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Half Remembered Dream
Once she got outside, Ana only had a few moments to catch her breath and clench her fists.
She felt bad, having to trick him to coming with her – but he had actually started it with his quips and ways to just try to get a rise out of her. If Roxy wasn't there she would've calmed down enough to tell him what was really going on.
But maybe this was better… maybe this was the way she was supposed to tell him. Not tell him, but show him.
And then there was Kennedy and whatever the hell that was.
Their relationship was almost nonexistent. He was the silent broody type, and her, uncomfortable with any type of silence, always cracked a joke around him; trying to turn that frown into something else.
She knew it wasn't romantic. Stories and rumors floated around about how Kennedy was maybe asexual – and from spending time with him, she believed them. But the fact that Kennedy was throwing knives in her name, and confronting Eggsy just now… she really wasn't sure what to think.
She had enough time to release another deep breath before Eggsy appeared next to her, asking her questions in rapid succession, none of which she even heard. She held up her hand and by some miracle he stopped talking. She let out a deep breath with a smile as she closed her eyes and tilted her head up to the sun.
She felt his hand wrap around her wrist and she moved quickly, turning and using her free hand to push at his chest. He stumbled back a step and let go of her.
"You don't get to touch me, understood?" she snapped.
He took a step forward, barely an inch between them. He opened his mouth to say something, a gleam in his eye, but the sound of wheels on gravel stopped them.
She took a step back as the cab drove up and stopped right next to them, the driver jumping out of the car and rushing to their side to open the door for them.
She held out a hand for him to go first, along with the driver.
Eggsy looked between them, and then finally climbed in, Ana following.
They rode in silence until the cab merged onto the 405, and Eggsy spoke.
"What are you on about, Linc?"
"I'm 'on about' nothing, Galahad."
There was a beat of silence before he repeated his question.
"What are you on-"
"You know..." she turned to face him, "basic etiquette tells me I should be acting a certain way, but fuck that. All I'm gonna say is I'm taking you to this location for a fucking reason. Please, for both of our sakes, understand that whatever is happening right now, it pertains to you."
Thankfully after that, the cab was silent, save for the occasional curses and epithets from the driver navigating Los Angeles traffic.
All until they turned onto Forest Lawn lane, and she heard Eggsy cough on a breath.
It was an agonizing minute or two of silence as the car drove past the gate and onto the grounds, slowly coming to a stop.
Ana leaned forward, resting a hand on the driver's shoulder before she exited the cab, Eggsy doing the same and quickly coming around to meet her.
She took a deep breath and bent down, removing her shoes and resting them near the back wheel of the cab; Eggsy hesitated, but then followed suit. She looked up at him, but he was avoiding her gaze. She thumped her fist on the trunk and after a second it popped open, showing two flower bouquets. She grabbed the one of dark crimson roses and handed it to Eggsy, who wordlessly took it.
She walked past him and onto the grass, passing a row of headstones before coming across a gated area, bringing out a set of keys to open it, and finally stopping in front of a tombstone.
It was blank except for the Kingsman symbol along with the words 'A faithful agent of the world, through and through'. There was only the year of death printed – the birth year left blank.
She heard an indiscernible noise come from Eggsy, and she took a deep breath to keep herself from crying.
"I was one of the first on the scene in Kentucky," she began.
Their briefing was short and scarce of details: massive radio-frequency signals had erupted inside of a small church, with reports of gunshots and no details of wether there were survivors. On the heli ride over, some of the agents had muttered about another mass shooting, however it was quashed when Kennedy had said the local authorities would have been called for such an event.
As they circled around the church before landing, it was an eerie sight - the parking lot was full of cars, and a single body lay lifeless outside the entrance.
The helicopter hadn't even landed before she jumped down, rushing to the lone body outside the church.
He was still as stone, the color almost gone from his skin, and the pool of blood surrounding his head still looked fresh. He had on glasses but one of the lenses was cracked and broken, the glass embedded in the skin underneath – the whole eye a bloody and gory mess… she put a hand to his neck and felt pulse. It was barely there, but it meant he was still fighting.
"Medic, now!" she shouted as she brought out her knife and tried to cut the man's suit sleeve to cover the eye – but it wouldn't tear. She faltered, and tried again, but it was impossible to cut. She blinked and tucked away that information for later as she acted quick, untucking her own shirt and cutting off a ragged strip before applying it to the eye after she removed the glasses. She knew there was glass, but there was no chance in saving the eye. The man's life, however – it was a possibility she wasn't willing to pass by.
"Lincoln…" Kennedy said, standing above them. She turned her head to look up at him and raised her voice even more as she repeated, "Medic, now!"
She saw Kennedy raise a hand and then lead the team inside as she turned back to the man. Once the other agents were inside, she heard so many expletives on her comm that she turned it off, instead focusing on the man in front of her. A medical agent was next to her, checking vitals and bringing out a foam neck brace, gently putting them on.
She turned to the agent, who looked at her but then shook his head.
She frowned, and felt the man's wrist again… the pulse was still there.
"Adrenaline. We need adrenaline."
"Lincoln-"
"This man still has a pulse. Get me some fucking adrenaline, now. It will wake up his brain – keep him from going brain dead. He can help us learn what happened here."
"There were cameras inside…"
"And there are cameras across the street, outside of the liquor store," she said, raising her arm to point it out. She'd done her homework during the ride - there was barely any time to gear up once Washington called an emergency meeting about a massacre in Kentucky. "But a first hand witness account is worth much more. Either call an ambulance or take us to the chopper now – we have back-up on standby to pick up the others."
The medic hesitated.
"I swear to god-"
"You gonna help me get the stretcher or not?" he snapped, standing up and rushing towards the helicopter. She followed and helped him extract the gurney. They worked fluidly, lifting the man up and rolling him back onto the copter, the medic making the announcement on coms.
She closed the door as the helicopter lifted off the ground and went to sit next to the man, looking him over.
Expensive suit, coiffed hair, bruised knuckles, cuts on his face, bullets in his suit…
She did a double take and leant over him, reaching forward and taking a bullet out of the suit – it was crushed as though it had hit Kevlar. It would explain why it wouldn't cut...
"This man has a bullet-proof suit. Adrenaline, now."
The medic blanched and then dug in his bag before coming forward with a large needle. He gave her a look before he winced and stabbed the needle in the man's chest.
He pulled out the needle and tossed it, turning to insert an IV needle in his arm, all the while she stared at the man, waiting…
Instead of him coming awake with a start, his eyes slowly opened.
The hand she was holding squeezed tight, and his eyes met hers.
"Where Eggsy?"
She blinked, unsure what he was saying.
"Eggsy. Where Eggsy?" he repeated.
"Eggsy isn't here. What's your name?"
He only nodded.
"Speech patterns mean-" the medic started.
She reached a hand out and pushed the medic away. She knew the moment she saw this body that there was no hope of saving him. But she knew two things. One: that this man was not a regular civilian and any information could be vital to the mission. And two: that this man was killed in cold blood, and he deserved the honor of true last words.
"Eggsy…"
"Eggsy is safe," she lied, not knowing who the heck Eggsy was.
The man seemed to calm down at that, but his behavior still seemed erratic.
"Cards… the cards… the leg swords… the lisp…"
She rested a hand on the man's good cheek.
"What happened?"
"Lost control."
She nodded.
"Happens to the best of us, eh? Who are you with? Your suit…"
"Eggsy… I'm sorry. Sorry Eggsy," the man whispered, his color fading.
"No," she said, squeezing his hands, shaking him a little. "Stay with me, I've got you."
"Sorry Eggsy," he repeated, moving a shaking hand into his suit pocket, bringing out a folded envelope which dropped from his shaky hands.
"Please… stay here," she said, squeezing his hands again.
"Sorry, Eggsy."
"Help me find him. Stay with me and we will find him. We will find whoever who did this to you. We will find Eggsy, please,"
"Sorry, Eggsy…" he faded.
"No, no no no no no," she said, her voice cracking as his grip on her hand loosened and then fell limp.
She stared at the man, his one good eye fluttering closed. She watched as the medic's hand touched the man's neck, feeling for a pulse.
The look he gave her said enough.
She covered her mouth to muffle a sob, still squeezing the limp and now cold hand, her other hand to grab the envelope. Perfect calligraphy read the name 'Eggsy'.
Instead of reading it, she stuffed it into her pocket.
She heard a rough cough and blinked out of her haze, still staring at the tombstone.
"A medic helped me patch him up, get him back to the heli."
Eggsy took a step backwards, out of view from her vision, but she continued over the muffled sound of silent crying.
"He was surprisingly conscious, barely, but he was muttering something over and over again… 'Sorry, Eggsy'. So when I heard Roxy call you that name…" she stopped, taking a deep breath, surprised that her eyes welled up, "That's when I knew."
Eggsy sniffed, and her whole body shivered as she reached a shaky hand into her pocket, bringing out the same envelope the man had handed to her in his dying moments. She never read it. She had one or two weak moments when she wanted to, but something always held her back. She had said herself she wanted the man, Harry, to have the honor of true last words. And those last words were in the envelope - but they weren't meant for her.
She held out her hand, blindly waiting for him to take it.
When the envelope left her grasp, she continued.
"We knew he was Kingsman from his suit and the tech he had, but the stone is empty because we didn't know his name-"
"Harry," Eggsy choked. He cleared his throat. "Harry Hart."
"We'll have it engraved right away," she whispered into the silence.
"Like I said… I don't know the words. The only ones I do know are I'm sorry. And… and I know what you're feeling right now. And that this man, in front of us right now, is one of the many reasons why I met you that one night in New York. He's one of the reasons why we're working together, and he's one of the main reasons that we're going to get revenge."
She heard Eggsy take in a few deep breaths.
"Take as long as you like, we'll meet back at the cab," she said before turning and walking back, keeping her head down to give Eggsy privacy in his state.
Once she reached the road she dabbed at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve before taking the second bouquet of multi colored daisies from the trunk, walking a little ways down and turning onto a row of tombstones, stopping at the spot where her twin sister was buried.
She picked up the dead flowers and replaced it with the new bouquet before she sat down cross-legged in front of the tombstone, her fingers brushing the edge.
She took in a deep breath.
"Hey. It's me. Obviously.
"I talked to Mrs. Beltran. Remember her? I thought I played her, those mandatory sessions… but then Galahad turns out to be Eggsy and all of a sudden I'm the one making an appointment. So it turns out she was playing me the entire time.
"Therapists. Can't live without em… can't live with them if you're emotionally stable. But then again, who really is these days, right?"
She shook her head, fighting a grin, and took a deep breath before she continued.
"His name is Harry. On the ride here, for the first time… it wasn't memories of you. With Eggsy sitting next to me… it was memories of him. Finding him in that parking lot, the puddle of blood. You know the story I gave you – I tore my shirt on a nail… but I tore my shirt to stop the bleeding. You were so amazing that day when I came home. You knew I'd been through something but didn't pry and instead just made us margaritas and we binged The Office.
"I thought we might have a chance with Harry… the bullet went through his eye... it was my once hopeful self projecting as usual. He was so… torn. I… I didn't know that I'd ever feel empathetic to someone dying from brain loss after the fact – but I did. He was a test run for Valentine's Chip. He killed everyone in that church. I killed multiple people during V-Day.
"He was calling out for Eggsy in his final moments, saying he was sorry. The coincidence is almost uncanny…
"Kennedy once told me I was lucky that I was there with you. He'd had a fellow SEAL who… I don't want to repeat it, but now that I'm here, after bringing Eggsy to Harry… fuck – Kennedy's right.
"I was… I'm not gonna say that word, but that's what I was. Right now I'm trying to imagine what would have happened if I'd lost you and I wasn't there… but the thing is I can't imagine it. I'm a different person now… but I'd be a total monster if I lost you and I was somewhere else. But now I'm here. And… and I'm a monster, even though I was there when I lost you. Held you in my arms as the life inside of you faded away."
She let out a sob, not realizing she was crying. She let herself cry for a few seconds more and wiped her face, rubbing her eyes hard before she let go and took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry I haven't been around. I miss you, every day. I wish I dreamed more about our good times rather than the one bad time. I wish a lot of things, Natalia."
She stood up, taking a few deep breaths, letting out the last of her tears before wiping her face.
She walked away from the tombstone and up towards the cab, where Eggsy was already waiting.
She reached the cab, tossing the dead bouquet in the trunk before slamming it closed, moving towards her shoes and slipping them back on.
She wasn't sure which one of them let out a deep breath, but she looked up at him to see his mouth open, ready to say something. She squared back her shoulders, bracing for what was to come.
Instead of speaking, he slowly raised his hand, his gaze unreadable but his eyes glassy as he squeezed her shoulder, his touch lingering before he dropped his hand and stepped away, climbing into the cab before the driver could open the door for him. The driver rushed around the other side, giving a consoling smile to her as he opened and closed the door for her.
The ride home was the worst kind of awkward silence.
They saw a nasty fender bender on the side of the road; two grown men yelling at each other over a dented bumper – and none of them said anything.
There was a crowd of people on the corner of Sunset, holding signs reading "Peace Now" and "Drones are killing machines" and "Oil = War" – but they said nothing.
Even at a red light, they both turned their heads to watch the driver in the car next to them performing an intense air drums solo as metal rock music blasted out of his car – and they said nothing.
The sound of a door opening and closing brought her out of her daze and she blinked rapidly as she looked around, seeing Eggsy exit the cab. She turned the other way to see the driver holding her side door open, smiling softly down at her – it wasn't her first visit to Forest Lawn with Jack. She nodded and exited the cab, emitting a soft "Thanks". He closed the door and hesitated, looking between her and Eggsy.
"First time you've brought a guest," he said softly.
Ana looked over her shoulder, and Eggsy cleared his throat and turned away, putting his hands in his pockets.
"Yeah," she said, letting out a deep breath, "probably the last. The flowers were beautiful, thank you."
Jack gave her a small smile and nodded before he climbed back into the cab and drove off, leaving the two of them alone in front of Headquarters.
They both stood there awkwardly, not looking at each other.
"Lincoln-"
"Eggsy, I'm sorry-" they both started at the same time, and then stopped.
But then she realized what he had said and turned towards him, frowning.
"Seriously, still with this Lincoln bullshit?!" she snapped. After what she had just given him… he still couldn't call her by her name?
"What," he started, taking a step forward into her space, and she caught her breath, "I'm to use your codename, or the nickname. What about your real name?"
She shivered, in anger as well as their close proximity.
"That's all you'll be getting. Oh and by the way, you're welcome!" she seethed before turning away.
A hand grabbed her arm and instead of turning in retaliation and punching him, she stood still.
"Let. Me. Go." She was still raw from talking to her sister – that, and reliving the events with Harry… she felt emotionally and physically drained.
"Lincoln…. Linc, please," he said softly, and she felt something at the sound of her codename nickname in his voice.
She would never admit it to him, but she quite liked the sound of it.
"Please," he whispered this time, and she took in a shuddering breath.
He pulled on her wrist, spinning her around as his other hand wrapped around her back and before she knew it he was pulling her into a hug.
"Don't," he muttered when she resisted after a second or two. He squeezed her tight and she stayed still, resisting the warm feeling from his embrace... but her body had a different idea. Her arms raised and she hugged him, and as soon as her arms touched his back Eggsy hugged her even tighter.
She wasn't sure how long they stood there while an all out war happened between her brain and the stupid organ in her chest, her wrapped in his arms.
When he finally pulled back their cheeks brushed together, and he kissed her there.
"Thank you. There are no words… but thank you."
She repressed a shiver as he turned away and walked into headquarters.
She took a deep breath, and instead of following, she took the path that lead her far away.
"One mission, I'll never forget," Arthur started and then shook his head, smiling – leaving her in a short state of shock – "was, and I know this is a cliché, but it was that one time in Blackpool."
Ana raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her Angry Orchard, glancing down at the two six packs they'd almost finished.
After Eggsy had left her Ana had walked to the furthest point inside the perimeter of the Headquarters, laying down on the grass and watching the clouds roll by when she heard someone approach. She'd sat up, a retort for Dylan ready when she stopped and realized it was none other than the head of the UK Branch himself, Arthur. His usual hunting sweater was off, leaving him in just a button down shirt and slacks. He'd even had his sleeves rolled up and was holding two six packs of Angry Orchard.
"Fancy a drink?" he'd said. She titled her head a the choice of drink but then nodded, patting the grass beside her.
And now here they were, though Ana was sure it was a weird dream, more than a six-pack in – "Too sweet but it does carry a kick, does it not?" Arthur had said after their second bottle – both tipsy on their way to drunk, telling stories.
"Dude," she said, grinning in anticipation for the explanation, "you know I'm not from the UK, what makes Blackpool a cliché?"
Arthur grinned.
"Dude," he said slowly, as though feeling the word out. "Dude… such a westerner word."
Ana laughed.
"Us westerners, we love our prim language."
Arthur laughed at that and Ana watched it, wondering when the last time it had happened for him.
"Well, I was using the word 'cliché' due to the fact that you 'Westerner's' created it: what happens in Blackpool stays in Blackpool."
"Are you saying there's a British version of Las Vegas?"
"There's a whatever version of Las Vegas all around the world, my dear, the West just started the saying before anybody else thought of it."
Ana took a second at that.
"Okay," she said slowly, "let's have a lesson on linguistics later. But now's when you continue the story in Blackpool."
Arthur nodded, and brought the bottle to his mouth, tilting his head all the way back to finish what was left before he slid the bottle into an empty cardboard slot.
"Well, as it goes in the 'Las Vegas' of the British world, there were strippers."
"Oh, please tell me he had to go undercover."
Arthur laughed out loud, uproariously.
"Oh, how I wish, but no. No, Harry had to infiltrate such an establishment as a new owner, to get to the target who was a frequent visitor."
Arthur reached for another bottle but Ana shot out her hand and stopped him. He met her gaze and then nodded as he pulled back, resting his arm on his bended knees.
"Turns out the target was not only a scumbag in business – arms dealing as well as drugs, paying off influential people such as judges, the like – but was a scumbag client. None of the women were his fans."
"This sounds like it's going to be amazing."
"The mission went sideways and Harry had to use… unconventional ways to secure the perpetrator… and-"
"The women helped, didn't they?" Ana asked, her smile wide. Arthur nodded.
"The dancers are deceptively strong-"
"Deceptively?! They can hold themselves in the air by their legs from a metal pole… I'm surprised strippers aren't recruited to be MMA fighters or better."
Arthur let out another laugh at that.
"Let's just say they used their strength to their advantage… Harry himself had to pull the women off of him to contain the target."
Ana took a second to obtain the information, and then bursted out laughing. Almost uncontrollably. She couldn't help but imagine dancers using their platform heels and toned bodies to take a man down – all along with a soundtrack of a rhythmic song.
She didn't notice Arthur had joined in her laughter until she had calmed down. She turned and saw a tear streaming down his face as he still looked to the sky and laughed.
"I might have a better story for you."
"That's enough stories for now, I reckon," a voice interrupted.
Arthur and Ana turned their heads to see Eggsy standing above them, looking down at the finished six-packs of the hard cider, and then up to their faces – pausing for a second before the corner of his mouth twitched up and he turned away.
"Jesus, Arthur, you're drunk?"
Ana only stared at Eggsy, trying to gage his emotions. However, he was stiff, his body and even his attitude as he turned back to face them, holding out a hand towards her.
She glanced at his hand and then at the ground. The ground seemed wavy but she was her own stubborn self as she curved one leg under the other, turned onto all fours and pushed herself up to a standing position. She took a step back to steady herself but waved her hand away as Eggsy reached out to help her.
They both turned to Arthur who glanced at the two of them, his face full of regret but also contentment.
"I seemed to have made a mistake," he muttered.
Eggsy opened his mouth but she slapped his arm and slowly crouched in front of Arthur.
"Remembering those we've lost – no matter what kind of way we do it – is nothing to regret."
Arthur blinked at her through his glasses and nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Ana pushed herself to stand up again, proud she didn't stumble in her more than tipsy state. She held out a hand and saw another hand reach out. Arthur smiled brightly as he took both hers and Eggy's hands to help himself up.
"If I'd known alcohol was the answer for the two of you-"
"Sir, I'd advise you don't finish that thought," Eggsy said as he brought Arthur's arm around his shoulder to help him stand. He looked over to Ana, an indescribable look on his face that her anxiety interpreted as a judging look.
She immediately shut down, relaxing her body and face as she bent down and picked up the six packs by their handles and then walked towards headquarters, ignoring both Eggsy's and Arthur's (somewhat drunken) calls.
She had just reached the doors when they caught up to her.
The doors opened and Roxy and Dylan were there, both concerned looks on their faces that soon turned disbelieving at the sight in front of them; Ana holding two six packs of empty bottles, and Eggsy supporting his drunken leader.
"Lancelot, dear," Arthur said a bit loudly, "I'd like to take you up on your offer of tea and gadget ideas. Something warm does indeed sound pleasing at the moment."
"Oh, my god," Roxy whispered before giving a short shake of her head. She looked at Ana, then Eggsy, then back to Ana before mouthing the words 'Thank You'.
Ana blinked and in that split second Roxy was smiling brightly, walking forward to relieve Eggsy of their leader.
"Arthur, nothing sounds better than a hot cup of chamomile right now," she said, leading them both down the entrance hall.
Dylan looked between Eggsy and her, then back at Eggsy, staring for longer than what was deemed normal before he took a step forward and took the six-packs from her hands, also disappearing down the hall, the main doors closing behind him.
"What in the fresh hell was that?!" Ana asked, turning her back to Eggsy instead of facing him.
Turns out he was the braver one at the moment as he came around to face her.
"What, the part where you got my leader drunk? Or the other part which I have no idea of… because you got my leader drunk."
"You told Roxy," was all she said.
He blinked at that, but then nodded.
"She's my Dylan."
Ana tilted her head at that, the corner of her mouth twitching at the thought that Eggsy was trying to relate.
"He came to me with the alcohol. He's a superior officer, who am I to deny-"
"He was laughing, Linc."
She shrugged but then grinned.
"I'm not sure if you yourself has partaken in such an activity, but usually when one consumes alcohol, moods can-"
"Cut the shit, what were you guys talking about?"
She blinked her hazy thoughts away.
"Harry," she said simply.
Eggsy did a double take.
"You were talking about… him…" his voice faltered.
"He was telling me about a mission in Blackpool-"
"Blackpool?!" Eggsy shouted and Ana raised her eyebrows.
"Damn, I need to go to Blackpool, seems like a riot."
"Look, even though I knew you read the letter, I appreciate-"
Due to her state, it took her longer to realize what he had said, but when she did she executed a rough punch to his gut.
He let out a strained breath as he took a step back and bent over, holding his stomach.
"First asleep, now drunk?" he muttered to himself.
"You really think that of me?" she spat, even literally.
He raised his head and stared at her.
"You're tellin' me you kept that envelope this whole time and never opened it."
She frowned at him, the feeling to cause bodily harm strong through her veins.
"It wasn't addressed to me, you fucker. Harry's dying words were for Eggsy. Not me, not anyone else."
"You didn't read it?"
She clenched and unclenched her fists.
"To prevent our already strained relationship from further deteriorating, I'm going to walk away now. I highly suggest you don't follow me."
She turned - maybe a little too quickly as she stumbled a bit, but kept walking. Through the doors and down the hall to the elevator. She imagined a long shower and some binging of a comedy, she wasn't sure if she wanted to start The Office over again or try Seinfeld when she heard footsteps following her.
She reached forward and missed the elevator button. A hand reached from behind to press it.
"I told you not to follow me," she said softly.
"I know," Eggsy replied, "but I barely understood what you said, you were slurring."
"Damn. I was so eloquent, too," she muttered. Eggsy laughed softly.
The elevator doors opened and she walked through, Eggsy following.
She leant against the wall as the elevator descended. They rode in silence.
There was a ding as the doors opened again, and Eggsy dared to rest his had lightly on her back and guide her to her room.
He reached for the doorknob before she could, standing close behind her.
"I'm sorry I accused you of reading it," he said softly, "I think a part of me is more upset than relieved that you were there in his final moments."
She turned her head, and immediately thought 'Mistake!' when she noticed how close he was, and she was seeing him in a new way. The small gold flecks in his eyes. A small scar on his eyebrow.
"Relieved?" she whispered.
He tilted his head.
"When you want to, you have a calming demeanor. I've seen it, and I'm only saying this to you because I know you're drunk and probably wont remember this, but I want to be on the receiving end of it."
"I've been calm with you."
"You talked down Kennedy who was a second away from snapping my neck."
"Gah! Kennedy is a pitbull. Show tough, he's tougher. Show love... show love and it takes a while but he'll give it back. In his own way."
"Love?" Eggsy asked.
"Not like that, you loon. A dog, a love. A dog love."
She frowned, twisting her face. She wasn't making sense and the full weight of knowing she was drunk finally hit her.
"You are... hard and unbreakable, but you've got a heart."
She blinked, and furrowed her eyebrows, unsure what to feel about his comment.
"Don't punch me for saying that," Eggsy continued.
"I think... I think I'm too drunk for that," she said.
He smiled, and she blinked at the sight so close.
"Get some rest. We'll discuss getting my leader drunk later."
She opened the door and stepped through the threshold, turning around and using the door to keep her balance. Eggsy had taken a few steps away.
"Galahad," she called out. He stopped and turned slowly, his face reproachful.
"Get Washington drunk and we'll call it even."
His mouth slowly transformed into a grin.
"Challenge accepted."
Thank you for reading and reviewing! I also accept and read all messages! Now, it's not a promise but I might send out updates sooner rather than later, I had an idea for a mission that I'm excited to write and finish, and I feel if I send out chapters and get closer to it, it will make me write it! Hope that makes sense.
Half Remembered Dream by Hanz Zimmer