A/N- just a quick little Frank Moses/William Cooper piece that is a part of the Married!verse that I have floating around my head
Disclaimer: Don't own.
"You've become predictable Moses."
Cooper strains against the ropes, tries to force fat, numb fingers to work as he attempts to undo the complicated knots. He's still groggy, uncoordinated, from whatever they gave him. The cloth in his mouth makes him want to gag; the smell of oil left over from its previous use reaches him. He doesn't think about it.
"There was a time when no one would have been able to get a hold of the Great Frank Moses."
Hastings has a manic glint in his murky brown eyes; there is sweat beading along his receding hairline. The room they're in is warm, but with the flushed, ruby red cheeks, it's a fairly safe bet that it's due to excitement.
Coopers fingers slip on the knots.
"Keep talking sweet heart." Frank slurs eyes unfocused. There's a cut on his temple still freely bleeding. The crimson tracks a sticky trail down past his eye, his cheek bone, to his jaw where it sits momentarily before collecting on the collar of his shirt.
Cooper blinks, tears his focus away. He rotates his wrists slowly, trying to loosen the ropes, searching for some room to maneuver- he hasn't found anything in the past twenty minutes. A bead of sweat rolls down his spine to settle uncomfortably in the dip of his back. He's down to his undershirt and pants; they've taken the rest of his clothes, up to, and including his socks, and the knife he'd kept concealed in his belt. It could be the humidity that makes it hard to draw a breath- but more likely it's the beating his ribs had taken when he'd come to in Robert Hastings green house. Waking up to the sight of Frank bleeding had never kept him very calm.
Hastings laughs loud and ugly, smug in a way that makes Coopers skin crawl. Once he's out of the bindings, he decides calm and level headed, he's going to wrap his hands around his throat and cut off that laughter permanently.
"The more you talk, the faster we get out of here." Frank continues, and Cooper wants to rage that there shouldn't be two of them there, that Frank shouldn't have followed him on the op in the first place. He's a fully grown man. He's a CIA Agent; he's not a civilian. He's not Sarah.
And isn't it sad that Frank's fears that he'd had when he'd been with Sarah- that she would be hurt because of him- are what have gotten Frank into this situation with him now? Because Frank worries, and Cooper loves him for it, but now he has to live with the fact that he's gotten Frank killed.
At least he won't have to live long with the thought.
"I can't wait to watch you bleed." Hastings leans in close to Frank, his grin wide and sharp.
Cooper seethes and tries to convey without words what will happen if he lays a single finger on Frank.
"Can I get a last request?" Franks asks, gaze off somewhere in the distance. Hastings hesitates, for a moment unsure. He recovers quickly.
"A last request from Frank Moses?"" He pauses, considering. "I suppose I could grant you a request- after all, the idea of killing you has put me in a rather generous mood. What is it? Will you beg me to spare the life of your Agent perhaps? He must be important for you to come rushing in here and get yourself caught."
He steps away from Frank, tied to a chair a few feet away, and comes to stand before Cooper. He imagines all the possible ways he could kill Hastings, but then he'd have to deal with the seven guards scattered around the room. Incapacitate Hastings, kill the guards and then go back and finish the job- slowly.
"Your Agent wants to kill me." Hastings muses, producing a Glock from a shoulder holster under the tailored cut of his suit. He addresses Cooper this time. "You do, don't you? And after you caused so much trouble for me too. If I were a better man I might even let you say goodbye."
Hastings trails a casual hand across Cooper's cheek to the gag there. His skin crawls with the touch. He holds himself perfectly still and stares up at the man, anger receding suddenly leaving Cooper with the clear thought: he's going to be the one to kill Hastings.
"I am not a better man, however." He finishes and takes the safety off.
The ropes binding his hands finally give a bit. It's not enough.
"Actually," Franks voice, missing the notable slur from before, pauses Hastings as he presses the gun to Cooper's chest where his heart is beating rabbit quick. Cooper doesn't look at Frank, resists the overwhelming urge to do so. "I was going to ask you to take a breath mint. Mouthwash- anything. I'm begging you, it's like something crawled in there and died."
Hastings makes the mistake of looking at Frank and the RED Agent is up and out of the chair they'd secured him to, ropes in a heap on the floor, in a flash. He freezes- like so many do when faced with the force of nature that is Frank Moses- and before he can pull the trigger Frank is on him.
Hastings lands with a thud on the floor, neck broken. Cooper hears a series of familiar pops and his guards drop, one after another, before they even have a chance to reach for their weapons. Neat little entry wounds decorate their foreheads.
It's over in seconds and for a moment Cooper is at a loss of what to do.
And then Frank fills his vision and the world refocuses.
"Coop." Big hands, rough with familiar callouses cup his cheeks gently. A thumb traces his cheek bone- probably trying to permanently erase Hastings touch. He grunts, half to let Frank know he's okay, and partially to let him know that if Frank doesn't remove his gag in the next few seconds he's sleeping on Marvin's couch for the next few weeks.
Frank seems to understand as a moment later he's unfastening the cloth as he says,
"I'm taking it off- just try to keep the yelling to a minimum?"
Cooper finally gets his hands free as Frank pulls the gag away and he reaches out, grabs the older man by the shirt and tugs him into a spine melting I can't believe we survived again kiss.
There's a smug grin tugging at the corner of Frank's lips when Cooper finally lets him up for air.
Cooper remembers why he was mad.
"You followed me onto an op." His voice is hoarse, mouth still dry from the gag and his breath probably doesn't smell minty fresh either but Frank doesn't mention it. He narrows his eyes.
"I had a bad feeling about this one." Frank drops down to quickly untie the rope around Cooper's ankles. "Looks like I was right."
Sometimes he really wants to hit him.
The smug tone makes its way into Frank's voice. Cooper, now free, gets to his feet and steps around Franks outstretched hand, still angry.
"You promised." He seethes, too many emotions swirling around, too much energy with no outlet. "After last time you promised not to interfere Frank- I'm a god damn Agent. I am not Sarah."
A bullet imbeds itself in a potted plant less than a foot from him. He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face.
"Her aims gotten a lot better."
"Yeah," Frank nods, holding himself like he isn't sure how to approach Cooper. It makes something in his chest tighten. "Victoria and Marvin have been training her."
The idea of Sarah and Marvin bonding worries him.
"Listen Coop," Frank takes a hesitant step forwards and Cooper relaxes his stance, forces some of the anger to be pushed aside. "I knew what I was doing letting Hastings catch me."
He knows that; it's not entirely what's bothering him.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick your ass to the couch for making me think you were going to die." And that I would have to watch. It's meant to be a demand but it comes out more pleading. The adrenaline is starting to fade, leaving him feeling worn. If he's honest with himself he needs Frank to give him a reason he should forgive him.
"Because we made it out of this one alive." Cooper glares and Frank tries again with, "Because I promise to try and be less obsessive about following you on jobs?"
"Marvin's been giving you advice again." Cooper accuses but he finds himself giving in anyways. "You owe me- you nearly gave me a heart attack Old Man."
"Who you calling old, kid?" Frank scoops up two guns – the guards won't need them anymore – and leads him from the room.
"I hope your back can handle that spring in the couch you refuse to fix." Cooper threatens cheerfully, the knowledge of a job complete seeping in to replace the anger from before.
"What I meant to say was: how about a blow job followed by life affirming sex?"
"Throw in breakfast in bed and we're going to the next Mets game." Frank grimaces but nods. "Great- who's our exit?"
"Ivan and Marvin."
"Ivan's in the country?"
"Yeah," Frank leads the way through the silent mansion – probably courtesy of Marvin. "We've been invited to dinner at Victoria's."
Outside there's an old rusty Chevy with Ivan behind the wheel. Marvin waves from the passenger seat clutching his stuffed pig tight to his chest. Cooper eyes it with distrust and climbs into the back seat, Frank sliding in next to him.
"I have to check in with Langley." What does it say about him that he's only just remembering to check in with his bosses to let them know the op was a success – barring a few minor details. It probably says he spends too much time with Frank Moses and his rag tag group. Or at least that he's become one of them.
"Later." Frank says, threading their hands together. "Right now home and some life affirming sounds better."
Cooper pretends not to hear Marvin's snort or Ivan's chuckle from the front seat.