Favor

Cypher reclines on his chair, watching from one monitor to the next, in his control room.  He is quiet as he does so, not wanting to bother (and consequently infuriate) the other occupant of the room.  He doesn’t even let his sights wander over the pile of crates in the corner, where his companion is perched on.

No.  Cypher keeps his focus on one monitor and then to the next, tracking movements appearing in them.

The silence he’s been doing his level-best on keeping, however, is soon broken, much to Cypher’s delight.

“She is late,” Omen finally states.

“Uncharacteristically so, yes,” Cypher seconds, finally taking his eyes off of his monitors.  He swivels in his chair so that he’s facing the door to the room, “but she’s here now.”

The door opens, and a woman with long jet-black flowing hair comes in.

Sage is winded.  She keeps her hand on the doorknob for support as she takes in lungsful of air to catch her breath.  “I apologize for being late,” she says breathily, before proceeding inside the room and closing the door behind her.

The two men in the room don’t say anything.  They just keep looking at her as she sits on the spare chair next to Cypher.

Sage finally notices their lack of response and so asks, “Is something the matter?”

“Hair,” Omen blatantly mentions, to which Sage furrows her brows in confusion.

Cypher lets out an awkward chuckle.  “What he means is that, we’ve never seen you with your hair down.  It looks goo-”

“Dissimilar,” Omen provides, cutting Cypher off.

Cypher, this time, laughs nervously, “Ah, yes, but it’s a good different.”

“I did not have time for it.  I was rushing to get here,” Sage confesses.  She still can’t believe she overslept.  But to be fair, she was only able to fall asleep at around 3 in the morning.  ‘The damned nightcap did not do its job,’ she thinks, despite knowing full well that it was not the said beverage’s fault and that she is, in fact, being petulant.  She really doesn’t like losing sleep – it makes her irrational.

Omen makes some sort of dismissive sound, which breaks Sage’s reverie.  She then hears Cypher clear his throat.  “We should start,” he follows up.

Sage merely nods.  Omen does nothing but sit still, which signifies his assent.

Cypher points to one of his monitors.  He then fiddles with some of the control buttons.  The footage in the monitor goes backward.

While it was doing so, Cypher produces a photo and shows it to his teammates.  “As you know, we’ve been looking for this guy for a couple of days now,” Cypher starts his report.  “It was Omen who found him, slightly wounded, in the woods.  But when we tried to have Sage heal him, he bolted.”

“Scared,” Omen remarks.

“Yes.  He was wounded and alone.  That would make anyone scared,” Sage agrees.

“True.  Now, since we didn’t ask for Sova’s help on tracking him down, we’ve relied on my cameras and on our individual efforts to search for him,” Cypher supplies further.

“Why did we not ask for Sova’s help again?”  Sage questions, her brain muddled from the lack of sleep.

“Too many variables,” Omen answers.

“Yes, it would’ve been more problematic if everyone got involved.  The poor guy was already scared out of his wits; he doesn’t need the additional… excitement the other agents would’ve certainly brought,” Cypher continues.

‘Ah, yes, because once we told Sova, he would have definitely told Phoenix.  And then Phoenix would have told Jett, who, in turn, would have told Raze, and on and on, until eventually, everyone in the base would hear about him, and would want to get him,’ Sage thinks, finally remembering.

“I hope he is alright,” she instead voices, face stricken with worry.

“And that is precisely why I called for this early morning meeting,” Cypher announces.  He points to the monitor, the footage of which he’s been rewinding a while ago.  Omen jumps down from the top of the crates and strides towards the monitors.  Sage leans in to have a look at the one pointed at.  Cypher steps back to give them enough space in front of the monitor.

In it, they could see the various trees and plants that provide their headquarters with a much-needed veiling.  Sage is about to comment that there is nothing of note in the footage, when she sees movement, or more particularly, movements from some of the plants.  And after a few more seconds, out comes a fox with a distinctive heart-shaped white patch of fur on its orange-colored body.  She’s followed by a couple smaller foxes, of the same color but without the distinguishing mark.

Sage gasps.  Omen takes a closer look, his movement looking almost possessed.

“This was taken yesterday around noon.  I was only able to review the footage last night, which is why we’re only meeting now,” Cypher says.  “It turns out, it’s a she and her scratches have healed up.  Oh, and of course, it also turns out that she’s a mother of two.”  Cypher finishes his report, sounding every bit overjoyed by each information he imparted.

He looks at his companions.  Sage has tears welling in her eyes.  Omen is still much too engrossed with the footage.  And Reyna is looking at them with an amused smile by the door.

‘Wait, Reyna?’ Cypher does a double take.  But there she is, right in front of his eyes.  “Reyna!  What- how- when did you get here?” he exclaims more than he asks.

The other two occupants of the room snap their heads towards the door’s direction.  They see Reyna leaning against the door, her lips curled in a smile.

“Sneaky,” Omen rasps.

Sage is too stunned to see the duelist to say, or do, anything.

“I was just passing by when I heard voices coming from inside.  I got curious, so I came to see what’s happening.” Reyna explains, moving away from the door and towards the monitors.  She settles herself in between Sage and Omen but keeps her eyes locked in the monitor the two were absorbed in earlier.

Omen makes some sort of growling noise.  But Reyna merely turns her head towards him and smirks, before turning her attention back to the monitor again.  The duelist coos when she sees the fox family.

That’s when Sage is jolted back to reality.  She turns to her side, ready to give Reyna a chewing out.  But the duelist spoke again before she could.

“I see that she’s well now.  That medicine Sabine gave me worked like a charm.”

“Medicine?” the three others in the room asks in unison.

“Medicine – the one you take to cure whatever ails you,” Reyna replies snidely.

“I know what medicine is.  How did you manage to give her one?” Omen demands.

“I laced a piece of meat with it and left it within her radar.  If I hadn’t, her scratches could have gotten infected.  We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Reyna tells them, but her gaze falls on Sage.  The duelist gives the healer a smile.

“I did good, didn’t I, little dove?” Reyna asks, hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Sage’s ear.  “You look absolutely ravishing with your hair down, by the way.  Must you drive me wild this early in the day?”

Whatever affirmation Sage had at the tip of her tongue vanished upon hearing the off-hand remark.  Yet, Sage finds herself unable to utter a single word of reproach… so she settles for swatting away Reyna’s hand.

The duelist holds both her hands in the air, backing away.  “Well, this has been fun, but I have a drill to go to.  Until next time.  Hasta luego.” Reyna says, winking most definitely at Sage before exiting the room.

Once enough time has passed from Reyna’s leaving the room, Omen mutters something under his breath, “Odd.”

“Indeed.  Didn’t I tell you so?” Cypher whispers back.

“Sabine will mislike this.”

“She already knows, and she already does.”

“Knows and mislikes what?” Sage asks the men, who both flinch from surprise.

Cypher, panicking, racks his brain for some sort of plausible excuse.  He fails to notice what Omen is doing – or rather, is preparing to do.  It’s only when he hears the telltale sound that he finds out.

“Goodbye,” Omen hastily says before hightailing it teleporting out of the room.

“Wait-” Cypher helplessly says, but he’s too late.  With a sigh, he turns back to Sage, whose gaze has been trained on him the entire time.

“Well?” Sage asks, squinting her eyes at the other sentinel.

Cypher sighs.  “Either way, you’re dead meat, Cypher,” he mumbles to himself.

“Well, since I am the information broker, I guess I’m under obligation to provide information,” he starts.  He braces himself before continuing, “Sabine does not like that Reyna acts so familiarly with you.”

Sage’s expression shifts from threatening to slightly taken aback.  “Oh, that makes the two of us, then,” she says, expression softening further.

“Yes, I’m sure she’ll love to talk to you about it over tea,” Cypher comments.

“Well, that was it,” Cypher, turning back to his teammate, says.  It’s quickly followed by an excited, “Oh, would you look at the time!  I really should get back to…”

But the energy Cypher started with peters out upon seeing Sage cross her arms and squint her eyes (again) at him.

“…work.”  The Moroccan’s shoulders slump in defeat, “Huh~ you’re not going to leave just yet, are you?”

“Not until you tell me everything,” Sage tells him.

Cypher sighs again, wondering how long Sabine would torture him before finally deciding to end his misery.  Maybe she could negotiate with Sage, ‘what have I got to lose, after all?’

“You heard this from Omen.  Omen told this to you,” he says.

Sage doesn’t make any move hinting at approval.

‘Well, it was worth the shot,’ the broker thinks.

“Cypher, the longer you stall, the quicker I will reconsider your offer,” Sage informs him, tapping her pointer finger on her forearm.

The statement makes the masked sentinel scramble to relay the needed information.

“You… well, you let Reyna get away with things – more specifically, with personal-space-related things.  You know, things which only your close relations are allowed to do?  Sabine doesn’t like that, not one bit.”

“I do no such thing!” Sage retorts, looking affronted.  She’s about to deny it further, but Cypher cuts her off with an interjection.

“Remember earlier, when she was here, she wedged herself between you and Omen-”

“Because she wanted to look at the footage in the monitor,” Sage rejoinders quickly.

“She was sticking so close to you that your shoulders weren’t just brushing, they were practically glued to each other,” Cypher rebuts.

“You have a very small control room.  There is not much space to stand around on.”

“Okay,” Cypher concedes.  But he’s not one to go down without a fight, so he gives another instance to his fellow sentinel in order to prove his point.  “Then what about the hair-tucking?”

Sage flushes.

The reaction fuels Cypher’s base desire to win in whatever he’s caught up with.  He mounts his offensive, “or that bit about you being ‘absolutely ravishing’ that is ‘driving her wild’?”

Sage’s cheeks turn impossibly redder.  She splutters, trying to refute the statements.  Cypher doesn’t let her, continuing with his barrage.

“Oh, wait.  That’s right!  You swatted her hand away.  Alright, alright,” the broker states, not at all appearing to be finished.  He, however, pauses for a second before he delivers his final blow, “Then what about yesterday – when you let her cuddle you in the middle of the kitchen?”

“She was locking me in place!”  Sage, finally, counters indignantly, letting all of her frustrations out with the statement.  She fails to question how Cypher knew of the incident, but then again, that doesn’t matter much since he is Cypher.

The outburst shocks the Moroccan, but he’s quick to get over it.  “Nevertheless, she still got away with it – with all of it; whereas, were it anyone else, I’m sure the case would not be so.  You’ve got quite a tongue on you, as I’m sure you know,” he says, sounding to have calmed a little since his earlier volleys.

He doesn’t wait for Sage to affirm or negate his statement, however.  He quickly follows his statement up with another, “Do you remember that agent who asked to be transferred halfway across the globe after you gave him a piece of your mind?”

Sage does, but she doesn’t let Cypher know that.

“And he had only made the mistake of placing his hand on your lower back instead of just tapping your shoulder to call your attention,” the masked sentinel reminds her (even though he feels that Sage was completely justified in her outburst then).

“Alright, enough.  You have made your point,” Sage declares.  She pinches the bridge of her nose, memories flooding back and realizations dawning on her.  She lets out a deep sigh.

Cypher moves closer to her, being one of the few fortunate who could come within Sage’s personal bubble.  “Oh, my dear bastion,” he says, patting Sage’s shoulder.  “It’s gonna be okay…” he consoles.

“… you know, once you decide to do something about it.”

Sage’s only response is to bury her head in her hands.