Chapter Text
“Thanks for helping with the masks today, Jacket,” Sydney chimed in the common area, fingers linked with the silent marauder. She looked him in the eye and wiggled flirtatiously.
“Can you believe these two?” Sokol was hunched over on the L-shaped sofa, one foot atop his knee so he could rest a clipboard in his lap. He was working on a set of schematics but rolled his eyes when Sydney and Jacket strolled by. They were holding hands, his face indifferent as always, and hers with a sly smile. "They've been going out long enough- I thought they'd be past this bullshit."
Beside Sokol was Wolf, flipping through the channels. He looked over at the couple uncomfortably, judgingly. Sydney stood on the tips of her toes to plant a soft kiss on Jacket’s thin lips. Wolf shivered violently and went back to flipping through the channels, much more rapidly now.
“I really enjoyed that,” said the voice on Jacket’s micro-cassette player as he clicked it.
“Gahh, get out, get out, get out!!” shouted Wolf, unable to bear the affectionate display. Jacket turned and stared blankly at him, eyes ever half-closed in what everyone assumed was a severe case of resting bitch face. Sydney smirked and bit her lip, knowing she was getting on Wolf’s nerves. “C’mon, Jacket, let’s go drink a milkshake with two straws.” She tugged Jacket along by the hand and headed outside towards the Longfellow.
“Damn!” Wolf cursed. “Even Jacket has more game than me, and he can’t even hold a conversation!”
“Maybe that is your downfall, Wolfie,” Sokol joked in his thick accent.
“What are you saying?” The Swede squinted and turned off the television projector, deciding there was nothing good on.
“Nothing,” Sokol shrugged as he wrote down measurements on his graph paper. “You’re just, eh, energetic.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” said Rust, walking into the room. He wiped grease from his hands with an old rag before sticking it in his back pocket. His heavy boots resounded as he crossed the floor before letting himself fall onto the couch beside Sokol, comfortably propped up on one elbow. “What’s the word, boys?”
“Wolf can’t get a girlfriend,” said Sokol without looking up from his clipboard. Wolf punched him hard on the shoulder. Sokol flinched and held back a devilish laugh.
“Don’t you have a wif-”
Sokol elbowed Rust sharply. The gang did not discuss Wolf’s personal life much. As a matter of fact, Wolf did have a wife, as well as children, but after the episode which lead to his joining the Payday Gang, a divorce was finalized and she made sure he could not get into touch with her or the children again.
“Uh,” Rust paused, trying to move on. “Well, I tell you one thing, Wolf, gettin’ chicks is easy.”
“Really?” asked Wolf, perking up a bit.
Rust pushed up the sleeve of his black tee and revealed a heart tattoo. “This one’s for Rachel,” he said flexing. Pulling up the other sleeve, he showed off an anchor. “Robin- real party girl.” He stretched down the collar of his shirt to show the name “ROXANNE” written across his collarbone. “Serious hottie, that Roxanne.”
“Got a thing for R’s?” asked Sokol.
“R’s are cool, kid. As in, Rust,” he emphasized in his gruff voice.
Wolf looked in amazement at the ink.
“I know more than my fair share of ladies,” bragged the biker. “I could get you a date if you’re up to it.”
“I’m up to it!” Wolf said, jumping to his feet.
“Easy tiger,” chuckled Rust. “I’ll call around- see what I can do.” He stood and patted Wolf on the back. Pulling the rag from his back pocket, he left for the garage to continue his work. Wolf beamed towards Sokol who looked happy for him. Wolf plopped down on the sofa again and turned back on the projector.