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ajremixTitle: Freelancer Academy: Illegally Blonde
Fandom: Red vs Blue
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: 387
Characters: York, North, Wash
Summary: A prank goes awry.
York practically burst into the room saying, "Shit." He actually managed the oxymoronic feat of screeching and hissing it simultaneously. "Shitshitshitshitshit!" He nearly flattened North's feet as he dove under the desk. "Hi. I'm just gonna live down here now."
North rolled his chair back, just enough so he could peer down at York as he leaned against the arm rest. "What's going on? What did you do?"
"It was an accident! ...sort of. The lead-up was intentional but the accident was an accident!"
"And now that that's cleared up any lingering questions- what happened, York?"
York just hunkered down into a near fetal position, not really looking at his best friend. "You know how Wyoming's got that spray bottle of peroxide for his hair, right?"
"Yeah. And I know that he's been ranting about his industrial-sized refill bottle going missing."
"I stole that, like, five months ago. Uh... don't tell anyone."
"Oh, I'm shocked speechless," came the droll reply. It surprised no one that York was the culprit, but no punishment could be doled out without proof. "That was the intentional bit, right?"
"Yeah. I hid the sucker pretty good. Except... uh... that's where the accident comes in."
All North managed to do was lift an eyebrow before a shriek rattled the very foundations of the building. North looked at the door across the hall- the origin of the terrorized scream -and then down at the cowering thief.
"WashaskedifhecouldusemyshampooandItoldhimyesandhegrabbedtheperoxideinsteadandhe'sgoingtokillmeeventhoughitwasanaccidentandI'mprobablygoingtodielaughingfirstanywaybecausehelooksridiculous!"
If North's door hadn't already been open, Wash probably would've slammed it off its hinges. North took one look at him- his red face and wide eyes and dark eyebrows and brown-orange hair with patches of pale-orange hair -and nearly choked.
"I'm going to fucking kill you!"
"I'msorryI'msorrypleasedon'thurtme!"
North- used to intercepting angry blonde missiles of hate and discontent -grabbed Wash by the arms and dragged him back to his and York's own room. "Yes, yes," he said placatingly, "you will gouge out his eyes and use his skull as a doorstop, I know. How about we do something about your hair first, so people don't remember you as the Calico Murder Machine?"
Well, you had to hand it to the Academy, North thought as Wash sulked in a chair and York cowered under North's desk (disturbingly close to the computer cables). There's always something going on.
Fandom: Red vs Blue
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: 387
Characters: York, North, Wash
Summary: A prank goes awry.
York practically burst into the room saying, "Shit." He actually managed the oxymoronic feat of screeching and hissing it simultaneously. "Shitshitshitshitshit!" He nearly flattened North's feet as he dove under the desk. "Hi. I'm just gonna live down here now."
North rolled his chair back, just enough so he could peer down at York as he leaned against the arm rest. "What's going on? What did you do?"
"It was an accident! ...sort of. The lead-up was intentional but the accident was an accident!"
"And now that that's cleared up any lingering questions- what happened, York?"
York just hunkered down into a near fetal position, not really looking at his best friend. "You know how Wyoming's got that spray bottle of peroxide for his hair, right?"
"Yeah. And I know that he's been ranting about his industrial-sized refill bottle going missing."
"I stole that, like, five months ago. Uh... don't tell anyone."
"Oh, I'm shocked speechless," came the droll reply. It surprised no one that York was the culprit, but no punishment could be doled out without proof. "That was the intentional bit, right?"
"Yeah. I hid the sucker pretty good. Except... uh... that's where the accident comes in."
All North managed to do was lift an eyebrow before a shriek rattled the very foundations of the building. North looked at the door across the hall- the origin of the terrorized scream -and then down at the cowering thief.
"WashaskedifhecouldusemyshampooandItoldhimyesandhegrabbedtheperoxideinsteadandhe'sgoingtokillmeeventhoughitwasanaccidentandI'mprobablygoingtodielaughingfirstanywaybecausehelooksridiculous!"
If North's door hadn't already been open, Wash probably would've slammed it off its hinges. North took one look at him- his red face and wide eyes and dark eyebrows and brown-orange hair with patches of pale-orange hair -and nearly choked.
"I'm going to fucking kill you!"
"I'msorryI'msorrypleasedon'thurtme!"
North- used to intercepting angry blonde missiles of hate and discontent -grabbed Wash by the arms and dragged him back to his and York's own room. "Yes, yes," he said placatingly, "you will gouge out his eyes and use his skull as a doorstop, I know. How about we do something about your hair first, so people don't remember you as the Calico Murder Machine?"
Well, you had to hand it to the Academy, North thought as Wash sulked in a chair and York cowered under North's desk (disturbingly close to the computer cables). There's always something going on.
