enjoy my unbeta'd team dorking “Yo, Wombat, pass me a beer.†“I don’t think so, runt. Go to the kitchen and getcherself a cup of milk, ‘cos there’s no way you’re old enough to drink this piss.†“Eugh… monsieur, please do not use ‘drink’ and ‘piss’ in the same breath ever again.†“Makes ya nervous, spook?†“Repulsed is a more accurate term.†Spy said, sipping at his glass of wine and delicately taking a spoonful of his soup. He dabbed at the corner of his mouth with his napkin (actually an artfully folded piece of toilet paper.) Demo let out some garbled version of a laugh or sound of agreement that was cut off by Soldier pushing the dining room door open with a slam. “MAIL CALL!†He barked. He tossed a hefty stack of envelopes onto the table in front of Demo, then moved on to Engie. Within the next few minutes, every member of the team had at least two envelopes on the table in front of the and were eagerly ripping into them. Everyone, that is, except for Engineer and Soldier. “Woah, Solly! No mail this month?†Scout ripped off the elastic band on his stack of envelopes and tore one open. “Negatory.†“I thought you had that pen pal from the institution that you wrote to.†Medic commented. His own letter was already open and in his hands. Several pages long and written in an impeccable neat scrawl, it was surely from his pre-med student daughter, Anna. “Took ol’ Ralphie away from me,†Soldier grunted. “Doctors said I was filling his head with too many stories. Making his condition worse.†“That is understandable. I wouldn’t trust you around a man like ‘im either.†Spy commented, his own letters still laying in a pile on the table. He’d open them later, in the privacy of his bunk. “The real question ‘ere is about Monsieur Ingénieur. Does ‘e not have a daughter ‘oo normally writes to ‘im?†“Not anymore,†Engie sighed. “My girl Suzanna up and ran off with some inner-city feller and says she never wants to see me again. She don’t like that I think she’s too good for him. Says it’s none’a my business.: Scout rolled his eyes. “Like we ain’t heard this a thousand times already. What was his name? Ted? Some lawyer type’a guy?†“He’s a lyin’ scumbag!†“And how do you know that?†“Come on, fellers! He’s a lawyer!†“And you’re a bloke with a dozen PhD's who still makes his living as a hillbilly mercenary. You got no right to talk, mate.†Sniper took a mouthful from his bottle of beer. “Can’t do too much when a kid gets that way, Truckie. You her dad or her dictator?†“Da, leetle Sniper is right. Cannot run life for leetle girl. Must make mistakes to learn.†Heavy nodded sagely. “Is trick to stumbling around on road of life: must do wrong to learn right.†Engie quieted down, stirring moodily at his soup. “Well, who’all do’you fellers write to?†“I got my ma,†Scout said. He sorted his letters into two piles. One contained seven thick envelopes and the other only had one relatively thin one. “She sent us a buncha cookies too, by the way. I got ‘em in my room. I’ll trade you guys stuff for ‘em.†All nine men visibly swooned slightly at the thought of Scout’s mother’s home made cookies. “This is her pile.†He gestured to the larger pile. "An' this one..." he picked up the single envelope. "This is from my girl Jenny. She don't write me too often, but it's cool 'cause I know she's busy with school and work and stuff." "She must be making loads of money." Sniper said. "You don't even know what she does!" "Yeah, but I hear hooking pays pretty well." "Fuck you, roo-humper! You wish you had a girl half as smokin' hot as mine!" "There's more to life than droolin' over sheilas, mate. I don't have a woman cos I don't want one. Got me mum an' dad an' me job. Don't want anythin' else." Sniper stood, taking his empty bowl with him to the kitchen. "'Sides, sheilas are too complicated anyways. They're ruddy bonkers all the time." "You're just a loser who can't score with a chick, ya fuckin' social retard." Sniper grabbed Scout by the back of the head and shoved his face down in his soup bowl as he walked past. "Choke on it, wanker." He said, and when Scout threw the bowl at him, it shattered against the kitchen door Sniper had just slammed shut. "Rapefag." Scout mumbled, soup dripping off his chin. "Mrph mmpmmph mph!" Pyro tugged eagerly at Engie's sleeve and continued to assault him with bits of muffled speech and excitement. "Now settle down, son. Get your wits about ya, n'then tell us what ya want to say." Pyro took ten calming breaths, then launched into another lengthy description of something-or-other. Engie tried to tell him to settle down again, but Scout put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. "Nah, hardhat. Lemme do it." He looked past Engie to Pyro. "Alright, pal, what were you sayin'?" "Mph mmph mph!" "Oh, yeah?" Scout grinned coyly. "What's 'er name?" "Mphm Mph-mm-mph!" "Got any pictures?" Pyro nodded fiercely and dug at the pockets of his rubber suit. Eventually he found a leather wallet and thrust it out towards Scout. Scout took it and flipped it open. He flipped through its contents, then passed it back to Pyro. "Mmph ph mph?!" "She sure is cute." Scout replied. Pyro sighed dreamily. "Mph, mph mph mph mph mph-mph-mph." "Oh, okay. See ya later then, man." Pyro made a happy sound and got up from his seat, taking his empty bowl with him. He came back out of the kitchen wearing his wide-brimmed gardening hat and holding his trowel. He gave another happy sound, waved, and bounded out of the room. Engie's eyes were wide as he looked at Scout. "Now what was that all about?!" "Pyro was telling me about who he writes letters to." Scout answered, shrugging. "A cat. Name Agatha Pussington." "..." "Yeah, I thought it was kinda weird too. Says he writes letters to her and asks her how she is and shit. I dunno what kinda answer he's hoping to get, but something tells me he hasn't got it yet." "Well... don't that beat all." "I was always saying that boy ain't right." Soldier grunted. "All screwy in the noggin from huffing fumes." "Leetle Pyro needs family!" boomed Heavy very suddenly, startling everyone at the table. "If Pyro had wife, he would not be lonely. He would have son to make him proud." "What makes you so sure?" Scout snickered. "You have a wife an' kids?" "As matter of fact, yes. Have beautiful wife by name is Valeriya. Is lovely as can be. Also have wonderful daughter Anastasiya. Is on sports teams in school. Is strong like bull! And handsome son Alexei. Is in the Russian military, make me very proud." "DIRTY COMMIES! ALL OF YOU!" Soldier sprung up in his chair, shovel at the ready. He took a swing at Heavy's head, but it went wide as Engie grabbed him by the back of his grenade strap and yanked him back down. "Now settle down, Solly. No need to go flyin' off the handle, the man was just tellin' us about his family. Now what else do you have to say, big feller?" "Is no problem for leetle Soldier to get mad. Was done talking anyways. Son and daughter make me proud and wife is beautiful." "What is she, like a Russian supermodel or something?" Scout asked, suddenly very interested. "Yo, fatty, you got pictures.?" "Da." Heavy pulled his wallet from his back pocket and passed it to Scout. It was tiny in his mammoth hand. "Is most beautiful woman in all of Russia." Scout flipped the wallet open eagerly and stared at its contents. His jaw dropped. "This is the most beautiful chick in Russia?!" "Da." Heavy said proudly. "Is wife. Why not beautiful?" "She'd fuckin' fat!" "Nyet, leetle Scout. Not fat. Has child-birthing hips. Every good woman has. Baby Scout is too young to understand dis." Scout shook his head. "Fuckin' crazy, man. Crazy." "Is strong woman. Could wrestle bears." "Must be hoe she handles you." "Dat slaps me on da knee. Very funny, leetle baby Scout." "What about you, doc?" Engie asked, drowning out Scout's very rude response. "What's your kid like?" "She is... callous, to say the least." "That's awful harsh." "It is only how I feel, Herr Engineer." Medic took a sip of his water. "She is so busy with her studies. I pushed her so hard in school and now it's like I've lost her. She never has time for me." "Well, you're 'cross an ocean from her, Medic. Maybe she feels like you're too far away." "Ach, nein. Last time we had a phone call day, I called her, and she wants to know everything. Where I work, what company, who I work with, what I do everyday. But I cannot tell her. It breaks contract." "The phones are wiretapped, you know." Spy commented. He poured himself another glass of wine. "That is why we 'ad to replace our last Sniper. The fool told 'is wife about 'is job and the 'igher-ups took 'im off the team and 'e 'asn't been 'eard from since. So it would be wide of you gentlemen to be careful what you say on that line." Scout scoffed. "Stop pretendin' you're so fuckin' cool, Spy. Every chump and his fuckin' stepmom knows the lines are tapped. Christ." Spy sputtered for a moment, the silenced and took a long draught from his wine glass. "Continue, doc." Engineer said. "Danke, Herr Engineer. Anna, she is so... determined to know about my work. She assumes that since I can't tell her about it, it must be dishonourable work. I say that I'm a military field Medic in America, but she won't believe me. I can't exactly explain to her that I kill people everyday for money. She'd never want to see me again." "You got yourself in a bit of a pickle." "Yeah, that is pretty rough." "Poor Doktor misses his Anna." "Ja. I wish I didn't have to do this job... but it's sending her to university. She has a lot of years to pay for, und I make a lot of money here. I can afford only the best for her." Medic allowed a tiny smile. "She vants to be a doctor, you know. Ever since she was young." "Now that's somethin'. She must care so much." Engie frowned. "Wish my Suzanna cared that much about me. I called her on our last phone call day, and soon as she heard my voice, she hung up. What is she never talks to me again? I could be a grandpa or a great-grandpa and I wouldn't even know it!" "There's no way she wouldn't let you know that. If she had a kid, you deserve to know. She can't keep yours grandkids from you, man. It ain't her right." Scout slid over into Sniper's seat. He picked up Sniper's half-empty beer and wiped the mouth of it off with his shirt. Then he took a mouthful. "I know I could never be mad enough at my ma to not tell her she was gonna be a grandma." "I sure hope you're right, son." Engie smiled wistfully. The table fell silent for a moment. Scout gazed down the table and, upon seeing Spy, jumped. "Woah, you're still here, frog? You usually eat and then leave or take your food back to your room with you." "Indeed. I myself am surprised I am still 'ere. Per'aps the wine wakes your stories more interesting." "If we're so boring, why don't you go ahead and tell us 'bout who you write letters to?" Engie levelled his gaze with Spy's, challenging. "Tell us what's so interesting about your letters." "Fine. If that is what you want, that is what you shall get." Spy plucked up one of the envelopes that were in his pile. As usual, his name was covered by an opaque black box and in tiny text next to it, 'SPY' had been written in. "This letter is from ma petite amie, Dorothy. She is beautiful as a dewy rose on a spring morning." "What, you haven't got no parents or anything?" "They died a long time ago. Now all I 'ave is my work, my woman, and my fine cigarettes." "Leetle Spy has team too!" Heavy added, not-so-subtly. Spy tried to continue as if Heavy hadn't spoken, but the big man had the tenacity of a determined puppy. Spy relented, rolling his eyes. "Whatever 'elps you sleep at night, monsieur." "Does not help me sleep! Is for good of team! Must work together! Be one!" "Right, right. One. Ensemble." Heavy practically beamed with satisfaction. "Good on ya, mate." Sniper commented from the doorway. He stepped forward and hefted his case of beer onto the table. "Yer whole badass routine was gettin' pretty old. Y'act like a lone wolf, but you appreciate the team just as much as the next bloke." Spy was about to deny it, but took one look at Heavy and fell silent. The man could rip him half as if he were nothing more than tissue paper. Apparently sensing the arrival of more alcohol (other than wine, of course, because wine was for ladies and Spies) Demo's head snapped up from where he'd been passed out on the table. He reached for Sniper's cased of beer, but the Aussie tugged it away. "Share first, you big lug. Tell us 'bout your family an' whatnot. A little social activity'll be good for ya." Spy snorted. "This coming from the antisocial jar-stalker who prefers to sit up in 'is 'ideaway instead of making 'imself useful to the rest of 'is team on the field." "Oi! I make myself plenty useful! I'd love you see you try to cross the bridge without cover fire, y'wanker!" "You would be more useful at the front. As much as I dislike giving compliments, I 'ave seen the skill with which you wield that bow. You would make a respectable battle Sniper." Sniper's ears turned red with embarrassment. "How come you're pickin' on me? Truckie's never out at the front either, but you're not sayin' anything you him." "He builds crucial buildings." Medic state. He had taken out his knitting and was working on a pair of red mittens for Scout. "You, however, shoot people, toss around jars of your own bodily fluids, and get backstabbed by Spies. All of which you could be doing from the front." "Wot about Spy?! He doesn't help you blokes fight!" "Apart from Scout, he has the most Intel captures on this team." Sniper sputtered out a few attempts at rebuttals, but eventually mumbled 'I s'pose so...' and fell silent, head hung low. Judging by the blotchy flush creeping down the back of his neck, his angry:embarrassed ratio was roughly 1:3. The attention of the team was distracted away from Sniper when Demo launched into a very loud, very slurred, very Scottish rant. After about five straight minutes of this ranting, he fell forward with a thump, stirring up bubbles as he snored away with his face submerged in his soup. Heavy had the decency to lift his head out of the bowl and laid it on the table instead. Scout just stared. "The fuck was that supposed to be?!" "He told ya 'bout his family." Sniper answered. He opened his beer on the edge of the table. "Says 'e's got his mum, dad's dead, and he's got a girlfriend. BLU Medic's ex-wife. Says she means a lot to him and he misses her. Poor bloke. Said if she's seein' another man while he's here, it'll break his heart." "How the heck did you understand all that, Slim?" Engie asked, eyebrows arched it amazement. "You get used to how he talks when he's real drunk. Him and I get drunk together all th' bloody time. Real good mate, that Demo." "Woah, woah, woah. BLU's doc's ex-wife?" Scout grinned. "Man, their doc's like, twenty years younger than ours. Bet his ex-wife is fuckin' hot. Demo got pictures?" "Not here, he don't, but I seen 'em. She's a pretty little bird. Blonde hair, big brown eyes. Real beaut." "Hot dog! Gotta get me some'a dat!" "Wouldn't try it, brat. Demo seems pretty serious about this girl. Says he's gonna marry her soon as he gets done his contract here. Wants to have kids with her an' stuff. Already got names all picked out. Hell, she might as well be pregnant now, with the way he carries on." "Aw, shit." Scout scowled. "I'd fuck a married chick, but I wouldn't if she was pregnant too. That's just low." He shot a glare at Spy, who ignored it. "BLU Scout's mother isn't married to his father." "She was when you first hooked up with her." Spy bristled. "How do you know that?" "Bloody hell, spook. You're not some big mystery like you think you are. Everyone knows that you've been with the BLU Scout's mum since the kid was seven or eight, while she was still married to his dad." Spy just scowled and returned to his wine. Engie sighed. "So all you fellers have someone to write to, and me and Solly have no-one?" "Seems like it, yeah. Alone in the world an' all that." "Nyet! Leetle Engineer and Soldier have team!" "I guess." mumbled Engie. "Still, I miss my Suzie more'n anything in the world. I wish she'd settle down with some good man so I wouldn't worry so much." "Maybe on our next phone call day you can apologize to her and tell her that who she marries doesn't matter to you." Medic's needles clicked away rapidly. "But is does matter!" "That may be true, but would you rather have your daughter hate you forever or occasionally have to tolerate your son-in-law?" Engie heaved what seemed like his hundredth sigh that conversation. "Maybe I ought to apologize." Soldier scowled at Sniper. "Now that we're done with family fun time hour, pass me a beer, you filthy camper." Sniper passed him one without acknowledging his comment. "So are you gonna apply for a new pen pal, Solly?" Soldier shrugged. "Might not. Doctors will probably just take him away again." "Still worth tryin', Sarge." Scout said. Soldier just shrugged again and popped open his bottle on the edge of the table, like Sniper had. He took a mouthful. "I'm alright without anyone to write to. All I need is war!" "NYET!" Heavy boomed. "LEETLE SOLDIER NEEDS TEAM!" "Settle yourself, Herr Heavy." Medic said, not even bothering to look up from his knitting, even though he had been sitting right next to the Russian man when he made his outburst. The rest of the team had started, but not Medic. He just kept on working away at his mittens. Heavy settled back down into his seat as soon as Medic spoke. "Could be worse." said Scout. "Least you got each other, right?" Engie nodded and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, Solly's a great friend." Abruptly, Soldier sprang to his feet, back ramrod straight. "Affirmative!" he barked. "We are friends! JUST FRIENDS! Under NO circumstances is there ANY deeper relationship between us!" "Now quiet down, Solly, they heard you-" "I will NOT quiet down because there is absolutely NO gay sex going on between us! NONE! And anyone who thinks there is a COMMUNIST and HATES AMERICA!" "... you're gay, aren't you?" "Gay as CUM in a MOUSTACHE." "Big deal. Everyone can hear you two anyways. We all have our bunks in the same room. Just because no one is talking doesn't mean we're all asleep." "Yeah, about that. We're sorry if we woke any of you fellers up-" "I APOLOGIZE FOR NOTHING!" "Well, I'm sorry about it." "No problem. It's not like Heavy and Medic are any quieter, mate. Barely-suppressible urges and all that. We're all men here. And it's not a like a little gay sex-" "OR A LOT-" "...or a lot, would make our team hate each other. You're all the same blokes you were before." "I guess you're right, Down Under." Engie nose went red and Rudolf's with his embarrassment. "I just wish Solly was a little more subtle about it." Spy rolled his eyes. "Have you ever known Monsieur Soldat to be any variety of subtle?" "Nope." Engie grinned. "Guess you're right." "Anyways," said Sniper. "It's not like there's any dames around here. And I mean, c'mon, we're men. All of us have gotten weak a fucked Demo-" The team cast a doubtful looked at Demo, who was babbling incoherencies and crying in his sleep. Their gaze then returned to Sniper. "Or Scout-" "HEY! None of you fags have ever touch me! Well sure maybe I fucked Sniper once, but it was only ONCE so I'm totally not gay okay?!" "No, that's not true." Medic said. "Surely you remember that time in the medbay-" "The Intel room-" "Spy's bed-" "Sniper's van-" "The storage closet-" "The respawn room-" "FUCKING... fuck!" Scout crossed his arms sourly, then a moment later threw them up in defeat. "So apparently I'm the team's fucktoy!" Sniper ignored him and continued on. "-or Spy, a couple of times." Everyone looked at Spy, who only shrugged and puffed on his smoke. "What can I say? I am irresistible." "If by 'irresistible' you mean 'a giant manwhore,' then yeah." Scout said, completely disregarding the fact that the team had just spouted a substantial list of all the places they'd fucked him in. "Non," Spy sighed wistfully. "Non, I am not a whore. Whores get paid." "So clever." said Medic. Engie tuned out the steadily-escalating argument between Spy and Scout about who was less of a whore and gaze at Soldier with a smile. He scooted a little bit closer to him. In midst of the conversation moving on to 'how much money are Spy's sexual services worth?', the team didn't notice him move. He found Soldier's hand under the table and laced their fingers together. Soldier's rough hand squeezed his and he tilted his head down so his eyes were hidden by his helmet and allowed a tiny smile as well. Engie nearly melted.
never stop writing if this gets long I would buy this shit off the fucking shelves at Barnes and Noble
I love fics so much where it's the whole team interacting and adorable. This was great, I loved it.
Yes
Oh god. Marry me. The whole fic was great, but I actually spit on my screen from laughing so hard at one part. "Gay as CUM in a MOUSTACHE." Took me a good five minutes to keep reading. Also He had taken out his knitting and was working on a pair of red mittens for Scout. Someone please draw this. It sounds adorable.
>>2 never stop writing I don't have any immediate plans to stop but I'll let you know if I do. Also I actually had no intentions of adding onto this, but since writing it I've already written another one, so never fear! >>3 >>4 Thank you very much! >>5 Sure thing. When were you hoping? Because I'm kind of short on cash right now and weddings are expensive shit. And well. I apologize to your screen for getting it covered in spit (unless it liked it, of course, in which case I take full responsibility) and I'm glad you liked it. And the kntting thing... that's from a fic from a million years ago. Like three chan nukes ago or something, right when I started lurking here. The theory is that all of the support classes occupy their time by knitting items to keep the rest of their team toasty warm on winter maps. AWRIGHT: got a favour that needs doing. Should be mutually beneficial. I need someone to beta the next bit for me. This one prolly wasn't that bad, but I overlook things often and I want to provide the best product for you guys. Shoot me an email if you can, it's up the email box.
>>6 WELP. this is me btw.
They were the two most terrifying words anyone could have heard leave RED Scout’s mouth. Words that, upon their utterance, sparked violence more intense than anything any of the team had experienced in battle. The air would soon be thick with ammo and the cries of the wounded. Those two words had turned that Saturday afternoon into a truly ghastly one indeed. “SNOWBALL FIGHT!†From the moment the first snowball flew (a messy, slushy lump hurled by Scout at the back of Spy's head) it became a no-holds-barred winter death match. Automatically alliances had been formed. Heavy and Medic had teamed together –– as predicted. Heavy shovelled piles of snow into boulder-sized snowballs which he hurled at any approaching foe, while Medic hid behind his giant meat shield of a body and took out anyone who happened to get past Heavy’s massive projectiles. Scout and Pyro teamed up as well. When Pyro wasn’t carrying his flamethrower, gas canisters, and axe, he was fairly speedy. Without his awkward bulky rubber suit he might have equalled (if not surpassed) the speed of the twitchy teenager. Together they darted about the snow hill-littered terrain, ducking behind tall drifts and peeking out lightning-speed to fire a few snowballs before retreating into hiding again. Scout verbally berated the rest of the team the entire time, and Pyro enthusiastically punctuated those sentiments with his huddah’s and hmphs. How Demo and Soldier had managed to create explosions without grenades and rockets was a mystery to everyone. Despite the general impossibility of it all, the tiny snow mound Solly had built with the help of Shovel still shook with the tremors that only that destructive duo could cause. The chill air carried the combined battles cries from Soldier and drunken slurs from Demo, rising up from behind the little hill. Occasionally, Solly would stick his helmeted head and jacketed torso up to hurl a barrage of snowballs at any oncoming attackers before ducking behind the mound once again.. Scout and Pyro were frequently hit using this tactic. All the while he was behind it, the tiny hill continued to grow, as Solly kept heaping shovelfuls of snow onto the top of it. Eventually it grew to a formidable size, large enough the Soldier barely had to crouch to stay protected by it. All this time, it was assumed that Demo had passed out and was slowly being engulfed by wayward shovelfuls of snow. Not to be bested by Demo and Soldier’s unarmed explosions, Engineer had somehow constructed a snowball sentry made out of only snow, his wrench, and a few supplies he had snuck out from his workshop. Technically, he was cheating, but he had half the cavalry that the other teams had so it was acceptable, right? With this in mind, Engie whooped and cheered as his snowball sentry mowed down any approaching enemies. He had just darted to the base to get the supplies to upgrade his sentry, when Spy finally uncloaked with a whoosh and a horrible grin, drawing a sapper from an inside pocket of his jacket. By the time he heard the heartbroken wail of 'Sentry down’ from Engineer’s little base, Spy was already in the mindset of progressing on to bigger and better things. Unfortunately for him, these ‘bigger and better’ things were limited, as there was only so much he could do in this type of battle. His sapper was only useful against Engineer, and his knife was of no use to him here. The only gadget that had any worth in this type of warfare was his cloaking device. He did not stay hidden in the perch with his teammate Sniper to overlook the battle from overhead because goddammit he was a man and men didn’t hide where his enemies couldn’t get him and attack from there. Eagles did that. Mostly the female ones. As a much-manlier alternative, he skulked around behind Soldier’s fortifications kicking holes in his wall, but at least it was better than Sniper’s woman-fighting (oh dear, Soldier and Demo seemed to be rubbing off on him a bit. Time to speak more French). He also took to tripping Scout and Pyro as they darted around outside the base like meth-addicted rabbits then fleeing as Sniper pelted them with a barrage of snowballs. Eventually the pair had figured out that they weren’t sliding on the ice as a result of running too fast, and Scout even managed to catch Spy and attempted to strangle the poor Frenchman. Fortunately, Sniper had him covered and with a few well-aimed, particularly slushy snowballs to the back of the head, Scout turned him loose and he scrambled off to go hide behind Soldier’s wall again. The battle raged on for several hours and showed no signs of stopping. It wasn't until darkness started to fall and the hours of battle finally forced fatigue onto the combatants that they gathered at the centre of the battleground and agreed on a truce. It was generally accepted (with the exception of Soldier, who wanted to continue until one team triumphed over the other, even with sure signs of frost bite on his fingers and a consistently runny nose) that the battle was going no one direction. Then Engineer proposed they all head inside for hot chocolate and beef stew and everyone (even Soldier) enthusiastically agreed. They all ate well and slept well that night, and they all slept in late the next morning. -- Sunlight pierced the thin red curtains in Soldier's room easily, already halfway across the sky and shining on with all its might. Normally, Soldier would be awake already, as his routine morning jog that he took with Scout was a crack-of-dawn type of thing. Jogging was the last thing on Soldier's mind this morning though. He sat up and swung his legs around to the side of the bed and even that small movement sent him clutching his skull, trying to calm his head spins. He struggled to clamber to his feet, and only made it to his door by inching along the wall and clutching at it as best his big rough hands could. Once he got the door open and got outside his room, he paused to lean against the wall and took a breather. He'd only managed to get just outside his door and already he was exhausted. His knees were weak, his head swam, his breath caught in chest, his body shook with chills that ran him up and down and he had to bring a hand up to wipe the snot from his nose every few seconds. His dog tags stuck to the cool sweat slicking his chest hair and jangled together whenever he was overcome with a particularly violent shiver. He struggled his way down to the kitchen. He thought as soon as he got a glass of water into him, he'd be good to go and he could go back to his room and get dressed, then start his day off properly: with his usual harsh fitness regiment. Then things would go back to normal, he'd just sweat this out and he'd be better. He pushed open the door to the dining room, through which he had to go to reach the kitchen and the glass of water that would solve all his problems, but the moment he swung the door open he froze. He surely must have slept late: the rest of his team, even the laziest maggots (Demo) and the ones that didn't eat with the team (Pyro and Spy) were present. What was even odder was how all of them were swaddled in blankets and sweaters and other insulated garments. Soldier, too manly for these things, slept in his standard issue RED boxers and his dog tags. He felt immensely underdressed. He marched to the head of the table and stopped. "WELL?" He tried to tell as he usually would, but his throat protested like some liberal teenagers and his voice came out hoarse and croaky. He continued on in a more level tone, words slurred: overpowered by the mucus deposits in his nose. "What are you maggots sitting there staring at me for? Shouldn't you degenerates be getting ready for today's battle?" "Battle was called off," mumbled Heavy, who had tied the tassels of his toque under his chin to keep it tight on his head. "Doktor says team is not fit to fight." "Not fit to fight? I could have told you that! But lay us off for the day? That's hardly a way to WHIP YOU MAGGOTS INTO SHAPE––" He had to grip the edge of the table to keep standing as a coughing fit overtook him. "Solly, I think you oughta sit down." Engie gestured to the seat next to him and opened the blanket that had been wrapped around himself to invite him in. He was revealed to be wearing what appeared to be a pair of red wool Onesie pyjamas. "Here, there's room for you here." When he'd recovered from his coughing fit and wiped his rose, he rounded on Engie. "Engie! You too?! I thought you were better than these lazy ingrates! Whether you spineless worms come or not, I'm going to get ready to fight!" "S'no use." Sniper wheezed. He'd stuffed tissues in his nostrils, supposedly to stem the flow of mucous. "Doc talked to the higher-ups. Took some bargaining, but we're off for the day." "WHAT?! WHY DID THE NAZI DO THAT?" Soldier roared, before being reduced to a hacking fit. "Chucklenuts, look around." Scout said. He was bundled up in the mittens, hat, and scarf Medic had knitted him as well as the thick Red Sox sweater his mother had sent him for Christmas. "We're all sick as dogs. None of us can hold our weapons, forget aiming and firing." "But you do not aim when you shoot, petit Scout." Spy commented. He had traded out his balaclava for a hat and scarf combo that covered the same skin but kept him warmer. He gripped the cup of tea in front of him with mittened hands that looked suspiciously like he'd borrowed (or more likely stolen) them from Scout. "You should 'ave no problem fighting with clogged sinuses." Scout didn't have the energy to argue, and instead threw a half-hearted middle finger in Spy's direction. "You HIPPIES can pussy out all you like, I am going to get dressed!" Soldier turned on his heel to march out of the room but nearly fell over on top of Demo halfway through the turn. The door to the kitchen swung open and Medic stood in the doorway. He worse the frilly white apron (the only one that could be found in the base) and gripped a huge steel pot with his flowery oven mitts. He gazed at Soldier. "Ah, Herr Soldat. Ve vere vondering vhen you'd make your vay down here. Please, take a seat. Zere appears to be room beside Herr Engineer." "NO!" Soldier bellowed. "Just because you NANCIES can't handle a few SNIFFLES, does not mean I'm going to sit down and have a SPARKLY GIRLY TEA PARTY with you!" "Herr Soldat, please stop shouting." "CAN'T TAKE IT LOUD, KRAUT? I don't know how they do things in YOUR country, but in AMERICA we like our war LOUD!" He made to stomp out of the room, but this time he really did fall over, right onto Heavy. "Herr Heavy, if you please." "Da, Doktor." Heavy nodded and took Soldier by the forearms so couldn't get back up. Initially he struggled and yelled, trying to pulls his arms out of Heavy's grip and flailing his legs around in an attempt to get a kick in. But Heavy just held him firmly in place until his struggles slowly puttered away and he sat motionless in Heavy's arms. Heavy lifted him up and plopped him down on the bench between himself and Engineer, who opened his blanket again and wrapped it around Soldier's shoulders. Soldier sat there scowling as Medic passed placemats and spoons down the table and Engie placed them in front of him. The placemat was red, complete with the team emblem stamped in the middle. Medic went back to the kitchen and brought out a teetering pile of bowls and placed them on the table next to the huge steel pot. He took a ladle from a pocket in his apron and began ladling large portions of chicken noodle soup into the bowls, passing them down the table as he filled them. Soldier stared down at the offending bowl of soup in front of him. "Aw, Solly, quit your pouting. The soup didn't do nothing to you." Engie playfully elbowed him. "Have some, you'll feel better." "Soup cannot fix everything that's wrong with this team." Soldier growled. "No," Medic said. "That will take doses of sinus pills, a day of taking it easy, a generous application of VapoRub on your chests and backs, and a tablespoon of night time cough syrup for each of you tonight before bed." Almost as if they were one, the whole team slumped forward and groaned in unison. "Vat? I never said getting better vould be fun." -- this was beta'd by my Spinarak. his comments after reading it the first time: 'my theory: whole fight was orchestrated by medic so he and heavy could have a date that day Its sort of like when a mother kills their child out of love'
Loved it!
Oh man I loved and adored your first fic, and then you write this one! I have to say the snowball fight was my favorite, the image I got in my head of them having a snow ball fight was too cute. And hehe I love how you portray Medic as knitting stuff for the team, adorable! Heavy and Medic date day indeed~ Thanks for these great team fics! I eagerly await more if you chose to write more!
The 'support class knits' fic is here: http://shankie.dreamwidth.org/175011.html Echoing the rest to keep going - the humor in here's nice and playfully twisted, as well it should be.
This is.... wow. Some of the best Team portrayal I've seen in a long time. Pyro being a gardener with a cat he writes to, and Scout being the only one that understands him... Heavy's undying team spirit... Sniper being serious about his job, and rough with Scout... Spy thinking he's smoother than he really is... and how they're all casual and okay with each other's sexuality. And you make Soldier exercise with Scout too! I swore I was the only one who saw that as canon. Everything about these pieces has something fresh and original to the team's characterizations. I am deeply intrigued, and I eagerly await any more to come. Also, oh dear, Soldier and Demo seemed to be rubbing off on him a bit. Time to speak more French Laughed so damn hard that I think I hurt myself.
You mean Im not the only one who likes a gardening Pyro that runs just as fast as Scout? Marry me. Or just, y'know, keep writing. Either's fine.
There's few things I enjoy more to read than the team's everyday interaction with eachother. And you write it very well too which makes me all warm inside.