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 Six: Dangerous Secrets
For a few seconds, the meeting room was blissfully quiet as both Tex and Tucker waited. Currently, Leonard Church poured over data spread out before him across the large, oval table that took up the majority of the space. The cobalt-wearing man absentmindedly strummed his fingers on the table's cool surface, the noise amplified by the surrounding quiet.
Church knew the peaceful lack of sound wouldn't last long. It never did. Just as a sweep of his fingers over the holographic screens caused them to fluctuate and change to new ones, the silence was broken by Tex. The black-wearing woman crossed her arms over her chest to fix him with a level stare that Church recognized as the spilt-second calm before the storm.
"Now that you more or less have your team," she began in that matter-of-fact voice that left no room for argument, "You need to set up a mission for them so that they learn the ropes."
Church scoffed and glanced at Tex before replying, "Thanks for stating the fucking obvious."
Tucker frowned from his spot next to the blonde, eyes darting back and forth between Tex and Church, "Hold up. Do you really think they're ready for that?"
Church turned his dark-haired head towards Tucker, "Why do you even care given how against this shit you are?" He questioned, "Furthermore, who the fuck even let you inside my house?"
Both Church and Tex had been engrossed in going over their own individual findings when Tucker had just sort-of entered the vicinity. Considering that Caboose had gone out for a "walk" an hour or so before, it was unlikely that he had been the one to let Tucker in.
"Hey, what can I say?" Tucker replied as he smirked, "Your house likes me."
Sheila's voice came through the walls then: "In a strictly platonic sense, of course."
"Aw, man. Why'd you have to add that part?" The dark-skinned man groaned out loud. He slumped his shoulders as both Tex and Church smirked at the Virtual Intelligence's clarification on the subject.
"Because even Sheila wants everyone to know she has standards?" Tex joked, amusement dancing in her brown eyes.
Tucker groaned again, "I might be thinking of tagging along just this once." He said, clearly deciding to change topics back to Church's earlier question in order to save face, "If only to make sure you morons don't cause too much trouble."
"That's unlikely." Tex snorted in response, shrugging her shoulders as if Tucker was talking about an inevitability and not just a possibility.
Church bristled at the lack of faith his girlfriend was currently displaying, "Hey! This whole "team" thing was partially your idea too!" He was quick to remind her.
She nodded her head slightly, "That's why I've brought you a little gift."
With a wave of her hand, all of the charts and windows that were hovering over the table disappeared. They were replaced instead by a single floating hologram of a file.
"There are just too many leads on Charon for me to investigate on my own," Tex explained, motioning to the file, "And I have one in particular that I think would be perfect for your group."
"What kind of lead?" Church said as he frowned in thought. He stared at the hologram warily, as if afraid it would bite. Knowing that this data came from Tex, there was a good chance that it might.
"Someone has been stealing old, confiscated data. Data that Freelancer had collected on Specials in the city. It had been stored at various government facilities." The blonde told him, a smirk crossing over her lips, "Should be an easy enough job to get intel from, right?"
There was a note of playful challenge in her voice then, the same kind of note that usually resulted in Church being naked and handcuffed to a bed. Church tried to ignore the excitement that particular line of thinking caused to flood through him, instead choosing to contemplate the mission suggestion.
The silence was interrupted by a beeping noise.
Tucker glanced down at his phone only to softly swear to himself. He held up a finger as if to block the curious glances both Tex and Church threw his way: "It's Jensen. She's giving me a progress report on Junior." He informed them, "I've got to take this."
Tucker left the room, and Church locked eyes with Tex. She was waiting patiently for a response. His blue eyes wandered once more to the file hovering over the table's surface.
Church sighed before finally nodding his head, "All right. Show me what you've got."
David Washington placed the key into the keyhole of his apartment door. His mind was already swimming with possible new leads, and he knew that he could follow them first thing in the morning.
Washington was aware that with his back turned he appeared to be an easy target, but the truth was that he had learned the hard way to never let his guard down. So, the blond easily noticed the movement in the hallway behind him out of the corner of his eye.
He turned, bracing for an attack before relaxing the moment he spotted Junior shyly waving at him. The child's back was pressed against the door to his and his father's apartment, as if he was contemplating running back inside.
Washington waved back rather awkwardly. He wasn't exactly the most comfortable of people around children. Or around anyone, for that matter.
Dimly, he wondered if Junior's presence meant that Tucker was home. His eyes flitted to the door behind Junior before he could chastise himself. It wasn't like Tucker's location really mattered to him.
"You were at Church's house." Junior stated without preamble, eyes openly curious.
"…That's right." Washington replied hesitantly as he shifted so that he was now fully facing the young boy.
"Does that mean you're friends with Daddy?"
Washington frowned slightly at the question, though he supposed it was the sort of conclusion any young child might make. The gray-eyed man thought back to the conversation that he and Tucker had previously and he suddenly recalled the all-too stubborn and defiant look that had flashed in the dark-skinned man's eyes…
"It's complicated." Washington finally said, "But I am trying to look out for your father's best interests."
That was true. In a way. Given his own past experience, Washington knew firsthand how detrimental teams could be for someone's wellbeing.
Junior fixed the former Freelancer with a surprisingly pointed look for someone so young, "You're stronger than my dad." He noted without any hesitancy or doubt in his voice, "And my dad is pretty strong when he wants to be."
"You're quite observant." Washington replied as he nodded his head to both of the boy's incredibly keen observations, thinking back to the training session he had witnessed before at Church's place.
Tucker was certainly not without ability, although Washington thought he was hampered by lack of experience and training. Not to mention his huge ego.
Junior beamed at the praise thrown his way. He opened his mouth to say more when the door to Tucker's apartment opened behind him. The boy stumbled backwards a bit, but was saved from falling by a steadying hand that rested on his shoulder.
To Washington's surprise, it was not Tucker who had caught Junior. Rather, it was a teenaged girl with tan and freckled skin dressed in light tan and maroon clothing.
"I found you, Junior!" The newcomer smiled brightly, revealing the metallic sheen of braces in her mouth, before her eyes flashed with concern, "But you know you aren't supposed to be out in the hallway by yourself."
"I was just saying hello!" Junior pouted slightly, slumping his shoulders guiltily.
"Uh-huh. Right when you should be brushing your teeth too." The girl admonished, but the smile that her face was again sporting revealed she wasn't really mad in the slightest. "Come on and get ready for bed." She said with a noticeable lisp as she opened the door wider and stepped to the side to give the child room to move past her, "Your dad should be home soon."
Junior sighed, "Okay, okay." He muttered in defeat before smiling again and waving to Washington, "Good night, mister!"
With that, he was gone. That just left Washington and the unknown girl to stand awkwardly in the hallway.
"You…just moved in, right?" The brunette said in way of a friendly greeting, "I'm Katie Jensen. I live just down the hall."
So now he knew three of the people who lived in this apartment building. That was more than what had been the case with his last five residences combined.
…Washington honestly wasn't sure how he felt about that yet. Jensen, unaware of his conflicting emotions, continued to wait politely for his response. The blond sighed. There was no need to be rude to any of his current neighbors.
"Washington." He said at length, "So you're Junior's babysitter?" He both hoped (one could never tell with Tucker) and surmised, scratching his head awkwardly. Again, he and kids didn't mix.
"When I have the time." She was beaming again, "Junior's sweet, and Mr. Tucker is really nice once you get to know him."
Washington wasn't sure he wanted to necessarily get to know any of the people in this building better, but Jensen and Junior both seemed harmless enough. He thought, unbidden, of Tucker's argument with him before and of that spark in his dark eyes…
"I'll take your word on it." Washington assured Jensen before he turned back to his own door, opening it quickly.
Richard "Dick" Simmons had gone to bed rather early. As such, the redhead found himself woken up just a few hours later by a knock on his door. He groaned and turned onto his side, not really wanting to get up just then.
Of course, he somehow managed to roll over onto his cybernetic side, the metal from his arm poking painfully into his flesh. The uncomfortable position caused Simmons to wake up from his grogginess even more.
…Unhelpfully, his brain also supplied the cyborg with the information that he had yet to make up his mind about Church's offer. He wrapped his thin sheet tightly around his body, furtively squeezing his eyes shut.
There was another persistent knock at his door. Simmons groaned again, finally willing his uncooperative body up.
Fortunately, he had worn his clothes to bed, so his concealing maroon hoodie sweatshirt covered his cybernetics from view. He just needed to remember to put his gloves on before he opened the door.
Truthfully, it was always a surprise that anyone ever knocked on his door and, while it caused him a bit of anxiety every time it happened, he usually found it to be a case of mistaken identity and nothing more.
Simmons was somewhat taken aback this time to find one of his younger neighbors, a dark-skinned teenager named Antoine Bitters, apathetically standing outside his doorway with what appeared to be a covered casserole dish in his hands.
Bitters had ridiculously dyed multi-colored hair that Simmons had never gotten the full story on, and he doubted that he would do so now as the young man unceremoniously shoved the dish into his chest. It was still warm. Simmons was suddenly reminded that he hadn't eaten a homecooked meal in a long time.
"Mom wanted you to have it since you're always eating convenience store food." Bitters said in way of an explanation quickly, bored tone evident in every word.
Simmons' face heated up at the younger man's observation, but he took the plate anyways, "Th—thanks."
Bitters nodded and shrugged, not even trying to mask the fact that he was using this opportunity to take a look at Simmons' apartment. He whistled, "It looks even shittier than ours does." He noted, raising an eyebrow, "I thought all nerds were hyper clean freaks."
Simmons' face burned even hotter in embarrassment at that remark, which thankfully meant that he was too flustered to really get offended. "I…I usually am more organized than this." He said in a tiny voice, his shoulders slumping, "This is…it's just a phase!"
…That he had been going through ever since his escape, but Bitters didn't need to know that.
Bitters said nothing in response. He simply stood there in his tan and orange clothing, looking down at his feet instead.
Simmons couldn't help but fidget, not used to anyone standing in his doorway for so long, "Is there something else?" He anxiously asked after the silence wore on, "I'll be…I'll be sure to thank your mother and return the plate soon."
"I suppose not." Bitters then turned to go, leaving a still confused Simmons standing there to ponder over the strange exchange.
…That was until his phone went off in his pocket.
Balancing the dish in one hand, he glanced down at his phone's screen to note that a message had come in from Church. The details were scant, but evidently the goateed Special wanted to meet with everyone first thing tomorrow.
Simmons sighed, wondering for a second if Grif and everyone else would show. His anxiety skyrocketed to new heights as he shut the door to his apartment.
This late at night, the park was rather empty. Not that Dexter Grif was really worried about muggers or anything of the like. His powers meant that he was more than capable of taking care of himself.
Two figures appeared to be waiting for him by a bench located near an abandoned playground. One of them was a tan-skinned man of frightening height and muscle. Next to him was another man who had the same air of danger, maybe even more so, despite his smaller stature and frame.
Grif could already tell that these were the type of guys one did not fuck around with. He was more than a little alarmed that they knew where he lived. Hell, in order to stage the letter they had probably gained entry into his and Kai's house. That was scary as fuck to think about.
Still, Grif managed to keep that fear from showing on his face since showing weakness was a definite no-no. Instead, he raised a black eyebrow as the two strangers turned to meet him. Time to get this shit over with.
"You guys probably couldn't have gotten more cliché with your choice of a meeting place if you tried." Grif noted wryly, gesturing around them, "A park, really?"
The shorter of the two strangers smirked before replying: "You can't really go wrong with the classics."
Grif supposed he couldn't really argue with that type of logic. He shrugged heavyset shoulders in what he hoped came across as an apathetic gesture.
"We should probably get right down to business, shouldn't we?" The brown-haired man continued, "I'm Felix and the big guy here is my partner, Locus."
Locus inclined his head slightly, but seemed to be of the mindset to let Felix do all of the talking currently.
"Our employer already knows that you have been approached by a remnant of Freelancer, so I wouldn't play dumb if I were you." Felix told him, brandishing a knife to flick up and down in some kind of mind trick play.
Grif's eyes widened slightly, and he wondered just who their employer was or how much they really knew. A feeling of apprehension was building up in his stomach. He had no way of knowing if it was from this cryptic-as-all-fuck conversation or the five super-spicy burritos he had eaten on his way here. Probably a mixture of both.
"Right now, all we want from you are reports and updates on the group's activities." Felix said as he smirked even more, a sharp edge in his eyes, "Everything else we'll have fun finding out on our own."
"And I'd do this because…?" Grif asked as he tried to keep the trepidation he was feeling from showing. After all, it was best to appear almost considering and nonchalant in these kinds of situations.
"General health and wellbeing." Felix stated cheerily, as if he was discussing the weather, "Besides, with your track record already? This would fall right in your alley. You're kind of an asshole."
Grif frowned, not necessarily liking the implication from either comment, though he could hardly deny the second one.
"Neither you nor your sister will be harmed if you cooperate." Locus spoke up for the first time as if reading Grif's thoughts, "And you will be compensated handsomely."
Felix nodded his head, "Our employer is a very rich man." He noted before shrugging, "I don't know. Seems like a bit of a no-brainer to me, pal."
Grif couldn't really argue with that. Besides, given the implicit threats in Felix and Locus' oh-so-casual remarks, it wasn't as if they were giving him too many options. He tried to not think of Church and the others, and especially not of Simmons, as he reluctantly nodded his head in quiet agreement.
"Smart choice." Felix said as he patted the orange-wearing man on the shoulder conspiratorially, "We'll be in touch."
Just as the two men left, Grif's phone beeped to let him know that he had received a message. It was from Church. About a possible meet-up tomorrow.
"Fucking perfect." Grif couldn't help but mutter sarcastically under his breath.
Author's Notes: The plot! It thickens! XD
Next up on Specials: the group meets up to discuss their first real mission, with both Simmons and Tucker definitely NOT missing either Grif or Wash at first. XD Kimball gets introduced, along with The Triplets! :D
Thank you for reading this chapter! :)