⚠️ Warning ⚠️ Mild cursing and some terrible, terrible innuendos.
HeY hEeeyyyy (Yes I know I said 3-4 days but I was busy ok) so, I decided to squeeze Elvis Presley in there again, 'cuz you'll actually need the song for this chapter, huehue..
And, well, idk I hope this chapter compensates for being away for so long, my dudes :'3
Angst will actually be in the next ones so, enjoy some sap before I get into the heart-wrenching shit.
Enjoy!!!~
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"I spy with my little eye.."
Mick glances at your frowning features after a few seconds of silence, questioning your lack of usual noisiness.
"..Yah know, sheila, there ain't much to look at in the middle of nowhe-"
"Shush."
He rolls his eyes dismissively, adjusting his shades absentmindedly.
You snap your fingers in realization and smile, ready to wait for an answer.
"Something that starts with the letter 'S'-"
"Sand."
You stare at him dumbfounded. Mick stares back mockingly.
"How did you guess that so quickly?!?"
Mick let's out a huffy laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.
"(Y/n), we're in the middle of a bloody desert.."
You frown once again. You're gonna really have to focus on this one.
Mick and you were currently sitting on the van's rusty roof, taking some fresh air after a scorching day of pushing the camper. You had yet to turn on the 3-ton vehicle, for fear of a sudden explosion of sorts.
It was a silly thought, you figured, but what if the motor had broken from the inside, creating a spark when you turned it on, causing a sudden combustion to happen by the non-existent gas leak dripping from the van's gas tank and provoking a catastrophic explosion?
You wouldn't take any chances.
That's why you were currently in the process of pushing a 12,000-pound camper across the New Mexico desert, because you slapped the keys out of Mick's hand when he tried to start up the van.
After spending 2 hours inside the van since you stopped pushing it to take a break, and almost melting because of the heat, (and rummaging through all of Mick's drawers for some form of entertainment and even turning up the radio a bit) you 'burrowed' Mick's brown hat while he took a nap, snatched a worn looking baseball from one of the bottom drawers next to the tiny bed and climbed on the van's roof.
The Aussie later discovered the lack of usual darkness covering his eyes; and the lack of your cheerful, chattery self.
And the obvious loud music from the van's radio.
So in a moment of desperation he bolted out of his beloved camper turned home, and discovered your relaxed form, sitting on the roof with his hat on, tossing what he soon discovered was Scout's old baseball in the air.
Mick loved his camper. It was his most prized possession. But now it was more of a microwave oven than a van, and he decided to keep you company on said van's roof.
And now you're here, playing 'I spy with my little eye' with Mick, scorching in the desert on top of a van, the radio's music a comforting background noise.
At least there's more breeze up here.
"Okay; okay, wait! Lemme try that again."
Mick huffs in despair.
"Tha's not fair, sheila! Oi won!!"
He leans forward, a hand on his knees as he pulls down his hat onto your eyes.
"AAAH!! You idiot!!" You laugh, punching his shoulder softly.
Mick would never dare admit it, but whenever you scrunch your nose and mock glare at him, you just look so darn cute and his cheeks burn so much you could cook bacon on them.
Dammit
He rubs his face with his right hand to swipe off some sweat, grumbles because he can't think of a way to cover his blush, and ushers you to hurry up and get it over with so he'll have his turn.
You noticed the soft red tinting his tan cheeks, but dismiss it remembering your still under the damn sun and continue with your quest.
You rub your chin with one hand, concentrating on choosing a good challenge for Mick, rolling the baseball around with the other.
You suddenly get an idea.
What if you just use a word to describe something specifically from Mick?
Surely he'd never guess that!
You could say 'H' for hat!
But then again you're the one wearing it.. and it's kinda obvious man.
Think (Y/n), think.
Describe Mick Mundy with the letter 'H'!
Like humble, or humanitarian, or humorous, or handsome, or hot-
C'mon (Y/n) let's keep this PG-13..
You lean your head on your hands, frowning at the increasing heat on your cheeks and lowering the hat just a tiny bit to hide your face.
Mick apparently doesn't notice and takes this very precise moment to complain.
"(Y/n), c'mon sheila, Oi'm meltin' 'ere!"
You sigh exasperatedly and say the first letter to come to mind, tossing the baseball to the anxious Aussie.
That might've not been a great choice.
"Okay! Okay, uhh.. 'D'!?!..."
You slouch back again, leaning your head on both of your hands.
(Y/n), what the actual f u c k?
'Crap, crap, cra-'
Your running thoughts halt at the sound of a snort, followed by a loud, wheezy laugh as Mick clutches his stomach with one hand, attempting to cover his face with the other.
You sputter indignantly, trying to make up for your obvious mistake.
"I-I wasn't thinking about that! Why the heck are you laughing?!" You scream, cheeks burning as Mick turns his watery gaze back to you.
"Oi haven't even said anything!! You're the dirty-minded one here!"
Mick tosses you back the baseball as you stutter an answer.
"W-well, jokes on you, it was actually 'dust' so you lost! Suck on that!"
You cross your arms triumphantly, your sudden airs of confidence slaughtered by even more wheezing.
And you realize yet another mistake.
"MICK!!"
"HAHAHAHA"
You take off Mick's hat in annoyance, pulling it down on his head somewhat roughly as he lets out a final chuckle.
You try to hide your smile, you really do.
But it's so hard when the man before you only brings pure joy to your life.
Wo A h (Y/n), let's slow our horses here..
Mick stops abruptly, straining his ear toward the van's door below.
Your alert instincts kick in, staring at Mick intently for an answer.
"What's wrong??"
You scoot closer to the Australian and lean towards the van's door as well.
"Do you hear that??"
Mick stares back expectantly, an adorable smile widening on his charming features.
You can't help but be perplexed for a second, his expression making your heart skip a beat.
"W-what?.."
Mick chuckles softly, shaking his head as he grabs your hand.
"C'mon, sheila.."
You follow after him obediently, a little overwhelmed by the gentle touch, struggling to stuff the baseball into your pocket.
He first climbs down from the van, waiting patiently as you follow and offering a hand to help you down.
Dragging you back until you reach the camper's door, he lets go of your hand, and you already miss the warmth from his soft grip.
He jumps up the steps and leans over the radio, searching for a specific button and turning up the volume a bit.
You recognize the tune immediately.
"Wise men say... only fools rush in.."
Mick approaches you again, a hand behind his back as he offers his free one for you to take.
"May Oi have this dance?.."
He smiles, an enchanting twinkle in his blue eyes pulling you closer to the waiting Australian.
You giggle, your cheeks flushed from the sudden attention. "You may.."
You place your right hand on his, as he pulls you gently closer to him.
"But I can't help... falling in love, with you.."
He guides your hand onto his shoulder and places his softly on your waist, the other held outstretched while holding yours.
He takes a step back and left, then forward and right, his feet attempting to follow the rhythm of a slow Waltz.
"Shall I stay?... Would it be a sin?.."
You follow his moves carefully, trying to avoid stepping on his feet.
That would be a complete shame, now wouldn't it?
"Ow!" Mick lifts his foot a bit unconsciously, stomping a couple of times to ease the pain.
"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, Mickey!!" You begin, slowing your pace and stepping away from him.
Mick only laughs softly, pulling you closer than before.
"If I can't help... falling in love, with you.."
"It's okay, sheila.. It'll take more than that to actually stop me from dancing with you. Can't let this opportunity go so fast.." Mick replies jokingly and smiles, a small hint of sadness in his eyes.
Your heart skips a beat, a new found hope filling it with dreams of a new future; maybe beside this man, you hope, who might just be the one.
A small smile escapes your lips and you place your other arm around Mick's neck, resting your head on his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying the soft warmth he emits.
"That's good.."
The synchronized waltzing slowed into a gentle sway, the New Mexico sun setting in the horizon, the sky a beautiful painting of soft peachy orange and pink.
Mick's heart couldn't be beating more rapidly, and the flutter in his stomach couldn't be wilder. He sighs softly and smiles, resting his chin on top of your head comfortably, allowing his eyes to flutter closed.
And at that moment, you were both content to remain like this forever.
*HONK!! HOOONKKK!!!*
Your eyes shoot open, what sounded like a car horn calling out in the distance.
You straighten up abruptly, surprising Mick in the process.
"Mick, did you hear that??"
You strain your ears to listen closer, completely forgetting about how painfully close you and Mick were.
Mick didn't dare move a muscle, too comfortable with his arms around you to let go, but aware that you still needed your space, of course.
But what if he holds on too long and you become uncomfortable? He'd definitely have to let you go. But what if he lets go? Would you think he was ashamed of being seen with you and that he wasn't really interested?!?
Man he hates always overthinking everything.
You take the lead and unwrap your arms from his neck, and he already misses your arms around him, but is soon surprised to find you holding his hand firmly and pulling him towards the edge of the road in search of the mysterious sound.
Very far away, the heat from the scorching desert reveals a blurry looking vehicle approaching rapidly, the sun's rays reflecting off the wind shield in a strong, blinding yellow.
You cover your eyes with your free hand, watching as the fast-moving vehicle clears up into the shape of a dull red, rusty pickup truck. You let go of Mick's hand briefly, waving your arms around wildly, seeking the driver's attention.
Mick forgets the slight disappointment in his heart from you letting go of his hand, and instead opts to help you attract the focus of the pickup's owner.
The truck approaches even more, but doesn't seem to slow down and you frown, not believing some people's rudeness.
Mick continues to wave his hands, yelling for the car's driver to slow down, but you knew it would be a waste of time.
You struggle to take out the worn baseball from your pocket, pulling it out quickly as the truck zooms by.
You hold the ball with both hands for a second and lift a leg for greater impulse, doing the only thing that came to mind.
You throw the ball as hard as you can, aiming for the truck's back window.
After all, they didn't call you slingshot arm at school for nothing..
*CRACK!!*
*SCREEECHHH!!!*
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Love you my lil' marshmallows!!💖💖💖💖💖