Ship: Ebumi Masaru/Oharano Etsugo Fandom: All Out Major Tags: violence Other Tags: some swears; a scared (but unharmed) dog Word Count: 896
spy AU featuring Hollywood rules
*** There were two things you needed to know about Ebumi Masaru: he was fast as hell, and he was vicious. Two things that made him an effective agent for hit-and-run missions. They also made him a terrible coworker.
You’ll be meeting your new Control today. He’s young, but shows a lot of promise. Very level-headed, with good instincts.
Try not to break this one, will you? I can’t send you out in the field without a Control.
Matsu
Ebumi scowled at the email. It wasn’t his fault the last guy was so damn fragile. Hell, Ebumi had been trying to give him safety tips (after smashing his face in, Matsuo pointed out).
He missed Ise, but Ise had decided to move up to agent status himself, and was doing pretty well. Ebumi didn’t want to begrudge him happiness there, but he couldn’t shake the idea that this job had been way more fun with Ise in his ear, laughing at his jokes and offering the most outrageous escape routes available.
Well, time to meet the new guy.
“Oharano Etsugo,” the new guy introduced himself. “I’ll be your new Control.”
Ebumi didn’t know it was even possible to look that bored. The new guy—Oharano—had the kind of face and figure that the honeypot division would kill for, but that look, like he was disappointed with everything life had to offer, ruined it.
Overenthusiasm was irritating; this was worse. He sneered.
“I have a mission tomorrow night,” he said, leaving out any helpful information. Let the new guy figure it out for himself. “Think you’ll be ready?”
Oharano met his gaze without flinching.
“Yes,” he replied coolly. He made a perfunctory bow and left.
Ebumi couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to hit someone so much.
This was exactly the kind of mission Ebumi loved. The target was heavily guarded, and he had a time window of thirty minutes to get in and out. His blood hummed with anticipation.
This was going to be fun.
“Ready?” Oharano’s voice said in his ear. Ebumi grimaced. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so fun, after all, if he was stuck with this fun-sucking icicle.
“Always,” he snarled.
“Good. The target is on the fifty-first floor. I estimate five guards, with at least ten on call. Once in position, you should take no longer than twenty minutes to disarm the guards and acquire the target.” Ebumi privately resolved to be done in ten. That would teach Oharano, maybe impress him into showing some kind of emotion.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Got it.”
“Good,” Oharano said again. “And Ebumi?”
“What?”
“If things go wrong, I hope you’ll follow my instructions.”
Ebumi barked out a derisive laugh and went to move into position.
Apparently, some rival agency had also decided that tonight would be a good time to go for the same target. The mission was blown, and the estimated fifteen guards had somehow doubled, sending the room into thirty-two people and one agitated Pomeranian’s worth of chaos.
“Fuck!” Ebumi shouted, elbowing a guard in the face. “Isn’t it your job to figure out if this kind of shit is going to happen, Control?” He could see the other agent making a move for the dog, and he threw himself forward, squeezing past two burly guards.
“Do you have the dog?” Control’s voice was tight, and Ebumi felt a stab of satisfaction before he remembered that, no, actually, this was not a good time for Control to be stressed out.
“Give me a second,” he said. He grabbed the other agent by the neck and slammed their head against the table. They went limp, hand only a few inches away from the dog. The target. It yelped as Ebumi grabbed it around the middle and tucked it close. “Right, target acquired. Now get me the fuck out of here.”
“There are five guards between you and the door,” Control said. “That way is easier, but it’ll take you longer to get out of the building, and the target’s owner is on his way.”
“All right, what’s Plan B? You guys always have a Plan B,” Ebumi muttered, pulling a knife. “You guys usually have a Plan X, so come on.”
“There are seven guards between you and the window,” Control said. Ebumi waited. No further information came.
“Seriously?” He kicked out a guy’s knee and drove his knife into another’s shoulder. The dog was really cramping his style, but the agency needed it alive.
“It’s the fastest way out of the building,” replied Control. He sounded amused. Fucker. “I have a helicopter waiting. Unless you’d rather take the easy way out?”
Ebumi laughed. He couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or impressed. Probably it was both.
“You’re an asshole, aren’t you?” he asked. He hoped Oharano couldn’t see him smiling. It was probably the mission, anyway.
“There’s no need to be rude, Ebumi,” Oharano chastised. “Now move.”
Ebumi laughed again and fought through the remaining men to the window. Sure enough, there was a helicopter outside, a few floors down.
“I’m gonna kick your ass when I get back,” he promised, looking around for something to break the window with. He picked up a gun from one of the guards and shattered the pane in front of him.
Fill: Team Grandstand, T
Fandom: All Out
Major Tags: violence
Other Tags: some swears; a scared (but unharmed) dog
Word Count: 896
spy AU featuring Hollywood rules
***
There were two things you needed to know about Ebumi Masaru: he was fast as hell, and he was vicious. Two things that made him an effective agent for hit-and-run missions. They also made him a terrible coworker.
You’ll be meeting your new Control today. He’s young, but shows a lot of promise. Very level-headed, with good instincts.
Try not to break this one, will you? I can’t send you out in the field without a Control.
Matsu
Ebumi scowled at the email. It wasn’t his fault the last guy was so damn fragile. Hell, Ebumi had been trying to give him safety tips (after smashing his face in, Matsuo pointed out).
He missed Ise, but Ise had decided to move up to agent status himself, and was doing pretty well. Ebumi didn’t want to begrudge him happiness there, but he couldn’t shake the idea that this job had been way more fun with Ise in his ear, laughing at his jokes and offering the most outrageous escape routes available.
Well, time to meet the new guy.
“Oharano Etsugo,” the new guy introduced himself. “I’ll be your new Control.”
Ebumi didn’t know it was even possible to look that bored. The new guy—Oharano—had the kind of face and figure that the honeypot division would kill for, but that look, like he was disappointed with everything life had to offer, ruined it.
Overenthusiasm was irritating; this was worse. He sneered.
“I have a mission tomorrow night,” he said, leaving out any helpful information. Let the new guy figure it out for himself. “Think you’ll be ready?”
Oharano met his gaze without flinching.
“Yes,” he replied coolly. He made a perfunctory bow and left.
Ebumi couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to hit someone so much.
This was exactly the kind of mission Ebumi loved. The target was heavily guarded, and he had a time window of thirty minutes to get in and out. His blood hummed with anticipation.
This was going to be fun.
“Ready?” Oharano’s voice said in his ear. Ebumi grimaced. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so fun, after all, if he was stuck with this fun-sucking icicle.
“Always,” he snarled.
“Good. The target is on the fifty-first floor. I estimate five guards, with at least ten on call. Once in position, you should take no longer than twenty minutes to disarm the guards and acquire the target.”
Ebumi privately resolved to be done in ten. That would teach Oharano, maybe impress him into showing some kind of emotion.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Got it.”
“Good,” Oharano said again. “And Ebumi?”
“What?”
“If things go wrong, I hope you’ll follow my instructions.”
Ebumi barked out a derisive laugh and went to move into position.
Apparently, some rival agency had also decided that tonight would be a good time to go for the same target. The mission was blown, and the estimated fifteen guards had somehow doubled, sending the room into thirty-two people and one agitated Pomeranian’s worth of chaos.
“Fuck!” Ebumi shouted, elbowing a guard in the face. “Isn’t it your job to figure out if this kind of shit is going to happen, Control?” He could see the other agent making a move for the dog, and he threw himself forward, squeezing past two burly guards.
“Do you have the dog?” Control’s voice was tight, and Ebumi felt a stab of satisfaction before he remembered that, no, actually, this was not a good time for Control to be stressed out.
“Give me a second,” he said. He grabbed the other agent by the neck and slammed their head against the table. They went limp, hand only a few inches away from the dog. The target. It yelped as Ebumi grabbed it around the middle and tucked it close. “Right, target acquired. Now get me the fuck out of here.”
“There are five guards between you and the door,” Control said. “That way is easier, but it’ll take you longer to get out of the building, and the target’s owner is on his way.”
“All right, what’s Plan B? You guys always have a Plan B,” Ebumi muttered, pulling a knife. “You guys usually have a Plan X, so come on.”
“There are seven guards between you and the window,” Control said. Ebumi waited. No further information came.
“Seriously?” He kicked out a guy’s knee and drove his knife into another’s shoulder. The dog was really cramping his style, but the agency needed it alive.
“It’s the fastest way out of the building,” replied Control. He sounded amused. Fucker. “I have a helicopter waiting. Unless you’d rather take the easy way out?”
Ebumi laughed. He couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or impressed. Probably it was both.
“You’re an asshole, aren’t you?” he asked. He hoped Oharano couldn’t see him smiling. It was probably the mission, anyway.
“There’s no need to be rude, Ebumi,” Oharano chastised. “Now move.”
Ebumi laughed again and fought through the remaining men to the window. Sure enough, there was a helicopter outside, a few floors down.
“I’m gonna kick your ass when I get back,” he promised, looking around for something to break the window with. He picked up a gun from one of the guards and shattered the pane in front of him.
“Just go,” Oharano said.
Ebumi wrapped his arms around the dog and jumped.