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 Five:

"You know," Jax stated casually as he and Dylan Andrews navigated their way through a crowded street in Valhalla, ignoring the questioning regard being thrown their way from curious passersby, "An urgent warning of potential danger would be a lot more believable if we hadn't had to schedule a meeting first."

"It couldn't be helped." Dylan said with a sigh as the female Orc spotted the inn and café called The Painted Pony that Donut had arranged to meet them in, "Donut didn't want my magic ability to be widely known," which was a sound strategy as she kept that information rather close to her chest, "And he apparently already knew there were eavesdroppers to get rid of, even if he isn't fully aware of how dangerous they are."

Dylan quickened her pace as she continued, "The only way to avoid forcing our opponent's hand is to act as if everything is going smoothly." Inwardly, she hoped that was reality and not a bluff, even if the news that Donut was being monitored by a dangerous Insurrection member would have even the most seasoned of reporters throwing caution to the wind.

"Besides," Jax mused next to her, "It isn't like we can just walk up to Donut and tell him everything. Guards would totally be on us in no time flat, and his cover would definitely be blown."

"Thus the need for secrecy and arranged meetings." Dylan concluded before staring at her half-human, half-Dwarven companion almost proudly, "You're learning."

Jax's grin lit up the already bright décor of the café they entered, "I am trailing the best. It was bound to rub off on me eventually."

Dylan genuinely returned the smile, "Don't say that in front of Donut."

"Oh, did I just hear my name?" A familiar voice spoke up, "And something about rubbing off? Because I could really use a good one of those!"

"Um…" Dylan began, unsure of how to respond.

Donut stood up from a table in the establishment's far corner, "Hey, guys," he greeted with a friendly wave, "We've been waiting for you!"

Dylan blinked in surprise, "We?"

The sight of a severely burnt and scarred man sipping tea from a floral teacup casually across from Donut caused her to freeze. He smirked at her open shock, "This is what happens when someone doesn't have the opportunity to be fashionably late."

Donut huffed in clear exasperation, "I still think coming with a flourish would have been the best!" He pouted.

The Insurrectionist known as either Terrence or Sharkface depending on who was talking about him looked at Dylan's still frozen in surprise expression in obvious bemusement, "Yeah? Because it looks like it still worked."

Her body once again decided to follow her commands, and Dylan moved past a thoroughly confused Jax in order to put herself between Sharkface and Donut, "What are you doing here?" She demanded, "If you try anything…"

Sharkface still seemed more agitatedly amused than anything else as he leaned back in his chair, "You'll do what, exactly?" He questioned her with a glimmer in his good eye, "Tattle on me if I burn this place to the ground?"

"That's…!" Dylan was cut off by Donut putting a hand gently on her arm in a reassuring manner.

"Quit it with the bad jokes already." The pink-wearing man said instead to Sharkface, who simply smirked in response from behind his ridiculously out-of-character teacup, "Dylan," the prince of the Unsc turned his attention back to the still unsure journalist, "It's okay."

She merely responded with a dubious look on her blue-swirled face.

"Believe it or not, Terrence here actually approached me when I just so happened to let it slip that I knew I was being followed. From the front, even!"

"And he didn't kill you?" Jax whistled before turning in Sharkface's direction, "Maybe we misjudged you. Sorry!"

Sharkface sighed, "I get that a lot." He admitted, looking oddly thoughtful as he added, "Probably with good reason."

"But this time?" Donut smiled at the two surprised journalists reassuringly, "This time Terrence says he wants to help!"

There was a bustle of activity as everyone put what they were bringing onto the airship. Jensen, Andersmith, and Caboose talked excitedly to Four Seven Niner while Sheila and Filss said a few quiet words together off to the side before they separated once more. South Dakota remained standing by her single bag, glaring and strumming her fingers along her arms. Of special attention to her was her brother and Theta, currently chumming it up with Tucker and Washington.

"You don't seem too pleased to be on this mission." C.T. casually remarked as she strode over to South's side, her conversation with the other Guild trainees evidently over for the time being since they were now talking to Doyle and getting some last minute advice from Kimball.

South rolled her pale blue eyes, "Getting stuck babysitting a bunch of noobs who still don't know what the pointy edge of a fucking sword does while still having to play nice with North and Theta in hostile territory?" She asked, "Whatever makes you think this wouldn't be a mission that I'd totally love?"

C.T. ignored her sarcasm, "Yet you're still going." The brunette noted.

South sighed, "Yeah. Guess I am." She decided not to mention how that largely had to do with C.T. volunteering to go on the mission. Instead, she gruffly asked, "Are you okay with this?" The human turned her head slightly to gauge the other woman's reaction, "Heading back to your hometown after all this shit's gone down, maybe even having to fight one of the assholes you used to work with before?"

C.T. frowned slightly as she pondered the question, "I'm not thrilled about it, no." The brunette told her before a determined look crossed over her brown eyes, "But I feel like I owe it to the Insurrection to try to set its remaining members down the right path." There was a hint of steel to her voice as she added, "And to make sure the end is swift if I can't."

South grinned, "Maybe that last part in particular is why I want to tag along."

C.T. gave her a knowing smile as she unclenched her hands, "It is still going to be a lot of rescues and bonding that you'll probably hate though."

South groaned and looked away dramatically, "Ugh, don't remind me." She patted the sword hilt at her side, "Hopefully all the ass-kicking we should be getting into will make it worthwhile."

C.T. hummed in agreement before a soft "Thanks." suddenly left her lips for only South to hear.

South raised an eyebrow, about to ask her what the hell that had been for when…

"South! C.T.!" Tucker was calling out across the way to them, "Theta found a kickass map. Check it out!"

The black-haired boy in question blushed at the shout-out as South sighed, "And so it begins." She muttered darkly under her breath.

C.T. patted her shoulder in mock sympathy as she begrudgingly made her way over to humor the poor bastards.

York was waiting by a small town near a checkpoint in the Orcish territories, grinning at the group from where he and Delta were sitting around a smoldering campfire with Wyoming, Gamma, and Florida.

Carolina shot him a small smile that he was eager to return as the white-armored Wyoming drawled, "Ah, there you are! Always a pleasure to see you chaps."

"Very much so." Florida was quick to chime in too, "I'm pleased as punch that you're all doing well from the look of things."

Carolina knew the pleasantries rang both true and hollow all at once coming from them, though she didn't have the desire to comment on it. They were here for a reason, after all.

"Fucking give it a rest." Tex told the pair succinctly as Church nodded his head in agreement by his current, at least by Carolina's estimate, girlfriend's side.

"We don't trust you for a second." He added in a quick jab of his own for good measure.

"Well, that hurts a tad, but I'd say it is perfectly understandable." Wyoming didn't seem at all plussed by the admission.

"Oh dear." Florida, however, looked vaguely troubled at the prospect, "Perhaps we should all do some trust exercises then?"

The suggestion was readily ignored save for Sarge who harrumphed, "We have no time for trust falls and other hippie claptrap!" He declared, "Just tell us if you have the intel we need to get into the Orcish territories."

For once, Carolina appreciated how to-the-point Sarge could get when he wasn't going off on absurd, mind-breaking tangents.

"We do indeed." Florida patted a small satchel at his side, "Although there is a small caveat."

Of course there was. There had always been strings attached to any favors during their Freelancer days too. Carolina didn't like the memories this exchange was dredging up. She caught York watching her out of the corner of her eye and didn't want to give him or her far too observant brother any reasons for concern. The redhead sighed instead, "Which would be?"

"Only a small handful can go, and they will need both of us to accompany them directly." Florida explained at her prompting, tilting his head slightly, "As escorts, so to speak."

So much for directly getting what they needed and leaving. She should have guessed as much, though she had no idea what ulterior motive Florida and Wyoming might have in play currently.

"Both of you?" Church questioned the two humans as he turned to his fellow Fragment Gamma questioningly.

"Oh, Gary gets the fun job." Wyoming was quick to speak up for his friend, "He gets to help sneak the rest of you in."

At least it seemed that no one was going to be left behind in their plans.

"I'll go along on the stealth mission." Carolina was quick to speak before there could be any arguments. The sooner they got started here, the quicker they would find Simmons.

"We'll go too." York spoke up just as quickly for both himself and Delta, Carolina giving him a grateful look.

"Yo también podría irme. Será como unas vacaciones." {"I might as well go too. It will be like a vacation."} Lopez stated, and while she didn't know exactly what he had said, the golem's stepping closer to her spoke volumes for his intent.

"Stealth isn't my forte, so I guess I'll be using the front door this time around." Sarge decided.

Doctor Grey nodded her head in agreement, "I'm curious as to what going through the checkpoint is like myself."

…Which just left Church and Tex.

"We're in agreement. For once." Tex told Sarge rather amicably before thrusting her head in Florida and Wyoming's direction, "Plus, I want to keep my eyes on these two."

"Understandable, I suppose." Wyoming muttered again.

"Maybe we can try those trust exercises while we're on the road, hmm?" Florida suggested as all eyes fell onto a rather reluctant Church.

Church sighed, "Goddamn it."

Dexter Grif was wary but not altogether surprised when Locus pulled him aside, ordering the heavyset Orc to come to one of the supply rooms so that he could help move things around in there. After all, that was just the kind of grunt work that he and the rest of Temple's group of "Throw-Aways" had been doing ever since their arrival at base.

He was, however, surprised to find that the space was already in perfect order when he got there, almost exactly in the same kind of arranged setup that reminded him of when Simmons would organize and straighten things to help calm his nerves.

Grif tried pushing that particular thought down before he felt the jolt of the all-too familiar Linking Magic coursing through his veins, turning around instead to face the terrifying Locus questioningly from where he stood in the doorway, "So what was it exactly you needed me to do in here again?" He asked.

He really hoped he hadn't been brought here for a random murder session or something because that would royally suck.

"I don't need you to do anything." Locus' reply was prompt, "But he does."

As soon as the words left the tall mercenary's mouth, he stepped back to reveal that a rather anxious-looking Simmons had been hiding behind him.

"S—Simmons…" Grif began before his brain decided to unhelpfully stop working altogether.

"Grif…" Simmons was smiling slightly and Grif was entranced by the sight, neither of them seeming to notice that Locus had left and closed the door to give them privacy as they cautiously, hesitantly approached the other.

Grif found his words and nearly choked on his rush to get them out, "I'm sor—!"

But his apology was promptly cut off by the redhead reaching out with his fist and punching him in the face, which had Grif more in shock than anything else as Simmons winced in pain and held his now smarting hand gingerly with his other, "Wh—what the fuck were you thinking, leaving like that and trying to seal the Linking Magic?" The Magic User demanded through gritted teeth all the same, "I'd been worried sick and…!"

"I'm sorry." Grif was quick to say again, absolutely sincere.

Simmons' green eyes watered up, "Idiot."

"I am." Grif sighed shakily, rubbing the back of his dark-haired head, "I just majorly suck at dealing with feelings, and I didn't want to upset you even more so I…" He paused, trying to find the right words to explain things, "So I tried cutting myself out so that you wouldn't know how fucking worried I really was."

"Only that just made things worse." Simmons muttered under his breath and, yeah, the nerd had the right of it this time.

Grif looked over at him cautiously, a new wave of concern washing over him at the sight he saw, "Holy fuck, Simmons. Are you crying?"

"Sh—shut up!" Simmons sniffled and tried futilely wiping at his eyes, "I'm just doing this because my hand fucking hurts now, all right?"

Grif snorted and decided to play along even though they both knew Simmons was totally lying, "Yeah, Orcs are strong and it's like hitting an iron wall." He told him, raising a black eyebrow, "What did you expect, kiss-ass?"

He reached out and offered the other man his own hand, Simmons only considering the action for a moment before placing his hand on top of Grif's. Grif started rubbing the still no doubt hurting appendage soothingly with his fingertips.

The magic was singing in them and Grif never wanted to let go again, resisting the urge to grip too tightly as he softly asked, "Any better now?"

"Y—yeah." Simmons glanced at him rather imploringly, "But please don't do something like this again, fat-ass." He stated shakily, "I…we need you, Grif." His voice became a terrified whisper as he placed his free hand tentatively over his stomach before dropping it to his side, "Especially with…"

He trailed off as if he couldn't say it out loud. Grif squeezed his hand even more.

Right, there was just so much to talk about now given the situation they were in, even if Grif wanted nothing more than to stay right there with Simmons forever. He paused, not wanting to break the silence just then but wanting to say something reassuring all the same…

"Grif?" Temple's voice did it for him, the door to the supply room opening as the cyan leader poked his head in curiously. He looked even more pleasantly surprised at who he happened to find Grif with. "There you are!" he stated cheerily to Grif before glancing over in Simmons' direction, not commenting on how their hands had so quickly dropped to their sides, "And you're with the other person I was hoping to run into. Will wonders ever cease?"

Both Grif and Simmons glanced at one another as Temple cast a speculative look their way, "Huh. I didn't know you two knew each other though." He said as they were left wondering just what it was the Orc wanted right then.

Author's Notes: Yay, they finally had a proper face-to-face reunion! :D Everyone is moving on with their plans now, so now we'll get to see the plot take shape. :)

…I might also be starting a new WIP soon because I have no self-control. I apologize for that already. XD

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you so much for reading! :)