Guldrin’s Gluttony: Family Bound by Speed & Food

Guldrin shook his head, watching Casey reel in the smoking remains of the dummy like it was the catch of the day. His smirk widened, amusement dancing in his golden eyes. "You know, that wasn't exactly what I envisioned when I designed it, but I've got to admit, it's oddly satisfying to watch."

'I lied, that is exactly what I made it for… And to try my fishing skill, which I have YET to try.' He thought ruefully to himself.

Shiro tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes gleaming with restrained amusement. "Maybe we should consider including a disclaimer with the prototype: 'Not responsible for testers who… overcommit.'"

Chuck, still staring at the charred and slightly crispy remnants of the dummy, hesitated for a beat before raising his hand like a nervous schoolkid. "Uh, quick question… Does this thing come with a warning label? Or maybe a safety manual? Possibly a hotline for traumatized bystanders?"

Guldrin rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the table. "Manuals are for people who don't trust their instincts, Chuck. You're holding it wrong if you think you need one."

Sarah snorted, unable to hide her amusement. "That sounds suspiciously like something Casey would say."

Casey let the ruined dummy drop with an unceremonious thud, dusting his hands off like he'd just completed a day's hard labor. "This knife doesn't need a manual. What it needs is a medal. Hell, Guldrin, you ever think about pitching this to the military? DARPA would lose their collective minds over something like this."

The playful glint in Guldrin's eyes dimmed slightly, his smirk softening into a more subdued expression. "No offense, Casey, but I didn't build this for the battlefield. The last thing I want is one of my creations being used in wars I had no part in starting. Though, that is the General's choice by this point."

Casey gave a gruff grunt, his version of an apology, and dropped the subject. He wasn't about to argue with the kid, especially when it was clear Guldrin had drawn a hard line in the sand. Instead, he admired the blade with something bordering on reverence, clearly reluctant to let it go.

"I guess that's fair," Casey admitted. "Still, this thing's a work of art. Shame to keep it under wraps."

"Consider it your keepsake," Guldrin offered, waving a hand as if it were no big deal. "You can keep that one. Prototype bonus or whatever. Just… don't carve up innocent dummies all day, and definitely no people. Unless they really deserve it."

Casey's rare grin stretched wider as he sheathed the knife with a satisfying click. "Don't worry, kid. I'll take good care of it."

Chuck's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, resembling a goldfish trying to decide whether to dive back into the tank. 

He clearly wanted to voice some concern, probably about the wisdom of handing a human battering ram like Casey, a high-tech electroshock knife, but wisely decided against it. Instead, he shot a nervous glance at Sarah, who merely shrugged with a resigned look that screamed This is Casey we're talking about.

Shiro, still nestled comfortably against Guldrin's side, tilted her head with a sly smile. "He already has his workshop to keep him busy. Full-time weapons development might be overkill, don't you think?" Her voice was light, but there was an unmistakable protective edge to her tone, as if she wasn't about to let anyone monopolize Guldrin's brilliance.

Casey, however, wasn't one for sentiment. "Kid, if you ever change your mind, you've got a market. Just sayin'."

Guldrin chuckled, ruffling Shiro's silver hair affectionately. "Yeah, I'll stick to making stuff for fun. Besides, keeping up with Shiro's wishlist is already a full-time gig."

Shiro smirked, her cheeks faintly pink. "You love it, and you know it."

"Fair point, the pizza drone has been a pleasure to build, and surprisingly it has been useful as well." He conceded with a grin.

As the tension eased, Chuck shuffled awkwardly toward the table, his expression caught somewhere between amazement and sheer disbelief. "So… just to clarify, you're giving Casey that thing for free? Like, no strings attached? No receipt?"

Guldrin raised an eyebrow. "It's a prototype, Chuck. You think I'm going to charge for a test run? Besides, Casey's the perfect guinea pig… I mean, field tester."

Casey grunted, clearly unbothered by the backhanded compliment. "Damn right, I am."

Sarah rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. "I'll make sure he doesn't go overboard with it. Probably."

"Good luck with that," Guldrin quipped, earning a chuckle from Shiro.

With the knife properly sheathed and the dummy's remains being cleared away, the mood shifted toward closure. The strange, chaotic energy that had filled the room began to dissipate,

As the air settled and the faint scent of singed fabric lingered, Guldrin reached into the bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. It was worn but well-kept, its dark brown cover soft with age. The publishing company thought using more aged material would become a selling point, and it turned out they were correct. The title was etched in gold lettering: Memoir of a Forgotten Soldier. With a measured movement, he held it out to Casey.

"What's this?" Casey asked, his voice gruff as he accepted the book. His expression wavered between curiosity and suspicion, like he was holding something more dangerous than the knife he was already enamored with.

"A story," Guldrin said, his tone calm and deliberate. "One worth reading."

Casey flipped open the cover with practiced precision, his thumb running along the thick pages. His sharp eyes scanned the first few lines, his features softening almost imperceptibly before his usual stoic mask snapped back into place. He didn't ask questions, didn't offer commentary, just nodded once and tucked the book under his arm with the quiet reverence of someone given a task they'd never admit was meaningful.

Shiro's gaze shifted to Casey, her crimson eyes gleaming with knowing amusement. "He'll like it," she said lightly, her tone carrying that playful edge she often used. "Even if he won't admit it."

Guldrin shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "He doesn't have to admit it. He just has to enjoy, and maybe learn?"

The room fell into a brief, contemplative silence before the sharp crackle of Beckman's voice pierced through. Her tone was brisk, as always, and carried an air of finality. "If we're done here, you're free to go. But remember, Guldrin, Shiro, our arrangement is ongoing. We'll be in touch."

Guldrin didn't bother hiding his relief as he straightened, his hands sliding casually into his pockets. "Figured as much. Just make sure to keep it to emergencies. And for the record, no surprise visits. I've had enough uninvited guests to last a lifetime."

Beckman's face remained impassive, though her slight eyebrow twitch suggested she wasn't amused. Without a word, she logged off, leaving the room quiet save for the hum of electronics.

Guldrin exhaled deeply, his usual mischievous smirk replaced with a faint look of weariness. "Finally. I was starting to think we'd have to take root here."

Shiro giggled softly, leaning closer to him with a playful nudge. "It wasn't that bad. Admit it, you enjoyed showing off."

"Maybe a little," Guldrin conceded, the smirk sliding back into place.

Chuck stepped forward, his signature awkward energy filling the space. "Uh, so… this is goodbye for now, huh? Are you sure you don't want to stick around? There's a fantastic frozen yogurt place nearby. Or, you know, next time we could skip the part where Casey almost fries a dummy to oblivion."

Though he offered the invitation with a half-smile, his shifting gaze and nervous stance betrayed his relief at the prospect of them leaving. The image of Guldrin's unnervingly calm expression, as he neutralized two threats earlier, was still fresh in his mind, a stark reminder that the young man was no ordinary teenager.

Guldrin raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Tempting as frozen yogurt sounds, I think we've had enough excitement for one day."

Shiro chimed in, her voice light but edged with humor. "Besides, the yogurt would melt before we finished explaining to Casey why electrocution isn't an acceptable customer service tactic."

Casey grunted, his arms crossed. "I know restraint."

"Sure you do," Sarah said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she leaned against a nearby console. The remark earned a muffled snicker from Chuck, who quickly covered his mouth after a glare was shot his way.

Without further fanfare, Guldrin and Shiro turned toward the exit, their movements perfectly in sync, as though they'd rehearsed this departure countless times. 

It helped, of course, that they had studied the building's blueprints beforehand, every corridor, every blind spot, committed to memory. 

The doors hissed open with a mechanical precision, and as they stepped through, the atmosphere seemed to shift, becoming lighter somehow.

Chuck watched them go, his gaze a mix of awe and relief. "You know," he said after a beat, "they're kind of scary. But, like, in a cool way. Like if Batman and Catwoman decided to moonlight as gadget designers."

Sarah smirked, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the console. "That's… one way to put it."

Casey, meanwhile, stood silently, the electroshock knife in one hand and the book in the other. His usual sharp commentary was absent, replaced with a thoughtful expression as he stared at the embossed title. For once, he seemed genuinely lost in thought.

"Memoir of a Forgotten Soldier," he muttered, his thumb brushing over the gilded letters. "Interesting."

As the heavy doors of Castle slid shut behind Guldrin and Shiro, the room they left behind seemed to exhale. Silence descended, thick and contemplative, as those inside processed the whirlwind that had just exited their lives.

For Chuck, the absurdity of the situation clung to him like static electricity. Who were these two, really? Teenagers with a car that looked straight out of a gearhead's fever dream, an arsenal of deadly skills, and the ability to pull the rug out from under the CIA?

It was the stuff of spy movies, and yet here he was… living it.

For Sarah, the encounter left a different impression. She was no stranger to danger, to the unpredictable, but there was something unnerving about the unspoken understanding between Guldrin and Shiro. 

It wasn't simply their precision or their mysterious backgrounds, it was the way they operated in a world that seemed too big and strange for even her to fathom.

And for Casey, ever the pragmatist, the weight of the items in his hands was more tangible than any introspection. A knife, perfectly balanced, custom-forged to a level that made his military-issued blades feel like toys. A book, its cover simple yet captivating, promised insights he wasn't sure he wanted but couldn't resist. 

For the first time in years, John Casey felt like he'd met kindred spirits in chaos.

—

–

-

Meanwhile, outside Castle, Guldrin was practically glowing with smug satisfaction. As they reached the parking lot, his smirk turned into a full-blown cackle. "Hehehe, ahaha, bahahahaha! Eight-point-five percent! I got her to agree to eight-point-five percent! I'm going to be rich! I got the information I wanted, didn't have to sign my life away, and we didn't burn bridges with the government!"

Shiro rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. "We're already rich, you know. But hey, more money never hurts. That said… I feel bad for whoever Casey uses that knife on. Also, let's face it, the General is definitely going to mass-produce that thing. It's too good not to."

"Not my problem," Guldrin replied, his tone flippant but his grin unrelenting. "I don't have to give away my inventions unless I want to. That's the beauty of our arrangement. I get to tinker, they get to snoop, and we get to filter out anything we don't want them to hear. And let's not forget: I learned more today than I ever thought possible. My mom is looking for me, Shiro. I have a sister. Two moms, actually." 

His voice softened, the gravity of his words settling over him. "I wonder how Mom Letty's going to react. She'll always be my mom. But if Unohana really cares about me like the General implied…"

Shiro reached over, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "You'll figure it out. Letty loves you, Guldrin. She'll understand. And as for Unohana… well, maybe it's time you gave her a chance. What is wrong with having two moms?"

He nodded, his expression momentarily serious before a glint of mischief returned to his eyes. "Speaking of Letty, we'd better hurry. If she finds out we snuck off, we're toast."

The Chevelle SS sat waiting for them like a coiled predator, its glossy black paint gleaming under the parking lot's fluorescent lights. As Guldrin slid into the driver's seat, the engine came to life with a deep, throaty roar that echoed through the parking lot. Shiro settled into the passenger seat, her silver hair catching the faint glow from the dashboard.

Guldrin gripped the wheel with practiced ease, his smirk firmly in place. "Let's make this quick and quiet. No way am I getting grounded over this."

Shiro chuckled, leaning back and crossing her arms. "Grounded? Try obliterated. Mother-in-law's glare could probably vaporize us on the spot."

"Then we'd better not give her a reason to use it," he quipped, shifting into gear and guiding the car out of the parking lot.

The city unfolded before them, a glittering tapestry of lights against the night sky. The Chevelle glided onto the road, its engine purring with the confidence of a predator on the hunt. For a moment, the hum of the tires and the soft whir of the engine were the only sounds between them.

"So," Shiro began, her tone light but teasing, "how does it feel to be an official government contractor now? You've gone from rogue tinkerer to inventor for the spies."

Guldrin snorted, his smirk widening. "Feels like I pulled off the heist of the decade. They think they're getting a deal, but we both know who's really winning here."

Shiro tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You do realize this means more snooping, right? Not everyone's going to be as easy to fool as Chuck."

"True," Guldrin admitted, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "But that's half the fun. Besides, they're not the only ones playing the game. We're just better at it."

Shiro smirked, resting her chin in her hand as she watched the city blur past. "You really do love this, don't you? The scheming, the deals, the drama. I bet you placed a transmitter inside the knife you gave Casey; right? And there will be no way for them to find it?"

"Guilty as charged," he replied, his voice tinged with a boyish enthusiasm. "But hey, it's not all bad. We've got the resources we need, a few new allies, and, most importantly, we didn't have to blow anything up. That's progress."

Shiro rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress a small laugh. "Low bar, but I'll take it."

"Chuck's harmless, but the rest, well, I am glad they aren't enemies." Guldrin replied with a wave of his hand, his voice light and dismissive, as though he were brushing off a fly. "Casey, on the other hand… well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of that knife. Did you see his face when I handed him the book? The guy looked like Christmas came early. Which, being Christmas Eve, I guess it did."

Shiro leaned back in her seat, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "It was a good call, though. Casey seems like the kind of person who'd appreciate Big Boss's story. Do you think he'll read it?"

"Read it?" Guldrin shot her a glance, his grin infectious. "Casey's probably halfway through chapter one already. That man screams 'closet bookworm.' Bet you anything he's got a shelf full of military memoirs and survival manuals at home."

Shiro raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You sure about that? He doesn't strike me as the introspective type."

"Exactly," Guldrin said, his grin widening further. "The quiet ones always are. It's like… some kind of universal law."

The Chevelle SS roared beneath them as they navigated the deserted streets, the engine's throaty hum filling the space between words. 

Shiro continued after a beat of silence, her voice thoughtful, "What's the plan now? I mean, after everything we learned today, about your family, the contract, all of it."

Guldrin's playful demeanor faltered for a moment, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as his brow furrowed. "Honestly? I don't know. Finding out about Unohana, Mom, changes things. It's not simply about us anymore. If she's looking for me, it means there's a whole other part of my life I've never even thought about."

Shiro turned slightly to face him, her silver hair catching the faint glow of the dashboard lights. "Do you want to find her? I mean, really find her?"

He hesitated, the weight of her question palpable in the stillness of the car. "I think so, yeah. But not yet. I need to figure out how to balance everything first. Letty and Mia, they're my family too. I don't want them to feel like they're being replaced."

"They won't," Shiro said firmly, her tone brooking no argument. "They love you. And besides, you're terrible at keeping secrets. They'll find out eventually, and when they do, they'll understand."

They turned onto their street, the familiar sight of home coming into view. The streetlight cast a warm, inviting glow against the driveway, a stark contrast to the covert adrenaline that had carried them this far. Guldrin parked the Chevelle with the precision of a seasoned driver, cutting the engine and plunging the world into silence save for the faint ticking of the cooling engine.

We're clear, Guldrin declared, unbuckling his seatbelt with a triumphant grin. Mission accomplished.

Shiro smirked as she opened her door. Let's not celebrate too loudly. We've still got to act natural.

"Natural's my middle name," he quipped, stepping out of the car.

"Sure it is," she shot back with a healthy dose of sarcasm, closing the door with a soft thud.

They entered the shop like seasoned operatives, moving with practiced stealth. Shoes were slipped off with nary a sound, and they navigated the rooms with the precision of a well-rehearsed heist crew. 

The faint ticking of the wall clock was their only companion as they made their way to the kitchen.

Guldrin poured himself a glass of water, grabbing a few snacks, leaning casually against the counter as he watched Shiro claim one of the chairs. You think they'll buy it if they ask where we were?

Shiro shrugged, her expression unbothered. "We were here the whole time. If they don't find any evidence to the contrary, there's no reason for them to question it".

He raised his glass in a mock toast. "Here's to plausible deniability."

She rolled her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. "Just don't push your luck, mastermind."

The quiet comfort of their home settled around them as the adrenaline of the day ebbed away. Their voices dropped to hushed tones as they recounted the finer details of their escapades, each anecdote laced with equal parts incredulity and amusement. Shiro teased him mercilessly about his bargaining with the General, while Guldrin dramatically reenacted Casey's reaction to the book, complete with a stone-faced impression.

"I still can't believe you haggled for 8.5%," Shiro said, shaking her head as she stifled a laugh.

"Hey, that's no small feat," Guldrin replied, feigning indignation. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to negotiate with someone who could probably have you "disappear" with a single phone call?"

When the faint rumble of engines broke the stillness outside, they exchanged a glance. Letty and Mia were home. The unspoken agreement passed between them in an instant: time to act natural.

As the sound of footsteps approached, Guldrin leaned casually against the counter, glass in hand, while Shiro flipped through a magazine she'd snagged from the table. By the time Letty's voice called out, they were the picture of nonchalance.

"Brats, we're home!" Letty's tone carried a mix of weariness and relief.

"Welcome back!" Guldrin called out, his voice was effortlessly cheerful. "How was it? Did you get anything good?"

Letty and Mia appeared in the doorway moments later, their eyes sweeping over the two with faint suspicion. "Yup, but you will have to wait for tomorrow to see it, can't have you peeking the night before," Letty said with a smirk.

"Quiet night?" Mia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Super quiet," Shiro replied smoothly, not looking up from the magazine.

Letty's gaze lingered on Guldrin for a moment longer, her instincts clearly whispering that something was amiss. But whatever suspicion she harbored, she let it slide, for now.

As the night wore on and the household settled into a semblance of calm, Guldrin and Shiro exchanged one last conspiratorial smile.

They'd pulled it off.

For now.

—

–

-

Back at the Castle, Chuck stood by the table, staring at the spot where Guldrin had been. "Do you think we'll ever figure them out?" he asked, half to himself.

Sarah shrugged, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Not everything's meant to be figured out, Chuck. Some people are just… different."

Casey, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke, his voice gruff but thoughtful. "They're not our problem. Not yet, anyway."

He glanced down at the book in his hand, its weight oddly comforting. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Chuck and Sarah exchanging curious glances.

"Do you think he'll actually read it?" Chuck asked, his tone skeptical.

Sarah smirked. "If anyone could get Casey to read something for more than tactical value, it's Guldrin. He may not act it, but he is highly impressed with Guldrin's abilities that he displayed today."

Chuck sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, here's hoping it doesn't come with any surprises."

Sarah chuckled softly. "With those two? Everything's a surprise."

-

–

—

Later that night, Casey sat alone in his apartment. The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of a single lamp illuminating the book in his hands. He turned the pages slowly, his eyes scanning each line with an intensity that would have surprised anyone who knew him. The story was raw, poignant, and surprisingly personal. It wasn't simply a tale of war and loss, it was a reflection of humanity, of choices made in the face of impossible odds.

For the first time in a long time, Casey found himself engrossed not in a mission report or a tactical manual, but in something profoundly… human. He closed the book after several chapters, his thumb lingering on the edge of the page.

"Interesting," he murmured again, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then, in true Casey fashion, he set the book down, picked up the knife, and started fiddling with it. After all, even sentimentality had its limits.

(Give me your POWER, Please, and Thank You! Leave reviews and comments, they motivate me to continue.)