The bell on the door rang throughout the diner. Church paused in scribbling down the order of the customer in front of him and glanced over anxiously at the door. It was just a man with two kids coming in for breakfast. Church scowled and finished writing how the eggs were supposed to be done.

Once he turned around to hand the order to Sarge, Tucker was was by his side, a sly smile on his lips. "Waiting for somebody?"

Church's scowl deepened. "No." He continued on with his work as Tucker trailed persistently behind him.

As he started to clear away a pile of dishes from the bar, Tucker leaned up against the counter. "Really? Because every time someone comes in, you look at the door like you're expecting it to be somebody you know."

"I'm not," Church insisted, even though Tucker was right. He moved the stack of plates over to the bin of soapy water, then turned to glare at his best friend.

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Dude, if I have to watch you staring at her all longingly for one more day, I'm gonna barf. Just ask her out already, what's the worst that could happen?"

Before Church could snap back, there was the familiar rumble of a motorcycle from the parking lot. He quickly tried to busy himself in checking the cash register, while Tucker smirked. He walked off to go check on his tables, but kept an eye on Church.

The bell rang again and Church had to force himself to keep staring at the register. There was the sound of boots on the linoleum floor, and then the slight squeak of someone sitting down in the chair at the end of the bar. With a sigh, Church gave up on pretending he didn't know she was there and stalked over to where she sat.

"Lemme guess. A cup of coffee, black, two sausage links, and scrambled eggs." He finally looked up to stare at her. She was as beautiful and as cold as ever, with dark green eyes and a permanent glare. Her blonde hair was in its usual ponytail and was only slightly ruffled from her motorcycle helmet.

Texas gave him a smirk. "Add one of Donut's muffins in and you're golden."

Church gave her a sharp nod as he wrote down her order. "It'll be ready in a bit."

"Thanks, Church."

He bit down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling as he turned away. No matter how much he tried to deny it, Tucker was right. Ever since she had first stepped in the diner half a year ago, Church had been watching Texas with interest.

As he grabbed a couple of plates to give to a customer at the counter, Church considered what he had learned about Texas so far. She was a very secretive person, but Church had managed to learn that she worked as a special agent of sorts. After doing a bit of research, Church had realized that she was apart of Project Freelancer, an elusive government group that not much was known about. That had only made Tex even more attractive.

Grif was the one to hand Church Tex's order and he did so with a grin. Church rolled his eyes and carefully balanced the tray as he bustled over to where she was sitting.

Texas looked up from her phone when he placed the plate of food and coffee down in front of her. Before Church could get any awkward words out, Tex was already speaking.

"Do you want to get drinks with me and some of my coworkers tonight?"

Church blinked at her in surprise. Out of all the times she had come in, Tex had never really seemed very interested in him. "Uh, yeah sure. That'd be cool," he managed to respond.

"Alright. Here, put your number in." Texas handed him her phone, then started to peel the thin paper wrapper off of the muffin. Church quickly typed in his number, as if he was trying to do it before Tex could change her mind. When he handed her back the phone, she nodded at him. "Thanks. I'll see you at Chorus around eight."

"Okay, sounds good." Church opened his mouth to say something else, to ask if this was a date, but was saved by a grumpy old man sitting down at the bar. He went over to take his order and was caught up in the rest of the breakfast rush. By the time he looked back over to Texas, she was gone, only the empty plate and money to pay showed she had been there at all.

~*~

Church paced around outside the popular bar, a lit cigarette between his fingers. He had yet to gather up the nerve to walk inside to greet Texas and her coworkers. She was already intimidating enough when she wasn't surrounded by other secret agents.

With a sigh, Church put out his cigarette and pushed away the urge to light another one. He was supposed to be quitting, after all. He ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair and walked into the bar before he could run away.

Texas was sitting in a booth with a small group of attractive people that Church could only assume were the other Freelancers. He forced himself to walk up to them with an aloof expression on his face. Thankfully, Tex was on the end, so he slid in next to her. She passed him a beer as he settled down, which he gratefully accepted.

Tex paused her conversation with a blonde woman with purple in her hair to gesture towards him. "This is Church."

When she didn't say anything else, Church nodded towards the group. "Hey." He got a chorus of hellos in response.

"How do you know Texas?" The man across from Church spoke up.

Church glanced over at him and fought the urge to stare openly. He was blonde, like Tex, but his skin was a shade darker. His eyes were a dark shade of brown and instead of the cold stare of Texas, he was looking at Church with curiosity. Freckles were splattered across his face and neck, masking his age well.

Church absently licked his lips, then responded. "She's a regular at the diner I work at."

He raised an eyebrow, then glanced over to Tex, who had resumed speaking with the blonde. "And she just... Invited you?"

"Yeah," Church scoffed, a little offended. "So what?"

The man across from him just looked back over at Church, now with both eyebrows raised. From next to him, a friendly looking blonde nudged his friend. "Wash meant to say that Texas doesn't really come out to these things. Much less invite peop- Ow!" There was a dull thud from underneath the table, where Tex had put her heel into the pale, blonde man's shin.

He jumped in his seat as Texas smirked to herself. Church snickered along with her and the blonde girl, before turning back to the man across from him. "What the fuck kind of name is Wash?"

Wash snorted. "Okay. I can see why you and Texas get along." Tex shot him a grin, which he returned sarcastically before turning back to Church. "It's short for Washington."

"Washington? Texas?" Church glanced over at the pair of pale blondes at the end of the booth. "Who are you, North and South Carolina?"

The woman downed her drink while the man smiled. "Dakota, actually. I'm North and this is my sister, South."

Church glanced between Wash and Tex. "Is he fucking with me?"

Texas smiled around her bottle while Wash shook his head. "Nope. There are a bunch of others too, they couldn't make it tonight."

"Who else is there, fucking Rhode Island? What the fuck were your parents thinking?" Church looked between the four with an incredulous expression.

South and Texas snorted, while North just shrugged. "No, but there's Connecticut. And Maine. These aren't actually our names, they're more like codenames for Freelancer," Wash tried to explain.

"Right. You guys are spies, I forgot." Church leaned forward to stare at Wash. "If they're 'codenames,' then what's your real name?"

Wash just smiled and stared right back.

"Your name is Church, right?" North hurried to change the subject and Church guessed he had made faux pas. "Do you know Leonard Church by any chance?"

Church broke his eye contact with Washington to scowl. "Yeah. He's my uncle, I'm named after him."

That received him a table full of stares. He took a sip from his nearly empty drink as they all exchanged glances.

"How the fuck do you find these people, Texas?" South leaned forward to stare at Church, who didn't flinch.

Tex's stare, however, had Church bouncing his leg nervously. He couldn't decide what she was thinking from the blank expression on her face. "I had no idea."

When Church looked back across the table and found North and Wash also staring, he spoke up. "Okay, what the fuck? Do you guys know him or something?"

"He runs Project Freelancer. He's our boss," Wash responded as he studied Church's face. Instead of the confused look he had worn a few seconds ago, he seemed relaxed and confident. There was a small smirk on his lips, like he was enjoying what he was seeing. Church was starting to like him more and more.

Church tried to pretend like he hadn't noticed Wash undressing him with his eyes. He snorted and gave the group a grin. "Wow. Good fucking luck to you guys."

"Amen!" South laughed loudly while her brother shook his head.

"She had a few before we came, I think I should drive her home now." Wash stood up to let North out of the booth. Church could now appreciate how tall and well built both Freelancers were. He wondered if being hot was a requirement for the job.

As Tex and Church got up, Wash grinned. "Wow, South. It's not even ten yet and you're leaving."

South hit him in the shoulder hard enough to make Church wince. Wash didn't seem phased. "We can't all have freak livers like you." When North started to pull her away, she turned back to grin at them. "Use protection!"

Church could feel his face heating up as Wash shot the two of them a nervous smile. "She says that to everyone."

"Hey, it's good advice," Tex said as she sat back down. Church decided not to dwell on what was going on and followed her lead. Wash, however, shifted uncomfortably for a few seconds before finally sitting back down.

"If The Director is your uncle, does that mean Carolina is your cousin?" Wash changed the subject quickly.

Church came to a sudden realization. "Oh! Is that why you guys all have state names? Aunt Allison always was really patriotic."

Wash and Tex both stared at Church with a shocked look. "You knew Allison?" Wash asked in a hushed whisper, as if The Director was in the bar with them.

"Uncle Leonard actually told you about her?" Church found that hard to believe, as his uncle rarely ever voluntarily spoke about his late wife.

Tex shook her head. "No, Carolina did. I've never heard The Director say anything about Allison."

Wash suddenly turned to Texas with a sly grin. "So, you just happened to stumble upon Carolina's cousin in an obscure diner that's not on your route to work?"

Church watched as Texas shrugged. "I may have overheard Carolina talking about the diner to York after training one day. Turns out, her cousin works at the counter."

"She's gonna be pissed," Wash said, but couldn't help the grin that formed on his face.

Church rolled his eyes at the two of them. "Carolina is always pissed."

The group laughed as they continued to comment on their teammates. Eventually, the topic turned to war stories. For the rest of the night, Church listened to Wash and Texas as they animatedly told him about the adventures of the Freelancers. Whenever Church had a hard time believing something, one of them would have a scar to prove it.

When the bar finally started to empty, they reluctantly cleared out at the insistence of the waiter. The fresh air was a nice feeling as they stood on the sidewalk. As they were waiting for a taxi to pull up, Church fumbled in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Before he could find his lighter, Texas was talking. "Do you guys want to stay the night at my apartment?"

Her words earned his full attention and he dropped his cigarettes back into his pocket. When he looked over at Wash with what he felt was a deer-in-the-headlights expression, all the support he got was a smirk and a, "Sure, if Church wants to."

With both sets of eyes on him, Church could feel his cheeks heating up. "Uh, yeah. That... that sounds good," he managed to choke out, surprised by this sudden turn of events.

Tex only snickered and turned back to the road to wave down a cab. Wash gave Church an honest smile and beckoned him forward with a jerk of his head. When Church had stumbled a couple of steps towards him, Wash simply wrapped one of his arms around Church's shoulders. The warmth from the taller man was irresistible and Church snuggled closer into his side. He smelled nice, like body wash and a little bit of alcohol.

When Texas finally managed to find them a ride, they piled into the backseat of the small taxi. After giving the driver some brief instructions, she turned to the two of them with a grin. "Church, you look a little nervous," she raised her eyebrows at him teasingly.

Church scrunched back into Wash's warmth with a frown. "Hey, this doesn't happen to me often."

"Getting laid?" She laughed and Church could smell the mint gum she was chewing.

When he made an offended noise, Wash laughed slightly. "Don't tease him, Tex."

Church wrinkled his nose at her. "Yeah, Tex. Don't tease me."

"Aw, poor Church," Tex stuck out her lip in mock sympathy.

"Fuck you."

Wash groaned. "You two are giving me a headache already."

~*~

When the three of them woke up in the same bed the following morning, they ignored their pounding headaches to stay there until noon. With little effort, Texas managed to convince her boys to stay the weekend at her place.

From there, the three of them were nearly inseparable. Washington started to join Texas at the diner for breakfast each morning. They spent every free night together, going out on dates or staying in.

As time passed, more and more of Washington's and Church's possessions started to make their way into Texas's apartment. They purchased a fan for the warm summer nights where it was too hot to touch each other, let alone snuggle. Wash had to do his laundry at the laundromat down the street because there was no room for him. Church moved his gaming consoles over from his house, as he had gotten tired of lugging them back and forth.

The first person any of them told about their unconventional relationship was Tucker. He had gotten suspicious of the blonde power couple that sat in Church's section every morning and had read his friend's texts over his shoulder. He had been surprisingly cool about it, only occasionally teasing Church about his taste in people.

The first fight they had was when Washington refused to introduce the two of them to his family. After hours of arguing, the three of them slammed the doors to their separate apartments. They were all reminded of how cold and empty their beds were when they were alone. The next day, after a tearful confession from Washington, they all vowed to sleep in the same bed.

The first important day that they spent together was Christmas. Even though Church had never really celebrated the holiday, he let his two lovers pull him into wrapping presents and setting up the Christmas tree. When Texas and Washington fell asleep on Church's shoulders on Christmas night, his eyes got a little misty as he looked at them. He decided that he had had too much eggnog.

The first "I love you" came from Texas. She had announced it to her two boyfriends while they were cooking dinner for her in the kitchen. She had said it so casually that Washington and Church almost missed it. When they said it back, the words formed easily on their lips, like they were meant to be said.

The first bump they hit was the anniversary of Allison's death. Church spent the day at his cousin's house and came home exhausted. When he crawled into bed after having his first cigarette in months, he curled up in between Texas and Washington and cried. They listened to his memories of Allison, how she used to sneak him extra dessert or how she would push him the highest on the swings. After he had fallen asleep, the two of them wrapped their arms around Church, guarding him from the nightmares.

Their first anniversary almost passed them by. It was Washington who remembered. At the last minute, they threw together a respectable dinner with candles and wine. They spent the rest of the night drinking and laughing at late night infomercials. They fell asleep on the couch with the TV on in the background.

The first big step they took was renting a house together. Even though they had all practically moved in with Texas, it had started to get cramped with three people living in a place meant for one. It took months of saving before they could afford the house and everything in it, but when they finally could, it was well worth the wait. They finally had their own space and didn't have to worry about making too much noise.

~*~

As Church reflected on the past year and a half of his life, he tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh. He glanced up at the clock on the stove, then back down at his phone. The screen was empty, which was unusual for the time of night, especially when his partners were not yet home. It was late, way later than was normal for Church to be alone. If either of them was going to be late, they would've told him.

With a grumble, Church pulled up his phone to send both of them another text asking where the hell they were. After he had done that, he sent one to Carolina, questioning what was keeping the other Freelancers.

He waited there, on the couch with the TV on in the background. Somewhere around midnight, he resigned himself to sleeping where he was and curled up under a blanket. He missed the feeling of laying against Wash's chest while Tex played with his hair.

When he woke up, he expected to be laying in his bed with the smell of bacon in the air and Tex kissing him in apology. Instead, he was still on the couch with a crick in his neck. Their cat, Epsilon, meowed at him for food as he sat up, blearily rubbing his eyes.

The first thing he did was check his phone. Nothing. The feeling of dread that had been stirring in Church's stomach the night before started to grow. He quickly dialed Wash's phone. After a few rings, he was sent to voicemail.

"Hey, this is Washington. Sorry, but I'm not here right now. If you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!"

Church didn't bother with saying anything and hung up as soon as he heard the beep. Next, he tried Tex and got the same results. Before he could panic, Church sucked in a deep breath and told himself to think. After a few moments of consideration, he decided to try some of the other Freelancers.

York picked up on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hey, asshole, tell my uncle to let my partners go. I kind of need them eventually," Church said.

There was a brief pause that was filled with slight static. "Tex and Wash are missing too?" York asked, his voice flat and defeated.

Church clutched the phone tighter. "What happened? Is someone else missing?" He demanded sharply as he started to rush around his house, getting ready to leave.

"I haven't seen Carolina since yesterday morning. She was supposed to be done by five, but she didn't come home. When I called The Director, he said that they were just on an emergency mission," York explained hastily.

By the time he had finished speaking, Church was closing the door behind him. "I'm going to the MoI to talk to my uncle, wanna come?"

He could hear the faint sound of someone jogging on York's end. "I'll be there in ten." There was a click as the phone was hung up.

Church and York ended up getting there at the same time. Neither of them bothered with their usual banter and stormed into the Mother of Invention, the headquarters of Project Freelancer. York slowed his pace as The Director turned to glare at them, but Church walked right up to him until their chests were nearly touching.

"Where the hell are Tex, Wash, and Lina?" He demanded as he stared up at his uncle.

The Director stood his ground, but shot York an unimpressed look. "I'm afraid that is none of your concern, Leonard."

He scowled and gave his uncle the meanest look he could muster. "Oh, yes it is. Where are they?"

"I will tell you what I told Agent York. They are on an emergency mission and are expected back within the hour." He gestured to a row of cushy chairs that were set up in the lobby. "You are welcome to wait until they return."

His uncle stalked off, even though Church still had a thousand words to say, most of them being curses. York fell down into one of the seats with a resigned sigh. "Might as well get comfortable. This might take a while."

A while ended up beings five more hours. York had fallen asleep stretched out on his chair while Church played on his phone and toyed with the idea of going to buy a pack of cigarettes. He tried to ignore the urge, as he hadn't smoked in over four months.

The beep that signaled a new arrival rang throughout the Mother of Invention's lobby. Church didn't bother looking up, it was most likely just another one of The Director's employees.

"Church? What are you doing here?"

Tex's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Wash and Tex standing in the entryway. Both of them were rather banged up, with cuts and scrapes littering every visible bit of skin. They looked tired and sore, but they were both alive.

He couldn't help but jump up and run to wrap his arms around them. They were surprised, but hugged back. Church was vaguely aware of York greeting Carolina, but he was so focused on the relief he felt, he didn't think anything of it.

"If either of you ever does that ever again, I'm gonna kill you," he mumbled into Tex's chest.

He could feel her warmth and Wash's as he pressed closer. One of Tex's hands came up to stroke Church's hair, while the other went to Wash. Wash's breaths came steady and slow, calming Church's anxiety.

Wash feels the flush creep slowly up his cheeks at the implication. He is not virginal. Is not shy. Is generally up for anything. But something about this makes him squirm in the most pleasant of ways and drags heat to his cheeks.

He goes to lean against the door to the bedroom, looking in. Tex is there, sprawled out on the bed in shorts and sports bra. The kitten is in her lap. All five-plus feet of him plus tail and ears somehow curled up small enough to fit. There’s a fresh bruise on his neck, doubtless sucked and nipped there by Tex’s teeth. Was licks his lips at the sight, the bolt of lust going right through him. Fuck.

“Why is it,” he says, folding his arms over his chest, “that whenever he needs something like that, he’s my cat?”

Her smile is a flashfire glint of white teeth and she curls her fingers in the kitten’s hair. “You know why.”

“Right.” He hates how his voice comes out as a squeak.

He crosses over towards the bed. They’d sprung for a king size and he’s still not sure how they’d managed to get it into the house. When he’s close enough, Tex reaches out and fists her hand into his t-shirt, dragging him down for a rough kiss that’s all teeth and tongue and hunger. Wash whines against her lips, kisses back just as eagerly until his lips are humming with the pressure.

Of course Church, being an asshole, makes an asshole cat when he wants to be. Oh sure, he can be cute as he pleases, will sit for hours to be petted and curl up across both their laps. But Wash is pretty sure he’s caught him knock stuff off tables just for the hell of it, and he’ll shove tablets and books out of the way when he wants attention.

Which is why it’s only half a surprise when Wash feels the kitten’s claws dig into his stomach.

“Ow, hell, the fuck did you do that for?” He pulls away from Tex and glares down at the kitten.

The kitten smirks back at him, leans back off Tex’s lap and across the bed, his cock outlined through the think material of the satiny panties, and says, deliberately, “Meow.”

Wash shares a look with Tex, who shrugs and tucks a strand of blond hair back behind her ear. “Don’t look at me, rookie, he’s your damn cat.”

He lets out a breath, a sharp huff, then crawls onto the bed anyway, his jeans starting to feel too tight. The kitten is on his back and Wash reaches for his belly to stroke it, fingers meeting smooth warm skin. Immediately Church digs nails into his hand hard enough to leave crescent nail marks, and drags his hand up to his mouth. Then it’s a flick of his tongue against the pads of Wash’s fingers, the curl of it around them, and the slow suck as Church drags one into his mouth.

Wash’s breath stutters, his mouth going dry as Church drags his tongue across his knuckles. His eyes, electric blue, meet Wash’s, and the kitten makes no attempt to hide his grin.

“Get on with it.” Tex kicks him in the ass with one socked foot, and she means to be gentle, but it still sends him sprawling forward and he catches himself on all fours over Church. “Kitten won’t wait forever to get fed.”

“Yeah, Wash,” Church says. “The kitten is hungr- ow!”

“Kittens don’t talk,” Tex says, drawing her hand back from the slap she’d given Church’s thigh. Church opens his mouth and Wash glances back just in time to see Tex each between Church’s legs to tug on the tail plug embedded in his ass. “Kittens don’t bitch and moan either.”

Church rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t hesitate before reaching up to drag his nails down Wash’s chest again, rucking the fabric of his t-shirt as he does. It gets pushed up in short order and then Church’s hands are sliding down the front of his jeans. Fuck, why had he worn jeans? Why not sweats? Especially when Church curled his fingers and began to knead.

“Fuck.” Wash groaned, his fingers fisting into the bed sheet on either side of Church’s head. With his cock restricted like that, he can feel every press of Church’s hands, the rub of material against sensitive flesh. His hips jerk into the touch and Church-

-stops.

“Mew?” he says, meeting Wash’s gaze unrepentantly when it flies to his face.

“You know,” Wash growls, “bad kittens get shut out of the bedroom at night and have to sleep in the kitten bed.”

“I swear if I have to listen to him whine all night again-” Tex says and she nudges Wash again hard. He looks over at her, shifts his weight to one hand and Church chooses that moment to start kneading again, a little more insistent.

Tex has her hand down the front of her shorts and Wash can see the way her fingers move through the tight, stretchy material. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination. He starts to move towards her, instinctive reaction to seeing the colour on her cheeks and the sheen of her lips, but Church grabs him, hand tight around his cock, and drags his attention back. He feels like he’s been tricked somehow, drawn into a trap because he sure as hell isn’t the in charge here.

Church leans up to lick at his chin and lips while he continues to fondle Wash’s erection. The movement makes Church’s abs bunch, flex, his tight body so close to him. Wash catches Church’s lips into a deep kiss and he slides a hand into Church’s hair to hold him still. It rubs through Church’s hair, over the band holding the furry black ears. He presses his tongue into Church’s mouth, fucking him with it while Church gives up on stroking him and scrabbles against his shoulders instead, trying to drag him down into something more demanding.

It’s Wash’s turn to pull away, leaving Church to whine beneath him. “Getting hungry, kitty?” he asks, his voice saccharine. He gives the cat ears a condescending stroke.

Church bares his teeth and hisses at him.

“If he bites you, I’m not gonna stop him, Wash,” Tex says.

“He won’t bite,” Wash says, grins at her then back at Church. “Will you?”

Church runs his tongue over his teeth but his look verges on eager, the cant of his head and the hardness that presses against Wash’s backside when he settles back on his knees to unfasten the fly of his jeans. Church’s attention is immediately rapt on him; Wash can see the flick down of his eyes towards his crotch as Wash shimmies out of them. No underwear. Never quite got used to it, too long wearing an armour undersuit. He jumps when he feels hands on his hips, Tex’s slim fingers sliding down his thighs to pull them off completely, holding him when he raises up on his knees to get rid of them. She squeezes his ass, slides a hand between his thighs, over his balls until he gives her the reaction that she wants, and moans.

“That’s what I like to hear, rookie,” she says, the old nickname devoid of any condescension. Her lips are against his backside, heated breath and hard hands and the scrape of teeth and-

“Fuck!” An imprint of teeth on his buttocks, Tex’s chin pressed against the hollow of his back.

“Never said I wouldn’t bite you.”

Church is smirking at him again, and there’s a roll of his hips beneath Wash’s. Tex nudges him forward and Wash shuffles along the length of Church’s body until his cock is nudging at the kitten’s lips.

“Such a good owner, feeding the kitten,” Tex says. Her hand rests against the back of Wash’s neck for a moment, scruffing him, and who’s the kitten here?

There is no preamble. Church opens his mouth, wraps lips and his slick tongue around Wash’s dick, sucks him down hard and deep. All Wash can do is moan, his hips jerking into Church’s mouth, little movements that he tries to stop but can’t quite. He doesn’t just suck is the thing, oh no, Church takes pride in it. His tongue runs the length of Wash’s dick, teases at the slit until he’s blind and deaf to anything but the sight and sound of Church sucking him off.

He comes hard,, spilling in Church’s mouth, and the kitten swallows around him, doesn’t even pause in what he’s doing. Keeps sucking at him until he’s spent and sensitive, his legs shaking from holding himself up above the kitten.

“Christ, Church,” Wash groans as he pulls free, flexes his hands wide then closed to keep some semblance of control because he wants to grab Church right now, drag those panties down, but that’s not the game is it?

The bed shifts as Tex crawls up to kneel by the kitten’s head. She strokes her thumb against Church’s lips to wipe away a smear of come that he hadn’t caught. “Good meal, kitten?”she says, and the note in her voice makes Wash shiver. “Or are you still hungry?”

Wash sees Church mouth the curse voicelessly, before Tex drags a hand into the kitten’s hair and pulls it back to an angle that has to be painful. The crotch of her shorts is damp already and Wash gets the image of the kitten’s pink tongue lapping against the material between her legs. It bunches against his tongue, and Wash watches as the muscles of Tex’s strong legs shift and tense as Church pleasures her.

She looks up at him, a half smile on her lips and hooks her thumbs into the waistband of the shorts then drags them down. Church whines when she pulls away to get them off, where Wash lingers on the slow reveal of flesh, heavy with muscle and sinew and strength. “Think the kitten should get a reward?”

She hurls the shorts across the room. Wash doesn’t look away to see where they fall. “Yeah. If you’re happy with him. He did eat all his food.”

Church stretches out his tongue towards her, eager for her when she’s just out of reach. Out of reach for him anyway. Wash leans in for a kiss and she shifts forward to meet him, legs splayed over Church’s head and he feels the gasp and shiver she makes when he starts to lick her.

“Kitten is very hungry,” he says, amusement curling warm in his voice and his reward is Tex’s exasperated look as she nudges him away.

She’s a sight to behold like that, Church working her with his hot mouth. Her throat bobs and the movement of her chest and breasts in even restrained by the sports bra. Her bare stomach contracts. Sweat beads on her face.

The kitten’s panties are silky beneath his palm as he starts to fondle Church’s cock, rubbing it slowly. He’s hard, only constrained by the thin material, cock pressed up against his stomach. The satin is damp with pre-come and sweat and Wash drags his thumb nail against the tip of his cock, pressing down just enough to be felt. His reward is the way that Church’s toes curl, digging into the mattress.

He pulls the material back and slides his hand down to grip Church’s cock. Church makes an obscene noise, his face pressed between Tex’s thighs and the shudder works right through her body.

Church’s dick is hard and heavy in his palm. He strokes it firmly, squeezes, rests his free hand against the planes of Church’s stomach. The muscles jump beneath his touch. He keeps stroking, flicks his thumb against the tip, an edge of roughness that Church loves, even though his moans are muffled against the heat of Tex’s body.

When he comes it’s quiet, spilling over Wash’s hand as his whole body goes tight and taut, hips jerking up off the bed. He can hear him pant briefly, and he imagines what Tex must feel, the hot slide of breath and tongue against her folds.

She is not so quiet, not muffled or restrained. It’s a feral growl of pleasure and her nails digging into Church’s shoulders hard enough to leave ragged red lines in his skin.  

She goes still and calm for a moment, the eye of her very own hurricane of energy, and then drops back onto the bed, legs splayed on either side of Church’s head, with a low groan of “fuck.”

Church’s face is slick and he circles his lips with his tongue, lapping away her taste, what he can reach anyway. Wash ducks down to kiss him, tasting them both. “Good kitten,” Wash murmurs against his lips and licks a stripe of heat along Church’s jaw.

Church bats him away lazily. It makes him look more kittenish than ever. “Now who’s the cat, Washington. Fuck I am aching.”

“Fucking noisy cats, both of you,” Tex yowls, and the sports bra catches Wash in the face when she hurls it at them. “Lie the fuck down.”

“You heard the boss,” Wash says, smirks at Church.

“Needy assholes, both of you,” is Church’s response, like he hasn’t been as greedy as either of them.

“You’re the one with the butt plug and cat ears,” Wash replies as he crawls his way up the bed to Tex’s side. She’s splayed out already, so it’s easy to curl in against her side.

“Yeah well,” Church says, the falter in his voice indicating his slight embarrassment, “I’m your fucking pet aren’t I? I’m supposed to be needy.”

He flops down on Tex’s other side. Wash sees him wince and shift to find a comfortable position.

“Want the plug out?” Wash asks, because the tail cannot be the most comfortable thing to lie down in.

Tex tilts her head to look between them both. “Nah, leave it in. He loves it.”

Church huffs and presses his face against Tex’s shoulder like he’s so done with them.

    Echo. No better name for the memories of a destroyed being, tearing through your mind like the screaming pain of a dying being. Going out not with a whimper or a shout, but curses at the world and the resolve to bring everything down around the two of you.

    But that was three years ago, Washington. So very, very long, and your life is so very, very different now. The walls around you are white, padded, one long mirror against another wall that is unbreakable. You know that, because you’ve tried more than a few times. In those moment where the temptation to follow Echo into the peaceful silence of oblivion had been overwhelming. Last time you tried was nearly a year and a half ago, but sometimes you consider just one more experiment. You know how it will go down to the tiniest detail, though, stuck in your head as data from previous attempts. That’s another gift Echo left you with. Perfect recall of all Echo knew. Perfect recall of everything since. A lot of the stuff before Echo, though? That’s all a blur.

    You know a lot about Project Freelancer, but most of what you know is through Echo’s eyes, and beyond that, the Alpha. You know what it is to have your mind stretched into what feels like the limitless depths of a ship of the line. Know what it’s like to think so deeply and so much that it slowly starts to fill up your finite amount of space, and you know what it’s like to know you have a very definite timer on your life. You know why Alpha was to be split. You know how. You know so much and so very, very little.

    And you know what will happen when you close your eyes, Washington, because it’s happened a hundred thousand times over, every time you’ve closed your eyes since Echo tore through your mind with blades of acid and glass and fire, destroying and melting and cauterizing all in one go so you can never truly heal again in your life. Echo flailed through your mind with ethereal hands ending in claws so sharp that you feel like they should have torn through your own skin and left physical scars instead of metaphorical ones. Then again, for all you know, there are scars in your brain matter, dead cells never to be recovered because of Echo’s rampage.

    But you close your eyes anyway, and in the peace of the moment, you open yourself up to the sensations that the ghosts of a ghost offers you.

    Because when you close your eyes, that’s when he comes.

    He’s younger than you know you should remember. The parts of you that still have some of Alpha know that face, older, tired, sad. Pained. But Washington, you don’t have too many memories of the Director yourself. Only what Echo gave you of a younger man, light in his eyes, a smile on his lips, and love in his heart. God you can see it when you remember how he looks at you. There is joy and longing and possession in that gaze, and you remember it rolling over your body like a touch.

    You rise to meet your ghostly lover, your arms up around his neck as you get up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. Light at first, and then deeper, hungrier, not angry but definitely possessive. He opens up beneath your attention, Washington, because he always does. Since you met he’s been putty in your hands and those hands rub now in his hair, against his scalp as his hands settle on your hips.

    Before you know it the two of you are stretched out on a bed, and his hands undress you both with a tenderness you know too well. Only you get touched like this, only you get to see how gentle your Leonard is. His lips on your neck, on your shoulders, leaving the lightest of marks down your chest and a quick flash of a tongue over your nipple and you gasp.

    When it first started, that part always jarred you awake. Echo, Alpha, Allison, none of them are Washington. They remember a different body, different bodies, different forms they possessed. A woman, a mother, a soldier who never had the advantages of full power armor and a team of the very best at her back. No, you aren’t even remotely Allison, a long dead woman that served at the basis of an AI for reasons you’ve never really understood. In a manner you never could figure out. Alpha never knew how she came to be, how it was possible for her to exist so long after the death of her originator. Perhaps she’d been flash-cloned before, memory mapped and just held dormant in storage. Washington doesn’t even know if that’s possible.

    But that was then, and this is now, and now, Washington, you don’t care that the body you remember as your own is hers. Smaller, leaner, softer in all the beautiful ways that women are. Because what you remember is always him, what you’re overwhelmed with is always Echo’s mournful love of the man who created her, Alpha’s devotional love to the man she worked with, and what the two of them remember of Allison’s love of her husband, the father of her child, the man she meant to come back to.

    His hands ghost over your hips, and you moan because his lips are far lower than that. He was always eager, you remember that Washington. Some small part of you, it wishes that you’d done the unthinkable during the Program. Hell, that you would do it now. But you don’t have the courage, Washington. Even if the Director were to visit here tomorrow, you don’t know that you could push him up against he wall and kiss him the way you remember kissing him. Make him moan and plead for you like you know he can and has.

    But that is Allison talking in your head. Allison through Alpha through Echo, and all you are to the Director is a failed experiment who went crazy and got locked in a box.

    So you close your eyes at night and remember the press of his tongue, the way he whispers to ask if you’re okay, the pleasure of pressing him down into the mattress below you and riding him. And always, always you remember the love in his eyes and the devotion in his words and the perfection of the moments spent together.

    When you wake up in the mornings, Washington, you have to remind yourself who you are. Try to draw the lines between you and her once more. It never works, but maybe, maybe someday. Maybe someday Echo and Alpha and Allison will just be her, and you will be you, and you won’t love the man who has ruined your life.

    Maybe tomorrow.

    Maybe someday.