𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐈 ─ 𝐌𝐂𝐑. 𝐏!𝐀𝐓𝐃. 𝐅𝐎𝐁. 𝐓Ø𝐏.

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐃𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐬. (𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝!𝐃. 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

You'd been at it non-stop for almost fifteen minutes with no time to take a breather, and your strikes were beginning to lose potency. This, unfortunately, gave your enemies an edge, and they wasted no time in capitalising on it, with one of them delivering a stunning kick to your midsection, propelling you backwards through the doorway and into the IT centre.

You landed a few feet away from Dallon with a loud thud and a groan of pain, and the techie's attention was immediately stolen from the monitor and set on you completely. His heart race picked up and his face became panicked as he stopped hacking for a moment and started reaching for you.

"Oh, my god. (Y/N), are you okay? Do you need-"

"I'm fine," you hissed through clenched teeth, shooing his hands away and pushing yourself up, "Just get it done, Weekes!"

With a hasty nod and only minimal reluctance, Dallon refocused on the monitor, as you picked yourself up and resumed fighting. They had made their way inside the centre, now, and you had to put in two hundred percent effort to make sure that your colleague was not in harm's way.

Mumbling to himself, Dallon skimmed over the programme he had created when its window appeared on the screen as fast as he could with desperate urgency. He could hear your faint grunts of discomfort sounding throughout the room, and his heart tugged with each sound. He hated it. Hated you being hurt. And so he rushed.

After doing one last check to ensure that all of the coding was correct before typing in the passcode and activating the virus.

"Okay!" he yelled out when he was done, yanking the drive from the PC and throwing up his hands. "It's done! (Y/N), I'm-"

Dallon froze in place after he turned and was presented with the barrel-end of a revolver, aimed right at his head. He saw the slight movement of the assailant's finger on the trigger and in that moment, he knew that his life was about to come to an end.

So, he shut his eyes and a second later, a gunshot echoed off of the walls.

But instead of feeling a bullet hit his head, he felt a soft hand cup his cheek tenderly. Confused, he opened his eyes and (after tilting his head down) looked right into yours.

"Hey, you're okay," you soothed, giving him a small smile as you brushed your thumb against his cheek.

It was clear that he was – or had been – terrified. There was a slight tremor in his body, and his usually sparkling eyes were dull with dread. You kept your hand on his face, non-verbally willing him to calm down, and eventually he was able to function normally and start to move.

He followed your lead out of the facility, but did so as if in a daze. He looked at all of the unconscious bodies on the floor, and he couldn't help but think that if it weren't for you, he'd have been worse off.

And suddenly, that little crush that he'd had on you for the last two years evolved into something much, much deeper.

~

"(Y/N)! Hey!"

Looking up from the mission folder in your hand, you stopped and turned around to see who had called for you. It was Dallon, and he was jogging down the corridor to catch up with you. His fluffy hair bounced each time his feet would hit the ground, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"Hey, cutie," you smiled, tucking the folder under your arm, "What's up?"

Your nickname caused the techie's cheeks to flush and he tried to hide it as best he could as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I, uh, I just wanted to say thank you for yesterday," he said earnestly, pushing his glasses back, "You... you saved my life."

"You don't have to thank me, Dallon. You know I always have your back," you said gently, giving another small smile, which he returned.

"And I always have yours. When it comes to tech stuff, at least. Well, and normal stuff, I guess. I mean, obviously not in, like, mission stuff 'cause I'm useless in the field. But, like, if you need someone to drive you to the doctor or-"

He shut his mouth when you placed a finger on his lips.

"What did we say about babbling?" you queried, cocking one brow.

"That it's only cute for the first five seconds," he mumbled against your finger, internally freaking out over the sensation.

"Mhm," you nodded and darted your tongue across your bottom lip before continuing, "And I'm pretty sure you can think of better things to do with your lips, no?"

Dallon was properly freaking out at this point, and struggling tremendously to maintain a neutral expression. A million possibilities of what his next move would be were racing through his mind. Unfortunately, though, he decided to go with the wrong one.

"Oh, like drinking coffee?" he piped, hastily taking your hand and removing it from his lips, "Haha, yeah! You're right; that's a great idea. I think I'll go do that now. Yeah. Okay, bye!"

~

"So you think I shoulda kissed her?"

"For someone who's supposedly a genius, you're a fucking idiot," Brendon answered in an icy tone, leaning against one of the desks with his arms folded over his chest.

"Is that a yes?"

With a sigh and an eye roll, Brendon straightened himself up and crossed over to his desolate friend, who had extended his body over the desk chair and was moving around aimlessly.

When he was close enough, the agent clamped both of his hands on the techie's shoulders and leaned down.

"Sí. Oui. Ja. Sim. Ken. Yes," he spoke, "She gave you the opening, dumbass."

With a groan, Dallon facepalmed with both hands. "Oh, my gooood. She did, didn't she?"

"Literally just said that."

Turning sharply, Dallon looked up at his friend with a desperate expression. "So now what do I do?"

"Go get her," Brendon answered, patting Dallon once on the back before turning and heading for the door, "Before Ambrose does."

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

Note: So this might be a series.