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 Seven: Enter The Triplets
Richard "Dick" Simmons carefully and quickly made his way through the city over to Leonard Church's "hideout," though he was hard-pressed to actually call the building that since it was a house in a rather inconspicuous neighborhood. For all intents and purposes, the location was quite a bit nicer than his own shabby apartment building, if he was being completely honest with himself, despite how they were both located in the less well-to-do areas of the city.
The redhead took in a large breath of air as he reached the steps leading up to the door, glancing over his shoulders as he did so. The action had become ingrained whenever he went somewhere. Despite the urgency in Church's message last night, nothing that Simmons could see seemed particularly out of the ordinary. He supposed that could be just him reading more into it than he should have in the first place. His anxiety often did that.
Simmons didn't see any distinctive flashes of orange anywhere close by either and he had maybe, just maybe, even circled around that greasy diner earlier just to check. No big deal. He just wanted to make sure that Dexter Grif wasn't up to lazy mischief again. It wasn't like that person's absence was the reason his shoulders slumped ever so slightly in disappointment as he reached out for the hideout's door handle.
…Nope, not at all.
The maroon hoodie-wearing man was just starting to pull the door open when it was suddenly pushed outwards from the other side, Simmons having to take two extremely long-legged steps back to avoid a collision.
"Where the fuck have you been, asshole?" A familiar-sounding voice demanded.
Kaikaina Grif stood at the entrance with a glower on her tan-skinned face and hands planted firmly on her hips. The teenager casted a very heated and sharp look of both utter annoyance and impatience his way, as if the cyborg in front of her was to blame for all of her problems.
"Er…" Simmons' cybernetically modified brain apparently assessed that now would be an excellent time to completely short-circuit, so he was left standing rather helpless under the girl's pointed gaze.
The ire that had so succinctly suffused Kaikaina's features melted away about a second later, however, as a vague look of recognition at his gaping mug took its place instead. "Oh, it was just you." She stated rather indifferently as her whole demeanor relaxed and she took a step back, "Sorry about that. What's up, nerd?"
Simmons was not sure if he should feel glad or offended by her sudden change in demeanor, but he decided to settle on "relieved" now that the cybernetic equivalent he had to a heart beating in his chest had started up again.
"Um. Hey." He greeted awkwardly as she made way for him to step into the foyer.
A precursory glance at the inside of the building informed him that no one else was there, and it didn't take much time after that to guess why the tanned-skinned girl was waiting in the foyer on her own. No orange here either.
"Are—are you waiting for Grif?" Simmons asked her shakily, having never been comfortable talking to girls.
Kaikaina nodded, "Yeah, he didn't come home last night." When she saw the look of sudden concern crossing over Simmons' features, she was quick to add, "But it's no big deal. We're both late to a lot of shit, but if he says that he will be somewhere? Well, he fucking will be."
Simmons gave a quick nod of his head in understanding, "You really trust your brother a lot, huh?" He couldn't help but note, an apology already on the tip of his tongue if he had overstepped some unaware of personal boundary by asking that question.
Kaikaina shrugged in reply, "When someone's all you fucking have, you kind of have to."
She said it so matter-of-factly that the redhead fidgeted awkwardly where he stood, having no idea what the appropriate response to such a candid confession was.
The girl seemed to catch on to his hesitation, "Like I said before, it isn't really that big of a deal." She stated in a way that was probably meant to be reassuring. She fixed the cyborg with a brown-eyed, level stare, "Don't you have someone like that?"
Simmons said nothing in response, choosing to stare uncomfortably down at the tiled floor of the foyer. He supposed his silence was enough of an answer as it was because Kai suddenly smacked him consolingly on the shoulder a bit rougher than was probably necessary, though she made no remark about the wince that followed her course of action, "Well, anyways, come on and get your scrawny ass in here! Dex will get here whenever the fuck he gets here."
Simmons felt his face heat up at the last remark, "I—it's not like I was waiting for him. Really!" he informed the younger Grif sibling as they walked further into the building.
He actually heard Kai's eye roll in her voice before she even did it physically, "Uh-huh. Sure."
The cyborg opened his mouth to try and protest further when he saw a floating figure suddenly materialize at the bottom of the staircase they were approaching.
The somewhat translucent form of Sheila nodded her head in way of greeting, "If you could please go up the stairs and to the right in order to join the others in the briefing room, it would be greatly appreciated."
Simmons was rather startled by the announcement that there was a briefing room in this place, though he supposed given that this was a space that housed something as technologically complex as Sheila was and had its own training room besides, that probably wasn't too big of a shocker. Still, he put his curiosity aside to cast one last glance at the door that he had only recently stepped through himself.
Kaikaina rolled her eyes again before proceeding to shove the maroon-wearing man up the stairs, "Come on!"
There was still no sign of anything remotely orange while Simmons hastily complied with the girl's insistent pushing and shoving as Sheila watched on in mild amusement. …He didn't feel the least bit disappointed or worried. Honest.
Lavernius Tucker was in the process of battling what felt like a persistent headache, head resting in his hands. Shit, did he hate waking up with those things! He only glanced up at the sounds of Kaikaina, Simmons, and Sheila entering the all too crowded briefing room, figuring that he would just bum some aspirin off of Church later. The asshole fucking owed him for all of this, after all!
The dark-skinned Special smirked slightly at the newcomers and waved to them in greeting, "Looks like you decided to stick around after all, huh?" He jokingly remarked to Simmons in particular, having recognized that the lankier man had also been on the fence earlier about this whole "team" situation.
Simmons turned slightly red at the attention being placed on him before muttering, "This is, um, something like a trial run."
Tucker nodded his head in understanding, "Yeah, I get you. I'm here for the same sort of shit too."
Simmons visibly relaxed at not being criticized for how he had worded his explanation. How fucking low was the poor guy's self-esteem anyways? He almost felt bad about teasing the guy. Not bad enough to stop, but still! Tucker then briefly wondered just how much money he would probably wind up paying Jensen for babysitting Junior while this whole "trial run" lasted.
Thinking of his teenaged neighbor had Tucker suddenly recalling the girl and Junior's accounts of running into Washington last night too. Before he could stop himself, Tucker found his eyes flicking back over to the door as if hoping that the moody, untalkative Freelancer would suddenly show up.
After all, Washington had seemed mighty curious as to why Tucker had been exiting their shared apartment building again earlier that day. That is, if the gray eyes that had remained uncomfortably glued onto Tucker's back until the elevator doors closed were any indication. But, as his staring at the unmoving door lasted for several more minutes, he had to conclude that it didn't look like stalking was on the former Freelancer's itinerary today.
Tucker couldn't help but wonder if that meant that his new, rather nosy neighbor had now accepted what Church was attempting to do, or if he had just given up on trying to convince the digitally-focused Special to do otherwise. For some strange reason that Tucker couldn't fathom, that second notion in particular really pissed him the fuck off.
Thankfully, the teal-wearing man was cut off from dwelling on his perplexing Freelancer fixation by a deep-throated grumbling off to his side.
"This had better be important with all of the fancy messages you've been sending us." Sarge was busy telling Church, "I was planning on upgrading Lopez here today!"
The older man in red patted the brown-armored robot standing next to him rather jovially, though Lopez didn't seem at all too distressed by the turn of events that had brought the two of them here instead.
"Por supuesto, puede interrumpir sus actualizaciones inútiles cuando quiera. Seriamente." {"By all means, you can interrupt his pointless upgrades whenever you want. Seriously."}
"Of course it's fucking important, Sarge!" Church scoffed, "Why did you even sign up in the first place if you didn't think so?"
"... No lo hagas empezar." {"…Don't get him started."}
Lopez actually face-palmed and shook his helmeted head in exasperation when Sarge harrumphed at the question and puffed his chest out importantly, "Why, to shoot things! Obviously." He informed the cobalt-wearing man emphatically, "Not to constantly sit around and talk about our feelings like we've been doing."
From where they had been conversing together on the other side of the table, Doc and Donut both looked over as one at Sarge and Church's discussion.
"Gee, I don't know, Sarge." Doc spoke up with an obvious smile in his voice to match the one currently growing across his face, "You'd be surprised at how truly helpful and productive discussing emotions can be!"
"Doc's right!" Donut piped up, causing the purple-wearing man next to him to turn to face the younger person in surprise, "It's extremely important to properly acknowledge your feelings whenever you get the chance!"
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room at Donut's outburst, only to be broken by a rather awkward-sounding cough coming from Sarge a few seconds later. "Sons, no offense meant to you," the older man remarked, "But I personally take absolute offense to everything you both just said."
Tucker raised an eyebrow when he saw a pout begin to form on the dirty blond's face in particular, though whatever Donut was about to say in response was cut off by Caboose, who seemed to just now take into account everyone currently present in the briefing room.
"Tex is not here." Caboose stated blankly, blue eyes looking almost disappointed at the realization.
Church sighed, "I know, buddy, but she had some important things to do."
"Oh, please. I bet she just broke up with you again." Tucker joked, wincing at the slight pain in his head when he smiled. Worth it.
"Shut up, Tucker!" Church's face turned slightly red and he gave his friend the finger for good measure before his hands hovered over the holographic controls of the computer built into the briefing room's table, "The information I'm about to share with all of you came from her, as a matter of fact."
"The scary lady is very helpful." Caboose nodded his head as his voice lowered into a stage whisper, "Once, she even kicked a fly off of Tucker's head."
Tucker frowned, not sure if he would call his own memory of that event an example of Tex being "helpful" so much as a constant, piss-inducing reminder never to try flirting with the black-wearing blonde again. After all, there was still a huge-ass crack in the wall just a millimeter above where his head had been at the time.
Church opened his mouth to continue with what he had been trying to say earlier. The dark-haired man didn't get very far as the door to the briefing room opened again and Dexter Grif sauntered in, much to Church's eye-rolling chagrin at once more being interrupted. Tucker cracked a grin, risking his sinuses flaring up at amusement over Church's predicament.
The chubby, tan-skinned man muttered a quick, "What's up?" to everyone in the room before going to stand rather lazily next to his little sister.
Tucker watched as Simmons fidgeted awkwardly in his spot on the girl's other side, casting some unsure glances in Grif's direction. Just as it seemed as if the redhead had worked up the courage to ask Grif where he had been, Kaikaina beat him to the punch in her own rather colorful and demanding way: "Just where the fuck have you been?"
Grif rolled his eyes, "Out."
That seemed to be the only thing anyone was going to get out of the suddenly silent orange-wearing man, despite Kaikaina shooting him a probing, critical stare for a few more seconds. Grif expertly ignored her as if he had years of practice. Which he obviously had.
Donut chose to smile brightly in response to the newcomer, "Well, you're just in time for the debriefing that Church was about to give us!" He exclaimed good-naturedly, "And I'm sure there will be some information passed along with it too!"
"¿De verdad tienes que decirlo así?" {"Did you really have to word it that way?"}
Church coughed awkwardly at Donut's statement, "Er…thanks, Donut. I guess." He said before activating the holographic display above the table.
There was a chorus of (some sarcastic) "Oh's!" and "Ah's!" as various maps and pictures flashed to brilliant life above everyone's heads. Tucker suddenly found himself wanting sunglasses to help filter out the light.
"There have been several security breaches of various facilities in the supposedly "secure" areas of the city." Church continued as he filtered through the information on display at an annoyingly high speed, a smirk forming on his goateed face, "I figured this would be the perfect first mission for all of you."
Doc and Donut both did an excited little jump just then at the exact same time, exclaiming loudly together, "Road trip!"
"I love those!" Caboose joined in happily not a second later, "May I please have a window seat?"
Tucker rolled his eyes and groaned at the sight that followed of the pink-wearing man clapping as Donut remarked, "Oh, oh! Then I get to call shotgun's lap!"
Tucker was definitely going to end up paying Jensen quite a bit in babysitting fees in the near future. Damn it. His headache increased tenfold.
Since she had a rare break, Vanessa Kimball sat in her drab, austere office reviewing her most recent solved case files.
All in all, they hadn't been anything too difficult or exceedingly dreadful. It was just that there had been a lot of them to go through in a rather short amount of time. The cases were of the "usual" sort, such as husbands cheating on wives or requests to get to the bottom of a string of petty vandalism cases that the police had deemed unimportant in the grand scheme of things.
They kept her busy and kept her paid, which was something that she desperately needed, for more reasons than she could ever count.
For once, Kimball was rather grateful in a way for the recent absence of Specials cases on her desk, if only because she generally did those in her spare time and while off the clock. Doing pro bono work often wasn't such a good thing when there were bills to be paid. Plus, she was going to collapse if she went yet another day with only an hour or so of sleep.
That wasn't to say she didn't have any Specials cases. Kimball frowned slightly at a file poking out from under a datapad that she had carelessly thrown over it when she had stumbled into the office earlier that day, desperate to make coffee.
The dark-skinned woman knew the details of that particular case quite well. She had picked it up and glanced over it time and time again despite her brain screaming at her that she had needed to focus on actual paying cases for at least a week. She moved the obscuring datapad out of the way, eyes lingering on the file and its familiar contents.
An ongoing series of break-ins, all with an eerily similar modus operandi.
Absentmindedly, she picked up the folder and opened it, fingering the glossy photo that had nearly fallen into her lap as she did so. It was of a debris-strewn street, with burn and scorch marks littering the ground, broken chunks of rubble and shards of glass everywhere. One street sign in the left-hand corner of the picture had been ripped out of the ground and completely twisted into an undecipherable mangled ball of metal.
According to witnesses, what she was staring at was the supposed aftermath of a fight between two Specials. A battle that had occurred remarkably close by and around the same time as one of the reported break-ins. She couldn't help but wonder if there was some kind of connection…
Her phone went off just then. Kimball frowned at the noise, figuring that it signaled the end of her break time. She closed the folder and tossed it back onto the top of the pile on her desk. She watched as the pile threatened to spill on to the ground before turning her attention to the device beeping rather intrusively a few centimeters away.
"Chorus Private Investigations." Kimball spoke professionally when she finally accepted the call, "How can I help you?"
"Is this Vanessa Kimball?" A curt, down-to-business female voice that Kimball did not recognize in the slightest asked on the other end of the line.
That in and of itself was surprising. Most of the people who called her usually ended up being repeat clients.
Kimball nodded, though she knew that the other person could not see it, "This is she." She raised a dark eyebrow, "And you are…?"
The line went quiet for a few minutes. Kimball tapped her fingers on the edge of her desk, wondering if she should just hang up. She really didn't need to be dealing with another prank phone call, after all. But then…
"I hear that you handle Specials cases."
Alarm bells went off in Kimball's mind, and she straightened in her chair. Her investigation of Specials cases was something that she tried to keep particularly discreet given the public's shaky view of them. She never advertised that the police came to her with particularly difficult ones, or just why that was.
"How do you know that?" Kimball finally asked, surprised at how even and professional her tone still was.
"We need to talk." Was all that was said before the other end of the line went completely dead.
Three figures stood side-by-side on a rooftop overlooking a rather nondescript government building across a busy city street.
One of the figures, a brown-haired man dressed in blue with white and yellow accents on his outfit, peered over the edge of the roof at the hustle and bustle going on farther below. "Oh, wow! Everyone looks like ants from up here!" The man exclaimed rather jubilantly, pointing down to the street.
The other male in the group, tan-skinned with black hair that almost flashed purple in certain lights, let out a tired sigh at the exclamation. He was also wearing blue, though his outfit was only decorated with white trim. Carefully, he put his hand on the other's shoulder, "Don't get too close to the edge again, Mike." He scolded, "You remember what happened last time, don't you?"
"Yes." Mike's pale face darkened slightly at the recollection, "Falling was not fun, Ezra."
"Neither was nearly breaking my arm trying to catch you." Ezra noted, turning to the lone woman in their midst just then, "Are we just about ready, Vera?"
The dark-skinned woman with a shock of rather dark pink hair was dressed in cobalt blue with white and rubine accents. Her attention was still pretty much entirely devoted to the building across the street from where they were standing, though she managed to spare a second to mumble under her breath, "Guys, come on! Remember our codenames?"
"Oh. Right. Er," the two men glanced at one another before Ezra coughed and self-corrected, "Are we just about ready, Ohio?"
"I'm still Iowa, right?" Mike asked hesitatingly.
Ezra nodded.
"And you're…?" The other man prompted gently.
"Idaho. Like I told you the last fucking time you asked." Idaho sighed and shook his head, "I still think you need to see another doctor, man."
"Thanks for the concern, but I'm feeling as fine as ever!" Iowa supplied cheerfully.
"Right." Idaho glanced at everyone again and asked once more, "So, are we ready or what?"
"I am! I am!"
Iowa waved his arm up and down in the air as if he were a student trying to get his name called in class, while Ohio simply sighed. Her determined, brown-eyed gaze never left their target.
Idaho frowned, "Hey, are you okay?" He asked Ohio cautiously, "You've been really quiet and sullen recently."
"Yeah, way more than usual!" Iowa added in oh-so-helpfully.
Ohio finally turned her attention away from what was across the street to regard her two waiting teammates, "I'm fine, guys. Really." She assured them, although it wasn't said in the confident tone that they were used to.
Idaho frowned, "But…?"
"But I'm just not that sure about any of this anymore!" She admitted rather loudly, her shoulders sagging heavily with the weight of her confession.
The two men looked at one another, Idaho running a hand through his dark head of hair in frustration, "Are you fucking kidding me?" He stated, "You're the one who told us that we needed to do whatever we could to have a reason to keep going!"
Ohio's shoulders slumped even more at the reminder and Iowa stepped forward, "Especially after Freelancer just dumped us in the middle of nowhere." He added softly.
"M—Mike…" She reached out to pat Iowa's shoulder consolingly.
"Yeah," Idaho reiterated as he watched the exchange between his friends, "At least now we are doing something to prove ourselves useful. I figured you would be happiest with that."
"I—I am!" Ohio shakily confirmed with a nod of her head, "But stealing files on Specials just seems wrong." She frowned thoughtfully, "And why are we being told to do so anyways?"
"Like Freelancer ever told us fucking anything." Idaho remarked, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice as he added, "Let's just think of it as stealing the files back from the wrong hands, okay?"
"Besides, since Charon saved us, I doubt they're going to be using them for anything bad!" Iowa stated reassuringly, flashing a bright and rather innocent smile at his teammates.
Ohio couldn't help but smile herself at their assurances, "Yeah, I guess you're right." She told them, genuine warmth shining in her eyes, "Thanks, you two."
"You're welcome!" Iowa beamed back.
Ohio straightened her back, clapping her hands together as a determined look crossed over her features, "All right! Well, now that we've settled that we might as well get things moving!"
Idaho smirked and punched her good-naturedly on the shoulder, "The real reason you were probably being all moody was because Sherry and the others are on a different mission right now, huh?" He teased.
Iowa let out a soft giggle as Ohio's face darkened significantly with her sudden blush, "G—guys! Shut up!"
Author's Notes: …Jensen is so going to buy herself something really nice with all of the babysitting money she is bound to be getting soon! XD
This was the first time that I have ever written for The Triplets, so I hope that I got their characterization down okay. It was fun writing their and Kimball's introductions in this story-verse! :D
Next time in Specials: the identity of Kimball's mystery caller is revealed (though I am guessing it probably won't be too big of a surprise for anyone! XD), the Reds and Blues begin their mission, Simmons scolds Grif yet again, Washington is back to his old stalking/lurking habits, and we are introduced to the awesomeness that is Doctor Emily Grey! XD
Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this chapter! :D