Gary tried to keep his mom from knowing about his life as a professional villain's henchman. Part of him still has a lot of guilt for lying to her so long, claiming he was living with his uncle while he was working for the Monarch. How she never found out, who knows. She had to know, though, the number of times 24 picked him up or dropped him off after the henchmen support group. If she got an email from Sheila, she'd never breathed a word of it to her son.
"Thanks, Mrs. Monarch, seriously. Hearing that means so much to me." He replied in a sheepish tone, and a bit of a blush. Gary moved an arm around her to return the hug. This wasn't the old crush, just him finally feeling like he really belonged somewhere again. He felt the same way anytime Malcolm told him a plan of his was good.
Pulling back from the half hug, he sat his phone aside. "I don't know, Hatred might disagree." Hatred just had hurt feelings, which was the Moppet's fault more than Garys. "I try my best, you guys mean a lot to me, so I want to keep you both safe." He chuckled then. "Don't you guys already protect me? You kept me and Monarch from being executed over the whole Morpho thing." Vendata showing up, and their costumes being in the trunk helped a lot with that, but still, she gets credit in his mind.
Maybe she'd talked to her after 24, maybe she hadn't. We'll never know, and Gary certainly won't. His actual mother may be....very vocal, but when it comes to her boy, it seems she can keep a few things mum.
"It's Sheila, silly," she chides him gently. "And Hatred is a freak, even when he's alright. He's got his own demons...we all do, but his." Shudders.
"We'll keep protecting you, too." She'll burn down the world and raze its ashes if it kept her boys safe, honestly. Both of them. "Even if you're all big Viceroy now."
If she had, his mother had stayed mum over it as well. Let her boy believe that she still thinks he's good. For all their villainy, he really did stay mostly a good man.
"Sheila, right. Sorry, just seems totally weird after all these years." He admitted a bit sheepishly. "I'll do my best." He's sure the Monarch will either look at him funny, or be proud of him. One or the other, but he knew damned well not to call him Malcolm in ear shot. Unless he was ignoring him, then it's free game.
"Dude, right? Did I ever tell you about me and the guys having to traq him up to help out the Venture boys? The night we couldn't arch Venture due to his section 8." He would always call it that, even if MASH was an old reference to pull. "Dude has issues, but he can be cool."
He reached up, rubbing the back of his head, clearly a little flustered. He didn't need to say it was a mutual feeling, but he had to acknowledge the last bit. "You knew about that?" Granted, as many times as he's used Viceroy, of course, she had to know.
"I feel like it's some kind of fucked up revolving karma thing with him. Between stealing all his gear to...all that." A shake of her head. Every day, she knows how messed up their lives are but Hatred really is just.
No Radar, that's for sure. Is he Col. Blake in this instant? Gross.
21's bashfulness is always rather endearing. "Pretty sure that's your handle in most places. That or Anakinsuxsand or whatever."
"Oh probably, I'm sure theres stuff we don't ever want to know. I know I don't." But he would probably punch the old man if he made one more crack about his weight. Hatred had no right. "Dude, stealing his gear was so fun though." Some of the orders they got were just too good not to do.
He'd always pick Hawkeye if asked, Hawkeye was cool.
Finally, he chuckles again. "Totally valid point." It was even his guild email address. He loves how clever it was. "You're pretty close to the other one, and I'm so not telling." His gaming life, was kept mostly separate from his work life. That and he probably gets a little toxic when people kill him in games. "We should probably go inside soon, it's a bit nippy out here. Totally cool to keep talking, though."
He enjoyed these kinds of moments, but he didn't want her getting sick, not with how important her job is.
"How did you even get by his goons? They're military trained, most of them." Their half-immortal-half expendable minions...against military guys? That's the biggest mystery of what they do.
She's more into Trapper. Please don't ask, yes its the curly hair and the accent, okay. Stop.
"Oh~ I could find out if I wanted. But I'll leave you to some mysterious stuff."
Once again, she's jolted by how thoughtful he is when it comes to his bosses, and his friends. She smiles.
"You're right. You probably need to do a victory dance to the tune of that DDR song or something, don't you?"
"Do you really want to know? I could so tell you." He sounded amused as he offered. Those were the good old days, when 24 was still around and there was still a softball ball team.
Trapper was amazing, that's just the final word.
"See, you totally get it. How can I be cool if you know everything? My game stats and penalties are so a cool mystery best left unsolved." He teased playfully, standing and slipping his phone into his pocket. The beer bottle in one hand, the other offered to help her up.
"No, I think chilling with you totally counts as a victory dance. I'll totally count it!" His bosses were the coolest people, and he loved being able to be there for them and help in any way. He felt like he belonged with his found family. And he hoped the Monarch wouldn't smell any smoke on them.
"This is very true, we need to keep your coolness on the level," she says, bemusement brimming in her tone. Seriously, 21 just cracks her up. It is fun to banter like this, like equals, more or less.
A little helpless laugh escapes her.
"If you say so. That might affect your coolness level, though."
"You so get it, total bro." It was nice to just joke around and kill some time, and feeling at ease with her. Even if he'd always see her and Malcolm as more important than him, they were all each other had. Guild aside for her.
"I'll take the hit for that one, so worth it. It's been so long since I was able to talk to someone when I snuck a cigarette." Either 24, or maybe Brock when they jumped Monstroso.
It's true, it's nice to just laugh and smile like this, easily.
"Yeah, same here." Sure, she can banter some with the guild, but they're...the guild. She feels, once again despite all she did to protect this organization, that she can't show any weakness.
This was one of the few bright sides of losing the cocoon. Gary had gotten to know Sheila and Malcolm better than he had in the past.
"Absolutely, count me in." He agreed with ease. "And if you need one and need him distracted so that you can sneak one in, just let me know. I can help." It was an easy enough thing to offer to make. Between the cave, house improvements and plotting for arching Gary could distract Malcolm, so she could smoke.
"After all these years, I know more or less how to duck out and sneak one. I know you certainly do," a raised brow. "The stuff you spray-- axe and something else." Fear probably.
Sheila rises to her feet, sighing, a smoke ring drifting above her head.
"That's fair, I mean, obviously I do too. But we can totally be a team in this. Less speeches for both of us." As sad as it might be, Gary didn't think this vice of his would be what killed him.
"Oh my god, no, I haven't used Axe since I was like 15 or 16! I'm not that bad. Lately it's 18 Amber Wood by Rob Lowe." His weird niche ability of being able to name and identity celebrity scents came in handy with this. "Covers the smell and keeps me from smelling like a D-bag." Way too many jokes about his axe days when he first joined from the old henches had gotten him into those scents.
Fear also probably had a hand in it, at least in why he carries it. Reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small cylinder and twisted it to show the travel cologne. And holding it over to her. "They also so make scents strong enough to cover weed." A silent second. "Or so I am told!" There's that nervous 'I just told on myself' look. Granted, that one he stopped a long time ago.
He sees that eyebrow raised. "Ouch, come on now. Frat boy is barely a step above axe. Hurtful." Half kidding but also, already thinking of something to switch it too. "The comic boards, however, I don't take offense too." He added because, he did have standards.
Once it was handed over, he shrugged. "I try my best, not big on the yelling or speeches about smoking." He'd worked for the Monarch long enough to have them memorized. "I mostly quit when 24 died" His amusement washing away with a touch of sadness thinking of 24 again.
He should have known she'd know more about the minions than Malcolm.
"Too bad they can't bottle that, or nerd culture might be transforming." Thank god they can't, and won't. At least not while they're alive.
Sheila groans at the very thought of the speeches. "I'd almost rather he left those stupid pamphlets around the house."
Ah, 24. She gently touches his shoulder. "True. You can show the new caterpillars the way of the dank one day, maybe. Take them under your wings like 24 did."
"Oh, some can. There's a place called Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. They make some awesome scents, ones an old library scent." He admitted without any shame. Though, nerd culture would truly be bottled. No one wanted that.
He nodded, with the time that passed, he was tempted to light up again, but decided not to. "Oh, I so understand, he's screeched in my ear so loud over it in the past I thought he blew an ear drum." Which still wasn't as bad as the morning after the bachelor party.
Gary couldn't help but chuckle when she touched his should and gave him the great idea. "Maybe, I totally plan to take them under my wing. But, possibly, not the dank ways though, but everything else. Kinda keep him alive by keeping the neophytes alone."
It might be something he'd look into for her in the future. But he didn't realize yet that she'd even like it.
"Dude, I could not even imagine. I'd probably hit someone if they did that to me. But I've always slept alone and don't like people in my space." Which would likely have changed if he ever got in a relationship, but he'd been single basically his whole life and at this point he was more than fine with it.
"That's a fluttering horde tradition! Pizza rolls, and the buffalo wings, I will not deny them that. And dude, no one respects supper anymore." He made a face, Malcolm never made it on time when Gary made supper. Such a shame.
He notices it, but he's gotten the same look for 24, and from Malcolm when he'd made self-deprecating comments about his lack of a love life. As it was, he had no real interest in a relationship, he just wanted to further his career and help his best friend with his rivalry.
"Dude, how embarrassing would that be? Plus, he might hit me with those bony elbows." A shrug followed. "Unless the heat died or something." He's thought about it before, mostly as a watch a movie and all chill under a blanket on the couch kind of deal. "Which is so lame to say aloud?"
He didn't mind the pat. "Oh, I didn't really think about that. Kinda Bruce Wayne like that, huh? Except, no Alfred."
"The elbowing is pretty painful. And then he acts like it isn't his fault." She has to snort at her own cuddle pile joke, though, for such soft men, they sure try to act tough sometimes when it comes to all that.
"It's totally lame, but that's alright." Like Bruce Wayne... "No, no Alfred, as far as I know." He could have used one.
"I had a feeling, you can just tell with some people." Though, he shook his head when she mentioned Malcolm acting like it wasn't his fault. Classic Monarch, he wasn't even shocked. Before 24 died he might have openly given his idea without much shame, but now he cared a little more about what he says and how it can be taken.
Outside of his fandoms, anyway.
"And that's why it will never be mentioned again." He pushed himself up, grabbing the empty bottle and the cigarette butt to drop it inside. "That so sucks, he deserved better than that." Looking back to her. "I'm gonna head back in, in a second. Want me to ditch yours too? He never takes out the trash, easier to just toss them in the can." That's how he's hid the cigarette butts and kept Manolo from getting blamed.
Depending on the people, he's a little easier to argue with these days. Maybe it's old age or just settling in. Or just a best friend who respects him but doesn't fear him like he used to.
Her smile softens into something sad, wistful. Of all she knows about bitty Malcolm, he deserved so much better. "He deserved the world, then."
Now that trust fund...it depends. Sheila shrugs. "C'mon, let's go in. I'm freezing my tits off, but it's good to know I was right-- he isn't taking out the trash."
Probably a bit of old age, and a best friend who will argue with him now. Gary always tended to befriend people older than him. Hank, aside, of course. But they had a lot in common.
"Well, we can at least try to give him the world now. Team effort, or family effort, I guess." That brought a smile to his face as he pulled open the back door for her, motioning her in first.
"You totally should have said something, I would have loaned you my hoodie." He lightly chastised, but would follow her inside once she was headed in. The bottle still in hand to ditch with the rest of the trash. "Come on, did you really think he was? I take it out, and to the street."
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"Thanks, Mrs. Monarch, seriously. Hearing that means so much to me." He replied in a sheepish tone, and a bit of a blush. Gary moved an arm around her to return the hug. This wasn't the old crush, just him finally feeling like he really belonged somewhere again. He felt the same way anytime Malcolm told him a plan of his was good.
Pulling back from the half hug, he sat his phone aside. "I don't know, Hatred might disagree." Hatred just had hurt feelings, which was the Moppet's fault more than Garys. "I try my best, you guys mean a lot to me, so I want to keep you both safe." He chuckled then. "Don't you guys already protect me? You kept me and Monarch from being executed over the whole Morpho thing." Vendata showing up, and their costumes being in the trunk helped a lot with that, but still, she gets credit in his mind.
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"It's Sheila, silly," she chides him gently. "And Hatred is a freak, even when he's alright. He's got his own demons...we all do, but his." Shudders.
"We'll keep protecting you, too." She'll burn down the world and raze its ashes if it kept her boys safe, honestly. Both of them. "Even if you're all big Viceroy now."
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"Sheila, right. Sorry, just seems totally weird after all these years." He admitted a bit sheepishly. "I'll do my best." He's sure the Monarch will either look at him funny, or be proud of him. One or the other, but he knew damned well not to call him Malcolm in ear shot. Unless he was ignoring him, then it's free game.
"Dude, right? Did I ever tell you about me and the guys having to traq him up to help out the Venture boys? The night we couldn't arch Venture due to his section 8." He would always call it that, even if MASH was an old reference to pull. "Dude has issues, but he can be cool."
He reached up, rubbing the back of his head, clearly a little flustered. He didn't need to say it was a mutual feeling, but he had to acknowledge the last bit. "You knew about that?" Granted, as many times as he's used Viceroy, of course, she had to know.
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No Radar, that's for sure. Is he Col. Blake in this instant? Gross.
21's bashfulness is always rather endearing. "Pretty sure that's your handle in most places. That or Anakinsuxsand or whatever."
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He'd always pick Hawkeye if asked, Hawkeye was cool.
Finally, he chuckles again. "Totally valid point." It was even his guild email address. He loves how clever it was. "You're pretty close to the other one, and I'm so not telling." His gaming life, was kept mostly separate from his work life. That and he probably gets a little toxic when people kill him in games. "We should probably go inside soon, it's a bit nippy out here. Totally cool to keep talking, though."
He enjoyed these kinds of moments, but he didn't want her getting sick, not with how important her job is.
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She's more into Trapper. Please don't ask, yes its the curly hair and the accent, okay. Stop.
"Oh~ I could find out if I wanted. But I'll leave you to some mysterious stuff."
Once again, she's jolted by how thoughtful he is when it comes to his bosses, and his friends. She smiles.
"You're right. You probably need to do a victory dance to the tune of that DDR song or something, don't you?"
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Trapper was amazing, that's just the final word.
"See, you totally get it. How can I be cool if you know everything? My game stats and penalties are so a cool mystery best left unsolved." He teased playfully, standing and slipping his phone into his pocket. The beer bottle in one hand, the other offered to help her up.
"No, I think chilling with you totally counts as a victory dance. I'll totally count it!" His bosses were the coolest people, and he loved being able to be there for them and help in any way. He felt like he belonged with his found family. And he hoped the Monarch wouldn't smell any smoke on them.
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A little helpless laugh escapes her.
"If you say so. That might affect your coolness level, though."
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"I'll take the hit for that one, so worth it. It's been so long since I was able to talk to someone when I snuck a cigarette." Either 24, or maybe Brock when they jumped Monstroso.
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"Yeah, same here." Sure, she can banter some with the guild, but they're...the guild. She feels, once again despite all she did to protect this organization, that she can't show any weakness.
"We can still, as long as we don't get caught."
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"Absolutely, count me in." He agreed with ease. "And if you need one and need him distracted so that you can sneak one in, just let me know. I can help." It was an easy enough thing to offer to make. Between the cave, house improvements and plotting for arching Gary could distract Malcolm, so she could smoke.
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"After all these years, I know more or less how to duck out and sneak one. I know you certainly do," a raised brow. "The stuff you spray-- axe and something else." Fear probably.
Sheila rises to her feet, sighing, a smoke ring drifting above her head.
I spent WAY too long on this.
"Oh my god, no, I haven't used Axe since I was like 15 or 16! I'm not that bad. Lately it's 18 Amber Wood by Rob Lowe." His weird niche ability of being able to name and identity celebrity scents came in handy with this. "Covers the smell and keeps me from smelling like a D-bag." Way too many jokes about his axe days when he first joined from the old henches had gotten him into those scents.
Fear also probably had a hand in it, at least in why he carries it. Reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small cylinder and twisted it to show the travel cologne. And holding it over to her. "They also so make scents strong enough to cover weed." A silent second. "Or so I am told!" There's that nervous 'I just told on myself' look. Granted, that one he stopped a long time ago.
shhhhh <3
Sheila does take the cylinder, gives it a squint. "I think it must do a good job, I hardly ever smell it on you-- not lately, anyway."
Oh don't worry, she knows the things her minions got up to.
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Once it was handed over, he shrugged. "I try my best, not big on the yelling or speeches about smoking." He'd worked for the Monarch long enough to have them memorized. "I mostly quit when 24 died" His amusement washing away with a touch of sadness thinking of 24 again.
He should have known she'd know more about the minions than Malcolm.
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Sheila groans at the very thought of the speeches. "I'd almost rather he left those stupid pamphlets around the house."
Ah, 24. She gently touches his shoulder. "True. You can show the new caterpillars the way of the dank one day, maybe. Take them under your wings like 24 did."
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He nodded, with the time that passed, he was tempted to light up again, but decided not to. "Oh, I so understand, he's screeched in my ear so loud over it in the past I thought he blew an ear drum." Which still wasn't as bad as the morning after the bachelor party.
Gary couldn't help but chuckle when she touched his should and gave him the great idea. "Maybe, I totally plan to take them under my wing. But, possibly, not the dank ways though, but everything else. Kinda keep him alive by keeping the neophytes alone."
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"Try waking up next to that when you slide into bed after a last ciggie." An eyeroll. It's fond, though!
"And pizza rolls. And supper."
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"Dude, I could not even imagine. I'd probably hit someone if they did that to me. But I've always slept alone and don't like people in my space." Which would likely have changed if he ever got in a relationship, but he'd been single basically his whole life and at this point he was more than fine with it.
"That's a fluttering horde tradition! Pizza rolls, and the buffalo wings, I will not deny them that. And dude, no one respects supper anymore." He made a face, Malcolm never made it on time when Gary made supper. Such a shame.
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"You mean you haven't forced your boss into a cuddle pile? That's a surprise," good cover, Sheila.
Pat, pat. "I know, I know. He's not used to that-- I think he was on his own a lot for dinner as a kid."
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"Dude, how embarrassing would that be? Plus, he might hit me with those bony elbows." A shrug followed. "Unless the heat died or something." He's thought about it before, mostly as a watch a movie and all chill under a blanket on the couch kind of deal. "Which is so lame to say aloud?"
He didn't mind the pat. "Oh, I didn't really think about that. Kinda Bruce Wayne like that, huh? Except, no Alfred."
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"It's totally lame, but that's alright." Like Bruce Wayne... "No, no Alfred, as far as I know." He could have used one.
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Outside of his fandoms, anyway.
"And that's why it will never be mentioned again." He pushed himself up, grabbing the empty bottle and the cigarette butt to drop it inside. "That so sucks, he deserved better than that." Looking back to her. "I'm gonna head back in, in a second. Want me to ditch yours too? He never takes out the trash, easier to just toss them in the can." That's how he's hid the cigarette butts and kept Manolo from getting blamed.
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Her smile softens into something sad, wistful. Of all she knows about bitty Malcolm, he deserved so much better. "He deserved the world, then."
Now that trust fund...it depends. Sheila shrugs. "C'mon, let's go in. I'm freezing my tits off, but it's good to know I was right-- he isn't taking out the trash."
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"Well, we can at least try to give him the world now. Team effort, or family effort, I guess." That brought a smile to his face as he pulled open the back door for her, motioning her in first.
"You totally should have said something, I would have loaned you my hoodie." He lightly chastised, but would follow her inside once she was headed in. The bottle still in hand to ditch with the rest of the trash. "Come on, did you really think he was? I take it out, and to the street."
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