Work Text:
“I can see why you wanted me to come with you,” you said, bending down to pick up the key and the ticket that had fallen out of your partner's pocket. “What the fuck would you have done without these?”
“Barry says ‘a negative outlook leads to a negative outcome’. I'm sure it would've worked out fine in the end,” Ladybug replied.
You shook your head. “You and that fucking therapist, man. I swear you’d believe him if he said there was gold shoved up my arse.”
“Yes, I would. You know why? Because Barry wouldn't lie to me about something like that,” Ladybug retaliated.
Rolling your eyes, you mocked him childishly. “Fucking hell,” you said. “That was one time and it was hilarious. Get over it.”
“No. Telling me someone we killed had swallowed the USB that we were after was not hilarious actually. You should be the one in therapy.”
“It was for me,” you muttered.
“Children, stop fighting,” Maria chimed in over the phone. “I’m almost regretting that Carver called out sick.”
You reached the lockers. “Carver?” Ladybug echoed, offended. “I’m filling in for Carver? You picked me second to Carver?”
You tuned out his whining and opened the locker with the key you’d rescued earlier. “Grab your goodies,” you told him. Turning towards the tracks, you watched the train arrive and steadily fill with people.
“I’ll assume you didn’t take the gun?” Maria was saying when you zoned back into what they were talking about.
Ladybug began, “Barry says ‘every conflict is an opportunity’-”
You reached past him to grab the gun and cut him off, “I’ve got the gun. Let’s get on the train before it leaves.”
“Whatever would I do without you, Cherry?”
You grinned even though she couldn’t see it. “Have to suffer through all this Barry talk alone,” you answered, tucking the gun out of sight.
“You know, Barry says it’s time for some change. I think he’s right,” Ladybug said.
You scoffed and Maria said, “Barry does not know what you do for a living.” She went on to remind you both about the details of the train while you wandered down it. You admired how nice it was, even in economy. Why weren’t Western trains like this? “...there’s a train sticker on the handle.”
“Really?” you laughed, rejoining the conversation.
“What’s so funny about a train sticker?” your partner asked.
You dismissed his question with a wave of a hand. “Nothing, it just reminded me of someone,” you answered,
Your handler tried to keep you both on track. “The last update says the owners will be in economy class.”
“Owners, plural?”
“Aren’t you glad I brought the gun now, huh?” You smirked at Ladybug’s displeasure. You then ran into a ticket collector and handed over both tickets before he could admit to having lost his. “Thank you,” you said to the collector with a nod of your head.
Entering the next carriage, you did your customary scan of the passengers and immediately backed out again, whispering, “fucking cock.”
Ladybug joined you. “What? What is it?” he demanded.
You peered past him, hoping you were wrong but no such luck. “My boyfriend’s in there,” you explained. “He’s supposed to be at home in England.”
He gave you a judgemental look and you flipped him off. “You don’t know what country your boyfriend is in?”
“The less I ask about his work, the less he asks about mine. Don’t diss the system. He thinks I’m in Australia,” you replied. “Look, we still need to find the briefcase. You search that way and I’ll search this way. Stay on the group call; get off the train once someone has it.”
“Aren’t you gonna tell me which one he is?” he asked.
You shook your head. “You’ll just draw his attention to you if you know. Find the briefcase. Get off the train,” you reiterated and Ladybug reentered the carriage.
You began searching the luggage rack next to you as he said, “there’s no fucking way we’re gonna find one briefcase among all- wait.”
“What?” Maria and you asked simultaneously.
“Train sticker on the handle?” Ladybug checked. At Maria’s affirmative, he continued, “holy shitbox. I have the case.” You looked through the windows of the carriage doors and he held up the case for you to see. You gave him a thumbs up. He moved away into the next carriage. “Gonna put a little distance between myself and the owners. See you on the platform, Cherry.”
Looking back at your boyfriend talking to his companion (presumably his brother, they hardly went anywhere without each other), you couldn’t help but appreciate how attractive he was. He’d moved to the seats across the aisle and removed his coat. The navy, pinstripe suit was a good look. His hair, too, was nice when slicked back like this but you preferred when he let his curls show. After ravishing you, he'd get out of the shower in nothing but a towel, hair starting to curl as it air dried, and you'd be instantly ready for round two.
He pulled out a zip tie and a set of brass knuckles from his suit jacket while he talked. What the fuck was his job? You both knew you were lying to each other about work. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of you; if the other's story seemed a little too suspicious, just ignore it and they'd do the same for you. You'd never run into each other before and now you were curious. When this was over, you were going to have to have a talk.
His companion got up (you were right about it being his brother) and headed in the direction Ladybug had gone. He searched through the luggage rack that Ladybug had found the briefcase in. Your boyfriend stood up in the middle of the aisle to take a phone call as his brother grew noticeably frustrated, even from so far away.
You ducked out of view of the carriage. “So, um, I have bad news and ‘I don't know how to feel about this yet’ news,“ you interrupted Maria and Ladybug's conversation.
“What is ‘I don't know how to feel about this yet’ news?” Ladybug questioned.
“The case belongs to my boyfriend and I am not processing those emotions right now,” you responded. “The bad news is he knows it's been taken.”
Maria said, “it's a good thing you two are getting off the train then.”
The train pulled into the station and you stepped out the door. You stared down the train, waiting for your partner to join you. “Ladybug, you off?” you asked. The seconds before the doors closed were steadily counting down and there was no sign of him. You pulled out your phone to see why he hadn't said anything and found he'd dropped off the call. “Fuck!” You waited a couple seconds more and hopped back on the train right as the doors were about to shut. “Ladybug is still on the train,” you told Maria.
“And you?” she asked.
“Got back on, didn't I?” you responded. “I'm not leaving that fucking disaster alone. For all we know, he's gone and accidentally killed someone again.” You shook your head, hoping for Ladybug’s sake that he hadn’t. “New plan,” you announced, more for yourself than your handler. “Sneak past my boyfriend and his brother without being recognised, find Ladybug and the briefcase, continue to avoid boyfriend and brother, and get off the train at the next stop. Easy.” You let out a short, deluded laugh. “Why do I feel like we’re on this train for a good few more stops?”
Maria sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re buying into this bad luck bullshit too,” she said.
You began systematically searching through the suitcases in front of you for some sort of disguise. “You have to admit he has some weird luck at times,” you replied. “Given that my boyfriend is here, I think it’s contagious.”
“I put you on this mission to watch over Ladybug, not so that I had two nuisances to keep on track.”
Pulling out just what you needed to hide your appearance, you muttered, “yeah, yeah. I'm working on it.” You packed the suitcases away. You snickered as you mixed up all the items on purpose, imagining the reactions when the owners opened then again.
With your face and hair covered, you entered the carriage. While you walked, you kept an eye on the two men, arguing ahead of you. When you passed by their seats, you discovered a third person you didn't recognise. He was zip tied to the seat and, more interestingly, bleeding out of his eye sockets. Fuck the plan. The plan could wait. You slid into a free seat a couple of rows behind them and across the aisle for the best view.
“Right, so, slight change of plans.” The men marched back into the carriage and towards their companion? Hostage? Whatever. “Oh!” your boyfriend exclaimed in shock, seeing that he was now dead. Well that was fun. There were at least two sets of contract killers on this train, it seemed. Three, if that’s what your boyfriend was but, as far as you were aware, he had yet to kill anyone.
Leaning in to examine the body, you heard them mutter, “first his wife, now his son? That’s a lot of white deaths.” Your boyfriend gave his brother an unimpressed look. Were they working for The White Death? This had to be a one time thing or else he’d never be at home with you. Contract killers it was then, and skilled ones, The White Death wouldn’t hire amateurs. You grinned; what an interesting couple you two made.
While they announced the next stop, you watched the two men clean up the blood and try to make it look like their companion was sleeping with some outrageous, cartoon glasses. You knew you should be getting off with Ladybug but you were far more invested in this situation. You could stay, surely. Ladybug had the briefcase; he no longer needed you.
“We gotta make sure he doesn’t step a foot off this train. You see the case, deal with whoever has it,” your boyfriend instructed his brother.
“All right, how do I do that? Talk to him or, like, talk to him?” Fuck. Maybe Ladybug did still need you.
Growing angrier, he replied, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell him about the story about how Gordon met Percy and how Percy’s now bleeding from his fucking eye sockets!” He turned and stormed off while you giggled over the Thomas the Tank Engine reference. (You knew your boyfriend had been assigned Gordon and were guessing the dead boy was Percy. You personally were Emily: intelligent, openly caring and often the voice of reason between the three of you.) You didn’t think it was going to be a gun that killed your boyfriend. No, his brother was going to make one too many, poorly timed Thomas references and he would have an aneurysm on the spot. Maybe you should drag him to Barry with you after this.
The train arrived at the next station as you were debating whether to trail him or do something about his brother who was guarding the door. You decided Ladybug was capable of getting off a train. You got out of your seat and used the changing crowds of people to hide that you were following someone.
Ladybug rejoined the call shortly after the train departed and you found an empty seat to sit in. “I missed my stop,” he announced.
“Twice? How?” you asked.
“God hates me,” he replied.
“No, she doesn’t,” Maria countered. “Do you still have the case?”
“Yeah, I stashed it.”
She instructed, once again, “get off at the next stop. That goes for you too, Cherry.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you agree, distracted by your boyfriend running a hand through his hair in frustration. He’d undone his top button and loosen his tie; you wondered how much more ruffled he was going to become as this continued. He spun around and headed back towards his brother and, consequently, Ladybug and the briefcase.
“Shit! Fuck! No,” Ladybug hissed.
Before you could, Maria asked, “ shit. Fuck. What?”
He explained, “remember those two wackos from the Bolivia job killed all those people?”
“The Twins?” you recalled.
“Yeah, I’m not so sure they’re twins.”
“Stop it,” Maria told him. “Everyone knows they’re twins.”
Ladybug said, “one of them is walking towards me right. I think I saw the other one on the platform.”
Your mind was going about a thousand miles per minute. “Hang on,” you interjected. “The one on the platform: big guy, white hair, denim jacket? And the one approaching you: three piece suit and a moustache?” Ladybug answered affirmative to both. “You remember that boyfriend I mentioned…? They are twins, by the way: adopted.”
“You’re dating one of The Twins?” Maria sounded truly shocked for once.
“Please don’t say he’s the one on the platform. That’s the fucker who shot me in Joburg,” Ladybug said.
You stared at your boyfriend’s back in betrayal. “That lying bastard!” Ladybug shushed you as he stepped into the same section as your partner and stopped to take a call. You pulled out your personal phone to text him.
Me:
I fucking knew Johannesburg was a shit place for an anniversary trip
Next time don’t lie about taking me on a work trip
Your boyfriend also pulled out a second phone; this one you recognised. He muttered a short sentence into the burner phone and hung up. He checked his watch, presumably to check the time in England, and then replied. Even annoyed at him, you were impressed with how good he was at pretending to be in a completely different timezone.
lover <3:
Good afternoon to you too
The fuck are you talking about?
Me:
We are having a Talk later
Putting your phone away, you heard him faintly cursing over your phone call. He replied to your message but you ignored it. He looked around the train like he could find you despite believing you were in a different continent. Spotting Ladybug in his hiding spot, he startled. They had a brief conversation and your boyfriend stormed off.
“Well he seems like a delightful individual. What remarkable taste you have, Cherry,” Ladybug told you, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
“We are actively sabotaging his mission right now, he's allowed to be pissy,” you defended him. “He is also like that most of the time anyway but if I wanted a softie for a boyfriend, I'd be dating his brother.”
Discarding your disguise, you got up and headed towards Ladybug. He said, “I really think even one session with Barry could do you a lot of good.”
“Do you?” You pulled open the curtain to his hiding spot. Glaring at him, you advised, “think before you insult my choice in boyfriends again.”
“Barry says-”
You cut him off by yanking the curtain shut again. “Where’s the case?”
“First class lounge, in a bin behind the bar,” he answered, slipping past the curtain to join you.
You nodded. “Let’s go. Together. Maria, we’ll call you back in a bit. I need to focus on getting us off the train,” you said and hung up.
Also hanging up, your partner said, “I’m gonna confront the Joburg twin.”
“Did you not hear me or something?” you snapped. “We are getting off the fucking train, ideally with the briefcase but things are only going to get worse the longer we stay so I couldn’t give less of a fuck about it.” One look at his face revealed he wasn’t going to change his mind. You threw your hands up. “Fine! It’s your fucking funeral. I’m getting the case.”
Despite knowing better, you left Ladybug to his own devices. You hurried down the train, only stopping briefly to hide in a toilet as your boyfriend passed by.
When you reached the lounge, you searched behind the bar as your partner had said and came up empty handed. You let out a cry of rage. “This! Is! Absolute! Bullshit!” you yelled at the dead body in the corner chair. You stormed out of the lounge, half running on your way back to Ladybug.
“What now?” you demanded, picking up the phone when Ladybug and Maria called again. You snarled at the passengers who were getting in your way as they left the train. “Unless you’re actively dying, I don’t care. The briefcase is gone.”
“It’s gone?” Maria asked.
Ladybug told you, “I’m hiding in the very front toilet until the next stop where I’m getting off. Fuck the briefcase. Don’t drink The Twins’ water; I put sleeping powder in it.”
You hung up. You passed by your boyfriend’s brother, not bothering to hide. He stopped and stared at you, opening his mouth to say something. You cut him off. “Not right now,” you said and kept moving.
You caught up to your boyfriend as he stopped at Ladybug's toilet. “Hi honey,” you said, the sound of your voice making him freeze, hand raised to knock on the door. “I'm afraid I can't let you do that.” He turned towards you, gaping. He’d ditched his jacket and tie, the top three shirt buttons undone and the sleeves rolled to expose his forearms. You had to stop yourself from being distracted by the sight. “If you’re after the briefcase, I’m afraid we lost it somewhere in first class. If you think my partner killed that Percy of yours, I can assure you it was someone else.”
“Your… partner?” His eyes flashed with jealousy amidst his confusion.
“Oh god, not a romantic partner,” you were quick to assure him. “I’d sooner shoot him again than cheat on you with him. However, he is my priority right now. You see, I’m babysitting him on this snatch and grab. He’s started seeing a therapist and this is his first job back. We were supposed to get off about three stops ago so understandably he’s a little stressed out.”
He held up a hand, indicating for you to stop talking. “Darling, are you a contract killer?” he asked, trying to process everything you were saying.
“You ever heard of the assassin, Cherry?” He nodded and then his eyes widened in surprise when he realised what you were implying. “It’s not like you can talk; I know you and your brother are The Twins. That’s why we went to Johannesburg, isn’t it?”
“We do need to have that talk later,” he said. “Right now, I need you to move out of the way. I have a briefcase to find.”
You didn’t budge. “Sorry, I can’t let you do that either. If anyone’s leaving with that briefcase, it will be us,” you told him, gesturing between yourself and the toilet. You pulled out the gun and aimed it at him. “Please don’t make me shoot you.”
“Love, this ain’t fair,” he complained. “I gave my gun to Lemon because your partner stole his.”
“Oh, he’ll have disassembled and hid it somewhere. He doesn’t like guns; that’s what I’m for. Also, Lemon?” You guessed that was his brother.
“Codename for my brother,” he confirmed. “I’m Tangerine.”
You hummed, considering. “Sophisticated.”
He perked up, clearly pleased. “You think so?”
Grinning, you replied, “no but I bet that’s why you picked it.” His annoyed look proved you right about that. “Alright, Tangerine.” You tucked the gun away. “Gotta play fair.”
“Thank-” he began, not getting any further as you kicked him in the chest, pushing him away from the toilet and towards the mini kitchen. He stumbled a little, ultimately staying upright. Grabbing two of the empty trolleys, he slammed them into you, one after the other. You flung a cupboard door open into his face and followed it with a punch to the stomach.
Attempting to return the punch, Tangerine smashed some of the cupboard doors as you dodged each one. You felt bad for whoever would have to clean up this train after its final stop. You picked up a box off the shelf and tried to hit him with it. However, he caught it and the two of you wrestled with it for a moment before he won and threw it over his shoulder. You traded blows, neither of you wanting to hurt the other too much but both too professional to pull your punches.
Your positions having switched around while you fought, Tangerine tried to escape towards the briefcase. You grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Hooking one of your legs around him, you spun him around and slammed him against the counter, trapping him there. His hair was coming loose and already starting to curl; his piercing blue eyes watched you intensely.
“You are unbelievably attractive right now,” you said, pressing the entire length of your body against him. You could feel him beginning to get hard.
“Am I not always?” he teased.
Your eyes did a deliberate sweep of his body, taking it all in, right in front of him. You replied, “not like this. The suits are hot but the fighting and the disheveledness and the fucking curls are something else.”
“Love, does it turn you on that I'm a contract killer?” He smirked, knowing the answer.
Sliding your leg in between his to press against his cock, you said, “I could ask you the same thing.”
You watched his pupils dilate as you lent in to kiss him. Before you could, his eyes flicked over to the door. You turned to see the snack lady enter the room. With the hand behind your back, you palmed at Tangerine's cock while greeting her with a polite smile and some basic Japanese. His breathing was heavy against your neck. It made you shiver in delight.
After collecting what she needed, the snack lady looked at you two and asked if you wanted anything in Japanese. “No, thank you,” Tangerine replied, voice strained.
“Could I get a bottle of water?” you asked. “I’m so thirsty.” You looked back at your boyfriend, with wide, innocent eyes. He was gripping the counter hard enough to turn his knuckles white. You turned to the lady and she held out a bottle towards you. Releasing Tangerine and stepping away, you took it. “That’s perfect. Thank you very much. Baby?” you addressed him with a smile you knew he was weak to. “Would you mind paying the nice lady for me? I left my purse in my bag.”
He stared at you with an unimpressed look but pulled out an envelope of money. “How much for the bottle of water?” he asked, not looking away from you even as she answered. He glanced down briefly to count the money but his gaze soon returned to you. “Oh, there. No, you're welcome. Yeah. A thousand yen. That's ten quid for that bottle of water, love,” he complained. You took a long drink of the water to satisfy him; you had been tempted to discard it, unopened, just to see his reaction. Having been paid, the lady took her trolley and left the room, unaware of the tension between you two. “Your purse is in your fucking pocket, ain't it,” he stated more than asked.
“It is,” you confessed. “But you complain when I don't let you buy me things.”
The sound he made next was as close to a growl as you'd ever heard him make. He grabbed the bottle out of your hand and threw it, hard, out of the room. His other hand slipped around your waist and pulled you towards him. He kissed you with the fierceness that came out when you'd spent all day teasing him. You relished every second of it. Returning the kiss, your hand buried itself into his hair, messing it up further. The other worked open his waistcoat. Separating from his lips, you told him, “I want you to fuck me right here on this bullet train.”
He groaned at the idea. “Where in the bloody fuck has this side of you come from?” he asked.
“Always had it,” you answered, undoing the buttons of his shirt, one by one. “I was an assassin before I was your partner.”
“Yeah, fucking Cherry. Jesus christ.” He went straight to opening your trousers. “How the fuck did it take us this long to find out? Shit!” he exclaimed, his fingers finding your cunt. “You’re really wet.”
You moaned while he rubbed your clit, hands splayed across his chest. “What can I say? I just found out my sexy boyfriend is far sexier than I gave him credit fo-ooor,” you responded, voice rising in pitch when he pushed a finger inside of you.
“You’re so easy for me, darling.” He added a second, meeting little resistance. “Desperate to get fucked in front of everyone. You want them all to know you're mine.” You kissed him to shut him up.
Your mouth trailed across his jaw and down his neck. You bit and sucked marks on him as he continued to finger you. When he simultaneously added a third finger and pressed his thumb against your clit, you broke off from the mark you'd been sucking on the junction of his neck. “Fuck me,” you gasped against his skin.
“That's the plan,” he replied.
It wasn't long before he decided you were ready enough and pulled his hand out of your trousers to yank them down to your ankles. Having been apart for over a week (business trips were a more believable excuse when you weren’t gone for the length of one overnight bullet train ride), you had been close to coming from his hand alone. He lifted you up onto the counter. “Baby, this is where they make the food,” you said, watching him fumble with his belt buckle.
Glancing up at you, he replied, “do I look like I give a shit?”
He looked gorgeous and slightly bloodied, not like he cared about food hygiene but you pretended to consider it anyway. “Maybe,” you answered. “You have very intense eyes; you might care very mmmmf-” your words were muffled by his mouth. You pulled away briefly to mutter, “yeah, I’ll shut up.” Kissing him was like breathing; you didn’t think you could live without it.
Tangerine lined himself up and pushed inside you with a low moan. “God, love, you feel so good. Your tight little pussy is made for my cock and only my cock. You’re all mine,” he said, beginning to thrust into you. Some people found possessiveness unappealing but you loved it. You were his and you wanted people to know it. Besides, it went both ways.
“And you’re mine, baby,” you responded. You pushed his shirt down to his elbows for better access to his shoulders. “No one else gets this.” Your mouth latched on to the newly revealed skin there, leaving a trail of bruises in its wake. Between that and how hard he was gripping your waist to keep you in place, any injuries you two had gotten from fighting would soon be overshadowed by the marks you were getting from fucking.
While he continued to ram into you, you could feel your orgasm growing ever closer. You dropped your head onto his shoulder, unable to concentrate on much more than moaning. Your hands tucked themselves down the back of his shirt, enjoying the broad expanse of his back.
And then his phone started ringing. You pulled back but Tangerine didn’t stop. “Tan- fuck. Honey, your phone,” you told him.
“I don’t care,” he grunted.
“What if it’s important?” you asked.
He thrust into you a couple more times before exclaiming, “okay, maybe it’s important. Fucking hell. Come here.” He paused just long enough to pull his phone out of his pocket, put it on speaker and chuck it on the counter next to you. “Yeah, what do you want?” he demanded. Leaning back against the cupboards, you kept one hand on his shoulder for stability while the other muffled your noises.
“The White Death says to get off at next stop holding the briefcase or he will kill everyone on that train,” a Russian voice instructed over the phone.
Tangerine replied, “okay, I can make it, but uhh Lemon, he’s a little tied up right now.”
“Both of you this time,” the voice insisted. “With the case. Or everyone dies.” They hung up.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Fucking paranoid, this lot,” he muttered. His pace increased with his annoyance.
You interlocked your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Tangerine, I’m so close,” you told him.
“Yeah, me too, love,” he responded, releasing your hip with one hand to stroke your clit. “God, you really like this fucking in public thing. I could feel your pussy clenching around me on that call. Such a naughty little slut.”
Your hand found his hair again, pulling him in for a kiss. You soon came in quick succession, foreheads pressed together and panting into each other's mouths.
After a minute like that, he pulled out and you hopped off the counter. With two fingers, Tangerine scooped a dribble of your combined cum off your inner thigh and into his mouth. Fixing your trousers, you smiled up at him and said, “you're insatiable.”
He took his cleaned fingers out with a pop and kissed you, using his tongue to spread the cum around your mouth. “Ain’t my fault we taste so good together, darling,” he replied.
Picking up his phone from the counter, his expression morphed into a defeated frown. “No case, no Lemon, no way to reach him in time - your partner’s got his phone - and one gun between us. Well…” he sighed, “game’s up, love. For what it’s worth, at least we’re dying together. I’d hate to make you go to my funeral.”
“Sentimental bastard.” You shook your head and gave him a short kiss for the odd romance in his statement. “Do they actually know what Lemon looks like?” Tangerine shook his head and you continued, “good. I have an idea.” You buttoned up his shirt, leaving the top few open and the collar spread to show off the hickeys that were already forming. Marching over to the toilet with him following, you knocked on the door. “Open up, it’s me,” you ordered Ladybug.
He slammed the door open and shoved his finger in your face. “I have booked you a session with Barry and I really think you should bring him,” he pointed at Tangerine, “with you.”
“Who the fuck is Barry?” Tangerine snapped.
“His therapist,” you explained. “Ladybug, you’re gonna pretend to be Lemon and go out onto the platform with Tangerine at the next stop. He’ll do all the talking, you stand there with a briefcase and get back on before the train leaves. It’s so simple; no talking, no fighting, no fancy displays, and for the love of everything good in my life, no attempting an English accent again. You’re fucking awful at it.” Both men looked at you, prepared to whine but you stopped them both. “Do either of you have another idea that’s not giving up and dying. I’m not even asking for a better idea, just a different one to mine,” you challenged them. Satisfied that neither of them were going to respond, you said, “as I thought. I saw a silver briefcase in one of the luggage racks, go grab it.”
Ladybug squeezed past to follow your instructions. Tangerine stared at you, his expression full of affection he rarely let show. “You’re fucking sexy when you take charge,” he said.
You smiled, glad that the revelation of your jobs hadn’t changed your relationship. “Save the compliments for if this works,” you replied.
As Ladybug rejoined you with the decoy briefcase, the train pulled into the station. You pressed the gun into Tangerine's hand. “Good luck, baby,” you whispered to him. You turned to your partner. “Don't fuck this up.”
You followed the men through the windows as they left the train. It seemed to be going well. And then Ladybug tried to do a dramatic flourish with the briefcase and the contents spilled all over the platform. The decidedly not right contents.
Everyone stared at it for a moment before Ladybug and Tangerine exchanged glances and sprinted onto the train just as the door closed. Ladybug was already apologising when you reached them. “What was that?” you asked. “How the fuck am I meant to make sure we both get out of this mission alive if you keep doing stupid things like that!”
“I was trying to sell it!” he insisted.
“Well, I don't think they were in the market for fucking dildos and pantyhose, were they?” Tangerine replied, beyond irritated.
“We're screwed,” you muttered to yourself. “We are royally screwed.” You wondered if you ever would've predicted this would be the way you died. Watching your boyfriend and your partner squabble, you decided no one could’ve predicted it, not without genuine psychic powers.
The train was quickly approaching the next station; Kyoto was too close for your liking. You could get off. Tangerine would never leave without his brother, and you weren't leaving without him. Plus, the stubborn idiot probably still wanted to get the case. Knowing Ladybug's luck, he wasn't making it off either. You sighed. So much for getting off the train. Usually, you'd have ideas or a plan you thought would work but The White Death? There were no plans for surviving him.
Well, maybe you had one idea.
“Ladybug,” you interrupted them. “Go to the lounge. See if the case has reappeared.” Your tone left him no opportunity to argue so he obeyed.
A last-ditch, throwaway idea to save the man you loved - and maybe his brother too, if you were lucky. Ha, lucky. Nothing about this mission could be considered lucky.
The train stopped, the doors opened and you started counting down in your head. You approached Tangerine, his back to the exit, and pulled him in for a kiss. This one was all tongue and passion. You had so much to say to him, too much for 60 seconds, so you tried to fit it all in the kiss.
With about 10 seconds left, you pulled away. “You know I love you, right?” you told him.
“Yeah. I love you too,” he replied, confused and disorientated by what you were doing, exactly how you wanted. “Darling, what-” You shoved him off the train and the door slid shut as he landed on the ground.
He stared up at you in betrayal. You mouthed, “I’m sorry.” The train pulled out of the station and away from your boyfriend. Pushing down any emotions, you made your way to the lounge.
“Where's-” Ladybug started but stopped himself upon seeing your face. He held up the briefcase. “Look what I found,” he said with a nervous smile. “It was where I left it.”
“Where?” He let you behind the bar and pointed to the spot that was decidedly empty when you'd checked earlier. “It's been tampered with; don't open it,” you announced. “I am going to find Lemon. Get off at the next stop, with or without me.” You left the room again without waiting for a response.
You made it over halfway down the train without encountering anyone but the snack lady which concerned you. This train should be full. There was no way no one was going to Kyoto on this train. You wished you had taken your gun back from Tangerine before pushing him off the train.
Finding Lemon, unconscious and covered in blood, on the floor of a bathroom locked from the outside with a wire, you hurried to crouch down and check his pulse, terrified you were too late. However, it was strong like he had decided to take a nap in the middle of the train. A short, relieved laugh escaped your mouth as you realised he must've drank the water with the sleeping powder. And then it hit you that you weren't going to be able to get him off the train like this by yourself. You sunk to the floor, splaying your legs in front of you.
“Do I want to know?” you answered your phone when it rang.
It sounded like Ladybug was breathing into a bag which was not a good sign. “Talk to us, Ladybug,” Maria prompted.
“It’s my bad luck,” he replied. “It’s my bad luck on acid. I gotta get off this train.”
“I’m on my way,” you told him, pushing yourself to your feet. You stayed on the line while Maria talked him through a potential panic attack but didn’t say anything. She was always better at this bit of dealing with Ladybug. You hurried through the carriages of the train.
By the time you met up with Ladybug (and the briefcase), Maria had convinced him to get up and get moving. “Okay, where are we going now?” you asked when he pushed past you. “There's nothing back that way. Almost literally nothing; it's ominous as hell.”
“Away from the dead bodies,” he responded, barely stopping.
Taking a deep breath, you took a second to process his words. “Bodies? Like, more than one dead body?” you asked the now empty carriage. You shook your head and trailed after Ladybug.
You caught up with him just in time to aim the gun away from your boyfriend's neck as it went off. You shut your eyes against the pain of the bullet tearing through your leg. Biting back swears, you tried to stay calm. “...Love,” Tangerine began hesitantly.
Your eyes snapped open. Both men were staring at you in concern; the gun lying forgotten on the floor. The random girl who was also in the carriage was backing off, acting horrified but you didn't believe it for a second. “What in the ever loving fuck were you doing, wrestling over a loaded fucking gun?!” you yelled at Tangerine. “Not to mention getting back on this cursed hellhole of a train! I don't even want to know how you did because it sure wasn't through the fucking doors!!”
“Cherry, your-”
“I will get to you in a second!” you cut Ladybug off. “Tangerine, were you trying to die?”
“Lemon is,” Tangerine started and just as quickly stopped talking, fighting back tears.
Noticing he was no longer wearing his necklace, you put two and two together. You sighed. “Do you know what a pulse is?” You didn’t wait for him to answer that question. “It’s the thing that, if you’d checked for it before running off on your stupid, impulsive revenge mission, you would’ve realised Lemon is absolutely fucking fine!! There was sleeping powder in his water. Go check if you don’t believe me.” He stared at you with wide eyes while you rounded on Ladybug. “And you! You nearly shot my boyfriend! You would’ve shot my boyfriend if I had been any later.”
Ladybug put his hands up in surrender. “He was going to shoot that girl,” he said.
“I don’t give a shit about some random girl,” you responded. “That’s my boyfriend and I love him. You may be my partner but you don’t want to know what I would’ve done to you had you actually hurt, or worse, killed him.”
“I wasn't trying to kill him,” Ladybug defended himself.
“No? That gun was aimed at his neck. Intentional or not, it is very likely you would've,” you responded cruelly, perhaps more so than he deserved. “I'd say you'd be lucky if I let you bleed out that fast except you and I both know you are not lucky.”
You were prepared to keep ranting at the two most infuriating men in your life when Tangerine completely threw you off guard and said, “marry me, Cherry.”
“You. You, um. Wha- what?” you stuttered. You turned to face him.
He repeated, “marry me.” He ran a hand through his hair, clearly overwhelmed by his feelings from seeing this side of you. “I want you in my life forever but I thought you'd hate me the moment you found out about my job. Jesus fucking christ, you are- this is so much better than I ever imagined. If we only have until fucking Kyoto, then I'm not waiting another second. I’ll even do the one knee thing but the only ring I can offer you right now is one of mine and, no offence darling, it ain’t gonna fit your finger.”
“Oh my god,” you exclaimed. You closed the gap between you two and looped your arms around his shoulders. “Of course you would propose at the worst possible time.” You kissed him.
“Is that a yes?” he muttered against your lips.
“Yes,” you replied. “You’re a moron if you thought I’d ever say no.”
Kissing you one more time, he pulled away. “Good,” he said. “Now can I please do something about your leg?”
Nodding, you answered, “yeah, it hurts like a bitch.” Tangerine helped you into the closest seat, legs stretched into the aisle. “Fuck. I wish getting shot was something you could get used to.”
“Love,” he said, kneeling at your feet and rolling up your trouser leg to access the wound. “If I have any say in it, you won’t be getting shot ever again. We’re in this shit together now and no one gets to hurt what’s mine.” He glanced around for something to stop the bleeding but, coming up empty, ended up tearing his shirt to tie around your leg. You winced when he pulled it tight. “Sorry,” he muttered.
You pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t tell me you’re growing soft,” you whispered, smiling softly at your fiancé. “Tell me to suck it up or something.”
“Suck it up,” he echoed. “Whiny bitch.”
“Dickhead,” you responded and kissed the grin off of his face.
With your leg dealt with as best he could for the moment, Tangerine sat in the seat across the aisle from you. He lent forward to stay within touching distance of you, resting his elbows on his legs. “Why'd you push me off the train?” he asked, serious. “I don't wanna go to your funeral any more than I want to make you go to mine.”
You nudged his foot with yours to make him look up at you. “And I wouldn't make you, baby. I was going to get off at the next stop with Lemon,” you told him.
“I think we missed that opportunity.” You both looked out the window. The sky was starting to turn pink as the sun rose through the fog; the information screens were now displaying ‘the next stop is Kyoto’ in Japanese. “Got any other bright ideas or are we back to dying together?”
Rolling your eyes, you replied, “I'm not dying until you get me a proper ring. You're so dramatic.” And you were so very fond of him.
He leaned further across the aisle and recaptured your lips with his. Your hand made its way back into his hair to keep him close while you made out. Tangerine grasped your thighs. Careful of the bullet wound, he pulled you to the edge of your seat so he could have more access to your body.
“Really, mate?” You heard Lemon's voice. “In the middle of the fucking Momomon carriage? Have some respect.”
You reluctantly broke apart. “Hi, Lemon,” you greeted him with a smile. “How's my favourite twin been?” Tangerine's fingers pressed harshly into your thighs at your teasing.
Lemon responded, “feeling rather left out. He actually proposed?”
You felt your grin turn besotted. “Yeah.” And then you decided to tease him some more. “Well,” you drew out the word and heard Tangerine swear under his breath, knowing what you were about to do. “He doesn't have a ring for me, didn't get on one knee and sort of demanded I marry him instead of asking, but if it's the only proposal I'm gonna get, I guess I'll take it.” You pouted at Lemon.
He shook his head, acting disappointed in his brother. “Bruv, that is not on. You gotta treat them right,” he said.
“‘Treat them right', you absolute fucking wankers,” Tangerine muttered through gritted teeth. He dropped off his seat and onto one knee in the aisle. Wrestling one of his rings off his finger, he held it up towards you. “Cherry, darling, supposed love of my life, will you marry me?” he asked, glaring at both you and his brother.
You kissed the top of his head. “It's still a yes,” you told him.
He slipped the ill fitting ring onto your fourth finger. “Happy now?”
“Perfectly,” you responded. “Can you look after this for me? I don't want to lose it.” You handed him back the ring, delighted at the murderous look he was giving you. “Thank you, honey.”
You went to kiss him again but Lemon stopped you. “Do not start making out again! We have a Diesel to catch,” he said.
“Who?” you asked.
“Remember that girl I was tryna shoot before your bellend of a partner stopped me?” Tangerine responded and you nodded. “Her.”
“Dammit Ladybug!” you exclaimed despite him not being there. “She was probably the one who tampered with the case.”
You got to your feet and Tangerine quickly copied you. “Woah, what are you doing?” he asked.
“I can walk,” you replied.
He countered, “doesn’t mean you should.”
“Lemon?” you two said at the same time, turning to look at him.
The taller man took a couple of steps backwards. “Woah, hey,” he said. “You know how I feel about getting involved in your squabbles. When you've been apart, I usually get peace at least until after you guys fuck. What happened?” You gave him a sheepish grin while Tangerine adjusted his collar, staring at the floor instead of his brother. Spotting the hickeys, Lemon realised that was his answer. “Oh fucking hell. On the train? Forget that other Diesel, you guys are the worst.”
You responded, “you love us really.”
“Not right now I don't.” He shook his head and left the carriage.
Before you could object, Tangerine swept you up off your feet and over his shoulder. “Love, you will not be walking on a leg with a bullet wound,” he said.
You crossed your arms. “Prick,” you muttered without meaning it. With his free hand, he pinched your ass cheek and you yelped in surprise. You slid your gun out of his waistband. “I'll be taking this back, thank you.”
“Tryna make this an unfair fight again?” he joked.
“More like not leaving myself injured and defenceless against The White Death,” you replied.
Depositing you on a seat in the next carriage, he said, “you ain't defenceless, you've got me.”
“And what if this mission goes even more tits up than it already has?” you asked, meeting his eyes.
His blue eyes were all you could focus on as he responded, “I am not leaving here without you, love. Not even with Lemon.”
His necklace flew through the air and hit him on the head before dropping to the ground. “Oi, rude!” Lemon said, having been the one that threw it. “I don't wanna leave here with you either.”
“Good. Maybe now I can stop hearing about fucking Thomas,” Tangerine snapped. He stooped to pick up his necklace.
“Baby, you're being such a Gordon right now,” you told him.
Brandishing the necklace at you, he said, “I am not above strangling you with this.”
“Kinky,” you replied, incredibly pleased with the way he froze, picturing what you were implying, switched his gaze to the floor and put the necklace back on himself. “Cute,” you said to yourself. It took a lot to fluster your fiancé but it was worth it when you did.
“Fellas,” Ladybug addressed you, The Twins and the two random men who were also in the carriage. “We need to come up with a plan.”
You snapped your head round to glare at him. “No,” you said. “You do not get to be in charge.”
He took one look at your face and decided not to argue. “Yeah, that’s fair,” he mumbled.
“The White Death waits for you with his army of assassins. Killers from all countries,” the elder of the two random men spoke, rising from his seat. “But he has no idea my son and I are on this train. If fate wills, I will get my revenge.”
“Right, cool. Quick question though.” You turned to him. “Who the fuck are you and why are you on this helltrain?” He went to respond but you continued, “actually, scratch that. I do not care. What’s the plan? And before anyone,” you looked at Ladybug and then Tangerine threateningly, “suggests it, I’m not going to just hide away until everything’s over.”
Tangerine suggested, “me and you can head to the driver’s car, and get us the fuck out of here.” You didn’t like it, knowing it was basically hiding, but it was likely the best you’d get so you nodded in acceptance. The others announced what they were doing: the younger of the strangers going to the back to take out any that got on there; Lemon doing the same towards the middle; and Ladybug (or Joburg, as Lemon was now calling him) buying some time with the briefcase. Even mad at him, you were concerned at whatever he had planned. This was not a man things went right for, but you decided not to comment. Odds are you were all going to die on this train; it was better you focused on yourself for once.
Scooping you up again, Tangerine headed for the driver's car. He put you down on one of the seats while the train automatically pulled into Kyoto station. “Alright. What do we do now?” he asked.
“Oh yeah, because I’ve driven a Japanese bullet train before,” you scoffed. “Watching a few episodes of Thomas with Lemon doesn’t count. Look for an instruction manual.” You carefully stood to try to make any sense of the control panel with your limited Japanese. “Backwards, backwards, backwards,” you muttered to yourself, not wanting to drive the train through the barrier right in front of you if you could avoid it. Heading back to Tokyo seemed to be a better plan. “The fuck is backwards in Japanese?”
“Darling, I’ve got it,” he announced, holding up a thick folder and coming to stand beside you. He dropped it onto the panel with a thud and began flicking through, looking for the English instructions.
There was a faint explosion from behind you. “Never fucking mind,” you said and pushed the lever that, as you predicted, made the train start forwards. “Hey, baby. I hope you’re finding the brakes section. I don’t know how much track we have available.”
“On it,” he replied.
You heard the door slide open and spun around, gun ready in your hand. Shoving Tangerine to the side, you fired off a few shots at the assassins that had just walked through the door and ducked aside as one of them fired his own gun.
Once he’d run out of bullets, you jumped up again and finished the men off with three well aimed shots. Turning back to the control panel, you sighed. “They just had to hit the windshield, didn’t they?” you complained. You went to keep searching through the instructions before noticing the emergency brakes. “Hang on to something, honey,” you warned Tangerine. Then you smashed your first through the glass and pulled the brake, making the train jerk. “Problem solved,” you announced, pleased with yourself while you watched the speed decrease.
“Fucking hell, love. You’re so hot,” your fiancé uttered, staring up at you from his spot on the floor.
Smirking, you teased, “oh yeah?” You walked over and sat yourself in his lap. “Tell me more.” You leaned in to kiss him but put too much pressure on your leg and, with the adrenaline draining, winced. “Oh, fucking ow,” you complained.
“Shit. Your leg.” Tangerine shifted his hands under your hips and stood, lifting you off the floor. He sat in one of the chairs, you still in his lap. “This better?” he asked. At your nod, he uttered, “good. I love you, Cherry,” and captured your lips with his.
You pulled away from the kiss long enough to respond, ”I love you too, Tan.” One of your hands buried itself in his hair, while the other headed for his shirt buttons.
Smiling against your lips, he shifted to give you better access to his shirt. “You're so into this,” he muttered. “There are three dead bodies over there and you're tryna strip me. Naughty little whore.”
“Shut up,” you hissed. “We're talking about you right now.” You pulled away from the kiss, keeping him in place with your hands on his head and chest when he tried to chase your lips. You knew he wouldn't try to move you for fear of jostling your injured leg; you were in complete control. Tilting his chin upwards, you heard his breath catch. This was fun. “What are your naughty secrets, baby?”
“I steal,” he answered, so fast it seemed almost involuntary. “Small things, stupid things; I'll just see an opportunity and pocket it. Most of the time it's stuff I don't even want but sometimes it's stuff like that necklace I gave you for your birthday last year.”
You fished the necklace out from under your top. “This one?” you asked, holding it up for him to see, and he nodded.
“Love, I'm sorry. I don't know why I do it. I'll buy-” you shut him up with your mouth, swallowing any apologies.
You felt Tangerine melting into it. When you were sure he wasn't going to speak again, you moved away from his mouth, trailing kisses across his jaw. In his ear, you whispered, “your watch is stolen,” and nipped the lobe with your teeth. He groaned at your words and actions, hips shifting unconsciously towards you. You grinned, obsessed with this new side of your relationship, and returned to making out with him.
“Oh jesus christ! What the hell is wrong with you two?” You broke apart at the sound of Lemon's voice. “There are literally dead bodies on the floor.”
Sliding your arms around Tangerine's neck, you waved at his brother. “Hi, Lemon,” you said. “We did our job: got the train away from the station and stopped it before it crashed. Am I not allowed to enjoy my free time with my fiancé?”
Tangerine wrapped a possessive arm around your waist and glared at Lemon. “You walked in on us,” he pointed out.
“You're in public! Fucking Diesels, man,” Lemon complained.
“We're not fucking. You interrupted us,” Tangerine grumbled.
“At least this means he won't complain about us fucking at home or else that's kinda hypocritical,” you said, smug, knowing that it drove Lemon up the wall when you both hid away in your bedroom for hours on end when you could've been hanging out with him. It wasn't your fault when Tangerine looked and sounded the way he did; he was addictive.
He asked Lemon, “is there a reason you're here or can you fuck off again? We're busy.”
“Is there a reason I'm checking up on my brother and his fiancé in the middle of a fight with some prick who had you terrified earlier? What do you think, you wanker?” Lemon responded.
You slapped a hand over Tangerine’s mouth before he could argue back and said, “boys, play nice. Lemon, I appreciate you coming to check on us but we’re all good here. Tangerine, I have a very nice hotel room back in Tokyo that we can take full advantage of before we need to fly home but Lemon’s right, we probably shouldn’t be doing this right now.” Tangerine switched his glare to you. “Baby, you know that doesn’t intimidate me,” you said, moving your hand to boop him on the nose.
Ladybug then burst into the room, in the middle of saying, “Cherry! Are you-” he cut himself off. “Woah, am I interrupting something?”
“No, Lemon got there first,” you complained. “How many more people are gonna come disrupt us? Maybe Mr White Death himself is next.”
“I doubt it. He looked in bad shape last I saw him,” Ladybug said.
Tangerine moved your hand off of his mouth. “Well why is everyone here instead of finishing him off?” he grumbled.
Lemon huffed. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.”
“Learn that from Thomas too?” Tangerine mocked him and got flipped off for his words.
Spinning around, Lemon said, “Joburg, we're outta here,” and the two men left the carriage.
“Finally,” your fiancé muttered. “Now, where were we?”
“Horny bastard.” You climbed off his lap. You tried not to wince when you put pressure on your injured leg.
“Love.” Tangerine pulled you back onto his lap, sideways this time. “No walking,” he told you. “You’ve still got a bullet hole in your leg. Until we get confirmation that fucker’s dead, we are staying right here.”
You faced him, prepared to argue but changed your mind on seeing his expression. “Fine,” you relented. “But only because you’re cute.”
That confirmation came not long later in the form of Lemon with a hand over his eyes, yelling about horny Diesels. Standing, Tangerine kept you off the group and in his arms. He walked down the train like that until you found Ladybug and the others. “Tell Maria I’ve got new plans for tonight,” you requested of your partner.
“Tell me yourself.” Your handler appeared at the torn out wall of the train. “What’s so important you were going to leave Ladybug alone after all that?”
You lent your head on Tangerine's shoulder. “I have an engagement to celebrate,” you replied.
She sighed. “Congratulations. If this fucks up any jobs, I'll make sure you're on nothing but babysitting duty for a year at least,” Maria said. She led Ladybug away to the car. The two Japanese men had left while you were talking.
Lemon said, “I swear to god if your hotel is the same as ours, I'm sleeping on the street tonight. I cannot handle you two fucking anywhere near me today,” and he too hopped out of the train.
“I don’t care what Lemon says, if our hotel is closer, we are going there,” Tangerine told you.
You laughed. “You really are a horny bastard,” you responded. “Take me to bed, fiancé.” His grip tightened momentarily and he set off for the closest available hotel room. You teased him the entire way; Tangerine got his thorough revenge when you made it.
Bonus: a few months later
“Hmmm, three out of ten,” you muttered through your earpiece. “That is not a good colour and those sleeves? Certainly a bold choice.” Maria just sighed. She’d given up on scolding you a while ago. “Oh! Hang on. I recognise that suit.”
“Cherry. You better not be getting distracted, you have a rich asshole to eliminate,” your handler said, sensing you almost definitely getting distracted. You didn’t respond, too busy grabbing your phone out and dialling a number.
You returned to watching through the scope of your gun until you received an answer. “Love, I’m on a job and I thought you were too tonight,” your fiancé answered.
“I am. Look behind you,” you told him. Tangerine spun on his heel and you took a second to appreciate his front half. “No, more to your left,” he turned to the side, “your other left.” He did something of a twirl to the other side.
You could sense the frustrated comment before it came. “Where the hell are you?”
Laughing to yourself, you replied, “on the roof of the building next door; it’s a snipe kind of mission. I just thought it was funny to see you do a little spin because I asked. Very nice outfit by the way, the only ten out of ten of the night.”
“Oh you are paying for that stunt tonight,” he threatened, tone getting gruffer by the second.
“Do you promise?” You saw him tense slightly the way he always did when you said something out right horny in public.
“Finish your job quick and come find out.” Emboldened by his statement, you put the phone down, found your target, took a steading breath and shot him in the head.
Maria sighed again; you’d forgotten she was there. “Why is it always the worst things that motivate you into finishing the job?” she asked and you hung up on her.
You picked your phone back up. “Make it back to your car before me and I’ll give you a blow job on the way home,” you promised. Tangerine froze, the only still figure in a panicked crowd, for a second or two before storming out of there. You burst into laughter before hanging up on him and making your way down off the roof. You didn’t want a single second of your relationship to change.