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 Three:
Dexter Grif came back to the garage just as Carolina was closing it down for the night, her hand resting on the front entrance's door. She nodded her head slightly in way of greeting, "Everyone else has gone home."
That was fine by Grif, as he only had about half an hour to spare before The Big Gulp did the same. The less time he spent at work the better it was for him. He fucking hated having to do shit. Besides, it was better to not have to deal with Sarge's threats, or both Tucker and Church's joking commentary on what exactly happened earlier in the day.
"Heading home yourself?" Grif asked his boss in way of small talk, secretly hoping she hadn't suddenly developed a new chatty personality in the couple of hours since he had last seen the former Freelancer.
Carolina stared at him sharply for a few moments before responding, "It's not really any of your business."
Well, shit. Definitely not a new personality then. The chubby man should have figured that would have been her answer considering that Carolina really wasn't one for polite conversation.
"Geez, sorry I asked." Grif couldn't help muttering under his breath all the same.
There was an uncomfortable silence filling the Project Freelancer garage for a few moments as the red-haired woman's expression softened slightly. It was almost as if Carolina had realized that she had maybe been a bit too harsh to one of her employees just then, but was uncertain of how to interact with him.
Finally, the awkward silence was broken as Carolina sighed, "How was your drive to the airport? With Hargrove?"
Her question had the orange-wearing driver thinking back to earlier, her features reminiscent of ones he had seen today when out on assignment. Grif found himself thinking of equally red hair and green eyes to Carolina's own, only those features were framed by a face with a myriad spattering of freckles across it that the older woman's face lacked.
Grif tried pulling the image of Simmons from his mind as he shrugged nonchalantly, "It went about as well as it usually goes." He informed the cyan-wearing woman.
"Good." She nodded slightly and closed the door fully, locking it using the nearby electronic key pad, "I don't have to tell you how important it is to stay on his good side, Grif."
Not that the old asshole really had a "good" side, but Grif understood well enough what she meant. It was only through continued "good will" between Project Freelancer and Hargrove that the garage was even allowed to operate semi-independently. Pissing Hargrove off in a big way could literally and figuratively end them. Charon owned practically everything and everyone in Rat's Nest.
…No fucking pressure or anything.
Grif nodded his head, "I know."
"It's a miracle that stunt Tucker pulled didn't have more lasting repercussions." Carolina noted with a sigh before promptly turning on her heels with a wave over her shoulder in the chubby man's general direction, "Good night, Grif."
"Night, boss."
The redhead paused for a moment at his comment before starting up her walk again, as though what Grif had said had reminded her of something else.
After Carolina had disappeared from sight, Grif decided that it was time to head in the direction of Donut's coffee shop nearby. He was going to get some answers from the dirty blond whether the pink-wearing man liked it or not.
The Big Gulp was located just a few blocks down from Project Freelancer, on the same street as Valhalla Clinic.
Grif went the opposite way when heading to The Big Gulp, the longer route that bypassed the clinic. Sure, it was more effort on his part, but he sure as hell didn't want to run into Sarge if he could avoid it.
The red-wearing former soldier would no doubt be on his way to see his girlfriend at Valhalla Clinic, and Grif had the feeling that he would need all of his patience for the conversation ahead of him. That meant no time for maniacally crazy Sarge. His sanity could only take so freaking much in a day.
The corner building that Donut's coffee house was located at was an unassuming one, with rows of flowers in windowsills and a few coffee mugs and teacups put up behind the glass for decorative purposes. Grif could already make out the interior paint color, even before he had stepped up to the building, due to the large glass windows and the glass door. Of course, it didn't hurt that the paint was a jarring shade of purple. A paint chosen because Donut had not-at-all-jokingly asked Doc for his favorite color when deciding on hues.
Grif usually considered the quiet café a refuge of sorts due to how easily he could take a nap in it, but tonight he saw it as a place steeped in betrayal. …Okay, even just stepping close towards The Big Gulp had one taking up Donut's flair for the dramatics.
He sighed at the thought, quickly stepping inside the space. As could be expected at this hour, The Big Gulp was nearly deserted. The small tables and plush seating were empty save for one chair that was currently occupied by a fidgety young man in yellow.
Grif had to do a double-take because, for a moment, he almost thought that Simmons had suddenly changed clothes and was magically sitting in the café. But, the auburn hair and familiar glasses gave away the identity of the younger-than-Simmons kiss-ass who was currently seated there.
"Matthews." Grif said in way of greeting to the intern, figuring that it was only polite. Or whatever.
Matthews, who had been reading a book while still managing to look nervous, started at his name being called. He squinted upwards at Grif, nearly spilling his coffee in his attempt to stand up a second later.
"Gr—Grif, sir!" Matthews sputtered out in true suck-up fashion, clearly letting his surprise give way to his true nature.
Grif raised an eyebrow at the younger man's behavior, surprised to see him so jittery, "Isn't it a little late for coffee?"
Come to think of it, the kid was always here even in his spare time. It was almost as if…
"I…!" The younger man turned red-faced at Grif's bored questioning and looked to the side, trailing off as if unsure how to respond.
Grif sighed, figuring he wasn't going to get much out of the intern and that he should just get on his way.
"Is everything all right?" An apathetic voice cut in just then, causing Grif to pause.
Both men turned to see another young man with dark skin and multi-colored hair regarding them. The newcomer had an orange apron on to signify that he worked at the café, and there was an uncaring air about him that Grif would almost admire in any other situation. He seemed like a maverick. Grif liked that.
But, truthfully, the youth's dark eyes were anything but apathetic as he bore holes into Grif's skull. No, if anything, they looked fucking pissed. Grif realized why that was as the café employee's eyes flicked back and forth between him and Matthews.
The barista in the orange apron must have thought that Grif was harassing the kid!
Grif put his hands up in the air defensively, "Everything's fine." He stated as lazily as he could muster, "I was just talking to Matthews here since he interns over at the garage I work at."
The man, his name tag stated that his name was Antoine Bitters, glanced over at the sheepish-looking Matthews just then.
Matthews nodded his head in confirmation of what Grif had just told him, "I—it's okay, Bitters."
At length, Bitters relaxed and nodded. "…Sorry." He muttered under his breath to Grif.
Grif shrugged, "Eh, it's cool."
Truthfully, he was sort of glad to know that Matthews had someone in his corner. Annoying as the kiss-ass could be, he was an okay kid. Not that Grif would ever tell him that. He had a fucking reputation to maintain after all.
"My shift is over." Bitters informed Matthews without preamble a second later, as if Grif was no longer there, "I'll walk you home."
"A—are you sure?" Matthews' face took on a vibrant shade of red again.
Grif raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. None of his fucking business.
"I wouldn't have said it otherwise." Bitters told the auburn-haired intern matter-of-factly, "Come on."
He motioned for the door and Matthews nodded, turning to face Grif before leaving.
"See you tomorrow, sir!" He said in way of goodbye, before hurrying to catch up to Bitters. The barista was standing just outside the café's doorway, clearly waiting for the shorter young man to catch up to him.
That just left Grif and a pretty blond girl around Kai's age in a pink barista apron. She was evidently left to man the register at this time of night. The blonde was staring after Matthews and Bitters with what appeared to be a knowing smirk on her face, and as Grif approached she smiled at him.
"Good evening, sir." She informed him cheerily enough, "What would you like tonight? I also have to tell you that we'll be closing in ten minutes."
So, in others words, a polite way of saying "make your fucking choice and get the hell out of here." Grif could respect that, especially since he barely wanted to work with customers even when they had a full work day ahead of them.
"Actually, I'm just here to talk to Donut." Grif told her, "Is he in the back?"
"Um…" The blonde glanced over at the back door of the coffee shop, which pretty much confirmed Grif's suspicions that the pink-wearing café owner was around.
Those suspicions were further confirmed with the door opening a second later, a dirty blond head of hair poking through, "Hey, Volleyball, why don't we close a little early and—!"
Franklin Delano Donut cut himself off when he saw his heavyset friend standing there.
He blinked, caught off-guard for a moment before a smile as bright as the sun appeared on his face, "Oh, hey, Grif! Fancy seeing you here so late!" Donut greeted enthusiastically, as if he hadn't seen Grif in ages.
Grif and Donut were seated at one of The Big Gulp's tables with the café lights dimmed and the sign on the door turned to "Closed" in order to deter any late-night caffeine junkies. Donut had already sent his last employee, the oddly named Volleyball, home. So, it was currently just the two friends catching up on business.
The cup of coffee in front of Grif remained untouched, a steady current of steam wafting up from it. The two scones that Donut had placed before him, however, were gone cinnamon chips and all before the plate had even clinked onto the surface of the table.
Grif couldn't fucking help it. After all, he was an emotional eater.
"So," Donut clasped his hands together in front of himself rather innocently even though his brown eyes had a rather knowing look to them, "What can I do for you, Grif?"
"Well, to start with you could get me more of those scones," Grif stated without preamble before shooting Donut a pointed look, "And then you can tell me why you didn't say anything about Simmons coming back to Rat's Nest."
"Oh, that." Donut's reaction to Grif's comment only further fueled the chubby man's suspicion that Donut had known all along what was going on, "Isn't the answer to that a tad obvious?"
Grif said nothing, staring at his friend blankly. He just didn't have the fucking energy to play along with Donut's game.
The café owner sighed dramatically before a gigantic grin suffused his features, "Obviously, I wanted it to be a surprise, silly!"
"A surprise." Grif repeated, his tone both unbelieving and apathetic at the same time.
Donut nodded, "It was a doozy of one, wasn't it?" He asked, positively beaming, "Though I have to tell you, it wasn't easy keeping my mouth shut around such a juicy piece of news! I was primed to burst a few times!"
Given Donut's penchant for gossip, Grif couldn't help but believe him. Even if he worded his phrasing as strangely as ever.
"Besides," Donut elaborated a second later, tapping his finger to an unknown rhythm on the surface of the table, "Simmons asked me not to tell anyone."
"Why?" Grif raised a dark eyebrow, "Because he's working for a prick like Hargrove?"
A stricken look crossed over Donut's features, "That whole situation is really complicated, Grif."
Grif could imagine, especially since Simmons was apparently living with the old jackass. But, he knew from the sudden way that Donut clamped up just then that whatever else the dirty blond knew about those circumstances, it was obviously something he didn't feel comfortable sharing.
That bit of information only served to make Grif more curious, but he knew it was probably best not to pry too much. After all, a shrieking, angry Donut was murder on the ears. Plus, the pink-wearing man eventually got so high-pitched that he actually set off all of the nearby neighborhood dogs.
"I think Simmons just wanted time to adjust to things before meeting up with everyone again." Donut finally said in way of explanation.
There was definitely more to Simmons' situation than just that given the glimmer he saw in his friend's eyes, but Grif knew enough not to press it. He'd be needing a much stiffer drink if he had to deal with Donut's theatrics on top of everything else tonight.
"But, I bet seeing you must have been a real shock for Simmons too!" Donut concluded, nodding his head as though in agreement with himself, "Who knew Hargrove would bother picking him up at the airport like that?"
"It was a pretty big surprise for both of us." Grif admitted at length, staring down at his untouched coffee mug.
"How sweet!" Donut exclaimed with a happy tone to his voice as he leaned over the table, beaming once more, "You know, you two really should catch up with one another."
Had his crush on the nerd back in high school really been so obvious that apparently everyone knew about it now? Still, what Donut had said caught him off-guard somewhat and he felt his face feel hot.
"Why would Simmons want to catch up with me in particular?" Grif asked the café owner, "We barely talked in high school."
Donut shot him a pitying look just then, and Grif had to resist the urge to give his friend the finger. Just as Donut was about to say something else, there was a knock at the front door.
Both men started at the noise, though Donut rose to his feet when he saw that a pink glasses-wearing man dressed in a purple shirt with brown slacks was standing at the café's entrance. The newcomer was waving at the two of them through the glass.
"Hey, Doc!" Donut stated cheerily as he opened the door to allow the brown-haired medic inside, "How's it hanging?"
Frank "Doc" DuFresne was a medic over at Valhalla Clinic where Sarge's girlfriend, Doctor Emily Grey, worked. He was mostly known for his very unorthodox medical practices there. He also happened to be neighbors to Tucker, and so he would often babysit Junior in his spare time.
"Oh, I can't complain." Doc told Donut before nodding in Grif's direction, "Hey, Grif! Fancy seeing you here at this time of night."
"You know, I told him the same thing a little while ago!" Donut beamed at the coincidence, "What a small world, huh?"
The blush covering Doc's features at this was not something that could be easily ignored by either of the other two men in The Big Gulp, "Y—yeah."
"Isn't it a bit late for you to be here too?" Grif asked, not really caring about the answer either way. He only had so many shits to give after all.
Doc grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his brown head of hair, "Oh, well, Tucker just got back and I was in the neighborhood, so…!"
"Oh, Doc always stops by for a quick chat after watching Junior or working." Donut cut in, smiling, "Sometimes he even helps me with closing! I have the best friends!"
Judging by the blush still coating Doc's features, "friendship" wasn't the only reason he came by to visit Donut. Grif couldn't help smirking slightly, but he chose not to say anything. None of his damn business. Instead, since he was getting the impression that he was quickly becoming something of a third wheel, the tan-skinned man gulped down the steaming brown liquid before him and got up.
"Well, I guess I should get going." Grif said, heading past Doc and going towards the door.
"Remember what I told you about catching up with Simmons when you get the chance!" Donut called out, "Oh…oh! You two could have a little date right here!"
Grif snorted at the prospect, trying to ignore the part of his brain that said that wasn't such a bad idea as he stepped out into the night.
It was much later, in the early morning hours in fact, when David Washington arrived for work at Charon. He sighed as he approached the estate, already feeling a slight dread building up inside of him at the prospect of heading there once more.
At least he'd had the drive and subsequent talk with Tucker from earlier still at the forefront of his mind, and he was finding that actually walking back to work after such excursions was a good way to start the day off.
"Well, it certainly took you fucking long enough." Felix's familiar voice said from behind the blond as he stepped up to the front gate, "Did you get enough beauty sleep, Washie?"
Wash groaned at the mocking tone in his co-worker's voice, turning around to face him. Felix had emerged from behind a pillar, smirking and rubbing at a dark spot on his neck. Washington was almost going to ask what had been going on back there when Locus joined Felix, readjusting his green tie with an air of practiced efficiency and nonchalance.
Suddenly, Wash had a clearer idea of what the two mercenaries had been up to during their break. His face went completely red at the image that suddenly sprang unbidden to mind.
"There's a camera that you have to maneuver your whole body to get underneath of it just so." Felix informed the former Freelancer smugly, noting his reaction to having caught on to what the two security guards had been up to, "Makes things more exciting."
"I…I…!" Wash sputtered as his brain was about to break.
"Felix, enough." Locus cut in, thankfully saving Washington from his current mind freeze, "It's time to get to work."
"Ah, fucking killjoy." Felix muttered under his breath, though he gave a slight nod of acquiescence all the same.
"We need to relieve Tex and Kimball within the next ten minutes." Locus reminded both of them, "Let's go."
Washington allowed the taller mercenary to take the lead, grateful to be able to put his mind back to work for once.
To be honest, patrolling the estate's top floors wasn't a very exciting assignment. Basically, Washington was just there as a personal statement and to make sure that Charon's top of the line security systems were running effectively. He would be done with a patrol in about ten minutes, only for the whole process to start up again.
It was no wonder why Washington thought events over at Project Freelancer (even though he still couldn't get over that name) were livelier than his workplace, especially whenever Tucker regaled him with stories about the garage.
Truthfully, the blond was very much looking forward to going to Project Freelancer again thanks to Tucker's invite on account of that, even if it meant some awkward or even hurtful moments with Carolina.
Who knows? Maybe Tucker's optimistic and hopeful view was right and, if Washington tried more, the two former Freelancers would be able to eventually talk again just like old times.
"Um, excuse me?" A hesitant voice called out in front of him, only a short distance away.
Wash cursed himself for having momentarily been distracted by his thoughts, glancing over at the person who had spoken just then. It was a tall man with red hair, green eyes, and nearly as many freckles on his face as Wash had. The stranger was also younger than he was, probably around Tucker's age now that he thought about it.
The former Freelancer recognized the newcomer from the Charon dossier he had been given earlier. This was Richard "Dick" Simmons, Hargrove's new personal assistant. Evidently, Simmons was an old friend of sorts to Tucker and his group too.
This was Wash's first time meeting the redhead directly. He naturally assumed that Simmons needed some help finding his way around the estate given how large and daunting a place it was.
"Yes, what can I do for you?" Washington asked in a friendly enough voice. Kimball and Tex had informed him of what had happened earlier with Simmons, and there was no need to scare the poor guy any more than working here probably did already.
"You're David Washington, correct?" Simmons asked nervously without preamble, "F—from security?"
Washington was a bit surprised at the question, but nodded his head regardless.
"You're friends with Lavernius Tucker from the Project Freelancer garage, right?" Simmons questioned him further.
Wash started a bit, surprised that Simmons would know that particular piece of information so early on into his return to Rat's Nest. Perhaps his shock showed on his face more than he cared to admit, because Simmons blushed slightly and stared at the ground sheepishly.
"It…it's sort of my job to know those things." The redhead mumbled in way of explanation when he realized the silence was growing.
"I—I see." Washington straightened his posture, unsure of where this conversation was going.
"I also know that Texas hangs out there quite frequently too," Simmons continued, "And that Kimball is looking into purchasing property in Blood Gulch."
Washington really wasn't sure he liked where this was going. Was Simmons going to rat them out to Hargrove, or even attempt to somehow blackmail them? The comment about Kimball in particular would certainly lend itself to that…
He clenched his fists at his sides. Simmons noticed, and his face blanched. He quickly held up his hands in a placating posture of surrender.
"I—I'm not saying this to threaten you or anything, honest!" Simmons tried reassuring the security officer, his voice rising to higher octaves in his panic.
"Oh?" Washington raised a blond eyebrow, "Then why mention any of it at all?"
Simmons sighed, his shoulders drooping as his lanky arms sagged almost in defeat before he even answered the question.
"I was just…hoping you guys could do me a favor since you're on friendly terms with Project Freelancer." Simmons looked up before quickly adding upon seeing Wash's incredulous face, "A—a personal one. Nothing to do with Hargrove."
Washington nodded at the urgent and assuring tone in Simmons' voice, now more curious than cautious since the redhead seemed harmless enough, "What kind of favor are we talking about?"
"The next time you go to Project Freelancer," Simmons spoke in a rush, obviously wanting to get all of the words out before he lost his nerve, "Can I come too?"
Author's Notes: Another chapter is done! :) I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. :)
Just a head's up, I'll probably be taking a quick break from this story soon to get out another chapter of Remnants. My goal is to at least get out another chapter of that story and When We Were Soldiers in November along with this story too, before picking up Shiny Things again in December. Though don't worry if you're a fan of Just Drive! My main focus for the month of November will definitely be this story since it is my NaNoWriMo project. Hopefully all of the chapters will get out in a decent amount of time this month! :)
As always, thank you for taking the time to read this! :D