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Calculated Risk

Summary:

For someone like Six, devotion and actions were the quiet expressions of commitment.

Notes:

I have so much without writing about Generator Rex, so I sincerely hope that I'm not rusty and that you guys enjoy it.

Please let me know your thoughts, thanks a lot.

Work Text:

Providence. 14:00 hours. Security level: High. Nerve level: Higher.

Six reviewed his plan for the tenth time in the last hour in the conference room of Providence.

“Operation: Engagement. Phase One,” he murmured, adjusting his sunglasses even though no one was watching. “Risk assessment: 30% chance of interruption, 10% chance of rejection, and a 60% probability of encountering an annoying teenager or armed chimp interference.”

Right on cue, Bobo poked his head into the room.

“Did someone say ‘armed chimp’? Present and ready to sabotage!” he said proudly.

Six didn’t respond. Instead, he stood up from his usual spot at the meeting table, ready to leave. Bobo climbed onto the table, holding a half-peeled banana in one hand and a (thankfully unlit) cigar in the other.

“Come on, Green Man. Are you really going to do it today? Did you get the ring? Do you have a speech prepared? What’s the backup plan if she starts analyzing your feelings instead of saying yes?”

Six blinked slowly, which, in Six-language, meant he was barely containing his frustration. “The speech is minimal. Ring secured. The backup plan includes a strategic exit via air vents.”

“So romantic!” Bobo exclaimed while clapping. “Can I be the best man? Or at least a witness? I’ve got a tuxedo with a glow-in-the-dark bowtie.”

“You’re not invited. Yet.

“Of course you know that she will invite me.”

At that exact moment, Rex burst in like a hurricane. “Wait—are you going to finally get married?! And no one told me?!” Rex exclaimed.

Six sighed. Rex had a knack for appearing at the worst possible time.

“I haven’t proposed yet,” Six clarified.

“And you’re already all set? Flowers? Dinner? Music? Confetti?” Rex asked excitedly.

“There is no need of confetti. This is a precision mission. I require you both to refrain from interfering,” Six instructed. Rex and Bobo exchanged glances.

“He says that as if we won’t interfere,” Bobo muttered.

“Exactly,” Rex grinned. “What could go wrong?”

_____

Providence's Laboratory 16:00 PM.

Dr. Holiday was reviewing EVO reports from Madagascar when Six entered, calm as ever. She raised an eyebrow.

“Are you here to tell me to rest again? Because I have coffee, data, and my scientific stubbornness, Agent,” she said.

“No. I'm here to propose a long-term strategic alliance.”

Holiday stared at him, confused. “Excuse me?”

Six pulled a small black box from his coat and opened it. Inside, a simple but elegant ring glinted under Providence's lights. “I wish to marry you.”

Silence followed. Then, as if reality itself had cracked for a moment, Bobo dropped out of the air vent, yelling, “HE PROPOSED! The most emotionally repressed man just went full Romeo!” As Six didn't even flinch, knowing it would happen anyway.

“Dude!” Rex poked his head through the door, pointing at him with his cellphone camera. “This is gold. Pure gold!”

Holiday blinked, then chuckled softly, covering her mouth. “Six… is this the proposal protocol of an agent and mercenary?”

“Planned. Timed. To the millisecond,” he replied with his usual seriousness, though there was a softer tone in his voice now—maybe just for a moment.

She stepped closer. “Yes.”

He blinked once. “Yes?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you, Six. Though, I hope you know I will tweak the protocol to include a bit more… human emotion. Maybe even a waltz.”

“Minor modifications are acceptable, as long as they don’t compromise the mission.”

Behind them, Bobo threw confetti from who-knows-where, shouting, “We got a wedding! Somebody get an EVO as the flower beast!”

Rex crossed his arms, grinning. “I didn’t think I’d live to see the day… or at least not without you being unconscious, Six.”

“I am wounded. Emotionally,” Six replied.

And for once, everyone laughed—yes, and he didn't mind at all.

_____

Please tell me you're joking.

 

Two days later.

Providence Cafeteria.

Operation Debrief. Code:

Engagement Fallout.

 

“So wait,” said Noah, holding a forkful of mashed potatoes in midair. “You’re telling me Six proposed? Voluntarily? Without being blackmailed or body-snatched?” 

Rex nodded proudly. “Like a boss. He just walked up to her and dropped the ring like it was a tactical nuke.” 

“Did she faint?” 

“Nope. She said yes. And now they’re officially Providence’s hottest power couple.” Rex took a dramatic bite of his burger. “Bobo and I are handling all the wedding planning.” 

Noah stared. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“Oh, I wish.” 

Across the room, Holiday and Six sat at a separate table, quietly sharing a coffee. She smiled at something he said. He didn't smile back, but somehow his posture softened just a little. 

Noah leaned in. “Do you think Six is capable of love?” 

“He’s capable of everything,” Rex said with a grin. “He just does it… very quietly.”

 

_____

Plans

Six was polishing his swords—because some rituals never changed—when Bobo burst in, holding a clipboard.

“Okay, I’ve got three wedding venue options,” Bobo announced.

“No,” Six replied immediately.

“Hear me out. Option one: an EVO-free jungle temple with an ancient aesthetic and a mild spider infestation.”

“No.”

“Option two: the rooftop of Providence at sunset. It’s scenic, romantic, and possibly windy.”

“…maybe,” Six considered.

Bobo clapped his hands. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Next up: vows. I’ve prepared a draft. Something like, ‘Holiday, you hacked my firewall and invaded my—’”

Six drew one of his swords without even looking up.

“Okay, okay, I get it! It’s a work in progress!” Bobo quickly added.

_____

Providence's roof

Providence Rooftop. 18:05 PM.

A strong wind swept across the rooftop. It wasn’t exactly a fairy tale setting, but for Six it was perfect—high security, minimal floral arrangements, no emotional speeches, and a chimp in a tuxedo waving a banana.

“Everyone in position!” Bobo shouted, balancing on a speaker. “The bride is approaching from the elevator shaft! Rex, cue the music!”

Rex hit play on his custom playlist. The song started off with a gentle instrumental, but then it suddenly changed to what sounded suspiciously like those terrible songs he and Bobo called good music.

“I swear this was orchestral when I edited it!” Rex whispered.

From the elevator, Holiday stepped out. She donned a simple white dress and tucked a few strands behind her ear, as she was no longer accustomed to wearing her hair down.

Six stood waiting at the makeshift altar. He didn’t blink or shift his weight. Holiday stopped in front of him, her eyes soft.

“You look… sharp,” she murmured.

“I look the same as I always do.”

“That’s why it’s comforting.”

Bobo cleared his throat dramatically. “Dearly weaponized and emotionally stunted, we are gathered here today to witness the merger of Agent Six and Doctor Rebecca Holiday in holy… bureaucratic entanglement.”

Holiday snorted. Six blinked. Rex facepalmed.

“We’re doing this with minimal chimp interference, remember?” Rex whispered.

“I am the officiant,” Bobo retorted. “It’s in the by laws.”

There were no such by laws, but no one had the energy to challenge him.

Bobo continued, pulling out a piece of paper he had clearly scribbled on fifteen minutes prior. “Do you, Agent Six, take this beautiful genius with questionable taste in coworkers to be your officially bonded partner in health, science, and post-mission sarcasm?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Doctor Holiday, take this man of few words, many swords, and exactly zero sense of humor to be your partner, even if he never remembers anniversaries because he’s always thinking in combat cycles?”

Holiday smiled. “I do.”

Rex handed them two silver rings, custom-forged. They felt a little cold to the touch, as Six didn't even dare to ask where Rex even got them. They exchanged rings, silent but sure.

“You may now—” Bobo began, but was cut off by the sharp whine of a siren from the building below them.

“EVO breach detected. Sector Nine.” Holiday said as she turned on her ear-com.

A moment of groaning followed, with Rex and Bobo complaining about the bad timing.

Holiday sighed. “Of course.”

Six turned to her. “I can take care of it.”

She narrowed her eyes. “We can take care of it.”

“You will need to change—”

“Can wait.”

Before Bobo or Rex could react, the newlyweds were already halfway to the elevator. Rex yelled after them.

“Seriously?! You’re going on an EVO hunt in your wedding clothes?!”

Holiday turned her head and grinned. “You expected a honeymoon?”

Six didn’t turn. “Engagement protocol included a contingency combat clause.”

Rex laughed. “Man, even your wedding is classified.”

Holiday's dress had a long rip down one side, and Six had EVO goo on his coat. Both of them were sitting together with trays of food on the cafeteria, trying to recover after such an intense battle. 

Bobo raised a plastic cup and said, “To the couple that slays together…” 

“Stays together,” Rex finished, toasting with his orange soda. 

Holiday rested her head briefly on Six’s shoulder. He didn’t flinch; he simply allowed her to stay there. 

“I think,” she said softly, “we should have our first dance.” 

Six hesitated. “I’m not trained for—” 

“I’ll lead.” Holiday smiled. “Romantic and efficient.” 

Bobo raised his cup once more. “Now that’s a wedding!”

----

The morning after.

A quiet moment. Holiday had insisted they take the night off—no alerts, no Rex, no Bobo, no missions. Just the two of them.

Morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting stripes across the floor. There were no alarms buzzing, no soldiers running to the nearest hangar—only silence.

Six was already awake. He sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed except for his coat. His sunglasses rested on the bedside table beside a cooling mug of tea he hadn’t touched. He remained still, watching. Holiday slept curled up on her side, breathing slowly with a soft crease between her brows. She never fully relaxed—even in sleep.

He memorized the rise and fall of her breathing. This was new for him. Not unpleasant, just... unpracticed. Her hand shifted on the bed, reaching out as if searching for something—or someone.

Six didn’t move right away. He studied her motion, cataloging the moment in his mind like it was a mission entry. Then, after a brief pause, he reached out and gently closed his fingers around hers. Holiday stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she blinked up at him. 

“You’re staring,” she said.

“It’s... unfamiliar,” he replied.

“What is?”

“Waking up beside someone I don’t have to protect from a biochemical threat.”

Holiday chuckled sleepily and scooted closer, resting her head against his side. She looked up at him, searching his face. 

“No regrets?” she asked.

“None,” he said.

“You thought about it, though.”

“I considered the odds, the mission implications, potential fallout, and emotional instability.”

“And?”

“I chose the risk.”

Holiday smiled. She leaned up to kiss the corner of his jaw—a quiet, content gesture that expressed her gratitude for staying more than any words could. 

He didn’t react outwardly, but his hand tightened gently around hers.

“I could get used to this,” she said softly, letting her eyes drift closed again.

“Not advisable,” he responded automatically.

“Six,” she said, playfully.

He paused before admitting, “...I could, too.”

They stayed like that—silent and close, breathing in sync.

Alarms would eventually sound again, missions would resume, EVOs would evolve, Rex would break something, and Bobo would claim he could fix it. But for now, in the quiet between all that noise, they had a moment of peace.

----

Just married protocol

 

“EVO nest confirmed. It’s underground the sewers of Baltimore, and the bio-readings are unstable,” Holiday said, tapping on the projected map on her wristband. “We’ll go in as a team of three—myself, Six, and Rex. The goal is containment and gathering intel. No excessive force unless provoked.” 

Rex raised an eyebrow. “Provoked? That’s my middle name. So, no Bobo?” 

Holiday shook her head. “He’s grounded. Last week’s ‘decoy robot’ nearly blew up an entire data wing.” 

Six spoke quietly, arms crossed. “Rex, you cover the perimeter. I’ll take point, and Holiday will stay in the rear.” 

Holiday rolled her eyes. “I’m not fragile, Six.” 

“I’m aware, but that doesn’t change the protocol.” 

“You mean your protocol.” 

They stared at each other in silence, the familiar tension between two married tacticians still learning how to compromise. Rex shifted awkwardly in his seat. 

“Okay… lovebirds. Can you two please go fight monsters now?”

 

EVO residue marked the walls of the sewers—the nest pulsed deeper below. Rex scanned ahead with his googles. 

“Two readings. Something big. One’s moving.”

Holiday tapped her comm. “We’ll draw them out.”

Six nodded once, tapping his comm. “Standard sweep. No unnecessary risk.”

But it never goes by the book.

When they reached the nest, it exploded. An EVO, spider-like and massive, burst from the wall. A second one—smaller, faster—skittered to flank them. Holiday drew her pistol. “We split their attention!”

“Negative—stay back—!” Six snapped, but she was already moving.

She got one shot off—a direct hit. The smaller EVO went down twitching. But the big one… lunged. Holiday turned just as it struck —too fast for her to dodge completely. Rex yelled through his comm. Six ran .

He didn’t think. He never ran into danger recklessly. But when he saw her fall, he didn’t hesitate. Six  landed on the EVO’s back with both swords drawn. No calculation. No control. Just a blur of blades.

It screeched and collapsed beneath him. He was on the ground beside her before it finished twitching.

“Rebecca...”

Her eyes were half-closed. Blood soaked her right sleeve. Her breathing was ragged.

“Pulse—weak. Shallow—” he muttered. “We need evac. Now.”

Rex’s voice crackled through the comm. “Chopper incoming. ETA two minutes. Six—?”

Six didn’t answer. He pressed his hand to the wound, applying pressure. His other hand cupped her face—gently.

“Stay awake.”

Her lips moved. Barely audible.

“Six... I told you not to panic.”

“I’m not panicking.”

“You’re yelling.”

“I never yell.”

She managed the faintest smile. “Except... when you’re scared.”

He stared at her, and for the first time since Rex had known him, Six looked... lost .

----

Recovery protocol.

She survived. 

The doctors in Providence stabilized her. Holiday's shoulder would need rehabilitation, but there was no major nerve damage. She would be back on her feet in a few days. 

Six hadn’t left her side. 

When she woke up, she found him seated beside her bed, his coat draped over the chair, and his glasses off. His expression was blank—too blank. 

“You didn’t sleep,” she said. 

He didn’t reply. 

“You didn’t leave.” 

Finally, he looked at her, his eyes dark and tired.

“You should’ve waited for the signal,” Six said.

“I didn’t have time,” she answered. 

“Next time, make time.” 

Holiday studied him closely. 

“You were afraid.” 

He exhaled slowly. The silence that followed was heavy. She reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she reassured him.

Six offered her a cup of tea Holiday didn't even notice he had brought with him,

“You remembered I like chamomile after morphine,” she murmured.

“I remember everything about you.”

She looked at him for a moment, then smiled.

“You never gave me that coat back,” he said. "Back then, our first mission together before Rex, when your combat suit got that nasty cut across your chest."

“Technically, I never gave it away,” she teased.

“You stole it.”

“You offered it.”

“You didn’t return it.”

“So take it back.”

“No.”

He hadn’t spoken much since the mission—only to Holiday. And of course, that was when Rex walked in. Bobo followed right behind him. Six didn’t stop training; that was expected. However, Rex deliberately made his way to Six’s blind spot and flopped onto one of the benches with a loud sigh.

“You’re going to break something if you keep going at that pace,” Rex said.

Bobo perched on the bench arm, swinging his legs. “I told him to give you space, he ignored me. You’re welcome.”

“Would you like me to leave?” Six asked flatly, without looking up.

“Sure. After you admit it,” Rex replied with a grin.

Six stopped. “…Admit what?”

“That you're not bulletproof where she’s concerned.”

Silence filled the room. Six turned slightly, lowering his blades just a fraction. His face remained unreadable, but the silence spoke volumes.

Bobo tilted his head. “You know, we used to place bets.”

Six blinked.

“Not money, of course,” Rex said quickly. “Providence doesn’t pay us that well. But Bobo once bet his entire banana stash that you’d crack first.”

“I did not,” Bobo snapped. “I bet that doctor beautiful would confess first. You’re the emotional glacier in this equation.”

Six sheathed one sword and said, “You shouldn’t be wagering on your commanding officers’ personal lives.”

“Oh please,” Bobo muttered. “You two were the soap opera around here. ‘Will they, won’t they, oh wait—of course they will, but only when someone’s dying.’ Classic.”

Rex leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “But after what happened last mission…” His voice softened. “You scared us, man. I’ve never seen you like that. Not even when Van Kleiss showed up on Providence and almost killed us.”

Six remained silent. He didn’t deny it.

“It’s not that we thought you didn’t care,” Rex continued. “We just didn’t realize how much you let yourself feel it.”

Six looked directly at him.

Rex smiled. “And it turns out... you’re not the cold, untouchable sword-bot we thought you were. You’re just a guy who’s really, really bad at showing how much he loves someone.”

Finally, Six answered, his voice low. “She’s the variable I never prepared for.”

Bobo sniffed. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“She’s also the only reason you’re not both on paperwork duty for a month.”

“See? That’s love,” Bobo grinned. “Threatening us with consequences in her name. Adorable.”

Six turned away, but something in his posture shifted.

Rex stood up and stretched. “For what it’s worth… we’re glad she’s okay. And we’re glad you’re okay.”

Six’s hands clenched once, then released. “Thank you.”

Rex blinked. “Whoa. That might be the first time you’ve ever thanked me for anything.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“I’m printing it and framing it.”

As they left, Bobo...looked over his shoulder at Six, who had resumed his training—slightly slower now.

“Think they’ll last?” Bobo asked.

Rex shrugged. “They’ve already been through more than most couples ever do. If that didn’t break them… nothing will.”

They both paused.

Then Rex added, “Also, I’m like... 90% sure she’s the only person who could make him voluntarily dance with her. So yeah. They’ll be fine.”

----

Getting used to it- protocol

Inside the kitchen, there was only the soft clinking of a spoon against a ceramic mug.

Holiday sat curled into one of the chairs. Although the healing wound in her shoulder tugged a little when she moved, the pain was manageable.

Six stood his back turned, pouring hot water into her mug. His jacket was folded over the back of a chair. His posture was still perfect, but without the rigidity that usually defined him. He returned to her side and held out the tea. 

“Not chamomile this time?” she asked, amused.

“Lemon balm,” he said. “Sleep aid. Mild.”

She accepted it with a grateful hum, their fingers brushing briefly. “Are you saying I need rest, Agent?”

“I’m saying I want you alive. Rest helps with that.”

She smiled and took a careful sip. Then she asked, “Rex and Bobo talked to you today, didn’t they?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but he did sit beside her, close enough that their knees nearly touched. 

“Yes,” he finally replied.

“And?”

“They were loud. And correct.”

Holiday let out a quiet laugh. “That’s the best kind of uncomfortable truth.” 

Six looked at her—really looked. “They were afraid I’d lose you.”

Her voice softened. “You were afraid.”

He didn’t deny it. 

“I still am,” he said, his voice lower. “Even now. Not because of weakness, but because of what it would cost me.”

She set her mug down and took his hand, resting it over her heartbeat. “This is where I stay,” she whispered. “You don’t have to protect me from the possibility of loss, Six. Just choose me anyway.”

There was a long pause. Then his hand tightened gently over hers. 

“I do. Every time.”

They sat together in silence for a long while. He leaned his head gently against hers—not out of exhaustion or instinct, but because he wanted to. 

Holiday closed her eyes and allowed herself to finally rest—without fear.