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Chapter Text

Eric juggled the stack of tupperware containers in his hands as he felt the duffle on his shoulder start to slip. He could see the van at the other end of the parking lot, in front of the physical sciences building. If he got a bit closer, he could holler at one of his friends for help, hopefully before the strap fell farther down his arms. 

“Hey, Bits!” Ransom eventually called out, noticing him inching his way towards the vehicle. He jogged over to him. “Let me help you!” he insisted, eagerly grabbing all four containers from his hands. He held them up to his face, brow furrowed as he scrutinized what was inside each one to try and determine what was brought. He went to pry open the top container, but by this point Eric’s duffle was firmly back on his shoulder so he swatted the hand away.

“Not everything is for you!” he insisted, shaking his head as they meandered over to the van. 

“But you did make your berry crumble bars, right? That’s what really matters.”

“I don’t care what you’ve made, as long as there’s some butterscotch blondies in one of those!” Holster proclaimed as they approached. He made grabby hands towards Ransom, and his fellow D-Man made to hand the containers over. Before he could accept them, his arms were smacked away by Lardo.

When they went to protest, she simply folded her arms across her chest and glared. “You know the rules! No bakery items until we are on the road!” She turned towards Eric and offered a fist bump. “Hey, Bitty, what’s up?”

“I’m good,” he replied as he knocked his fist with hers, setting the duffle bag on the asphalt in front of the trunk. “Excited and nervous to be out in the field.”

An arm wrapped around his shoulder and he could feel a moustache against his ear. “You’re going to be fucking great, my dude!” Shitty proclaimed. “You and Lards are going to help us get so much data!”

“Yeah, as long as the forecast holds!” Holster readily agreed.

“Dude,” Ransom began, bumping his shoulder into his D-Man’s, “we’ve studied the models. The dry line is going to set up and the jet stream will do the rest. It’s not going to be a bust!” 

Eric, not liking how much his goodies were being jostled, took back the Tupperware, wrapping them protectively against his torso. He craned his neck around the side of the van, searching for their leader. “Where’s Jack? He’s all about being punctual.”

“He’s speaking with Dr. Atley, going over the plan and getting the department credit card,” Lardo replied. 

“Look, there they are now!” Shitty pointed towards the glass facade of the building, and sure enough, Jack and their professor were heading their way.

“Great! Do you think Dr. Atley will be willing to give this to the Frogs?” Eric rested his chin on the top container, which was filled with his best chocolate chip recipe. The secret was to use brown butter (which honestly isn’t really a secret as any recipe blog will gush about how it adds more flavor), along with his actual secret, a pinch of cinnamon.

Holster pouted at him. “Why can’t we have cookies?”

“The Frogs deserve something too. They are an integral part of our team, even if they are staying on campus.”

Lardo rolled her eyes at the dramatics. “I’m sure Dr. Atley will pass them along, after she takes a cookie tax for herself.”

“Oh, Eric Bittle, did you bake for me, or are you trying to bribe me again?” their professor lightheartedly asked as her and Jack exited the building.

“Actually, I made these for the Frogs,” he said as he carefully handed off the top container to her. “You can have a few before giving it to them, though. And I can bake you another cherry pie when I come back!”

Their professor waved him off with a smile. “I’m only joking with you, Eric. I will be taking a cookie or two before passing them along, however.”

“That’s fine.”

Jack clapped his hands together. “Now that we are all here, let’s get going! We have a long car ride ahead of us, and I would like to get to the hotel by 6pm so we can be well-rested for tomorrow. Who’s duffle is that?” He frowned as he pointed at the ground.

“Oh, th-that’s mine! Sorry!” Eric stammered, hoping he wasn’t blushing. “I was protecting the baked goods from these two hooligans.” He pointed towards Ransom and Holster, who wore matching sheepish grins.

“Get it in the trunk, and let’s get moving!” he ordered. 

Dr. Atley stopped them before they could disperse. “Remember that you are representing Samwell University on your trip. Follow all safety procedures, and make sure you are weather aware. I wish you the best of luck on your chase, and I hope you can capture some useful data. I will see you all in a few days.”

They all nodded and gave variations of, “Yes, Dr. Atley.” Ransom and Holster even saluted her before she turned back towards the physical science building. 

Shitty opened up the back of the van and studied the tetris game of items packed in the space. “Your bag doesn’t have anything heavy in it, right brah?”

Eric shrugged. “Only my laptop, but even that’s only about a pound.”

“Good! We can put it on top of the camera equipment without worrying about breaking anything.” Shitty picked up the bag and placed it haphazardly over a camera bag and tripod case. It sat at a jaunty angle. “Looks like the baked goods will have to sit in your lap, but just means everyone will have easy access!” He slammed the hatchback closed. “Let’s get this show on the motherfucking road!” he exclaimed, letting out a loud hoot. 

“Alright, everyone!” Jack called for the group’s attention once again. “Let’s head out. Bittle and Lardo, you’re in the third row. Ransom and Holster, you’re in the second row. Shitty, you’re up in the passenger seat with me in the front. Let’s go have a successful chase!” 

*****

Despite leaving only five minutes behind schedule, the group arrived at their hotel almost three hours later than their intended arrival. First, they were stuck in a traffic jam for over an hour in the Kansas City metro area. Once they were finally free, Jack wanted to drive straight through, but Lardo convinced him that stopping for dinner somewhere that wasn’t a 24 hour gas station or a drive-thru window was a good idea. It was better to have a restaurant cooked meal over junk food from the chip aisle or a value meal. Instead, they ended up at a Cracker Barrel where they may have spent too much time in the gift shop.

By the time they pulled into the hotel parking lot, the sky was streaked with pinks and reds, and everyone was happy to be freed from the van. Jack went inside to go grab their room keys while everyone else gathered their things and equipment from the back of the van.

When Jack returned to the group, there was a scowl on his face. 

“What’s wrong, brah?” Shitty asked. He was the first to notice how tense their leader was.

“There was an issue. The hotel overbooked, and we only have two rooms, not three.” He turned to Lardo. “I’m so sorry. I can get a cot for each room, or the five of us can stay in one room while you stay in the other. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

She shook her head and waved off his concern. “Nah, man, it’s cool. We’re all friends. Besides, we’re supposed to be on our best behavior right now since we’re representing Samwell and all. Don’t stress yourself out because of me.”

“If you’re sure…”

Lardo nodded. “Absolutely. 100% cool with this.”

“Okay then. We need to divy up the rooms. There'll be three of us in each, so two will have to share a bed, or I can get an extra cot. How do you want to split up?”

“Well, I insist on being with you, Jacky boy!” Shitty exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his best friend and kissing him wetly on the cheek.

“And we’re the Dynamic Duo! Of course we’re fine with sharing a bed!” Ransom yelled while wrangling a protesting Holster into a headlock. A father with three small children and too many bags scowled at them from across the parking lot.

“Ooh, did you see that ice cream stand a few driveways away?” Holster asked his fellow D-Man once he broke free.

A grin slowly spread across Ransom’s face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” 

“D-Man Friendship Sundae!” they shouted at the same time before breaking out their ever-changing secret best friend handshake. 

Lardo shrugged. “I can also go for some ice cream. I’ll room with them.”

Shitty nodded. “Cool. That means Bitty, and all of the bakery, will be with Jack and me. No amount of ice cream can compete with whatever magic he bakes with.”

Jack handed out room cards to Lardo, Ransom, and Shitty before facing Eric. “Uh, the receptionist at the front desk only gave me two cards. I can get another one from her unless you want to share.”

Eric waved off his concern and prayed that his voice sounded casual. “It should be fine. I don’t plan on going anywhere without the group.” Yes, that was a completely normal response. He hoisted his duffle bag up onto his shoulder. “What else do you want me to take into our room?”

Once everyone gathered their things and divided up the other supplies in the van, they all trooped inside the hotel. It wasn’t fancy, the same beige walls and weird, dynamic paintings that could be found at any budget Marriott or Hilton. Luckily, both rooms were on the first floor, situated across from one another. Jack stopped the group before they could head into their respective rooms.

“You’re all adults, so I know I can’t give you an actual curfew. All I ask is that you be back in your room by 10:30 and you go to bed at a reasonable hour. We have a long day tomorrow. And remember that we are representing the Samwell Meteorological Haus. Make our department proud.”

“Don’t worry, Jack. I’ll make sure these two,” Lardo pointed at the D-Men, “don’t end up in a sugar coma.”

Their leader gave a sharp nod. “Great. Breakfast is served until 8:30. I expect to see everyone there by 8:00. Once it clears out enough, we can take over a few tables and work on our game plan for the day. Dr. Atley said that the Frogs should be ready to help facilitate things at 11:00.” Jack made a quick scan of the group, meeting everyone’s eyes briefly. “Any questions?”

“Nah, brah, I think you covered everything.” Shitty clapped his hand on Jack’s back. “Let’s head into our room so I can eat some more butterscotch blondies!”

“Hey, Bitty made those for me!” Holster protested.

“If you wanted the baked goods, you should’ve claimed Bitty for your own room. You snooze, you lose.” Shitty went as far as to stick his tongue out in a very childish manner.

“Okay, y’all, everyone calm down,” Eric said. If he wasn’t holding onto the tupperware containers for dear life, he would’ve held his hands out in a placating gesture. “First of all, these goods are for everyone, not a specific person. Second of all, I made more than enough bakery to last us until we get back to Samwell. Third, I will personally make sure that Shitty doesn’t eat the rest of the blondies.” He turned towards his mustached friend. “And you will get sick if you try to eat all of these.” He held up the boxes. “So don’t even bother.”

“Alright everyone, let’s go. We’re blocking the hallway.” Sure enough, the same father from the parking lot was heading their way with the kids and luggage in tow. Jack stepped up to Room 111 and inserted the card before opening the door. He held the door open while Shitty entered, followed by Eric. 

“You don’t mind if I take the closer bed, do you brah?” Shitty asked as he tossed his backpack and other bags onto the bed.

“No, that’s fine,” Jack replied, walking around Eric, who was placing the tupperware onto what could graciously be called a desk, but seemed more like a small table instead. “Personal bags can stay out here in the main area, but everything that we need for tomorrow can go in the closet for now. This place is small, and we can’t afford for things to become overly cluttered. 

“Aye, aye, captain!” Shitty responded before picking up the two bags filled with monitors and sensory equipment and placing them gently on the floor of the closet. Eric followed suit with the tripod and camera cases he brought in from the car. 

“Hey, Bits, do you mind sharing with me?” Shitty asked as he flopped down onto his chosen bed and dragged his backpack toward him. 

“What?” Eric asked, forcing himself to look away from where Jack was unpacking his toiletries. “Ah, yeah, that’s fine.”

“‘Sawesome, brah! That means I have to get my Zimmermann cuddles in now!”

“Shits, you’re going to have to wait a bit!” Jack protested, holding his hand out in front of him to prevent his best friend from launching himself at him. “Let me at least unpack. I also need to call Dr. Atley and check in.”

Shitty nodded while lowering himself back onto the bed. “What about you, Bitty? Do you want to cuddle?” He held his arms out wide, as if he expected Eric to leap into his arms at the invitation.

“Uh, actually, I plan on working on some homework. I have a physics set that’s due on Monday, and I don’t want to do it once we get back.”

“Yeah, it’s cool. I completely understand.” Shitty responded as Eric took out his laptop, calculator, pencil, and notebook, and set them onto the desk. “If you need any help, feel free to holler at me, or Jack once he gets back.”

“Thanks, I will.” He turned on his laptop and dug around his duffle for his earbuds. 

The last thing he heard before blasting Beyonce in his ears was Shitty saying, “We’ll have plenty of time for cuddles later.”

Chapter Text

Eric decidedly wished that he had let Jack and Shitty share a bed. While he knew that his mustachioed friend enjoyed platonic intimacy when stoned, he was apparently just as much of a grabby octopus in his sleep. When they went to sleep, they were both on opposite sides of the bed. During the night, however, Shitty had migrated onto Eric’s side, and had encased him in his embrace. Each time Eric scooted away to try and create some distance between them, Shitty would unconsciously readjust to close the gap. Now, there was nowhere left to go unless he wanted to wake everyone up by crashing onto the floor between the two beds. 

Since he couldn’t sleep, he decided to do the next best thing: aimlessly scroll Twitter. According to his phone screen, it was 2:53 in the morning. Only a few more hours and then he could pretend to wake up with the first rays of sun. His plans to doom scroll social media, however, were placed on hold when a terse, “Bittle?” came from the end of his bed.

Eric glanced away from his phone screen. He had turned the brightness down to its lowest level. In the inky depths of the early morning, its glow was still starkly visible. “What?” he whispered.

“Why are you on your phone when you should be sleeping?”

“I could ask you the same thing!”

“I’m getting a glass of water from the bathroom.” He could just make out Jack shifting, probably folding his arms across his chest in disappointment. “Your turn.”

“I can’t sleep! It feels like Shitty is suffocating me. I can’t escape him.”

“Calisse,” Jack muttered into the dark. The silence stretched between them for a few seconds before he let out a long sigh. “C’mon, get up.”

“Uh… I don’t think I can. Whenever I move, he follows. And I’m about to end up on the floor.”

“Get your legs freed first. Set them on the floor. Then, quickly slip into a crouch. He won’t notice a thing.” He eagerly followed the instructions, and was free within 30 seconds. “Here,” Jack said, nudging him with something large and plush. A pillow. “Place it where you just were.” 

Eric grabbed the pillow as he stood up and put it down where his torso was a minute before. Shitty immediately grabbed it and nuzzled it in his sleep. “I take it you’re used to this.”

“Yeah, I learned pretty early in my first year at Samwell how to deal with a sleepy Shitty.” There was a hint of fondness in his voice. Eric was surprised, seeing as he never heard Jack so vulnerable before. Any trace of it was gone in his next sentence. “Now, time to go back to bed. Don’t make me have to confiscate your phone.”

“Where?” Eric dumbly asked.

“In my bed,” he bluntly replied. “I promise to remain on my side of the bed. Or, if you don’t want to share, I can bunk with Shitty.”

“No, no sharing with you is fine! I don’t want to kick you from your bed.”

“Are you sure, Bittle? I won’t be mad or annoyed.”

“Yes, I am.” He threw back the covers on the side closest to Shitty and slid in. “See, all good.”

There was no response. Eric heard the sink turn on, and a cup being filled. He spent the 30 seconds he had alone in bed trying to get his heart to stop beating so fast. This was purely platonic. Jack offered his bed out of the kindness of his heart. Well, it wasn’t due to that, but because being sleep deprived meant he could seriously mess up the chase tomorrow. Jack slid in on the other side without a word, and soon was breathing the deep, easy breaths of sleep. Eric spent a bit longer, but eventually he, too, fell asleep.

He awoke due to a jostling on the other side of the bed. He opened his eyes, and the room was lit by the gray pre-dawn light. “Wha’ time issit?”

“Shh… Bittle, you can go back to sleep.”

“...Okay.” And so he did.

Eric woke up for good to the sound of the key card opening the door. He reached blindly for his phone and was confused when all he felt was more mattress instead of the bedside table. Opening up his eyes, he realized it was because he was sleeping in Jack’s bed. How his brain let him forget, he’ll never know. Rolling over, he saw Shitty was still sleeping, one arm dangling over the side of the bed. And there was their fearless leader walking into the room, hair pushed back from his slightly flushed face. 

“Have a good run?” he asked, sitting up and reaching for his phone. 6:52am. 

“Yeah. Ran four miles on the treadmill. I also lifted some weights.” Jack placed a foot onto the desk chair and actually untied his offensive yellow tennis shoes instead of just kicking them off like a normal person.

“Oh, that’s nice.” Eric tried very hard to not picture now his arms looked doing bicep curls. It wasn’t working and he needed to get out of the room before he said something ridiculous. “Um… do you mind if I use the bathroom before you take a shower?”

“Yes, that’s fine. I have to wake Shitty up anyways.”

With Jack’s blessing, he scampered off into the bathroom.

*****

Eric arrived for breakfast with only a few minutes to spare. While Jack was in the shower earlier, Shitty had apologized profusely to him for overstepping his boundaries, despite Eric insisting that it was done unconsciously and he didn’t blame him for taking over the bed last night. After that, his friend called dibs on the next shower, and spent the next half hour in the bathroom. Once he finally reappeared, it turned out that most of the time wasn’t spent on mustache maintenance like Eric originally suspected, but from him trying to do something different with his flow because, “a bun is much more likely to fall out during a chase, brah!”

Shitty’s failed attempts at an updo aside, this meant that Eric had very little time to deal with his own hair after he showered. It was fine while it was still wet, but as it dried, it started to poof up a bit. He was chirped about it as soon as he sat down at the table. 

“Oh my god, it looks so fluffy!” Holster went to lay a hand on his head, his own waffle forgotten. 

Eric waved an arm to block the touch. “If any of you try to touch my hair when it’s like this, I will ban you from baked goods through the end of the month. And anyone who helps you get baked goods will also be banned.”

Gasps went out around the table. “You wouldn’t dare!” Ransom insisted. “Finals are coming up soon.”

Eric turned towards the other D-Man. “Try me,” he deadpanned as he added cream to his coffee.

Lardo rolled her eyes. “Guys, you should ask before touching someone else. Does Shitty need to go over his consent PowerPoint again?” Shitty perked up next to her at the mention of giving a lecture.

“Yeah, I will totes give one if Jack thinks we need one.”

“Also, you should know by now that Bitty doesn’t function until he’s had his coffee. You can’t ask him anything before then.” Lardo gave him a wicked grin. “That being said, how did you manage to turn 12 overnight? There’s plenty of middle-aged celebrities who would love to know your secret to reverse aging.”

He inwardly groaned. Apparently the one sip of coffee he drank was enough to be considered awake. “I guess sleeping next to a robot helps fight free radicals or something?” Eric replied with a shrug.

Shitty whipped around to his best friend. “Jack, is this true? Is this why your mom insists you spend so much time with her when you visit? I hear you love to nap on the couch when you’re home. Is this so you can help rejuvenate her while she watches reality TV?”

“First of all, Maman doesn’t make me do anything. I like spending time with her and I know she misses me while I’m away. Secondly, I sleep on the couch because it’s a comfy couch. And it’s extra long so I don’t have to scrunch up on it like the green one at the Haus. Third of all, I think she gets a lot of facials or something? And she has a very extensive skincare routine. Finally, Maman isn’t old and she always looks beautiful.”

“Aww, spoken like a true Momma’s Boy.” Shitty thumped him on the back. “But you’re right, your mom has always been gorgeous.” He turned to address the rest of the table. “You know, I absolutely loved Mrs. Zimmermann in Chasing Sunset when I was a kid.”

Lardo cut him off. “Yes, we’ve all heard this story before.” She gave a pointed look towards Jack, who was staring into the eggs and bacon on his plate as if it could turn into a food monster and swallow him up.

Shitty nodded. “Yeah, you’re right, brah.” He rose from his chair. “Does anyone else want another waffle before they take down the breakfast bar?” Holster and Ransom raised their hands. “‘Swawesome. I’ll go make some for us.”

“Hey,” Lardo nudged Jack, “he didn’t mean anything by it. You know how much Shitty loves your mom. Sometimes he forgets that your parents are famous, is all. You know we all view them as Bad Bob and Alicia, not Quebec’s Weatherman and an A-list actress/former model. Right?”

Jack nodded into his plate before catching Eric’s eye and grinning. “Well, one of us refers to them as Mr. Jack’s Dad and Mrs. Zimmermann, respectively.”

“That was one time!” Eric insisted. “I was flustered and it was an accident!”

There was mirth in his blue eyes. “Trust me, he loved being recognized as my dad before anything else.”

“Your Southern hospitality may just be the death of you one day!” Ransom chimed in.

“As if your Canadian politeness has never once gotten you into funny situations?” Holster replied, one eyebrow raised knowingly.

“For the last time, I didn’t know it was a date!”

Lardo leaned across the table, eager for details. “Is this about Shelby again?”

“No, it’s about Theresa.” He nudged Ransom. “I can’t believe you told her about Shelby but not her!”

“ I didn’t tell her anything! Did you say something?”

Lardo smirked. “No, I’m just really good at finding out shit.”

“What she means,” Eric began, taking a sip of coffee to make sure he had everyone’s attention before continuing, “is she spends a lot of time in the art building. That’s where all the gossips are. Well, there and the Conservatory. That’s how she knows everything.”

She dramatically clutched her chest. “How dare you give away my trade secrets?”

He shrugged and took another sip of coffee. “It’s not my fault that they forget that you’re also a Photography major and thus spend half your time there.”

“Well, Bits, you never did explain why your hair is so fluffy this morning? Tell me, are you starting a new fashion trend I don’t know about?”

“If you must know,” Eric began with a roll of his eyes, “this is Shitty’s fault. He hogged up the bathroom this morning trying to do his hair differently this morning. I only had 10 minutes to get ready or face Jack’s wrath.”

“I knew that you were up, which is what really matters. Besides, I would’ve grabbed you some bacon and eggs from the hot food bar,” was Jack’s sheepish response. “You’ll have to eat more protein if you want to have any stamina while running around outside doing live weather reports with a foot of snow.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m moving farther north once I graduate, Mr. Zimmermann. Samwell’s already much too cold for me.”

“But it hardly ever gets below 0F,” he replied with a pout.

Eric pointed his fork accusingly. “You damn Canadians and your insistence that single degree temperatures mean a sweater and hat. Every single normal person knows to bundle up, but you and Ransom insist that it’s simply mild outside. You can chirp me all you want, but I plan on getting a job in sunny, warm California.”

“What is this about California?” Shitty asked, returning with a stack of freshly made waffles piled onto a plate. “Bitty, you’re not going back with Chowder at the end of the semester, are you? I can’t let him turn you into a Sharks fan,” he said in mock horror before placing the plate onto the table. Ransom and Holster immediately both grabbed a waffle.

“No, nothing like that. Jack was chirping at me for my cold intolerance and I told him I was moving somewhere warm.”

“As long as you’re not leaving yet.”

“I heard that you were having hair troubles this morning?” Lardo asked as he sat back down next to her. 

He nodded sagely. “My usual bun won’t hold the flow back while we chase. I was trying to do something different, but couldn’t get it to work.”

“I can braid it for you, if you’d like. I have some hair ties in my room. When we come back to make our plans, I’ll bring them and you bring your brush. How does that sound?”

“‘Swawesome, brah! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before!”

Eric wanted to lament his own hair being ruined, but held his tongue. The last thing he needed was another round of chirps before he finished his coffee.

Chapter Text

After breakfast, they all returned to their respective rooms to wind down a bit before they had their team meeting and contacted the Frogs. Well, Jack expected them to work on schoolwork, recheck the weather forecast for the day, and gather up the equipment they were taking out into the field later. In their own room, that’s what Jack did. Shitty half-heartedly worked on a paper on the Loop Current, based on the comments he made every few minutes. And Eric worked on fixing his hair. He had to rewet it before adding mousse and gel. As he stared at himself in the mirror, comb carefully smoothing everything down, he resolved to get a haircut within the next week. When it was shorter on the sides, it looked okay without having to place a bunch of products in his hair. 

15 minutes before they were meant to check-in with the Frogs, Jack roused them and directed them to return to the breakfast area to work. Apparently he requested use of the hotel’s business center for this meeting when he went to breakfast, but the concierge said it was already booked. Shitty went ahead to stake a claim at the cluster of tables that were located near two outlets, leaving Jack and Eric to carry everything.

It really wasn’t that many things. Eric carried his laptop in its case, along with a notebook and pencil for taking notes. He also had a backpack with one of the cameras and tripods; the other was with Lardo. Jack had a few slim bags that held a few laptops, a tablet, along with his own backpack. 

“The most important thing is to pay attention to the clouds in the sky. I know we all want to see a tornado. It’s a rare event and clouds aren’t supposed to touch the ground. But you can’t get so caught up that you lose situational awareness. Pay attention to storm movement and the bear’s cage,” Jack insisted as they walked down the hall.

“I know where anticyclonic tornadoes form. You don’t have to go over that too.” Eric barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I’m just worried. I know this is your first time out in the field.”

“I promise I won’t screw things up for you. I will follow any and all instructions you give me.”

Jack broke out a rare smile. “Thanks for trusting me… even after…”

Eric waved his hand in dismissal. “That’s all water under the bridge. Scout’s Honor.” He crossed his fingers. “Wait, do you even have Boy Scouts in Canada?”

“Please don’t ask that in front of Ransom. He’ll go into great detail about his specialized Rover group and how one earns every single badge in the Emergency Skills set. It’s how he earned an Emergency Management certificate that’s valid in Ontario.”

“But that sounds really cool!”

“Feel free ask him after today. Just don’t wait too long once we get back to campus. Finals are coming up and he’ll soon enter coral reef mode.”

Eric winced, remembering how he found Ransom curled up underneath a table in the library the weekend before finals last fall. He was muttering physics formulas under his breath and didn’t acknowledge Eric at all. Just when he was about to call Holster to come help, he appeared. He managed to reach his fellow D-Man where Eric couldn’t, and he quickly left to do his own studying on a different floor of the library.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he promised as they passed the front desk. 

“Hey, Zimmermann!” a jovial voice called from near the automatic doors.

“Hey, Troy,” Jack responded without a thought before he stopped and turned around, almost causing Eric to crash into him. “Jeff?” A tall man with brown hair and dark brown eyes made his way over to them. Despite his hoodie and snapback ensemble, he still managed to scream ‘southern frat boy.’

“Long time, no see, huh! How are you doing, man?” Jeff offered Jack a fist bump, but lowered it when it wasn’t reciprocated. “And who’s this?” he asked peering around to study Eric.

He stuck out a hand to shake, his southern hospitality automatically kicking in. “I’m Eric Bittle.” Jack stood motionless next to him. “We’re going to go chasing later. Hoping to see a tornado and take some video for research purposes.”

“Really? I didn’t know you still did that, Zimmermann.”

“It’s for something one of our professors is working on,” he replied in a subdued voice.

“Oh yeah, you’re graduating next month, aren’t you?”

“Did Kenny tell you that?”

Jeff opened his mouth to respond when a new voice called out, “Swoops, where am I supposed to put all of this?”

A guy around Eric’s age held way too many bags and was slowly making his way towards them.

“Scraps, you didn’t have to carry everything at once,” Jeff insisted. 

“I’m not about to lose a fucking bet,” he replied, pausing to adjust a backpack strap that fell down his arm.

“Colin at the front desk said that the business center is that way.” Jeff pointed towards the hallway at the opposite side of the lobby before redirecting his attention back to them. “I gotta help him before he accidentally breaks a camera again.” He held out his fist. “It was nice seeing you again, Jack.”

This time, Jack bumped it. “Yeah, you too.”

Jeff waved at Eric before scurrying across the lobby to help Scraps out.

“So, who is this Jeff person?” Eric asked once he was sure the two other men couldn’t hear him.

“We used to go to school together.” Jack swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before continuing. “At OU. We were in the same year.” Until I left went unsaid, hovering in the air between them.

Eric reached out and hesitantly placed a hand on his bicep. “You don’t have to tell me anymore if you don’t want to. I understand.” He would probably feel the same if he ever saw someone from his high school’s football team unexpectedly in public.

Jack shook his head. “No, Jeff’s ‘pretty chill,’ if I were to quote Nursey. It’s just that he works with Kent.”

Speak of the devil and so he appeared, entering through the automatic doors at the other end of the lobby. “Hi Zimms. What a coincidence to see you here!” Kent sauntered over to them, not bothering to remove his sunglasses despite being indoors. “How have you been?” he asked with a grin.

Eric had to fight to keep a grimace off of his face. He remembered the aftermath of Kent’s last surprise drop-in, and it wasn’t pretty. He’d never seen Jack so closed off or scared.

“I’m fine, Parse,” Jack tersely responded. The grip on his bags tightened, knuckles turning white.

Kent nodded before taking off his Tornado Aces-branded floral snapback, turning it around so the logo of a tornado on a playing card tearing off the As in the corners was on the back of his head. He kept the sunglasses on, however. Eric couldn’t help but wonder if he was hungover. “Are you ready to chase today?”

“My team is about to come up with a gameplan.”

“Would you like to join us? There’s plenty of room in the conference room. The more the merrier!”

“We’re doing research for Samwell University. We’re not here to provide entertainment for your thousands of followers.” His tone left no room for arguments. It reminded Eric of when Jack was his TA his freshman year and told him he would fail out of the program if he didn’t work harder. Before he offered to tutor him.

“Actually, the channel hit one million subscribers last month.”

Jack’s face was a block of ice. Eric was sure his own looked like he swallowed a lemon. His baking vlog only averaged a few thousand views a video, despite him running it for the past six years. Meanwhile, people like Kent Parson and his Tornado Aces channel had a million subscribers and hundreds of thousands of views per video. Direct proof that danger sells better than tri-county fair blue ribbon pie recipes. 

Just when the silence tipped towards more rude than surprised, Jack finally offered a short “Congrats.”

Kent grinned. “Thanks, man.” He slapped Jack good-naturedly on the shoulder. “I gotta get going, but I wanted you to know that my offer still stands. I’ll see you around.” Without a wave, he went off in the same direction Jeff and Scraps headed in.

As soon as Eric was sure Parson couldn’t hear them, he turned towards Jack so they were standing face to face. He made grabby hands. “Give me the bags.”

“What?” Jack asked, redirecting his attention from where Parson disappeared back to Eric.

“Give me the equipment and head back to the room. Take a few minutes to breathe before joining us.” He leaned in closer and dropped his voice. “I know that seeing him is a shock to the system. I can also send Shitty your way if you’d like.”

Jack handed over the bags before rubbing his hand tiredly across his face. “If I’m not back in 20 minutes, please send Shitty to our room.”

“Aye, aye, Captain! I’d salute you, but I don’t really care to move these around too much.” He nodded his chin at the extra bags in his hands.

Jack cracked the barest hint of a smile. “Thanks, Bittle.”

“It’s really no problem.” Eric hoped that his cheeks weren’t betraying him. “We’re a team, and I’ve got your back.”

“Just… thanks.”

“It’s no trouble! Now, shoo, Mr. Zimmermann before the others come looking for you. I’ll tell them you have a call you have to take but you’ll be joining us soon.” Jack nodded and headed back towards their room. If Eric stood in the lobby until he could no longer see him to watch his fine behind, well, no one else had to know.

When he arrived at the tables, Ransom and Holster were in the middle of adding another element to their already complicated friendship handshake. And Lardo stood behind a seated Shitty, French braiding his hair back for him. 

“Hey, y’all, Jack had to take a phone call, but he’ll be here soon,” Eric told the group as he added his bags to the only portion of the table that was still free. 

Lardo grinned. “You know what that means?”

“That we should set up the computers and call the Frogs without him?”

“Well we should do that, but that’s not what I was referring to.” She leaned over Shitty’s shoulder. “I think it’s time.”

“For braided space buns?”

Lardo was already undoing the braid. “Chyeah, bruh.”

“Fuck yeah!” Shitty exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air. “I’m going to look so flawlessly ‘swawsome.”

“Where are you sitting, Lardo?” Eric asked as he dug out his camera bag.

“Across from Ransom and Holster. Shits, stop moving!”

He unpacked the camera and turned it on, double checking that everything was working. Once he’s satisfied, he set it on the table and powered it off. He then reached for the tripod and worked on attaching the camera. According to the diagram, it should slide into the mount and lock in place. In practice, it didn’t want to stay. Whenever he thought it was situated, it popped back out before he could move it. Eventually, Lardo realized his struggle and troubleshooted for him.

“You gotta turn the camera slightly towards the left and then tilt the camera upwards as you slide it into place,” she told him as she tied off the end of Shitty’s first braid.  “Only lower the camera once it's fully seated in the locking mechanism. Then it shouldn’t move.”

Eric followed her instructions. It took a few tries, but he eventually found the correct angle. Once he figured that out, the rest of it was quite easy. He put the camera, still attached to the tripod, gently onto the table. “Is the other one as difficult as this one?”

Shitty shook his head, earning a gentle whack from Lardo, who was working on his second braid. “Nah, brah. Only one of the tripods causes issues. Johnson once went on a very long extended metaphor comparing the two tripods to the surface level of a body of work compared to the subtext, and how a reader can interpret what the author is making us do very differently that why we think we are making our own actions.”

“Does Johnson believe in a higher power or was he being literal about an author?”

“Who knows! It was very deep and illuminating though.”

“What it did was cause Ransom to have an existential crisis. He was in Coral Reef mode in the middle of a chase!” Holster angrily proclaimed.

“Where he was perfectly safe because you were both on Samwell’s campus, brah,” Shitty causally commented from the other end of the table.

Ransom reassured his fellow D-man. “Dr. Atley did have a discussion with Johnson afterwards about sticking to relevant topics while in an active tornado chase. He stopped talking about our narrative purpose in the story for a whole three weeks after that!”

“I wonder what Johnson’s up to now?”

“Is he still hiking the Appalachian Trail?”

“I’m pretty sure he finished that last month.”

“Did he email you about it because I don’t remember getting one.”

Lardo cut in, ending Ransom and Holster’s musings. “He’s working for the U.S. Department of Forestry in Oregon mitigating the risk for wildfires.” She nodded towards the pile of technology. “We should set all of this up before Jack gets here so it looks like we weren’t goofing off.”

Eric reached for the laptop bag closest to him, but the glare that Lardo sent him stopped him. “Let the D-Men take care of it instead.”

“Why can’t Bitty help? He’s the closest thing we have to a Frog with us!”

“He’s on videography, and Bits already fought the camera for me. You two are in charge of tracking the storms, which means the laptops are your domain.” She smiled sweetly at them, but there was a sharpness to her grin.

“You have them so well trained,” Eric told her as Ransom and Holster played rock, paper, scissors, to determine who had to go underneath the table and find the sockets for all their laptop plugs. 

Lardo shrugged as she began creating the first bun on the top of Shitty’s head. “It’s a gift.”