Chapter Text
Scout lounged in his seat, his leg crossed against his opposite knee as he swirled the ice in his coffee around. He frequented a small café not far from his base whenever he had to put together paperwork for a new job, huddling over his papers not so inconspicuously when a stranger would walk behind him.
Now, he'd just finished his paperwork and tucked it away into his old beat up school bag from over a decade ago, keeping the thing around just to not have to buy another. He was only around the coffee shop now as an excuse to be away from work, he had enough funds to lounge around without turning in his papers in for another week.
He perked his head over as he heard the bells ringing above the door, watching as a man in not-so casual wear walked in. He had an old beaten up vest on, and a tattered windbreaker on under, he looked like a hunter who'd just gotten his job off for the day, enough to feed a family, and was now resting at the small coffee shop close by his hunting range. That's what Scout made up in his head, at least.
The man's scruffy facial hair, hard yet soft jawline, laid back demeanor, and cold eyes hooded by sunglasses were enough to ping something in Scout's not quite linear mind. He pursed his lips, tilting his head back and watching as the man ordered a freshly hot, fairly creamed yet sugarless, black coffee, and kept his interest on the man as he seemed to waltz over to Scout. Scout's brows perked upwards as he straightened himself in his chair, now hunched over the small cozy two-seat table, placing his own coffee down.
The man placed his coffee down in front of the chair facing Scout, a slight upturn to his lips, "Ay, mind if I take a seat?" He had a richly stereotypical Australian accent, yet it seemed gravely, maybe from smokes, or maybe from his line of work and not young yet not old age, Scout took a quick liking to it just from his short quip.
Scout shrugged slightly, leaning back again, "Sure, pally." He tried to casually say, yet it came out more like a wobble, like he was caught doing something wrong.
The guy took a seat at the table, letting out a little grunt as he sat down, almost as if he had been working so hard that just taking a seat was refreshing, "Saw ya' starin' at me, ya' take a likin', lil' roo?" Scout flushed from the forwardness of his approach, as well as the 'lil' roo', which he took a liking to as well, yet he tried to play it off by wiping a thumb across his cheek, "Name's Mundy."
Scout swallowed harshly, "I mean you're not too hard to look at, ya'know?" He casted his gaze afar, "I'm Jeremy."
Mundy rested his forearms against the table, taking a sip from his freshly brewed coffee, "So, what'dya do for a livin', Jeremy?"
Scout panicked for a long moment, opening his mouth just for nothing to come out of his voice box besides silent strain, that is until he finally managed a; "I'm uhh... A soldier..?" He sounded as if he was merely trying to convince himself.
Mundy eyed his dogtags hanging from his neck, "...Yeah, mate?"
Scout sighed, relaxing into his chair, now leaning forward and scooting his chair up with himself, "Listen, 'm not really, more like'a mercenary, y'know freelance shit. Ya' can't tell a soul, though!" He murmured harshly under his breath.
Mundy chuckled a breathy chuckle, "Shouldn't go 'round tellin' strangers ya' like 'bout that, lil' roo." He spoke in a rich whisper now, "Anyways, since we gotta' break this damn iceburg some'ow, me too, mate. 'M actually trackin' somebody 'ere in this café, also grabbin' a coffee to keep this ol' brain runnin'."
Scout stared for a long moment, trying to keep his jaw from falling agape, "Ah... Is it me?" He whispered, panicked now for a separate reason. Who knew even hot strangers were out to put a bullet in his dome.
The Sniper snickered, a wolfish mouth of teeth baring at Scout, "Nah, yer real lucky 'bout that, 'cause ya' easily could'a been. Wouldn't sit wit' me target though, i's that'un over there." He motioned his eyes towards a business man tapping away at the keyboard of his laptop in the corner of the shop, "That bloke's a real dirtbag, don' fell too bad 'bout it."
Scout nodded, relieved, "Well, ya'know my job so ya' definitely know I don't feel bad." He murmured with a pursed bottom lip, now crossing his arms.
"Yer real cute though, Jeremy, we should catch a drink when I'm off me job." Mundy spoke more confidently now, though Scout seemed to notice a tremor in his lips. Maybe he was working so often he wasn't used to talking people up like this anymore, and surely with his line of work he never got the chance to make something last either. Luckily, Scout had the same thing going for him, so maybe this could relish into something.
Scout let a slight smile seep into his lips, "Alrighty then, buckaroo, we can talk 'til ya' buddy leaves, just leave me with a number to call."
Mundy huffed, smiling just as Scout did now, "Sounds good to me." Though as he took another sip of his coffee, his target seemed to be gathering his things together, "Well then, lil' roo, guess I gotta' be on me way, lemme' get ya' that number." He fished an older flip-phone out of his pocket, "Put yer number in."
"Well isn't this a god damn relic, pally." He chided about the phone, before punching his number in. Mundy left with a slight wave, sauntering out to a van parked outside the café. Scout grinned to himself, finishing his coffee as he thought over the exchange, it seemed his week-long vacation might not be all that boring.
As he left the shop, he heard a gunshot sound in the far distance, and strangely enough, it sounded familiar to a certain strangers sultry voice.