notes: so many years of nothing,,,2 chapters in one week? idk but i'll take it. as always...i love them so much. i honestly forget they're not my own characters but alas finn and holley belong to pixar
maps
wait; they don't love you like i love you.
;;
five times Finn should've taken his own advice
(and one time he's glad he didn't).
;;
[five.]
The air outside is bitter, the kind of chill that prickles against your skin and seeps down into the bones, the kind that you can't seem to shake off even when you've gone back inside to escape it.
So logically, Finn is standing outside.
"Well, here we are," Finn muses. He doesn't expect an answer, considering this is a cemetery and he's alone in the field of graves. "I'm talking to a headstone and you're…" he pauses, looking at the grass beneath his feet. "You're somewhere down there."
He gives one wistful laugh. "Who would've thought things would come to this, eh, mate?"
Something he never lets himself think back on is the last image he has of Leland Turbo. Or at least, what was left of him. A broken, dismembered body shoved into a wooden crate under the firelight on that god forsaken oil platform. Of course, it's not the worst thing he's ever seen as an agent, there've been plenty of fucked up sights, all that he keeps filed away in the dark place of his mind. But it's one of the most haunting, that he's certain of.
If you were to ask what's the key to being a good secret agent, the most important thing he's learned in all these years, he would answer with one thing: don't look back.
It's what he's told Holley a million times, starting back with her first kill, when she'd taken some goon out confidently in the heat of the moment but then he'd found her crying silently in the back of the jet a few hours later.
Then she'd looked at him with those big green eyes and asked, "Will it get easier?"
"It will," he'd assured her solemnly, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. "Just keep moving forward."
He remembers his first confirmed kill.
So many years and so many bodies later, he still remembers the exact second he pulled the trigger and saw a wall painted with blood.
It does get easier.
And he takes his own advice most of the time.
But this is the first time he's visited the old agent's grave. He's allowed to think back for once.
The first time he ever met Leland Turbo was a lifetime ago, when he was younger and newer and in a world of shit, compromised under deep cover in an Italian mob that was trading black market explosives and packing way more weapons than he was.
Turbo swooped in as back up, guns blazing, and pulled him out of his world of shit wearing a dashing smile all the while. There was a reason they called him Turbo; he was fast as hell.
Which was good because in that moment, the pair had run for their lives, firing guns back over their shoulders with the mob close behind. They dove headfirst into the hot little red convertible Leland had pulled up in, Finn in the passenger seat. Leland revved the engine hard and sped off with the squeal of tires on pavement.
And Finn was laughing.
He never felt as alive as when he was almost dead.
A few of the Italians had hopped into their own military-grade truck, speeding after, but they weren't nearly as fast. There was a loud whistling sound behind them; Leland swerved and a car they just barely avoided went up in flames.
Finn twisted back to see the mafia loading up another round in a rocket launcher on the hood of the truck, and yelled in surprise, "they're shooting missiles at us!"
Leland grinned. "Good."
He floored the gas harder.
The mob may have had missiles, but Leland's car was unmatched for speed.
There was another loud boom, and then a bright burst of flame just behind them.
"We're out of range," said Finn, still laughing as he watched the Italian truck fade into the distance through the scope on an AR-15 propped against the trunk of the car. A third and final-and wasted-missile hit the ground well aways from behind.
Leland called to him over his shoulder, over the crackling explosion, "Not bad for your first solo job, McMissile!"
Leland never dropped the name, and then got everyone else in CHROME using it too, and thus Finn McMissile was born.
And Finn McMissile stayed in the field; Leland Turbo did not.
It's sad, really, thinking back on the old days, but that's not entirely a bad thing always. He finds he doesn't mind it right now.
"They taught us about him," comes Holley's voice from behind him, breaking Finn out of his thoughts with a jolt. The snow crunches beneath her feet as she walks up to join him. "Back at the Academy."
Finn clears his throat and says, "he was the best agent I ever met." He chuckles, "he certainly saved my ass more than once."
"I wish I could've known him."
"Me too," Finn agrees. "He would've been absolutely charmed by you, Miss Shiftwell."
Holley nudges him with her elbow. "They taught us about you too, you know."
Finn gives a soft laugh, then goes quiet and says, "I should've saved him."
The younger agent bites her lip; she knows he's not asking for a response and there isn't one she could give him anyway.
So they stand in a mutually understood silence.
His partner's presence, not just here in the graveyard but in his once lonely life entirely, is comforting as always. Him and Leland, they always worked alone before. Sure, Leland was the first he'd call in for backup without a doubt, but they were two lone wolves. Having a partner, someone always there beside him without a second to lose, is something else entirely. Something he's grateful for-something he couldn't bear losing.
If something like this, something horrible, ever happened to Holley...he can't even begin to think about it. So he doesn't.
"I've never told you how I got my name, have I?" he asks suddenly.
Holley looks at him and says, good-natured, "Of course not, Mr. McMissile, you don't do backstories."
He smiles at her wistfully and says, "I'll make an exception today."
There's another few beats of easy silence, then Holley says, "It's really freezing out here."
"It is, isn't it?" He's still looking down at the grave.
"Let's get you inside." Holley slips her hand into his and squeezes gently. "Come on," she says, tugging him away. "I'll buy you a drink."