A/N: Just a quick oneshot written to improve my day. I hope it improves yours!
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Eggsy met her first in a Swedish national park. She was a calm little thing still helplessly attracted to new smells, and JB with energy yet left over from his youth yipped and danced around her with calls for play ignored in favour of Eggsy's cooing and friendly hand. Security had observed the nameless Terrier approach, certainly, but Eggsy's affection to the dog - who was noted domesticated only by her unmarked collar - was founded more from his freedom from the usual crowd of security or paparazzi than from the assurance that the Terrier didn't carry a bomb or, heavens forbid, a killer smile.
When the beloved "Prince Eggsy" would supportively watch his wife give a speech like she was the moon and stars, cameras and hearts would be moved. When Eggsy would high-five children his sister's age despite his security practically hugging him towards the next item on his schedule, the world would laugh. When he would walk his dog, or drink tea, or jog in a private space, the people would follow him with adoration as if he was a member of their own families. If royalty were to be figures, Prince Eggsy was a personal one, a breath of fresh air.
He sometimes felt he himself needed one.
Now, mankind had seen a rough and unfair past few years. Eggsy understood how his honest life's story could appeal to many - from athlete to soldier to craftsman, or plebeian to tailor to prince regent - and who was he to not adore and support his wife in every manner he could. However, he found the public attention and mirroring raise in his security sometimes befuddling, and Eggsy liked forgetting his confusion through play dates with JB. Today proved a particular treat with only two token bodyguards around Eggsy and not a camera in sight, as well as the presence of a gossipy friend to accompany Eggsy through the otherwise quiet park.
"Gawain stitched Merlin a quilt," Roxy's lips twitched, "'for his new legs,' he said. Merlin oft bundles it around his knees where the prosthetics' temperature regulators fare lesser at the joints."
Details of Kingsman business remained strictly outside of their conversations no matter the countless occasions Eggsy and any one of the Table chatted, and with Eggsy's determination to succeed where he was now, the Kings and Statesman respectfully bothered him with only funny stories and memes. No one ever commented on the glasses they wore in Eggsy's presence. No one mentioned the blades in their shoes, bombs in their lighters, or darts in their brollies, ever. Business felt a world away.
"Merlin spill his tea yet?" Eggsy asked as he scratched velvety ears.
Roxy snorted. "He left a spiteful stain across three patches. Galahad has money on when Gawain will stop mourning over his tainted inter-stitching and realise Merlin hadn't tossed the quilt."
The unnamed Terrier barked when Eggsy's hand slowed, and he obligingly captured the dog with both hands to rub her with apology and unadulterated affection.
"Who's a good girl? You's a good girl! Yes you are!"
"Eggsy."
Eggsy lifted his head at Roxy's tone and spotted a man jog over with uncombed hair stubbornly loose in the breeze. The man was the agreeable and harmless breed of stranger who when he called out to the Terrier possessed a voice soft with the lack of ambition to be heard by any beyond those who'd stand next to him in the tube or in line for the loo. His demeanour appeared charming yet forgettable, if not for the suit.
The suit.
"She's precious," Eggsy praised, agreeable himself.
The man's eyes crinkled. "Her good behaviour is all her. I take no credit."
The Terrier bounced back to her master's feet with excited and loving wags of her tail by the time he stopped a respectful distance from Eggsy. She barked but not loudly, and playfully sniffed her master's ankles in circles. She was a good girl.
"She have a name?" Eggsy asked as he rose and brushed his knees of dirt. They shook hands, and Roxy absolutely did not twitch.
"Not yet," the stranger replied.
The only tension present came from Roxy. For now, Eggsy and the bespoke man were merely two adoring fathers of furry, pure-hearted children. They chatted but briefly as if aware of expectations, and then the Terrier peacefully walked off with her master before Roxy could think of touching her glasses. Once out of earshot of the stranger, Eggsy side-eyed Roxy.
"Stiff, much?"
"You know not half of it," Roxy quickly returned, and met Eggsy's gaze. "He's something, Eggsy."
"I was a tailor, even for a cover," Eggsy reminded. Italian stitching; inner lining revealed in the handshake spoke of custom layering, possibly a Kevlar mesh. Or another sort entirely, the kind still in the labs of whoever had first supplied Kingsman with bulletproof suits. Eggsy had just met someone from Business, but the man's English had been comfortably American, and Eggsy had met all the Statesman. Unless a new one had decided to depart from the Old Western vibe, Eggsy's stranger had been a hitman.
Farther away, Klas stabilised his centre of balance and looked to the one he'd sworn to protect until his charge died, as all secret service swore. "Is he a problem?"
Eggsy's protection was a close-knit unit fond of Eggsy, and thus familiar with Roxy. She and them, too, rarely spoke of Eggsy's redacted file with each other, but it was a testament to Klas's trust and genuine concern that he directly asked Eggsy and Roxy now about whom the service would possibly have to watch out for for the next several days.
Roxy respectfully acknowledged Klas's concern. "No. That man has no harmful intent towards our Eggsy."
Eggsy frowned. "That's awfully final of you, Roxy."
"If he wanted you dead," Roxy grimly murmured, "you'd be dead." She finally gave in to the impulse to tap her glasses, and Eggsy could imagine Merlin's voice in her ear as Roxy turned away to mutter news that Prince Eggsy shouldn't hear.
Eggsy glanced at Klas but attempted a neutral if not easy expression at Roxy's confession. What could he tell his guards? Eggsy would commit all he had to protect Roxy if given the situation, and Roxy, him. For Roxy to admit nothing she nor Kingsman could do would protect Eggsy from the hitman walking his dog unnerved Eggsy.
Klas and Torn - the complete service presence in the park - ambled to Eggsy's side with curious eyes on Roxy and the last sighted location of the bespoke stranger. Roxy returned from her hushed conversation with a turn back to face them.
"He seems to have just been on a walk," Roxy informed with less tension on her shoulders.
"What was he?" Torn asked, catching up.
Klas muttered a word in Swedish that both Roxy and Eggsy recognised, having been mistaken for such themselves across many languages. Roxy shook her head while Eggsy stroked JB, willing his partner within arm's reach despite the scare having passed.
"Not a hitman," Roxy corrected. Her honest tone meant she had received permission from Merlin to share what she'd say next. "That was John Wick."
Eggsy and Klas furrowed their brows while Torn looked sick.
"You know him?" Roxy clarified, herself a shade confused.
"Of course, you are too young to have heard of him," Torn thought aloud first, with eyes on Eggsy and Roxy. Torn had served in the Pope's protection detail before moving to Swedish royalty after V-Day due to a short-handed staff, and Klas appeared to recall such with knowing eyes finally finding his older counterpart. Rumour had it that the Vatican Police possessed a Black List - not of who to bar from His Holiness's presence, but who to throw all that the calvary could on sight.
"I've seen footage of him," Roxy offered.
"Yes, and I hope that is all you will see." Torn glanced Wick's way again, though the man had long gone. "It is a different manner entirely to have been in the Business while he was active."
"He ain't active now?" Eggsy looked to Roxy, who shook her head.
Roxy's glasses must have reacted to Wick's likeness and upon Roxy's curiosity flashed to her a file and a clip of the man in action. The footage had been enough to ashen Roxy's face within the steps Wick had taken to approach Eggsy and the Terrier, and prompt Roxy to contact Merlin once Wick had gone. While Klas couldn't draw the same conclusion, the guard formed his own alarming picture through his sensitivity towards a close companion's troubled body language. Klas had served as a soldier before volunteering as Eggsy's personal guard; the man knew little of the dark world.
"He's out," Roxy directed to Eggsy. "The way you are."
"A woman?" Eggsy teased.
Roxy denied so the same time Torn grunted a positive. The two crossed gazes.
"Doesn't matter," Torn decided. "I haven't been Inside for ages. My news is old. If a current source passes Wick, then he passes."
Roxy's lips twitched.
"However," Klas jerked his chin, "'two bruvs through the park' deserves revision as a security plan, Your Highness."
Theatrically gasping, Eggsy scooped up JB with strength disguising the pug's true weight and pointedly headed off to complete his circuit through manicured grass. His company of three hastily dogged after him with silent chuckles and eyes out for other park-goers. The four of them couldn't know when they'd encounter another devilishly unassuming spectre from the underworld.
Just another walk in the park.
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A/N: This was written while making more content for The Bartender, can you tell? My heart simply bursts for wholesome assassins.
Thanks for reading, and leave a pat on your way out!