"There are two beds, correct? I would hate to have to force my boss to sleep on the couch," said Moira as she walked into their new room.
"Why am I the one that would have to sleep on the couch?" Gabriel paused at the doorway.
"Because the taller one always gets the bed."
"Oh right, right, yeah, almost forgot about that nonexistent rule." Moira cast a smirk from over her shoulder and opened the door that separated the bedroom and bathroom from the kitchen and what could loosely be called a living room. "You're in luck, there are two beds."
"Glad they didn't mess that up."
The plan was that three stay in one room and two in another. The Blackwatch team decided to go with the seating arrangements they had chosen in the hoagie shop earlier that day, sticking him with Moira once more. Gabe didn't mind, however. He found himself to have grown the smallest bit fond of her company in the previous months. She certainly wasn't his friend, or even an acquaintance for that matter, but she was calm, and her dry sense of humor was enjoyable; all in all, she was very tolerable, and Gabriel needed to associate with someone tolerable every now and then less he lose his mind completely.
He gave his surroundings a onceover before trekking to the bedroom. It was simple: two beds, a nightstand, upon which stood a small lamp, and to the left, a bathroom. Moira had claimed the twin closest to the bathroom and had removed its pillows and stretched a blanket over its expanse. She glanced in his direction before returning to her task of renovating the bed, pulling pillows from her multiple bags of luggage and meticulously placing them upon the mattress. "I find the beds in hotels to be uncomfortable," she explained lamely. He nodded and stepped over to his portion of the room, placing himself on the end of the thin bed and crossing his legs. "You're something, you know that, right?" Gabe watched her fold another blanket atop the first. "I'm aware," she confirmed.
He studied her as she worked, smoothing the wrinkles in the covers with a large hand and making sure every pillow was where she wanted it to be. How she worked so assiduously reminded him of the way she went about her tasks in the lab; off in her own little world, she became focused and precise, performing each task carefully yet quickly, making sure everything was absolutely perfect before allowing herself to relax. He often wondered what went on in that strange mind of hers, what gave her the ability to process such perplexing information at such an accelerated rate. She was so much more than just smart, that couldn't have been the answer. Perhaps the answer was that she's brilliant, or even better yet, possessed some form of hyper-intelligence.
Or maybe hyper-intelligence and insanity balanced on a pencil's edge. Perhaps that was his answer.
Whatever it was, Gabriel knew one thing: Moira O'Deorain was an enigma wrapped in a riddle; a puzzle that couldn't be solved; a code that couldn't be cracked. She wasn't something that was meant to be understood, and so everyone and everything around her was forced to live in ignorance, clueless to the odd inner-workings of that incredible brain.
She finished redesigning her mattress and looked to him expectantly. "Do you need to use the restroom for anything? I'm in need of a shower."
He shook his head. "Nah, go on. I'm going to head downstairs and what kind of food they have, anyways."
"We ate hardly an hour ago."
"I'm just going to look. Maybe I could bring something up for later." She had a look on her face that screamed really? He got up off his ass and cracked his knuckles. "Do you want anything specific? If they have it, I'll get it for you."
"I'm fine, thank you," she responded, and headed into the bathroom, a small pile of clothes draped across her forearm.
After her departure into the shower, he made his way from Room 314 down to the hotel's cafeteria. It wasn't packed, but a substantial amount of residents filled up the tables and buffet line. As he walked closer, he noticed that among these residents (of course) was none other then Jesse McCree, sitting at a table and stuffing his face with as much food as he could fit, a few containers residing near his plate.
Gabe had a feeling he knew what happened.
He traveled over to his Southern friend and asked the question, "They sent you down to get food?" Jesse swallowed, looked up at him, and replied with, "Said I was talking too much, and they needed a little peace and quiet."
"I figured that was it."
"What about Moira? What happened to her?"
"Showering. How's the food?"
"Mighty fine, Boss. Go get some, we'll sit and have a chat then."
Gabriel followed the man's orders, stepping in line and fixing himself something to eat, internally commenting on how amazing everything smelled. Truthfully, he wasn't starving like Jesse seemed to be, but the scent alone was delectable enough to help him work up a small appetite.
Along his way, with each portion he put on his plate, he made an effort to pick out types of food he thought Moira would enjoy and placed some into a container. She couldn't not eat for the rest of the night, he thought. He was going to make sure she did, regardless of how annoyed she might become. That toothpick isn't losing anymore weight.
The silverware was located at the very end of the line. He picked up a couple of forks and knives, keeping O'Deorain in mind.
"Wow," sung a female voice, and he flipped around to notice a short woman looking up at him.
She looked hammered. She smelled hammered.
"I've got to say, Guy, you've got some muscular thighs. And, wow, like, a really tight..." she trailed off and began laughing. Gabe didn't need her to finish to understand what she was trying to get across. "You're high," was all he said. The brunette nodded as her laugh died down. "I'm sorry, I just had to. You're super good-looking."
"Thanks..."
There wasn't a fiber of his being that didn't want to run away and hide.
"Did you come here with anyone?"
"Uh, yeah, my..." Think, God damnit. "my, uh, boyfriend. He's waiting for me over there."
"Well, tell him I said he's a very lucky man."
"I will."
The woman strode over to a hallway, waving her goodbyes as she left, and disappeared into a newly-opened elevator.
Gabriel practically sprinted back to Jesse, looking over his shoulder once or twice to make sure that woman wasn't following. Only when he sat down did he realize McCree was casting him strange looks. "You alright there? Were gone for a while."
"Jesus Christ," he sighed. "There was this lady who was baked out of her mind complimenting my ass, and the only way I got her to leave was by telling her you were my boyfriend."
The laughing fit Jesse broke into was unlike anything Gabe has ever witnessed.
Smirking, he added, "She also told me to tell you that you're 'a very lucky man.'"
"Stop!" the Cowboy inhaled, trying desperately to catch his breath in between laughs.
Eventually, his laughter subsided, becoming nothing more than a few giggles.
"Speaking of relationships, Boss," McCree said, clearing his throat, "I got a genuine question: where do you and Moira stand?"
"We aren't together," he responded. "We're not even friends, really."
"You know, sitting with her at that place in the airport and being stoked about her being your roommate tells me otherwise."
"The only reason I did any of that was because I wouldn't have to sit there and listen to the three of you act like assholes to each other."
"We're just horsing around."
"Still," and as an afterthought, Gabriel added, "and why do you care who I'm dating?"
"Because then I'd win the bet."
"What bet?"
"Gabriel!" Gerard's voice rang in his ears, and he glanced to his right to see the French man jogging towards him.
"What happened?" he questioned. The man held his head low as to not be forced to speak as loudly. "We've just received news from Commander Morrison: the facility in Oslo has been attacked. The entire building is in shambles with a total of thirteen casualties in counting; five are dead, the rest are wounded." Lacroix's voice, although quiet, was filled with haste and worry. Gabe, on the other hand, could hardly swallow. The building was destroyed.
The building was destroyed, and people have died.
The building was destroyed, and people have died for no reason.