Guldrin’s Gluttony: Family Bound by Speed & Food

Guldrin nudged the workshop door open cautiously, the hinges letting out a faint squeak that served as an unintentional announcement. Inside, the scene was nothing short of organized chaos. 

Revy was sprawled across his workbench, surrounded by a mind-boggling array of disassembled firearms and assorted parts. 

Her laughter filled the room, gleeful and unrestrained, as she rolled around in her self-made mechanical playground like a child basking in her Halloween candy paradise.

To the untrained eye, the space looked like a crime scene where machines had met a particularly gruesome end. But Guldrin knew better. 

There was a method to Revy's madness. Every part was meticulously arranged, not neatly, but with purpose. 

Springs coiled into neat little circles, barrels leaned precariously on one another, and triggers were grouped in a pile that somehow screamed "genius at work" instead of "disaster waiting to happen."

"Look who finally decided to grace my… Temple of firepower?" Revy drawled without looking up, her voice carrying an air of smug amusement. 

She was inspecting a slide assembly, holding it up to the fluorescent light like a jeweler appraising a rare diamond. "What do you want, kid? Did you finally realize you need to admire a master at work? Or did you come bearing tribute? I better smell food. And booze. Lots of booze."

Guldrin held back a laugh as he stepped inside, holding up a plate of stir-fry and a bottle of private-stock whiskey. "Of course, I brought food and booze. I know better than to face you empty-handed after locking you in here… But seriously, Revy, what have you done to my workshop? Every single one of my guns is out of its designated spot, and now they're, well… this!" He gestured vaguely to the mechanical carnage before him.

Revy practically sprang to life, her energy contagious as she snatched the food container out of Guldrin's hands with the precision of a hawk snatching its prey. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of delight and mischief, and she wasted no time inhaling the aroma, her exaggerated theatrics making her seem larger than life. "Finally!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with mock despair. "Someone in this madhouse who understands basic survival instincts! Food first, everything else can wait. And booze! You brought booze, right? Don't tell me you forgot the booze! Fuck ya, RUM!"

She snatched the bottle, drank a mouthful, flipped the food lid open with a flourish, diving into the stir-fry like it was the first meal she'd had in days. 

Her voracious appetite was something to behold, she attacked the food with such gusto it was both alarming and impressive. Between mouthfuls, she mumbled something unintelligible, probably a compliment to the food, though it sounded more like, "Shho goood... moar!"

Guldrin leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, surveying the state of his workshop. Chaos didn't begin to describe it. Every surface was littered with disassembled firearms, spare parts, and tools scattered haphazardly. 

Even the ceiling had smudges of what looked like grease or gunpowder residue. He let out a long sigh, shaking his head. "You've really outdone yourself, Big Sis…" He tilted his head curiously, "Calling you that still feels weird. But seriously, this place is a mess of a disaster."

"Mess?" Revy shot back, feigning offense with such over-the-top drama it could have earned her an award. 

She gestured grandly to the chaotic array around her. 

"This isn't a mess, kid. This is art. Do you have any idea what kind of treasures you've been sitting on? These babies were just crying out for a glow-up. And don't even get me started on your Mk. 23. All these babies have been neglected and left stock for too long, It was a travesty."

She reached behind her and grabbed the pistol from the workbench, brandishing it like a trophy. The once-minimalist handgun now sported a suppressor, a custom sight, and engravings so elaborate they could have been commissioned by a medieval knight. 

Flames and skulls danced along the slide in a pattern so intricate it was almost hypnotic. "Yeah, yeah, I saw the little sign that said, 'Don't touch: Guldrin's Gun.' But let's be honest, that's a warning for someone who cares. And I care, kid. I care enough to take this boring old piece of steel and make it something worth showing off."

Guldrin raised an eyebrow as he took the modified pistol from her hands. He tested the slide, feeling the smoothness of her adjustments. "You know, I was kind of attached to the stock design," he said, his tone neutral but teasing. "This… artistic upgrade is a bit much for me. It's like you turned my stealth tool into a Vegas showpiece."

Revy smirked, unabashed. "Vegas showpiece? Please. This baby is functionality and flair rolled into one. It's got everything you need to make a statement, and trust me, sometimes you need to make a statement. Besides, I've fine-tuned it to fire those super rounds I found that you've been hoarding. Try it out. You'll be begging me to touch your guns after this, maybe touch you as well..." She licked her lips, making Guldrin shudder,

"I don't know whether to be impressed or horrified," he admitted, testing the slide with a smooth pull. "Revy, I liked this gun. It was clean, functional, and subtle. This... this is loud in every sense of the word."

Revy scoffed, pausing between bites to shoot him a pointed look. "Once you take it for a spin, you're gonna thank me. And don't worry, I tuned it to perfection. It's balanced like a dream. You're welcome."

Before Guldrin could respond, the sound of footsteps signaled Alisa's arrival. She stepped into the workshop with her arms crossed, her gaze sweeping over the room with the intensity of someone taking inventory of a battlefield. 

Her expression was a perfect mix of exasperation and resignation, as though she'd just walked into a scene she'd predicted but still couldn't believe.

"Revy," Alisa snapped, her voice cutting through the din like a blade. "There's grease, on the ceiling. The ceiling! Do you have any idea how hard that is to clean?"

Revy's head tilted back, her sharp laughter echoing through the chaotic workshop. 

A mouthful of stir-fry nearly became a choking hazard, but she recovered with a theatrical wave of her fork. "That's not grease, sweetheart," she shot back, her smirk growing. "That's gunpowder residue. Well... maybe grease, too. Who's keeping track? Either way, it's not a mess; it's ambiance. Adds character to the place. And if you've got a problem with it..." She trailed off, leaning back against the cluttered bench with an exaggerated air of nonchalance. "You're the battle-maid around here. Grab a mop."

Alisa's usually calm expression hardened into an icy glare, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits. For a moment, the room felt like a powder keg ready to ignite. 

The tension hung heavy, the quiet hum of machinery doing little to diffuse the standoff.

Guldrin, wisely recognizing the storm brewing, edged away from the verbal sparring match. 

As much as he enjoyed watching Revy stir up trouble, he had no interest in getting caught in the crossfire, especially when Alisa's "maid skills" were just as deadly as her actual combat capabilities.

Guldrin carefully navigated the labyrinth of weapon parts, loose tools, and half-finished gadgets strewn across the workshop floor. 

The place was a chaotic symphony of mechanical genius and outright neglect, with every square inch of space crammed with either brilliant innovation or complete and utter nonsense. It was a war zone. A battlefield where creativity and destruction seemed to have reached an uneasy truce.

His workbench, miraculously, had escaped the worst of the mess. It stood like a lone island amidst the chaos, relatively organized with a neat row of tools, a few blueprints pinned underneath a paperweight shaped like a grenade, and several smaller gadgets in various stages of completion. 

He approached it with the reverence of a soldier returning to base camp.

Setting down the half-assembled surveillance bugs, Guldrin exhaled and reached for his tools. His movements were practiced and deliberate, each adjustment calculated as he focused on his latest project. 

Despite the mayhem around him, and the constant background chatter between Revy and Alisa, this was his sanctuary.

From the corner of his eye, he caught the faint glint of silver, and his attention shifted to a necklace lying on the edge of the workbench. 

He picked it up, turning it over in his fingers. 

It was an elegant piece, a silver chain with a pendant shaped like a black all-seeing eye. It was something he'd been tinkering with for weeks, a personal project that was equal parts tech experiment and symbolic gesture.

The necklace pendant housed a discreet microcamera, its lens seamlessly integrated into the eye's design. It could transmit footage, record audio, and even pick up electromagnetic signals. A masterpiece of subtle surveillance, cloaked in artistry.

Guldrin smirked to himself as he set it aside and reached for another device, a smartwatch. He powered it on, watching as the sleek screen blinked to life, and began configuring its features. The watch was more than it appeared. It could track vitals, monitor movements, record conversations, and even sync with the necklace for enhanced functionality.

Letty's face flickered in his mind as he worked. This wasn't just tech for the sake of being techy, No, these were gifts. Well, mostly gifts.

The smirk on his face deepened. 

Of course, he wasn't about to tell Letty about the full extent of the capabilities. 

She'd think it was overkill, or worse, accuse him of being paranoid. 

But Guldrin liked to think of it as being prepared. It was his way of keeping her safe, of staying one step ahead in a world that never stopped throwing curveballs.

"These are gifts," he muttered to himself under his breath. "Totally gifts. Thoughtful, practical gifts."

And if she didn't like them? Well, that's where Plan C came into play. But, let's face it, he will use all the plans. Better chances of success.

Plan C was simple, efficient, and impossible to detect. It was a small, inconspicuous bug disguised as a sticker, but housed a low function EMP. He held it up, inspecting the tiny device between his fingers. It was no larger than a dime, its matte surface featuring an innocuous design that wouldn't raise any eyebrows. This little marvel could attach to just about anything and stay operational for months without detection.

The zipper.

His thoughts turned toward the jacket Letty practically lived in, the one she never seemed to take off no matter the weather or occasion. The zipper was perfect, always with her, always moving, always within range. 

'Now, I just need to remove the leather cover on the zipper tab, wrap the sticker around it, and slide the cover back. And presto, a hidden bug Mom will never find.'

Guldrin leaned back in his chair, spinning the sticker between his thumb and forefinger, contemplating the ethics of his plan. 

Was it invasive? 

Maybe. 

Was it necessary? 

Absolutely. 

He wasn't taking any chances, not with Letty's safety on the line.

The tension in the workshop had reached a fever pitch, and Guldrin was doing his best to tune it out. 

Revy and Alisa were locked in what could only be described as an all-out verbal war, a battle of words and volume that rivaled any gunfight Revy had ever been in.

Alisa had clearly reached her breaking point, venting years of pent-up frustration at Revy's antics. 

She brought up everything, from Revy's questionable life choices to her reckless behavior both now and back when Revy was a kid. Her voice carried the sharpness of someone who'd had one too many sleepless nights cleaning up messes she didn't make.

"You've always been like this, Revy! Always stirring up chaos, always dragging everyone else into it!" Alisa's arms flailed in exasperation, her tone dripping with exasperation.

"Oh, give me a break!" Revy shot back, her words slurring slightly as she finished off the private-stock whiskey she'd snagged earlier and pulled out a bottle of who knows what and began drinking. "You're so uptight, Alisa! You wouldn't know fun if it walked up and smacked you across the face. All you ever do is nag, nag, nag!"

"Nag?!" Alisa looked like she might spontaneously combust. "You think I'm the problem here? You're the one who thought it was a good idea to smuggle in a Browning machine gun when you were ten! Ten years old, Revy! Who even finds a Browning machine gun on Goldblood Island, let alone decides it's their new favorite toy?!"

"It was my favorite toy!" Revy shot back, a defiant grin spreading across her face. "And you know what? I was a damn good shot with it, too!"

Alisa threw her hands in the air, her voice climbing several octaves. "A ten-year-old shouldn't have access to machine guns! Or grenade launchers, for that matter! Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep you from blowing up half the island?!"

Revy smirked and leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying herself. "Yeah, well, maybe if you weren't such a killjoy, I wouldn't have had to hide my stash. You never let me have any fun. 'Revy, put the grenades away. Revy, don't point that rocket launcher at the chickens.' Blah, blah, blah."

"Fun?!" Alisa sputtered, her face turning red. "That's not fun! That's endangering lives! And don't even get me started on the time you-"

The argument spiraled further out of control, each of them digging up every grievance they could think of. Revy's whiskey-fueled insults became increasingly colorful, while Alisa's retorts grew more impassioned and razor-sharp. 

It was the kind of fight that could only happen between two people who knew each other too well and had far too much history.

Meanwhile, Guldrin sat at his workbench, cringing at the escalating chaos. He tried to focus on the task at hand, tinkering with his latest gadget, but it was impossible to completely block out the shouting match happening a few feet away. 

He glanced at Revy, who had turned her attention to a nearby workbench and was now fiddling with his M24 sniper rifle.

She was clearly trying to make a point, either to herself, Guldrin, or to Alisa, by meticulously painting the rifle in blue and black digital camo. 

The design itself wasn't bad, Guldrin supposed, but seeing Revy slather it onto his prized weapon without even consulting him made his stomach churn.

"Great," he muttered under his breath. "Because nothing screams 'stealth' like flashy camo on a precision rifle."

Still, he bit his tongue. There were bigger battles to fight, and right now, his focus needed to be elsewhere. Specifically, on the jacket.

Letty's jacket.

Guldrin glanced at the inconspicuous bug in his hand, the small sticker-like device that would soon become his secret insurance policy. The plan was simple: sneak into Letty's room, grab her jacket, attach the bug to the zipper, and get out without anyone noticing. Easy enough in theory, but in practice? Not so much.

Letty's room was her sanctuary, her fortress. She didn't take kindly to people invading her space, and if she caught him, there would be hell to pay. 

But Guldrin had weighed the risks and decided it was worth it.

He waited for the perfect moment, timing his move with the crescendo of Revy and Alisa's argument. They were so loud now that their voices echoed off the walls, drowning out any other noise. If there was ever a time to slip away unnoticed, this was it.

Sliding off his stool, Guldrin moved with practiced stealth, his footsteps silent against the cluttered floor. He navigated the maze of tools and discarded parts, his movements quick and deliberate. 

His heart raced as he approached the hallway that led to Letty's room, but he forced himself to stay calm.

The door to Letty's room was slightly ajar, and he could see the edge of her jacket hanging on the back of a chair inside. It was almost too easy, which made him suspicious. Letty was too smart to leave her guard down completely. Still, he wasn't about to back out now.

He slipped into the room, his eyes scanning for any signs of a trap. The space was surprisingly tidy. The jacket hung there, taunting him, and he moved toward it with the precision of a cat burglar.

Looking toward the bathroom, he saw a steam filled shower and clearly someone using it. 

'Okay… thank goodness the steam was covering everything… I don't… If I reacted to that… I wouldn't know how to face Mom in the future… But for now, she is occupied and shouldn't notice what I am doing.'

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the bug and peeled off the adhesive backing. His hands were steady as he pulled the leather cover off, and pressed the sticker-like bug against the zipper, smoothing it into place. It blended perfectly, practically invisible.

"Perfect," he whispered, putting the cover on again and, stepped back to admire his handiwork.

He turned to leave, but as he did, his foot brushed against something on the floor, a loose screw that had somehow escaped his notice. 

It rolled across the room with a soft ting, ting, ting, the sound louder than a gunshot in the silence.

Guldrin froze, his breath caught in his throat. He strained his ears, listening for any signs that Letty who was showering, or anyone else had heard the noise.

Nothing.

He exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. He slipped out of the room and back into the workshop, his movements as quiet as a shadow.

When he returned to his workbench, Revy and Alisa were still going at it, their voices now reaching a level that could probably be heard from space. 

Thank you magical sound proofing.

Revy was waving a screwdriver around for emphasis, while Alisa looked like she was about two seconds away from strangling her.

"You know what your problem is, Alisa?" Revy was saying, her words slightly slurred. "You're too serious. Life's short, and you're wasting it being a buzzkill."

"And you're too reckless!" Alisa shot back. "Not everything is a joke, Revy. Sometimes, you have to take responsibility for your actions!"

"Responsibility?" Revy barked, her laugh echoing through the workshop. It was the kind of laugh that could peel paint off walls, sharp, biting, and thoroughly unapologetic. 

"Yeah, okay, Miss Perfect. Why don't you take some responsibility for being such a pain in the ass?"

Alisa, her face a mix of disbelief and seething frustration, took a deep breath. She had the look of someone who'd just been handed a live grenade with the pin already pulled. "I am taking responsibility, Revy! For you! Someone has to clean up your messes, and it's always me! Do you think I enjoy being the only adult in the room?"

"Aren't you, like, two thousand years old?" Revy asked, and the look she received could have scared even the most battle hardened veterans.

At his workbench, Guldrin shook his head, hiding a grin that threatened to creep onto his face. 

His hands moved with practiced precision, fiddling with a small piece of tech that could probably be classified as either genius or illegal, depending on who was asking. 

The argument raging around him was loud, chaotic, and draining, but he found an odd sense of comfort in it.

This was his family, loud, dysfunctional, and impossible to ignore. 

They bickered like cats and dogs, but underneath it all was a bond as strong as tempered steel. As much as he hated to admit it, he wouldn't trade them for anything. 

Even if Revy and Alisa were currently going at it like they were auditioning for a soap opera.

Revy gestured wildly with a half-empty bottle of whiskey, nearly knocking over a nearby toolkit. "Oh, boo-hoo, Alisa! Poor you, always stuck babysitting. Newsflash, you don't have to stick around if it's such a burden. No one's forcing you!"

"Someone has to stick around, or you'd end up in a ditch somewhere! Plus, I am here for little master and little mistress, you just showed up out of nowhere!" Alisa shot back, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. 

"Do you even hear yourself right now? You're drunk off your ass, ranting about how I'm a buzzkill while you're painting someone else's gun without permission!"

Revy squinted at her, as if trying to decide whether to argue or double down on her current project. Her fingers were busy applying a meticulous layer of blue and black digital camo to Guldrin's M24 sniper rifle. 

The design was coming together beautifully… If you ignored the fact that she hadn't asked anyone whether it was a good idea.

Guldrin cringed as he glanced over at the rifle. His prized weapon, a testament to precision and subtlety, was being turned into something that looked like it belonged in a video game. He thought about saying something, but the sheer energy radiating from the argument made him reconsider. 

Sometimes, survival meant knowing when to pick your battles.

Just as the shouting reached a fever pitch, Shiro's head peeked into the room. Her golden eyes scanned the scene, taking in the sight of Alisa with her arms crossed, and her face flushed with irritation, and Revy looking entirely too pleased with herself despite being clearly drunk.

For a moment, Shiro just blinked, her expression blank. Then her lips quirked into a mischievous smile. "Bahahaha! Ahahaha! Hahahaha!" She burst into laughter, clutching the door frame for support.

Revy paused mid-rant to squint at Shiro. "What the hell's so funny?"

"This!" Shiro said between giggles, pointing at the two women like they were the stars of a comedy show. "This is great! You two are hilarious! Hang on, don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

True to her word, Shiro disappeared, only to return moments later with a massive bucket of popcorn. She plopped down next to Guldrin, offering him some without missing a beat.

"Thanks," Guldrin said, taking a handful and popping a few kernels into his mouth. The salty crunch was a surprisingly good distraction from the chaos.

Revy glared at Shiro, clearly unimpressed. "Oh, great. Now we've got an audience. Don't you have better things to do, kid?"

Shiro shook her head, her grin widening. "Nope! This is prime entertainment. Way better than the stuff on TV. Keep going, I'm invested now."

Alisa pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a prayer for patience. "This isn't a show, little mistress. Revy is—"

"I'm what?" Revy interrupted, her voice dripping with mock offense. "Go on, say it! I dare you!"

"You're impossible!" Alisa snapped, throwing her hands in the air. "Completely and utterly impossible! Do you even realize how exhausting it is to deal with you? You're like a hurricane, leaving chaos and destruction in your wake!"

Revy smirked, taking another swig from the bottle. "Yeah, well, at least I'm not boring."

Guldrin leaned over to Shiro, keeping his voice low. "Do you think we should... I don't know, try to stop them?"

Shiro shrugged, tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth. "Why? This is way more fun. Besides, they'll burn themselves out eventually. Probably."

"Probably?" Guldrin echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Fifty-fifty," Shiro admitted, holding out the bucket again. "More popcorn?"

As the argument continued, the insults became more creative, with Revy accusing Alisa of having "the personality of a wet blanket," and Alisa countering by listing every reckless stunt Revy had ever pulled, complete with dates and locations.

Guldrin found himself torn between exasperation and amusement. On the one hand, he really needed to focus on his work. 

On the other hand, it was hard not to get sucked into the absurdity of it all.

Revy was now gesturing so wildly that she nearly knocked over the rifle she'd been working on. "You know what your problem is, Alisa? You're so obsessed with rules and responsibility that you've forgotten how to live! Life's short, and you're wasting it being a stick in the mud!"

"And you're wasting it being a reckless idiot, you are a Goldblood, life isn't short for you! Thousands, Tens of Thousands, time is just a number, but that all ends if you are KILLLED!" Alisa fired back. "Do you have any idea how many times I've had to bail you out of trouble? Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself?"

"Of course, I think about other people!" Revy said, her voice rising. "I'm thinking about you right now, Alisa. Thinking about how much better your life would be if you just loosened up a little!"

Shiro nudged Guldrin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "This is gold. We should record this and sell tickets."

Guldrin gave her a sideways glance. "You really have a warped sense of humor, you know that?"

Shiro grinned, unrepentant. "I prefer to think of it as 'unique.'"

Eventually, the argument began to wind down, both women too hoarse and tired to keep yelling. Revy slumped back in her chair, still clutching the whiskey bottle, while Alisa crossed her arms and glared at the floor, her jaw tight.

"You're insufferable," Alisa muttered.

"Right back at ya," Revy replied, raising the bottle in a mock toast.

For a moment, the workshop was quiet, the only sounds the faint hum of machinery and the occasional crunch of popcorn. Then Shiro leaned forward, breaking the silence.

"So," she said, her tone bright and chipper, "who won?"

Revy and Alisa both turned to glare at her, their expressions identical in their disbelief.

"What?" Shiro said, blinking innocently. "I'm just saying, it feels like there should be a winner. Maybe we could take a vote?"

Guldrin couldn't help it, he laughed. It was a quiet, subdued chuckle at first, but it quickly grew into something louder and harder to contain. 

Shiro joined in, and before long, even Revy and Alisa were fighting not to smile.

At the break of dawn, the soft hues of sunlight crept through the kitchen window as Guldrin and Alisa worked in quiet harmony. 

The aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly cracked eggs wafted through the air, mingling with the subtle notes of coffee brewing on the counter. 

Alisa, ever meticulous, chopped a medley of fresh vegetables with precision, while Guldrin flipped pancakes with a rhythm that spoke to countless early mornings spent perfecting his craft.

They didn't need words; the steady rhythm of their work was enough. 

Occasionally, Alisa would glance at Guldrin, her expression betraying her curiosity. 

He was unusually focused, his movements deliberate, as if his mind were preoccupied.

Meanwhile, Letty was already up, long before anyone else had stirred. 

In her quiet corner of the garage, she methodically went through her gear. 

The faint metallic clinks of equipment being checked echoed softly in the early morning stillness. Letty's movements were smooth, efficient, and filled with purpose. 

She was in her element, double-checking her duffle bags, loading a sleek pistol from the safe, and meticulously inspecting her car for the trip ahead.

She believed she was moving in secret, her preparations cloaked in the early hour's solitude. But what she didn't fully grasp was what full surveillance coverage truly meant. 

Unbeknownst to her, Guldrin and Shiro had long since noticed her activity. Through their array of tech and their uncanny knack for observation, they had tracked her every move with ease. 

Shiro, ever the strategist, had smirked when she first noticed Letty's "covert" actions. Guldrin, on the other hand, simply watched with quiet understanding and worry.

Letty was planning something significant, that much was obvious. She hadn't explicitly told them what her "business trip" entailed, but her level of preparation spoke volumes. The weight of unspoken words hung in the air, and Guldrin had decided to handle the situation with care.

By the time breakfast was ready, the table was a picture of perfection. Fluffy stacks of golden pancakes, bowls of freshly cut fruit, crispy strips of bacon, and egg omelettes cooked to perfection sat ready to be enjoyed. The rich aroma filled the house, beckoning the family to gather.

Letty walked in, her stride confident, though her eyes betrayed a faint tension. She greeted them casually, masking the undercurrent of urgency that buzzed beneath her composed exterior.

"Smells great in here," she said, her tone light.

Guldrin shot her a small grin as he set a steaming mug of coffee in front of her. "Figured we'd send my wonderful Mother off with a proper breakfast," he said, keeping his tone deliberately nonchalant.

Letty paused for a fraction of a second, her sharp instincts catching the subtle edge in his words. But she brushed it off, sitting down and taking a sip of the coffee.

As the family began to eat, the mood was lively. Shiro, ever mischievous, threw playful jabs at Guldrin about his pancake-flipping technique, while Alisa kept the conversation balanced with her measured remarks. 

Despite the chatter, Letty's impending departure loomed over the table.

Midway through the meal, Guldrin decided it was time. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, elegantly wrapped box and a sleek smartwatch that gleamed in the morning light.

"Mom," he began, his voice steady but warm and full of concern, "I know you're heading out soon, and I just wanted to give you something before you go."

Letty's brow furrowed slightly as she looked at the gifts. "What's this for?" she asked, her tone curious.

Guldrin shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Just a little something to wish you well. Consider it a good luck charm… or maybe a way to keep you from forgetting about us while you're off handling business."

The room fell quiet as Letty opened the box, revealing a delicate necklace with a small, intricate pendant that sparkled softly. Her fingers brushed over it, her expression unreadable.

"It's beautiful," she said softly, her voice carrying an undertone of surprise.

"And this," Guldrin continued, holding out the smartwatch, "is for staying connected. It's got everything, GPS, alerts, music, emergency signals, you name it. Thought it might come in handy. I have been working on it for a while now,"

He holds up his wrist to show he is also wearing one, "See, I also have one… Works like a charm." He grinned,

Letty's sharp eyes flicked to his, searching for something beneath the surface of his words. For a moment, it felt like a silent battle of wills, her instincts telling her there was more to this gesture than met the eye. 

But Guldrin held her gaze, his expression steady, and eventually, she relented.

"Thanks, Son," she said, slipping the necklace around her neck and fastening the clasp. The smartwatch followed, its sleek design fitting seamlessly on her wrist.

"You're welcome," Guldrin replied, his tone light. "Just make sure you come back in one piece. I mean, someone's gotta critique my pancakes."

"And help us learn how to take apart and put together every car in existence." Shiro chimed in from the side,

Letty chuckled, the tension in her posture easing slightly. "You got it."

As breakfast wound down, Letty excused herself to finish her final preparations. 

Guldrin and Shiro exchanged a knowing glance as she left the room, both keenly aware that her 'business trip' was far from ordinary.

Once Letty was out of earshot, Shiro leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know she's gonna figure it out, right? She's not exactly easy to fool."

In the garage, Letty loaded her gear into the trunk of her car, her mind racing. The gifts were thoughtful, almost too thoughtful. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to them than simple well-wishes. But as she ran her fingers over the pendant around her neck, a small smile crept onto her face.

Whatever her suspicions, one thing was clear: her family cared, and that was enough to ground her in the chaos of whatever lay ahead.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Letty's car roared to life, its engine purring like a content predator. She glanced at the shop one last time, a mixture of determination and warmth in her eyes, before pulling out of the driveway.

From the shop's main window, Guldrin watched her go, his expression unreadable. Shiro stood beside him, arms crossed as she studied him.

"You think she'll be okay?" she asked, her voice softer than usual.

"She'll be fine," Guldrin said, his tone firm. "She's Mom."

"And if she's not?"

Guldrin's jaw tightened, but he didn't answer. Instead, he turned away from the window, his mind already racing with contingencies and plans.

Shiro sighed, following him into the kitchen. "You know, for someone who acts all chill, you worry way too much."

Guldrin shot her a wry grin. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on things."

(So, a question… Should I leave it up to chance to see if Guldrin saves Letty, or let it play out how it did in the movies? I mean, I feel like letting it just happen is kinda sus, but saving her, where will she go? What will that change for the following movies? Let her get saved and still go undercover? Does Beckman involve herself? What does that mean for bringing Dom back? Thoughts, feelings? Leave them here, and thanks for reading.)

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