Beneath his eyelids, Tony Francisco swears he hears the ocean.

It crashes around him, wind howling as it angrily arrests his senses with sea salt and thick droplets against his skin. There's anger in the way the cold night air sticks to his pajamas.

Beneath the cracks of the pier, he swears he can feel the ocean's anger. It shakes the unpolished wood beneath his feet as he walks towards the edge. Onto the storm.

Everything about this is too wrong. Too alive. The wind calls him in a familiar voice but he brushes it off. He meets the ledge where the sea angrily splashes him, wind seemingly shoving him away. As if it's warning him to turn back; to abandon whatever he's planning but his feet keep moving.

He takes a step off the floorboards and tips into the water. And as he closes his eyes and embraces impact, it comes to his attention he was holding someone's hand the whole time.

A long haired girl looks at him, eyes glazed but also very frightened. He holds her hand very tight as her skin looks paler the closer they get to the sea.

"Antonio,"

"Geenie-" Too late, his heart sinks.

Then cold nothing as they break the surface of the heavy water. For a moment, Tony thinks to struggle.

The bedroom is a comfort and a shock as he is noticeably neither wet or anywhere near the ocean. The tumultuous sounds of city life outside his window is a comforting distraction as he lays perfectly still.

Once his breathing evens out, he starts to move.

It's still a haze as he tries to remember what time it is. His alarm clock is notably absent from the bedside table. As are his bowl of candies with his glasses. Tony pulls the thick blanket off him and blinks intentionally.

"Shit." He yawns. It's too raw to go back to sleep again though, he thinks as he sits up. Tony arches his back a little and stretches, taking another deep breath.

Suddenly there's movement from the other side of the bed. There's a brief brush of long soft hair as she rolls to hug at his waist. He doesn't need to see under the blanket to know there's a tan girl languidly trying to curl against him for warmth. All thick proportions and eyes just as brown looking up at him under the covers.

The soft pressure around him is a comfort until the memory of his dream kicks back. The sting of realization that he nearly drowned her in his dream sits heavily on his chest.

"Geenie." He lifts the blanket anyway.

"Your hands are cold." She mumbles as he sifts his fingers through her hair in long strokes. She neither acknowledges the stroking nor opens her eyes. 

"That doesn't make any sense." In this light, her hair is almost brown. The touch reminds him that she's real. And safe.

"You managed to sneak in last night, huh?" He says with a laugh. "Stupid me thought locks could stop you."

She makes a vague sound and looks up at him. "You were having a bad dream when I was gonna wake you for breakfast so I decided to take a nap."

"That doesn't make any sense." He laughs and she sticks her tongue out on him before rolling off his lap and sitting up too.

She asks as she sinks back into the bed and looks at him. "Are you okay, Antonio?"

He stops for a moment and pulls the sheets over her head and stands up. "I will be." He says quietly. "Matulog ka pa, Geenie."

"Matteo will kill you if you eat breakfast now." Geenie grumbles from under the blankets. "It's almost noon."

"I don't mind if it's a little cold. I don't think Mac will either." He grins at that stupid nickname that stuck.

Tony's phone buzzes in his jacket hanging on his closet's knob. Geenie's vibrates under the sheets. Neither of them check it.

"Are you going to sleep here pa?" He puts on his glasses gently.

"Mhm. Let me know if you have evening plans." Her head jerks a little from under the sheets but stays under the covers.

Tony smiles. "Yeah." He turns right before he closes the door "And please put away your bra, jeez." He narrowly avoids getting a face full of used lacy cloth by shutting the door just in time.

In the kitchen, a well-built man wears an apron as he scrubs the plates clean and leaves them on the rack to dry. He towers above Tony reasonably and is more muscular.

"Morning Mac." Tony smiles as he finds breakfast covered for him.

Mac pretends to only notice him coming in. "Oh, there you are Tony." He says with a fake look of surprise, spiky morning hair swaying a little as he turns to his companion. "Giselle and I were wondering where you were for the past, uh," He pretends to check his phone. "Six hours. Well, would you look at that. It's noon."

Tony rolls his eyes and drinks his instant coffee with more sugar than he intended. His takes it all in three large gulps and finishes the rest of his breakfast. There's enough garlic rice and tapa for him.

"You really need to stop this bad habit of sleeping late, Tony." Mac sits across him at their small counter for three. "It's worrying Giselle."

And he's sure it does. Tony almost forgets Giselle is Geenie's real name but doesn't make it obvious.

"She's used to it." He says nonchalantly and Mac glares at him.

"Well, I'm not. And I get it takes a few years to break a habit, but this isn't healthy."

Tony leans over the space between them, his eyes suggestive and tongue licking his lips. "Oh, so you do care." He purrs. "How sweet-" Tony's face collides with the anime mug and it gently but consistently presses him back to his seat.

"Fuck off, Kiko." He says seriously but Tony just laughs at that old stupid nickname.

"Was just teasing." Tony pouts and innocently finishes his food. "Don't have to take it so personally."

"Well, speaking of responsibility," Mac says as if it was brought up. "It's cleaning day so we have to fix our shit for the afternoon." He muses aloud. "Also Landlord needs that favor done by Thursday."

He pauses a bit before lifting the spoon fully into his mouth."Yeah, I'll take it up with Geenie." He finishes the last of his food. "And for this evening?"

"You haven't checked your phone yet?" All traces of banter are gone in Mac's eyes.

"I will." Tony assures him. "Didn't think I'd need to yet since we all know who sent it."

Mac pinches the bridge of his nose. "Let's just be prepared, okay?"

"Are the stuff ready?"

Mac nods. "Everything will be in order when we start."

"Good." He takes off his glasses with a smile and looks at his companion. "Also, good you remember who's captain of this ship."

Mac rolls his eyes. "Aye aye, Sir."

"Oooh," Tony raises an eyebrow with a wry smile. "I kinda liked that."

Mac kicks his seat from under the table with one pajama-clad leg, "Fuck off, Kiko."

Tony chuckles and brings his plate to the sink to clean. They talk a little more about the chores to be done when Giselle walks into the kitchen.

"Sleepy?" Tony asks as she hands him his phone.

"Mmn, yeah." She sits on her respective stool between his and Mac's. "You have any plans tonight?"

"Yes." Mac said curtly. "We'll be gone by twenty two hundred hours-"

"-Nerd speak for ten in the evening-"

"-Yes, thank you Tony, she knows that. And we don't know how long it'll take for the affair to end." Mac pockets his phone and rubs the back of his neck instinctively.

Giselle nods and makes a mental note of it. She smiles at them both vaguely and the topic is dropped in favor of discussing the chores for the afternoon.

Morning duties are decided on right then and there. After a heavy lunch cooked on the spot, they get to work.

Giselle takes the rags that were cleaned and takes her time dusting the inside of each room. She keeps the windows shiny and helps organize the items fallen on the floor with no care whether she's allowed to do so.

She polishes the beds of her companions and she changes the sheets. The thin quilted mattress on the floor of her room is changed while the floor she just polished shines. Monitors in every room light up as she does, a black glove on top of one of them lights a little as she comes near. Some aren't even plugged.

Tony is in the laundry room folding and drying all of their clothes. It helps that they all dress pretty differently so sorting later shouldn't be too much of a pain. He sets aside the black clothes him and Mac will be needing for the night and packing the rest into the laundry basket.

Thank god they do this once a week so their house is always clean. And as he leaves, Tony catches himself in the mirror and checks his appearance from head to foot. He'd glance every now and then but now he can look at himself properly. From his messy hair and black glasses to the boxer shorts with a comic book print and the loose shirt from his High School PE class, Tony can say he looked pretty good.

Mac closes the trunk of the car with a loud thud. He groans as the back is now almost full. On the phone, there is the stutter of a man unsure of how to put everything into words. For the nth time today, Mac asks him to take deep breaths and continues. They have the entire afternoon anyway and as long as information is passing through, it's fine. It's all fine.

The man continues to stutter and demand utter secrecy to which Mac assures him yet again the info stays with him and his team. He idly grabs a pen and lists the groceries while the man on the other line sobs about his family. Mac writes the grocery list quietly, checking every now and then that the phone call is recording. From inside the car, he sees the black knuckleduster he left on the driver's seat. Mac admires it idly, making vague noises every now and then to ensure the person on the other end of the line that he is listening.

Eventually, the evening draws near. The sky turns the concrete and pathetic patches of greenery dark orange in its wake. It filters through the windows but does not bother the three of them sitting in the dark of their living room.

They're exhausted and lean against each other on the couch in front of the television. The channels flip until it gets to a movie neither of them like but is decent enough to leave buzzing in the background.

The overtly happy orchestra sets Giselle humming a little to the tune.

Mac is at the center, arms splayed as he was too lazy to move them after stretching. Giselle sits close to his right, sitting cross-legged and watching the film intently. Her brows are furrowed and lips parted gently. Mac pretends not to watch her doing so. Tony sits to Mac's left with one leg up and head on one of the rather firm pillows.

As the climax for the movie begins, night seems to be creeping up on them. Tony barely lifts his head and Mac already shows him the time on his phone. The former acknowledges it with a nod. Mac does not break his gaze from the movie but replies with another curt nod.

Plenty of time for another movie.

As the movie in the next channel plays, the gaps between the three of them close little by little. Perhaps it's in the chill of the moment before it's about to rain or the fact the tension presented in the movie is unbearable. The electric fan swings idly.

Tony yawns a little, pretending not to have watched this before.

Giselle snuggles on her head on Mac and yawns too. The words he planned to say die before they reach his lips. He tries not to move in case she decides for some reason to move away.

This is fine, his lips split into a smile as she seems to purr at little. His hand over her head, unsure if he should pet her or if she'll be mad. There's a small chuckle that's barely heard but it's enough to get Mac to turn his head. Mac glowers at that smug ass face.

Tony snorts loudly, pretending not to have seen this before.

The atmosphere of sleepy comfort is disrupted by the sharp mono-syllabic tone and vibration in Tony's pocket. They look at the clock and nod at each other.

"Giselle," Mac says gently.

She stretches and yawns a little as she sits up from resting her head on his lap. "Is it time already?"

"We still need to get ready." Tony is already on his feet, smoothing his hair. "You should too."

She makes a vague sound as she lies back down on the couch, warm from the cocktail of body heat. She stills for a moment and Tony rolls his eyes.

"We'll be out in an hour. Get ready. See you when we get back." Tony ruffles her hair unceremoniously. Mac glares at him as they retreat to their rooms to get dressed.

They emerge half an hour later, dressed in black and full jeans. Their hair is slicked back and earpieces clipped but offline for now.

They take their leave and Giselle props her head up from the couch cushions to check if they're really gone. She sighs. Work is a goddamn pain sometimes.

She spots the black glove on top of one of the monitors in her room. The long wires attached to it trail to the back and are apparently hooked up to the various CPU and monitors in the room.

The monitors turn on as she approaches the door frame.