a/n: Whatever. Cross and Doug discuss tactics.
"Would you stop saying that?" Doug stood up and crossed his arms.
"What?"
"When I ask about tactics, I want a real answer."
"Whatever." Insect hums, dripping leaves, a distant ocean roar. A sigh mixed with a gulp. "You know how to fight. I'm ..." A shrug to replace the now forbidden word.
Doug shuffled close, laying a hand like a mallet on Cross' shoulder. "We're better together, but I need to know what you got. Speed? Observations? Bubble gum?"
Cross snorted. "Bubble gum?"
"It's a place to start. I could use something to stop grinding my teeth."
Next up: Rigorous.