1 . Name: Gattling Gun @ 2011-09-30 18:55

One of my awesome friends wrote this, after we discovered we both had a love of TF2 and Heavy and Medic. She was sweet enough to write this, and even sweeter to let me share it. It brought a huge smile to my face, thanks again! Hope everyone enjoys just as much as I did.




See You Next Week


The day the Heavy and Medic blew into Old Joe’s Diner hadn’t been a special one. The morning was a bit nippy for a spring day, but other than that it had been an ordinary beginning to an average Saturday.

Jenny (when people asked for a last name she’d smile and say “Just Jenny,” so Jenny it was) had just finished tying up her hair when the door opened at seven o’clock sharp, letting a cold gust of wind in. Jenny smoothed out her dress and looked up at only to find herself face-to-face with a smiling giant. He was massive, but fat wasn’t the right word because he moved with more definition than that of a lazy person. Jenny cleared her throat and smiled.

“Good morning. How many?”

The giant’s smile fell from his face and devastating confusion replaced it.

“How many what?” Jenny’s eyes widened at his thick Russian accent. “I do not understand.”

It was an odd thing to say, now that Jenny thought about it… especially to someone who wasn’t acquainted to the typical American diner. Jenny felt her face get warm as she kept on her smile and elaborated.

“Um, well, I meant—what I mean is, how many people are with you?”

The smile was back and the Russian’s voice rumbled and seemed to make the entire diner tremble.

“I am here, and I have the Doctor with me!”

Jenny wasn’t sure what to say to that, but luckily another man stepped out from behind the big Russian. He was smaller than his large companion (though anyone would be smaller compared to him), but his composure was much colder. His eyes were steely and made Jenny feel like she’d done something horribly wrong.

“What he means to say,” the German adjusted his glasses, “is two.”

His words were sharp and Jenny jumped when he finished.

“Right this way.” She swiped two menus and had them sit in a booth because she wasn’t sure if the chairs could handle the Russian. Once they sat down Jenny put her generic cheery smile. “Someone will be back to take your orders, take some time to look at the menu.”

Jenny’s multicolored tennis shoes squeaked as she darted back to the register. Joe (Old Joe) was chatting with Allison. She was twisting her blonde hair around her fingers and giggling at Joe’s jokes even though he was never funny. She kept telling Jenny that if she flirted too that she’d get a raise. Jenny wanted money, but she didn’t want it that badly.

Allison licked her lips, her elbows resting on the register.

“Who are those guys?”

Jenny shrugged.

“I don’t know. They’re in your section.”

Allison’s pretty little nose wrinkled.

“Ew—no way, I’m not serving them!” She lowered her voice dramatically. “They’re probably communists.” Allison smiled at Joe. “Besides, Joe and I were having a conversation.”

The smile on Joe’s face was enough to make Jenny take out her pen and make her way back to the booth with a muttered “Fine.” Jenny went back to the booth and the Russian smiled at her, and it was much better than Joe’s.

“Can I get you anything to drink—?”

“One coffee, scrambled eggs and rye toast.”

Jenny wrote down the quick order from the German who was reading a newspaper. With a quick breath, Jenny turned to the Russian.

“And you?”

The big man grinned.

“You have milk, yes?” Jenny nodded and the man’s happiness was heartwarming. People rarely smiled like that these days. It made Jenny long for a camera. “Good… and… do you have pancakes?”

This time Jenny laughed a little.

“Yeah, we got pancakes. Do you want fruit on them, like strawberries or—”

<i>“Strawberries?”</i>

Jenny jumped a little at the Russian’s gleeful but booming voice. She nodded again, already adding strawberries to the order.

“Yeah, whipped cream and powdered sugar too, if you like.”

The way the big guy’s eyes shined made Jenny add that to the order, not caring that the German muttered angrily from behind his newspaper. Jenny took their menus and came back with the milk and coffee as soon as she let the chef know what the order was. She poured the coffee and slid the milk over to the Russian, expecting maybe another smile. Instead, she received that along with a question.

“What is your name?”

Jenny flushed, scolding herself for forgetting the usual routine over something as trivial as accents.

“Oh, I’m Jenny.”

The big man smiled even wider as he held out his hand.

“I am—” the German coughed and the Russian paused before continuing. “Heavy.”

Jenny’s first instinct was to insist that he wasn’t heavy—but then she realized that it was name. A nickname, she hoped. She shook his hand.

“S’nice to meet you, Mr. Heavy.”

Heavy laughed, shaking her hand firmly.

“No, Mister is too fancy.”

“All right.” Jenny could tell that Allison and Old Joe’s conversation had ended because they were staring at all the commotion. “Heavy it is, then.”

Their food didn’t take long, breakfast never did, and Jenny actually felt herself smiling at Heavy’s delight with his breakfast. His doctor friend didn’t so much as look at her, but Jenny wasn’t about to let that bother her.

When they were done, Heavy shook her hand enthusiastically and thanked her for “the beautiful breakfast.” The doctor rolled his eyes but did give her a slight nod, so Jenny figured that counted as something. The tip was the standard fifteen percent, but Heavy’s paper placemat had been folded into a halo of butterflies.

Jenny had no idea how he’d managed it, his hands were huge. Allison crossed her arms and huffed as Old Joe shook his head and muttered something about foreigners.

“So, who were they?”

Slender fingers ran over the butterfly wings, and Jenny shrugged.

“Dunno. Probably just passing through.”

::::

The thing was, apparently they weren’t just passing through. Jenny worked on Mondays, Thursdays, and the weekend because that was all the time she could spare without it starting to affect her grades in college.

It was the next Saturday, another morning and Jenny was in charge of serving the cops. They weren’t so bad, but she always liked the rookies the best because they were always perfect gentlemen. The rookie this year was a redhead named Sam, and apparently Sam was a huge coffee drinker. He was on his third refill when the little bell on the door rang. Jenny looked up and crowded in the doorway was Heavy and the doctor.

Allison was acting as the hostess, and even from all the way over by the policemen, Jenny could hear Heavy’s voice make its way over the other conversations until it got to her.

“Hello, we would—is Jenny here this morning?”

People were staring, and Jenny quickly turned back to the almost overflowing coffee cup. She went to put the coffee pot back and Allison was there to take it from her.

“Your friends are back. I gave them your corner booth.”

Jenny vaguely remembered nodding before walking to them.

“Good morning Heavy.” Jenny nodded politely to his German doctor friend. “Doctor.”

The doctor returned her nod and Heavy grinned.

“Very good morning, Jenny.”

Heavy was already ripping his placemat, his big fingers folding and pressing to an unseen pattern. The sounds of clinking silverware and murmurs of conversations resumed and Jenny shifted her weight from one foot to the other, tapping her pen lightly on her little notepad.

“Do you have an idea of what you want, or do you need a few minutes?”

The doctor cleared his throat.

“Scrambled eggs with—”

“Rye toast.” Jenny bit her lip, jotting it down. “Got it.” The doctor blinked and his lips twitched up at the corners for a split second. Jenny turned to Heavy. “How about you, strawberry pancakes again?”

Heavy pressed a harsh crease into the paper.

“Do you have blueberries?”

Jenny nodded.

“I do.” All Heavy had to do was smile and Jenny was already writing it down. “I’ll be back with your coffee and milk.”

None of them knew it at the time, but that solidified the tradition. Jenny had more customers to take care of since Heavy and the doctor didn’t come right as the diner opened like last time. Once Jenny was able to get a bit of a break she went back to Heavy’s booth to see how their breakfast was. Instead, she ended up blurting out a question that didn’t have to do with food at all.

“Are you guys on vacation?”

Probably not the most elegant conversation starter… but at least it got the query across. Heavy’s mouth was full, so the doctor spoke up, his eyes hard behind his glasses.

“Retirement.”

Heavy swallowed his food.

“We just got here… the last time we saw you was first day.” Heavy sighed. “The town is so big… very… spacious. We no not know where the things to… ‘see’ are.”

Jenny’s eyes went from the slightly sullen Heavy to the hunched over doctor, who was idly doing his crossword.

“Do you like sculptures?” At their blank and curious stares, Jenny turned over a new page on her notepad and began writing down directions. “He’s a friend of mine, his name is Ricky and he kind of… does everything. Sculptures are just half of his presentation.” She slid the piece of paper between them. The German took it, squinting. “It’s not too far from here.”

The doctor didn’t look too sure, but Heavy was babbling excitedly in what Jenny assumed was Russian. What surprised her was that the German answered him in the same language. It was… quite beautiful to listen to even though Jenny couldn’t understand it. It might have been a small argument, one that the doctor lost because he leaned back in his chair and adjusted his glasses.

“Very well.” Jenny swore that for a moment, the doctor smiled. “You win, schatz.”

“No.” Heavy grinned. “We both win, moy zaichik.”

The tip was the normal amount, but this time Heavy left behind a crane with a bunch of little cranes behind it. Jenny scooped them up and put them safely in her purse before Allison or Old Joe could see.

::::

On Wednesday, Jenny and a few of her friends went to the mall to get some books for their theater studies class. In the discount bin, Jenny found two small books… one was a common German phrase book, and the other was its Russian counterpart.

Jenny told herself that it was a bargain as she bought them.

::::

“Dobroe utro.” Jenny brought their milk and coffee out right away. “Guten Morgen, Doctor.”

Heavy’s response was warm and enthusiastic, but the doctor looked worried. Jenny had practiced the phrases all right, but she assumed that her American dialect made it sound strange no matter how hard she tried to mask it. Heavy grinned.

“You speak Russian?”

The German frowned darkly.

“And German?”

Jenny shook her head.

“No, no, I—uh, well, I brought a few phrase books over the weekend to… you know, be polite.”

The doctor relaxed and Heavy smiled.

“Your Russian… you know how to say certain words?”

Jenny bit her lip.

“Well, Russian is a bit tough. The German was easier for me, actually. But I’m working on it.”

The doctor’s chest puffed out a little, but he still crossed his arms and managed to maintain an air of seriousness.

“Your pronunciation could use some work.”

His strict tone made Jenny jump a little, his eyes remind her of her high school principal.

“Yes, sir.”

There was a pause and the doctor sighed.

“I didn’t say it was awful… it could just be improved.”

Jenny nodded, writing down the doctor’s order; it was already “the usual” in her head. She turned to Heavy.

“We’ve got a special I thought you’d like today. It’s apple cinnamon French toast.”

Heavy smiled and Jenny wrote it down and went back to the chef. She grabbed the coffee pot and went to the policemen’s section, filling Sam’s cup.

“Hey, Jenny.” Jenny looked down at Sam, at his blue eyes and faded freckles. She hummed and he continued. “You seem to like those two guys… those foreigners.”

Sometimes, Jenny wondered if the paranoia would ever leave. Her optimistic professors sang of a future filled with tolerance and peace. Everyone else said that as long as there was still air to breathe that people would always hate each other. Jenny’s smile faded as she pulled back the coffee pot.

“They’re nice old men, Sam. They’re retired.”

Sam straightened in his chair, loosening his collar.

“I’m sure they are, Jenny, I just think you should be careful, that’s all.”

Jenny fought every urge to roll her eyes.

“Thank you for your concern, officer, but I can take care of myself.”

She left before Sam could say anything else.

Heavy loved the special, and he said that the sculpture garden was interesting because, “I am not used to metal being shaped for… art.” Jenny pointed them toward the state park if they wanted to go fishing, and she wound up writing down directions again. They left like they usually did, and a paper frog was hidden under her tip.

::::

Over the months, Jenny actually learned quite a bit of German and Russian from her favorite customers. Heavy was really nice, probably too nice because he’d say, “you speak beautifully.” The doctor, Jenny would call him “Doc” if she felt particularly wily, would make sure her pronunciation was exactly right.

Sam didn’t talk to her as much anymore, but he still left a kind tip so Jenny didn’t take it to heart too much. The morning the rusty camper came rolling in, Jenny had pamphlets for a horseback-riding trail tucked into the pockets of her apron.

Jenny had just gotten a tray with the doctor’s usual and Heavy’s banana pancakes with a side of peaches when the little bell above Old Joe’s door rang. Jenny put down the plate, speaking in German. The doctor was about to give her subtle cues as to how to improve when a hand clapped down on her shoulder, a lazy Australian accent tickling the air.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

The hand dropped and the tall man crossed over in from of Jenny, his aviators shining in the morning light. Both Heavy and the doctor got up, and Heavy hugged him, lifting the Aussie up. Jenny was pretty sure she heard his bones crack. Once he was released, the Australian yanked the doctor forward and actually embraced him.

“Ach!” The doctor grimaced, hitting the Aussie’s shoulder. “Let me go, dummkopf!”

Jenny couldn’t help but stare because the doctor was, to say the least, not a very “huggable” person. He was finally released, his glasses askew and his usually crisp vest and shirt a bit rumpled. The Australian sat down next to the doctor, making him scoot over, and he grinned at the dour looking German.

“You’re just as jolly as I remember.”

The doctor muttered darkly under his breath. Jenny took a deep breath, clutching her notepad tightly.

“Do you—um, can I get you anything?”

He looked at her from over his aviators.

“Your best omelet… with feta.”

Jenny nodded and wrote it down quickly and left the Australian to catch up with his friends. Jenny fetched the policemen their coffee, and she heard one of them grumble, “Another one, can you believe it?” Jenny tried not to look back at their booth; she tried not to notice the fact that Heavy and the doctor were speaking rapidly, much livelier than usual.

When Jenny returned with the Australian’s omelet, she noticed his jagged scar that slashed across his eye. It must have escaped her with the shock of his arrival. She set the plate down in front of him and she almost dropped it because the doctor actually laughed. It was a bit bitter, maybe even hollow, but it was laugh all the same.

“America is not as welcoming as it claims.” The doctor grimaced into his cup of coffee. “Everyone is afraid of Heavy and my accent.” His blue eyes flickered up to Jenny momentarily. “Except for Jenny.”

Jenny froze for a moment before scrambling to compose herself.

“I’m sure plenty of people like you and Heavy, Doctor.” She turned to the Australian. “Would you like some coffee, sir?”

He shook his head.

“Nah, I won’t be here for long, miss.”

He dug into his omelet and Jenny pulled the pamphlets out of her apron and slid them onto the table. Heavy budged over and patted the seat next to him.

“Here.” He grinned. “Sit. We all talk together.”

Jenny had never sat with customers before. She slid into the booth and spread the papers out before the Heavy and the doctor.

“I picked these out for you two. It’s… I’m not sure if you ride horses, but even if you don’t, the trails are really nice for hiking.” She pointed to the one that went up the mountain. “This one especially.”

The Australian tilted his head to the side, making sure to swallow before he spoke.

“What, you’re a tour guide too?”

Jenny paused… then shrugged.

“Kind of… I guess I am.”

He snickered but was quickly elbowed in the ribs by an irate doctor.

“Oi, quit it or else you’ll just have to patch me up again, Medic.”

Jenny could feel her eyebrows rise.

“Medic?” Jenny suddenly wished she’d listened more closely to her uncles’ old war stories. “Were you guys in the army?”

“No.” The Australian answered quickly. “We were… excavators.”

“Oh.” Jenny got up, feeling the eyes of the policemen on her. “I have to make the rounds. Enjoy your meals.”

The Medic nodded and she left. She refilled coffee cup after coffee cup… and when it was time for the Medic and Heavy to leave, the Australian kissed her hand when he wished her goodbye. The Medic rolled his eyes and Heavy laughed at Jenny’s flustered expression.

A paper dinosaur was waiting on the table for her.

::::

The Medic could barely keep his eyes open when he’d walked in, and when Jenny came with their usual milk and coffee, Heavy held a gigantic index finger to his lips. Jenny put the drinks down quietly as Heavy whispered, his eyes lingering on the Medic.

“We must be quiet… doctor had a long night.” Heavy’s eyes drifted back to the Medic. “Many people are sick now… flu, he says.”

Jenny nodded. She’d heard that there was a bug going around. Heavy moved over and Jenny sat down. There weren’t any morning customers yet; the rush wouldn’t start for a few minutes. She sat, shoulder-to-shoulder with the big Russian, her tennis shoe bumping up against his boot.

Sometimes, when Jenny watched the way the other locals would stare at them… at how the mothers would bristle when Heavy made their children laugh from over the booth, or how the policemen were always keeping a wary eye on them… she thought of the sandbox in kindergarten. No matter what there would always be the kids who were left out for stupid reasons. Maybe their shoelaces were the wrong color, or maybe they didn’t go to Sunday school, either way it was enough to somehow justify a lone kid wondering what it would be like to make a castle with someone else for a change.

Jenny knew what it was like to be alone in the sandbox. She sighed, watching the Medic sleep with his head in his hands, the wrinkles in his face slack and less defined.

“You are very kind.” Jenny looked up at Heavy. “I know we are not—doctor and I aren’t—” He paused, trying to find the word. “Expected.”

His word choice made Jenny smile a little as she warmed her hands by holding the Medic’s coffee cup.

“Being… expected is boring.”

Heavy’s gaze returned to the Medic, the lines around his eyes lessening a bit. Old Joe was in the back, Allison with him… doing God knows what. It was just the three of them in the quiet diner, and Jenny watched a bit of the Medic’s hair fall into his face. Without a moment’s hesitation, Heavy reached forward to brush it back. It was so fluid that it wasn’t even close to being the first time he’d done it, his fingers lingering at the doctor’s temple. The Medic sighed, shifting but not opening his eyes.

“Mein liebling…”

Jenny was hardly fluent in German, but she didn’t need to be in order to hear the intimacy of what he’d said. Heavy just smiled and murmured softly.

“Moy golub.”

Later, Jenny brought Heavy French toast and the Medic his usual with tea because of Heavy’s insistence. The Medic glowered but drank it anyway. As a bonus, Jenny presented him with fresh fruit in yogurt (she’d paid for it with her tips later). He smiled, and while he was exhausted, he managed a raspy “Danke.”

When the morning rush started the Medic remained awake. Jenny kept the police at bay by being extra cheerful so they wouldn’t notice how Heavy and the Medic’s legs tangled together under the table. One day, Jenny was sure that Heavy and the Medic would be able to hold hands if they wanted without worrying about any sort of backlash. One day… and Jenny hoped it was soon.

Before they took the bill up to the register (the Medic tried to get Jenny to add the yogurt on it, but she refused) the Medic waved Jenny to come closer. He gently placed the back of his hand on her forehead for a brief moment.

“Sehr gut.” He pulled his hand back, frowning. “Keep drinking fluids. I don’t want to see you in the clinic.”

Jenny smiled at the disguised concern.

“I’ll do my best, Doc.” She squeezed Heavy’s shoulder. “Do svidania.” Heavy smiled and handed her a paper rose. “I’ll see you two next week.”

They both nodded, and just like they were off. Jenny watched their clunky car rattle its way down the road until it was too far for her to see. Eventually, Old Joe would emerge from the back and say that she wasn’t getting paid to stand around staring out of windows. Allison would see the rose and say something like “Russian freak,” and the policemen would need more coffee.

But for a moment, Jenny had that sliver of time to smile to herself and tuck the rose into her breast pocket.



The End