#theyre grave robbers harold

[hermitblurbs]

This isn’t the first time they’ve been on a job together. There’s not a lot of people in this little illegal business Grian’s in, so when they need someone to talk the team out of things, it’ll be Scar he’s working with.

“It’s not grave-robbing, per se,” the man of the hour bolsters. Grian makes an exaggerated eye-roll behind him, mouthing his words mockingly. That gets a giggle out of one of their diggers.

“We’ve just been sent to check out the dig for traps, make sure it’s safe for excavating. See? That’s our traps guy.” Grian gives a little wave. “He’ll smell a trap from 40 feet away.” Wait, what.

“Okay Scar, that’s enough talking,” he jumps in before Scar can say anything that’ll damn him more. There’s no collar to grab like he usually does, and he ends up peeking around the conman’s unfairly large bicep to stare him down.

“Where are your clothes.”

“It’s hot here!” His teammate says by explanation, and Grian stares at him in his red jumper.

Why couldn’t it have been Impulse. They run in the same division of traps so they really only see each other for the big jobs, but from what Grian’s heard of this place, it would’ve been completely plausible to rope him into it. But no, every time someone new came they always insisted on recommending this ‘really good digger, guys, he can talk his group out of anything.’

That’s, of course, ignoring the fact that Grian always tells them to tell their contact to come in for an interview with the group. Scar was useful. And maybe he enjoys their constant bickering more than he lets on, but if anyone says anything about that, he’s rigging their house with TNT.

Scar knows, because of course he knows. He laughs at the offended look plastered across Grian’s face and walks right past the keeper to get to the jeeps. The keeper lets him for free, because Scar’s words are bloody magic. Their group files into the other cars in line and Grian contemplates going into the one with all the equipment, but Scar gives the passenger seat a pat and he has to follow.

“Where to?” He asks as Grian finishes securing his seatbelt.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he scoffs, recognizing the teasing curl of his grin.

“I forgot! C’mon G, where are we off to?” Grian sighs and finally decides to humor his partner.

“The Red Desert.”