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When Graves and his partner stayed in Piltover, it usually wasn’t for a job. If they decided to rob somebody it was for the hell of it and not because someone else told them to. This time things were different.
The tip was shady and from an even shadier figure- but from what Graves knew, the guy hiring them was a zaunite. As much as he maybe didn’t want to be, Graves was very aware of how shifty Zaun could be. He’d been hesitant to take them up on it but T.F had seemed all too eager.
Mainly because they’d been hired to rob Jayce Giopara.
That name meant Jack shit to Graves, but T.F knew more about this kind of stuff. So, he trusted his partner when he said that this guy was loaded. Definitely worth the effort. Having the opportunity to steal from him and then being paid for it on top was going to leave them rich.
So that left them here, on the man’s balcony. The place looked promisingly fancy- the walls were practically all windows and Malcolm could see plenty of shiny… things around the room they were aiming to scavenge. Only trouble was that the doors to the balcony were locked .
Honestly maybe he deserves to be robbed, because what kind of freak locks their balcony?
Well, this Jason guy or whatever his name was, apparently. Graves couldn’t care less, growing antsy the more time he had to spend waiting for T.F to pick the lock. Being out in the open knowing he and Tobias stuck out like a sore thumb while trying to rob someone was not exactly a stress free situation. The only thing stopping Malcolm from panicking over the possibility of arrest was the fact that they were so high up the enforcers on the ground couldn’t see them.
That didn’t make waiting any less boring though. The brown haired man finds himself tapping his foot impatiently, the urge to take out a cigar growing more by the second. He’s about to reach into his pockets before he’s caught off guard by a frustrated groan from beside him.
“Shit.” T.F says simply, standing up from where he’d been knelt by the lock. He brushes any dust off his clothes and re-adjusts his hat (fucking dandy) before explaining. “The damn thing won’t budge.”
“Are you sure you’re not just bad at picking locks?” Malcolm grumbles, causing T.F to roll his eyes. “Why don’t ya do some of your fancy card magic on it?” It’s meant to be a tease but with how long they’d been standing around, he hopes maybe it was a genuine possibility.
That gains him an irritated sigh from his husband. The man folding his arms as he turns to glare at the other. He gestures wildly as he says. “You know that ain’t how it works! I’d like to see you do better-“
The shorter man fixes him with a deadpan glare before, with no warning, ramming his side into the door at full force. As T.F realises what’s happening, he moves to pull the other back, just a second too late. The doors swing open and leaves Graves to tumble through gracelessly with a pained oof as he hits the floor.
T.F is still standing with his arms outstretched, wide-eyed before glancing down to his partner. Graves groans from where he lays face down on the polished floor of the lab, which is enough for T.F to stare, unamused as he steps over the man’s huge sprawling body. Once inside, he turns around and offers the other man his hand as he pushes himself up. The black haired man can’t help but chuckle as he watches Malcolm brush himself off, with a disgruntled expression. He sighs “I’d say you’re a moron for that but it got the job done.”
“Damn right. This better be worth it.” He clenches his eyes shut and puts a hand to his head, making a pained sound “I’m gonna regret that.” T.F laughs boldly in response
“Not once we’re rich, Hotshot.” He gestures out to the room, which is cluttered with various gadgets that Malcolm frankly couldn’t name the function of if his life depended on it, but it looks valuable- that’s what matters. “We’re here for some specifics but all this?” he barks a laugh “Is free reign.”
Malcolm can’t help but smile at his husband’s enthusiasm, but the pain thrumming through his side makes it a bit harder to be as excited. He looks around the room, unsure of how they were supposed to single anything out in all this mess. For such a supposedly renowned scientist his lab sure was a mess. “So what are we looking for then?”
“Um, hex gems? You know- those blue shiny things.” He says dismissively as he begins to rummage through the various blueprints and components scattered across the desks. He’s already pocketing whatever he can get his hands on, so Malcolm thinks maybe he should get started. It’s all too easy to get distracted, looking around mesmerised before something, as T.F said, blue and shiny, catches his eye. Definitely looks like Hextech if he’s ever seen it.
He walks over slowly, pushing aside the various objects around it. It looks enough like a gem, round and smooth with a soft glow that leaves him fascinated. He picks it up tentatively examining it in his grasp. It swirls in different shades of blue and purple- and even if it wasn’t what they needed he certainly wouldn’t mind snagging it for himself. For verification, he calls over to his partner “Hey, Fate- I think I found one.”
The other man perks up, discarding whatever he’d been rummaging through before in order to walk over. He leans over Graves’ shoulder and can’t help but grin widely, clapping his partner on the back as he says “That looks about right, now hurry up and grab whatever else you can-”
The two men had been too enraptured by the gemstone to notice the sound of the door behind them clicking as it opened, nor did they hear the footsteps approaching them from behind. The only thing they did hear was the sound of mechanical whirring followed by an unrecognised voice yelling “What the fuck are you doing?!”
Their eyes widen, startled as they both whip around in unison only to come face to face with a hammer? Gun? Thing? Graves isn’t entirely sure- but it’s glowing and aimed right at his face and he doesn’t care to find out, lifting his hands in surrender, hex gem still clasped in it. He looks up to make eye contact with the man, meeting an expression more irritated than furious or panicked.
Nervously Malcolm grins “Robbing you? It’s pretty obvious.” In his peripheral vision he sees T.F roll his eyes, and shake his head disappointedly. He pinches the bridge of his nose and Graves thinks he hears ‘oh for luck’s sake, Mal’ before the other man is pulling out a blue card. In the blink of an eye, he’s behind the stranger. It catches him completely off guard, lowering his weapon as he jumps to the side, and fires a shot in panic.
Graves watches as a bright blue blast of light scorches a hole in the wall and decides he doesn’t exactly want to be on the receiving end. He quickly pockets the gem and gets his hands on Destiny, aiming her straight for the guy’s face before Tobias yells
“Don’t get ahead of yourself Mal-“ He chastises, reaching a hand out as if to placate. He gestures with a finger to the other man as he explains “The employer says he doesn’t want this to get ugly- The man of progress stays alive.”
The man- who Graves supposes must be Jayce- looks confused at that, brows furrowing. He lowers the weapon completely, it now resting in one hand by his side. He puts his other hand on his hip, posture becoming weirdly relaxed as he turns around to face T.F. “I’m sorry, your employer? You were hired to rob me?”
Tobias, realising he’d said too much, doesn’t bother trying to lie, simply replying “Yessir- and he’s willing to pay a hefty sum so we’ll be on our way-“ unexpectedly to both Jayce and Malcolm, he whips out a glowing yellow card from his sleeve, and flings it Jayce’s way.
And when he easily swerves out of the way, it hits Graves square in the chest.
Not exactly ideal.
T.F stumbles, having planned to grab his partner and run after leaving Jayce stunned, but of course that hadn’t gone to plan. He catches himself before he can fall and simply stares at his frozen partner, then back to Jayce. The man in question looks absolutely fascinated, taking a step towards Malcolm and waving a hand in front of his face. When the man doesn’t move, Jayce simply laughs, moving to push the other-
Which springs T.F into action, the taller man grabbing Jayce’s arm and pulling him back with a stern yell. “Don’t fuckin’ touch him.”
Jayce simply stares at him for a moment before raising a brow and asking. “What did you do?”
T.F hisses through his teeth grimacing guiltily before he tries to explain. Before he can get a word out however, he’s swiftly cut off. The magic wears off and leaves Malcolm unfrozen and, once he gains his bearings, also pissed. He yells angrily. “What the hell, Tobias?!”
Immediately T.F’s attention snaps away from Jayce and back to his partner, relief only showing on his face for a split second before it is swiftly overtaken by offence. “How many times do I have to tell you- it’s Twisted Fate!”
Before they can continue their bickering, they’re both interrupted by near hysterical laughter from the other man in the room. He makes a show of wiping a tear from his eye as he says between laughs “I’m sorry- your name is Twisted Fate?! ”
T.F scowls, opening his mouth to argue, but Malcolm quickly interjects, smugly. “No- his name is Tobias. Twisted Fate is a stupid, pretentious alias-“
Face flushed with anger he fires back “Well I think it’s cool!” He marches up to his husband and glares down at him, the other man staring up to meet his eyes. T.F jabs him in the chest and continues. “And I also think it would be great if we could get on with robbing this bastard-“
He shouts- gesturing to Jayce, who was standing at the side simply watching, surprised to be dragged into the couple’s quarrel. Readjusting his grip on his hammer, he sighs, stating “I don’t think you’re going to rob me successfully, you’re not exactly doing a good job so far.” His overconfident speech leaves Malcolm and Tobias to glare at him, boredly. “You know I’m the Man of Progress right? I could call the enforcers and they’d come running-“
The mention of enforcers gives them pause, Malcolm’s mind already conjuring images of the Locker. T.F seems to notice the sudden tension in his husband’s shoulders, stepping in front of him almost protectively. He lifts his hands to Jayce as if trying to calm a spooked animal as he says “No need for that, just give us one hexgem and we’ll be on our way.”
Now that catches Jayce off guard, his face taking on a look of intrigue. “…Who did you say your employer was?”
Tobias frowns, lowering his hands and shrugging, “I didn’t say shit about the employer.”
The scientist hums in consideration before swinging his hammer-gun (seriously what the fuck is that thing?) back up to aim at the two other men. They both flinch, stepping back as Jayce shoots them a smug grin. “No you didn’t, but you will.”
T.F looks to Malcolm, who looks pleadingly back at him then nods to the hammer. This causes Tobias to grumble loudly, like a disgruntled teen as he drops his hands to his sides and explains. “Fine. He’s some Zaunite- mostly made of metal. They call him Mechanical Harold or somethin’ of the like.”
Jayce’s eyes immediately widened with recognition, groaning in frustration and bringing a hand to drag down his face. “Of course Viktor would pull something like this. Petty bastard.”
T.F and Graves share a look of confusion before looking back to Jayce expectantly. He sighs and explains. “Viktor- also known as The Machine Herald. Is my ex-turned-enemy. And he likes to be a little shit and trash my lab every once in a while.”
He stares at them deadpan, but the two men aren’t sure how to respond, causing Jayce to groan exasperatedly as he continues to rant. “He hired you to fuck with me! What are you not getting?!”
Immature as ever, T.F laughs at his phrasing, Malcolm rolling his eyes though he also finds the crudeness of the statement amusing. As though he can’t help himself, T.F replies “Well I wouldn’t be opposed to fucking with you but I’m a married man!”
“You know what, I don't really know why he hired you- considering you’re a couple of man-children.” Jayce argues back, folding his arms and looking more annoyed by the second. “Just, whatever- take the gem I have plenty. Just do me a favour?”
Graves raises a brow, his partner looking equally intrigued- both unsure of if this was a genuine request. So, the shorter man can’t help but pry “Like what? Cos we may do it for a price-“
The scientist rolls his eyes, and pinches the bridge of his nose in a way that reminds Malcolm of T.F when he’s reaching his limit of Graves’ typical stupidity. But before he can get too lost in the thought, Jayce asks “Just tell him to show up himself next time- He’s avoiding me and I don’t understand why he’s going through this much effort to do it.”
He pulls out a chair at his desk and slumps into it, dropping the hammer unceremoniously by his side. His expression begins to look more dejected, tone suddenly sounding almost solemn. And- by all means, Malcolm is very aware that a lifetime of thievery and murder doesn’t exactly make him seem like a sympathetic person. That and the fact he really isn’t one- yet he can’t help but feel somewhat sorry for the poor guy. Getting robbed by your ex was one thing, getting robbed by your ex by proxy because he’s giving you the silent treatment? Even worse.
It certainly didn’t help that having a petty, distant ex who changed their name in favour of a stupid sounding alias was awfully familiar. Malcolm can’t help but frown, side glancing to T.F then back to Jayce. He chews the inside of his cheek, debating on what to do. It wasn’t exactly reasonable to comfort the person you were robbing.
Regardless, that’s what he finds himself doing. Hesitantly, he approaches Jayce, gun lowered and free hand outstretched. In the corner of his eye, he sees T.F watching him, alarmed. He gently places his hand on Jayce’s shoulder, causing the other man to jolt and push himself away from Graves. The chair screeches as it slides along the floor, and Malcolm winces knowing his attempt could have certainly gone better.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Jayce yells, looking half frightened and half frustrated. He reaches behind him, wrapping his fingers against the handle of the hammer slowly, as if unsure. Before Graves can try to explain himself- his partner interjects.
“Yeah Mal,” his tone quickly shifts into anger as he repeats “What the fuck are you doing?!”
“I uh-“ Malcolm begins, then realises he does not in fact, know what he’s doing. He just felt bad for the guy- he thinks he can confidently say he’d been in a similar position, and it wasn’t every day the people they were robbing gave their stuff over willingly (without being threatened first that is). Surely it couldn’t hurt to give something back- they owe him for his discretion at least, right?
So he sighs, trying to find the right words but what comes out instead is. “Look- I’m just saying I know a thing or two about shitty exes.” He leans in and whispers behind his palm to Jayce “Especially ones with stupid names.”
This earns him an offended and whiny “Hey!” From T.F which he can’t help but roll his eyes at as he once again tries to reassure Jayce.
“Anywho- my ex isn’t my enemy.” He glances to his side and as T.F clears his throat, gaining his attention. He gestures to their wedding rings and Graves’ mutters a small ‘oh’ as he elaborates with a grin “He also hasn’t been my ex for a while-“
“We’re MARRIED. Malcolm.” T.F protests. “I think we’re past just ‘not exes’” He urges, air quoting childishly. Graves shakes his head.
“Same difference.” He shrugs. “Point being we love each other.” Saying it out loud is somewhat embarrassing but he doesn’t let it show.
Tobias seems satisfied at that, folding his arms and giving a single nod and hum in agreement. Graves smiles at that before remembering that Jayce is still there, looking quite bored by now.
So he gets on with it” “What I’m trying to say is you have a chance! And I’ll give this Harold guy a stern talking to.” He pauses for a moment, bringing a hand to stroke through his beard as he thinks. “But only if you give us the gem and keep quiet.”
Jayce pauses for a moment before shrugging. “Sure. Any enforcer who isn’t Caitlyn would probably blame it on Zaun anyway- and you’re not zaunites.” Graves doesn’t know if that’s an insult or a compliment, but T.F seems relieved to hear it. Always so vain.
“So we’ll be on our way, I take it?” Twisted Fate pipes up, turning to Malcolm. He knows full well what this means is T.F is going to shift somewhere while he has to walk down who knows how many flights of stairs- but he nods nonetheless.
“Wait-“ Jayce says suddenly, causing T.F to pause mid-way through pulling a card. “Tell him I miss him.” He looks like admitting it physically pains him, Graves isn’t judging. You couldn’t pay him enough to admit he missed Fate during his time in the locker, and Graves has done a lot of questionable things for money.
“Can do.” Twisted Fate responds on behalf of the two of them before turning to his partner and saying. “Kochanie- I’ll be waiting in the alley to the left, okay?”
Before Malcolm can even confirm he’d heard that- T.F disappears in a flash of blue and leaves him standing awkwardly while Jayce stares, confused. He points to where the other man had been stood and before he can say anything Graves asks through a grimace,
“Can you show me the exit?” He rethinks to how high the balcony was and then to how many flights of stairs that would mean before continuing. “ And the elevator if you have one.”
They don’t talk after that, surprisingly enough. The closest thing to conversation is Jayce’s disgruntled mumbling as he shows the thief the way out. Graves spends the entire elevator ride ( thanking the Gods there was one) thinking about what he was going to say to Tobias.
He was trying to be grown up about it but he was also willing to admit that, knowing the other man could easily have teleported him out too, pissed him off. It was rude! That’s all. It totally wasn’t because Graves was worried Tobias was mad at him. Not at all.
After probably less than a minute of humming to himself and impatiently tapping his foot on the way down- he quickly rushes out of the front door and briskly makes his way to the aforementioned alley.
Once he turns the corner, he’s met with the sight of T.F leaning against the wall, twisting and twirling a card between and over his fingers, as expected, really. Graves marches over to the other man, who perks up at the sight of him, standing up and approaching. However, in his annoyance, Graves gives a light shove to the other, causing him to glare down, offended.
“What was that for?” He asks, petulantly. Graves folds his arms and huffs in an equally childish manner, grumbling.
“Me first. Why’d ya leave me there?” It comes out whinier than he’d like so he tacks on. “Be grateful there was an elevator cos If I’d had to walk down I would’ve marched right back to the hotel. See how you like being left behind.”
“Well if you really didn’t want to get down yourself you should have thought about that before!” He chastises in a patronising tone Malcolm has heard far too many times before. “You should have thought twice before gettin’ all friendly with the target.”
“Woah now! He was not the target.” Malcolm stresses, pulling the gem out of his pocket and pointing at it aggressively as he holds it in front of T.F’s face. “THIS was the target. And we got that Scott-free.”
T.F shrugs. “I s’pose you’re right, for once.” He pushes Malcolm’s hand away from his face “All we have to do is play at being couples therapists for a while, if we’re keeping up our end that is.”
Graves rolls his eyes. “Of course we are. We owe him.” He gestures flippantly as he rambles “Now, you’re such a snake you’d probably be fine letting it go but frankly I feel bad for the guy-“
T.F swiftly cuts him off. “Mal, darlin’” he places a hand on the shorter man’s shoulder, stating, condescendingly “I’ve lost count of how many people we’ve murdered and,or, stolen from- Why the change of heart?”
“Why are you asking?” Malcolm retorts, not exactly eager to admit his sudden development of empathy. He uncrosses his arms to place them on his hips. “Jealous?”
“Psh, I’ve got nothin’ to worry about” The other man scoffs. “In what world would I be jealous of Jayce Giopara.” He gestures flippantly. “The guy’s practically just a show pony.” He then gestures to himself, hands raised up then down, brushing the fabric of his coat. “Besides- he’s got nothing on my style- who wears a faux fur collar inside Malcolm?.”
“You’re talking about the man who locked his balcony- are you really surprised? Guy’s a weirdo.” He shoots back, before relenting. “You’re right though you’ve got nothing to worry about. I'm not letting you get away from me again, you slimy bastard. ‘Specially not in favour of some Piltie.”
Tobias makes a show of twirling a stray strand of hair and batting his eyelashes teasing “is it cos you loooove me?”
“If I say yes will you hurry up and get us to where we need to be?”
T.F simply rolls his eyes and chuckles at their familiar antics, handing Malcolm a blue card and before he can blink, they’re only a short distance away from the elevator meant to take them down to Zaun.
As much as Graves would have rather shifted straight there, he understands that with the amount of times Tobias had had to do so already- it would probably be too demanding. That didn’t make him any less apprehensive about walking through the levels of the city, though. Nothing but reminders of times he’d rather forget.
They pay for entry rather than sneaking their way in, knowing that sometimes Malcolm preferred to play a teeny bit safer in Piltover. Too many enforcers around, and the threat of imprisonment always lingered.
Thankfully the trip was actually much faster than Graves thought it would be. Tobias however, knew what to expect, simply staring through the windows as they made their descent. Most of the conversation was made up of Tobias trying to explain the route they’d have to take to get to Emberflit alley, though Graves’ mind kept drifting.
He was no stranger to scripting conversations in his head before he could ever say them out loud, he never did have a way with words- not like Tobias. But the other man hadn’t seemed very eager to join in on what Graves had agreed to- leaving him somewhat lost.
He was only startled out of thought when the lift came to a sudden, screechy halt, the doors then opening out to the upper levels. Malcolm couldn’t prevent the full-body shiver he felt at the all too familiar, suffocating and polluted air. Despite knowing it wouldn’t do much, he pulls the front of his cape over his mouth and nose. It makes him feel slightly better, he’ll take it.
His other hand fumbles for Tobias’, who doesn’t hesitate in clasping their fingers together before turning to the other as they step into Zaun. “Are you okay, Mal?” He asks, trying to keep any concern out of his voice.
“Yeah.” He grunts. “‘M fine.” He wasn’t going to say out loud that he was nervous, in fact he’d rather die. But he certainly was- mainly about generally being in Zaun, and partially because he didn’t know how he was supposed to talk sense into this Herald guy.
“Okay.” T.F sounds like he doesn’t believe him and Graves wasn’t going to argue. “Stay close.” As much as he didn’t enjoy being ordered around- he’d really been planning to anyway. So he stays silent, tagging along just behind T.F as they weave their way through the streets.
Graves wouldn’t call Zaun familiar, because familiar implied at least some sense of comfort. It was more along the lines of, knowing what to expect from it. Sure, most of the time he’d been there had been spent in confinement ( or worse ) but it gave him a pretty good impression of the place.
So when they eventually get past all the glaring neon signs, and lights flared through the smog and arrive at Emberflit Alley- Graves is somewhat surprised. It looks just like any other incredibly dingey, decrepit streets. And the house they stop at is, well, a house- not exactly what he expected for a guy made of metal.
Graves wasn’t sure if T.F had gotten the job straight from the guy or simply found him through a tip from someone else ( to his credit, he was a charmer, could probably get the right information out of anyone if he played his cards right- figuratively and literally) but he trusted that this was the right place regardless.
Malcolm watches from behind as the other man knocks on the door. He’s not really expecting anyone to respond- thinking of it more as a formality. After trying maybe twice, Twisted Fate gives up with a sigh, trying to push the door open to no avail.
He steps to the side and gestures to the door with both arms staring down at Malcolm. The shorter man can only raises brow in confusion as T.F nods to the door, explaining.”We both know I’m built like a stack of toothpicks. You’ve gotta work your magic here.”
“Funny coming from you. Can’t we just shift inside?” He asks, half teasingly and half because his arm is still aching from the last doors he’d rammed into, and he wasn’t too eager to do it again.
“Malcolm. It’s a rickety wooden door.” He says despite it being unrelated to the question. Graves isn’t sure if he’s saying it because he doesn’t want to admit he can’t shift inside- or if it’s because he doesn’t want to say he’s too lazy to, but regardless he knows this means no. So, trying to avoid bruising his other shoulder, this time he lifts a leg and kicks with a grunt.
He half expects his foot to go right through the planks, but instead the door swings open- hitting the wall with a loud smack but seemingly not alerting anyone inside. It was quite dark- leaving the two men feeling somewhat apprehensive.
The place appears to be empty but neither of them call out, just in case they find someone they aren’t looking for. Quietly as he can, Graves grabs hold of Destiny- still feeling on edge as they both traipse down a staircase into what was presumably their employer’s living space.
Even as they get to the bottom of the stone steps, it’s practically pitch black- aside from a dim light up ahead, through an empty doorframe. As they get closer they hear what sounds like muffled yelling, though the voice sounds distorted, or synthesised. Regardless of what they were interrupting, the two men enter the room ahead and are met with the sight of, presumably, the Machine Herald.
Upon their entry, he turns to face them, startled. Or at least Graves thinks he’s startled- he can’t tell thanks to his expressionless metal face- the only visible features being two glowing orange eyes. He’s standing in what appears to be his kitchen, where broken glass and what Graves thinks is milk all over both him and the floor.
His eyes land on Malcolm first- (which makes sense considering he was brandishing a ridiculously huge gun) or at least he thinks they do, lacking pupils and all. It makes him feel somewhat scrutinised. The guy was easily at least two feet taller than him, not exactly something he was used to seeing, and the bulky armoured metal body didn’t exactly serve to make him less intimidating.
But thankfully his attention is drawn away when T.F clears his throat and states. “We got you the hexgem.” He gestures to Malcolm who stares dumbly for a moment before remembering he had it. After a few seconds of fumbling for it in his pocket, he brandishes the little blue sphere clearly. “Now it’s time to pay up.”
The machine man gestures flippantly with one gloved hand, grumbling in a thickly accented voice “Yes yes, In due time. If you couldn’t tell I’m in the middle of something.” He snatches it from T.F’s grip- much to his surprise, before unceremoniously placing it on the counter.
The man seems far too unamused for someone whose house has just been broken into, and far too nonchalant about being technically held at gunpoint.. one might say, robotic but that’s the obvious choice. Malcolm lets his curiosity get the better of him as he asks “Why aren’t you more bothered by us sneaking in?”
The machine herald has his back to Graves, fetching a cloth from a cupboard as he shrugs, beginning to wipe up the liquid on the floor. “You two are petty thieves. I owe you money. It was to be expected.” Another shrug as he tosses the now soaking cloth into the sink unceremoniously. “Not that I was going to answer the door either way.”
Graves can’t help but feel somewhat undignified by the herald’s description of them, protesting with a whiny “Hey.” He folds his arms with a huff. “We are not petty. And I’ll have you know we murder too.” That probably wasn’t something he should admit so openly but this guy really didn’t look like the type to mind.
“Yes yes,” the herald says, not looking away from the mess, much to Graves’ annoyance. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I’m in a bit of a predicament..” He opens a cupboard to take out a dustpan and brush as he sweeps up the glass, before explaining. “Once I’m done cleaning, I will pay you. Feel free to leave, having you standing around watching me feels quite invasive.”
“We broke into your house and you draw the line at us watching you clean your kitchen?” Twisted Fate asks, sounding genuinely confused. The robotic man simply nods and hums in confirmation as he walks over to his trash can and empties the shards into it. The conversation seems to stop there as he continues wiping down any surfaces still wet with the milk.
And so, Graves clears his throat awkwardly, beginning “Well.” He fidgets absentmindedly with his fingers. “In the meantime- the guy you wanted us to rob? Yeah uh- he has a message?”
Tobias sighs and shakes his head as he realises Graves was serious about keeping up his end of the deal. Unfortunate for him since he’d have to stand there and listen to him fumble with his words. Though, it seemed the mechanical man before them wasn’t particularly interested.
They can almost hear him rolling his eyes as he groans. “Whatever the defender has to say- I don’t want to hear it.” He pauses, pondering for a moment before doubling down. “And I’ll pay you extra to go back and tell him to stuff it.”
Tobias looks over to Graves who frankly appears lost, clearly not having expected such a reaction. He hadn’t either but regardless he finds himself contemplating taking the offer, until Graves continues, sternly.
“Listen here, I don’t know anythin’ about what happened between you two, but he was expecting to be robbed by you.” He replies, pointing to the other, “The guy didn’t even put up a fight! Least you could do is show up next time.”
The herald finally shows some semblance of emotion- that being annoyance as he snapped “I would have! But I-“ he cuts himself off, shying away in what, had he had a face, Graves would assume is embarrassment. It intrigues both him and Tobias, the other man piping up.
“But you what?” He asks, suspicious.
“Yeah.” Graves backs him up. “Finish the sentence, don’t get shy now.”
The response they get is mumbled almost inaudibly, the metal obviously doesn’t give any expression but both of the other men can tell it almost pains him to admit it as he says. “I needed to fix my microwave.”
Now- Graves had never owned one but he knew what a microwave was, because they were one of Piltover’s newer innovations. What he didn’t know about was why in runeterra, it would constitute as a reason to hire a couple of criminals to torment your ex.
And it wasn’t like either of them were ever the type to question someone who employed them but after hearing the other side of things, Graves especially wanted to see it through. So he continues to interrogate. “What does your microwave have to do with anythin’?”
“The gem was needed to power it.” The machine herald says stiffly, almost defensively as he wanders over to the device, swinging open the back to reveal a spherical port. Presumably for the gem to be placed in.
Malcolm was almost ready to accept that as an explanation until Twisted Fate also began to pry. “That doesn’t explain why you had to hire us- Not that we’re complaining!”
This causes the other man to groan, his exasperation only emphasised by the mechanical filter. “It would break routine.” He says simply before he elaborates “I usually have a cup of sweet milk in the morning and without it I’m not equipped to put up with The defender’s arrogance.” He still seems humiliated as he says it, understandably so considering that was probably the oddest and most pathetic reasoning either of the men had ever heard. They refrain from laughing as the man continues. “I couldn’t heat the milk without my microwave. I tried using my death ray, but..” he laments as he gestures to the wet cloth he’d left in the sink, as if it was self explanatory. “It did not go to plan.”
Through stifled chuckles, and punctuated with a slap to his knee, Graves asks “So you-“ he’s cut off by a wheeze as he fails to contain his laughter. “You didn’t want to go because you get grouchy without your milk?”
That gets a rise out of their employer, his hands clenched into fists as he snaps. “Look- you don’t understand.” Quite amusingly- in his frustration, he pinches the flat surface where the bridge of his nose would be as he continues. “Jayce is very annoying.”
“Oh we could very much gather.” Tobias groans, thinking back to how cocky he was with his threats of enforcers. “And don’t deduct from our payment for this- but that doesn’t make it any less rude of you to avoid him.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he drawls sarcastically. He doesn’t seem to have anything else to say, seemingly ready to pay- but Graves suddenly remembers the last part of Jayce’s message to the herald.
“Wait a second-“ he blurts. “He misses you. He, uh, wanted you to know that.” He trails off, nervously. He hoped the Herald would be understanding about at least that- mainly since Jayce had looked so dejected as he said it.
The herald, instead, appears startled, clearly having not expected that. There’s a moment of quiet before he hums in consideration, responding.”…I can fix my microwave now.”
Which Graves takes as ‘he’ll see me soon since my problem is solved’ Mentally, he pats himself on the back. Not only did he get the gem but he also successfully passed on the message he agreed to, Good job Malcolm Graves!
After that- they finally get paid what they were promised. They didn’t know where the robot criminal guy was getting his money- but they weren’t going to question it because, well, it’s money- and it’s theirs now.
As much as Tobias hadn’t cared for playing messenger pigeon, it was worth the awkwardness if only because it put things into perspective. At least he and Malcolm weren’t so petty that they’d avoid each other over a cup of milk.
Sure there was the one time he’d shifted somewhere else just to get out of an argument and proceeded to not return for an entire day because he was upset that Graves had caused him to lose one of his hats on a job ( his poor, beautiful hat ) but this wasn’t about that.
Their lifestyle didn’t exactly leave much room for doing good, so witnessing Malcolm do a favour willingly was odd to say the least- but not unpleasant. It was sweet. Or at least Tobias thought it was- he’s biased because he thinks most things about Graves are sweet.
Doesn’t mean he’s not going to tease him about how hung up he was on completing his end of things, though. Such a sap.
Their efforts thankfully didn’t go to waste- because a few days later into their stay in Piltover, the city’s alarms went off signalling some sort of criminal act, not by them this time. Twisted Fate and Graves had been, surprisingly enough, minding their business seated outside a cafe at the time, when the machine herald runs through the streets.
He goes by in a blur, the edges of his cloak singed and third metal arm half-hanging off. Closely behind him, is Jayce with his hammer, screaming something unintelligible.
Once they’d gone past, and the two men can tear their eyes away from the spectacle, Tobias looks over to Graves. The other man looks so happy with himself it’s almost cute.
Fuck it, it is cute. He can admit that. He leans over their table and gives him a chaste kiss which seems to catch him off guard. He laughs softly at the other’s startled expression.
“Good job. Don’t let it go to your head, hotshot.”