It was supposed to be a routine mission, get in, get the blueprints, get out. What they hadn’t accounted for was a mad scientist with so many weird gadgets he could put Barb to shame.
“Curt look out!” Owen yelled as he bodily shoved Curt out of the way, getting hit square in the chest with a vial filled with purple liquid.
“NO!” Curt screamed as he tackled the cackling scientist. Quickly knocking him out Curt whirled back around to check on Owen. Except Owen wasn’t there. He looked around wildly trying to find his partner, he couldn’t have gotten far. He stopped when he heard a small groan.
“Owen?” He asked. He saw movement in the corner of his eye, looking down he saw a pile of clothes that looked suspiciously like Owen’s moving. Suddenly a small head with a mop of brown hair poked out of the hole in his shirt. Big brown eyes blinked at him.
“Curt?” a small voice with an even smaller british accent asked.
‘Oh Jesus Christ that was cute,’ Curt thought. “Yeah, it’s me.” Curt looked around, spotting the broken vial with the tiniest amount of the substance still in it he gingerly picked it up and dropped it in a plastic bag. Just then his watch beeped.
“Curt, update are you and Owen alright?” Barb’s worried voice came through. Looking back at Owen he raised the watch to his mouth, “Yeah I’ll have to get back to you on that Barb.”
“Wha-” she started to ask but Curt turned off the comm. Owen reached up his arms and made grabby hands, indicating that he wanted to be picked up. Curt bent down and scooped him into his arms, making sure to keep his shirt wrapped around him. As an afterthought he grabbed the rest of Owen’s clothes as well, figuring he’d want them back when he returned to normal. He just needed to walk a mile to the car they came in and then he could let himself figure out how to deal with this. As he was walking out the door, Owen let out the tiniest yawn he’d ever heard and nuzzled his head into Curt’s neck.
‘He’s going to be the death f me if he keeps being this cute,’ Curt thought, then got an even worse thought. How in the hell was he going to explain this to Cynthia.
Getting to the car he buckled a sleeping Owen into the backseat before sliding into the driver’s seat. He sat there staring out the windshield before starting the car. Glancing back at Owen, he pulled onto the road and started driving towards the motel they were staying at.
Once getting to the motel he was suddenly thankful that it was still dark out, it might look suspicious if someone saw him carrying a small child wrapped in a too big shirt into his crappy motel room. Entering, he placed Owen on the bed and collapsed into the chair on the other side of the room. Taking a long draught from his flask he steeled himself and turned his comm back on. Not even five seconds later it buzzed and Cynthia’s furious voice blasted through, “MEGA WHAT THE FUCK!”
“OH NO DON’T START WITH YOUR SHIT MEGA. IN THE MIDDLE OF A MISSION YOU TURN OFF YOUR COMM AND THEN GO OFF THE GRID FOR THREE HOURS AND NOW YOU’RE TRYING TO ACT LIKE YOU’VE DONE NOTHING WRONG!” At one point during Cynthia’s furious rant Owen started shifting. Sighing Curt got up and crossed the room to where Owen’s beat up duffle bag lay. Digging through it for a minute he pulled out an old stuffed sheep that they both pretended didn’t accompany them on every mission. Placing it in Owen’s arms, he quickly brought it closer to his chest and fell back into deep sleep.
“Look Cynthia I know you’re pissed but I swear I’ll explain everything once I get back to headquarters.”
“No I’m done with you, get me Owen I want to talk to someone who’s actually competent.”
“He’s uh,” Curt glanced back at Owen furiously cuddling his sheep, “asleep.”
“Well then wake him up dumbass.”
“Look it’s complicated I swear it’ll make sense when I get back there.” Quickly before she could respond Curt turned his comm off again. Looking back at Owen again he grabbed the wad of cash they had in order to get anything they could need during the mission and set out in search of clothes that actually fit Owen.
He ran into a problem at the store, he had no idea what size to get Owen. Guessing he grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt that says ‘I am the rainbow sheep of my family and I’m proud of it’ because he couldn’t resist. Quickly paying and walking back to the motel, he hoped that Owen hadn't woken up while he was gone.
Quietly opening the door he looked at the bed, panic filled his body when he saw that Owen was no longer there. It dissipated a second later when he fully opened the door and saw Owen sitting on the floor, his backing facing him. The panic returned when he walked over to Owen and saw that he was playing with his gun.
“NO!,” he quickly snatched the gun from Owen’s hands. “You do not play with this this is NOT a toy.”
“But it’s fun,” Owen said making grabby hands towards the gun. Curt ran a hand down his face and vowed to never lead child Owen unsupervised again.
“No, you could get hurt,” Curt said while putting the gun back into his bag and grabbing the clothes he bought for Owen off the bed. Owen pouted and crossed his arms. Curt’s heart melted at that, why the hell is his partner so adorable as a child. Picking Owen up he got him into the clothes and tossed adult Owen’s shirt into his duffel. PLacing Owen back on the bed, he handed him his sheep and went about packing the few things scattered around the room into the bags. When he was done he grabbed both bags in one hand and Owen in the other. Going out to the car he threw the bags onto the passenger seat before buckling Owen into the backseat. Owen pouted a little when Curt put him down but other than that he was perfectly content. Starting the car he headed off towards the agency.
Pulling in he looked back at Owen, his eyes had gone wide at the big, imposing building in front of them and he subconsciously help his sheep closer to him. Curt sighed before picking up Owen and walking into the building. He headed towards Cynthia’s office, knowing that she’d want to talk to him. He ignored all the looks everyone gave him at the fact that he was holding a five year old child in his arms but he felt Owen wrap his arm around his neck tighter and hid his face into Curt’s chest. Arriving outside of Cynthia’s office he took a deep breath and knocked.
“Get your ass in here Mega!” She shouted from the inside. He flinched at the swear and hoped that she’d try to reign it in in front of Owen. Stepping in he saw Cynthia stand up, ready to give a speech but then she saw Owen.
“This is Owen,” Curt said cautiously, unsure of how she’d react. Owen looked up at the mention of his name and looked at Cynthia. She just blinked, “Is that a sheep?”
“His name is Sir Fluffsalot and he’s a spy,” Curt said without missing a beat. Cynthia facepalmed, “Jesus Christ.”