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renaroo · 7 years

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Double Time (1/24)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence Pairings: Tuckington, Chex Rating: T Synopsis: [Hero Time Sequel] After the events of Hero Time, the city and Blood Gulch are prepared for the true return of superheroes in a big way. But while Washington is attempting to adjust to a new relationship and a new living arrangement, the call of new heroes and a new mayor mean major changes for his professional life as well as his personal one. How will the balance of values fare when his new partners come to test everything he’s made of.

A/N: We are finally, finally back to this AU that has been the start of just so much in my fandom experience here with RvB. I adore this AU and while I needed the short break it’s fantastic to be back in the swing of things and getting back to the part of the story that captured so many people’s hearts to begin with: the relationship between our hero and our civilian. Hopefully everyone’s as ready for some high octane hero romance as I am!

I want to once again thank my collaborator and the just all around awesome artist @ashleystlawrence who helped inspire this AU as well as has provided just amazing artwork and costume designs throughout the installments. And also to @goodluckdetective for being a huge inspiration for this AU as well. This series is a labor of love dedicated to the inspiration of the two of them.

Startlingly Routine

Cities were never really quiet, and in that way, a hero who worked in a city was never really done.

Washington wondered, somewhat idly, if that was the reason behind never exactly hearing about superheroes in the more sprawling wilds of rural country land, but he also supposed that a simple counterpoint was that heroes didn’t look nearly as cool prowling on tree limbs as they did on rooftops.

Clearly.

He looked to the police scanner that Church had built him at the behest of Tucker and tuned into the several frequencies. Really, it was any wonder he was able to patrol without the little device on his wrist formerly -- it made finding trouble and being able to assist that much easier.

And it had only been a few months since the entirety of the Blood Gulch Crew had entered into his never-completely-simple life.

“Still nothing?” he asked the air around him, aggravation clear in his sigh. “Though, I suppose that’s better than something. By someone’s book.”

As a professional superhero, Wash knew that not every patrol was met with intrigue, but he was far from ready to call it a night either.

Not until he checked in on his... work in progress.

With an aggravated sigh, the catlike superhero began to change his patrol path and race instead toward the mechanic’s shop where his second longest rehabilitation attempt was stationed.

The Red Dead Blood Gulch Gang had long been operating out of Lopez’s garage -- their mechanic the ever befuddled and seemingly unhappy member given the unfortunate codename Brown. It was the kind of information which Wash would have given an arm and a leg to know when he was hunting down their crime patterns as the newly returned superhero Washington.

Instead he gave them practically every other part of their body when he bounced off their hood and windshield.

For being a former criminal organization, even if did fancy itself to be more akin to Robin Hood than straight up debauchery, the Reds were not a particularly intimidating bunch to drop in on.

Stealthily as he might have been, Washington couldn’t help but think that former criminals sitting around a mechanic’s garage and drinking beer while the reminisced should have been at least a little aware of his presence. Then again, he was obviously giving the Reds far, far too much credit on nearly every account.

“What’s got Lopez all pinched up and pissed off?” Grif asked, throwing a used can toward the garbage and missing, earning an annoyed look from Simmons.

“I think that’s just his face, guys!” Donut stage whispered to them, using his arm that was still in a brace. Wash tried to take some solace in the fact that it was no longer a cast (there was little to be had).

“He’s turning blue on us, just wait!” Sarge howled. “He’s all in a pissy mood and whatnot because we scheduled this meeting for the Gang on one of his precious date nights with our newest getaway driver.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, old man, I’m still your driver!” Grif snapped.

“Probably until you actually start driving again,” Simmons said with a roll of his eye.

“Even so, Sheila hasn’t agreed to be the getaway driver,” Grif argued.

“Oh, she will be! Her time will come, and she will see what her true calling has been all along,” Sarge chuckled.

Lopez sat in the back corner, arms crossed angrily over his chest as he released a long, aggravated sigh but otherwise didn’t even contribute to the conversation.

“Believe me, Sarge, getaway driver is not a calling anyone feels happy to answer to,” Grif huffed.

Having heard more than enough, Washington stepped more fully into the garage and partially into the light, tilting his head. “Strictly speaking, if you’re not doing things illegally anymore, you wouldn’t be a getaway driver at all. Just a driver.”

Nearly all at once, the Reds jumped up in surprise, causing more spilled beer cans than Sarge would have ever allowed in his poker basement. A fact that it pained Wash to know after the time he was drug down there by Tucker for a way to ‘relax with the guys.’

“Wow! Wash! Don’t jump out of the shadows like that!” Donut cried out. “Makes people think you’re about to shake them down for information they don’t have or something!”

Incapable of escaping the flinch that caused him to make, Wash merely sighed. “I’ll make note of that for the future, Donut,” he offered before looking more specifically to Sarge. “But I did promise to make more casual drop ins to see how you guys were doing with keeping the neighborhoods safe instead of taking on the system. In… utterly counter productive ways.”

“Yeah, well, at least painting stoplights and getting back at dumb bakeries was fun,” Grif huffed. “People barely thank you when you work on improving the community. Stupid community. What the fuck has it ever done for us? Nothing. That’s why we became a badass gang to begin with.”

“So eloquent, Grif, no wonder you’ve not been moved up to leader of a mission yet,” Simmons scoffed.

“I know it’s a… difficult adjustment to make,” Wash offered. “But for what it’s worth—“

“Not a hell of a lot, son,” Sarge harrumphed.

“But for what it’s worth,” Wash pressed on, “I think together we’re actually doing something to improve Blood Gulch. I’ve been on the police scanner all night and I’ve not heard anything. That’s the second time this week we’ve had a quiet night.”

“Second time this week you and Tex have had a quiet night,” Simmons corrected.

“Yeah, you’ve still not had us helping out with the actual crime fighting stuff,” Donut whined. “When’s that going to get started? I’d love to start on that stuff! I mean, planting a new community garden and cleaning up the park are great—“

“No they’re not,” Grif retorted.

“But we thought recovering from former villainy would involve more hero-type stuff,” Donut explained with a wide smile.

Wash put his hands on his hips and forced a smile. “I’m afraid I can’t really force crime to happen. And if I could, I wouldn’t. It’s good for our city to have a downtick in dangerous activity. But as soon as we start having emergencies again, when heroes are needed, I’ll know when to call you… So long as your community service hours are being kept up on.” He squinted at them. “They are being kept up, aren’t they?”

The Reds all glanced to each other then back to Washington.

“Oh, yeaaaaah, sure, Wash! We’re right on those!” Donut called out in what was bound to be his least believable voice.

“No,” Lopez voiced.

“See! Even Lopez agrees about how well we’ve been doing!” Sarge chuckled.

Washington scowled. “No is still no even in Spanish. I understood him perfectly.”

“We’re fine, stop moaning and groaning about the number of hours we have left to our community service,” Grif huffed. “You’re literally the only person who cares.”

“Technically the law cares,” Wash reminded them.

“And we’re only a few hours behind our projected capita, Sir,” Simmons bit out nervously. “We’re good on them, promise!”

Wash sighed. “I know going straight is hard—“

“I’ve never even tried it!” Donut rang in almost instantly.

“Yeah, like you’d know the first thing about going straight,” Grif laughed at Wash’s face.

“You know what?” Washington sighed. “I’m just going to go home. Don’t forget to clock in your community service hours this week. I’m serious. It’s important that you do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Mister Fancy Pants in a new costume. All blue and disgusting — you should be ashamed of yourself,” Sarge grumbled.

“I’m far from it,” Wash said, heading out of the garage. “Seriously, keep up doing the good work and I wouldn’t have to pay you surprise visits.”

There was some garbled resentment, but Wash was far from caring about it.

With the Reds taken care of for the night, he was on his literal last stop of the night, and couldn’t be happier to finally get there.

Home was still a seemingly normal flat overtop a seemingly normal (because it was) laundromat. But behind such normal doors was security, protection, and — newly added — people waiting for him on the other side of it all.

Coming in through his bedroom window, Wash was at least a little disappointed that his room was empty. He never liked it when he kept people waiting, but living with said people had really made that gut reaction turn up to eleven.

Quickly dispensing with his patrol uniform, Wash changed into some boxers and a tee for comfort before going to the door and hoping that he was only keeping one person waiting instead of two.

In the main room, Tucker was preoccupied with a laptop and wearing pajama pants but not much else. Which, considering his usual bedroom attire, was a bonus, Wash supposed.

There was no Junior which meant the little quasi-alien was in bed and not waiting for the superhero role model to return home safely and give adventurous tales he could draw out and further cover the fridge with.

Standing in the doorway for a moment, Wash leaned against the frame and just looked at the sight set out before him. At his life — so different and new from what he had known just months before. And all because he had, by complete happenstance, ran into Tucker. Tucker and Junior and every remotely wild and obtuse friend and family that came along with them. From Reds to former evil geniuses to old not-so-dead fellow Freelancers, and landlords that Wash was more than happy to never deal with again.

It was all because of Tucker, and Wash’s heart swelled in his chest at the very thought of him.

That was, until Tucker happened to glance up from his laptop, get spooked and scream, and react by throwing a television remote Wash’s way.

Surprised, Wash moved out of the way and let the remote to the new television crash against the wall behind him and shatter. “Tucker! What the hell—“

“Wash!? What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you have to sneak up so quietly everywhere you go!?” Tucker cried out, bewildered. “If you were a cat I’d put a bell on you.”

Wash looked through the darkness at his partner and raised a brow. “Hilarious.”

“It’s not hilarious, it’s a valid threat,” Tucker said, sitting up on his knees and leaning over the back of the couch. “Any trouble tonight?”

Wash walked toward the couch. “Unfortunately no.”

“Unfortunately?” Tucker mocked. “I’ll never understand superheroes, I swear.”

“Unfortunately in that there won’t be a whole lot to tell Junior when he forces us both awake for breakfast in a few hours,” Wash said, leaning against the back of the couch, just inches from Tucker. “And for someone who will never understand superheroes, you’ve done a fairly decent job of getting together quite the crew of superhero tropes to surround yourself with over the years.”

Tucker shrugged passively, a smirk on his lips. “Eh, I’ve got my own power of magnetic personality. I just draw them all in.”

Tilting his head, Wash couldn’t help the fond smile across his face. “You certainly do,” he said. “I just hope it makes you happy.”

“What does?” Tucker asked blissfully, shutting his laptop.

“Being surrounded by bigger than life issues, living here with me, being friends with almost-nearly-convicts, pretending I didn’t see that it was porn on your screen before you shut your laptop,” Wash listed off almost wistfully.

“Make me happy?” Tucker laughed. “Wash, it’s like the definition of what makes me happy right now. I’m staying up late not because I had to pick up extra late night hours at the diner to cover the appliances. I’m staying up late watching porn in a living room I share with my superhero boyfriend who has a bankroll due to the kinda sketchy government coverup stuff that people on Blood Gulch couldn’t even dream up.” He then raised a brow of his own. “You ever going to tell me the full story of that someday?”

“I’m sure I will,” Wash said. “Just not tonight. Not when I can spend that time sleeping next to you in bed instead.”

Tucker waggled his eyebrow, as to be expected. “That all?”

“Well, I did have a slow night,” Wash lamented before leaning in and meeting Tucker for the kiss the man had been very obviously moving in for the entire conversation.

His life was becoming startlingly routine, but Washington had learned to very much love that.

And he truly did. It was the thing in the world he loved third most of all — right after Tucker and Junior.

At the back of his mind, though, Wash knew to be anxious, even if he wouldn’t dare show it to his partner. Because for a hero, slipping into routines, having things one loved most of all in the world, always seemed to have a price to be paid.

Sooner or later.

#writing #rvb fic #RvB: Hero Time #RvB: Double Time #Tuckington #Agent Washington #Lavernius Tucker #Dexter Grif #Dick Simmons #Franklin Delano Donut #AI: Lopez the Heavy #Colonel Sarge

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