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“Batts’! Are youse’ ready to go?”
Battat could just barely make out the voice that called for him. He was awake, but not entirely. His brief daydream was starting to turn into a fully-fledged dream, and- while he couldn't quite recall what was happening, it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Warm.
Now that he thought of it, the room was rather chilly, wasn’t it?
“Battat!”
“Wh-What? What? What!?” the Pippins finally sputtered, lifting up his head and opening his eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the yellow-tinged office lights.
“Are youse even ready to go? You said youse would be ready in 5,” Jongler explained with a sigh, now impatiently leaning against the doorframe. Pluey poked his head in too, giving his friend a little wave.
Right. He did say that, now that he thought of it. But, apparently taking a short cat-nap on a desk littered with paper work was his preferred pastime.
…Whatever.
Giving a little stretch, Battat groaned and got up from his seat. Grabbing and tossing an empty coffee cup into the trash, Battat casually wandered over to his friends, “Alrighty then, lets go.”
Jongler gave a quick look over at Battat, then shook their head. Battat raised an eyebrow. What was his problem? “You seemed so ready to go, Jongler. What’s the holdup?” They probed.
“(ᵕ,,—ᴗ—,,),” Pluey gave a shrill note that sounded like laughter, lovingly tilting his head with a slow blink. Battat didn’t understand what was so funny.
Jongler sighed, “Battat. It’s colder out there than a cast-iron commode, where is your coat?”
A bit taken aback, Battat gazed over at his friends. Both of them adorned bulky winter coats. Jongler’s was a wine red, and Pluey’s yellow. They both looked gaudy, in his opinion.
Battat countered, “My…coat? I don’t need a coat! It can’t be that bad! It was fine this morning!” What kind of fool did these two take him for?! He was Tenna’s right-hand man, damnit! He wasn’t going to let a little inclement weather bog him down with stupid things like winter wear.
“Battat.” Repeated Jongler. They keep saying my name in such a condescending way. You’re not my parent! “When was the last time you looked outside?”
Battat laughed trying to play it off. “Oh, c’mon! The last time I looked outside was-”
The sound of the curtains scraping against its frame interrupted him. Looking over to see Pluey pull open the curtains, Battat’s jaw dropped.
The window frame held up a layer of at least 7 inches of fluffy, freshly-fallen snow, and the night sky was lit up bright as day with a torrential continuance of snow. It looked cold as- well, not hell, that’s for sure. Battat shivered.
“Um. When did that happen?”
Pluey giggled, Jongler sighed again, “Bout’ 2 PM.”
“Right. I knew that,” Battat lied, shrugging and turning back to the door.
“Right-” skeptically replied Jongler, “If ya’ knew, where the hell is your coat?”
And, they were back to this again, “I’ll be fine.”
Pausing to take a deep breath, Jongler relaxed their shoulders and continued on, “Batts’, we love you, but you can’t keep doin’ this to yourself.”
Grumbling, Battat crossed his arms with a hmph! “Fine. Maybe I didn’t think to bring a coat.”
“Battat…”
“What, what, what?!” Shouted Battat, tensing as his arms went up, flailing with evident expression. “What is your issue?! It’s an honest mistake!”
“I knows, I knows, Batts,” Jongler explained softly, “It’s just that… youse helped run the weather segment yesterday.”
What.
Oh, yeah. I did.
“Gh-!” Battat didn’t know how to respond, blushing a little with embarrassment. “So I forgot, big whoop! I’m a busy guy, ya’ know!”
Jongler nodded, “Right, as you have established.”
Battat narrowed his eyes, sighing, feeling an awkwardness spread across the room “Well, now that that’s out of the way, shall we go back home?” He asked, glancing up at Jongler and Pluey.
“...No,” Jongler said firmly.
Battat clicked his tongue, surprised, “Why not???”
“Cause’ you needs a coat, Battat!”
“I told you I'll be fine!” Battat spat back, flailing his arms. Jongler said nothing, simply crossing their arms to show how serious they really were. Pluey looked over at the Zapper, nodded, then copied their stance…to the best of his abilities. He looked a lot less threatening, but the two's message was clear; Battat was not to leave until he got a coat.
Grumbling with frustration, Battat shouted, “FINE! What do you want me to do then, sleep here? Because I will! I WILL!” He threatened, grabbing a pen and pointing it defensively.
If Jongler had eyes, they would roll them, amused. “You are not doing that again, Battat.”
Battat chuckled, still gripping onto his pen, “Why not???”
“Cause’ last time we let you do that’, you ended up staying here for three days straight.”
Battat shrugged, “So? It’s not like we don’t have a private space here,” recalled Battat, remembering how he just used a pillow at his desk, much to his spine’s dismay.
“Did’ja even sleep then, Battat? Cause’ the breakroom vending machine was out of energy drinks every morning.”
“I-” They’re onto me, damnit! Battat took a deep breath to try and control his temper, “There was…a lot of work that needed to be caught up on. Everyone at this studio is a slacker! A slacker, you hear?! Someone needs to keep the ratings up!”
“That is not your job.”
“Wh- Whatever!” Battat stuttered, putting down the pen, realizing arguing with his friend was a losing game. “Fine. Where the hell should I get a coat, anyway?”
“(°、。),” With that question, Pluey turned to face Jongler, an inquisitive look on his face. How did they expect him to find a coat before they left?
Jongler put a hand to their face, thinking, “Hm…you could just borrow from the lost n’ found in the break room…” they suggested.
“Great,” said Battat, clapping his hands, and making his way back to the door, “Let’s do that, then. And make it quick, I want to go back to sleep.”
Following behind him, Jongler chided, “That’s rich, coming from you, Batts, why don't you just drink an energy drink and pull an all-nighter like you do every other night?”
Stopping in his tracks, Battat clenched his teeth, turning back around to face the Zapper, “Okay, that was uncalled for.”
Pluey chuckled.
Sliding out the dusty lost and found box, Jongler crouched down and grabbed out a pile of clothes, tossing it over to Battat.
“Yeesh, there is a lotta’ stuff in here! How bouts’ you sort through all that while I look at what's left in here?” Jongler asked, poking their head at what was left in the box.
“Sure,” replied Battat, scoping his hand through the pile. The pile had a smell to it, like a mix of stale lavender and fresh linen scented perfumes. Pleasant at first, but sickening through time. Grumbling, Battat pulled out a piece at random, this item being a traditional red Pippins pancho.
“Ew.”
He tossed it aside, pulling out another piece. This one looked like Tenna’s signature red suit, only smaller.
Weird, thought Battat. Would be good for Mike if it was maybe a size bigger, he noted, tossing it back.
The next piece was a pair of gaudy shorts with little clouds on them. Battat sighed, looking over to Jongler, who now had Pluey by their side, helping. The dust made Pluey sneeze, or at least that was how Battat interpreted the sound that sputtered out of his mouth.
“Any luck there, you guys?”
Pluey shook his head, holding up a shirt with a washed-out TV Time! logo on the front.
“Hey!” Battat exclaimed, leaning over and grabbing the shirt from Pluey, “This is mine! I've been looking for that.”
Looking up from the box, Jongler raised an eyebrow, “Why do you have that? And how dids it end up here?”
Blushing as he crumpled it into his bag, Battat lied, “Uhh, they were giving them out for free! You never want to pass up a free shirt, ya’know?” In reality, he had taken the shirt here to wear under his normal uniform. It was comfortable, okay? It made him feel comfortable. It wasn’t weird!
“Anyways,” Battat continued, trying to gloss over any further questions, “It doesn’t look like we are gonna find a coat here.”
“Never say never, Batts,” encouraged Jongler, setting aside a loose sock.
“Right-” Battat responded, eyeing the sock, face wrinkling with disgust, “Well, with this being the first snow and all, there might not have been any coats here to lose.”
“You don’t know that, Batts!” Jongler insisted, pulling out another Pippin's cape.
Battat sighed, getting up and crossing his arms. “This is hopeless.” Jongler sometimes got really caught up over being in the right. Well, so did Battat. They were too alike, that was the problem. He glanced out the breakroom window.
Still snowing, he noted, looking out at the sidewalk. Their apartment wasn't too far. If I walk really fast…I won’t get too cold. He shrugged. It seemed like sound enough logic.
Turning back to his friends and stealthily inching towards the door, Battat waved, “Well, you two have fun with that, I’m going home!” He announced, slipping out the door before either could react
“BATTAT!”
Getting into a full on running pace, Battat ran towards the studio doors, trying to outpace Jongler. Zappers, given their occupation, were pretty athletic. Much more athletic than Battat’s sleep-deprived, running-on-energy-drinks body, so Battat knew he had to make his ground quickly.
Putting a hand on the door, Battat shivered as he realized how cold even the doorknob was. Bracing himself, Battat opened it, running out immediately, trying to ignore the chilly draft that quickly greeted him.
He knew the way home like the back of his hand. Down the steps, quick left, and straight down the sidewalk, all the way home. It especially helped that, despite it being an ungodly hour of the morning, the blizzard had lit the sky up a magnificent white, making it seem more a moody early evening rather than reality. It felt sort of magical.
“BATTAT! YOU ARE GONNA’ CATCH A COLD!”
Jongler’s voice was growing closer. He couldn’t let them catch up to him, he couldn't. Battat was simply too stubborn to let them win. Was Jongler correct? Well, the cold felt piercing, the wind blew against his skin, and snowflakes dusted onto his head. So, yes, Jongler was correct. But Battat would never let them know. Besides, as long as Battat kept running, he would stay warm enough!
Everything was peppered in a thick layer of snow, untainted by plows or shovels. It glittered against the sky. For as much as Battat hated winter, it was sorta…beautiful. If only the temperature was just as pleasing.
So caught up in admiring the view, Battat didn’t have the time to react when his foot slipped against ice hidden under the snow-littered path.
Shit-!
It wasn't the pain that shocked him when he hit the ground, no, it was the cold. Swearing again as he bit his lip, Battat accepted defeat and rested his back against the snowbank. In the distance, he heard Pluey give a worried shrill, and Jongler call out for him.
“Battat-!” It didn’t take long for the two to reach him, Jongler lifting him up from the ground and letting Pluey take him into his arms.
“Σ(°□°´Ⅲ)!!?,” cried out Pluey, holding Battat closely in his arms as he stood back up.
Nodding, Jongler added, “Plue’s right, you really took a tumble just now, Batts! Will you be okay?” They asked, brushing snow off their side as they joined Pluey in standing.
Battat blinked, trying to catch his thoughts, squirming against Pluey’s grip. The Shadowguy didn’t look tough, but had a pretty good hold on him.
“I’m f-fine!” Insisted Battat, trying to ignore the way his teeth chattered as he spoke. And also how the heat radiating off of Pluey felt…pretty nice.
“You're a liar,” Chided Jongler.
Still squirming and pushing against Pluey to get back down, “I am n-not!” he insisted.
“Right,” Chuckled Jongler, holding out a hand and reaching towards Battat’s, who was currently clawing against the crook of Pluey’s elbow. They grabbed onto it, the warmth in their palms instantly holding onto the cold that laced Battat’s.
“W-what are you-????”
Oh. That feels…nice.
I CAN’T TELL THEM THAT!!
“What was dat’ about bein’ fine?” Joked Jongler, taking a finger and lovingly rubbing it across Battat’s knuckles.
Unwillingly, Battat felt his face light up with blush. Embarrassed, he tried to hide his face, which put him in the other embarrassing predicament of rubbing his face into Pluey’s chest.
Letting go of Battat’s hand, who quickly tucked it away in a place where they could not get it again, Jongler chuckled, “Dere’ ya’ go! Dat’ll warm up your face!”
Battat hated to admit that the flushed feeling in his face did offset some of the chill from the wind. But at what cost? Finally feeling the blush disappear, Battat turned his face away from Pluey, just to give Jongler a big glare.
“You did NOTHING!”
Now it was Jongler’s turn to blush, “Sure thing, boss.”
“>⩊<” Said Pluey, who was finding this interaction especially heart-warming.
Saying nothing, Battat turned to glare at Pluey.
“(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶),” replied Pluey with a smile, holding Battat closer as him and Jongler started walking towards home.
"So," Rambled Jongler, "I was thinkin', once we get back home, I'll whip up some hot chocolate, Pluey could gather a bunch of blankets into the living room, and we watch movies til' we all fall asleep?"
Battat grumbled, realizing there was no escape.
“You two are the worst.”