Cooties (Iman)
Once they’d got him back to the Agency, counteragented, calmed down, and checked over, Fawkes was out of there like he was on the run from the law. Again. Possibly he just wanted some space; he did tend to get kind of touchy after he’d gone all red-eyed and crazy. When he didn’t come back, Bobby went to go check on him anyway.
He was going to have to tell the kid to get his locks changed, he thought as he opened the door in about eight and a half seconds. Bobby Hobbes was good, but so were other people. He found Fawkes (or rather, heard him through the bathroom door) in the shower. He knocked on the door and was invited in. Well, when Bobby asked if he was okay, Fawkes kind of made a tragic noise, which Bobby was willing to take as an invitation to investigate further.
“How long you been in there, my friend?” Bobby asked, casual-like.
“Not long enough,” Fawkes shouted back over the sound of the water. “Like four hours.”
“There can’t be any hot water left, can there?”
“Oh, there isn’t.” He sounded miserable. But then, he was also still in the shower. This would take some serious and subtle questioning to get to the bottom of, Bobby Hobbes could tell.
“So,” he said, holstering his gun and closing the bathroom door to lean on it, “What exactly is so nasty you gotta take a four hour shower with no hot water to get rid of it?”
There was a long moment where the only sound was water falling against tile. Well, and the sound of six foot three of Darien Fawkes withering into an over-saturated prune, but Bobby was pretty sure that wasn’t actually audible. “You know when I had the quicksilver madness on again, and Arnaud got it at the same time?” Fawkes said casually.
“Not like I’m going to forget that, my friend.”
Fawkes stuck his head out around the shower door. “I made out with Arnaud.”
“Oh, ew,” Bobby said without thinking. “You what? I mean…oh, that is nasty. What were you thinking? Ew,” he added as an afterthought.
“I wasn’t thinking!” Fawkes said defensively. “I was crazy! And so was he. It was bad. Lots of bad. Lots of…ew.” Fawkes stuck his head back under the shower.
Bobby leaned against the door again, trying not to think about Fawkes and Arnaud and…ew. Did making out imply tongues? He was pretty sure it did. Not that he was going to ask, because then he’d have to know.
Although, Fawkes was kind of hot with the red-eye thing going on…
“You want some mouthwash? I’m pretty sure I got some mouthwash in the back of the car.”
“Why do you have mouthwash in the back of your car? No, don’t answer that, just bring it up. God.”
Bobby brought him the mouthwash.