What do you think? I think you're an idiot. (Dustin Henderson x Reader)

9: Jazzercise and cracking the code.

Y/n's pov

Hours. We had been searching the mall for hours, at least, that's what it felt like for Dustin, Steve and I.

Spycraft could be pretty boring, we soon found out.

Steve was sitting on the ground at the base of the pillar, twirling his hat around on his finger. He had two small messy braids in the back of his hair that I had insisted on doing for him and that he hadn't figured out how to get out of his hair.

Dustin was crouched beside Steve, his binoculars latched tightly to his face, only leaving once or twice, his eyes, scanning the mob of emotional teenagers. He had on his 'Camp Know Where' hat instead of his regular one because his original hat that he had given to me was currently hanging off a chair in my bedroom.

I was sitting on the ground on the other side of the pillar with my back leaning up against it, holding one of Dustin's hands in my left palm and tracing light circles onto his palm with my right hand. I watched Steve with a deadpanned look as he slurped the last drops of his soda that he had made me go and get for him half way through our mission.

I was starting to feel bored as ever on this 'mission' the longer time wore on. I mean, really? What were the odds that we'd find an actual evil Russian, waltzing around the mall in broad daylight?

"Target acquired." Dustin suddenly said.

Okay, so maybe the odds were pretty decent.

"Where?" Steve and I asked in unison, popping up beside a now standing Dustin.

"Ten o'clock. Sam Goody's." Dustin breathed.

"Give me that." Steve said, taking hold of the binoculars.

I looked to where Dustin had directed and sure enough, there was a tall muscular man in shades with long blonde hair and wearing all black while carrying a duffel bag as he shuffled through the crowd.

Something about the man was oddly familiar to me but I shrugged it off.

"Shit. Duffel bag." Steve said.

Steve lowered his binoculars and the three of us looked to each other.

"Evil Russian." Dustin and Steve said in unison.

"Did you legitimately forget you came home with a duffle bag?" I asked Dustin.

All of a sudden, Dustin grabbed hold of my hand and yanked me along through the crowd with Steve on our sudden chase.

"Uh, dust. You can let go now, hun." I said as we walked past a group of elderly women trying on feathered hats.

"Right, sorry." Dustin said, loosening his grip on my arm so that I could jog up to where Steve and him were.

"Slow down." Dustin warned Steve as we squeezed through a group of girls.

"We're losing him." Steve persisted.

"You're getting too close." Dustin said.

Steve's shoulder suddenly collided with a guy not much older than himself, who turned and scowled at him.

"Watch it, dickwad!" He said.

The so-called 'evil Russian' slowed his pace, curiously peering over his shoulder.

That's when it hit me who it was.

Steve and Dustin both pushed me back and Steve pretended he was my mother scolding me beside a plant pot as Dustin yanked the pay phone off the hook, speaking in a monotone voice.

"Hello. Yes. I am fine. How are you?" Dustin said into the phone.

"For the millionth time! You can't just go running off like that. Now, I know you want those new shoes but you'll just have to wait for me to finish my shopping. I saw these really nice plates that I want to look at, so come on. Hurry up. Don't drag your feet." Steve said, pointing his finger at me while his other hand was on his hip and then pretending to walk away with me, grabbing hold of my arm and marching off a few paces before turning around and checking to see if the evil Russian had stopped paying attention.