tosbox | making my way downtown

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making my way downtown

[The big issue here isn't getting fired. No, Spy will be fine for now, considering all that he's saved. Losing a resource as powerful as RED and Mann Co in general is a blow indeed, but Spy can get by. Right now, he's more concerned about living and making sure none of his loose ends catch up to him.

Most of the things he's taking back with him are either essential or expensive. The weapon magazines and catalogues sent by RED are still sitting in his old quarters, along with some leisure books and even some pieces of his old uniform. The suit has always been a part of his look, so he keeps some of it; they make for some decent padding for the wine stored in the trunk of his car.

With his tie slung around his neck and his jacket over his arm, Spy makes a mental checklist of all he needs. His life is pretty much stowed away in his wallet: bank cards, multiple IDs, cash, miniature cloaking device, plane tickets... He pats his pants pocket for the only thing that doesn't fit in his wallet: his passport. Not that he'll need it for the flight, but it's good to have these things just in case.

A tiny part of his brain nags at him, urging him to feel sentimental about leaving his workplace of over four years. But to hell with that - god knows this won't be the last he's seen of them.

When Scout hobbles up to his car, a mess of stupidity and arm casts, Spy is tempted to slam the door in his face and make him eat his dust trail. But, of course, the little mongrel has to pull the mother card and all of a sudden Spy feels responsible.]

I have a jet leaving in fifty minutes. You've got twenty. Get in the car.

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[Enjoy the smell of cigarettes, Scout. Though since Spy is just constantly covered in the odor of smoke, Scout should be used to it by now.]

A more discreet mode of action would be preferable. I suppose we should avoid killing t'e guards as much as possible. T'ough a weapon would also be useful...

[They've been serving them food on paper plates since the last incident, along with an extra helping of drugs.]

If we could trick t'em all to gat'er at t'e same place at once, it would be easier to sneak past. If I 'ad paper and time, I could try to lure t'em all to one spot wit' t'e promise of-- food, per'aps. Beer. Typical American fare. But, as usual, t'e biggest problem is leaving t'is room.

[ ~~Maybe he's rolling some clean smell on it, jeez.~~ It's about the principle of the thing. ]

Whattabout a bomb? If we can get ahold of some cleaning products we can make mustard gas or a bleach bomb.

[ Scout, you're going to get everyone killed. ]

And use it where? On t'e guards? On t'e door? T'e entire building?

[For about a second, he ponders about what it is his teammate is doing up there. But no matter. He waves the thought away like smoke circling his head.]

I'm afraid t'e science of explosives is not one of my many skills. Unless you can name t'e right ingredients necessary for such a weapon.

[ Just laying there, although he rolls over to peer down at Spy. ]

Well I ain't no demo, but we used to mess around all da time wid dat kinda stuff when I was a kid.

[ Which he pretty much still was. ]

All you need for da bleach bomb's bleach 'n foil, 'cept I dunno where we get the foil from. Hell, you got matches, we could just light it and throw it. I mean, dat's a great distraction.

You ain't never made anything like that when you was young?

T'ere ought to be some in a supply closet, per'aps down in t'e mess. I'll keep an eye out when I go around later. It is far from a discreet distraction, but not a terrible idea.

[He stretches out, puts his feet up against the bed frame.]

No, I would never use any of my mot'er's cleaning supplies like t'at.

Then what'd you do fer fun?

[ Inconceivable. ]

[Spy sighs, the end of the exhale curling with a groan.]

Adolescence... Was not a fun time for me.

[ A grunt. ]

Maybe you shoulda considered blowin' some shit up, den.

[ Point proven. He rolls over, slipping off Spy's bed and swinging onto his, and consequently Spy, landing in a sit on the man's stomach if he doesn't move quick enough. ]

I've always treasured subtlety over--

[Scout's movement does prompt Spy to look up, but seeing as he's comfortably seated, it doesn't occur to him to try to dodge anything. He immediately regrets it, now burdened with his teammate's weight.]

Dieu, Scout, you could 'ave at least provided me wit' a warning--

Edited 2014-11-28 05:38 (UTC)

What fun would thata been?

[ Scout grins, reaching to try flicking the end of Spy's nose before he scoots off to the rest of the mattress. Truth be told he was kind of expecting a punch or for the other man to try throwing him off, but he's pleasantly surprised. ]

Get offa my bunk.

[Spy anticipates the flick and swats at Scout's hand. Sure, he doesn't like having his personal space invaded, but he's not going to brawl over it. Not in this confined space.]

Or else what?

[He thought Scout preferred the top bunk, but Spy doesn't want to give him any ideas. Instead, he'll just be annoying, maybe give Scout some of his own medicine.]

[ Growing up with seven other boys has made Scout pretty blasé about just body slamming another guy or otherwise treating them like punchable sources of amusement. If you think about family drives, one can also understand why he's not too bad with close-quartered skirmishes. And it's probably why he's not immediately grossed out by Spy being so close.

He arches a brow at Spy, leaning back against the wall. He prods one of the other man's gangly legs with a heel.]

Whassamatta old man, arthritis flarin' up?

[ Oof, poor choice of words. His nose wrinkles slightly. ]

You wan' cuddle? Dat it?

Is t'at an offer? I told you, it is definitely not unusual to fall for t'e likes of me.

[You've opened up way too many opportunities to make passes at you, Scout. For fear of getting his nose broken, Spy doesn't lean in too close, but he does put a hand between their bodies, leaning his weight onto it.]

[ Scout tenses up, the muscles in his arms beginning to coil in preparation for a strike, but at this point he knows Spy's expecting it.

You ever get so curious, though, you think of saying something dumb just to see what someone's next move would be? No? ]

Sure, Spy.

[ A smirk. ]

[Yeah, Spy would be prepared to dodge if Scout went for it. But that response throws him off guard, lifting an eyebrow into his balaclava.

But that's a challenge if he ever heard of one. It would be pretty damn unsportsmanlike to get hit in the face now, but Spy is also aware Scout is far from a gentleman, so he remains cautious.

He crawls closer, planting a hand on the mattress on either side of Scout's body. They should be close enough to breathe each other's air.]

'Ow gracious of you. Sometimes t'is body of mine could use a little warming up.

[ His smirk lessens as Spy closes in, some shark in wooly headgear. He sets his head back against the wall, keeping most of the other man's face in his vision. Shit.

He lifts a hand, pressing it to Spy's chest, pushing him just enough to be able to slide down under him, further onto the bed. His legs hang over the side of the bed, knees flexing against it to help pull him down further and in case he needs to sit back up quickly. ]

Yeah, probably cuz you got ice water in yer veins. Like-a snake.

What a poetic comparison. Shall I congratulate you?

[It's awkward. Spy knows Scout isn't one hundred percent into the idea of cuddling - hell, even Spy meant it as a joke - but for some reason, his teammate agreed. Probably to throw him off. But if they're going to play this game, Spy will play well, dammit.

Easing onto his side, Spy relaxes his arm so that it's slung over Scout's stomach.]

Cyeah, if you can do it without spon-tanu-ously combustin'.

[ Yeah.... yeah, this is weird. Scout lays there with one hand flung behind his head and the other resting over his abdomen. Lying back and thinking of Boston. He doesn't know what he's trying to prove, maybe that Spy's not so good that it can't be awkward, but he's going to stay there for at least another five minutes or so, assuming things don't escalate.

At least fresh from the shower, the smell of smoke isn't overpowering. ]

I'm afraid I'm 'ighly flammable, so I do not t'ink it would be wort' t'e risk. My sincerest apologies.

[With his face now so close to the crook of Scout's neck, he really can feel his teammate's body heat. It's true his extremeties get cold; it's a side effect of smoking. So maybe he's relaxing a little, his body soaking up the warmth, however strange its source may be. In any case, he won't be the first to crack. ]

[ Scout chuckles a little darkly at that. If there was one thing that freak Pyro was good for, it was a good Spy fry.

The breath against his neck is a little weird, but as long as it doesn't get too moist, he thinks he can handle it. He's pretty surprised when it seems like Spy actually relaxes a little. Just to keep him on his toes, he moves to slip an arm under him, rolling the older man a little more onto his chest. The amount of activity Scout likes to do ( dancing around and singing today ) combined with the earlier shower makes him warm indeed. ]

What about if we go through tha vents?

[A short breath of surprise puffs out of Spy's mouth as his head is pushed onto Scout's shoulder. His arm and stomach tense, but once it's clear Scout isn't planning to inflict bodily harm upon him, he relaxes again.]

It's risky. We do not know where t'ey lead. In addition to t'at, we must consider t'e noise it would make to walk t'rough t'em. It is not a bad idea, considering I doubt security would assume it is anyt'ing beyond vermin. It might be wort' a try if I can figure out t'e networking of it.

[Is he getting sleepy? In any case, his voice is softer now, his words rumbling against Scout's chest.]

[ Spy relaxes, and as much as he's weirded out, he's also a little amused he can have that effect on someone who's the first to call him a idiotic brat. If he pretends like Spy's a nice, pretty girl, stroking his back is easy, like playing with the ends of long hair. ]

Yeah that's how they did it in da Great Escape. You ever seen dat one, Steve McQueen? Well, dey used tunnels, but same difference.

T'is is far from t'e movies, Scout. If t'is were a cinematic film, we would 'ave escaped by now.

[Okay, the back stroking is weird. Spy bristles at first, a short shiver going down his spine, though he makes no move to separate. It is a little nice, but it definitely wakes him up, his body more keenly aware of his teammate's, all warmth and solidity and confusion. He glances up at his teammate.]

Scout, why did you agree to t'is?

Edited 2014-11-28 08:03 (UTC)

[ Scout's eyes glint with a hint of triumph. ]

Why? You startin' to regret it?

[Right, this is a game, this is a game and Spy is determined to win--]

No. Of course not. T'ese snake veins of mine are quite toasty right now.

[At least that part is actually true. In fact, just to prove his point, he shifts closer so that his legs are pressed lightly against Scout's.]

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