Work Text:
Drista rifled through the desk drawer, pushing aside the scraps of wire and various tools piled inside. Heaving a frustrated sigh, she shouted over her shoulder, “TUBBO!”
“Yeah?” His response was soft and muffled through the walls despite also shouting. Probably out in the living room waiting for the others.
“Where’s my screwdriver?”
“What screwdriver?”
She growled under her breath before shouting back. “My favorite screwdriver! You know, the one with the black and green handle and the chip in the head?”
“OH, That one! It’s in the toolkit under my bed! The red one, not the gray one.”
“Why the hell is it there?” Tubbo didn’t respond. Distantly, she heard the sound of someone inputting their security code, followed by the slam of a door and several shouts of joy. Looks like the rest of the boys were back. As she made her way to Tubbo’s side of the warehouse, a sudden thud followed by groans of pain echoed from the front room. Curious, she poked her head out from the hallway.
“Jesus christ, what did you two do?”
Ranboo was lying flat on his back, arms curled around his stomach as he wheezed for breath. Tubbo laid next to him, a large red mark prominent on his forehead as he cradled his nose. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tommy mumbled something about being too tired to deal with this and wandered off. Seated cross-legged on the kitchen counter, Purpled snickered as he fiddled with a wad of bills. No doubt an extra score from the earlier job.
“Dumbass took a running leap at Ranboo and headbutted him in the gut.” Purpled sounded absolutely delighted. Both Ranboo and Tubbo groaned.
Drista rolled her eyes at the dramatics and went back to her screwdriver search. Boys.