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 Four:
The sounds of Lopez and Sarge working on cars filled the Project Freelancer Garage employee breakroom. Dexter Grif sighed, managing to stifle a yawn in the process.
He wondered just how long he needed to stay and pretend to be professional before he took another break. After all, there was always the rare instance that someone needed to hire a ride, a looming threat of work constantly hanging over Grif's head.
As it was, the only real reason that the chubby man wasn't currently taking a nap was because Matthews had once again brought coffee and baked goods back from the Big Gulp. He scarfed down a muffin, distantly remembering asking Matthews earlier how that barista, Bitters, was.
Not that Grif particularly cared, but he felt like it was only polite to offer some kind of small talk before partaking of baked goods that he hadn't technically bought himself. He watched apathetically as the intern's face went bright red, the kiss-ass somehow managing to stammer out that Bitters was just fine. Now Matthews was hiding out in one of the garage's backrooms.
Considering how embarrassed he had been, the auburn-haired intern probably wouldn't be coming out of there for several hours. That is, unless Carolina eventually forced the younger man to.
But, that was probably unlikely since she had gone into her office at the start of the work day and hadn't come out since. Not that Grif was going to complain about her absence. As a self-proclaimed lazy employee, he tended to benefit from the boss not hanging around to supervise.
Out of the corner of his eye, Grif could see Church staring at his sister's closed office door with a look of growing frustration and worry.
"You going to check in on her?" Grif asked, not really caring about the answer but figuring he might as well fake concern.
Church snorted, turning his blue-eyed gaze from the direction of the door, "Yeah, like I want my fucking head ripped off right now." He remarked testily.
Grif shrugged lazily, "Better you go than one of us."
"Ugh. Don't remind me." Church let out a long-suffering sigh, "You assholes better be grateful I'm so charitable."
"Oh, we are." Grif couldn't help but counter sarcastically, reaching for another muffin.
Church gave him the finger in return.
Tucker rolled his eyes at their behavior, his own brown eyes fixated on the closed door, "Any idea what Carolina does in there?" he asked, "I mean, I know when I have a door closed all day it usually means I'm—!"
"Tucker, that's my sister in there. So, if you try finishing that sentence I will fucking end you. Or get her to do it. Whatever." Church cut the dark-skinned man's comment off with a glare before shrugging, "And I don't know. Business stuff, I guess."
"We're hardly ever fucking busy here!" Tucker exclaimed, putting down his coffee cup.
Church gave him a blank look, "Well, why don't you ask her if you're so goddamned curious?" He countered.
"No thanks. I like being able to walk straight." Tucker scoffed at Church's notion as if it was the dumbest idea he had ever heard (it was).
Grif remained silent throughout their exchange. Truthfully, so long as he still got paid he could care less about the mystery looming in their midst. After all, it wasn't like Carolina would do anything that would jeopardize the garage.
No, if he cared more about things in general, he would be worried that Caboose hadn't come back yet from his errands because that probably meant that the blond had gotten lost. It wasn't uncommon for the blue-wearing "errand boy" to get distracted somewhere along the way back to the Project Freelancer Garage.
Grif saw Church glancing at the clock on the wall and frowning, which no doubt meant that he was thinking along the same lines. Damn it. Now Grif felt like he kind of should care at least a little bit.
Right before Grif could suggest that they send Andersmith out again to look for Caboose, the view out of the breakroom was blocked by three figures standing in the doorway.
Church's face momentarily lit up at the appearance of Tex, while Tucker did a double-take at the sight of one of the people behind her, "No fucking way!" he stated in disbelief, standing up from his chair to head over to them, "You actually did it!"
Washington's face turned slightly red at the attention, and he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "Well, I told you I would, didn't I?"
"Yeah, but I didn't think you actually would!" Tucker was beaming happily.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Washington muttered sarcastically under his breath.
There was an awkward fidgeting from behind the blond and Tex. Grif started at the sight of red hair and nervous green eyes that met him. He had to do a doubletake then because, seriously, what the fuck was Simmons doing there?
Twenty minutes later and Grif was still pondering over that very question as he and Simmons had been less-than-subtly tasked with finding Caboose. If the tan-skinned man ever found himself having the drive or energy to do so, he seriously needed to get new friends.
He could still picture the smirks that had been on Tucker, Church, and Tex's faces as they had all but shoved the two of them out the door. Tex was, of course, all too eager to join in on the "fun" once she suspected what was going on, while Washington looked on in good-natured confusion. No doubt Tucker would fill him in on what was happening later. The asshole.
Even Andersmith's offer to help was rejected on the grounds that the older intern, along with Sheila, needed to help convince Matthews to leave the backroom that he was still holed up in. It seemed as though Grif's friends just loved coming up with new ways to make things weird for him.
Grif let out a tired, long-suffering sigh as he and Simmons headed towards Armonia Park. He had a feeling that Caboose was likely there, no doubt snapping up pictures with Freckles of the changing leaves to show Church later. It was a pretty good guess considering that it had been where Andersmith had found the blond the last two times he had gotten lost.
Simmons, who had been mostly quiet ever since they had been shoved outside of the Project Freelancer Garage, was walking awkwardly next to him. The redhead looked for all the world like he would bolt if Grif so much as sneezed the wrong way.
Not really a big fan of uncomfortable silences himself, though comfortable ones were a whole other story, Grif glanced over at the fidgety redhead in maroon, "Sorry that you got dragged into this too. I guess." He muttered.
Simmons blinked, apparently taken aback that Grif had even deigned to talk to him. In a way, his reaction reminded Grif of the few times he had spoken privately to Simmons back in high school.
At length, the maroon-wearing man managed to squeak out a reply, "It—it's okay, Grif." He assured him, "Really."
Grif raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure? Because I'm pretty certain that if I had time off from working for Hargrove, I wouldn't want to be doing chores that I wasn't getting paid for."
Simmons' face flushed, "He's…not so bad." He mumbled.
Grif rolled his eyes, "Give it a few more days and you'll see."
Simmons said nothing in reply, frowning and looking lost in thought. His green eyes were taking in the expanse of the park that they had just walked into. Grif watched him do so, having nearly forgotten that Simmons hadn't been back to Rat's Nest since before the park had opened.
It was a new experience for the nerd, and it showed quite a bit on his freckled face. Simmons wore such a look of quiet awe over something that Grif had taken for granted in the years since it had been created that the chubby man couldn't help staring.
When Grif realized that his gaze had probably lingered for far too long, he coughed slightly, "Caboose should be around here somewhere." He muttered under his breath.
Simmons nodded, "I don't think I've met him yet."
"Pretty sure you haven't." Grif replied, staring around at the various trees and foliage, "He met Church a few months after you left."
"I see." Simmons shifted on his feet awkwardly, "They're roommates, right?"
"Along with Tex."
"Ah, because she and Church are…" The redhead's voice trailed off, face going red.
Grif smirked at Simmons' reaction, "Because they're together, you mean?" He teased, "Aw, man, to think you can't even say something like that without blushing!"
"I—it's not that funny, jackass!" Simmons shot back quickly.
Even though the lanky man's face had turned a brilliant shade of red by this point of the conversation, there was an indignant fire flaring to life in his eyes. Grif absolutely loved it.
"Hey, your weird hang-ups aren't anything to me." Grif told Simmons nonchalantly, trying to cover up his amusement as he shrugged his shoulders in an indifferent manner to further prove his point.
Simmons sighed and seemed to count to ten mentally before risking another glance at a far too smug Grif, "Everyone new that I met at the garage seemed nice." He started up conversationally after a few moments.
Grif snorted, "Give it another few visits and you'll change your mind."
Simmons raised a red eyebrow, "Really? Then why still work there?"
Grif replied with another shrug of heavyset shoulders, "A man's got to eat, Simmons." He stated in a pseudo-sage voice. There were a few moments of silence, and Grif sighed before elaborating, "But I guess they're okay, for a bunch of assholes."
Simmons seemed rather relieved by the answer, "Donut really seems to like everyone." He noted quietly, "He always talks about them in his letters."
"He actually writes you real letters?" Grif looked over at Simmons in disbelief.
Simmons nodded, "With handmade stationary and calligraphy, no less. Oh, and they're scented."
Grif whistled. That sounded a lot like their mutual friend, all right.
"He always complains when I shoot him back an email instead." Simmons was smiling somewhat at the recollection, looking somewhat relaxed now that they were on a less tense subject.
"I'll bet." Grif mumbled, deciding that not only did he like this side of Simmons, but that he wanted to see more of it in general.
Simmons turned to fix Grif with a look, one that was both hesitant and curious all at the same time, "How is your sister doing?" he asked tentatively.
Grif started a bit at the question, surprised that Simmons even remembered that he had a little sister to begin with. He could count the number of times on one hand that they had probably met when Simmons was still living in Rat's Nest.
"She's good." He finally responded, "She's attending college now and being a pain in my ass. As usual."
Simmons nodded his head and smiled somewhat wistfully, "You two always had an interesting dynamic."
Grif snorted, "If by "interesting" you mean "driving each other up a fucking wall," then yeah."
Simmons looked embarrassed once more, sheepishly turning his attention to the ground, "W—well, I never had any siblings," he shrugged helplessly, "So I always thought it was great how you had her back."
Grif raised an eyebrow, "Anyone ever tell you that you're weird?"
"A—am not!" Simmons' voice rose in pitch with his indignation.
"Uh-huh, sure. Just keep telling yourself that, Simmons." Grif teased him.
Simmons slumped slightly as if in defeat, shaking his head, "I shouldn't have bothered." He muttered under his breath.
Grif nodded his head in agreement, grinning self-satisfactorily, "Probably not. But it does beg the question, why?"
It was the question Grif had been asking himself ever since he had seen Simmons at Project Freelancer. He figured now was as good a time as any to ask it.
Simmons looked up from his self-defeated posture to glance over at Grif questioningly, "What do you mean?"
Grif figured he might as well take the plunge fully if he had gotten to this point, "Why come to the garage in the first place, let alone let yourself get dragged along on this silly "Find Caboose" errand?" He asked the redhead, "Fuck, for that matter, why come back to this shithole at all? Why work for Hargrove?"
Why live with Hargrove too? Though Grif couldn't bring himself to ask that question just yet. It already looked as if he had bombarded Simmons with enough questions given how red-faced and withdrawn the other man suddenly seemed to be underneath his questioning gaze.
"I—I well, that is…" Simmons started stammering as if in a panic.
Afraid that Simmons might actually pass out from lack of oxygen with all of his gasping, Grif instinctively reached out and put a steadying hand on his shoulder, "Easy now, Simmons." He stated quietly, trying a joke to lighten the mood, "This is where you tell me to fuck off because it's none of my business, right?"
Simmons swallowed in a huge gulp of air, his eyes fixated on the lingering hand still planted gently on his shoulder. His blush intensified as he shook his head, "N—no, it's…okay." He finally mumbled, "It's just…" Simmons paused as if wracking his brain for the right word to describe everything, "Complicated."
"Complicated." Grif echoed, nodding his head a second later, "All right. So, a politely worded "fuck off" it is then."
Simmons looked downright stricken as Grif reluctantly withdrew his hand, "That's not—!"
"Grif!" A familiar voice shouted from behind them, cutting the nerd off, "And a new person I don't know! Hello, new person!"
Almost reluctantly, Grif and Simmons both turned around to find the smiling face of Michael J. Caboose. The younger blond-haired man had a pile of leaves in one hand, and he was clutching his smartphone in the other.
"Freckles," Caboose said to the phone then, "Say hello!"
"HELLO." A surprisingly booming voice came from the phone.
Simmons, seeming both relieved for the interruption and disappointed all at once, glanced over at Grif questioningly.
"His phone is named Freckles." The orange-wearing driver said in way of an explanation, as if that would clear everything up. From the look of confusion deepening on Simmons' face, it did not.
"Did you come to play in the park too?" Caboose carried on, his voice excited as he looked around, "Is Church here playing hide-and-don't-seek?"
"Actually, Caboose, Church is playing that game back in the garage." Grif stated calmly, with a practiced air, "He's waiting for you to come back and not find him."
"That doesn't even make sense!" Simmons stated quietly in disbelief from where he was standing next to Grif.
Grif shot him a "just give it a minute" look.
Caboose nodded his head at what Grif had told him, "Oh, he is the best at that game! I have to tell him what a great job he is doing!"
With that, Caboose ran forward past both Grif and Simmons in the direction of the Project Freelancer Garage. Simmons stared after the blue-wearing man in continued disbelief, while Grif smirked at the puzzlement on his face.
"It is never boring around here." He remarked, unable to keep a slight tone of enjoyment from his normally apathetic-sounding voice at Simmons' reaction, "Trust me. I'd rather it be fucking boring."
Simmons shook his head before turning to look at Grif, a smile subconsciously beginning to form on his features that looked quite nice on him, "Tell me about it, fat-ass."
Tucker could not stop staring and grinning at Washington, even as he showed the blond where his car was parked just inside the garage.
"What is it?" David Washington finally asked with a bit of a sigh.
"Nothing." Tucker said far too quickly for it to be true, the grin on his face growing impossibly large, "I mean, it is that here you fucking are!"
"Here I am." Wash couldn't help repeating with an amused look crossing over his features.
"I just never expected you to actually listen to me, you know?" Tucker's voice had an excited edge to it, as if he had just won some amazingly fantastic prize instead of just hanging out with Washington.
"I get that." Washington rolled his gray eyes but couldn't help himself from smiling at Tucker's enthusiasm, "What do you mean by "actually?" I always listen to you."
Tucker snorted, "Yeah, but actually listening and actually doing are two very fucking different things."
Wash frowned, "Telling me to find a new job isn't exactly practical advice at the moment, Tucker."
Not for lack of trying, at any rate.
"Well, it totally should be, dude." Tucker scoffed, but even the mention of one of their often argued about topics of discussion didn't seem to be able to detract from his good mood.
The fact that it was merely Washington showing up here that caused such happiness to sprout inside of Tucker? Well, the former Freelancer couldn't describe how ridiculously happy that made him feel. He really needed to rein in his feelings for the other man, and pronto.
Evidently, the blond wasn't the only one who thought so given the long-suffering groan that came from across the parking space just then.
"Get a fucking room already, you two!" Church shouted at them when his dark-haired face came into view.
Both Tucker and Washington turned slightly red at the exclamation, though Tucker quickly recovered and promptly gave Church the finger for good measure.
"Like you're one to talk, Church!" Tucker shouted back, "What are you and Tex even doing back here?"
"Not what we came in here for with you two assholes in the way!" Church retorted.
From next to him, Tex rolled her brown eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded Church coolly. "Classy." She noted, sarcasm dripping from the word.
Church took a step back from his girlfriend as if afraid that she might be gearing up to punch him, but the blonde simply seemed more amused by the man's eagerness than anything else.
The cobalt-wearing man groaned at the realization, "I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?"
"That you're totally and completely whipped?" There was a mischievous glint in Tex's eyes, "I don't think so."
Church turned to glare at Tucker and Wash, "Thanks a lot. Assholes."
"Hey! That's totally on you, dude." Tucker noted with what could be equated to a shit-eating grin.
Church muttered something about hating his life while Tex slapped him a little too jovially on the back, Tucker watching the exchange with a knowing sort-of look crossing over his dark-skinned features.
"We better go see what the others are up to, unless you want to see something I bet you're too young to see." Tucker informed Wash.
"Tucker, I'm older than you so what the hell are you talking about?" And then Washington paused as understanding began to dawn on him, his face going red, "Oh."
"Yeah. Oh." Tucker repeated, grabbing Washington's hand and pulling him towards the door.
Wash let himself be pulled, enjoying the feel of Tucker's hand on his.
Three of the other Project Freelancer Garage employees had situated themselves in the work area of the building, Sarge and Lopez having finished up their work for the day and currently sitting with Sheila.
The personal assistant was currently going over a paper with the Spanish-speaking mechanic, their heads bent low together. Washington didn't want to disturb the pair as they seemed to be in the middle of something important. Fortunately, the unencumbered Sarge caught sight of Tucker and Washington first.
"Andersmith is still trying to coax Matthews out," Sarge informed them without preamble, "And there's still no sign of Caboose or that good-fer-nothing Grif."
Wash frowned, knowing that Simmons had gone with Grif to find Caboose. Well, it was more like the redhead had been forced to go along with the heavyset man. He hoped that Simmons and Grif hadn't gotten lost or something along the way. He would hate to have to tell Hargrove that he lost his newly acquired assistant.
"Si todavía no lo han encontrado, apuesto a que la gorda está llenando su rostro en alguna parte." {"If they haven't found him yet, I bet the fat one is stuffing his face somewhere."}
Sheila smiled slightly and shook her head at whatever it was that Lopez had just said, not bothering to translate for the rest of the group.
"Well said, Lopez!" Sarge agreed with whatever it was that he thought the other mechanic had said, "That Simmons fellow is far too timid to stop Grif from gorging himself yet again."
Lopez looked up, sharing a surprised look with Sheila: "Mierda, eso es casi lo que dije." {"Holy shit, that's nearly exactly what I said."}
"I know, Lopez, I know!" The older man sighed a long-suffering sigh, "If I had the authority, I would have fired his keister long ago too."
"No importa. Se me olvidó que incluso un reloj roto está justo dos veces al día." {"Never mind. I forgot that even a broken clock is right twice a day."}
Lopez sighed himself, though he couldn't help but smile slightly when Sheila reached over and touched his arm gently. That action led to Washington looking down towards his own hand, still grasped gently in Tucker's warm one. He sincerely hoped that Tucker wouldn't notice anytime soon.
Washington hadn't been around the garage in so long. He had nearly forgotten just how lively and entertaining everyone here could be. A part of him really missed it. He made a mental note that he should try to stop by more often, particularly if Tucker would always continue to act so happy to see him every time he did manage to come over.
Tucker seemed to notice the blush that was beginning to form on the blond's freckled face. The teal-wearing driver looked as though he was about to question what was up when, thankfully for Washington, a door opened towards the back of the building.
Everyone in the work area were still very much in their relaxed postures, most likely assuming that the two interns, Matthews and Andersmith, were the ones entering their midst. None of them seemed to be expecting their boss, Carolina Church. The redhead strode into the main area of the garage as her green eyes took them all in, saying nothing.
Tucker's hand almost reluctantly left Wash's own then, and Washington suddenly felt rather cold standing there. Leave it to Carolina to kill the mood, as her brother Church so often said.
It was Sarge who broke the silence first, straightening up and saluting in an old habit of his from his service days, "Boss."
Carolina nodded in his direction, a momentary look of fondness crossing over her features at the oddball assortment of so many of her employees there.
That look faded when her gaze landed on Washington, her entire posture stiffening, "Wash." She stated in way of greeting, only slightly inclining her head towards him at the same time.
Washington swallowed down the urge to call her "Boss" as Sarge had done just like how he had so many times in the past, instead opting to go with a squeaked out, "Carolina."
Tucker glanced between the two former Freelancers in the same fashion as the other three Project Freelancer Garage employees did. Then, to ease some of the tension in the room, the dark-skinned man blurted out, "Tex is here too. With Church."
Carolina glanced in Tucker's direction wryly before settling her cold as ice stare back on her former teammate, "That doesn't shock me."
Tucker looked over at Washington then and shrugged helplessly, obviously completely out of his element. Not that the blond could blame him. Carolina could, and often did, scare the shit out of most people.
Washington sighed, the cheerful feeling of being back at the Project Freelancer Garage suddenly fading. Now he remembered why he had decided to stay away despite liking the overall atmosphere of the place. The sad thing was that he didn't blame Carolina for feeling and acting as she did. He would have likely felt much the same in her position.
He turned to leave, deciding it was for the best to make a quick exit of things before it get any more awkward or uncomfortable for everyone while making a note to call Tucker later to apologize), "Well, I think I should get go—"
"Wait."
It was surprisingly Carolina's voice that stopped him, her tone just then more request than outright demand. It was enough to catch Wash off-guard. He turned around to face her, catching the equally surprised and curious looks of Tucker and the others in the process.
Carolina took in a deep breath as though what she had to say was hard for her (maybe it was), "Your mechanic friend…Kimball, is it?"
Washington nodded, surprised that Carolina remembered that detail about Kimball considering that the dark-skinned woman had been to the garage even less than Wash had.
"I hear she wants to start up a business in Blood Gulch."
This was the second time that someone outside of the usual circle knew that information. It was quite a curious, almost unsettling, turn of events. Washington raised a blond eyebrow, immediately turning his head to Tucker questioningly. The dark-skinned man looked just as surprised as he felt, mouthing something along the lines of not having had the chance to talk to her about it yet himself.
"How'd you find that out?" Washington finally asked Carolina, voice dry.
This was, after all, more Kimball's private business than anything else. For it to be so widely known…
Carolina shrugged, "That really isn't important."
Washington would beg to differ, but he knew that would be pointless to do with Carolina of all people. Besides, he not only wanted to see where this was going, but it was also a rare instance in which he was almost having a friendly conversation with the red-haired woman. He didn't want to mess that up.
Still, he couldn't help but be caught off-guard once more by what Carolina had to say next on the Kimball matter. She took in another deep breath of air, standing her ground, "If possible, I'd like for you to arrange a meeting between the two of us."
Author's Notes: By the way, Andersmith did eventually convince Matthews to stop hiding in the backroom. They even went to Donut's Big Gulp later so that he could see Bitters again! XD
There might be a slight time-skip in the next chapter, as well as possibly the inclusion of some more character POVs. I still haven't decided yet if I will do so or just keep it only at Grif and Washington's POVs currently. Still, I hope that you will enjoy the next part and that you had fun reading this chapter too! :)
Thank you very much for taking the time to read Just Drive! :D