cheek and patted Blitzo's head between the horns, rubbing that place Millie always found without trouble. The purring started instantly, soft little rumbles that filled the room.
For the first time today, Moxxie thought, Fine, and truly meant it.
This episode did me in. So many characters I love, (potential) pairings and that song… Can someone give Moxxie a hug, please? Thanks to that, I was in the mood for writing something touchy-feely, and that one still of Blitzo realizing he hurt Moxxie and his face falling made me believe that would be a good starting point for a spot of usually out of reach self-awareness. But I'm ready to write other ideas down now. Imagine me snickering in a dark corner while rubbing my grubby little writer hands, please and thank you :D