Chapter Text
Major John André is stopped from entering further into the room, after opening the door, by a corpse lying in front him. He looks down at the corpse that still spills blood from the wound in its throat that was caused by a dagger. He looks up to the man causing said wound. Down onto the corpse again and up once more. "You killed him." He is surprised by himself to stay so calm by voicing the undenying fact in front of his feet.
"You don't say..." With a bored expression the other man cleans the dagger. Not a drop of blood ruined the uniform.
"Is there a reasonable reason why a dead man lies on the floor and ruins the carpet?"
"I told him to stop bleeding but he isn't listening... Some people can be incredibly stubborn."
He sighs, rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with the other hand resting on his hip.. "Simcoe..."
"He's a traitor," he shrugs with his shoulder, "he wanted to sell us to the enemy. The exact words were: 'I have two slimy Tories upstairs. Washington would pay me well for their posh asses'."
"Did he tell you or why do you might think so?"
"My very own informant did so."
"Your very own informant?" Whom did he threat to...
"Men are so easy," sounds a female voice that just enters the room from the other door, "Give them a bit ale and the view of a nice smile and neckline and they tell you everything."
"What is she doing here?!" The Major points at the woman stepping in. "Excuse me, Milady, but what are you doing here?"
"He brought me with him," she nods at Simcoe, cleaning her hands with a towel.
"I thought I was very specific!"
"You were, Sir." Simcoe puts the dagger away. "But it is my right to take my humble wife," he looks at her with a wide grin, "my moon and stars, with me."
"And is it not my duty to accompany my dearest husband," she copies his gesture, "my heart and soul, to wherever he goes?"
He could throw up. In fact, he would like to throw up. Not because of the corpse and the blood. They do it on purpose to act so sweet in front of everyone that all around could get diabetes and toothache and he likes especially to rub it into his face. 'Oh look at me, I married the woman I love! Look how happily married we are!` Ugh... Mr. and Mrs. Simcoe... Urgh... "What is wrong with you..."
"You obviously, Sir. You are wrong with me."
"Killing people is not going lowkey... in fact it will be pretty obvious when you're leaving a trail of dead people behind us."
"Oh, I am sorry. The next time I wait until we get caught, imprisoned and tortured and also hanged..."
He rolls with his eyes. By all means it is too tragic that this example of human mankind is the only one around to first, be available, second, to get his work done and third, to be cold and brutal enough to keep them getting rid of spies and traitors. If Major John André would have had a choice he would have taken anyone else onto the secret mission to find the leak in their lines and weaken Washington, than Captain Simcoe. He told him to not tell a single soul and what is he doing? Going straight to his wife and telling her. So much for secret undercover mission. "The corpse is your problem... I need a drink now."
The two remaining looking after the Major as he left and shut the door soundly.
"What is his problem," she asks, "It´s just an ungly carpet... It´s not even his carpet."
"He has literally no sense of humour... That´s his problem." He already starts to roll up the corpse into said ugly carpet to get rid of both.