Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

ᴀʀᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇʟ (calibrations) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-12-20 08:05:00

Who: Wisdom & Vakarian - little Amelia too, and Lina at the end
What: The mistletoe strikes again while the dudes discuss a mission
When: Today
Where: Firestarter Home
Rating/Warnings: Language, hilarity
Status: Complete!


There were a few things Garrus would willingly go out in the snow for - and it’s not like he couldn’t operate a damn vehicle in it (he was born and raised in Chicago, of course he knew), but turians were more physiologically climatized to tropical temperatures and the chill brought a subtle ache to his bones. It wasn’t anything crippling; more like a minor annoyance that could be brushed off or grumbled about, and he guessed if he wanted to fully enjoy the duration of when his insides were, for once, compatible with human sustenance again, he’d have to actively endure the winter wonderland that yearly blessed this vortex of hell.

A certain Twilight Princess’ enchantment on his watch allowed him to dress properly human for the blending in of society. It was used outdoors, often deactivated indoors for that ‘all natural’ feeling, but for the sake of visiting his mutant friend and making sure that if he was actually around the eventual-mutant spawn so he wouldn’t scare her, the human skin it was. Charcoal slacks with a belt, a buttoned shirt, and a collared leather jacket.

The promises of candy (that sounded wrong) was what lured him to the Wisdom home initially - Cindy would be pleased to have her husband come home with rare sweets - but there was the hint of something work-related too, perhaps, with the briefcase he’d brought with him.

There were a couple knocks on the door but the first household occupant to greet him was probably the obese calico, watching the newcomer from the window and meowling so much Garrus could have sworn it was code for I will claim your balls as mine, peon.

Damn cat.

Amazing that Guess even managed to jump up onto the windowsill given her status as one fucking fat cat, but Wisdom had sort of given up on understanding her. Or cats in general, really. Guess was Lina’s cat, so that meant he didn’t donate the feline to the nearest Taco Bell - and they got along, mostly. Occasionally the obese cat would fall asleep in Pete’s lap, much to his chagrin, but he never pushed her off. Maybe he didn’t mind too much.

Amelia hadn’t started crawling yet, but he could tell she was really trying to get there. She was well into rolling her way around, slithering on her stomach, scooting. And she was quicker at that than he thought, so he imagined any day she’d be zooming along at a crawl - they’d prepared, the house was baby-proofed. Teething was also the latest debacle, something white and pearly beginning to poke through on her bottom gums. It hurt the poor sprog, but Romany had gotten her Sophie the Giraffe which was a French teething toy that worked wonders. The baby was coating it with a layer of drool right now, the giraffe clasped in her chubby fist while she rolled about on her playpad, on the living room floor.

The house was also a mess with boxes and bags of candy everywhere, and he had to make sure Amelia didn’t put any of these choking hazards into her mouth, so that was quite fun.

“Who’s that, button nose?” Pete asked his daughter, at the sound of the knock which caught her attention. “We’ll go find out.” Balancing the baby on his hip, he went to answer the door. “Oh, look, we’ve got our favourite cat-lover here.”

Baaaaaah, said Amelia, drooling and grinning.

Garrus would have usually returned the greet with a grin, and instead Wisdom had yielded the reaction of an exasperated eyeroll. Didn’t exactly help that the calico hopped onto four paws, trotted over, and already started rubbing her face (and fur) along his ankles while she vibrated with thunderous purrs.

He’d been alright with Bigby. Bigby didn’t aim for the nuts. This one did, and he’d make sure to block this damn thing’s attempts at kneading on his turian jewels.

“Came here to confiscate some of your illegally imported items, sir,” Vakarian smirked, stepping inside. Funny how well he recalled the bachelor townhouse Pete had once had, and now he occupied an actual house with noisy colorful toys littering the floors. Ah, the days of busting into back rooms of clubs for intel and interrupting a line of cocaine getting snorted from a hooker’s ass. Not necessarily long gone, but often avoided because of domestic duties. “Cute baby. Too cute to be yours, so I’m sure there’s going to be some kidnapping charges involved.”

Spirits, the drool on that one - he had to greet the little one with shake, even if it meant his fingers would also be doused in her spit.

Vakarian just gave off the presence of cat lover, it was inevitable. Or perhaps the thing was just trolling him, which was what Wisdom was inclined to think (and support, if he were being honest). “She’s teething a little,” he explained, referring to Amelia and her drool - and how she was gnawing on that bloody giraffe. “But Sophie works well, not sure why.” It was just a rubber teether at first glance, but also expensive because the rubber was actually derived from the sap of the Hevea tree - wherever the fuck that was. Romany knew the whole story.

“Anyway, come in, make yourself at home,” Pete, expertly balancing Amelia on his side, leaned down and cleared off a pile or two of laundry from the sofa. “I’ll get you a drink and some candy which isn’t technically illegally imported - “ Or was it? Oh well, as if he gave a shit. Next year, Starbucks coffee ought to watch itself. “What would you like?” he asked.

Teething, right, he recalled Pete mentioning that - the motions of parenting were (obviously) a little foreign for him, but he was content in living vicariously through him and Neal. His experience with babies had increased monumentally just by being around the two new fathers, so maybe he wouldn’t go in too blindly whenever he and Cindy decided to take that medical plunge of insemination.

What? It’s not like someone could get magically pregnant with incompatible DNA, anyway.

“Anything you’ve got, I can afford to not be picky this time of year,” he chuckled and carefully maneuvered around the house so he wouldn’t accidentally crush one of Amelia’s toys. Garrus wasn’t a monster. “But she’s getting big. Or, well, she’s definitely growing - still on the tiny side but it’s pretty adorable.”

A trait from the missus, he assumed. Amelia seemed to take after her father more but at least there was something she shared with the one responsible for pushing her out - aside from the blackhole stomach that seemed to be presenting itself. Food costs would probably spike out of orbit once she started eating solids.

He set his briefcase on the coffee table but then, uh, figured he should offer to do something with his hands and not be a dick houseguest. “I can hold her if you want?”

“Don’t worry, I was going to give her to you regardless - you need the practise,” Pete smiled crookedly and, indeed, he handed Amelia over to Garrus by plopping the wee sprog into his lap. She was definitely a tiny thing, small-boned no doubt (like her mum), but the colouring seemed to favour Wisdom - dark fuzz for hair, eyes that still stayed blue. The nose too, don’t forget that. She didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she reached for Garrus’ face and wanted to inspect that nose of his.

Meanwhile, Mr. Wisdom poured the drinks - a really good bourbon, served neat with brilliant amber colour and flame-orange tint, since today was a special occasion. With it, he brought in a box of posh (read: expensive), creamy chocolate truffles ‘imported’ from England. It would be a good marriage, bourbon and these particular candies.

“You can take those home with you,” he motioned to the box. “Along with any other kind, not like we’ve got a shortage here. But things are good, this time of year? You haven’t eaten yourself into a coma yet, I see.”

Sorry for the delayed response, Wisdom, he was trying to wrestle the baby’s sloppy fingers from going up his nose. Amelia seemed so damn happy, regardless of the horror tales teething was often accompanied with - but he guessed he’d prefer to entertain a cheery kid and not one wailing at the top of their lungs.

There, Sophie back between those gummy chompers. A successful distraction. “Thanks for those. I’ll make sure to have a couple before Cindy stakes claim,” he said, taking the glass of human bourbon - it was nostalgia in his mouth. “But no comas yet, maybe some heartburn?” American food, at its finest. “I’ve actually come with a favor to ask, something saved for a little later as to not interrupt any of this one’s ‘first Christmas’ festivities.’”

He and Cindy were busy as it were anyway - Solana coming their way to visit them, and he was toying with the idea of breaking the alien thing to her. Mostly because out of anyone in his family, she’d be the one able to take it.

But, continuing on topic, for him to actually go through his briefcase the littlest Wisdom had to be relocated back into her father’s lap. It was almost like playing hot potato with a baby?

Pete got a couple of sips of his bourbon in, letting the rich liquid slide down his throat, but then he set the glass down to take back his adorable little crotchling. Amelia flailed in his lap, waving a drooled-on Sophie to and fro, babbling to herself as she did. At least she wasn’t screaming because of the pain, but as long as she was gnawing on something (and preferably something cold) then so far it was tolerable.

“A favour? Sure thing, mate, what do you need?” he wanted to know. “We can wait until it goes back to mostly normal around here.” Because it was never truly 100% normal, not in Orange County. Not that Wisdom even remembered what normal was.

“Got some people of interest to visit,” Garrus began, a datapad in hand - it had a platinum bottom to grasp, barely detectable clear-cut glass for a screen, and its functions were very holographic. Interactive, high-tech, the sort of technology that was way ahead of their current time but it was a perk of salvaging certain items from the Citadel. “Nothing alien like, I promise, it’s just -”

He drew in a deep breath, brows furrowed, and he slid his finger past data that was lit orange. Decrypted documents of texts, pictures of various people. It was practically a case file. “Years ago when I was a cop, there was some organ trafficking going on in Chicago, in high numbers. Bodies coming up, important parts missing, mainly from the homeless - none of them ever had a person to report them missing or someone to care. Perfect victims.”

Alright, it was a bit of a gruesome topic to discuss in the presence of a little human but she didn’t have the comprehension skills to really process this entire conversation. Garrus took another swallow of bourbon before elaborating further. “There was someone blamed kills but it wasn’t the actual guy, not a chance, none of it fit - forensics showed careful medical incisions so the perp was a professional, not a messy serial killer. Anyway, long story short, got banned from investigating further but when I went rogue I managed to trace down the same patterns, and unsurprisingly confirmed my gut instinct that he was some kind of doctor. Trail went cold again, then I came here. Fastforward to now, with some similar cases popping up in the area.”

Which meant there was some further digging he had to do, personally. Wisdom was always a good candidate to gather intel with. It was with him he’d found out a high percentage of the criminal underworld put aside their differences to bring him and everyone he ever loved down.

“Similar cases,” Wisdom repeated, lifting an eyebrow. He scooted Amelia back against his chest, letting her settle there on his lap, while he reached over to take a look at the datapad. Because he wanted to see the details of this rather gruesome black market organ business, and also because he was intrigued by the sheer technology of what looked like the iPad, a version two-hundred years in the future. “We can look into them, see what the commonalities are, get the details needed to shut them down?”

He assumed Vakarian wanted to be the one to go in, but Pete would just check to be sure. Either way, he’d help gather intel and find the info the former fellow bounty hunter needed to shut this operation down. “Seems to be a long time coming, eh?”

Amelia made a noise that was a contribution to the conversation, her small hand trying to flatten on the screen of the datapad. Which Pete put a stop to right away. Sorry, pumpkin.

While Wisdom went through the data, the turian-in-disguise got the chance to undo the packaging of sweets - he’d gobble it up until his stomach ached from the overdose of sugar, mostly because dextro-amino sweets weren’t as diverse. “Exactly,” he answered, clear blue eyes cutting to the mutant father. “I’ve got Cin looking at this case too, she’ll be my main partner going in for the kill.”

There was no turning this fucker in; he knew this was some kind of parallel ‘echo’ of dreams with what happened to with Saelon during his days on the Citadel C-Sec, but in true spirit he was also a difficult fucker to track. “It’s been awhile, other things caught my attention and time passed - but I don’t forget a target, Pete. I’ve got more advanced tech to cross reference similar cases to be extra sure, so I know where he’s been and what he’s done. I’m trying to keep the restrictive FBI tape out of it.”

Difficult, but he’d make it work. He also had a fairly in-depth knowledge of hacking (necessary, since it involved accessing classified police department documents) thanks to the dreams - he and Tali, they were the more technically inclined of the crew, but taught each other many things. It’d come in handy.

Not like Pete was particularly disturbed about Garrus going in for the kill - they both had their fair share of murders under their belts, hands stained with blood, but they never took out anyone who didn’t deserve it. Sometimes, people just did deserve it - and it was the only way - no matter what some righteous, big-hearted naive fools would think.

“He probably thought he got away with it, but now’s his time,” Wisdom said, getting up with Amelia in tow to find another box of sweets for the temporary human, since he was polishing off those truffles nicely. Jelly babies, candies that literally did look like ‘little people’ with smiley faces, and tasted like jam covered in icing sugar were brought back. Something fruity to balance out the chocolate. “I’ll get on it right away, then. Keeping the FBI out of it is also wise.” Likely it’d be easy enough for Vakarian to do, since he worked with them.

Government work wasn’t something he’d ever saw himself doing; all the tape, the regulations, checks and balances that were never used properly. Garrus worked best outside the constraint of laws, it was true for both versions of him, but he settled for it due to the circumstances surrounding this life - all because of where he lived, and wanting to protect it from those who might see this as a nest full of experimentations.

“New I could count on you,” he grinned, crookedly, and plucked one of the newest additions of candy from the pile - that something fruity to balance out the chocolate, of course. “It’s been awhile since I’ve stretched those reconnaissance muscles, it’ll make sure we don’t end up with something like a beer belly.”

Guess made sounds from the outskirts of the room, a meow that had a little growl, almost like she was on the hunt. It was alarming enough to twist his head to her general direction, and he witnessed the ball of fur and chub swat at something - floating?? “Is this some kind of magical flying catnip for the cat?”

Pete stole a few of those jelly babies too, popping them into his mouth. Ah, a good reconnaissance mission - it had been awhile since he’d been on one of those, since working in black ops at the Agency meant that it was periods of slow in between the usual weirdness inflicted on the county. Something outside that jurisdiction would be rather refreshing.

“Fuck the beer bell - “ Oh, alright, Guess was deciding to be a shit. Big surprise. But what was she batting at?

Wisdom called for her, to get her attention mostly, but then he was distracted by the floating green mistletoe coming closer and closer. Mistletoe, that’s what it was. Compelling him to kiss the only other adult in the room.

Which he did. After he put Amelia down, of course (because it would be weird to be holding a baby and making out). Then went in for a holiday snog.

Well, for a split second the entire interaction made sense. Why wouldn’t Garrus want to get a tongue full of fiery mutant down his throat? It also made pure, complete sense for it all to be returned with a literal sweep into Pete’s mouth until -

“What the fuck,” came his choke, after the mistletoe had passed through over their heads and that weird desire of ‘swap spit with Wisdom because it’s hot’ dissipated. All that was left was confusion, shame, and the need to gargle with the leftover bourbon in his glass because what just happened.

As if that wasn’t fucking awful enough the door knob jiggled with the insertion of a key, and it opened allowing the chill and sunlight to come through along with the redhead carrying an abundance of bags. Christmas shopping, all that horseshit. “Heyyy, so there was this huge sale for baby shoes over at that Shoe-Orgasm and…”

Out the door, past her eyes, went the mistletoe - bye bye.

Lina blinked. “Oh.”

This really was not his day, was it? Amelia was giggling, cooing from her spot on her playpad, and Wisdom was busy literally wiping his tongue off with a napkin and then stuffing more candy in his mouth to rid him of the taste. Admittedly, it was mostly an attempt to scrub the entire experience from his brain, because all Vakarian tasted of was bourbon and sweets.

“I hate this place,” he grumbled, looking all chipmunk-cheeked because of the mouthful of sugar. “Bloody fucking green fucking revolting rude mistletoe. We’re moving to a remote island somewhere, someplace where the OC’s fuckery can’t make me gay for even two seconds anymore.”

Baaaaaaaah, said Amelia. Her father would take that as agreement.

Garrus was on the same goddamn boat and was about to text Cindy any minute too because what? That had to be some kind of sexual assault violation, mindrape, mistletoe indoctrination that made it seem like making out with a sex you had no interest in seem like a good idea.

Finally, the bourbon was swallowed and he let out a breath that sounded like a dry-heave. “I need more of this,” he wheezed.

Aw. Bags dropped to the ground, Lina came in and swooped in the giggling baby, fully expecting to have her nice outgoing clothes to gain some drool stains. “I dunno, I think Amelia’s pretty psyched about seeing daddy get so embarrassed - shhhh,” she whispered to her. “Daddy’s just mad because he liked it.”

In his end, Garrus groaned. “And I need to get out of here before that thing comes back.”

“Take a shot before you go,” Pete insisted, pouring a little more bourbon into Garrus’ glass. He was definitely going to do it, and also because he was a good friend, filled a shopping bag with boxes and boxes of candy - there was plenty to go around, trust him. “And, ah - right, so I’ll just be in touch about our situation. The organ situation. The work thing,” he finally amended, flustered, because he didn’t want Lina to think they were talking about dicks or anything.

He also didn’t bloody well like it, of course not! Okay, so it wasn’t the worst kiss he’d ever had in his life, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed such madness!

Garrus was also flustered, and had difficulty even looking at Wisdom in the eye - especially with his wife around cracking jokes, spirits, this was the most awkward he’s ever been and this was the asshole that had told his wife her hips ‘looked supportive’ while he was attempting to properly express those three little words back in their dating days. “Thanks,” he groused, but there was obviously no personal irritation towards his friend here.

Just. Well. He needed out, but he’d appreciatively knock back that complimentary shot, swipe the goodies, stuff his datapad back into his briefcase, and stand to to adjust his coat and clothes and oh, look, there’s the door.

Lina was smiling, waving her devious fingers as he went to the door, and Amelia seemed to pick up and mimic the gesture obliviously. “Byeeee, next time you make out with my husband I’m charging - taxes additional, interest too.”