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“Knock knock.”
The rec room, which had been fairly quiet, somehow went even quieter. A few people glanced around, but most people avoided meeting his eyes.
“Knock knock.”
People were definitely avoiding him now, looking in the complete opposite direction. Wash sighed quietly. Sure, the jokes were terrible, but it was only going to be worse if they ignored him. “Who’s there?” Several people stared at Wash like he’d grown a second head, including one of his actual friends. York looked almost betrayed.
Wyoming sat up a little straighter, barely even reaching for the bandages that wound around his ribs. “Hawaii.”
“Hawaii who?”
“I’m great, Hawaii you?” Bad, yes. But at least he wasn’t looking quite so sour. He’d had a bad mission. It happened, sometimes. And Wash could understand how frustrating it could be when your weapon malfunctioned at a critical moment.
CT placed a hand on his shoulder as she left the room. She whispered “You’re going to regret that.”
There was another moment of silence, then “Knock knock.”
Wash almost didn’t answer, but Wyoming looked hopeful. It was a weird expression for the sniper. Too human. Too vulnerable. So Wash replied. “Who’s there?”
“Atch.”
That one sounded vaguely familiar. “Atch who?”
“Bless you!” Wyoming sounded cheerful.
York groaned. “Wash, bud, don’t encourage him.”
Wyoming scowled at York before turning back to Wash. “Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?” The three of them looked toward the door, where North stood in his civvies with a faint smile.
“Madame.” Wyoming sounded like he was about to laugh.
North came in, sat next to York. “Madame who?”
“Madame foot’s caught in the door!”
Wyoming chortled. Really, Wash could describe it no other way. North’s grin didn’t fade, and he nodded to Wash with a tiny hint of approval. A few more people slipped out of the room.
Wash beat Wyoming to the punch with a quick “knock knock” of his own.
“Jolly good, mate! Who’s there?”
“Cowsgo.”
York frowned at Wash. “Rookie, quit it.”
“Cowsgo who?” Wyoming acted as if York hadn’t opened his mouth.
Wash actually grinned when he said “Cows don’t go who, cows go moo!”
“Knock knock,” North chimed in. The last two stragglers left the room quickly.
York made a pained noise. Wash’s grin only got wider as Wyoming responded with a grin of his own. “Who’s there?”
“Helena.”
“Helena who?”
“Helena hand basket.” Wyoming’s mustache actually shook when he laughed. Wash had never noticed before then. Maybe he’d never seen Wyoming laugh.
“Knock knock.” Wyoming managed to get himself under control.
“Who’s there?” Wash asked.
“Alaska.”
“Alaska who?”
“Alaskanother question. Knock knock.”
York’s pitiful mutter of “dear god no” went ignored.
Well, maybe not totally ignored. North patted his shoulder sympathetically while Wash asked “Who’s there?”
“Ohio.”
“Ohio who?”
“Oh hi to you too.” Wash actually let out a little laugh at that one, if not for the joke itself then for the way that York seemed to want to melt into the couch for escape.
A few moments passed in silence. North looked from where York was resolutely not looking at anyone else to Wash, who was grinning and pink-cheeked. He nodded to Wash and said “knock knock.”
Wyoming had settled back against his chair, but still offered up “Who’s there?”
“Jesus christ!” York sat up straight, glaring between his two friends. “Really guys?”
“Jesus christ who?”
North chuckled. “ Jesus christ, open the door already.”
“I can’t win.” York slumped over, putting his face in his hands. “I’m in hell.”
Wyoming didn’t even let York build up a good sulk. “Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Felix.”
“Felix who?”
“Felix my lolly, I’ll kick his ass.” His accent really drove the joke home. North chuckled again, and Wash outright laughed. “Knock knock.”
Wash managed a “who’s there” between laughs.
“Will.”
“Will who?”
“Will you let me in?”
York sat up, back ramrod straight. North eyed him, but he said nothing as Wyoming started his next “Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Guess.”
“Guess who?”
“I said guess, Wash.”
They both laughed. York realized his only way out. “Knock knock.” The three other agents turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. He answered their silent question with a firmer tone. “Knock knock.”
Wyoming took the bait. “Who’s there?”
“Candice.”
“Candice… who?”
“Candice be the last knock knock joke?”
There was a moment of stunned silence before Wyoming chuckled. “Alright, mate. Beaten me at my own game. Good show.” York leaned back with a satisfied smirk on his face. Wash looked from Wyoming, who was relaxing in his seat with his eyes closed and an actual, honest-to god smile on his face, to North, who had a soft smile of his own. Maybe York wasn’t the only one with a satisfied grin that night.