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 Fifteen:
Vanessa Kimball stood outside the office, inwardly debating with herself about whether or not she really wanted to go in. At length, she steeled herself and knocked.
The door opened a moment later with a hurried "Coming—!" Of course, whatever else Donald Doyle had been about to say was cut off as he stood at the now open doorway, regarding the dark skinned woman in his midst with more than just a bit of surprise.
"Ah, Miss Kimball!" The older man started up again, giving her space so that she could enter the room, "What brings you here?"
Kimball glanced around Doyle's office, not quite sure what she had been expecting. She was surprised at how similarly "lived in" his work space seemed to be when compared to her own office in Armonia. It seemed as if she wasn't the only one putting in late nights and early mornings when it came to the running of Chorus. If the genetically engineered woman was being honest with herself, she wasn't quite sure how to process that realization just yet.
She supposed it at least gave the two Chorus leaders another "plank of common ground" to stand on, as Doc or Cass might try to put it. However, such a realization did not mesh well with her earlier thoughts and opinions on the man standing before her, and it seemed as if that first impression was still a milestone she needed to get over.
Kimball sighed inwardly at her own stubbornness before the sight of travel gear and freshly polished white and gold armor sitting in the corner of Doyle's office reminded her of the reason behind her visit.
"I take it that it's true then that you'll be going on the next reclaiming mission as well?" She asked without preamble, ignoring Doyle's earlier inquiry entirely.
Doyle's expression turned to a mix of understanding and something not quite definable. Disappointment, perhaps? Kimball shook her head at the very idea since she knew that couldn't be right.
The other Chorus leader nodded at her inquiry, "Yes, well, more fellows are going this time around since the ruins are fairly large."
That was true, though it still didn't explain why he specifically had to come along. Her trail of thought must have been showing on her face because Doyle fidgeted slightly under her dark eyed gaze just then.
"As you know, the power situation in Chorus has improved but hasn't gone away completely." He informed her, nodding his head in the direction of the gear, "Chalk it up to me being either foolish or selfish, but in this moment I simply want to do more to help Chorus in any way I can."
Kimball could understand his logic more than she'd ever probably care to admit. Hell, it was the main reason why she so often stayed at the office or went out on patrols instead of just taking free time herself.
Given that, she was almost a little upset that Doyle had beaten her to the punch when it came to volunteering for this mission. Maybe that was why she had felt so compelled to confirm things with him in the first place, even though in this instance there was definitely something in Doyle's resolve to do right by Chorus that she couldn't help but respect.
"I wouldn't say that." Kimball finally stated at length, "I think it's admirable. In a way."
"Y—you do?"
It seemed as if it was now Doyle's turn to look stunned. Kimball would have been annoyed by that reaction in any other situation, but she was currently more or less amused by it.
"Actually, I'm a little upset that you beat me to it." The dark-haired woman finally admitted, deciding to take pity on the man.
Doyle regarded her with a mix of surprise and regret at what was only partially a joke, "Miss Kimball…" he began.
But Kimball cut him off with a wave of her hand, "There's plenty of things that need to be done here, so I'll be fine." She reassured him, "I'll be sure to hold down the fort while you're out adventuring for Chorus."
She halfway expected him to get annoyed at her choice of words, launching them into yet another pointless debate. Instead, Kimball was surprised when a serious look crossed over Doyle's face.
"I wouldn't have even thought of volunteering if I didn't believe that to be true." He told her emphatically.
It was the genetically engineered woman's turn to be caught off-guard. She blinked, ignoring the odd sensation of heat that burned at her face just then. She coughed to cover up her sudden awkwardness, "Yes, well, if it is all the same I'd ask that you don't take too many unnecessary risks out there."
Doyle laughed, his own face a bit red, "Rest assured, Miss Kimball, I plan on taking every precaution I can."
Taking that as her cue for dismissal, Kimball wasn't quite sure why she felt a small tinge of relief at his words.
Lavernius Tucker was taking a break from gear checks as he sat in the kitchen area of the warehouse with Washington.
He had finally convinced the Freelancer that the blond needed a break too, so they were currently sitting over two cups of steaming coffee. Wash seemed to just be enjoying the momentary silence. Hell, even Tucker had to admit that it was pretty nice, although it wasn't like he'd ever fucking say it out loud.
Still, there was also something on the dark skinned man's mind that he felt he really needed to get off his chest all the same. After all, it had been bugging him for a while now and, since it was just the two of them, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to bring it up.
"You know," Tucker began casually enough because he was smooth as fuck, finger running along the rim of his coffee mug, "I'm actually kind of relieved you and the lieutenants are coming along with us for this mission."
Since the ruins they were going to be investigating were evidently quite massive, the reclaiming team had expanded just this once to accommodate a larger traveling party. Carolina would be coming along again, as would Felix and Locus. Fuck it, even Doyle had expressed an interest in going.
Wash had evidently felt that this would be a great training opportunity for the newer recruits, so he had requested to Kimball that they come along as well. Under his supervision, of course. After all, the rookies might even end up going on more reclaiming or scavenging missions in the future.
"You are?" Wash glanced over at Tucker in surprise, no doubt having expected the younger man to say that the lieutenants' presence in particular would be more of a hassle than anything else.
In a lot of other situations, the former Freelancer would probably be right on the money with that assessment. Tucker didn't always have a shitload of patience when it came to the lieutenants. But, in this case, he sure as hell welcomed more people on their upcoming reclaiming mission.
"Let's just say I'm not as okay with Felix hanging around all the time as I used to be." He shrugged, staring off into the distance, "Honestly, I'm kind of fucking glad that he's been hanging out with his group and that Hargrove dude more than he's been showing up around here."
"What happened?" The look on Wash's face and the tone of his voice indicated that he was not going to take any joking on Tucker's sudden change of demeanor in regards to the steel and orange-armored mercenary.
Tucker shrugged, "Nothing major." He admitted because in the grand scheme of things it hadn't been, not really, "But he asked me about Junior once and it…" he sighed before continuing, "Kind of freaked me the fuck out."
Wash closed his gray eyes, taking in a deep breath. The blond was the type of person who said more in weighted silence than he ever could in words. It was one of his more annoyingly endearing qualities.
Tucker, not being a fan of silence himself, continued the conversation on his own, "I mean, I know I'm probably just being paranoid over nothing but…"
He trailed off and glanced over at a contemplative Wash who was picking the worst possible time to be a non-responsive jackass. Leave it to the genetically engineered man to not take a hint and just continue to sit there like a stick in the mud.
"You see, this is the part of the conversation where you're supposed to tell me it's all in my head, dude." Tucker informed him with a sigh before shaking his head, "Never mind. I totally forgot who I was talking to."
"Sorry, Tucker." Wash winced apologetically, though he surprised Tucker a second later by smiling awkwardly, "Though I am actually glad for the chance to be out on the field with you again."
While Tucker knew that Washington was no doubt reassessing Felix's potential threat level based on what he had just told the former Freelancer, the teal-armored soldier couldn't help but smile earnestly at the prospect of going out on a mission with Wash again too.
It didn't take long for Matthews to realize that it was really only Carolina, Doc, Donut, and Church who were helping the lieutenants with getting their gear ready for the upcoming mission. Apparently, the others had decided to make themselves scarce.
He knew that Lopez and Sheila were off doing repairs to some of their latest reclaimed tech, while Tucker had pulled Wash away for a "break" after five minutes of "helping" the lieutenants. The auburn-haired rookie also knew that in less than two minutes of "assisting" the rookies, Caboose had been deemed too much of a fire risk.
So, the blond and Freckles were playing "tag" in the holographic training room, as the odds of Caboose setting something on fire there were minimal at best—though people would be lying if they said it hadn't happened on more than one occasion all the same.
Simmons and Grif were who-knows-where, and evidently Sarge and Doctor Grey had gone out on a supply run that may or may not in reality be a date given their handholding as they did so. Talk about a power couple you would probably not want to cross ever.
While the idea of going on their first reclaiming mission was an exciting one, Matthews had to admit that it was more than a little nerve-wracking all the same, especially with the power situation still being what it was in Chorus.
He glanced over at his fellow lieutenants, feeling the same excitable-yet-nervous energy filtering around all of them. Andersmith was already finished with his gear pack and was now double-checking it to make sure he had gotten everything. …Well, more like triple-checking it at this point.
Carolina was demonstrating something about armor clasps to Volleyball and Kai. While they were listening intently to whatever it was the redheaded woman was saying, Matthews could swear that he saw his sister and Kai's fingertips touching slightly. He blinked, wondering if he was either just seeing things or if he needed a stronger glasses prescription.
His other sister was huddled close to Palomo as the two rookies went over what was in their gear packs together, talking to one another in low whispers. Just this once, Matthews was pleasantly surprised to see that the smile on Jensen's face was nearly a match for Palomo's.
As for Bitters…
He paused, frowning. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't really sure where Bitters had gone off to. The orange-trimmed lieutenant had finished loading his own gear pack, but then he had disappeared—probably figuring that with his pack secured there wasn't any reason to stick around longer.
Matthews sighed as he tried lifting his heavy pack towards the ground transport they were going to be using. Maybe Bitters just really didn't like being around them and…
"Hey."
He was suddenly startled from his thoughts by the former mercenary standing directly in front of him, evidently amused at having caught Matthews off-guard.
"H—hi." Matthews fidgeted nervously, face turning crimson at the unexpected interaction.
Bitters raised a dark eyebrow before pointing to the gear pack that the yellow-trimmed lieutenant had been struggling with, "You want help with that?"
Dumbly, the auburn-haired youth nodded and watched enviously as Bitters put it into the transport without any sign of struggle whatsoever.
"You know," he began conversationally, "You will have to carry that thing out on the field."
Matthews' face flushed even more at the teasing, "I—I know! I can carry it on my back. No problem!"
"Uh-huh. Sure." Bitters joked before turning to Palomo and Jensen to offer them the same assistance, much to their pleasant surprise.
By the time Bitters had come back to stand next to Matthews, the slightly younger rookie's face had cooled down a bit and his heart wasn't hammering quite so much in his chest. Instead, he was bent over a tracking device, seeing if he could get it working again.
Bitters bent down next to Matthews after observing the other young man for a few moments, "Need some more help?" he asked.
Matthews wasn't sure why he felt both relieved and grateful for Bitters' presence as he did, but he enthusiastically nodded his head all the same. The two young men smiled briefly at one another before getting to work, the interaction not going unnoticed in the room.
"Oh, oh!" Donut stage whispered excitedly so that everyone within earshot heard, not even noticing that in his earnestness he was squeezing a blushing Doc's hand tightly to get his attention, "Isn't that just the cutest thing ever?"
Doc was staring directly at the gleeful Donut, red-faced and smiling slightly himself when he nodded, "Yes, it is."
From next to them, Church glanced from the lieutenants to Doc and Donut before groaning exasperatedly and walking off to the warehouse's kitchen area: "I'm going to need a shitload more caffeine to get through this."
Richard "Dick" Simmons sighed in annoyance. He couldn't believe he had to mention this every single fucking time Grif coerced him (more like begged, really) to help him with packing his gear.
"Grif, replacing your First Aid Kit and extra ammunition with snack cakes is not how you're supposed to prepare for missions!"
Grif shot him a blank, almost pitying look then that had Simmons wanting to reach under the work table and kick him right in the shins, "Umm, it might not be how you prepare for your missions, Simmons, but it's definitely how I prepare for mine."
"How?" Simmons asked incredulously, "By making sure you're completely ill-equipped to deal with any kind of emergency that might pop up?"
"Having a full stomach is the best preparation. For anything." The chubbier man said in a voice that was clearly attempting to be sage-like.
The cyborg rolled his eyes, "Sure, because that will help if those Insurrection assholes or raiders show up."
"Even if that does happen, with so many extra people coming along this time," Grif shrugged lazily, "Including crazy ass prepared Wash and Carolina I might add, I think we'll have supplies covered."
"Grif…" The redhead began before trailing off in futility, wishing that the orange-armored soldier would take things seriously for once.
Perhaps there was something in his tone or body language just then that conveyed what he was thinking, because Grif regarded him for a moment before sighing and rolling his eyes. "Fine." He muttered apathetically, pulling the pack over and reaching for the First Aid Kit he had taken out before, "I'll make room for the 'nonessentials' too. Happy, now?"
"Better." Though Simmons had to bite down a frown as to how Grif could consider medical supplies and ammunition as 'nonessentials' for going out on a potentially dangerous mission but snack cakes were apparently a top priority, "Thank you, Grif."
They fell into silence as Grif begrudgingly rearranged the gear in his pack once more. While he did that, Simmons sorted through some of the other equipment that the tan skinned man would be taking with him out on the field.
It was their usual comfortable silence, and Simmons eased into it like he was snuggling into an old, comfy blanket. He hadn't realized how much he had missed moments like this until just now.
Grif glanced over at him a few minutes later, the look in his brown eyes indicating that he wanted to talk about something. At length, he finally did so by stating conversationally: "Cass and Andersmith have finally started dating."
That little tidbit of unexpected information caused Simmons to pause briefly, "O—oh?"
He had known that Andersmith had a crush on the bartender for a while now. Plus, Cass seemed nice enough, so he supposed that was fairly good news to hear.
"Yeah, he finally worked up the nerve to ask her out." Grif remarked, shaking his head, "If he'd waited any longer, I think she would have gotten fed up and asked him herself."
That's right. Both Grif and Kai were friends with Cass from way before Simmons had even met them. In fact…
Simmons swallowed down the sudden knot in his stomach at the memory of what he had stumbled onto a while ago, though he knew it posed a question he probably should ask given the why as to how it had occurred in the first place.
"What…what about your re—release then?" Simmons managed to squeak out awkwardly, face turning a vibrant shade of red as he did so.
Cass had been helping Grif with that when he needed it as a friend. Grif was always sure to emphasize that point whenever he brought the subject up to Simmons, so the cyborg stuck to it like a mantra in his head. So, if Cass was dating someone now, did that mean Grif would go to strangers for release then, or start actually dating himself?
Either scenario was enough to make Simmons want to bury his head in the sand or vomit. Or both. Grif was quiet for a long moment, too long of one in Simmons' opinion. The redhead glanced over at the other man, surprised to find him staring at his gear pack with a contemplative frown on his face.
"Gr—Grif?" Simmons choked out, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer to his question but becoming concerned by the sudden silence all the same.
Grif looked over at him, an unreadable expression in his dark eyes and an uncharacteristically serious look suffusing his facial features. It even seemed as if he might be…blushing? But, that couldn't possibly be right since the only fucking person in the room was Simmons.
"Yeah. About that." Grif finally began, "Simmons…"
But, whatever the genetically engineered man had been about to say was cut off a second later by Church's voice yelling from somewhere down the hallway, "We're just about finished loading up the transport. Grif, your fat ass and gear better be fucking ready!"
Both Grif and Simmons sighed, knowing they only had about ten seconds before an impatient Leonard Church came in the workroom to hound them for said gear so that they would be finally finished with all of their tasks for today. Grif's sigh turned into a groan as he stood up, not wanting to deal with a more-than-usual irate Church.
The heavyset man hoisted his pack onto his shoulders and headed towards the door, stopping to glance over at Simmons again with the same serious look on his face as before, "We'll talk about this later, all right?" he asked.
Simmons, still caught off-guard by how uncharacteristically serious Grif was being, nodded mutely. His confirmation seemed to relax Grif at least somewhat as he watched the orange-armored soldier's shoulders sag slightly in relief as the door opened…
…Only for the tan skinned man to stiffen visibly at the sight of Malcolm Hargrove on the other side of the doorway.
"Ah, hello." Hargrove stated curtly in way of greeting, "I was just stopping by to visit with Richard."
Grif paused, glancing back over at Simmons and seeming rather reluctant to leave all of a sudden when "Grif, you better be done fucking packing that shit!" could be heard from Church right around the corner of the hallway.
Grif sighed, torn about what to do but ultimately deciding not to have the cobalt-wearing cyborg track him and Simmons down. No point in making things even more awkward.
"We'll talk later, Simmons." The dark-haired man said in a voice that made his words sound like a promise before he moved past Hargrove with an equally curt nod.
Hargrove waited until Grif was out of earshot before stepping into the workroom, "You certainly have a lively group of friends, Richard." He commented wryly.
Simmons felt his face heat up slightly at the comment, unsure if it was meant as a compliment or something else.
"They—they're like family, sir." He stated earnestly, the words hitting the truth of the matter succinctly.
After all, the Reds and the Blues had been his family ever since he had lost his own so long ago.
Hargrove nodded his head in understanding, eyes going to the closed door, "Even that Grif fellow?" He asked.
"W—what?" Simmons felt what served as his heart skip a beat at this particular line of questioning, even his face plating began to heat up.
Hargrove glanced at him in mild amusement, "It's obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together that you care more for that genetically engineered young man than as either a friend or a family member."
"I—I…!" Simmons started to stutter in his panic of having been so obviously found out, though he managed to clamp down on one thing that Hargrove had said and used it to focus his thoughts and hopefully change subjects, "H—how did you know that Grif is genetically engineered?"
Hargrove shrugged as if the answer was unimportant, "I simply have experience telling them apart from normal people." He explained, though his gaze remained firmly locked on Simmons, "Though I am more curious as to just how far your relationship with him has progressed."
Damn it. So, his brilliant attempt at redirecting the conversation turned into a complete failure. Simmons supposed that was par the course for him. Truthfully? This line of questioning from his father's old friend was definitely not one that Simmons wanted to travel down anytime soon.
With his face probably now just as red as Sarge's armor, Simmons made a move to get past Hargrove. He could feel his brain working in overdrive to try to make a polite excuse as to why he couldn't stay and chat. Instead, all the redhead could think about were conversations that never seemed to go anywhere but always left a smile on his face, that one time in the shade so long ago, Grif's promise to talk later, and…
Suddenly the power flickered, and he stalled as his body went weak. The only thing that kept him from falling to the ground just then was being able to lean against the work table in the nick of time. He blinked as the lighting seemed to return to normal, his grip on the table's edge tightening even as his body still felt drained.
"Richard?" Hargrove was hovering over him in assessing concern, his line of far too personal questioning from before evidently forgotten in the wake of seeing the cyborg nearly collapse.
"I…I'm fine, sir!" Simmons managed to get out through gritted teeth.
"Doubtful." The older man's tone took on an authoritative note as he asked, "It's the power outages, isn't it?"
Simmons nodded, "I've been…hesitant to tell my friends just how much of an issue they've been."
Just as hesitant as he knew Church and the others affected by the power outages were too.
"That's understandable." Hargrove muttered.
When the pale skinned man saw an almost remorseful look cross over the chairman's weathered features, Simmons was quick to add, "B—but things have been getting better since the repairs have started!"
It was true, really. Though they still happened from time-to-time, the power outages' frequencies and durations were less than before.
"That's good to know." Hargrove patted the redhead's shoulder reassuringly, "We're doing everything in our power to put a stop to them once and for all. We'll get there, Richard."
Simmons couldn't help but smile, grateful for the man's kindness and the change of conversation too. He hoped that what Hargrove said would prove true sooner rather than later.
Author's Notes: Geez, Hargrove is a pretty good actor, huh? XD Things are going to start picking up in the next chapter, so I hope that you're looking forward to it!
Also, in-between updates to this fic, Remnants, and Shiny Things I'm going to probably be posting some prequel stories for this story-verse soon too. I'll be starting with a Simmons one. Hopefully, they will be enjoyable reads and help to flesh out this AU even more!
As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read this! :D