Suited {Eggsy x Reader} (Kingsman Fanfic)

Chapter 6

(Y/n) P.O.V.

Pointing to a newspaper heading clipping that's stuck to the wall in Harry's office, Eggsy asks. "To pee or not to pee?" I chuckle. "That was the headline the day after I defused a dirty bomb in Paris." Harry answers. I read the heading from another newspaper clipping stuck on the wall. "Germany – 1, England – 5." I point out. "Missed that game. I was breaking up an undercover spy ring at the Pentagon." I nod, impressed. Eggsy points to the newspaper clipping showing a photo of Prince Charles and Princess Diana's wedding. "My first mission. Foiled the assassination of Margaret Thatcher." Harry responds. "Not everybody'd thank you for that one." Eggsy jokes. "The point is, Eggsy, nobody thanked me for any of them. Front page news on all these occasions was celebrity nonsense. Because it's the nature of Kingsman that our achievements remain secret. A gentleman's name should appear in the newspaper only three times: when he's born, when he marries, and when he dies. And we are, first and foremost, gentlemen." Eggsy and I sit in chairs facing Harry's desk.

"That's me fucked, then. Well, it's like Charlie said, I'm just a pleb." Eggsy says. I scoff. "Nonsense. Being a gentleman has nothing to do with the circumstances of one's birth. Being a gentleman is something one learns." I nod. "Besides, Charlie is certainly no gentlemen. Remember the water prank?" I growl. He nods. "Yeah, but how?" Eggsy asks Harry. "Alright, first lesson. You two should have asked me before you took a seat. Second lesson. How to make a proper martini." Eggsy and I smile. "Yes, Harry." Eggsy says. "You know Harry, I was wondering," I start, getting his attention, "why two of us? And why me? It definitely seems you knew Eggsy's father more closely. And there is definitely something revolving around my mum." I say. It's been nagging at me. "There's exceptions to every rule. I chose two candidates because either of you could easily be excellent Kingsman. My relations to your parent do not effect my decision when it comes to what you have done in life." I nod, accepting this answer. For now. Eggsy places a hand on my shoulder. "Let's make martinis, eh luv?" I smirk.

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"So are you gonna teach us how to talk proper, like in My Fair Lady?" Eggsy jokes as we walk towards the tailor shop. "Don't be absurd. Being a gentleman has nothing to do with one's accent, it's about being at ease in one's own skin. As Hemingway said, 'There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. True nobility is being superior to your former self.'" Harry says as we enter the Kingsman tailor shop. "Now the first thing every gentleman needs is a good suit. By which I mean, a bespoke suit. Never off the peg. And Kingsman suits are always bulletproof. So let's get you measured, and then, whether you get the job or not, you'll have a lasting and useful memento of your time at Kingsman." Harry goes to enter the fitting room, but is stopped by the man behind the counter.

"I'm so sorry, sir, but a gentleman is completing his fitting. Fitting room two is available." He explains. "One does not use fitting room two when one is popping one's cherry." I stifle a laugh. "Perhaps I'll show you fitting room three while we wait." Harry decides, getting a knowing looks from the cashier. We enter into another fitting room and stand by the mirrors. "So we going up or down?" Eggsy asks smugly. "Neither." Harry responds. "This ain't it, in'it? I ask. "Of course not. Pull the hook on your left." I pull the hook, and the wall opens like a door. Weapons line the walls. "Ah, yes. Very, very nice." Eggsy says. "Now, you're going to need a pair of shoes to go with your suit." Harry walks over to a wall inked with various pairs of shoes, some men's dress shoes, others women's flats.

"An Oxford is any formal shoe with open lacing. This additional decorative piece is called broguing." Harry points to the different shoes. "Oxfords, not brogues." I notice. "Words to live by. Words to live by." Hard hands Eggsy the Oxford, and hands me a pair of the dark flats. "Try a pair. Your weapon scores are excellent, by the way." Harry walks to another wall, pointing to the umbrellas and guns as Eggsy and I try on the shoes. "These you're familiar with. And this is our standard-issue pistol. It's quite unique, as you'll see, it also fires a shotgun cartridge for use in messy close-range situations." Harry explains. "How do they feel?" Harry asks, referring to the shoes. "Yeah, good." Eggsy responds. I give a thumbs up. "Now do your very best impersonation of a German aristocrat's formal greeting." Eggsy stands, puts his finger on his upper lip and does the Nazi salute, making me laugh. "No, Eggsy." Harry sighs,