"Operation Lemon Squash is a go."

"Seriously, Jihoon, you couldn't think of a better name than that?" 

Jihoon shrugs. "Don't blame me, Mingyu chose it." He taps away at his noisy, old-school keyboard, pulling up the ship's security intel. He catches Jun in the corner of his eye, through the outdated VCR screen, dressed all in black while wheeling the large, rectangular cardboard box on a box carrier across the ferry's onboard car park.

"I thought we agreed on Operation Beans?" 

"No, Wonwoo," Seungcheol injects,"that's an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine."

Soonyoung gasps, halting in the middle of the third corridor on C Deck with Minghao trailing behind him. "I love that show!"

"Does it matter what the operation is called?" Jihoon sighs, rubbing his forehead to somehow combat the frustration bubbling in his stomach. It hasn't even been a minute, and he's already considering pulling the plug on his incompetent teammates. "Soonyoung, please stop getting distracted and just get to the vault. Jun, stop talking, there are crew members ahead."

"Roger that."

"Don't ever say that again."

Jihoon rests back in his comfy desk chair, tuning out the useless nattering through his earpiece and taking a large gulp of coffee. He repeats the comforting phrase: "Three more months, just three more months," in his head over and over, hoping it will help him gather the will to continue on in his line of work.

As much as Jihoon enjoyed the many occasions he's shared laughs and good times with the other six members of Unit 117 (though he'll only admit that while under considerable alcoholic influence), he takes the idea of serving and protecting his country as an intelligence agent more serious than he took his college entrance exam. Despite the fun he's had over the years with this team, he can't help but conjure feelings more bitter than his coffee - Unit 117 has gained a reputation of being the unit that was built on 'lacking' agents (basically, it's the unit of stupids who don't take their job too seriously). That would be the explanation to why the mundane projects, missions, and cases (read: heisting the government's collection of stamps from a ferry) were given to them - and Jihoon hates it. He may have positive sentiment towards the boys he's been partnered with for years, but from his first day, fresh from the academy at the ripe age of eighteen, to now, Jihoon's been waiting and waiting for a chance to be moved to a more respectable unit.

"So Jihoon..."

Jihoon hears his voice echo around his earpiece and groans.

"...since you're leaving us in a couple of months," Mingyu begins, his image portrayed striding confidently down a corridor on A Deck, "how about that drink we talked about a while ago?"

"Oh, God."

"Here he goes again."

"Mingyu, focus on the mission," Jihoon sighs, clicking away from the camera feed to avoid looking at Mingyu's wide, -eating grin.

"You're not answering the question," he intones, and Jihoon is about ready to smash a hole in his monitor.

"We never even talked about drinks, Mingyu," Jihoon scoffs, "stop making things up."

"We're talking about drinks now, though."

"I'm going to punch him."

"Jihoon, can you break the firewall on the lock on the vault room door," Minghao speaks, his streak of silence in the team discussion breaking, "and Mingyu, stop trying to get into Jihoon's pants, it's distracting."

"Jealous, much?" 

Jihoon's fingers patter away at his keyboard, tapping through code page after code page to aid Minghao. But, after moments of silence on his end, Mingyu chirps up again.

"I think we should, though, Jihoon," he says, voice casual and relaxed as he searches around the same corridors as Seungcheol and Wonwoo.

Jihoon closes his eyes, irritation seeping through his words as he answers: "Should what, Mingyu?"

"Go for drinks, y'know? It'll be fun, and since you're gonna be transferred to a 'better' unit - although if you ask me, our unit is particularly excelling - it'll be handy to take the edge off."

Jihoon rolls his eyes. "I'm busy," he mutters, trying desperately to focus his attention the smashing through the firewall.

"I didn't say when, though."

"Yeah, I'm busy all the time. Like, for the rest of my life, I'm not free."

Mingyu hmphed. "Well, that's just inconvenient."

"Take a hint," Seungcheol interrupts, "he's really not interested."

"Mingyu, watch that corridor," Jihoon continues, watching his teammate through the monitor, "you're getting close to the vault. Soonyoung, you marked the traps right?"

"Yeah, is the wall gone?" 

"Pretty much, I've disabled the alarms, which should make it easy for you to break it open."

"You know," Mingyu pipes, "I'm not that bad. An hour date with me wouldn't be horrible."

"I beg to differ."

"Mingyu!" Seungcheol hisses. Jihoon frowns at the monitor as Seungcheol jabbed his finger towards the floor under Mingyu's feet. "Be careful!"

"Relax, leader," Mingyu smirks, and Jihoon kind of wants to shove his fist through his face. "I'm always careful."

Mingyu trips, staggering over his own feet and landing one heavy sole on a spray-painted tile. "Oh."

"Oh my God," Jihoon exasperates, rubbing his forehead to aid the pain across his skull. "Oh my actual God, you're a ."

Around the deck, the lights cut out except for several red, flashing bulbs as an ear-splitting alarm reverberates across the ship.

"I think we should run..."

Jihoon throws several folders at the tall incompetence when he strolls into the office several hours later. His face, along with Wonwoo and Seungcheol's, were scuffed with dirt, and minor burns covered their exposed skin. "You're an idiot!" He cries, picking anything within arms reach to toss at him. "You're actually a dunce!"

Shielding himself from flying empty Chinese takeout boxes, Mingyu shouts back: "It wasn't my fault! You nattering in my ear was distracting!"

Jihoon breathes heavy in his livid heart. "Don't you dare pin this on me! You were told to be careful! Now boss' is going to have beef with all of us because you didn't watch where you were going!" Turning to his desk, he collects his coat and backpack with quick, resentful moves. "If your inept can manage it, please lock up before you leave. And try not to blow the damn place up!"

Before he can saunter out of the door, he's stopped with a call of his name.

"So, uh..." Mingyu begins, scratching his neck awkwardly.

Jihoon raises his eyebrows. "What? Spit it out."

"Drinks?" He smiles shyly up at Jihoon. "Saturday?" The latter has to grip the doorframe to stop himself passing out in vexation. 

He really, really cannot wait until he's transferred.