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have we considered Coupé being so used to constantly interacting with people through the lense of her job as an assassin that when she's all safe and comfortable with the Z-Team she's just. so awkward about it she doesn't know what to do
If there is a trope I love when it comes to Sonar/Coupé x Robert is the obsessively thankful fics. Like. Those where, after not being cut from the team they become super slightly obsessed with Robert out of thankfulness for keeping them.
I always find it interesting how different it is for both of them. Meanwhile Sonar becomes like a puppy trying to impress their owner, trying to be as good as he can on missions, bringing food to Robert (in all the fics I have found this is a very common trope)... Meanwhile Coupé becomes stalkerish, she follows Robert around under the pretense of "protecting" him, then they become close and realize just how alike they are due to their shared 'Child Soldier' childhood..
But now, I bring this to the table.. *slams file on table*.
Both of them getting bonderline obsessed in a no one gets cut AU.
Robert fought tooth and nail to not cut anyone. He went to HR, manipulated, threatened and pulled all the strings he could muster, called in all the favors he could, until finally HR accepted that, yes, Sharon, letting go of an ex-criminal to prove a point will only make the other ex-criminals go even more rogue rather than making them calm down.
So now Robert not only has one but two obsessed ex-criminals following him around. And you know what? He's rocking with it big time.
Once he gets home he leaves the door to his balcony wide open, knowing that Sonar at some point will get bored staying on the rooftop.
Whenever he gets take-out he orders two more of everything. Later on he memorizes Sonar's and Coupe's orders.
If when he's sleeping – if he entered the apartment one day to find a big ass bed that covered practically all the space in his tiny ass apartment.. yeah, that might or might not have been Sonar who is dang tired of sleeping in a half sitting position at Robert's feet. Sue him. – he wakes up to the feel of two bodies on top of him, he doesn't comment on it, doesn't even try to shuffle away, he simply throws an arm on top of whoever of the two got lucky to be on his chest and goes right back to sleep.
And the list goes on and goes fort.
Meanwhile you have Sonar and Coupé, who are going insane over the amount of affection and care their dispatcher is giving them. Neither of them are used to it, I mean, sure, Sonar's got Malevola, Coupé has Punch-Up. But it's not the same, you know?
Robert obviously knows, he most likely knew from the first day that it started. And he didn't care.
He asked once, what was it with the both of them, then never again.
And yes, Coupe might have kept her promise about 'eliminating' someone for Robert if he so needed. And yes, Sonar might have chugged down a fucker after he crossed the line with Robert at the bar.
But you know what? Robert did the same. Maybe not in the sinister, killing-people sense, but he protected them, he cared for them, he understands them.
And maybe that's all it takes for a woman who only knows how to kill and torture, a child soldier, to fall.
Maybe that's all it takes for a man whose instincts scream at him to protect, to mark, to keep, to cage and never let go, to accept them, to fall.
And Robert? Robert is much the same. There's only so much care and such obvious love and devotion that can be shown to a man before he wishes to trap it and keep it all to himself. What if he becomes a little violent when it comes to them? What if he crosses the line of good and goes towards the morally gray in order to keep them by his side? Who is going to stop him? He knows that if someone tries, chances are their ears are going to be blown and a blade is going to be launched at their neck. And that doesn't even compare to what he is capable of doing for them.
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Coupe was never prepared for how Punch Up made her feel so much like a lady.
Their passionate affair? Yes, that instant connection was something else, bloodlust bleeding into actual lust bleeding into touch starved connection— that was one thing, certainly, the carnality of it. The enjoyment of it. The fact that she could touch and touch and he would never break— something so secure about it, and humbling, to find a match in her skills.
But then it’s afterwards.
She’s laid out on a bed a bit too small for her body, and her target is gone. She actually fell asleep, somehow. She should leave, get away before he realizes just how vulnerable he has her, get her back for trying to kill him. But then the door opens, and she freezes, ready to strike, because now she’s aware just how vulnerable she is, and that is more terrifying than she can ever admit—
“Hey, I brought you some coffee, darlin’,” A voice far too soft for yesterday’s activities comes, and her eyes snap open. If he detects her confusion, he doesn’t show it. Just a dapper smile, holding one big mug and two empty cups. “Doubt you’d need the pick me up, but I got some cheap-ass liquor in a cabinet some where if you take it strong. Otherwise, can’t offer much else, sorry— fridge’s a bit empty o’ sugar or milk.”
Coupe sits up, careful, eyes going over him. She’s never truly failed before— it was never allowed. It had been very thoroughly taught that failure meant death. If not from her trainers, then from those she had tried to kill—
And yet here he was offering her coffee. Like she was… a hook up, a date, like from the shitty romcoms she secretly watched in between targets, or when she’d go undercover and just had to buy herself one of those edgy romance novels to definitely not actually read. She hesitated, taking a mug. She waited for him to pour himself a cup first, wondering if poisons would affect him at all either. “I can take it black, Mr…” She hesitated.
“Name’s Colm, by the way. And if may I have the pleasure of knowing yours?”
She knew his name, of course. She’d been paid to kill him after all. That was why she hesitated to say it. But he responded so… genially. “… Janelle.” It was foolish, dangerous, against every code she knew— but when Colm beamed at her, and poured her cup, it felt like she had done something right. She carefully took a sip, and the warmth of a cup of mediocre coffee had never been so inviting.
They never made it official, her work would never allow it, her vices doubly so. But when they crossed paths, for some reason they always ended up crossing paths, he’s always got something to say, or do, that made her melt bit by bit.
“Silver looks good on you,” when she first changed her suit to its more deadly design. That time, he’d asked her to take a break before her next kill, and go out with him. They did end up going to a pub with a fighting ring in it… but he’d gifted her the silver champion belt. “Got a ton of these things, you know. I’m sure a pretty lass like you could use it.” And she did— melted down, it made a lovely knife.
“Can you stop getting hits on you? It’s a bad look to explain to clients you’re unkillable.” She had said another time, drinking with him at a bar, laughing softly as he teased an olive into her mouth.
“Hey, not my fault you get hired by sore losers.” Colm would laugh, before his eyes narrowed suddenly. “Speaking of losers. Those guys have been staring at you for a while. Friends of yours?”
“Oh, the ones sitting over at the end of the bar? They’re actually some hits of mine, believe it or not. They’re probably casing the whole bar for any one matching my description. Talking to you is giving me some great cover, actually, since I’m not known for being so friendly with anyone.” She leaned in close,
“Oh, that makes sense. Still, I don’t like the look they got in their eyes. I could take care of them for you, if you’d like?”
Coupe paused at that, before she just laughed, and laughed. Softly at first, but harder when she realized he was serious, draping herself over Colm despite their height difference. Because someone being concerned about her? Of all people? That hadn’t happened in a long time— and it felt so, so nice, it made her giddy, like one of her romantasy protagonists. She cupped his face, seeing how his eyes widened as she got so close, and whispered.
“Only if I get to watch.”
“When did you cut your hair, darlin’?” He asks, the next time they got together, on the rooftop of a casino in Los Angeles, the last of her savings spent on the drink she was nursing in her hand.
“My knives kept slicing through my longer hair.” It was a lie. A half lie, sort of. They did do that, she just didn’t care. No, this time was because of her last hit. Well, she hadn’t been paid, and wouldn’t be by her old trainers ever again. Still, you do come to mourn those who raised you, in some sense. Colm seemed to notice something off about her demeanor, and choice his next words carefully.
“It gives you… a stately look, mature. Wisened, I should say.”
Janelle considered those words, overlooking the city skyline. “If I were wiser, I’d get out the assassin business.”
Colm reached out, a put a comforting hand on her elbow. “Well, you could, if you want to. Meself, I’ve got a gig lined up. You could… You could even stay with me, you know. Until you find out something else, you wanna do.”
It wasn’t a fairytale proposal, or the grim dark declaration of mad love she’d come to enjoy in her novels. But yet, it made her feel quite a bit more than she’d like to admit, like a damsel being offered a ride from a valiant prince. “I think I’d like that, Colm. A lot.”
Herman was suspicious when the Z-Team eagerly invited him over to the table in the break room. They weren't he meanest to him, not nearly as mean as his bullies in school, but they weren't exactly his friends.
His suspicions were confirmed when Alice's phone speaker started playing some new beat she had made. Along with his voice. His remixed stuttering, hesitations, and misspoken words played to the group. His heart drops into his gut, realizing all the times he had hung out with Alice, she'd just been using it as an opportunity to record him.
"This is the most coherent I think you've ever sounded, ladie!" Colm gasps through his laughter, barely heard over everyone else.
"Oh yeah! Never sounded - never better! It's really good, better than before." Herman chuckles, sinking his teeth into the inside of his cheek. Don't let them see you cry. That'll only make it worse. He thought, waiting until the song was over. "Good job on my, your song. Great song." Herman manages, pulling himself from Alice's side.
He doesn't wait for more teasing, quickly excusing himself from the room. The only evidence that he'd been there was the teams laughter about the puddle he left by Alice.
For the past two weeks, Herman has limited his vocabulary to four words. Yes, no, good, thanks.
At first, the teasing didn't stop. He could hear Sonar and Flambae singing the song over coms, and Alice would ask what his favorite part was. Colm and Janelle are the first ones to pick up on Herman's sudden withdrawal.
He doesn't sit in the break room if anyone is inside. He doesn't socialize with them off of calls. His hero work was good before, but in his silence, he was slowly climbing the leader board. If he was good enough, maybe his team would actually like him.
"You doing okay, Herm?" Janelle asks, sneaking up on the lanky man in the break room. "You aren't avoiding us, are you?"
"I am." Herman shrugs his shoulders, not looking up from the mug spinning around in the microwave. Janelle blinks, clearing her throat a little as she thinks of her next step. She hadn't expected such honesty from him.
"I'm sorry about the song. It wasn't that funny." Her quiet tone was apologetic enough that Herman looked at her from the corner of his eye.
"You laughed. It was funny enough that you laughed. Didn't even say, try to say, anything to defend - to stick up for me. Just like a joke, I'm like a joke to you." He mumbles as he takes his coffee and slams the microwave door shut. It was a little harder than intended, but he couldn't be bothered to care.
"You're all bullies." He states, staring her in the eye. His voice didn't tremble, a flat monotone voice that almost sent a chill up Janelle spine. Without another word, he walks past her and out of the room, avoiding Robert's gaze as they pass each other in the doorway.
Robert steps into the room, zeroing in on Janelle and Courtney, who had been eavesdropping the entire time. "What the fuck was he talking about?" He demands, looking between the two women.
When I did my first playthrough of Dispatch, I always see people pick Sonar over Coupé. And I can understand why because Sonar is a pretty funny character but I really wanted to keep Coupé to see any differences. I’m not sure what it is about her that immediately made me like her, but there is one scene from the game that nobody talks about. During the last episode, when you have to send everyone out when the Red Ring sends the city into chaos, there are certain dialogues from the characters that were interesting. The most iconic of course is when Flambae is downed and gives up, but heals himself to spite Robert. What people don’t talk about is when it happens to Coupé, when she’s downed she sounds hopeless and defeated. And then Robert tells her that there’s people that need her, this alone lifts up her spirit. Touched by Robert’s words as she heals herself for him. THAT, is why I can see them have potential. Coupé being an assassin and is so used to bringing harm upon others because it’s her job, but Robert gives her a chance to see that she’s essential to saving lives rather than taking them. Give me more soft Coupé now.
