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Sniper turned the steering wheel, feeling the tires of his van roll against the dull grey street. He saw matching sidewalks on either side of the pavement, lined with rows old, near identical apartment buildings and sparse trees. Sniper would normally be trembling, so out of his element this deep into the concrete jungle, but Scout’s constant yabbering and occasional directions kept him grounded.
Scout pointed to one of the houses they passed as he kept talking. “See that house? My buddy Joe lives there, man, we caused so much trouble together--turn left--like, one time we covered the principal's office in wrapping paper, we needed Alice to help with that, though--turn right--hey, speaking of which, she used to live over there! Heard she went to college or something--”
The van lurched to a halt with a screech, and Scout was jerked forward, nearly breaking his tiny nose against the dashboard. “What the hell, Snipes?!”
“Bloody squirrels!” Sniper honked the horn as two grey, furry squirrels skittered in circles in front of him. After several more circles, they leaped off the road and Sniper pushed on the gas. “Sorry ‘bout that, love.”
“It’s okay, probably shoulda told ya we’ve got some pretty dumb squirrels around here.”
“Not the first time I’ve had to honk some critter outta my way.”
“Really?” Scout leaned over the armrest. “Like what, kangaroos?”
Sniper’s mouth twitched in amusement. “If I had a buck for every roo I’ve honked at--”
“Including me?”
“Oh, no,” Sniper grinned wider, revealing his sharp canines. “I may call you Roo, but you’re more like a pesky lil’ rabbit.”
“Got a problem with that, babe?” Scout flashed his buck teeth, those adorable little teeth that drove Sniper absolutely crazy. Blushing, Sniper turned back to the road and muttered, “Nope.”
“Good--hey, we’re here! Pull over!”
Sniper tapped on the brakes, slowing down until his van was parked squarely in front of a building with rusty red bricks and a little iron stairway leading up to the door with paint peeling off the edges. It looked far too small for eight brothers and a single mother to live in for eighteen plus years, though Sniper bit back his opinion; he wanted to leave a good impression here, after all.
“Whatcha think?” Scout asked while unfastening his seatbelt. “It might not look like much, but it’s still home sweet home for me.”
“Mm-hm,” Sniper hummed while undoing his seatbelt, He opened the door and slid out while he heard Scout leap out and slam his door shut. Sniper walked around the font of the van while smoothing out his clean red shirt. “Hey, er, Scout, do I look alright?”
Scout laughed. “Snipes, c’mon. Look at you.” He gently steered Sniper’s face towards the van’s side view mirror so they could see both of their faces reflected in it. “You’re clean shaven, wearing ironed clothes, and heck, ya’ even put on some cologne!” Scout leaned towards Sniper’s neck. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d be worried you were trying to dump me and woo my Ma’!”
“Bloody hell, I can hardly keep up with you as a boyfriend. I don’t think I could handle you as a stepson.”
“Anyway, you look fine, Snipes. Hot even. You’ll make the best fucking first impression ever.”
“As your, er, best friend.”
“Yeah…” Scout chewed on the inside of his cheek. Then he gently jabbed Sniper’s ribs. “Let’s--I mean--you ready to go meet her?”
Sniper shrugged to hide his lack of confidence. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Then what are we standing around for?” Scout tugged Sniper away by the collar of his shirt and up the steps to the door. Once Scout let go to ring the doorbell, Sniper fixed the wrinkle in his collar with trembling fingers--meeting new people never failed to make him little more than a bucket of nerves.
They both heard a muffled woman’s voice saying, “Honey, can you get that?”
Both froze, then slowly looked at each other. Sniper, for once, was the one to break the silence. “You don’t think that’s…”
“Aw crap, if he’s here then--” Scout pounded his fist into his other hand. “Wish I brought my bat.”
“M--Maybe it’s not--”
The door opened, and both Scout and Sniper stared at the man behind it.
“You?!” They both cried.
“So it is yo--ACK!!” The man stopped short when Sniper pounced on him and wrestled him onto the floor. Sniper painfully pinched the corner of the man’s mouth while his other hand curled in a fist.
“Hold still so I can knock your teeth out, you bloody wanker!”
“Get him, Snipes, get him!!” Scout cheered.
He would have kept cheering, and Sniper would have punched the other man, or the other man would have lost a few teeth, if a frying pan hadn’t hit them each squarely on the head.
Scout bounced his leg while he kept his hands clasped in his lap. His eyes trailed along the wood grain patterns in the dining table he knew like the back of his bandaged hands. Meanwhile to his left sat Sniper, still rubbing the stinging welt left on his head by the frying pan. If he weren’t in so much pain, he would have growled at the man sitting in front of him, who glared back with familiar disdain.
“Might I ask what are you doing here, bushman?” Spy hissed.
Scout barked, “Uh, hey dumbass, I’m not invisible here!”
Spy huffed. “Apologies, what are you two doing here?”
“That’s my line, you mother fu--”
The scene froze at the sound of Scout’s mother letting the frying pan she held hit her open palm, wielding it like a bat. She sat primly at the head of the table, and held her posture with a dangerous poise. Her fingers tightened over the frying pan handle as she wordlessly swept her gaze over the three men.
“Scout,” She said, “language at the dinner table.”
Scout laced his fingers together and resumed staring at the table. “Sorry, Ma.”
She relaxed her grip and crossed her legs under the table. “Now then, be a dear and introduce us to your boyfriend.”
“R--right, this is--say WHAT?!”
Scout’s mother’s expression softened with confusion and glanced at Sniper, busy biting his lips. “...Isn’t he?”
“How’d you kn…” Scout slowly turned from his mother to Spy, narrowing his eyes. “ You. ”
Spy smirked. “Congratulations, it appears you’ve managed to put some brains into that thick skul--” He suddenly grimaced with a suppressed cry. Scout’s mother bore her eyes straight through him, and Scout and Sniper knew without looking that she was digging the sharp edge of her high heels hard on Spy’s foot.
“M--my apologies, mon cheri,” Spy whimpered.
“Good.” She presumably lifted her foot, judging by Spy’s relieved sigh. “Now no more poking fun at my son under my roof, understand?”
As Spy nodded, Sniper leaned over to Scout and whispered, “Am I dreaming, or did I just see a grown woman single handedly shut the spook up?”
Scout nodded. “First time I’ve actually seen it. I mean, I’ve seen her beat up rude guys before, but never seen her around the mother fucker.”
“I bet she house trained him and everything,” Sniper snickered. Before Scout could laugh out loud, a pointy object jabbed in front of Sniper’s nose. He froze, and looked out of the corner of his eye to see Spy’s scowl.
“Care to repeat that, you filthy bushman?”
Sniper parted his lips to answer, but Scout’s mouth was faster. “Uh...isn’t that a butter knife?”
The knife pulled back, and Sniper relaxed. Now he could get a better look at the unidentified pointy object; a meek butter knife no bigger than his pinkie finger. And seeing that tiny little blade nestled in Spy’s hand--Sniper poorly stifled a laugh while Spy’s cheeks grew warm and he hastily withdrew the knife with a cough. As he suddenly became fascinated with staring at a dishtowel hanging off the edge of the sink, Scout’s mother patted the back of his hand and said, “He was helping me with the dishes before you two came in.”
“Voluntarily?” Sniper raised a brow.
“Yes…?”
“ Him? ” Sniper pointed at Spy’s chest. “This two-faced mongrel--” Horror flashed across his face, and he swallowed the rest of his curses before he said, “I--I apologize for my language, ma’am, I’m just surprised Spy is...willingly helping someone.”
“Yeah,” Scout chimed in, “He’s always sneaking out when it’s his turn to do the dishes back at the base!”
“Is that so…” Out of the corner of her eye, she gave Spy a quick glare before her eyes met Scout’s. “But that can wait. I’m more interested in meeting our guest,” She gestured at Sniper, who sat with his hands clasped neatly in his lap.
“Right, right,” Scout cleared his throat and put a hand on Sniper’s shoulder. “Snipes, this is my Ma. Ma, this is Sni--I mean Mick. Mick Mundy. Everyone calls him Sniper. He’s my--” Scout rubbed his fingertips together. “My boyfriend.”
Sweat percolated on Sniper’s forehead as he shyly extended his hand across the table and said, “Nice to meet you.”
Scout’s mother smiled and firmly clasped her hand around his large one. “The pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart. And a week early, too!”
“What are ya talking about Ma?” Scout asked as Sniper retracted his hand.
“I thought you two weren’t coming until next week!”
“But--I--I coulda sworn--” Scout scratched his chewed down nails against his scalp while chewing on his lower lip. His eyes wavered as he thought, until he sheepishly shrugged, “I...guess I got the dates mixed up?”
Rolling his eyes, Spy’s fingers twitched as if fumbling an invisible cigarette. “Imbecile.”
Scout’s mother narrowed her eyes at Spy. “Jacque, we’ve talked about this.”
Scout and Sniper nearly jumped and stared at Spy. “ Jack? ”
“It is an alias,” Spy explained. What he would do for a cigarette right now. “‘Spy’ is not an inconspicuous name.”
“Oh, and the mask isn’t?” Scout crossed his arms. “Like, totally not suspicious of my Ma hanging out with a slime bag that looks like a bank robber in a suit?”
“Well…” Scout’s mother giggled, “he does steal from the cookie jar sometimes.”
Spy cleared his throat to hide his blush. “I prefer the ‘stealing your heart’ analogy,” This earned a laugh from Scout’s mother, and he relaxed his shoulders as he briefly forgot about Sniper and Scout.
“So what,” Scout interjected, “now you’re here to--to steal--aw fuck it, just ruin me introducing my Ma to my awesome boyfriend?”
“Please, this was all an unfortunate coincidence thanks to your awful ability to keep track of simple dates.” Spy scoffed. Now he crossed his arms, mirroring Scout.
“T--That’s a truck load of bullcrap!”
“But I am correct, no?”
“Well--I--that doesn’t mean I have to like it!!”
“That is the most idiotic counterargument I have ever heard in my entire career. It seems as though spending time with the bushman has lowered your intelligence.”
Sniper clenched his teeth, barely suppressing a snarl. His hand subconsciously ghosted over his pocket where he kept a pocket knife--his kukri would be too unseemly to carry in the middle of a crowded city. It would be so easy to slip the knife out, flick open the blade, reach across the table, and--
And make a literal bloody mess in Scouts’ mother’s kitchen.
Swallowing, Sniper settled on clenching his fists below the table and breathing through his nose. As Scout and Spy bickered, Sniper noticed Scout’s mother staring at the ceiling as she tapped the edge of the frying pan to her chin. How she could hear her own thoughts with all that racket, he did not know. He tapped two fingers on Scout’s arm, and once Scout looked at him, pointed with his eyes at the mother. He prayed he didn’t look too obvious or awkward about it. It was obvious enough for Spy to notice at least--though no surprise there--and all three looked over at Scout’s mother, still thoughtfully gazing upwards.
“Ma?” Scout asked. “You alright?”
She blinked innocently. “Oh? I was just thinking…”
“‘Bout what?”
Casually twirling the frying pan like a baton, she pointed it at Spy. “Let’s just say...that I was married to Ja--Spy. That would make Scout his you-know-what .” Scout cringed, but she continued. “Now let’s say then you,” She pointed it at Scout, “And you ...Mr. Mundy, wasn’t it?”
“Y--You can just call me Mick, ma’am.”
“Right, Mick, say you and my baby got married.” She tugged at one of her jet black curls of hair. “So that’d make you Spy’s son-in-law, right?”
Scout’s eyes bulged.
Sniper’s face paled.
Spy choked on his own saliva.
“Hon? You alright?” Scout’s mother patted Spy’s back.
Spy steeled his eyes at Scout and said, “I--That’s absurd!!”
Scout flung his hands in the air. “Whoa, chill out! Snipes’s my boyfriend, not my fiancée! B-besides, whatcha gonna do about it?!”
“I--I--I refuse being related in any shape or form to that filthy jar man!”
“He’s not yet! Relax!”
“ Yet? ” Spy hissed.
“I--! Uh--um--Well--” Scout’s ears burned so hot they matched his shirt, and Sniper’s cheeks. However, Scout didn’t notice and barked, “Whatever! Like I said, whatcha gonna do about it? Marry my Ma just to stop me?!”
Silence. Not a sound but Scout’s heavy breathing, and the distant rumble of a car passing by outside. The clock hanging above the kitchen entry way ticked slowly, counting down the seconds of stunned silence. As Scout’s muscles barely relaxed, Spy jumped from his seat and headed towards the front door.
Scout craned his neck and barked, “Spy? Where ya--oh no, don’t tell me--!”
Spy stopped and seethed, “It’s your own fault for suggesting it! And for dating that bushman!!”
Scout scrambled out of his seat. “N--Not if I marry Snipes first! And beat ya to the jeweler!! Bet your dumbass doesn’t even know where it is!!!” As he ran after Spy, he didn’t notice his mother and Sniper stand from the table as well.
“Try me!” Spy reached the door and twisted the doorknob. He opened it, ran through, and slammed it behind him, laughing when it smacked Scout in the face. Scout rubbed his sore nose and sprinted past the door while blushing angrily and yelling more insults.
The entire time, Sniper stood still as a dumb statue. His mouth hung open slightly in shock as his brain struggled to comprehend what happened before his eyes. Meanwhile Scout’s mother sighed, put the frying pan on a nearby side table, and properly shut the door. After the lock clicked, she rubbed her hands together as if satisfied with a job well done. “That should do the trick.”
“I--I beg your pardon?”
She calmly brushed a lock of black hair behind her ear as she looked at Sniper. “I figured there’d come a day when my baby brought home a partner when Spy was around, so I came up with a plan long time ago.”
“To...get them out of the house?”
“To let ‘em work off some steam. Don’t worry, the jeweler's closed on Sundays. Neither of our boys will be making any marriage proposals today. But by the time they get back, they should have calmed down enough to be civil.”
“I...see.” Sniper blinked slowly and ran a hand through his hair while he stared at the floor. He barely registered the sound of high heels approaching or the hand pressed lightly against his forehead.
“Are you feeling okay, hon?” She asked. “You’re looking a bit pale…”
“O-oh, I’m fine, ma’am.”
She removed her hand and placed it on her hip. “Then why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”
‘I...I just can’t believe Scout just ran out to...get a wedding ring.” Sniper shyly scratched his ear. “I don’t know if he’s serious or not, we’ve been only dating for half a year.”
“Well, all I can say is this,” She patted Sniper on the shoulder. “Judging on what my baby’s said about you over the phone and what I hear from my Jacque, it sounds like my baby’s happy with you, and loves you to bits.”
“And...and you’re okay with...me...with him? With Scout?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Hon, I’m dating one of the most dangerous men in the world, and my youngest son kills people for a living. One more killer in the family won’t make much of a difference to me.”
Sniper’s mouth went dry as he stared at her, surprised. He clamped his lips shut before he could utter something stupid on his part; he didn’t know what to say to express his immense relief without coming off as awkward. Luckily for him, he didn’t get the chance before Scout’s mother was gently yet firmly pushing him into the living room while chirping, “Since we’ve got some time to kill until our boys get back, why don’t I show you my baby’s baby pictures?”
Despite his frazzled nerves, Sniper had to chuckle at that. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”