Chapter Text
“C’mon,” Juniper sighed from the seat next to Phoenix, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “You’re pretty and all but you look pathetic.”
“[Wow,]” Phoenix laughed, almost begrudgingly sitting down opposite man, “[You really
do
care about me.]”
“Well, I need my personal guard in tip-top shape. After all, who’ll protect little ol’ me if you’re out of commission?”
“[I mean, you literally have an entire team to look after you.]”
“That’s beside the point,”
Juniper rolled his eyes, smiling slightly as he stood up, disappearing somewhere on his jet before returning moments later, a suspiciously red case in his hands. Phoenix whined in a way that insisted they were fine as Juniper grabbed a stool to sit in front of them. He looked at them rather plainly, head dipping towards his lap. Phoenix unenthusiastically plopped their injured foot in front of him, crossing their arms.
The touch was gentle as Juniper carefully removed their shoe, hands tracing their ankle. They tried, once again, insisting that they were fine, wincing as Juniper ran over a particularly sore spot. The man looked unimpressed as he pulled out a roll of gauze.
“The good news is that I don’t think it's broken,” he explained softly as he wrapped their ankle. “You managed to cut it though but– wait . This happened when you were dragging me off the stage, didn’t it?”
“[And if I reminded you that I’m perfectly fine?]” Phoenix smiled awkwardly, resting their now-wrapped foot in their lap as they leaned against the back of the couch.
“Yeah, of course,” he seemed very unconvinced as he eyed them up and down. “At the very least stay seated. I don’t want you bleeding through your bandages. Nor do I want you to get blood all over my very nice jet.”
“[How considerate]” Phoenix drawled before leaning into their hand.
“Take a nap, Phoenix. I’ll wake you when we get to the Fabricator’s workshop.”
They moved to lounge across the rather luxurious couch they were situated on. A nap did sound nice– They suppose that it wouldn’t exactly hurt, after all. Juniper was trustworthy (enough), they supposed as they closed their eyes, being rocked to sleep by the plan’s subtle movements.
Phoenix stirred without much fanfare, the jet long since stationary. They blinked their eyes open, pushing up from their position. They rubbed the sleep from their eyes, yawning ever so slightly. Swinging their feet over the edge of the couch, they caught sight of the window, namely the very familiar chateau that lay outside. They blinked. Once. Twice. And turned to find Juniper.
“[This looks far too familiar to be Spain,]” Phoenix commented after getting the actor’s attention. They frowned, crossing their arms as they looked at the somewhat sheepish actor.
“It was a short meeting–” explained Juniper rather plainly, “there wasn’t a need to wake you for such a simple affair. Plus, the place is swarming with guards.”
“[Replacing me already, are you?]” smirked Phoenix.
“You should know that I could never replace you.”
“[ Gross. ]”
“Awe,” crooned Juniper, a shit-eating grin on his face, “but it’s the truth!”
“[So?]” signed Phoenix before they pushed up from their seat, tentatively stepping on their wrapped ankle. It hurt significantly less now, they noted with a start. They edged closer to the window, looking out towards Juniper’s rather lavish chateau.
“[What now?]” they asked as Juniper turned around to face them.
“Well,” he laughed, scratching his chin, “I’ve decided to have a little party to celebrate Premier Sucre’s capture.”
“[Are you serious?]” they drawled– well, as much as one could drawl when you didn’t speak, “[That sounds like the single worst decision you could ever make. Do you want to be a sitting duck–?]”
“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”
“[The last time I was at one of these things, I was fucking shot.]”
“To be fair,” Juniper shrugged, “that was your own fault.”
“[Well I’m sorry for saving your ass! Next time I won’t do it.]”
“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”
“[No,]” Phoenix smirked as they watched Juniper laugh softly to himself, shaking his head ever so slightly. “[But I still think this is a horrible idea.]”
Juniper didn’t say anything, opting to edge closer to Phoenix, hands moving to rest on their shoulders. He tilted his head, eyes crinkling at the corners as his smile widened.
“[I’m not going to be able to convince you otherwise, am I?]” they sighed.
“Did you really think you had a choice in the first place?”
Phoenix messed with the hilt of their knife from its holster underneath their dress. For some reason, it offered a strange sense of comfort— probably because half the people in the room would definitely kill them at the drop of a hat if their cover was blown.
The dress was nice; certainly, not something they’d have chosen if given the chance but, as much as Phoenix loathe to admit it, Juniper had at least some sort of fashion sense. Dark blues dipped into oranges at the hem of the dress. A mesh bodice accompanied it, tulle draping from their arms and wrapping around their body. They eyed the actor in question, the man talking animatedly to a small group that'd formed around him. He smirked to himself, holding a thick briefcase close to his chest, almost flauntingly.
Said briefcase held some very important nuclear weapons codes; specifically the ones they were tasked to keep watch over. Phoenix didn’t exactly like the thought of losing their position so soon after they got it back. While yes, they wanted the codes to be secured as soon as they could, they still had the world leaders to think of. There were only a few days until the Peace Summit— they’d need to hang on just a little longer.
Phoenix sighed to themself, running their hand through their hair as they watched Juniper waddle around the ballroom. Did he want to lose it?! They could really see why Zor entrusted them to look after the man— he was an accident waiting to happen. It infuriated them; just how idiotic was he? His entire demeanour screamed ‘This is about me’ and Phoenix couldn’t help but feel irritated. They thought they’d gotten used to his egocentric nature by now but apparently not. God, it was so exhausting .
Their eyes scanned the ballroom, watching as well-dressed people alike conversed, seemingly unaware of the, very dangerous, briefcase that was making the rounds like it was a game of pass the fucking parcel. Juniper was going to get them all killed.
Phoenix couldn’t take it anymore. They casually walked (basically ran) up to Juniper, arms crossed with a disapproving look on their face. The actor glanced at them, face flushed as Phoenix held out their hand expectantly.
“You’d think after the last dance you wouldn’t wanna another go for a second round,” he giggled, holding a glass of champagne towards their face as though they’d want a sip.
“[The briefcase,]” they frowned, hand pushing away the offending glass before nodding towards the offending item. “[I don’t want anyone trying to nab the thing whilst you’re dragging it around.]”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” he bowed. He had drunk a bit too much again if that stupid smile on his face said anything.
“[You’re drunk, John.]” they sighed. “[I won’t ask again.]”
Juniper pouted, bowing his head in resignation as he reluctantly handed it over, muttering something under his breath. Phoenix smiled in response, giving the taller man a quick pat on the back before retreating from the chateau to Juniper’s jet once again. There weren’t any cameras, from what they could remember and it was one of the most secure locations that they could think of, given the limited timeframe.
It was a clunky thing, thick latches securing the thing closed. But for the size of it, it was surprisingly light. One last scan proved the lack of cameras so, with a little huff, they placed the briefcase on the small table.
With quick movements, they clicked it open, only needing to briefly stick their knife in the lock to open it. Their eyes locked onto the contents of the thing; puzzles? That didn’t make sense. Was it some sort of failsafe mechanism? They frowned to themself, running their fingers across the metal components. Almost subconsciously, they reached for their glasses, pulling off one of the nose grips and inserting it firmly in a corner of the case that’d hopefully remain untouched. As much as they’d like to take it and run, there was still the lingering issue of where the heads of state were. The long con, they reminded themself.
Phoenix nodded to themself, seemingly satisfied, before carefully closing the briefcase once again. Now, where could they put it…
They scanned the obnoxiously green interior and landed on the portrait situated in the corner. That could work… Their hands fumbled with the frame, feeling a small click from the side. It opened without much resistance, revealing a small cabinet. It looked as though it’d be large enough to fit the damn thing.
Without much care, they removed one of the shelves before carefully inserting the briefcase into the offending space. Satisfied that it wouldn’t fall out, they clicked the painting’s frame closed once again, a small smile on their face. At least if they got separated from it, the Agency would know where to find it.
The Peace Summit was in a few days. Phoenix couldn’t afford to slip up now; they needed to be careful. Sighing, they resigned themself to return to the chateau, wishing now, more than ever, that they didn’t have to wear those stupid heels.
They couldn’t help the feeling of apprehension that washed over them.