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No. 77
Seems like a good enough excuse to start over with the more 'improved' version.

==

The engineer waited until everyone else was off doing their own post-victory celebrations before even entertaining the idea of making a move on the soldier. With the sterner man having a good drunken mellow going, it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

He gladly let the soldier throw one of his heavy arms over his shoulder and pat him roughly, all the while saying in his usual, over-the-top way how great it was to have a red-blooded Texan in his corner in the recent mission. The engineer returned the appreciative banter, cautiously wrapping his own arm innocently around the other man's upper body. It was a rare occasion for him to fully experience the shape and the feel of the soldier, so he secretly drank it in as he often did in these fleeting instances. The soldier's body was still hot from the fight, and the strength in that battle-hardened musculature was ever the more apparent in his drunkenness. The smell of his sweat and the beer on his breath were another feature of this teasing false intimacy that kicked at the engineer on a daily basis. Thankfully, the soldier hardly noticed the engineer's hand slowly feeling it's way down to around his waist. His body was so much harder than the engineer's comparatively short and stocky assemblage, and it swayed widely as they stumbled their way back to the barracks.

Being pleasantly buzzed himself, the engineer decided to skip formalities and get down to business. He didn't register entirely that there would be any kind of consequence to this plan; just a quick fuck before they passed out – no complicating things with words. The soldier was never good at listening, nor did he even seem to be capable of spinning a string of coherent thought for that matter. Besides, drunk as he was, he probably wouldn't remember anything in the morning anyway.

He skillfully undid the soldier's belt buckle and tried to keep the taller man steady along the walk, but the Soldier interpreted his struggle as horseplay and in an instant had stopped and put the engineer into a sleeper hold.

"A wise-guy huh?" he chortled and tightened his grip. The Engineer found his vision darkening, and had to think fast. When push came to shove, he was no match for a man that dedicated every waking hour to fighting. If he wanted to wear the soldier down enough to take advantage of him, the engineer couldn't let it end with the soldier leaving his unconscious body lying around outside until morning. He therefore concluded that the best course of action was to simply reach up into the soldier's now loosened coat and tickle his ribs with everything he had. Surprisingly, it actually worked; the soldier sprang off of him and reeled backward from the attack. The high-pitched yelp he made was priceless; only serving to excite the engineer even more. With the thought of the soldier possibly making more sounds like that at his prompting, the engineer planted his feet firmly as he could in his inebriated state and readied with open arms for another onslaught.

The soldier stumbled around momentarily before looking back and seeing the engineer's enthusiastic posturing.

"Come on! Ah'm gonna lay you out!" With plenty of liquid courage in his system, the smaller man didn't care so much about getting his ass handed to him so long as he could get his hands back on that muscular frame.

"Ya think so, huh? Well you won't get the best of me, private cowboy!" The soldier just took his coat off the rest of the way (apparently more concerned about it getting in his way rather than why it was falling off in the first place) and threw it behind him. Then after a brief review of his bearings, the soldier charged into the engineer in his standard, screaming way.

He slammed into him hard and they both fell to the ground, sending up a plume of red dust in the failing sunlight. The engineer hardly felt the impact on his back, more interested in maintaining his grip on the soldier's exposed, rock-hard shoulders barely sheathed under that white cotton t-shirt. He tried locking the soldier's legs, but the soldier again proved much faster and stronger than he anticipated; he soon found himself flat on his back with both wrists pinned at either side of his head.

"You wuss." The soldier now loomed over him with that toothy sadistic grin on his face, his breath blowing hotly into the engineer's face.

The engineer swiftly headbutted the soldier, his hard-hat making a loud crack against the soldier's uncovered nose and mouth. But the soldier didn't even loosen his grip, even though he was visibly stunned. He just shook it off and smiled again, this time with fresh blood trickling from his nose and staining his teeth.

"Is that the best you can do?!" he laughed.

Now realizing what he had gotten himself into, the engineer weaseled his hand out of the rubber glove that the soldier had such a firm grip on and used it to sock him more accurately in the jaw. This time the soldier reeled to one side enough for the engineer to follow through with a swift knee to his gut. That blow obviously hurt the soldier, but it wasn't quite enough to make him retract. The engineer kneed him again, this time as hard as he could. It made enough of a dent in the soldier's grip that the engineer could now put his back into pushing him off. The soldier sloppily swung and missed as he rolled further and further onto his side, then tried to wrestle the engineer's arms back, but by now had lost the leverage for that.

"Now ya see, THIS is what happens when you fight a MAN, son!" The engineer locked that flailing arm and tried to force his weight onto his opponent's chest. The soldier coughed and wheezed, but still looked as though he was enjoying every second of this; he kicked his legs and got the spring he needed to throw the engineer off a foot or two. The engineer landed on his side and took a moment to get his bearings, all the while the soldier was stiffly rolling back up. He dizzily shook his head and swayed a bit in his ascent, still taking a second or two on his hands and knees to see where the engineer had landed.

"Why don't we spar like this more often?" the soldier huffed and finally wiped some of that blood off of his face.

The Texan was now up and resting on his knee pads with his hands on his hips, catching his breath, but ignoring the aches and pains in lieu of that grin on the soldier's face. The man looked so happy, he didn't want to stop for anything.

"Ah was about to ask you the same thing!"
87 posts omitted. Last 50 shown.
>> No. 2338
Baby, don't give up. This fic is a goldmine right here. Because of you I freakin love Engi and Solly action. I'll draw whatever you wish honey:)

Please provide more!
>> No. 2341
>>88
Was it a laptop or a desktop? Are you sure it was the hard drive that died and maybe not the motherboard/processor?

You could possibly try taking the hard drive out of the old PC and installing it into your new pc as a slave driver. Hopefully SATA and not IDE... else you'd might have to purchase a combination cord depending on how "new" this new computer is for that to work. Worth a shot.

I concur with gamergirl.
>> No. 2343
>>90
Given that KGB talked about software made after 1999 (even if it's just a figure of speech), it's safe to say she has an IDE hard drive, as they didn't really get common until like 2005.

Anyway, yeah, if the hard drive isn't dead, you could check the internets (places like DealExtreme) for an adapter to let you hook up your HDD so you can grab your old stuff.

All the (public) TF2 stuff should be fukken saved by your fans anyway, right? RIGHT?
>> No. 2561
On his way to the compact shower the engineer would notice the soldier's handgun on the laminate sink counter. The manner in which it was happenstantially lying on it's side made it appear as though it wear pointing accusingly at him as he closed the door behind him.

The engineer pondered why such a treasured possession would have been left out in the cold, then saw himself in the mirror. With his hanging coveralls held up by his one hand and his flannel shirt ruffled, bloody and half-unbuttoned, he looked as though he had just been in a fight. And that bite made the first one look like a nibble. That damn soldier.

Once refreshed, the engineer dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, took his keys from his pants on the floor and walked past the soldier. He was still fully clothed, and still awkwardly stretched diagonally across the mattress, snoring like a sawmill. The engineer cautiously made his way out the door and towards the first aid kit that he had innocently left in the tuck, fairly certain that no one would be out at this hour, but keeping a good peripheral just in case.

Once he got to the driver side door open, he took the kit from under the seat and upon looking back up he saw that young clerk standing outside in her nightie, huddled close to a corner just outside the main office. She discretely lit a cigarette and immediately tried to dissipate the smoke upon her first puff by frantically waving her hand. She couldn't have been older than fifteen, so the engineer made the assumption that she was doing something that she shouldn't have been. He figured that he should just leave her to it, and tiptoed back to his door. Then he realized that although he remembered his truck key, he left his room key inside and was now locked out.

The half-naked engineer dropped his forehead against the door and let out a tired sigh.

He knocked on the door and waited. A moment later he would be greeted with the sound of a rifle being cocked. It was well known to him that the soldier always answered the door in this manner.

“STEP AWAY FROM THE DOOR!” the soldier shouted.

“It's just me, partner.” the engineer tried to keep his voice down, but decided to step away from the door anyway just in case. “Ah went to get the first aid outta the truck and Ah locked myself ou-”

“What's the password?”

“Password?! Now wait just a god-damned minute, mister! You never told me there was a password!”

There was a pause.

“Point taken.” the door swung open and the engineer was greeted by the helmeted soldier and the twin barrels of a rifle. The soldier acknowledged the engineer with a nod and stepped out, cautiously checking the right and left and rear for unseen danger.

“Hands where I can see them, maggot!” He caught that girl clerk in his sights and in an instant she threw her hands up, dropping her cigarette onto the ground.

“Dagnabbit! This ain't a war-zone, and that ain't no way to treat a lady, soldier!” The engineer smacked the soldier on the back of the head.

“Precautions, private! When you're this far away from the green zone, you can never be too careful!”

“Stand down, dammit!!” the engineer smacked the soldier on the back of the head.

“My apologies, ma'am!” the soldier dropped the business end of his weapon and waved upon the all clear. “Carry on!”

“Screw you!” The girl relaxed and shakingly picked her cigarette back up.

“Just what the hell do you think you are doing out here, private cowboy?! You are unnarmed and uncovered! You were practically ASKING for this injury!” The soldier turned his attention back to the engineer and pointed at that bite on his shoulder.

“But.... You did this.” the engineer still found humor in this somehow.

“...” the soldier was about to yell something else, but stumbled. “So I did.” He then pivoted to the side, stiffly presented arms, and made way for the engineer.

The engineer chuckled and went inside, giving the soldier a hearty pat on the arm. It was almost a sweet return to the old days of emotionally distant professional normalcy after the complete spontanious interpersonal meltdown and the whirlwind of gay sex.

“Mind if Ah ask a personal question, soldier?” Something occurred to the engineer, and what better time to ask than halfway down the road.

The soldier acknowledged him with an affirmative grunt as he turned back into the room and closed the door behind him, then started the task of making sure the door was locked and taking one last look through the blinds.

“You got a special lady waitin' for ya somewhere?”

The soldier instantly turned around and an awkward stare-down was initiated.

“Ah don't mean nothin' by it! Ah'm just askin' you straight up, partner.” the engineer shrugged to hide his fear.

“No sir.” the soldier broke away and leaned the rifle against the wall near the bed while he went about the business of removing his outer clothing for the night. Seemed strange that there wasn't some kind of self-righteous rant to justify that statement. But he didn't exactly sound sad either. The engineer sat down on the edge of the bed, still watching the soldier and struggling to interpret his behavior.

“Well, why not? You ain't such a bad lookin' buck...” The engineer absently opened the med-kit on his lap and felt around inside, all the while watching the soldier's torso bend and flex as first that shirt was peeled away, then his belt was addressed. He was confronted again with how much more 'rounded off' his own physique was in comparison to the soldier's.

“The field of battle is no place for a lady, private cowboy.” the soldier stated flatly and folded his trousers on the bed. “Even you should know that.”

“Yeah, I reckon it ain't.” the engineer went with that, finally looking down and finding some alcohol swabs. “So uh... Ah guess what Ah meant was, … have you ever? Ah mean – before you went to war?”

“Of course! Many women have been graced with my presence, private cowboy! They just can't resist a man of my strength and character!” The soldier proudly straightened and orated. “But LADY LIBERTY is my one true love, son. For her safety, I will forsake all others without hesitation!”

The stinging alcohol sanitizing that open wound stung like eight bitches on a bitch boat, but the engineer was more interested in getting a straight answer from that damn soldier.

“Have you ever been intimate with a woman, mister?” the engineer flatly addressed the subject.

“oh...” the soldier paused. “Sure, I have! One time I even got her bra off!”

The very thought of this man fumbling around with a woman's bra was more tickling than the telling evidence that he may have been a virgin.

“What's so funny, private?!” the soldier stood angrily with his feet apart and his hands on his hips.

“Don't tell me that you ain't never gone further than that!” the engineer started laughing. He had no idea how to cross examine the soldier without getting a half-truth on the facts of the matter. He wasn't even sure if he should feel bad for the soldier, or for any of the women who were 'graced' with the soldier's 'presence' whatever that meant.

“W-Have you?!” The soldier demanded.

The engineer's sides were aching, but he managed to control himself for the sake of being polite.

“Yeah – once er twice.” the engineer recalled those instances as though he were looking at someone else's life. “Prolly no where near the number of conquests that a ten-pointer like you woulda had...” He snorted, still struggling to stifle the laughter. Remembering his first time, and then the social aftermath at Tiny Bee High School the next day helped to slow the giggles substantially. “S'funny the kind of things people expect you to know when you're fresh outta the gate. Shoot...” It was much easier to look back on that now that he had a solid ten or more degrees under his belt than any of his classmates, but it wasn't exactly fun either.

“Women are a peculiar breed, private cowboy!” the soldier climbed under the covers as the engineer finished covering his shoulder with gauze. He took a moment to settle in, lying on his back and locking his hands under the pillow “They don't use logic like you and me. They'll do anything to get attention, and then once you give it to them, they act like they never wanted it in the first place! THAT'S what your problem is! You haven't got the PERSERVERANCE to REALLY get anywhere with women! The truth is that women don't know what they want! YOU have to be FIRM and TELL them what they want! That's your DUTY as a man! But NOW thanks to those PANSIES in Washington, women are getting the idea that they have some kind of CHOICE in the matter and that they're somehow smart enough to know better than a man! Can you believe that?! If GOD wanted women to have a choice in ANYTHING, he would have made them properly in the first place!”

The engineer just sat and stared at the soldier for a moment.

“Who needs women anyways?” the engineer said finally. He felt more free to play along in this instance than at any other.

“Yeah! All they're good for is making more men!”

--

The engineer would wake up the next morning at six thirty when the soldier shoved him out of bed and initiated his usual strict morning ritual by making sure that the engineer was fully awake;

“RISE AND SHINE, MAGGOT!!” he shouted and started his morning warm-up streches. “NEVER FACE THE DAY LYING DOWN!!”
>> No. 2562
“Yeah! All they're good for is making more men!”
I love you soldier 8|
>> No. 2564
Simply Beautiful. Absolutely loving the Soldier/Engie stuff. Thank you for gracing us with an update!
>> No. 2584
"...eight bitches on a bitch boat..."

Im going to remember this for the next time I complain about pain.
Also, I love this fic so much, you're writing is amazing! I eagerly await any more updates!
>> No. 2719
bamp
>> No. 2728
“But LADY LIBERTY is my one true love, son."
I began to choke. Demanding $20 in compensation.
>> No. 2740
I'm awestruck by your effortless ability to portray Engineer and Soldier, not only as distinctive, dynamic characters, but as real fucking human beings. That's something I tend to struggle with. I feel like, with my writing, I'm always looking at characters, and not into a window of another person's life. Fucking spectacular.

I'm also glad this isn't some Twilight-esque type relationship where Solly isn't just suddenly "tamed" by Engie - they just kind of learn how to interpret each other and communicate.

Even more than that, I'm glad that Engie isn't gratuitously kind and patient. He's probably my favorite character in the game (us Suthernerz gotta stick tuhgetha, pardner), and he DOES generally seem like the nicest one out of the guys, but he's still a mercenary, and he's got his berserk-button moments as well. Not to mention that certain delicious devious, and sometime callous side when it comes to handling someone as emotionally fragile\unstable as Soldier tends to be.

Friggin' love this. Consider a lot of the aspects in your story filed in my headcanon.

\end rant
>> No. 2816
http://tf2chan.net/fanart/src/130625054185.jpg
the planetoids are coming together
>> No. 2881
If you never update again I will be sad
>> No. 3198
Bump?
>> No. 3298
Please let there be more. I need more sweet helmet action.
>> No. 3299
GAWD DAMN IT, U GAIZ
>> No. 3300
SORRY, TWOREFINED. NEWFAG, DUNNO HOW TO SAGE OR WHATEVER.
>> No. 3333
>>104
NEVER BUMP FANFICS
JESUS
>> No. 3437
I never expected to like this pairing, but it's growing into an OTP the way you're writing them. Goddamn, you're on your way to being the next Marty.
>> No. 3443
>>106
Jusus Christ, I thought it updated
Fuck you
>> No. 3681
This is great. I am eagerly awaiting more.
>> No. 3682
Put sage into the email field! DAMN IT!
>> No. 3769
It took me waayyy to long to get back to this.

This already well established BLU territory had to be approached with caution; the engineer parked some distance off in the pine-covered hills and readied his gear. The rest of the team was undoubtedly already down there in the valley trying to poke holes in the enemy defense, making some way for their engineer to reach the nearest control point. It was pretty funny how BLU had the same habit of leaving such crucial strategic equipment just lying out in the open. Even so, attacking was far more dangerous than defending; the engineer would have to scuttle into a safe spot quickly and establish friendly re-spawn before any of the other men were killed. It was the best way to avoid them appearing hundreds of miles away at their previous base and being of very little use.
The soldier enacted his usual ceremony of strapping up his fatigues, donning his helmet, stiffly loading his shot gun, then his rocket launcher, then neatly arming himself with said weapons as well as a few hand-grenades (which the engineer had come to assume as being purely for decorative purposes) and then presenting arms to some imaginary superior and yelling “HOORAH!” at the top of his lungs, causing an eruption of scared birds from the surrounding trees.
“Let's see here...” The engineer unrolled that map of the proposed enemy base and lay it flat on the truck bed, securing the corners with a few heavy rounds and a lunch box. “Ah suppose we could go in this way since there's a...”
“ATTAAAACK!!” The soldier was already off – bounding at top speed down the hill and disappearing into the growth.
“Dagnabbit, you dumb son of a bitch!” the engineer abandoned his plan and hoisted up his tool box. “You're fixin' to get yourself killed, mister!” He started huffing and puffing after him.
“Set up base HERE!” the soldier stopped dead in front of the engineer, who collided with him and bounced backwards onto the ground.
“Godblessit!” the engineer landed hard and struggled to unpin himself from under that heavy toolbox.
“Just what in the hell do you think you are doing, private?! On your feet! DISPENSER HERE! TELPORTER HERE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?!” The soldier stomped and pointed at various spots on the ground. The engineer looked around – in his haste he hadn't noticed that they had arrived at a concrete retention wall, and the soldier was standing only a few feet away from an enormous storm drain – which more than likely led straight under the BLUs' base of operations. He supposed that the soldier wasn't entirely lacking in planning.
“Comin' right up.” The engineer set to work deploying a dispenser right off as the soldier then turned for the entrance. “An' try an' stay alive until Ah can get in there, okay soldier?”
“Understood!” The soldier saluted. Then he spun around, swung his rocket launcher over his shoulder and fired one over the wall. The resulting explosion on the other side shook the earth and sent a few more errant birds and small debris flying upward.
“What in the hell did you do that for?! You might as well be kickin' a damn hornet's nest!!” the engineer scrambled to finish the dispenser upon hearing some shouting from behind the wall as the explosion dissipated.
“Shock and awe, civilian! What kind of namby-pamby worries about a harmless hornet's nest when there's an entire army on the other side of this wall waiting to kill us?! Get with the program!!” The soldier wasted no time in pointing his weapon at the ground and firing it – using the explosive thrust to launch himself upward and over that retention wall.
“Dagnabbit...” the engineer watched the soldier disappear. Then quickly grabbed as much metal as he could when he started hearing more yelling and gunfire.

Mann Co. was notorious for supplying weapons of mass destruction and other unsafe and impractical technological wonders to just about anyone who had the cash, so the RED and BLU factions had grown mutually accustomed to operating under the assumption that they each would be utilizing identical arsenals, strategies, even the same mercenaries, which in itself was downright disturbing, but a detail often overlooked for the sake of everyone's sanity. At any rate, at this stage of their constant territorial skirmishing, the outcome of each battle now depended more on each man's basic attendance and sheer dumb luck than upon each member's skill or firepower. Destruction of property and frantic, bloody combat had become as drudging a routine as any nine-to-five that the men could have gotten instead. RED and BLU in fact had apparently been warring with one another for more than a century, and Mann Co had now become their exclusive mutual supplier. At this stage in their corporate histories, Mann Co's patented control points were simply manufactured en mass and then randomly placed on virgin land. RED and BLU had supposedly signed some contract years ago that required them each to pay a monthly fee for the opportunity to seize those pre-assembled points for their company's control, anyone who failed to pay their subscription would be shot on sight.

Over the past few weeks, however, a few subtle, but exploitable differences between the factions had begun to surface; BLU now outnumbered RED almost four to one, but a few of the individuals popping out of BLU spawn seemed to be a few rounds short of a clip. Obviously, some of their mistakes in tactical judgement could be attributed to the missing time syndrome to which neither side was immune. But the more extreme examples of behavior, such as inattentiveness, inexplicable lack of motor skills, and the occasional suicide had some RED members scratching their heads.

The engineer did not have anything to do with the invention of re-spawn, but he was responsible for maintaining the technology for his company. He understood that the process was extremely complicated, and of course, unimaginably expensive, so there was a limit to how many times each man could be re-created from stored information. Like all things, information when stored on magnetic hard disks degrades over time and repeated duplication. ONE inconsistency in the information, even something as seemingly inconsequential as a single binary character among qua-trillions could cause enormous flaws in the fabrication process of a human being. So to minimize risk, RED resolved that re-spawn only allowed for one of each man on the field at a time. BLU obviously didn't opt for this restriction, and now the consequences of that decision were becoming apparent.

RED engineer had to quietly make his way through the sewers in order to set up the exit for that teleporter in a good spot. The path was suspiciously clear, but the sounds of a raging battle above him suggested that his soldier was attracting all the BLU attention to himself. That old familiar dread now started to creep up on him again. He knew for a fact that the man's death would be his own damn fault at this stage, and it wasn't going to be permanent. But the soldier's death and his possibly missing out on the rest of this mission would not only be a major inconvenience to everyone, but the soldier would undoubtedly blame it on the engineer, and more than likely give him the cold shoulder again, if not beat him to a bloody pulp. The engineer usually didn't notice his hands shaking this much. Best not to think for the moment, just solve the problem.

The engineer deployed a teleporter just below a man-hole. He wasn't entirely sure where it lead aside from out and into the sunlight. After a quick peak, he found that there was a control point not too far away, but there were several BLU sentries already in place as well – he nearly lost his head when three of them opened fire.
“Dammit dammit dammit!” RED engineer angrily plopped back down and started heading back for that intersection he passed, hoping to find an alternate route, and kicking himself for giving away his position. He really should have brought that map with him.
>> No. 3770
Fan-fucking-tastic. That is all.Can't wait to see how the BLUs start acting.
>> No. 3782
Holy crap! I thought this was a completed fic, and now there's more! Christmas must have come early.
>> No. 3786
So happy to see more of this! I'll be honest - when I saw it on the first first page again I thought 'oh just another bumper' but NO, it really did update!
>> No. 3789
He saw some light at one end of the intersection and followed it until he came upon another intersection – an abrupt right turn at the apex of which was a small room whose two walls were occupied by some control panels and a blue mass which...

RED engineer ducked back into the tunnel and pressed himself flat against the wall at the sight of BLU figures. Hopefully he wasn't seen and he could possibly take them out in an ambush; he heard voices, but they sounded – preoccupied with something. RED engineer pulled out his shotgun as quietly as he could – taking a loose grip and lifting slowly, then pulling the hammer back, waiting for the click. At it's sound, he swung out and around to meet the enemy with both barrels pointed right at them.

BLU soldier and BLU engineer were both pressed upon one wall with their backs to him. RED engineer took aim - a whole two seconds passed before he realized that they weren't interested at all in the control panel; as in their pants were down and BLU soldier was grinding BLU engineer into next Tuesday.

RED engineer almost lost his nerve. This was beyond looking at himself – this was looking at everything he hated about his own sexuality. There was always a possibility that he could give in to his urges at THE worst possible opportunity, but he never really figured out what the worst possible opportunity could have been until now. To add insult to injury, he found himself examining the possibility that he could have awakened the same potential in the soldier. He would have remained blissfully unaware that THAT kind of irresponsibility could exist until he saw THIS. Even now, as they began to notice him, he felt that he was spending too much precious time looking at their bodies pressing into each other.

“There but by the Grace o' God!” RED engineer fired once, a shotgun blast from two feet away was powerful enough to blow off the top half of the BLU engineer's head.

BLU soldier spun around, springing into action so quickly that RED engineer almost didn't register that he turned back into the RED spy. His pants were still down, however, and the smell of sex and blood in the air should never sit right with anyone anyway.

“LORD almighty!” RED engineer dropped his arms down and turned his head completely around to avert his eyes.

“How did you know it was me?” RED spy asked calmly and pulled his pants up, but didn't bother trying to fasten them before he pulled out his cigarette tin. “Zere is an er.. inconsist'auncie, in my technique? No?” That smokey, but somehow still silky smooth voice never hitched even as he inserted a cigarette into his lips and lit it.

“Nope. Ah didn't know... GA! Pen that darn thing up, mister!” The Engineer started to turn back around, but his eyes went straight for the other man's private parts.

“Ah – zee comparison of my penis to a presumably large barnyard animal – running rampant and requiring physical restraint... hon hon hon!” The spy threw his head back and laughed that usual, first throaty, then snorty laugh. “Laborer, your colorful rural colloquialisms – zey amuse me so!”

“Quit flirtin' with me and do somethin' about all them sentries up top, French fry!”

“And now, I am zee greasy fried stick of a potato...” The spy frowned and zipped up his pants finally. “Zis new assessment … it causes me such pain...”

“...right here.” RED soldier took RED engineer's hand and pressed it into the open chest of his flack jacket, so that skin touched skin.

“You are sittin' on a keg o' dynamite, spy.” RED engineer immediately pointed his shotgun at RED soldier's face with his free hand. RED soldier changed back into RED spy and he released RED engineer's arm.

“Is just a little bit of joke to lighten the mood, monsieur. A low-brow such as yourself would normally relish such crude humor." RED spy huffed and went on his way. "Zee machines are most vulnerable without ze builder ... and so I thought to myself – why not have a little fun? You working types are so simple-minded. It is like er... how you say... the cat playing with the mouse." The spy disappeared into the tunnel, leaving his engineer both confused and completely numb inside.
>> No. 3790
Holy shit, two updates so close together? You just made my day, KGB.

Now I'm actually going to go read them. I just had to express my extreme happiness first.
>> No. 3793
114 That is some excellent characterization there, of both RED Engie and Spy, goddamn. Great job.
>> No. 3801
This is just too AWESOME!
I couldn't learn 'cause I had to read this great fic!
>> No. 3813
At the beginning of his new career some time ago the engineer had devised a simple, linear protocol for his sentry guns which dictated their behavior in combat – detect target – shoot target, etc. But since the first prototypes detected targets with motion detection, many days and weeks of collateral damage and testing would then result in hours upon hours of mechanical modifications (cameras and CPU's instead of motion sensors and mechanical triggers) and data entry – data which would allow the sentry distinguish a BLU target from it's surroundings, and then take action toward that target accordingly. Of course, this tinkering eventually led to the engineer's supposition that he would need to work in a way for information to be recorded by the sentry through means aside from a cable jack and a keyboard, and then equip the thing to automatically process said information into it's behavior protocols. Building his sentries with a capacity to learn was more of a move towards convenience; manually entering all those lines of script was about as fun as watching paint dry on a hot Texas afternoon. What really counted in the field was real-time tactical input, be it from voice command prompt, or from other sensory stimuli. By now these machines had the science of killing advanced as such that no feeling human being could come close. They worked with perfect precision and tireless execution; if they couldn't get a lock on an enemy's head, they would take out their legs. There was no fear involved, no sadism; just target neutralization. Independent problem solving. To the engineer it was a beautiful thing.

RED engineer frantically repaired the sentry shielding him from heavy gunfire. RED pyrotechnitian was diligently throwing huge plumes of flames in all outward directions at their furious BLU attackers and kicking away the occasional grenade. The dispenser behind them was keeping them intact, but each of those $200 custom rounds was worth three of the sentry's comparatively dinky 50 caliber rounds. After several minutes of onslaught where-in one or two scouts or spies would succumb, the engineer finally re-adjusted the twin rotary barrels with a rough shove.

“Take down those damn medics first, dummy!” he shouted over the din. That sentry beeped it's acknowledgment and shot a line of metal slugs into a BLU medic. The much higher pitched German screaming over the bellowing laughter of those two heavies offered little comfort as they came closer, but once the medics were down, each of those burns and unhealed bullet-wounds actually started to count in their favor.

One of the heavies died as often expected; the Russians were never known to back down peacefully, and they usually lacked any kind of strategy aside from simply advancing, using their bulk to form a wall with their big ol' sausage fingers holding down the trigger all the while. But the second, out of bullets and his now shattered legs collapsing under him, let out a final roaring shout and threw his minigun forward, a simple innovation which caught the engineer off guard. Those huge impractical weapons weighed well over five hundred pounds even without all those enormous rounds loaded. There was no question that the little RED men needed to dart backward and watch helplessly as their sentry was smashed.

“SENTRY DOWN!!” The engineer shouted over the deafening noise now encompassing this control point. He pulled his shotgun and took aim at the Russian still stubbornly crawling toward the point.

“I AM COMING FOR YOU!!” That huge man was like something out of a nightmare – aflame, bloody, mangled, on his belly, but still dwarfing the engineer and eying him intently, showing his grinning maw like a hungry hell-bear. The engineer shot him in the face and he finally collapsed at his feet.

“Gotcha, Pork-drippin's!” the engineer huffed and wiped the curtain of sweat and blood from his brow.

“EXCELSIOR!!” At the sound of another approaching battle-cry, the engineer quickly ejected the empty shell casing and took aim at a flaming ball of BLU soldier. He dropped him with two shots, then turned his attention back to that sentry, which might as well have been a pile of scrap underneath a boulder.

“Dammit...” the engineer was still catching his breath, but at least he still had that dispenser up and the control point now blinked into red under his feet. No sense in crying over spilled milk.

“ALERT! Our second control point has been captured!” BLU's administrator sounded oddly familiar as she usually did.

The RED engineer let out a sigh of relief, knowing that the point was now locked down for RED. Two down, one more to go.
The RED pyrotechnitian raised his flamethrower over his head and celebrated in the usual manner – dancing in place and laughing like a man possessed. Then a baseball flew out of nowhere and bounced hard off of his forehead. It didn't render him unconscious, but the loud groan and immediate cradling of his head indicated that he was momentarily stunned – possibly blinded.

“THAT'S RIGHT! It's BONKIN' TIME, chuckleheads!” A BLU scout shouted from a rapidly shrinking distance.

“ALERT! THE FINAL CONTROL POINT S BEING CONTESTED!”

“Well it's about damn time...” the engineer shot at that BLU scout, emptying the shotgun into the kid's chest. Then there were three again. “Aw hell! Let's git along now!” he holstered his shotgun momentarily to pack up. The pyro shook his head and acknowledged the engineer with a defensive wall of flames and a few muffled words of resolve. Once loaded up, the engineer immediately started scuttling for control point number three, the pyrotechnitian running backwards and covering their rear with a wide cone of fire.

At the scream of an incoming rocket, the pyro quickly grabbed one of the engineer's shoulder straps and yanked him around a corner, saving the both of them from the ensuing explosion. The engineer stumbled momentarily, trying to get his bearings, and the pyro simply shoved him forward, his muffled voice still urgent, but reassuring with one hand pointing straight ahead.

“Thanks, partner!” The engineer nodded and got back to hauling ass for the next point, which, judging from the red flash of another explosion, was just yards away around another corner.

“..I AM ON FI-AARR!” That BLU soldier screamed in pain and the RED pyro laughed maniacally as he dowsed the man in flames.

“Get on ze point, dumkopf!” The RED medic joined them from an intersecting path, taking a position between them.

“Where else would Ah go, doc?” the engineer huffed.

“Why, to HELL, of course!” The medic's voice suddenly changed.

“SPY!!” the engineer yelled, quickly dropping his gear in favor of his pistol and spinning around to take aim. But in that fraction of a second, the pyro had already been fatally stabbed and the spy slipped out of visual range just as the engineer fired his first shot. “WHY - YOU - LOW - DOWN DIRTY - GUTLESS - COWARD!!” the engineer shouted and fired almost the entire clip trying to hit that invisible spy, and finally got him at the last one.

“That oughta learn ya.” the engineer reloaded and holstered his smoking pistol. He looked at the body of the pyro, lying face-down a few feet away. There was a time when he would try to apologize for not saving him in time, but these days there was no sense in wasting his breathe on a final farewell that wasn't truly final. He hoisted his gear back up and started off again up a steadily rising hill. The new exit of that teleporter wasn't going to deploy itself.

Even with RED medic and heavy artillary pushing through with that Uber-charge, the team still had their hands full; there were plenty of BLU to go around and the scene that the engineer came upon was a massive cluster fuck of explosions, gunfire and burning bodies. He positioned himself on a spot overlooking point number three and unpacked that dispenser first thing, then the teleporter, then finally a new sentry.

“Somebody's sappin' my dispenser!!” He heard some electrical discharge and angrily turned his wrench upon another invisibly spy. It didn't take but a second for metal to meet skull this time – that yellow bellied son of a bitch could only move as fast as his relative mass and velocity would allow, after all.

Then back to work again, pumping up that sentry. He took out a soldier and a demolition or two, then another set of medic and heavy with a newly added rocket launcher. There was so much blood on the ground, all those blue uniforms stuck out like sore thumbs. Of course it became overwhelming again pretty quickly when a BLU soldier launched himself out of range and came screaming back down towards him. In a panic, the engineer fired his shotgun, but missed. The BLU soldier landed and tried to hit him with a shovel, but the engineer managed to duck. Then the soldier was suddenly shot with a single bullet between the eyes and he fell to the ground in a heap.

“DIS-MISSED!” RED sniper took a moment to mockingly salute with a wide grin.

“Nice shootin' there, partner!” The engineer straightened and tipped his hard hat to the man now standing on top of the dispenser behind him.

“Wot kind of sniper would I be if it wasn't? A DEAD ONE, that's wot.” The sniper cocked his weapon, shot, cocked, and shot again in the span of that sentence. “HA! Would ya lookit that! He's bleedin' gravy!” he laughed at a chain reaction started by his bullet striking a heavy right in one eye, who alarmingly did not die instantly, but rather started spinning his minigun in all directions, crippling his own medic as well as a few other BLUs in his panic.

“YEW! YES YEW!! STAND STILL LADDY!!” RED demolition guffawed, sloppily ran up behind the BLU heavy, and shot him up with sticky bombs. With a swift boot to the seat, the RED demo sent the BLU heavy careening into a few more of his own team mates and blew up the lot of them. “YER ARSE IS GRASS AN' AE'M THE GRASS-MAN! ...PUNK!!” he slurred.

“NICE WASTE OF BLOODY MUNITIONS, YOU SPINNIN' ONE-EYED YOBO!!” RED Sniper waved and yelled.

“YOO KIN TAKE A SPIN ON ME NOB, YA WHOORE!” RED demolition yelled back and grabbed his junk provocatively at his Australian team-mate. “OH Ae kin see ya lickin' yer lips! GO ON, DRINK I' IN WHILE YA CAN!!” then he caught fire and started shooting off his sticky bomb launcher at anything that moved. The BLU's avoided him for the most part, but the explosives had been deployed non-the-less.

“Good night, Irene!” the Engineer looked on at the windows of various buildings blow out from the RED demolition's projectile explosives, unable to help a chuckle at that mess; a BLU sniper flew out of one window, a BLU engineer out of another.

“MEDIC!!” the RED soldier's voice rang the loudest to the RED engineer up on the hill. He was shot up pretty bad, but still advancing for the point – literally digging his way across the BLU field with that trench shovel. He was possibly out of ammunition, but he often resorted to hand-to-hand combat whether the necessity existed or not; swinging that shovel in what looked like a frenzied manner, but every swing landed a deliberate hit to an enemy skull or midsection. That damn soldier was an odd, masterful madman – jamming the handle of that entrenching tool into the awaiting barrel of a BLU rocket launcher, causing it to explode, but ignoring the shrapnel and using that BLU soldier's freshly headless body as a springboard up and onto the point.

“ALERT! Our control-point is being captured!”

Almost everything was on fire down there; RED demolition eventually succumbed to two BLU pyros that managed to escape his grenade launcher and slam an ax into his chest. With their quick footed masters, BLU flamethrowers seemed to be causing most of the problem – except for one standing out from the group with his face to the wall like a statue with one of his gloves on his head. Then his head exploded. RED engineer didn't register the loud POP right next to his head until

“Crikey, it's like they don't even care anymore.” RED sniper reloaded his rifle.

“Let's cull the herd, shall we?” RED engineer nudged RED sniper with his elbow as he cocked his shotgun.

RED sniper often bragged about how he learned how to make full use of his natural senses from bush-men, and for that reason he never had a need for a spotter. But he was never heard complaining about having a good nest and a second set of eyes and ears – in the mist of it anyway.

RED pyrotechnics finally materialized on the teleporter and braced for a moment, there was a lot to see and fear here.

“Git along now, partner! We're almost done here!” the engineer turned around to meet him with a smile in between shots. The pyro gave him the muffled 'aye aye sir' and took off down the hill, setting fire to a row of BLUs.

“WOA WOA! What's goin on here?!” RED scout popped out of the teleporter almost immediately afterwards.

“Shut up and get on that point down there!” RED sniper obviously getting irritated with the amount of distraction.

“You heard the man! Hop to it, Jackrabbit!” RED engineer pushed the scout off the platform and shooed him down the path that the pyro had just created.

There was a crack from a high-powered rifle some distance off, followed by a high-pitched scream near the point. “Take THAT, you German whore!” The BLU sniper that killed the RED medic was standing on top of an empty train car and sounded different – like he had his nuts taped up or something. He also appeared to have a pony tail and … dark colored lipstick.

RED sniper took him out easily, but a shudder still overtook him. “Thanks for givin' away your bloody position, wankah!”

“OHH NOOOOOOO!!” That kind of desperate sound coming from the RED heavy over the noise of his gas-powered rotary gun meant that with the medic down, he was having to go back into his berserk-kamakaze routine for keeps. For a man that supposedly hated everyone, he sure got awfully upset whenever the medic was killed. But the engineer had seen the man get equally upset over missing that ice-cream truck the previous week.

“Ah gotta move this gear up!” RED engineer turned for his dispenser and poked the sniper perched on top of it. Without the medic, RED was doomed to failure under these conditions.

“Right-o.” The sniper hopped down and started loping off for the water tower.

“Keep them BLU fairies off my back.” The engineer gave that sentry a pat and it abruptly turned to him, pausing to point it's sensors directly at him for a solid second or two. Strangely there was no standard beep that would indicate orders received.

“Now don't you give me that look!” The engineer had been seeing a lot more of this 'off' behavior ever since he had started introducing human interface protocols. “Our boys need some dog-gone help!” He hurriedly packed up the dispenser and hoisted it up.

The sentry started beeping up a storm and whipped it's barrels around in all directions, almost as an indication that there was some kind of flaw in the engineer's logic of leaving it on such a conspicuous platform. It was a pantomime that it must have learned from the pyrotechnic at some point. The engineer began to regret introducing it to the concept of self-preservation.

“DAMMIT! Ah built you to do a damn job, understood?!” The engineer gave the sentry a kick and it quickly collected itself – beeping twice and pointing itself firmly toward the point. “That's what the hell Ah thought, ya over-grown pop-gun!” He started down the hill at the best speed he could muster with that heavy load.

The control-point was only a few yards away, but the ground between it and the engineer was a mine field. The engineer less than gracefully just started running for the point weaving through bodies and grenades, the sentry on the hill taking out what it could in his path – and a sniper or two that were out of sight save for the trajectory of their bullets. He could feel BLU bullets smacking the dirt around his feet, missing him by inches; his own sentry never missed. Everything it fired upon yelped or exploded. Then a stray from some distance off slammed into his arm, then another grazed his ear. A BLU rocket missed him and blew a crater into the ground behind him, the force of the blast almost knocked him flat on his face. He stumbled, but did his best to ignore the wounds and just run. No sense in sweating over near-misses. RED Scout and pyro had already gotten trapped and gunned down by a big BLU sentry, but RED heavy and soldier were now on the point; the indicator light at their feet fluctuated between red and blue as they stood back to back fighting off BLU after BLU that bore down on them. Heavy turned that sentry into swiss cheese, but looked like he was really suffering from the heat and strenuous cardiac activity as he often did toward the end of a mission. That damn soldier never slowed down; his being covered head to toe in red made it hard to tell how much was his – even if it was, he would never show anyone any openings, no weakness.

“Dispenser goin' up!” The engineer shouted and threw threw his gear forward, the box fell open on the ground just a few inches from the point and the dispenser started unfolding itself on it's own. As soon as his hands were free, the engineer pulled his shotgun, there was barely a moment to catch his breath before he had to use it. Artificially accelerated healing was always a strange feeling – the sharp pain of open wounds shrinking into dull nausea. His heart pounding out of his chest from all this adrenaline wasn't much help either. He almost lost track of where he was, but in the midst of emptying his gun, everything started slowing down.

“ENGINEER IS CREDIT TO TEAM!!” The RED heavy artillary took in a deep breath and threw a clenched fist into the air as that pink mist started washing over him. Sasha started shooting air, so the big man just used her as a 500lb+ extension of his fist, smashing her down on a BLU pyro, who flattened almost instantly as though he were made out of paper.

“YOU SORRY SACKS OF SCUM CANNOT HURT ME! I DO NOT HAVE TIME TO FEEL PAIN!!” The RED soldier straightened up like someone had just shoved some fresh batteries into his back. He threw his shovel up over his head with both hands and brought it down onto a BLU soldier's head with a scream, cleaving down the middle of his enemy's helmet and issuing a fountain of blood. The spade stuck, so he kicked the now lifeless BLU soldier's body to the side to free it. “COME HERE, SALLY!” With a laugh he then swung the spade flat against the face of a BLU medic that was trying to come at him with what looked like a curling iron for some odd reason.

By the time the RED engineer heard that telltale electrical discharge, a BLU spy hand already slapped a sapper on that dispenser and had stabbed him in the back. Unlucky for that spy, he missed his spine and lungs; RED engineer cried out at four inches of steel plunging into his shoulder, and his knee-jerk response was to whip out that twenty pound wrench and start swinging. He landed one hit, and he heard a grunt, but the invisible man was far from finished. RED engineer received another cut, this time landing just outside his collar bone, again not causing enough immediate damage to stop him from fighting back. He swung low and hit the spy in the leg, judging from that snapping sound. He followed the sound of the man's pitiful screams in order to more accurately strike his head until the spy's cloaking device stopped working, revealing the bloody mass that he had created. RED engineer's wounds stopped closing; the engineer's lung had been punctured, and he was now finding it harder and harder to breathe in. The dispenser was down.

“You wanna capture my point?!” BLU scout ran up and tried to hit him with a bat, but RED engineer had just enough left in him to swing back at him, a loud clank rang in the air when their weapons collided. “You can't capture my point!” BLU scout came in again, this time hitting RED engineer in the gut. “What the fuck are you thinkin', man?!” BLU scout knocked him down even further with a hard strike to his back. “BONK!” and again.

RED engineer reeled from the impacts, but used his first returning sense to grab that cotton t-shirt, pull BLU scout down to his stooped level, zero in on that face, and smash his forehead right into it. BLU scout fell backward and RED engineer stood over him, gripping his wrench, slippery with blood in both hands. Once he was satisfied with the kid's neutralization, he turned his attention back to that dispenser without a second thought. The sapper came off no problem, but immediately most of the machine's inner workings actually needed to be replaced, and the RED engineer was miles away from shop. He did what he could, trying to re-wire the thing's power source and at least get that healing tank back online, but it was completely fried, and his hands just weren't doing what he told them to. Every time he breathed out, blood clogged his windpipe and he could no longer breathe air back in.

“HAIL COBRA!!” A BLU soldier fired a rocket.

With an angry scream, RED soldier ran off the point and brandished a shovel.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?! GET ON POINT!!” RED heavy roared angrily at the retreating soldier, but could not let his fists stop moving.

RED engineer, still preoccupied with trying to fix that dispenser heard a clank, then felt himself being jerked away from his work. He didn't feel much after that or see much more than red, but he could still hear at least one explosion and the heavy calling someone stoopid over and over.

The engineer tried to get his bearings, but he wasn't sure if he was even standing anymore. All this water was making it mighty hard to even stay upright – and it was freezing to top it all off. As soon as he caught sight of the surface he started paddling for it, but his injuries wouldn't let him. In this state, he must have missed how the place flooded this bad, and how he came to be by himself all of the sudden. Just as he had come to accept his eventual drowning, a dolphin jetted towards him – an honest to god dolphin clear as day. Somehow the engineer thought he heard the word 'maggot' in all those squeals and clicks as it swooped in and grabbed his arm in it's mouth. Didn't seem to be trying to hurt him, though – it just grabbed hold and started swimming even harder in a straight upward thrust. Even though it hurt, the engineer wrapped his body around the sleek animal, eventually finding a grip on it's dorsal fin for dear life against the pressure of the water rushing past them as they approached the light of the surface.

When they reached the surface, it suddenly didn't matter that the engineer's lungs were full of blood. He coughed until the air rushed in and stayed there, as though he had taken his first breath in a week.

“Thanks, mister.” The engineer patted the dolphin, but was saddened to see the ground coming back up at him as the water receded.

“Dumkopfs.” RED medic administered treatment to the engineer draped over the RED soldier's back.

“YOU FAILED!!” The administrator scolded over the loudspeaker. What followed was an immediate uproar of both cheering and pitiful cries for mercy as the BLU company scattered. Demolition and Pyrotechnics were already celebrating – locked at the elbows and dancing in a circle, shooting off fire and grenades without regard to anything but the expression of their hard-earned victory. A few happy cracks from a sniper rifle being fired into the air could also be heard.

“RUN COWARDS!!!” RED heavy's voice rang triumphantly over all others from the control-point as he started laughing and cleaning house with his fists.

“Quit screwing around and finish the fight, men!” RED soldier abruptly dropped RED engineer and spun around to shout at the rest of his team on the ground. “NO mercy! NO prisoners! Women and children first! I want this perimeter secured and clean enough to eat off of... I'm thinking ribs...potato salad...” he carried on barking orders as he marched down the hill, ignoring the little aftershocks and mercy killings that were happening around him for the sake of maintaining that stiff march and that nonsensically confident string of commands. The engineer rolled back up onto his feet and dusted himself off, all the while reassuring himself that the soldier probably had no idea who he was talking to either.

“AW MAAAN!!! How could that fat bastid cap the point instead of me?!” RED scout had apparently just re-spawned on that teleporter, and he looked like he might cry.

“I vas going to ask you the same question, useless svinehund!” RED medic snarled at him.

“Yeah, I love you too, deutch-bag.” the scout's mood lifted when he saw BLU's running away. “Hey where are you chuckleheads goin'?! I'm just gettin' started with my battin' practice over here!” He zipped after them with his trusty bat.
>> No. 3814
Oh gosh, you're updating again!
You have no idea how much this makes my week/month!
>> No. 3827
“YEW! YES YEW!! STAND STILL LADDY!!”
I fucking love you
>> No. 3833
Hah I like the curling iron reference.
>> No. 3834
Oh my god. I might have a heart attack if you continue updating so quickly! A good heart attack!
I love you and I love this story and I love learning sentries.
>> No. 3851
jesus christ this is a good week to be a helmet fanboy

asdfasdf
>> No. 3857
I love this story so much you have no idea. I found it just recently read the whole thing! I'm loving it all please keep it coming.
>> No. 3941
My apologies for the bump, but after reading the fic that was at the top of this board, I had to come bump FUNTIMES because it is something anyone seriously looking to write about Engineer and Soldier should take notes and learn from, goddammit.
>> No. 4108
I seriously have no idea where I'm going with any of this - it's like I'm creating some kind of neurotic fantasy world that's just loosely based on TF2 at this point.

Over the course of that blazing afternoon, subcontracted RED construction crews were called in and moved quickly through the compound. They unceremoniously cleared the debris and finished up their repairs with a fresh coat of red paint. All the while a few of the locals would wander onto the site. Most appeared unmoved, casually driving up and watching the activities with binoculars. RED soldier obviously did not allow this; as soon as he caught sight of them he ran after each one – kicking over their coolers and beating them senseless with their fold-up lawn chairs. Whether they were BLU spies 'disguised as' suburban families with children or the elderly or not, RED soldier could not take risks when dealing with 'commie terrorist sleeper cells'. As for the angry local environmentalist group storming the front gate with picket signs, the administrator handled them with poise and diplomacy – and a fire hose.

There was no industrial incinerator on site, so the pyrotechnic just gathered all the mangled bodies together in big piles and burned them outside. It would not be so lonely a job as it normally would be, since a good number of the RED contractors were cousins and nephews of his. It would not take long for a radio to be plugged in and the air would be filled with the festive sounds of a Mexican music station as well as those of heavy machinery, clinking hand tools, and crackling bonfires.

The remaining BLU staff were either killed as they tried to escape or captured and retained for questioning and/or medical experimentation. Obviously, the regulations laid out in the Geneva Conventions could hardly be practically applied to the internal proprietary and competitive practices of private companies. Or at least, that was the card most often played in court.

Recommissioning enemy bases happened fairly often – as in some bases would be RED for a few days and then BLU and then RED again by the end of that week, depending on the relative value of that location. The value of course, changed erratically according to climate, politics, random executive whims, etc. And though the men on the ground were free to make their own judgments, they were discouraged from asking questions – just do what they were told and they would get a pay-check. That was a fine deal for most of them; they were already used to the idea that out on the battlefield, in the bush, the mean urban streets, down in the belly of some machine, thinking, or talking too much got you killed. Having feelings got you into even worse things than that. The perfect example was presented to the RED engineer on a silver platter today. Just when you thought you knew where the line was, you could always count on the french to point out just how pitifully naive your assumptions were.

The engineer brought the truck around and started salvaging the remains of machinery peppering the place. BLU engineer obviously had the same number of degrees as his RED counterpart – they were both copies of the same person after all. But the BLU hardware had just enough tiny shortcomings in the craftsmanship to really rub RED engineer the wrong way while he was salvaging them. It used to be that all he needed was his little wiring kit and some red spray paint, but nowadays he might as well be salvaging old tin cans. Maybe it was just the stress of the workload – or that thing he saw in the lower decks that afternoon. That scene seemed to be sewn into the insides of his eyelids – growing even more grotesque with each recollection. He knew that he was looking at a mirror image and so in BLU engineer he saw all those awkward, apelike qualities and they caused him to examine himself. He knew that he was hairy and pudgy and clumsy looking, but seeing the flesh jiggle right there in front of him made it all the more revolting. And the look on that man's face, pressed sideways against that panel, his heated breaths condensing on the cold metal made his stomach want to turn inside out. His face was beet red and speckled with beads of sweat and his lips were pulled back from his teeth as though he were smiling and grimacing at the same time. He didn't like the idea that he probably made a similar face when the soldier fucked him the night before – it just looked as though the BLU engineer was enjoying that pounding a little too much. In his experience, RED engineer knew that 'too much' was a relative term, but hearing himself whimper under the forceful thrusts of a larger man; actually relishing the act of surrendering the most vulnerable part of himself to anyone, soldier or otherwise, was just too much for him at that moment. There was no good way to explain it; deep down he wanted to know how in the hell they decided to fuck right then and there – what was said beforehand, and why the engineer just gave into him completely like some innocent schoolgirl. Now he knew that it was RED spy the whole time, but at the time he didn't. At that time he didn't care if it didn't matter and that it would have been a more sensible strategy to kill the BLU soldier first. He just hated that BLU engineer that much at that moment. Even after the spy told him that he was just taking yet another opportunity fuck with him, the engineer found himself questioning why his soldier even kept indulging him. At first he wanted to think that the hand-job really was just that good, but there was always a nagging doubt in the back of his mind. It couldn't have been a mutual attraction, but it was beyond curious at this point. Perhaps it was obligation, pity, or some other bizarre, nonsensical reasoning that was far beyond his understanding. Still, he took comfort in the soldier silently patrolling a twenty foot or so radius around the truck while he worked, despite the fact that the base had been fully secured and he already had a sentry mounted on the truck bed just in case.

This tender moment would only last for so long before the scout came along and started a mock parade behind the soldier singing 'what can you do with a dirty soldier'. The soldier was startled at first by the noise, but was quick to spin around and try to backhand the scout across the face. When he missed, he then proceeded to chase the scout around in a circle, all the while pelting him with insults and gruesome threats.

“Ooh! I'm real scared! What's the matter? Can't you see where you're goin under that lid of yours?” The scout darted around him, smacked his helmet right off of his head, and kept on running. “Oops! Look at that! Come on man! Look at this! You seein' this? I'm runnin' circles around ya!”

“You are in a big fat hurry to get your ass kicked, private!” The soldier shouted and kept grabbing for the scout as he mockingly dangled himself in front of the thicker man, hopping backward at the last second before each strike.

“Missed me! Oop! Almost got me! Come on, retard, you can do it! AWW! You are TERRIBLE!!”

“If you know what's good for you, you will surrender my helmet this instant!”

“Oh this? You want this?” the scout waved the object and jogged a wide circle around the soldier, who had stopped and was just eyeing him angrily with his fists balled at either side. “I don't know, man! I kinda like it! I think I might keep it!” he laughed and on the soldier's helmet. “See? It looks better on me anyway!”

The soldier then whipped out his shotgun and took a very deliberate shot at the scout's feet. The scout instantly dropped to the ground with a yelp.

“OH MY GOD! YOU SHOT ME!!” the scout rolled around on the ground, gripping his gushing foot in both hands.

“OF COURSE I DID, PRIVATE!! WHY DOES THAT SURPRISE YOU?!” the soldier stood over the scout and screamed in his face.

“WHAT THE HELL, MAN?! You said you were just gonna to kick my ass!” the scout shouted back.

“AND INDEED I DID, CUPCAKE! I KICKED YOUR ASS WITH A SHOTGUN BECAUSE I DO NOT HAVE TIME TO PLAY GRAB ASS WITH YOU ALL DAY!! THE PRICE OF LIBERTY IS ETERNAL VIGILENCE!! THOMAS JEFFERSON SAID THAT WHEN HE STORMED THE BEACHES AT NORMANDY!! BUT YOU WERE PROBABLY OUT SMOKING ROOFIES AND PLAYING WITH YOUR BALLS THE DAY THEY WERE TEACHING THAT LESSON, WERENT YOU!? WAR IS NOT A GAME AND I AM NOT YOUR COACH! I AM YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER AND I WILL TELL YOU WHAT I SAID AND I WILL TELL YOU WHAT YOU WILL SAY! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT OR DO I HAVE TO DRAW YOU A DIAGRAM?!”

“Alright! Alright! I get it, man! Jeez! Get off my dick!” the scout was more focused on the shot in his foot than the soldier looming over him.

“YOUR DICK IS MY PERSONAL PROPERTY, PRIVATE TWINKLETOES!!” On the word 'dick', soldier punched the scout between the legs and the kid yelped even louder than when he had been shot.

“GAA!! JEEZUS!! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!” The scout was now crying and curled up in an even tighter little ball on the ground.

“STOP CRYING, MAGGOT! I ASK THE QUESTIONS AROUND HERE!! JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! YOU ARE NOTHING! YOU MAKE ME SICK! FOR SIX MONTHS I HAVE TRIED TO MOTIVATE YOU! I HAVE TRIED TO TURN YOU INTO SOMETHING USEFUL, BUT I HAVE FAILED! PERHAPS I WAS MISTAKEN IN THINKING THAT YOU HAD WHAT IT TAKES TO BE A MEMBER OF MY TEAM! MAYBE YOU REALLY ARE A WORTHLESS COCKSUCKING SACK OF SISSIFIED MAGGOT SCUM! MAYBE I SHOULD JUST GIVE UP ON YOU! MAYBE YOU SHOULD JUST GO ON HOME TO MAMA AND GET A JOB BAGGING GROCERIES!! YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO EVEN SET FOOT ON MY BATTLFEILD!!”

The engineer almost felt like saying something at this point. Almost.

“Go fuck yourself, Sergeant Bozo!!” the scout suddenly didn't sound hurt at all.

The engineer's laughter could be heard for almost a mile.

“In due time, private! Come back to me after you've hit the gym and maybe I'll think about letting you join me!” The soldier backed off, scooped up his helmet, dusted it off and put it back on his head.

“What?” The scout froze and gaped at the soldier while he stood at stiff attention for a long and very uncomfortable moment, all the while having to hear that engineer's uproarious laughter.

“GET UP OFF THAT GROUND, PRIVATE!” The soldier barked and the scout reflexively pulled himself up onto one foot. “Now hop your sorry ass over to those facilities and make use of 'em!” he pointed toward the engineer's truck.

“Yeah, whatever, pal.” the scout started hopping away in that direction.

“Howdy.” The engineer greeted him as he loaded a mangled machine onto the truck, trying to contain himself. “You look like you could use a hand – or should Ah say a foot?” he chuckled and jump-started the dispenser on the truck bed with a quick knock or two.

“Shut up, hard-hat.” The scout snapped and hobbled up to the dispenser sitting in the back of the truck and leaned heavily on the bed. “Remember what I told you about keepin' yer boyfriend on a leash? What the hell have you been doin'!? I have yet to even see a collar on him! Un-fuckin-believable! I mean, do you have any idea who he's fuckin' with?! He'd betta learn to show some fuckin' gratitude for the guy that capped TWO FUCKIN POINTS FOR 'EM!! YOU HEAR ME?! You'd be fuckin DEAD if I hadn't done that for ya!!” He visibly puffed back up as the pink mist washed over him.

“Now, Ah understand where you're comin' from, but we all had a long day today, an' hell, let's face it – that fella's outta his goddamn mind - if anything you should be glad he only hurt you a little bit!” The engineer, still greatly amused by the scout's speech, paused in repairing that machine to point at him with his wrench. “Ya know Ah let that man fuck me last night and...”

“AW! AWW!! DON'T TELL ME THAT!!” the scout obviously wanted to run away, but his foot was still out of commission, so he just put his head down on the truck bed and pulled his cap down over his eyes and ears.

“...he bit me! He bit me hard! He took a fist-sized chunk outta mah shoulder, son!”

“I'm not hearin' this! I am not hearin' this! LA LA LA!” the scout squirmed.

“THEN he put a shotgun to mah face not even ten minutes later 'cuz he thought Ah was a spy! And you know what else? On the ride up here, he almost got us arrested because he thought there was some kinda communist rally goin' on at a Jolly Pirate Donuts! You ever seen somebody get face-planted into a deep-fryer? It ain't pretty.” speaking of Jolly Pirate Donuts, the engineer remembered that he still had some, so he reached for that box and took one out.

The scout only looked back up at him, his eyes wide and his mouth pursed shut in his confusion.

“Anyway, mah point is, he might be a ball-bustin' attaboy, and he might also be mentally handicapped, but his heart's in the right place.” he took a bite. “You oughtta learn to watch your mouth, lest you get some kinda pleasure outta getting' your ass handed to ya all the time!”

“You know what, maybe I do! Maybe Captain America over there needs to be told what's up every now and again! Maybe he needs to get it through his thick skull that he'd loose every single fight if it wasn't for me havin' his back all the time! But you know what else – fuck 'em! If he doesn't wanna show me any respect, I don't have to even waste my time with him!” He tried putting weight on his newly healed foot, then spun around to yell at the soldier, who had already started up his patrol again. “Yeah, did you hear that? FUCK YOU Major Moron! I normally don't let people disrespect me like that, but you got lucky this time 'cuz you're like a brudda to me! You're lucky that I'm such a nice guy and we're both on the same team! Otherwise I'd be OWNING you right now!! Yeah, you'd BETTER keep walkin'!!”
>> No. 4112
"Neurotic fantasy world" or not, this is great. It is easily one of my favorite fics on the entire chan. And even if you don't know where you're going with it, well, that just means there'll be more fun helmet times to come before you get there.

In the way of concrit, I don't have much input. The one thing that bothered me about this installment is that text wall of a paragraph towards the beginning. It was a bit much to chew through, y'know? So perhaps split extra-long paragraphs like that one into smaller ones next time. Other than that, this is fabulous. Pure, unadulterated, manly Helmet Love.

Can't wait for more.
>> No. 4115
Another fabulous chapter of HELMETS

This is pretty much one of my favorite pairings, and this is my favorite iteration of the pair.

Keep up the good work!
>> No. 4116
>You ever seen somebody get face-planted into a deep-fryer? It ain't pretty.
You. Are. Killing. Me.

Christ almighty, KGB, all my babies. Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew. They're yours.

I'm gonna go ahead and second Dogma's recommendation to split that paragraph up some, and in addition I should add that I ain't real sure where you were going with it. It sounds like he's either having body issues, being confused as to why Soldier's attracted to him (because of said body issues?), or like you're giving him a lead-in to investigate the dynamic between Spy and BLU Engy, and I'm not really sure which of those you were aiming at. Could probably tighten that up some, but it might be the effect of the lack of direction you were hinting at earlier, so.

Otherwise, though, your story continues to be a paragon of every insane manly virtue. I'm just gonna sit here and take a number to suck your virtual cock. Goddamn.
>> No. 4704
This is my favorite fic.
>> No. 4706
YAY.
>> No. 5080
I completely have fallen in love with this story, I have to say. The characterizations, the interactions, everything. Guh, I could gush for such a while on this. So much love

With that, I was wondering if it would be kosher for me to use a few sections of this story to practice my ability to draw up a comic. You've got enough detail that I can see everything happening and I just wanted to test how well that can translate onto paper. Much obliged.

sage
>> No. 5099
.......you have no idea how happy you make me by first drawing like a god and then writing like one. I love you.
>> No. 5138
Oh god I love how you write soldeir. He's so freakin insane and wonderful
>> No. 5146
You have no idea how utterly in bliss I was when I saw this was bumped with new posts, but then let down with lead weights when there wasn't an update :'(
Please write more! You've taught me so much, this can't end now!
>> No. 7756
This needs way more love than its getting- seriously, you've got more talent in you than most published authors in the modern world currently got on this!
....And plus, I'm a sucker for it. Fan-fiction that's actually really good, actually seems to have its own feel and life despite it being what it is....so damn rare.
How you depict their personalities so flawlessly, how you seem to make even the settings work to their highest levels; I'm serious, I adore this! And not just because its TF2, its because someone who actually cares about the content they make is writing it.

I salute you, sir/ma'am, for making this amazingly stunning piece of work.


And I also hope this little bit of my appreciation helps a bit..I saw few true motivational comments, so I wanted to try and give my own. Keep up the great work, and have a freakin' wonderful day! You sure made my day a sureashell good one.
>> No. 7757
>>136

KGBigelow started this over again in another thread with a similar name. It has some new chapters in it too!

http://tf2chan.net/afanfic/res/6537.html
>> No. 7758
>>137

Oh wow, really? Thank you for linking!
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