#haaaaank

After leaving the AAHW for good, you decided to pursue your true passion: cooking. Granted, the only thing you could really make out of the supplies you had access to were hotdogs, but you were sure they’d be the best in Nevada if you perfected the recipe. It was certainly better than whatever slop the agency served anyhow.

Due to the fact that you were an excellent chef, you gained a lot of loyal customers in a short time. Agents, Mercs, Bandits, even the murderous clown himself (“Tricky” he said his name was. Well, shouted, but still.) bought from you, and quite frequently at that. You decided not to bring up the fact that he murdered all your past coworkers, no point in having a grudge against him.

It seems that no matter who you were or what group you belonged to, a hot meal that actually tastes good was too much to pass up. As such, it was really no surprise to you when the three most wanted criminals in the entirety of Nevada stopped by your cart. After Tricky’s regular patronage, nothing really shocked you anymore.

However, they couldn’t say the same. When Sanford and Deimos first stumbled upon you in the middle of a dilapidated city, they were stunned to see you going about your business, serving Fanatics of all people as gunfire echoed from behind them. When you spotted them, you simply gave a tired, but welcoming grin. “Hello, what can I get ya?” Were you crazy?!

They were apprehensive at first, wondering if you were planted here to poison them or something. After waiting around for a few minutes and seeing the others not drop dead and/or choke and convulse on the floor from the hotdogs, they hesitantly stepped forward and placed their own orders. (They’d been out all day, so hopefully Doc wouldn’t mind if they took a break to catch a quick bite.) Your food was much better than expected, Deimos even thought you outdid Gil and his burgers. (Which you thought was high praise, Gil was famous for a reason. Nice guy too.)

You became fast friends with the two early on, as they made a point of stopping by whenever they knew you were in the area. They'd stick around and entertain you as you went about completing orders, Deimos telling jokes and stories with Sanford adding on with enough context for you to know what they were talking about. The latter would even swap recipes and cooking tips with you, much to your delight (it'd been a long time since you spoke to anyone who knew how to do more than scramble an egg).

They were nice enough to give you little updates on whatever chaos they'd been a part of in the area, or warn you when they thought danger was coming. The two would even crowd around you like bodyguards when one of your more intimidating customers came up. Really, you had that part of your job handled, but it was still pretty nice of them.

Then, of course, there was Hank. You'd originally met him through Tricky, in probably the most unconventional way possible. The two had been having another one of their fights in the area, and you had looked up from the tongs you'd been cleaning to see the clown get thrown out of a window right in front of you, face planting into the dirt near your cart. After taking a quick glance at your cart to make sure none of the broken glass had damaged anything (or gotten into your food, that wouldn't pass inspection), you leaned over your "counter" to get a better look at him. "Hey, you good?"

Hank paused in confusion when he threw open the door, finding the clown handing over some cash to you for a couple of hotdogs instead of getting ready to rush at him again. ...What?

It even seemed like Tricky had forgotten all about their altercation, as he didn't pay any notice to Hank at all. He just gave you a cheery (and loud) goodbye before waving and disappearing underground, his sign disappearing into an alley. (You couldn't help but grimace. He should have eaten before going into the dirt. Seems you'd have to remind him again.)

It happened too quickly for Hank to even react, and you looked over to find him staring blankly at the hole the clown left in the ground. You coughed (trying to hold back a laugh) and his red gaze flashed up to you. Immediately, he pulled his pistol out and aimed it at you. (The clown hadn't even tried injuring you. Were you an ally of his?)

You put your hands up in a placating gesture, showing him that you were harmless (though you only half expected to be spared. This was Hank J. Wimbleton, after all). "Hey man, I don't know either...Do you want a hotdog or something? I've got barbecue sauce."

He lowered his gun.

Soon you had another murderous grunt for a regular. While you couldn't say for sure if he thought of you as a friend, he certainly didn't make himself scarce. He seemed to appear even more than Sanford and Deimos, the only warning being the sound of incoming gunfire before he showed up out of nowhere. He was one of those regulars who tended to show up almost daily, and he seemed pleased when you always had his usual order prepared.

(2BDamned was quick to take took notice of this change in Hank's routine. He was always quick with completing missions, but now he was taking twice the amount of time he usually did. He outright asked him about it and was met with a simple response. "I got hungry" was all he said, refusing to elaborate further before he left on another job. Looks like Doc would have to do his own investigating.)

While Hank was around you a lot, he didn't talk nearly as much as the other two. The most you'd heard him say was a raspy "Thanks" once you gave him a free drink, but that was fine. He seemed content just standing near you as he ate. (You were taken aback by his metal jaw though. That couldn't have been comfortable).

The only problem you had was his unfortunate habit of murdering/scaring away the line of people who would queue up for you. ('That's a lot of money that just went down the drain,' you thought, sighing in exasperation. Then again, there was nothing stopping you from going through their pockets now.)

Overall, the three thought you were odd, but they were grateful for you (and your food, of course). Finding someone who actually didn’t want to kill them was pretty rare, but someone who seemed almost completely non-hostile was almost unheard of. You were a breath of fresh air, and they were glad to call you a friend.

(You did show favoritism towards them, even if you didn't admit it. You'd say your kindness was just because they were regulars, but the increased amount of change you'd give them "by accident" and the free pretzels and wings you'd hand out when you noticed they looked more tired than usual revealed it.)

While they could never tell where exactly you'd be, they knew which areas you frequented. Given this fact, it was very suspicious when none of them came across you for a few weeks. Deimos and Sanford were worried; they did have a lot of enemies, what if they targeted you for being close with them?

Meanwhile, Hank would take longer on missions, using his outings as a chance to search the area for you at the other's request. He had an inkling that you were fine (he was confident that he'd have found your cart or something by now if you were dead), but the way you disappeared without a trace caused him some concern.

2BDamned, who had received enough intel from the SQ's agents to know about the easy-going hotdog vendor, knew that your relocation was probably the cause for their weird behavior. He had received a note from you, accepting his request to work as a cook for the SQ, but had decided not to mention it. He figured they'd find out soon enough and slid them a mission briefing the next day asking them to enter an "abandoned" AAHW facilities to look for some supplies. Of course, he also neglected to inform them that the AAHW was also seen still milling about in the area. He figured that if they witnessed your combat skills in action, it would make it easier for them to stop being so protective. Then there would be no issue with the more covert things he had planned for you to handle. (Customer service jobs happen to be excellent for recon and information gathering.)

Doc had told them that the building was cleared out already, so they weren't really cautious when they entered the place. It was just a typical in and out job, not like their raids. They immediately headed to the armory, filling their packs with as much ammunition and guns they as could fit (though Hank was more focused on the blades). After they'd hefted the heavy duffel bags up onto their shoulders, they exited the room, weaving back through the corridor the way they came in.

But as they came to a fork in the hallway, Deimos paused, looking at the signs on the wall. One path lead to the exit, but the other pointed to the canteen. And it had been a while since he's eaten.

"Why don't we stop there? I'm sure Doc won't mind if we get something, it'll only take a few minutes."

Sanford was quick to agree, but Hank just refused (he was one of those people who rarely ever felt hungry anyway). They tried bribing him with one of the guns, but he just ignored them as he continued on his way. Well, it was his loss.

Sanford froze after opening the door to the cafeteria. There was some loud rustling from the other side of the room, and he saw something moving from behind the counter. He exchanged a quick glance with Deimos, hand nearing his hook as he stepped closer to the source of the noise.

They tensed as the person behind the counter popped their head up, only to relax when they saw a familiar face. Your eyes widened in surprise when you recognized them, and you grinned up at the two before rising to stand, dusting off your apron. "Hey, figured you two would show up. Your usual?"

"I-what?" Deimos sputtered, "We've been looking all over for you! Why the hell are you out here?!"

"Did my note not reach you?" You asked, cocking your head. "I tried to let you know that I got a new place. Hotdog cart kinda got...uh..destroyed? No, scrapped would be a better word."

Sanford gave you a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry we weren't there to protect you. Was it the Nexus?"

You shrugged, "Nah, AAHW. Let's just say they hold a grudge." (You conveniently forgot to mention the fact that you had dismantled the cart. It was hard to make sides when blood gunked up the fryer. Plus, smashing someone's head into it happened to dent it pretty bad. The bandits you gave the scrap to didn't mind the remaining gore, though.)

"What'd you do to piss 'em off?" Deimos asked, leaning on the counter as you shuffled around, returning to the prep work you were busy with before they walked in. It was close to closing time.

"Eh, you know. Deserted and stole a bunch of money, maybe a few guns. Typical ex-agent stuff. I honestly thought 2BDamned would've told you by now, he said you'd be coming to recruit me. Aren't you supposed to get briefed on this or something?"

They looked at you in silence for a moment before exploding with questions. ("You deserted? Me too!" "You stole from the AAHW?" "Wait, are you the "supply" we were supposed to get?" (That last one made you raise a brow.))

You just blinked as they rambled on, not able to really answer anything as they talked over each other. A bit exasperated at this point, you were about to interrupt them when a slam of the door caught your attention, making them pause and whip around.

It was Hank, drenched in blood and holding someone's dismembered arm. "We've got company," he said curtly, giving you a nod of acknowledgement before heading back out. (He was a bit surprised to see you, but the AAHW's raid was more pressing.)

Sanford and Deimos nodded at each other before making the move to leave, turning back to you for a brief moment. "Stay here, we'll take care of it. Just, like, duck behind the counter or something," Dei said before rushing out. You sighed. More agents, great.

The three had crowded near the entrance to the facility, trying to stop the flood of AAHW agents from getting deeper into the facility. Deimos quickly noticed a group break away from the rest and take a detour down another hallway, and he reloaded his gun, jumping up to go chase after them. Chances are they were looking for you, and he refused to let anyone harm you again.

"Shit, I'll go get them! You hold the rest back!" He shouted, and Sanford gave him a thumbs up.

"We got it, now go!"

Deimos sprinted down the hallway, growling when he saw the enemy grunts disappear into the cafeteria. He frantically burst through the doors, raising his guns at the backs of the agents who were rushing towards the counter. Before he could fire at them, they were all mowed down in quick succession, and he dove to the side to avoid a volley of loud gunfire. He peeked around a table to see you standing triumphantly before the shredded bodies of the agents and was that a fucking minigun?!?

He watched in shock as you used the heavy weapon to bludgeon the remaining few grunts into bloody pulps, viscera covering you as you caved in their chests and faces, ignoring their attempts to shield themselves as you forced their arms away. He flinched when you finally turned to him, the cold look in your eye sent a shiver down his spine. (For a brief moment, he was reminded of Hank. Were you always this terrifying in combat?)

He let out a breath when your eyes flashed in recognition, and you relaxed from your tense posture, lowering your bloodied weapon. "Oh, hey. Don't worry, I got this place covered. I'll catch up with you all in a bit, gotta get my stuff."

"I-um, yeah. I'll go and uh, help the others," he replied smartly, scratching the back of his neck as he left. What the fuck just happened?

When he returned back to the others alone, Sanford gave him a worried look as he joined him behind some cover. "Are they alright?" Deimos just nodded reassuringly as he drew his guns again.

"Yeah...they're just fine."

Soon Hank and Sanford would get their own show from you. Held in a stalemate with the agents, both sides trading potshots from cover, unable to move forward.

A sudden piercing noise had filled the air (a fire alarm?) and when the agents that pinned them down broke their concentration to look around in confusion, that's when you attacked. The others had taken this opportunity to return fire, but noticed shots cleanly piercing through the skulls of the agents and Soldats unfortunate enough to enter through the main entrance. They glanced back in confusion to see you, wielding one of the TAC-50 rifles they'd picked up. You simply gave them that same easy-going grin, even as your arms strained from the weight and recoil of the large gun. (You really should've been laying on the ground to fire that thing.)

With you blasting through the reinforcements with pinpoint accuracy, and your friends taking care of the remaining grunts who staying in the facility, the AAHW agents were defeated in no time. (Though, Hank and Sanford couldn't stop themselves from glancing back at you every now and then. You reloaded the gun in fluid motions, smooth from previous experience, and you didn't seem to struggle that much from the gun's kickback. The agents definitely weren't well trained, so how were you so good at this!?)

When the final Soldat met its end (a bullet ripping through the middle of their eyepiece, courtesy of you), Sanford immediately turned to face you. "What the hell was that?"

"I know, what the fuck?" Deimos added from next to you, and you chuckled in amusement. The dumfounded looks on their faces were really funny.

"What?" You asked as you rested the rifle on the wall next to you, leaning down next to Hank afterward to search the bodies. "Did you think I survived this long in Nevada alone through dumb luck?"

"Well, no," came Deimos' reply. "But the agency doesn't train people like this, believe me, I would know."

You leaned back in your crouched position, looking up at them. "Back at the AAHW, I was the instructor for weapons training and stuff like that for a bit, just until they found someone to replace the guy I was filling in for. It was my job."

Sanford gave you a pointed look. "That really doesn't explain it."

You held his gaze for a moment before sighing and looking back down to the body of the agent you'd been looting. "I don't know, probably instinct or something. Got the same thing with cooking, except way better. Doesn't matter now, though, I quit..."

You all worked in a stiff silence for a bit, the two easing off as you quite obviously didn't want to discuss your past work. Once you'd finished, you rose to your feet, wiping your dusty (and somewhat bloodstained) hands on your apron.

Sanford made an offhand remark as you walked through the door with them. "They must've paid you a lot, if you were so skilled."

At that, both you and Deimos made noises of disagreement. "The agency pays just enough to survive on, but it'll leave you living paycheck to paycheck. Definitely not enough for me to risk my life fighting the SQ, or a zombified clown"- Hank's gaze snapped to you and you gave him a tired smile-"See, he gets it."

At the other's questioning looks, Hank gave a stern order. "Don't ask."

(While sitting on the bed of their truck, and holding your cap to your head to stop it from flying away, you noticed Hank looking at you. You tilted your head, and he leaned a bit closer. "Is the clown going to be a problem?" You shrugged in a noncommittal gesture.