And You're Screwed [Donald]

[Deleted]

all blades in the shadows are close to you

Iain was amused, highly amused. That day when he sat there, listening in on a conversation of some unfortunate agent who had left his radio on, the Scotsman was grinning to the point where the other researchers thought that some demon had possessed the Quartermaster they usually see with a frown. That or he was uncharacteristically found something so humorous that it left the man to be in a good mood in the remainder of the day. Unfortunately for them, they would never know what was so hilarious to the Scotsman. Of course, he was somewhat nosy in the personal lives of the agents to a certain extent. For one, he needed evidence about how MI6 should be getting more funds and it would effectively work when the very people who are protecting the Kingdom within the shadows live in an apartment that was not suited for their needs or was placed in more of a ‘bad’ neighborhood. This also extends to checking up on said agents and see how they’re adapting to the new environment. But of course, him being nosy was needed to convince the future Prime Minister - his half-brother if anyone was wondering - that the Q Division is forever in need of funds for research projects and materials. The Quartermaster himself is not willing to part with his hard earned money, and even if that ends up with a bigger paycheck, it’s not like he’ll be using it anyway. However, let’s not go too far into this matter of the subject for it shall be saved for another time. He was really getting into the business of this one certain, ‘unfortunate’ agent due to the fact of one thing. This agent was none other than Donald Finn O’Neill-Kirkland, or otherwise known as Don or Donny and is the male Irish member of this very British family. As much as how Iain was a ‘decent’ older-half brother, knowing who the other was charming was all too amusing to him. Oh, if only he knew, if only he knew. For as you see, Iain also have special access to the very personal lives of an agent’s background, and he definitely knows who is related to the very woman the Irishman was charming. Which led him to here. He left his work in order to return to the home of the soon to be surprised agent. He wanted to break the news to his half-brother in regards to the fine quine he was dating and he wanted to see the other’s reaction to it. He knew how ‘friendly’ both Donald and the other agent treated each other, after all the latter had to go through the annoying nicknames and the constant munching that happens every thirty minutes. Of course, having Vash over for any family reunions... Or the fact that thinking that Vash would also be Iain’s brother-in-law... Well, this is going to be served as a warning for Donald, not to mention, this is the man’s problem anyway - not Iain’s. Only because he’s sure he’s not dating the younger sister of a happy-trigger agent who he sees everyday at work and could have easily claimed that it was ‘friendly fire’. Ah, where did Donald say his address was? It was here, no? He was in the area a while ago with Peter on a day off - surprising himself that he didn’t really know where Donald actually lives. From what he knew, the cheil would just dump himself in either the Quartermaster’s home or Cerys’s. But of course, over all it had a very nice view and it was quite surprising that the guy was able to afford it... Then again it shouldn’t. They have access to Arthur’s credit card, Iain swears that piece of plastic is unlimited just as long as Arthur says ignorant. Knock, knock, knock. Now it was simply a matter of waiting for someone to open the door on the other side.

made by CAPTAIN of BACK TO NEVERLAND

[Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland]

Ahh, the skies were cloudy again. White, white, white—a little gray path there—right was that a sliver of sunlight? Nope, the whole damn sky was just gray. Sheesh. There was nothing to really romanticize because this weather had been very constant—since the beginning of time, probably. Associating gloomy days with London was typically common knowledge around this area. Therefore, he couldn’t really probe the right hemisphere of his brain to poeticize the day. Regardless of the weather, the vista would still be a pretty sight from his living room. His condo had sturdy glass panels on the outer walls to give the décor an illuminant touch. Well, what was there to expect from a multi-million condo? Sure, the house tax sometimes took a pinch—but there were perks to being a Kirkland, and one was that there was an infinite supply of money. Somewhere. Yet Donald chose not to befuddle himself with these little fiscal details. All he knew was that he had a home that he rarely used. Rather, he let some poor college students rent out his condo for a good bargain, for the deal only called for four things. One, the house must always be clean no matter what—or else Donald will “fuck [their] shite up, haha”. Two, they must keep away any social workers and/or women that request for Donald. Three, if Donald says out, then it really means “out”—no legal shenanigans allowed. Lastly, they must always invite Donald to any crazy parties hosted at this place because it is “purely common courtesy, lads”! So far, it looked like the couple of kids were keeping their end. By far, Donald was not daft—he chose a couple of worthy and reliable boys and a girl (she was lesbian or something—he had no clue) to take care of his den. It had been a couple of months since their first night in. They appreciated him, at most, even going far as to buying him gifts. So far so good. It was only slightly awkward during the multiple times he had seen people fornicate on his bed and his bathroom. Eh well—he was twenty eight. His lawless days were a reminder that nothing can really get worse. Whistling cheerfully, Donald sauntered over to the condominium complex with a paper bag full of groceries. The most obvious object that was peeking out from the crinkled rim of the bag was the endearing eyes of L.C. Leprechaun, a character from the American-brand ‘Lucky Charms’. Well, perhaps it was the most stereotypical thing for him to eat, but that still didn’t change that he loved eating it. Those fucking marshmellows were good. Then he stopped in his place when he saw Iain in front of his door. The ginger blinked and grinned. “Oii. How’sit goin’ there Iain?” He chimed with a silvery tone. “”tis rare te see ye standin’ at me doorstep—without a call. If I’d known I woulda been in there earlier.” With ease, he walked over to the door and pressed the little button on the intercom box near the door. “Oi lads ‘im here. Put yer pants on n’ get outta there, yea?” “Snappers these days ye’knowwhotimean?” The ginger glanced Iain and simpered as he took out his card and swiped it across the security scan. Following that act, he put in a five-digit code to elicit a ‘beep’ from the knob. Donald opened it and then stood by the door to let the Scotsman in. “Well, welcome te me humble abode, Scottie.”

Notes: Snappers = Kids ♣ made by FLOU of OTE.

[Deleted]

all blades in the shadows are close to you

He knocked and he waited... And waited some more... and even more waiting. It seemed like Donald was out of his home really. ... Well, that's not like he can help it. Perhaps later Iain would find time in his very busy schedule to give the warning that he's going to date the younger sister of the overprotective Grim Reaper - not that Iain really thought that Vash was a bringer of death. The man was simply a very... happy-trigger man. Yeah, that sounds legit. He was about to leave until that oh so familiar voice called him out. That voice that often brought about mixed feelings - most of those mixed feelings was dread. Whenever Donald was around, there is always some sort of dread. He really does need to carry around duct tape again. If the magical binding can fix just about anything in his engineering days, why not now? In fact, he would need to bring along an air horn too. if it's moving and it's not supposed to be, duct tape. If it's not moving and it's supposed to be, air horn. These are the two things engineers truly need. "'tis rare te see ye standin' at me doorstep--without a call. If I'd known I woulda been in there earlier." "Weel, lets jist say 'at thes was an unexpected an' huir uv a urgent reason tae see ye." Or so he claimed with a wide grin on his face. Trust him, this tidbit of news is very, very urgent if Iain wanted to know if there will any unfortunate Vash genes dominating the next batch of generations. The family has one grumpy man and one's enough - for the sake of the other members. Not that he's worried that Vash was going to take over his 'role' in the family... Well shit, he's already jumping to stupid conclusions. Then again, he did sort of raise the wee lad, this was perhaps what fathers felt like when they see their children off dating other people... is this how Cerys feel at the moment? Desperate to get everyone excluding herself into a relationship with someone else? Goddamn, he really needs to stop making himself feel old. Iain! only 32 and thinking as if he's a dad! By the spirits of Gaelic belief, this feeling better go away soon. He looked at Donald who pressed that button at the door. And he said about people pulling their pants up. Interesting - so he knows that people are in his condo and he knows that they're having sex. ... Actually not interesting. It's just plain weird. For all Iain knew - and good thing that he knew Donald - the lad could be running a secret brothel or something. But of course, Iain knows Donald and that would never happen. His days of being lawless are over. Then he continued to look at the whole little process ot card scanning and digit punching. Quite complicated for a condo - never as complicated as the ones in the labs though. Something worth keeping note of: Iain might intrude himself into Donald's condo - it is quite nice. "Well, welcome te me humble abode, Scottie." "Certainly feelin' 'at welcome, Donald." No, not really.

made by CAPTAIN of BACK TO NEVERLAND

[Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland]

"Certainly feelin' 'at welcome, Donald."

"Well, ye better, mate." The ginger replied with a cheeky grin. After offering the right of way to the older sibling, Donald followed the suit and entered the den. He glanced around as a quick way to inspect the area--not like he'd do a flesh-deep investigation anyway. So far, so good. The place appeared to be in good shape and it didn't smell like alcohol or anything. "Must be finals week er somethin'. The kids must be studying."

As if on cue, two teens walked out of the hallway with a box of stuff. The brown haired lad gave the two a grin while the blond one gave the two a stiff nod.

"This here is Ethan and Jeff." He gestured at the boys accordingly as the both stepped up to give Iain a sturdy handshake. "Now off with ye boys. Study hard. Tell Monica I said hi, by the way."

After giving Donald a pat on the shoulder as farewell, the two boys exchanged a mischievous glance and exited with smiles as they chatted amongst themselves. "Monica's the gay one, I believe. She's probably got a new hen lately." The man explained as he took quick strides over to the kitchen.

Though the weather was dreary and grey, the snowy white reflection from the clouds coated the room in luminescence. Naturally lit from the exposed arched-top window, the kitchen had a homey appeal to it from the glistening black marble counter tops. Happy to be back, Donald splendidly felt very comfortable and at ease. While assuming that Iain was following right behind, Donald continued on to chatter, "If yer wonderin', I kinda put this place up fer rent. Sorta--yeah kind of. And when I feel like comin' back, they just nicely leave. Not like I kick 'em out 'er anything. They've got it all figured out somehow. A nice bunch. Really like 'em."

Thereafter, he began to set his things down on the nearest counter. Following his own chain of interest, he took out the Lucky Charms box and left everything else in the grocery bags. "Hungry perhaps? I've got... cereal and some fruit. Maybe some jerky in the cubby."

Restless as always, he reached for a bowl and took out a carton of milk.

[Deleted]

all blades in the shadows are close to you

"Well, ye better, mate." Having followed Donald, the older ginger was able to inspect the place with his own eyes. Pretty nice - and neat. Not like the cruddy apartments that MI6 provided for the agents. If anything, Iain was pretty sure that Donald didn't pay for the rent all by himself - there was the running gag of the older brothers using the youngest's credit card. Tsk tsk - that blonde can never stop them. Though, to interrupt on Iain's private musings about the state of Arthur's credit card and Donald's home, two young men had emerged with a box - most likely their paraphernalia - what kind? Iain couldn't see through a box... nor did he wanted to know anyway. "This here is Ethan and Jeff." As an act of simple politeness, Iain did shake their hands. It was the professional kind of handshake, not like the fancy-shamcy handshakes with too may finger bending and hand hugging that kids use these days. In fact, they were still in the rage since the whole trend happened about a decade ago. Donald had proceeded to talk - which Iain didn't really listen too. That was sort of a common norm - to just block out some of Donald's ramblings. He looked around the place once more - indeed it was quite nice. It's in a nice neighborhood, nice park, it's near a zoo - pretty much perfect for all the wee bairns to run amok in. Not that he had any kids of his own, but hey maybe Peter would like it here on a weekend or something. "Actually, got something tae gab aboot wi' ye." He spoke in a casual way that hid his true intent. Pulling up a chair he sat at the dining table. "Ah've been noticin' th' lack ay breaks noo-a-days. Keepin' up wi' ye social life Ah hope?" He asked, just casually inspecting the table in such a casual looking way. "Meetin' folk an' all?" Yeah... totally not suspicious at all.

made by CAPTAIN of BACK TO NEVERLAND

[Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland]

"Actually, got something tae gab aboot wi' ye."

Well, looks like he wasn't hungry at all. On the bright side, there was more food to eat. With Donald's paycheck, he could only squeeze a standard amount of groceries, despite the grandness of his abode and the tax that bundled with it. With ease, he strode over to the refrigerator to pull out a carton of milk. Thereafter, he opened one of the drawers and pulled out a bowl to proceed. The sound of cereal spilling into the bowl sounded like little silver bells before he turned the box upright.

"Aye?" Donald responded, genuinely interested about Iain's sudden break from silence.

The older man was the kind of guy to talk when he had to, and when he had to, his accent was usually so thick, people hardly understood him. Even Donald sometimes had trouble understanding the slur of Iain's mushed up words. To describe it simply, Iain's accent was like taking Donald's brogue and dropping it in a blender.

"Ah've been noticin' th' lack ay breaks noo-a-days. Keepin' up wi' ye social life Ah hope?"

Noo-a-days. Yeah, that's a keeper.

A grin formed on Donald's lips as he poured milk in the bowl. "Ah, lookie 'ere at me big brother bein' so watchful of wee laddie Donald. Makin' sure I ain't wit' the wrong crowd eh? Well, fer certain, me social life's been grand as the Queen's jubilee on a Sunday evening. Meaning it is good, yes. Quite."

"Meetin' folk an' all?"

After grabbing a spoon. he sat on the stool near the counter and set his cereal down. "Well I try not te socialize with rocks. Heard those are quite dull, and the sharp ones are all in parliament."

After thinking of Arthur, he shook with mirth and then scooped a spoonfull of Lucky Charms into his mouth. By God, does he love the taste of the sweet marshmallows in his mouth, and to have it washed down with milk made it even better. Donald wished they sold the sort where the marshmallows changed color or shape in the milk. Those were quite ingenious and the company marketed it pretty swell also. It was a shame it was not sold as much anymore, despite Donald's amusement with that sort of cereal. Perhaps the vast others did not enjoy cereal like how he did.

"Yeh so," he began between chews and resumed after he swallowed. "Whot of it? Have ye been socializing? Any besses, foxes, stumps, shrews? Dear heavens, don't say zip about the last sort. Plenty of those already."

[Deleted]

all blades in the shadows are close to you

"Whot of it? Have ye been socializing? Any besses, foxes, stumps, shrews? Dear heavens, don't say zip about the last sort. Plenty of those already." Upon his younger sibling's inquary, Iain only laughed just a tad bit. "Ye ken me - locked up in th' lab fur endless amoont ay days an' when Ah dae leave Ah burst th' pubs." He grinned, almost something akin to a cheshire cat. Hints of mischievous intent were all the more beaming from him, since containing it was impossible in the first place. Oh boy oh boy the man is probably going to choke on his cereal. "In fact, meet thes huir uv a braw lass in th' lab nae jist a coople ay days ago. We talked fur a bit over some coffee - naethin' new Ah suppose." He leaned back, precariously balancing the chair on its hind legs and giving his body a good stretch. "Efter 'at Vash came in fur anither mission - did some wee gab tae rile up th' bloke." Yes he could remember it as almost as clear as day. He remember prompting the information from Vash that he did have a younger sister that was running a flower shop. How did he get that information? It was very difficult to get it out of him, but he got it nonetheless. Take that juicy bit of information with that he had heard over the radio then the ginger got himself a completed puzzle piece - not that it was a difficult puzzle in the first place. "Ye forgot tae turn aff yer radio too-day." Iain said casually, now hunching over to look at his half-brother. Oh yes, this is going to be sweet. "Yer best tae keep yer private life closed - th' whole lab maunt tae hear ye talkin'."

made by CAPTAIN of BACK TO NEVERLAND

[Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland]

Haha right. There it was. The accent. It was a good thing Donald had stayed in Scotland a few times, long enough to understand their tenderized mush of the English language. The brogue was almost enough to make Donald miss that little glint in Iain's eye. He chewed slowly as he studied his older sibling. Yes, that was most definitely a sign of mischief.

Colorblind, he was, but it didn't take away from his attentiveness. To survive in the Kirkland family, he had to grasp every hint and emotional detail to survive the spontaneity of their nature. Good Lord. Well, why else would he come here?

"Vash? Another mission?" Donald whistled. He put a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. After some thoughtful chewing, he continued, "Te still be able te do all that work even after that roll-up with th'goons is good for him."

After his co-op mission with Aoife and Vash, Donald had been feeling a bit guilty towards Vash. Good, stony men fall victim to mistakes too. At least Vash is doing alright. He brushed the thought aside as he resumed to eat while Iain spoke.

"Ye forgot tae turn aff yer radio too-day--"

Donald paused and looked at the other man incredulously, his thick brows furrowed in. Really? Donald made it a good habit to always check. It was one of the main attributes that differentiated him from his stubborn shrew of a sister. The way Iain was acting was awfully suspicious. Hm. Might as well go along with it.

A crunch. He swallowed.

"Really?" he asked. An amused smile smeared on his lips. "Not that I've got anythin' te hide, unless th'lab likes te hear me stories about dolphins and the story 'bout Uncle Hanks down in the valley." Donald fed Iain a nervous laugh, just for the fun of it.

Honestly, what was Iain trying to pull off?

[Deleted]

all blades in the shadows are close to you

"Och aye, an' th' whole lab heard th' conversation ye hud wi' a bonnie lass - who's th' lucky quine?" Iain cut to the chase - there was enough screwing around with the boy, and if he knew Donald, by now the other ginger knew that something was up, something was being cooked in that mind of his. "Also, stories abit dolphins ur quite a' th' gang in th' lab - ye wooldnae believe hoo mony ay them loove dolphins." His eyes shimmered, his grin ever the same - contagious even. He was making himself much too comfortable, resting his feet on the edge of the table, leaning back on the chair. Oh, it was a very comfortable chair - maybe he should consider about getting new furniture - especially in the lab. But that was him getting distracted. "Actually dornt answer - Ah awreddy ken th' answer." He hardly gave Donald the time to even answer. This would only further raise suspicions. After all, why would a florist suddenly have the attention of the Quartermaster one might ask? It was obviously because of Donald, and as the big brother, he would have to be his wingman. (Not that the man had a hard time picking up ladies in the first place, but Donald only needed that one little push). "Dornt be quick tae ask questions. Ah got all ay it from 'er brither." Iain hummed, twirling his index finger. "Och! Dae ye actually ken who's 'er brither? He's a pure short-tempered bloke thocht." And might be a bit too trigger-happy. "He didne really seem sae happy when Ah asked heem abit 'er." Yup, he also remember clearly the little threat that came from Vash - ah Vash, what a funny man you are. "But enaw kickin' aroond th' bush - 'er brither tauld me tae teel ye 'at yoo'll first need tae gab tae heem abit it. He's overprotective ay th' puir lass." He paused, twirling finger stopping, and closed his eyes - as if to prevent him from ruining this made suspense. "Th' bloke's name's Vash Alois Zwingli."

made by CAPTAIN of BACK TO NEVERLAND

[Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland]

Something something something. Iain talking—damn, was this how Iain reacted to Donald whenever he talked a lot? Well then, it would be best to pretend to be engaged. He nodded here and there, and raised an eyebrow once, or so he thought. The cereal was getting better to listen to, the sound of the crunch, the swirl of the milk, and the chime of the spoon clanging on the bowl.

He took a spoonful to his mouth, and it couldn’t have been more of a bad timing.

Vash Alois Zwingli.

Donald heard that damn right. The terminals in his brain began to click it all together, translating Iain’s brogue at the speed of light, to piece together the logic of exactly why it is bad that all of this related to Vash Alois Zwingli.

It was not that he didn’t like the fellow—good heavens, the fellow was a narky snapper but he wasn’t that bad. They have their differences and they respected each other’s space… for the most part. However, for all the coincidences to align like the stars in the goddamn sky for this to happen triggered the only reflex his body could come up with. Milk sprayed from his mouth as if it was the blowhole of a whale.

And that ushered the brief period of choking on Lucky Charms. The colorful marshmallows of endearing shapes, the ones he knew and loved, were trying to kill him as one of the shapes (probably that fucking pot o’ gold marshmallow) tried to take a joyride down his windpipe. Donald was reeling forward, coughing and laughing at the same time. There was some painfully ironic humor here. He seized the moment to laugh as he hawked for normalcy.

It was evident that Iain wasn’t going to Heimlich him—the bloody bastard was probably just watching and laughing. Heck, he couldn’t hear anything else other than his own laughing—someone was laughing at least. Good Jesus on a stick.

“Oh… fucking… hell,” he sputtered between dry coughs, still shaking with some mirth. He rested his peach red face on the surface of the table. “Oooh fucking hell.”

Milk everywhere. Man, he will have to clean this up. Rover was barking from the other room, and the jingle of the collar became clearer. Dogs are better than shittin’ people.

Donald swallowed, the spasm from the choking subsiding. He was still simpering though while he clumsily patted Rover’s golden-haired head. “Lili’s related to that Chipper? Just my luck.”

Oh man, oh man, oh man.

He groggily sat up and wiped his mouth with his fist. "I s'ppose ye came here te tell me that, ya little devil."