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 Twelve:

C.T., while traversing her usual rounds of Rat's Nest, unsurprisingly found South at one of the local taverns. The woman in orchid armor was already into her third tankard of ale by the time C.T. approached her.

The sight of South drinking brought about a surprising twinge of nostalgia. C.T. had lost count of how many times back in the days of Freelancer that she had often found the platinum blonde with orchid tipped highlights at a bar. In a way, the familiar routine was bittersweet given everything that had transpired since those Freelancer days.

If South was here, then that meant their other former Freelancer associate had to be nearby. C.T. scanned the crowd around them for another familiar face. The people who filled the tavern were all bustling with drinks in hand, but the brunette could not spot Florida amongst them. That didn't really shock her, truthfully. When the blue-armored man wanted to be scarce, he had ways of making sure he was not to be found.

Besides, Florida never was much of a drinker. Unless Wyoming had dragged him along to a team outing.

South caught the brown-armored woman's eye and lifted her tankard to C.T. in a patronizing sort-of salute before kicking out the chair in front of her, "Take a load off. Or not." She shrugged, "No skin off my back either way."

C.T. smiled thinly before settling down across from the other woman, "Not challenging me to a drinking contest this time, I see." She tried joking.

South snorted, "Like fuck I'd do that again, especially after that fifth time."

Yes, there were many memories like that from Freelancer. C.T. could recall all of the times in Valhalla that she'd had to drag a thoroughly plastered South back to their dormitories. All while being mildly buzzed herself. The petite brunette certainly didn't look like a heavy drinker, but she could definitely hold her liquor. South, and many of their other Freelancer comrades, had learned that lesson the hard way.

Come to think of it, only Wash of all people had ever bested her…

"You finish your lookout duty, or whatever it was?" South questioned uncaringly while bringing her glass to her lips, pale blue eyes narrowed in a familiar scowl.

C.T. nodded her head, trying to gauge just how this conversation was going to go. Honestly, she always had a hard time gauging interactions with South.

"Shitty job and new digs, if you ask me." The woman across from C.T. remarked casually enough when she realized she wasn't going to get a vocal reply, though there was a piercing, assessing edge to South's pale eyes.

C.T. didn't say anything in response, opting instead to purse her lips into a thin line. Always keep your guard up. It was what she had learned to do back in Freelancer.

"Which is why I'm guessing you're up to something big." South concluded before putting her muddied boots up on the table in a relaxed fashion, "You always saw a bigger picture than the rest of us assholes."

C.T. glanced around the loud space cautiously, but the noise had definitely drowned out South's words to anyone but her.

"South…" she began in warning, her frown deepening.

South raised up her left hand, "Relax. I can guess what's on your mind this time easily enough," she smirked, "And I want in."

The brunette blinked, caught off-guard by the admission, "Why?"

A shrug, "Chalk it up to fucking boredom or whatever other bullshit you want. I don't really care." South put her feet down and leaned forward dangerously close to C.T., her warm breath tickling her face, "I am not being kept out of the loop this time. You got me?" C.T. gave her a curt nod, and South visibly relaxed and leaned back as if nothing had even happened. "Great. So, what do you need a mercenary like myself to do?" She asked.

Connecticut closed her eyes, thinking for a moment. It was true that having more allies in general would be beneficial. "The best thing you could do is get through the tournament." She finally stated.

South scoffed and glanced around at the tavern patrons, many of whom would be her competition, "Like any of these douchebags will prove to be a challenge."

The brown-armored woman could only smirk in reply. What South said wasn't just boastful talking, there was a lot of truth to it. C.T. had no doubt that South would be more than able to hold her own in the upcoming tournament.

In fact, C.T. had a sneaking suspicion that was why Florida had insisted on "you two gals having a good, long talk" after the brunette had finished her patrol. That thought about their Freelancer comrade led her to wonder…

"Any idea why Florida told you about what was going on here?" C.T. mused to the woman across from her, genuinely curious about what was going through the man's mind.

South shrugged indifferently, "Who the fuck knows? But, I am pretty sure he's on the lookout for a certain mustached asshole, and I'm also assuming said asshole happens to be close by."

"That's a pretty good guess." C.T. couldn't help but crack a tiny smile.

South smirked, "Of course it is. Things are certainly starting to look up." Her pale blue eyes widened momentarily as she caught sight of something over C.T.'s shoulder, "Maybe even more than I thought."

C.T. shot her reaction a puzzled look before she turned her head, her own eyes widening at a familiar-looking, yellow-tinged Seas standing in a crowd of people. One other figure in the group she couldn't help but recognize as well.

…What the hell were Wash and Church doing in Rat's Nest?

Honestly, Dexter Grif was thankful that the Guild group had no problem sighing up for the tournament. He wasn't really in the mood for having to deal with a ton of paperwork and shit. Although, to be honest, he never was. Paperwork was for kiss-ass nerds who like to wear maroon.

No, this was one of the few instances in his life when Grif very much wanted to get things over and done with. After all, they were now in Rat's Nest. That meant they were one step closer to finding Kai and…

Out of the corner of his eye, Grif saw the human redhead standing next to him tense slightly. The Orc couldn't help but shoot the kiss-ass nerd a reassuring smirk. Right. If he didn't want to worry Simmons, he had to control his emotions more.

The chubby man sighed, thinking not for the first time that this Linking Magic business was both good and troublesome all at once. …Though a very large part of him would now admit that he was terrified at the thought of it somehow going away. Well, admit it inwardly. Not out loud. He had to maintain his chill and laidback reputation, after all.

"I just…I just don't understand why I have to participate in the tournament." Doc was saying to Donut, Lopez, and Sheila at that very moment, Grif's Orc sense of hearing picking up on the conversation.

"It couldn't be helped." Sheila said, the crystalline woman's tone apologetic, "After all, you're one of the only Guild members here who hasn't been taking on active assignments."

"Así pues, las probabilidades son menos probables que alguien le reconocerá ... excepto quizá un comerciante de la flor." {"So, odds are less likely that someone will recognize you…save maybe a flower merchant."}

Whatever Lopez had said to the flower crown-wearing Doc was lost to Donut's enthusiastic nodding. "Lopez and Sheila are right, Doc. It's best to keep up appearances!" He exclaimed, "That way, everyone's surprised when we come in from the rear!"

Uh-huh. Best not to think too hard on that last statement.

"That is also why Washington and I will be participating as well." Andersmith chimed in encouragingly, "Since we technically aren't Guild members, there's less chance we'll be recognized."

"That's true." The purple-wearing Doc nodded his head slightly, a sigh escaping from his mouth, "I'm just very much opposed to violence, so I'm kind of unsure how this will play out. I'm a pacifist, you know!"

Donut smiled, leaning forward to touch Doc reassuringly on the arm, "You'll do just fine, Doc!" He stated emphatically, "I'll be there to cheer you on. The others too!"

As the assembled group of predetermined bystanders nodded their heads, Doc's brown eyes only had sights on Donut. The dirty blond's words were causing him to blush quite readily. Grif turned away, not sure that he wanted to witness more of the exchange for fear of vomiting.

Currently, their traveling party were heading towards the inn to get squared away for the night. For once, Grif was both eager to do so and far too anxious to probably fall asleep right away. A real conundrum, that. Of course, he had no doubt that he'd power through and get some sleep. He was a master when it came to sleeping, after all.

With a cursory glance, the orange-armored Guild member saw Tucker hold back from joining the rest of the group. The Orc raised a black eyebrow at his friend's hesitation, but he noticed that Washington had seemed to pick up on it too. The former Freelancer was hanging back now as well.

So, Grif grabbed onto Simmons' arm and, ignoring the "Hey!" coming from the maroon-wearing human who had been in the middle of conversing with his cousin Church, headed quickly towards the direction of the inn.

Maybe some extra portions of dinner with Simmons chiding him like always would help Grif drift off into a comfortable sleep.

A heavy silence, for once not punctured by the sounds of yelling, filled the office of the Guild Master in Armonia as both Vanessa Kimball and Donald Doyle processed the latest reports from North and York over tea.

Truthfully, the tradition of having tea together had started a long time ago, during their first series of debates that had lasted well into the night. The dark-skinned Seas woman had nearly forgotten when exactly, having gotten so used to the ritual. She certainly had never expected the tea time to evolve from having to resist the urge to toss scalding water into her Unsc opponent's face to almost being a relaxing, nearly pleasurable affair.

Honestly? Kimball wasn't sure what to make of that more recent development. Instead, she focused on the reports they had just gotten. On the words in the reports or, more likely, the absence of them.

She frowned, tapping a webbed finger on the table. There was just too little information to go on right now until Tucker's group came back. Both with the missing prince situation, as well as the kidnapped Magic Users…

The understandable silence on that end was frustrating her beyond belief.

"Is…ah, everything all right?" Doyle worked up the courage to ask her after she continued to silently glare at her cup of tea for several minutes.

She counted down from ten to avoid snapping at him like she might have done in the past, "I'm just…" Kimball frowned, sighed, and started over again, "The lack of communication is bothering me."

Doyle sighed himself, a look of understanding crossing over his features, "Believe me, Miss Kimball, I sympathize." She made a face at his word choice, and he hurriedly carried on to avoid a blow-out, "But we have the means and resources to launch a coordinated assault should the need arise. Right now, we both have our own tasks to do."

Kimball nodded her head slightly, taking a gulping swig of her now lukewarm tea. A part of her still hated when she knew he was right, but she was secretly thankful for his awkward attempt at cheering her up all the same.

Tucker had stopped walking alongside the others as they headed in the direction of the inn, an uncharacteristically troubled expression clouding his dark-skinned features. Despite telling himself that whatever was going on was none of his business as he didn't really know the Guild member personally after all, David Washington found himself stopping tentatively as well.

The Seas waited a few seconds for the others to get further on ahead before turning to face the cat-eared Beast Folk completely. He figured that Tucker's usual bravado meant that he would like the least amount of people as possible to see him falter. That was something he could relate to.

"Is something the matter, Tucker?" Washington asked carefully, unsure if he was crossing a line by inquiring.

Tucker's ears twitched in that way that had Washington subconsciously clench his hands to avoid embarrassing himself by reaching out to pat the other man's head on impulse.

"Yeah," the dark-skinned man in teal finally admitted with a thoughtful frown crossing over his features, "When they said tournament, I thought this would be a one-on-one type of deal."

Washington nodded his head. That made sense. He imagined most people would think that when they heard the word "tournament."

"But with how they registered our group, and the way the crowd's been acting about the fight, I'm starting to think it's going to be more of a free-for-all type of deal."

Washington had to admit, he was more than a bit impressed that Tucker had picked up on that as well simply from reading the room. Maybe there was potential in the younger man after all.

Tucker's tail twitched, his frown deepening as he spoke so quietly that Washington had to strain his ears to hear him, "I've done one-on-one before, but a free-for-all? I'm man enough to admit that's only been in my wildest dreams and with a bunch of chicks, bow-chicka-bow-wow!"

Washington couldn't help but roll his eyes, "Juvenile phrasing issues aside," he started at Tucker incredulously, "Tucker, are you actually getting nervous?"

Tucker's eyes flashed momentarily and a deep blush suddenly suffused his features as he scoffed far too eagerly at the notion for Washington's guess to not be true, "What? Fuck no, I'm just…" He paused, looking anywhere but at Washington then, "Not as sure about the sudden change in plans, is all."

Uh-huh. So, he was slightly nervous. The Seas surprised both himself and Tucker by reaching out and giving both of Tucker's shoulders an awkward, reassuring pat. "The plan isn't really changing all that much, Tucker." He told him as his hands dropped almost reluctantly back to his sides, "In fact, this might be even more to our advantage."

"How so?" Tucker stared down at where Washington's hands had been touching his shoulders mere moments before. Then he looked up at Washington's gray face with a doubtful expression on his own.

"This will increase the chance that some members of our group will make it past the preliminaries, as opposed to pinning our hopes on just one person." Washington told him, "The talk about the tournament winners has all been of the last ones standing."

He emphasized the plural, and Tucker's face lit up in understanding: "Fuck yeah. So, what you're saying is, we just have to make sure that some of us get past the first round."

Washington nodded his head, a strange content feeling building up in his chest at the sight of the beginning of a grateful, back-to-his-usual-overly-cocky-self smile from Tucker.

"Might be easier said than done, Wash." A surprisingly all-too familiar voice sneered from just behind his new friend, wearing all too familiar orchid armor. The brunette who hadn't spoken was also familiar and for a second the Seas was back at Freelancer in Valhalla before he reminded himself that this was Rat's Nest.

When he got back to his senses, the blood in Washington's veins froze. Without even acknowledging the confused look on Tucker's face, he grabbed the other man's wrist and instinctively pulled him behind his own body.

C.T. looked understanding-but-slightly-hurt-still at the gesture from where she stood next to South, but the platinum blonde simply smirked even more at her former comrade's action. "Well, look who's finally wised up." She remarked, "Did you miss us, kiddo?"

Arranging rooms for such a large group all on short notice wasn't an easy task. But, fortunately, with some sharing involved the local inn at Rat's Nest had a few more left. As it were, Sheila, Doctor Grey, and Volleyball would all be sharing one room, while the inn's largest one went to Palomo, Doc, Donut, Church, Caboose, and Andersmith.

Even with six beds promised for said space, Richard "Dick" Simmons was somewhat glad that he wasn't assigned that room given how undoubtedly crowded it would be. Not to mention noisy. He inwardly cringed at the loud volume at which Caboose, Palomo, and Donut were already happily discussing sleepover arrangements.

The redhead saw his cousin's eye twitching, and he suddenly felt a tinge of sympathy for Church. Of course, that sympathy faded immediately at the smirk that crossed Church's face when the cobalt-wearing man found out about Simmons' sleeping arrangement.

It turned out that Grif and Simmons would be sharing a room again since "It had worked out really well!" last time, according to a cheerful Donut. The pink-wearing man's proclamation only caused Church's smirk to widen as he wriggled his eyebrows condescendingly in his red-faced relative's direction.

Simmons was just grateful that the innkeeper had assured them there were two beds this time, his face practically on fire and his heart hammering away in his chest as he recalled the last room sharing experience.

Since they hadn't been there during the room arrangement debate, Tucker and Washington would also be sharing a room together. Honestly, Simmons was starting to wonder what was actually taking them so long in getting there. He almost missed Tucker's "bow-chicka-bow-wow!" comment that would have no doubt been there during check-in.

The last room left was the one that Sarge had called "dibs" on for both himself and Lopez. The construct seemed both annoyed at having to share the space with his creator, but also relieved that he wasn't stuck with Donut and the others. Lopez's mood seemed to brighten considerably when Sheila reminded him that she would be just across the hall.

Grif stood in the crowded, small space that served as the inn's lobby waiting until the voices died down before stating, "I say we get some dinner and head to bed."

Sarge frowned, harrumphing, "Of course you would, dirt bag. Your laziness knows no bounds! But, some of us think more strategizing is in order."

The Orc raised an eyebrow lazily, "We already know how tomorrow's going to play out."

Simmons frowned, "I—I don't know, Grif. Sarge might have a point!"

Grif rolled his eyes, "Of course you'd say that, Simmons." He then quickly muttered under his breath, "Kiss-ass."

Simmons glared right back at him, "Fat-ass."

"Oh no. No es otra escupidora de los amantes. ¿Por qué no vas a tu habitación y lo haces oficialmente?" {"Oh no. Not another lovers' spat. Why don't you both go to your room and make it fucking official?"}

Before anyone else could try to attempt responding to whatever it was that Lopez had said in exasperation, there was a loud coughing sound from the still open doorway. The group turned in unison towards the inn's entrance to stare at the newcomer.

A dark-skinned young man stood there with orange trim on his armor and the most ridiculous multi-colored hair that Simmons had ever seen. It was as if a bunch of different dyes had been poured on top of his head all at once.

"You are Grif, right?" The stranger's dark eyes were focused on the Orc standing right next to Simmons, "You probably don't remember me—"

"Bitters." Grif said exasperatedly, even as he had taken on a surprisingly serious stance as Simmons felt a momentary wave of both wariness and shock coming from him (fucking Linking Magic!), "Yeah, I remember."

Simmons gulped nervously as he and the others glanced around at one another. Based on how this interaction was going, it seemed likely that there was only one way that the two knew one another.

Charon.

Simmons had almost forgotten about Grif's past connection to the group, knowing how painful a subject it was for the Orc to bring up now given all that they had learned about the organization. Subconsciously, he moved closer to Grif but stopped before actually touching him. The Orc glanced towards Simmons before his eyes darted back to the newcomer in their midst.

Bitters looked at the ground for a moment and took a deep breath. When he looked up at Grif once more, there was a determined look in his eyes: "I fucking need your help."

Author's Notes: South and C.T. have run into Tucker and Wash, and Bitters is approaching Grif and company about help. Plus, Kimball doesn't really hate having tea with Doyle either! Things are definitely starting to pick up. :) I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I am really looking forward to the next one!

Oh, and I will refrain from spoilers, but Season 15 has just officially made my week! :)