Simmons has been overworking himself on a secret something. Grif wants to know what it is.
Pairings Beyond Grimmons:
~Background Docnut
~Background Sarcus
Other Notes for This Story:
~The fluff. Dear me, the fluff! XD
~Spoilers abound for Season 15.
Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue or any of the show's characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.
Make the Beach Come to You
A lot of odd things happened on the retirement moon. The type of strange occurrences one would choose not to dwell on overly much for the sake of their continued sanity. This had definitely been true before Dylan Andrews and Jax Jonez whisked the Reds and Blues away on another crazy and terrifying adventure. It was certainly true once they were finally able to return after things had managed to settle down. Well, settle down as best as it was going to for the time being.
Back in Blood Gulch and later on even in Valhalla, seeing a Blue sitting at the Reds' kitchen table with a box of crayons and a coloring book probably would have been one of those strange incidents. Now, it was something that fell well within the normal occurrences of any given week.
When exactly did their lives get even more fucked up than usual? Richard "Dick" Simmons had long stopped wasting the brain cells and processing power it took to even remotely figure out the answer to that question. It just wasn't fucking worth it.
"Morning, Caboose." Simmons said casually in way of greeting, sighing as he shook his head from where he had been standing just in front of the doorway contemplating his current life before walking over to the refrigerator.
"Good morning!" The relatively harmless (well, so long as you weren't on his team) rookie cheerfully supplied, "I like mornings. They start the day!"
"Uh-huh."
Well, good to know Caboose still knew certain time references at least. Sometimes, especially after they'd lost Epsilon, it almost seemed like the blond had given up on caring about that sort of thing. Caboose even worried Carolina and Washington with the odd hours he always seemed to keep now.
Before they had left Chorus, Andersmith had made all of the Reds and Blues promise to make sure that his captain got a decent amount of sleep. The group effort had resulted in quite a few rather odd sleepovers. Hell, during the fifth sleepover, both Grif and Simmons had partnered up with Carolina to figure out just where Donut was hiding his nail polish horde after yet another impromptu "makeover" in Fort Freckles.
"You shouldn't stare at the morning sun though." Caboose advised helpfully, as though convinced that Simmons was just about to go out and do that very thing, "I tried once and my eyes burned."
"Um, I'm fairly certain it's a bad idea to stare at the sun during any time of the day."
"Not at night if you can find it!" Caboose was happy to correct Simmons before his tone lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, "But the sun goes into hiding then. That's what my mom used to tell me."
"Right." Simmons said as he glanced around for the coffee pot, trying to ignore the fact that that's not really what happens to the sun. The scientifically-minded part of his brain really wanted to desperately correct the younger man, but the redhead thought that the little story Caboose's mother had come up with was rather touching in a way.
His parents wouldn't have even bothered, and Simmons was definitely not already planning on buying Baby Beginning Astronomy books or videos for the way too minute possibility he might ever have a child he could teach things to. Nope!
"I like to color in the mornings." Caboose had already moved on to a different topic, "Though coloring at any time is fun!"
Which further explained why the Blue carried crayons with him instead of extra ammunition. He carried batteries too now, in remembrance of Loco.
The silence was beginning to border on awkward, although conversations with Caboose tended to skirt that line anyway. Not that Simmons disliked him or anything! Actually, the two of them had been getting along surprisingly well following Caboose having picked up on Simmons missing Grif during the start of their latest adventure mishap. Truth be told, Simmons may have offered to stay up with Caboose for a few nights before Washington had come back from his recovery on Chorus so that the blond and Freckles weren't lonely. It was just that Simmons was never sure how to respond to the many bizarre things Caboose would say.
Thankfully, before he could get dragged into anymore odd conversation topics with Caboose, his orange-armored teammate clamored in, "Hey, Simmons." Dexter Grif greeted with a sleepy yawn.
It figured that the fat-ass would still be tired. He'd still been in bed when Simmons had exited his room across the hallway. Granted, that had been about four hours earlier than even Sarge stipulated they had to wake up, but Simmons was a firm believer in "the early bird gets the worm" or whatever the hell phrase meant he got up early.
Not to mention that Simmons may have gotten into the habit of stopping by and checking on Grif just to alleviate some weird nervous tick he had gotten into about wanting to make sure that Grif was still around and okay, but it wasn't weird or anything!
In Simmons' defense, the inventory checklists and the routine checkup on the pointless-but-still-should-be-done-regardless EMP cannon on the Warthog weren't going to complete themselves, now were they? His chore wheel wasn't going to get done if he slept in! Besides, he was still trying to get in more hours on a personal project that he had to take into account.
If Simmons had to make an educated guess based on past history, the chubby soldier's disheveled appearance here probably meant that Grif hadn't gotten up for another good eight or nine hours after the maroon-armored soldier had woken up. Seriously, it was no wonder Grif never really got anything done. Well, probably more of a combination of his sleeping habits and general laziness.
Except, Simmons corrected himself with a contemplative frown as he regarded his friend, that wasn't really always the case now, was it? Grif still slept in and lazed about as much as he could, but he definitely was putting in more effort, sometimes even on some of Sarge's more inane ideas. It was both nice to see in a way and disconcerting all at once. Simmons wasn't quite sure how to really broach the topic yet though.
As if reading Simmons' earlier thoughts about coffee, Grif handed him a cup from what was probably an earlier made batch. Simmons made a face at the cold bitterness of it, but coffee tasted worse reheated so he choked it down gratefully.
"Didn't have time to make some yourself before being a kiss-ass so early in the morning?" Grif asked, shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
It was their usual bickering ribbing, and Simmons responded to it with his usual lack-of-caffeine profoundness: "Bite me."
"Seriously, dude, I don't get how you can function with as little sleep as you get." Grif's tone now was more musing, and the slight deviation from their usual repartee caught the Dutch-Irishman slightly off-guard.
"Don't know how you can manage to not function with all of the extra hours you sleep." Simmons finally mumbled, hoping the mug he kept close to his mouth would hide any lingering traces of his earlier surprise.
His teammate raised a black eyebrow in response, "Uh, Simmons?" It's not so much about not functioning when you just choose not to do any work." Grif's tone almost sounded sagely, like he was passing off Words of Wisdom.
Simmons couldn't help but roll his eyes, "That's very wise, Grif."
"You should try it more often." Grif looked thoughtful again "Hell, you work enough for ten people."
"That's because certain people here don't tend to do any of their work!"
Grif looked at him with fake innocence, and Simmons gripped the coffee mug tightly with both hands to keep from strangling the tan man.
That was always the way things went with their exchanges: he either ended up thinking of ways he could inflict bodily harm on Grif (or just make his life a little more miserable for a while), or he wanted to do something else entirely to the other soldier. Something that was probably best not to think about too much.
It was especially odd when those signals got mixed up, as they had been doing with more frequency and intensity recently. That was definitely not helped by that Temple of Procreation business. Don't get him wrong! That business had been admittedly great, but it had made things so much more awkward and tense between the two of them in a lot of respects.
Like right now, when his mind went from thoughts of dropping the coffee mug to strangle Grif out of frustration, to dropping the coffee mug to pin Grif to the counter and shut him up before he could say anything else in a completely different way. Also out of frustration.
Neither of them were great with feelings, and they had staunchly been avoiding delving too much into the feelings that had been brought to the surface thanks to Tucker's stupid celebration stunt. Not to mention with the two of them just being relieved to be back together again after the whole "quitting and leaving" thing and…
Shit. If Dylan and Jax hadn't been there that one time in Temple's underwater lair, what would have ended up happening between them? The emotional answer terrified Simmons even more than the potential "kiss" one did, and let's just say that both potential scenarios had him wanting to puke because he would have totally screwed things up between them. He just fucking knew it!
"Whatever, man. I still think you work too hard." Grif was saying, his voice breaking Simmons away from his conflicting thoughts, "Look, you're turning red! You've probably overworked yourself and gotten a fever or something."
That made the heat rushing to the cyborg's still flesh-and-blood cheek become even more pronounced, and he had to steady himself to try to keep his tone even when he talked next: "And I'm sure you'd be an expert on working yourself that hard in the first place."
Oddly enough, he could almost swear he saw a tinge of darkening color and an almost pinkish hue on Grif's multi-toned cheeks. He did that more and more now, whenever they got into their "friend" talk, but what did Grif have to be flustered about? Showing mild concern for a friend and teammate wasn't anything embarrassing. So Simmons brushed that question from his mind a second later.
Despite the almost blush, Grif responded with a shrug, "Maybe not personally, but I do watch you do it an awful lot." He mumbled, more to himself than Simmons.
Simmons looked up, surprised, just in time to see Grif grimace as if he'd realized he had just been caught admitting something he'd rather not have anyone knowing. And, yes, this time his face took on a much more noticeable crimson hue. As if in response, Simmons could feel his own face heat up slightly.
"You…you do?" Simmons cursed himself mentally at how unsure his voice sounded. He'd been working so hard at getting rid of his insecurities, but somehow Grif in particular always had a way of drawing them out unexpectedly.
It took Grif a few seconds to recover from his initial embarrassment though he also seemed slightly unsure when he spoke up finally, "Well, yeah. I mean, how else would I know the dangers of overworking and reaffirm my commitment to making sure I never experience them?" He joked, "And I'm lazy and don't like to work in general, so there's that too."
Just like that, whatever awkwardness had just passed between them dissipated into their normal banter. It was both relieving and somewhat oddly disappointing to the two Red Team members.
"Now that talk time is over, can I have another juice box?" The blond Blue Team rookie sitting at the table inquired, as if on cue.
Both Grif and Simmons went red again, having completely forgotten Caboose being there during their exchange.
"S—sure, Caboose." Simmons went back to the refrigerator and looked at the shelves on the door.
He was surprised to find that, sure enough, there were juice boxes. He wondered if Sarge or Donut had gotten them on their last supply run to Chorus specifically because Caboose would pop up here every once in a while. Caboose had gotten addicted to a specific brand of juice that Andersmith apparently had been stockpiling for special occasions.
"Here you go." Simmons handed a carton with smiley-faced cartoon apples to the younger man. Seriously, the crap people try marketing to kids these days!
"Isn't that your fifth one since you got here?" Grif asked in a bored tone.
"I like juice." Caboose looked thoughtful, how odd that the expression he used made him look cross-eyed and like he was in slight discomfort (which, for all Simmons knew, was perhaps true), "And these ones taste better than the big juice boxes Kaikaina has."
"Uh-huh." Simmons shared a look with Grif, knowing that her brother was thinking the same thing he was, that what Kaikaina Grif was drinking was most definitely not juice.
"Those ones taste weird, and Kaikaina yells at me for drinking them if I don't ask permission first. And Agent Washington yells at both of us. And Tucker laughs, right before Washington yells at him. Agent Carolina just sighs and goes outside to drink coffee."
"That sounds tough." Simmons glanced over at Grif again, and from the exasperatedly annoyed look crossing over his friend's features, he had a sneaking suspicion that the girl was in for another big brother lecture about her drinking habits.
"But this juice is the best!" Caboose exclaimed happily, sucking on the straw so tightly that his cheeks caved in along with the carton's sides.
Grif got over his annoyance at having discovered one of his little sister's latest escapades for the moment, regarding Caboose with mild amusement, "Still, that's a lot of juice to be drinking all at once there, buddy. Maybe you should pace yourself."
"Says the guy who can down a six-pack in one minute flat or an entire wedding cake in under two hours?" Simmons looked at the heavyset soldier incredulously, "As if you're a model for moderation, Grif."
The orange-armored man shrugged "Never said I was, Simmons. I'm just a little afraid of what'll happen when all that juice catches up with him."
Oh, crap. Simmons hadn't even thought of that.
"Caboose! You do remember where the bathroom is in this building, don't you? The layout is almost identical to Blue Team's!"
A pause. The blank look on Caboose's face was not reassuring, "You might have to show me again." He finally said.
Simmons groaned, and caught the triumphant smirk on Grif's face. He glared in response, "Shut the fuck up, Grif."
"Why, Simmons, I haven't even said anything yet!"
It didn't seem possible, but that goddamned smirk grew even wider.
If I shoot him now, no one but Caboose would see it and I could probably convince him that Grif was just playing dead!
But then another, less homicidal, thought crossed his mind as he replayed what Grif had just said.
"So you knew that Caboose was here already?" Simmons asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Damn his inquisitive mind!
A dark-haired nod, "He's been here since I got up. Kaikaina brought him with her when she came to visit me. She wanted to see if she could leave him behind in exchange for some of Sarge's liquor stash." Grif smirked, "You'd have thought she would have learned her lesson after trying to drop off Tucker's alien kid with us back at Blood Gulch that one time."
Grif's sister was taking a break from her incredibly successful business at the moment to spend some quality time catching up with her big brother and friends. Kaikaina had somehow even convinced Carolina to let her room with her, given her previous Blue Team status.
"I was coming here anyway to see Private McMuffin, and she said I could come with her!" Caboose supplied helpfully, apparently not having picked up on the fact that he had been used as a failed bartering chip for booze, "She's so nice!"
"Uh-huh." Simmons really didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise, "And what did you need to see Donut for?"
"Er, something Top Secret that I can't tell anyone about. Not even for rainbow sprinkles! …Or a pony."
Simmons glanced inquiringly at Grif again, who shrugged uncaringly in response. Donut and Caboose were pretty harmless, so whatever "secret" things they were up to, he doubted it was anything to be concerned over. He made a mental note to ask Donut about it later if he remembered.
"So did Kai leave him here then?"
It would not surprise Simmons in the slightest if she had. They'd all had a little bit of a shock a few weeks ago when Sarge had stepped into the bathroom and found Tucker "making himself at home" in the shower just a few hours after one of her visits. He apparently hadn't even realized Kaikaina had left him there when she had gotten bored, though why he was taking a shower was still a mystery.
Grif shook his head, "Not this time. Kai said she wanted to look around, and I needed to get something to eat. So I figured she'd have fun in the holo-room or whatever."
"…Wait, what?"
For some reason, that comment made Simmons feel rather panicky. Granted, the programs he worked on in particular in the new and improved Holographic Chamber that Sarge had finally got working after picking up more scrap parts from Chorus were security-encrypted. He figured they were safe. Besides, it wasn't like Kaikaina would know how to access them. But what if she happened to scroll down the list of program names and…
"Simmons, you okay?" Grif looked mildly concerned at the nervous expression his friend was sporting.
It made sense, really. Grif didn't care to pay much attention to the Holographic Chamber himself beyond being grateful that the virtual Grifs curbed some of Sarge's aggression towards him. He didn't know about the programs that Simmons had made using it: the older ones from Valhalla like the fatherly Sarge, his…his holo-Grif (gah, there was a lot of embarrassment tied to that one if Grif ever did find out about it. It was probably for the best that he had deleted both of those programs before they'd left just in case), and then there were the new programs he had been working on. Ones that Simmons wasn't sure what he'd do with when they were completed, but that he knew he needed to keep private in the meantime.
Especially the one he had been spending pretty much all of his free time on ever since they had come back from Earth…
Kaikaina might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but she was actually phenomenally observant and more than capable of putting two and two together if she was scrolling through file names.
"Oh, shit!" Simmons scrambled up from the chair he'd only just recently sat in during Caboose's talk on juice, already flying out the kitchen doorway.
"Simmons?!" Grif yelled after him, more than just a little surprised at the outburst and subsequent fleeing he'd witnessed.
"He must have really needed to go to the bathroom too." Caboose chimed in.
"…" Grif said nothing, still staring at the doorway Simmons had bolted through.
"Never mind. I have to go now too." The Blue Team member's voice broke through his thoughts a moment later, "Can you show me where it is again?"
"Goddamn it!"
Kaikaina Grif emerged from the Holographic Chamber, her yellow helmet clutched at her side. She looked up to see Simmons bolting down the hall, going so fast that you'd almost expect to see a smoke trail behind his feet. She couldn't help but smirk, her brown eyes twinkling as she gave him her customary greeting.
"What's up, nerd?"
Simmons ignored her. Well, it was more like he didn't have the energy to respond. He'd run so fast over here that it felt as though even his mechanical body parts needed a moment to recalibrate.
It was an odd sensation, really. He no longer had a set of organic lungs to worry about, Grif was well on his way to ruining his old ones with his smoking. But the cybernetic replacements he had still functioned similarly. Not having "proper" lungs in the scientific sense also didn't mean that his body still couldn't act like he should have them all the same. It was weird and awkward, and more than just a little bit jarring, but he was finally getting used to it now, years later. It had been much, much harder earlier on when the operation had been fresh.
"H-hey, Kai." Simmons finally managed to get out through wheezing breaths.
"Were those the girly-laps you told me about before?" Kaikaina didn't seem curious at all about why he'd been running fast in the first place, "They look pretty hardcore. Not sure I'm cut out for them."
"Um…"
"Is my brother still in the kitchen?" The yellow-armored girl asked as she walked past him, "I want to say goodbye before I leave."
"You were in the Holographic Chamber?"
Kaikaina paused at the question, "Yeah, is that a problem?" She crinkled her tan nose slightly when she frowned, "Is that old guy going to yell at me again?"
"Well, you did raid his liquor cabinet last time."
"There was no sign that said I couldn't!"
"It was in his room and the cabinet was locked!"
"The holo-room wasn't locked and Dex showed me how to use it." Kai replied as she shrugged, obviously thinking that the details of her last escapade weren't extremely important.
"Well, yes. And Sarge wouldn't really get mad at you for using it…"
"Do you think I could use it for a rave then?" She asked, cutting him off with sparkling eyes, "It would make things a lot livelier than throwing them back at Blood Gulch. You wouldn't even have to drink as much to get the same effect from the smoke machine!"
"Er…"
It figured. Kaikaina saw a piece of new technology, and her first reaction was to see how it could be used to improve her partying. Honestly, he was relieved and, truthfully, if she somehow figured out a way to work it into her business, then he was certain Grif would probably be all for the potential extra income, like that real estate scam with the white supremacists the three of them had all tried out.
"Maybe that "Hawaii" program would be a good setting for a rave. I used to have the best parties back home."
That got the nervous feeling to rise in the pit of his stomach again. Simmons glanced up at the young woman's face, surprised to see her scrutinizing him with a look that seemed a bit too mature for her usual façade.
Shit. She totally knew.
His mouth hung open, his brain trying to come up with something logical to say, anything to say, really. But, he was failing miserably.
"Random button pushing always gets me where I need to go." Kaikaina finally said into the awkward and uncomfortable silence that had descended upon their conversation like a blanket, "I don't think anyone else will be able to find it again since all of the old man's stuff comes up first. Don't worry."
"…"
…Simmons' brain was seriously failing him now.
Kai looked at him, a sudden thought crossing her mind, "That is a program for my big bro, right?"
For a moment, she almost looked worried. As if she was afraid that her initial assumption had been wrong. Her expression almost reminded him of when he was younger, of how nervous he'd been in making assumptions during social interactions. Sadly, life as a "nerd" in school combined with all of the drama at his house had not made those situations easy for him. He was amazed at the strides he'd taken in college and in the army.
In a bizarre, roundabout way, being reminded of that somehow caused him to finally think of something to say. "Yeah, it's for Grif." Simmons assured her, "It's sort of like a gift for him. I guess."
One that he might never have the nerve to show him, but he didn't have to let Kai know that.
"It's not finished yet."
"Oh, that's a bummer then." She pouted, "Guess I can't use it for raves until after he sees it, huh?"
"Yeah." Simmons fidgeted nervously, desperately wanting this conversation to end, "You won't tell him about it, will you?"
Kaikaina shook her head, "I don't tell him everything, so no worries." She grinned, the expression rather similar to her brother's.
Relief washed over him and he relaxed, "Thanks."
"Besides, with the amount of booze I'm planning to drink tonight, I doubt I'll remember where my underwear is, much less anything about the holo-room!"
"Yeah, yeah," Simmons started before her words sank into his brain a moment later, "Wait…what?"
He wasn't even sure he wanted the young woman to elaborate more. Damn his overactive imagination sometimes! Thankfully, before she possibly could, there were footsteps in the hallway behind them.
"Simmons! Grif's sister hasn't been messing up the holo-chamber, has she?" Sarge's voice called out to the duo.
"Um," Simmons glanced at the girl in question, but she seemed uninterested in responding, "I don't think so, sir."
"Are you sure?" Sarge didn't sound convinced, "None of her loud techno dance music is going to be blaring the next time we have a training session? The holographic Warthog isn't going to be pink and covered in lace?"
"No more than when Donut uses the room, sir." Simmons assured him.
"All of that training stuff is so lame, anyways." Kai sniffed dismissively as Sarge came into view, "You're lame and you're old and I hate you!"
"Of course you'd think so. You young'uns have no respect for the preparation and effort it takes to truly decimate the enemy."
"What enemy?" Grif asked from just behind their commanding officer, Caboose in tow, "We're not at war with the Blues anymore, remember? And Temple and the Blues and Reds aren't around anymore."
"There's always an enemy, dirt-bag!" Sarge sighed at having to reiterate what he felt should be common knowledge to his troops by now for what seemed to be the millionth time, "Even when you don't know who they are. That's why you've always got to be prepared! Why else do you think I sleep with my shotgun?"
"Because you're insane?" The orange-armored soldier supplied helpfully, clearly tired of the conversation.
"Just for that, Grif, you get to clean out the weapons supply closet with nothing but a toothbrush. Your toothbrush." Sarge smirked as a groan from Grif followed his order, "It'll probably take you all day since you have the speed of an upside down tortoise, so better get movin'."
"I seriously hate my life."
"As do all of us, Grif, but giving you orders does help me sleep at night."
"Thanks so much, sir."
"You're welcome." Sarge said as he turned to Simmons, "Now, Simmons, after the Blues leave I'll need you and Lopez to help me with some diagnostics on the teleporter do-hickey we have on the roof. We don't use it ever and I don't quite know where it even goes, but I figure we should know if it's working properly if we ever need to use it in an emergency."
"Of course, sir." The maroon-armored soldier said before he looked around, noticing that the brown-armored robot was nowhere to be found, "Where is Lopez, exactly?"
"Heck if I know! He's always hiding and doing things like turning off his radio transmitter, the little rascal."
"Oh, sure. When he does it, it's okay. When I do it, it's insubordination." Grif sighed tiredly.
"That's because he actually does follow through with assignments when he's given them, dirt-bag."
"Yeah, but if someone happened to know actual Spanish, and I'm not saying anyone here does," Grif was awfully quick to amend, "What if they found out he was just insulting you the entire time? No one knows what he's saying!"
"I'll find him before we start," Sarge said, turning his attention back to Simmons and ignoring Grif's comment, "If you want to make sure we have all of the appropriate tools."
"Of course, sir. I already did the inventory check, so it should be no problem." Simmons ignored the comments of "kiss-ass" and "nerd" that came from the Grif siblings.
"Excellent." Sarge nodded his head slightly in approval, "Now we'll just help Caboose gather up his things and…"
"Caboose! There you are!" Donut came running through the corridor, catching up to his blue-armored friend before turning to look at everyone else gathered there, "Hey, guys!"
"Ensign Pastry!" Caboose grasped the pink-armored man's hand jovially, "Were we playing a game that I did not know we were playing? I came here and sat in the kitchen. I looked everywhere!"
Donut looked sheepish, "S—sorry! I thought I would meet you at the Blues' today."
"It's okay! We still have plenty of time."
The soldier in light-ish red looked around at the curious exchanges their conversation was getting, and his face turned red in embarrassment. Donut opened his mouth to explain, when a voice coming from behind all of them interrupted whatever he was about to say.
"Sarge, can I have a word?" Washington's face looked grimmer than normal, his mouth a tight line.
Simmons and Grif both glanced at each other, then turned to see what their leader would say. The others looked more or less confused.
Sarge frowned, "I take it this isn't a social call?"
Washington nodded his head, "It's about that rumor I heard of you trying to get some sort of classified out on the Dark Web?"
Sarge looked pointedly over at Simmons, who glanced away sheepishly, "Simmons, that counts as insubordination!"
"Really, sir, if you just thought about it for a minute…" Simmons' explanation trailed off when he realized there was no point in trying to defend himself from his hot-blooded commanding officer.
"Simmons was right to tell me before you actually posted anything." Washington said as the former Freelancer sighed, cutting in to the conversation before Sarge could get into his usual tirade about loyalty, "Were you seriously going to put our location out there for every questionable lunatic to see?"
Sarge huffed, "Not for all of them to see. Just one lunatic in particular."
"I'm sure that Locus is considering you and Grif's offer to officially join Red Team very seriously right now. Harassing him over it isn't going to help."
"Yeah, Sarge," Donut exclaimed as he nodded his head emphatically in agreement, "That's just called being desperate!"
"Which is just sad." Grif couldn't help but mock under his breath.
Sarge started mumbling under his breath then as Caboose grabbed onto Donut's arm to pull him away happily: "Let's go, Biscuit! I think Agent Carolina might still have the purple not-a-doctor's number from when he was here before!"
Donut's face actually turned a deeper red at the blue-armored man's comment, "C—Caboose!" He shouted, surprisingly embarrassed. That almost never happened to Donut.
Kai, meanwhile, was wiggling her eyebrows suggestively towards both Washington and Sarge, "So what's this website you can post classifieds on? I haven't done that in a long time!"
Grif rolled his eyes, "Goddamn it, Kai!" He muttered in exasperation.
The younger Grif simply smirked and stuck her tongue out at her brother. As Grif started questioning his little sister on just what sort of classifieds she had apparently posted in the past ("The fun kind, duh!"), Simmons excused himself to get to work on the assignment Sarge had given him.
If he could finish it quickly enough, then maybe he could get in some more time on his special program. He was getting really close to finishing it, if he could just…!
Simmons didn't notice that Grif had glanced over towards him then and, upon noticing the serious and overly thinking frown plastered on the cyborg's face, began frowning in concern as well.
It was much, much later when Simmons was finally able to get to work once again on the mysterious project that Kaikaina had inadvertently uncovered.
It had been after Carolina came back from her solo training sojourn. She claimed she needed to go on one every other week to help maintain her combat skills, but Grif had figured out that she was doing so to further improve her relaxation techniques since Carolina always seemed to come back even more frustrated than before she left. Carolina promptly collected Caboose, Kai, Washington, and Tucker, who had shown up with Donut and Caboose when they had come back all while muttering something about how Donut's taste was a little suspect, for the evening.
Caboose had thanked Grif and Simmons for the use of the kitchen earlier even though Red Team had mentioned before that he was always allowed to use it however he wanted so long as he didn't start a fire in there, which was, incidentally, a bit of a challenge for him. Tucker pulled the blue-armored man along while Kai was busy regaling the two former Freelancers about her plans for an encore music festival on Chorus since the last one had been a roaring hit. Washington and Carolina kept glancing back and forth at each other, obviously torn between being impressed and in disbelief with the girl's planned exploits.
Sarge had shaken his head as the Blues left with an oddly fond look on his face. The red-armored man had been doing that a lot since the whole Temple and the rest of the Blues and Reds deal had happened. Grif kept poking Simmons hard in the side whenever they noticed to ask if Simmons thought the older soldier had maybe recently had a stroke or something. After the Blues were no longer visible, Sarge had excused himself from dinner early to go to his workshop and office.
Donut had cheerily volunteered to do the dishes given his good mood since apparently he and Caboose had achieved whatever they had hoped to accomplish in regards to Doc, even though it was technically Lopez's turn according to the chore wheel.
Truthfully, Donut may have volunteered just because of the robot's penchant for using the same oil-soaked rag that he wiped off the equipment with for everything else, including the dishes and the TV, which had caused quite a commotion the first time it had happened. If Simmons didn't know any better, he could have sworn that Lopez did so on purpose, as tonight he walked out of the kitchen to wherever he went when he had free time with what appeared to be a skip in his step.
Grif, surprisingly, offered to help Donut out after he finished his last serving of food. Grif had been doing that more often lately, Simmons had noticed, even if he still tried to do as minimal as possible when it came to other things. But every so often, the orange-armored man would volunteer for tasks that he normally would have tried shirking in any way possible. As if he was trying to prove he could still be useful, as if…
Grif's earlier words to Simmons about his needing to not overwork himself came to the forefront of his thoughts, and Simmons swallowed dryly. He left the kitchen quietly just as Donut gleefully exclaimed, "Why sure, Grif! The more hard bodies we can squeeze in front of this wet mess, the better!"
Before Simmons knew it, he was back to work on his special project at the recently constructed Holographic Chamber.
It was more or less finished now, after months of careful research and painstakingly elaborate coding. After making sure that Sarge knew he wasn't supposed to blow it up, which was a task in and of itself. After begging Lopez to help him move some actual furniture pieces into the space. Even though the robot had all but rolled his nonexistent eyes as he let out an electronic sigh of exasperation, he acquiesced all the same to avoid anymore of Simmons' pitiable begging.
Right now, he was just more or less fine-tuning the thing and ironing out any kinks. Simmons needed the whole thing to be as flawless and perfect as possible. If it wasn't, well, he had already proven how phenomenally sucky he was with words, hadn't he?
And so the redhead stayed hunched over the programming console for who-knew-how-long, both his muscles and metallic parts aching at his horrible posture. His human eye was starting to tear up at having been fixed so relentlessly on the screen. By the time the cyborg felt it was as good as he was going to get it at this juncture, he stood up and stretched, his entire body screaming in silent, blessed relief at the motion.
Glancing at the clock display, Simmons did a start at having yet again worked into the early morning hours on this project before stifling a yawn. If he collapsed from exhaustion during the team meeting tomorrow, that would definitely cause some eyebrows to be raised in mild concern. But he was so, so close to being finished!
The maroon-armored soldier trudged through the quiet, darkened corridors back to his room, only pausing slightly at the sight of the door being somewhat open. A soft noise emerged from the supposedly empty space. It was the telltale noise of the radio, the one that a certain orange-wearing someone kept on quite a bit now when by himself.
Simmons let out a sharp breath of air as he pushed the door open further. Sure enough, in the dim light filtering into his bedroom, he could make out the form of Dexter Grif lying on his bed.
His face turned red at the sight, even though he had been the one to initiate the "open door policy" between the two of them in light of their often troubled sleeping patterns. Often an issue for Simmons, a more recent development for Grif. They had discovered that they just seemed to get relaxed enough to sleep more when in the other's presence. It totally wasn't weird or unusual or something that Donut should be including in that Scrapbook of Precious Memories everyone knew he was making.
"You know, for a guy who always has about ten cups of coffee in the morning," Grif remarked casually as he turned off the radio, "You still like to take the kiss-assing to extremes."
"I—I…" Simmons blinked, his tired brain not sure how to process this turn of events.
Grif sat up, both brown and green eyes regarding him carefully, "Except you haven't been working yourself to the point of exhaustion just for the glory of Red Team recently," he asked rather sagely, "Have you, Simmons?"
Panic began to settle over Simmons, and he instinctually took a shaky step back. Shit! Just how much did Grif know then?
He was completely taken off-guard by the look of concern and hurt that crossed over Grif's features next, "So what's going on then? I thought if something was up you guys would tell me and I could try to help and…" Grif's ramble trailed off as he shakily looked towards the ground, "Unless you think I'd just fuck things up again?"
"No!" The adamant, urgent tone that escaped Simmons surprised both himself and Grif, but he pressed on because Grif was so completely off the mark, "That's…that's not it at all, Grif!"
But Grif still looked pensive and doubtful, and Simmons felt his entire body practically begin to overheat as he resigned himself. He was terrified that his secret project wasn't perfect yet, that this would somehow screw things up. But maybe that was just his nerves and horribly low self-esteem kicking him yet again, and he would never feel one hundred percent confident about it?
Simmons definitely wanted Grif to know that he hadn't been excluding him for the reasons he thought, even if his guts were churning enough to have him nervously puke any second now.
"Come on," he heard himself saying awkwardly over the suddenly very loud pounding of his chest gears, "I'll show you."
Grif had to admit, whatever it was that he had anticipated Simmons was working himself to near death for, this had definitely not been it.
"Whoa." was all he could mutter as he stood staring at the completely transformed holographic space before him.
The usually empty and darkened area was now a brightly sunny beach that seemed to stretch on for as far as the eyes could see. He was standing barefoot in the sand, watching as ocean waves lapped lazily onto the shore, leaving a wet trail of debris in their wake as they receded only to start the cycle up all over again.
Grif could hear the sounds of the waves, the distant cries of birds that seemed to be flying far too high overhead to be seen currently. He swore he could feel the sunlight through the scant clouds warming his skin, a slight breeze ruffling his clothing as the scent of the beach and ocean filled his nostrils.
Even though he knew the whole thing was fake and that a lot of it was his mind supplying nostalgic cues, it was amazingly accurate. Grif took in a deep breath. The beach here on the moon paled in comparison to this reminder of one of the few places of home he hadn't had craptastic memories of.
It had never been this free of passersby and tourists, but this was definitely the beach close by their shitty house, the one he would take Kai to when she was little for practically the whole day so that they could laugh, swim, and make sandcastles to pretend that things weren't so bad. At least for a little while.
He had told Simmons stories about it from time to time, back when they had both been relaxed or slightly buzzed and he had felt comfortable, safe enough for once, to feel nostalgic. Simmons had shared a few things too then, and Grif always kept those small morsels of information close to his chest.
The last time he had talked about this beach had been right before the Temple of Procreation and all of the subsequent awkwardness that it had brought about. Riding the high of the war finally being over and being fucking alive, he had talked about them both going there sometime after retirement. It hadn't even crossed his mind to ask Simmons if he would want to come with him, but Simmons hadn't seemed particularly keen on protesting the idea either.
Then the temple happened, and while that had been beyond great at the time, neither of them were quite sure how to process it. So they had put the joint retirement trip on the backburner for later because that was always easier for them than outright talking.
He had thought, after everything, that Simmons had forgotten about the beach. Fuck, he almost had after being on his own. Almost. He used to imagine taking Volleyball!Simmons there, but figured it wouldn't be as much fun.
"So, um, what do you think?" Simmons fidgeted nervously behind him, looking as if he half-expected Grif to turn around and punch him, "It's not great, but um…"
"Are you fucking with me right now?" Grif asked incredulously.
"Uh…" Simmons half-uttered as he blinked and took a step back as if he was about to bolt.
"Why the fuck would you even do something like this?"
Simmons' skin was a brilliant, freckled shade of red all the way to his metallic plating, "W—well, we didn't get the chance to visit anywhere when we were back on Earth and," his shoulders slumped as if he was trying to shrink in on himself, "You'd said before how you wanted to see it again so…"
"You actually did this for me?" Grif's tone was disbelieving, his heart beating nearly out of his chest.
A shaky nod in response as Simmons averted his gaze, "Who—who else would I have done it for, dumbass?"
His throat was dry, "But all that shit I pulled, I—!" Grif tried to get out, but Simmons cut him off by looking up and over at him sharply.
"We've all pulled shit, Grif. We just fucking left you here. You can't keep beating yourself up over it."
"That's calling the kettle, dude." Grif smiled softly, fondly all the same.
"So I know what I'm talking about then." Simmons smiled slightly himself, exuding more confidence despite how obviously nervous he still was, "We…we all want you around, Grif." His face was turning red again, "At least, I definitely do."
"I'm glad you're back."
Simmons' words, both now and back at Temple's underwater evil lair, tugged at Grif's insides. He felt both giddy and as if he might tear up at any given second. At least this time there wasn't an intrusive cameraman around to ruin something maybe (hopefully) happening.
"Thanks, Simmons." Grif murmured softly.
"Ah! You're…" Simmons fidgeted again, his face once more absolutely and adorably red, "You're welcome, Grif."
Grif reluctantly tore his gaze away from one all-too pleasing sight to regard another one, albeit perhaps not as pleasing by just a fraction, his eyes taking in every little detail.
To think that this had been Simmons' secret side project. That he had been working himself to sheer exhaustion just for Dexter Grif of all people… His eyes focused on something in the corner of the Holographic Chamber, only to widen at the familiar object, "Holy shit! Is that an actual bed?"
Simmons laughed nervously, looking like he wanted to bolt again, "Y—yeah. Lopez helped me with it." He shakily explained, "I…I thought you might like sleeping here, on account of the sounds and all."
"Huh. Like a really nerdy version of those sounds of nature albums?" Grif joked, clearly amused, "I bet you had those as a kid."
"It…it was a dumb idea, I know." Simmons deflated again though he neither confirmed nor denied Grif's joking remark, looking rather embarrassed, "I just thought, with you needing sound to sleep now…"
Grif frowned thoughtfully, "It's not so much the sound I need as that I can't sleep alone, Simmons."
"Oh. Right." The redhead said despondently, shoulders slumping even further.
Grif smirked and walked over to Simmons, grabbing his hand before either man really had the chance to overthink again. Simmons, surprised, looked up into his face questioningly and Grif could make out the obvious rings under his non-cybernetic green eye.
"So I was thinking, seeing as how you went to the trouble and all, and you look about to keel over yourself, maybe you'd want to test this sucker out with me?" Grif grinned, trying to ignore how his own face was feeling noticeably warmer, "Just to make sure this whole thing actually works like it's supposed to."
"Like…like a test run?" Simmons' face was probably a furnace by now given how red his pale skin had turned.
"Don't go and nerd it up even more, Simmons."
Grif pulled a nonresistant Simmons over towards the bed, both men's grip on the other's hand rather reassuringly tight.
…Later on, when Lopez was sent to find the two missing Red Team members, he discovered Grif and Simmons still curled around the other, sound asleep on the artificial beach.
The robot sighed, promptly exiting as quickly as his mechanical legs could carry him to put a "Fuera de Servicio" {"Out of Order"} sign on the door.
"Realmente deberían pagarme por tener que aguantar esto." {"They really should be paying me for having to put up with this."}
Author's Notes: Oh boy, this story was a long one! XD In my defense, half of it had actually been written up and sitting on my computer for about two years now as a salvaged part of my first fan fic attempt for this fandom that I later on scrapped. I just finally got around to tweaking and editing the sucker a bit, working it into a post-Season 15 one shot instead after an idea came to me. XD
So if there is a noticeable difference in the quality of the writing or narrative or things seem a bit off somehow, that is probably why, lol.
This week has been a bit of a rough one for me as I was suffering from a rather nasty bout of illness along with a lack of decent sleep, so I again have to apologize for any mistakes I may have made here. I had been planning on possibly writing even more and getting out the second chapter of Reflective Shards in particular, but ended up having to put those plans on the backburner. Still, Fluff Week has made me all sorts of consoled and happy, and I wanted to post a little bit of awkwardly written fluff myself in thanks for that. You guys are awesome! :)
Thank you for reading! :D