What a wild ride it had been. A wild ride from the first moment they met to their most recent heist which was one of the biggest the duo had pulled off. Dorado, the bank vault, blown to pieces thanks to Junkrat’s obsession with explosions and the two had made off with quite a large sum of gold bars that would sell for millions on the black market that the two were very well acquainted with.
Now here they were in Rio, hiding out in the top end part of town thanks to their earnings. No doubt within a few days their faces would be plastered all over the place, if not already, not that it mattered. It was late in the evening, the wind was warm, and reminded Roadhog of home. Only without the extreme levels of radiation and mutated kangaroos and cockroaches.
But there was going to be a Big Thing on tonight. Well, not for people in general but for the two Junkers who’d made a name for themselves roaming the world together causing destruction and mayhem in their wake. And why? To remind the world that Australia was still valid, that what had happened had happened and while the rest of the world sat on their wreaths doing nothing, no aid not even their own government.
Such things normally consumed Roadhog’s mind. They used to. Spreading violence, giving the pain they felt to the rest of the world by means of personal injury and crimes. However, over the past few years something human had been trickling back into their mind.
What an alien concept it was, as it had slowly returned. How it came to be that one Jamison Fawkes had broken through the huge emotional walls Roadhog had put up would be a mystery to most. Then again, he was a demolition expert wasn’t he. Who else could break through such a massive wall but him? With his bright (though unfocused) eyes, crazed laughter, perchance of explosions, but could be equally soft and sensitive when the time called for it.
They’d fallen hook, line and sinker.
And to their shock, Junkrat had felt the same. What had begun as a boss/bodyguard profession had become something far more intimate though one could hardly tell by looking at how they acted around one another. They were still themselves. Still loud, crude, rude, downright slobbish sometimes but they would, and had, kill for each other. They just kept their ‘kissy’ business to happening behind closed doors where it belonged.
Considering they spent a lot of their time out of the sights of most people, the kissy business tended to happen a lot not that Roadhog would complain. Having someone finding something like them attractive, even being called down right sexy, was a huge boost to ones already fairly big ego.
But now with their latest crime spree coming to a close, Roadhog felt as though it was time to act on something. A thing people in the fancy world took for granted. In Junker Town you’d be hard pressed to find someone who wouldn’t sell you for a six pack of Fosters, least of all someone to spend the rest of your life with yet Roadhog had found Junkrat, and vice versa.
So it was time to make it official and when they’d had a moment to spare Roadhog had gotten a hold of a fairly fancy looking ring. Okay, they’d stolen it. Pure a simple. It had a rock the size of a kidney stone they’d once passed and that was pretty huge, and it was very shiny; something they knew Junkrat appreciated.
So now all they had to do was ask.
