When Simmons finally persuaded Donut to get back to base, it had been completely empty. Well, not as much empty as quiet; Sarge had probably gone back to his room, and there was no doubt that Grif had taken that as an opportunity to fit in a nap.
After throwing off his armor haphazardly near the base of the ladder, Simmons strolled leisurely down the hallway leading to his room. Donut followed him with a nervous gait -- probably going to ask Sarge about the Caboose thing, Simmons thought dismissively as he reached the door he was looking for. Donut stopped behind him.
Confused, Simmons turned. "What are you doing?" he asked his comrade, raising an eyebrow as Donut fidgeted beneath his gaze. His lips pressed together firmly as he waited for an answer.
"Just standing here, you know. Doing nothing. Definitely not waiting for you to open your door. No sir-ree!" Donut was acting far too enthusiastic for something as anticlimactic as him opening his door. Something had to be up.
"Donut, what did you put in my room?" Simmons demanded, hoping that the other man hadn't decided to redecorate again. That would certainly explain why he wouldn't let me go in my room earlier.
"Absolutely nothing!" Donut sounded slightly offended. "Geez, always just assume it's my fault..." he muttered mostly to himself.
Simmons turned back to the doorknob and braced himself as he turned it and opened the door into the room.
Only to see Grif, sitting on his bed and hunched over some scrunched up papers with a mostly empty box of something next to him. He had been right. There was definitely something going on.
He started into the room angrily only to be stopped by Donut, who darted in and closed the door again. Simmons was just able to catch a glimpse of Grif looking surprised and slightly fearful before the wood slammed shut. "Oops!" Donut exclaimed in a fakely cheerful voice. "Um, guess we didn't stay out long enough?"
"What the fuck is Grif doing in my room?!"
"Nothing?"
"Whatever it was he was doing, it wasn't nothing!" Simmons growled, trying to pry Donut's hands off the doorknob. The younger man's grip was surprisingly strong and he refused to let go, but Simmons was determined. Just as he had gotten Donut's first hand off of the knob, he heard a soft yet distinct click from the other side of the door.
"Grif, you did not just lock me out of my own room!" Simmons yelled, forgetting Donut and pounding an acrimonious fist on the door.
"Come back in ten minutes!" came the muffled reply.
"If you're doing anything to screw with my stuff I swear I'm gonna shoot you in the face!" he roared, stalking off in the direction of the rec room. Donut watched him go, a hand clamped over his mouth to suppress his giggles. When he was sure the maroon soldier was out of sight, he knocked lightly on the door.
"Grif?" he whispered loudly. "He's gone now, can I come in?"
Rustle, rustle, click. The door opened slowly, one ocean-blue eye peering out of the crack before it was pulled completely inward. Grif held a disheveled appearance, but he grinned good-naturedly as he massaged a kink out of the back of his neck. "Come in quick, before Simmons notices," he ordered, pulling Donut in by a sleeve, then closing and locking the door behind him. "Now," he added, grinning wider. "There are some things you can help me with..."
