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"No, it's stupid, just forget I ever told you."
"It's not stupid, Doc, don't say that. You're a doctor, so you should know how having feelings for someone is a normal part of life." The German replied.
"Yes, but not for my lifestyle. A relationship would never work." The Frenchman countered.
"How do you know? Have you tried a relationship on this job already?" Blitz tested.
Doc winced, "no I haven't."
"Then you don't know! You're a smart man, Gustave, you could make it work if you really wanted it. So, do you really want it?" Elias asked slowly.
Doc stared down at the floor intensely, "I...I don't know. I don't know what I want. These kind of feelings are new to me."
"That's alright, there's no rush. Test the waters first and just try talking to Thatcher outside of training. Ask about his equipment and how it works or any restaurant recommendations, or things like that. Innocent and surface-level. See how he reacts and go from there." Blitz explained, genuinely wanting to help the other man.
"And if he doesn't respond well I just, what, give up?" Doc questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.
"No, no! Just take it even slower then. Either way, the point is to get him to see you are interested in getting to know him more. He will pick up on it, I promise." Blitz assured.
"If you say so. I suppose I can try. Thank you for the advice. And for listening to my embarrassing predicament." Doc said awkwardly.
Meanwhile, outside the room, a mischievous German was eavesdropping on their conversation. He scoffed quietly and crossed his arms, 'take it slowly, my ass. I'll get them to talk.' Bandit thought to himself as he walked away from the room.
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"I need your help, so you're going to help me." Bandit stated as he sat down across from Mozzie who was currently in the workshop.
Mozzie perked up from his device and blinked, "with what, exactly?"
"I found out a little something about Doc and I'm going to help him along with it. So I need your help with my plan." Bandit explained.
"Did you find out how to finally get that stick out of his ass?" Mozzie joked.
"Unfortunately no, but this is even better." The German glanced around to make sure no other operators were in the room before continuing, "Our little doctor has a crush on a certain someone."
Mozzie raised his ginger eyebrows, "you're shittin' me! Well I'll be damned, who is it then?"
Bandit smirked, "Thatcher."
"What? That grumpy bloke?" Mozzied paused, "well, actually that fits."
Bandit cackled and leaned his arms onto the counter, "So here is my plan to get them to talk to each other.."
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"Doc! Fuck, fuck, Doc!" Mozzie's desperate voice called out as he sprinted down the hall to the Frenchman's medical room. Doc leaped from his chair, instinctively grabbing his medical bag on his desk.
"What, what is it? Mozzie?" Doc asked as the two met in the hall outside the room.
Mozzie tried to catch his breath, "accident..blood...we need you quick." He vaguely explained. Doc gestured for the Aussie to show him the way and the two took off back where Mozzie came from.
The two men made their way to the sleeping quarters and into Mozzie's room to see Bandit and Thatcher. Doc felt his breath hitch in his throat for a quick moment as him and the older man met eyes for a quick moment. Thatcher was currently pressing a small bath towel to Bandit's arm.
"Stupid kid cut himself bad playing with his knife. I happened to be nearby when Mozzie dragged me in 'ere to help with the bleedin' while he got you." Thatcher explained, clearly irritated.
Doc nodded in understanding and walked over to the pair, setting his medical bag on the bed. He opened it and mentally assessed the best approach to the situation.
As he did so, Bandit gave Mozzie a knowing glance who nodded in response. The Aussie waited until Doc turned around again then quickly jumped over to latch handcuffs onto Thatcher and Doc's wrists. With one wrist in a cuff, the two men were now chained together.
Bandit stepped back and began wiping the blood from his arm, "you've been in the military how long and couldn't tell it was fake blood? Pathetic, honestly."
Doc stared at Bandit in shock, unsure how to process this situation. Did he know about his feelings for Thatcher or was this just a coincidence along with one of his infamous pranks? Meanwhile, Thatcher was snarling in anger, testing the cuff before turning to Bandit, "you little bastard, take these off right now!"
"Oh, you want the key? Mozzie, you did your part and hid it nice and good, right?" Bandit gloated.
Mozzie nodded and rested his hands on his belt as he smirked, "right I did, mate."
Thatcher whipped around to the ginger and attempted to grab him with his free hand, only for the shorter man to hop backwards. "Oh no, none of that! I'm leaving now!" He exclaimed as he bolted out the door.
Doc blinked, still trying to process everything. How long would they be stuck like this? What if it was longer than an afternoon, what then? He blushed at the thought of the two of them having to shower together like this. He then pulled himself from his thoughts as he noticed Thatcher staring down at him in confusion.
Before Doc could say something, the other man turned to the still smirking Bandit, "so, what, we're supposed to go find it? Like some fuckin' easter egg hunt?"
Bandit shrugged, "I guess so, yes. But while you're stuck like this, you might as well get to know each other better. I think Doc has something he wants to tell you." With that the German made his way around the pair and left the room.
The two men now cuffed together looked at each other in confusion. Doc internally wanted to shrink down and disappear to the world while Thatcher couldn't decide between finding a way to break the cuffs somehow or strangling Bandit first.
"So are we just supposed to wander around the base like this and look for the key?" Doc asked slowly and nervously.
"Apparently so, yes. How fuckin' humiliatin' this is." The tallerman responded with a growl.
"You know, we should have suspected something as soon as we learned Bandit was involved. That man has cried wolf more times than I care to count." Doc mumbled, glancing down at the handcuff. He tried to ignore how close their two hands were right now.
"Aye, you have a point. But they are our team members and we have to take care of them. Even if sometimes you want to knock their bloody teeth in." Thatcher responded. Doc blinked at his response, taken back by his genuine answer. Doc understood his point perfectly and a part of him felt relief that someone else on this base understood it too.
Thatcher glanced down at the other man, "what?"
The Frenchman quickly looked away, "Ah, nothing. We need to start looking for that key." The two men began their trek around the base, starting in the sleeping quarters where they currently were. At first they tried to sneak and be quiet as they searched in fear of running into other operators and being laughed at.
However, as time went on and they finished their search in the sleeping quarters, they pitched the idea if being sneaky. Their frustration and embarrassment with each other highly outweighed whatever the others could possibly mock them for. Plus, the fire in Thatcher's eyes told most of those who did run into them to not say a word and move along. Doc was thankful for it.
Two hours passed and the two didn't feel any closer to finding their key. Bandit and Mozzie were staying well hidden from the cuffed pair and knew better than to tell any of the other operators about their plan, so no one had a clue as to where to look next.
Eventually the Frenchman and Brit slumped down on a messhall bench with a heavy sigh, "Fuckin' hell, I'm over this." Thatcher growled. Doc nodded slowly in agreement and leaned his free arm on the table behind him.
"You've been quiet this whole time, Doc. I know you're a more strong-silent type but at this point I think a mouse would 'ave talked more than you." Thatcher stated, encouraging the other man to say what's wrong but didn't specifically ask at the same time. Doc decided to bite.
"It's my fault we're in this mess. That weasel Bandit overheard my conversation with Blitz." Doc explained half-heartedly.
"What could you two 'ave possibly talked about that led to THIS?" Thatcher pressed.
Doc started tapping his foot nervously. At first he didn't say anything but as the silence dragged on, he knew it had turned into an awkward pause and something had to give.
"Gustave?" Thatcher asked. His normally rougg and hard voice softening just the smallest bit.
Doc glanced up at him before quickly looking away, "I was talking about you, dammit, there I said it." He finally replied.
"About me? I still don't get it. Operators talk about each other sometimes, so what?" Mike countered.
Doc sucked in a breath and slowly exhaled, "I mean I was talking about you...romantically." Gustave could feel his face start to blush while he answered. He desperately wanted to cross his arms over himself but the cuffs wouldn't allow it.
The Brit grew quiet beside him and Doc didn't dare look up at him. He feared what his expression was right now. He debated between a look of confusion and a look of disgust. Why would Thatcher be interested in a grumpy doctor like him?
Suddenly he hurt a rumbling sound bubble up beside him. Doc quickly realized that it was the sound of Mike chuckling. And not a hearty chuckle like you would give someone after they tell a joke. It was warmer, more affectionate.
Doc couldn't help but snap his gaze up in surprise. Thatcher met his gaze, a smile plastered across his face as he continued to chuckle. After a few moments he lifted his free hand and scratched the back of his neck, "is that so? Our base doctor has fallen for the likes of this grumpy old man?"
Doc felt his face heat up again and he knew it was turning red as he broke eye contact. Mike quickly moved his free hand off his neck to gently poke at Gustave's forehead, "what, you're gonna clam up now? You haven't heard the rest of what I'm saying yet."
The other man caved and looked back up to hear out what Thatcher still had to say, his head swirling with embarrassment. Mike raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly, "once we get out of these bloody cuffs, we can go out to eat, what say you?"
"You mean...like a date?" Doc asked slowly.
Mike smirked even more, "is it?"
Doc swallowed his anxiety and nodded confidently, "yes. I'd like to go on a date with you."
Thatcher turned his smirk into a grin and pulled his cuffed arm so Doc was jerked closer to him. Their faces were now only a few inches apart when the taller man said, "then let's get this off already." He said in a low voice.
Doc felt his face turn red yet again and nodded slowly. The pair stood up and got back to their search, now even more motivated to free themselves.
Renewed from their conversation, they finally found the key in the most logical place a ket would be--on the ridge of the door frame right above the front entrance. Doc and Thatcher agreed to never talk about this event, especially the key location, again.
Thatcher promptly tracked down Bandit who was reading in his room and threw the cuffs at his head with a few choice words. Bandit, the mellow man he was, only smirked as Mike verbally tore him to bits. Luckily Doc didn't have to treat the German for any physical wounds.
"Yes, yes, I get it, you can stop now, Thatcher. But I want to know something, did Doc tell you what he needed to say?" Bandit asked eagerly.
Thatcher glared at the German before stepping back to where Doc stood and roughly put his arm around the other man's waist. He pulled Gustave close as Thatcher glared daggers at Bandit, "aye, he did. And if you excuse us," he stopped himself to lean down to capture Doc in a kiss.
Gustave didn't hesitate, he leaned back, a childish sense of excitement blooming in his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he kissed someone.
Thatcher slowly leaned away and finished his sentence, "We have a dinner to get to." Bandit let out a quiet cackle and gestured toward the door for them to get going. Thatcher glared at the German one last time before walking out with Doc, his arm never leaving the other man's waist.