Aww, thanks, you guys. >>4 At some point my headcanon view expanded to include a limited number of most classes (and the veritable Zerg-rush of Soldiers we sometimes see in the Valve videos)... I have a ridiculous amount invested in the ones I never even write about, just mentally. I have lists of names I imagine some of them have, or how various members of any given class are different despite looking identical to any outside view... I might spend way too much time thinking about this stuff. (But I do really like to think that those who manage to stay on teams together for a long time without being switched around definitely develop close bonds) (Actually, nice Engineer is platonically close to the shell-shocked Spy. I hadn't yet introduced Four's lover... but I can promise refinement. If I can write the scene so that I like it, I kind of want to use said nice Engineer to explore the idea of combat fatigue/PTSD in a universe where combatants (almost) never die...) ~~~Ch. 2~~~ The Tap Room, as it turns out, is... Well, it is quite the gauge for the locals, that at least is true. During the day, it is home to depressing drunks-- a heavily bearded man who mumbles to himself, a man who looks like an unemployable ex-farmhand, a dead-eyed woman... The BLU Demoman arrives shortly after I do-- I look up expectantly when the door swings open, but it is only him. There are two of his class that I have worked with more than once or twice, but he is not one of them. He nods to me, but thankfully he is not keen to socialize with me. The door swings open again, again my heart flies into my mouth. Again I am disappointed, this time by my own opposite number. In the instant that our eyes meet, I can see his expression go from pleased to guarded, and after a long moment he leans against the bar not far from me. "I don't believe we are acquainted." "I don't believe so." I nod to him. "So you are BLU's man at Doublecross now... Well, I suppose we will wind up acquainted. In a manner of speaking." He snorts. "I hope you will be a worthy opponent, at least." "I hope I will be as well." I am served, and raise my glass to him. "Have you been at Doublecross long?" "No, I was at Gravel Pit. You?" "Teufort. Before that, my team did a stint at Thunder Mountain." "Teufort. How banal... I do not think I have ever been at Thunder Mountain. Exciting?" "I would not really know. I spent much of my time there inside a refrigerator." I shrug. He laughs. "Also banal, I take it." "Terribly. Removed from civilization." "They always are." He turns to the barman. "Muscatel would be too much to hope, I imagine?" The barman says nothing. "A martini, then." He sighs, disgusted. "What did I tell you? Completely removed from civilization." The door opens again, and this time it is my Sniper. He approaches, looks between the two of us warily. "Making friends?" "Perhaps you would not understand, bushman," The RED Spy says, shooting a withering look down his nose. "But there is no reason why a civilized man should not behave in a civilized manner when confronted with his enemy. Or I suppose you could just douse them in urine." My Sniper shrugs. "Sure there are worse things to be doused in. Lighter fluid." I laugh, much to the other Spy's surprise. "So. Bustling metropolis here, yeah." He takes the stool next to where I stand, leaning back against the bar, his legs sprawling out so that one knee touches my elbow. "It is not quite so provincial as Teufort, no." I smile. "What will you drink?" "You know me." I roll my eyes. "Very well. Bartender, this man will drink whatever cheap beer you have lying around with little complaint." "Now that's not nice." He swats lazily at me. "Or true. Long as I'm in town, I'll take the best they've got. Anyway, I'm buying this round." "You know each other." The RED Spy's expression is unreadable. "When we're not stabbing each other, he tries to rob me at the card table, yeah. Sorry, what was that you were saying about civilized men before?" "Well." He takes his martini and stares into it a long moment. "Of course I did not think the system would be foolproof. Are you friends with many of your old enemies off the field, Monsieur Sniper?" "I don't believe in holding a grudge off the clock." "No, nor I. Honestly, when I did not know any of my current allies, I-- almost-- hoped I might at least see a familiar enemy. Well. You mentioned the card table, perhaps we will get to know each other over the poker game. I understand it was a regular activity at Granary-- where our Heavy was of late." "Sure. Maybe. If I'm not off on my lonesome." Sniper nods, smiles. He digs a bill out of his vest to pay for the beer when it comes, and I watch him take a long pull of it. We stay in the bar a while longer-- long enough for us both to finish our drinks, and long enough for his teammate to depart. The other Spy's demeanor is still impenetrable, but no warning bells went off. He just has a strange disconnect about him... his first time being traded to a new team, perhaps, though that only makes sense if he was close to his old team, and that is unlikely... Perhaps just a different style of poker face, in which case it is commendable. I cannot figure him out. We sneak out, when we are able, vanish down an alley-- literally, in my case-- to reach his van. "I was so afraid it wouldn't be you," He slams the camper door shut behind us and begins tearing at my clothes. "I went crazy each time someone in that bar was not you," I admit, struggling to do away with his shirt. "We won't be so lucky every time, if they shake us up like this often." He cradles my head and kisses me, the kind of kiss that sends heat curling through the belly and weakens the knees. "Maybe the experiment will not work and they will abandon it. There is a good chance our Heavy and Medic will refuse to work with each other, did you know that? Because the Heavy says, this is not his doctor, the Medic says he cannot work with this Heavy and he thinks he will just follow a Soldier around instead... If it like this on all the teams, then the arrangement is a disaster," "For same teams, maybe. But there's no reason not to send us out against different people." He slips my balaclava off. "I just-- I don't want that. But I can't just sit here and think it's always gonna go so good for us." "I have a post box in Teufort, along with the hotel, outside of BLU's aegis. If I am stationed anywhere near there, I will be able to at least check for messages on my weekends, even if I cannot stay long in the hotel. If we are separated, you could try to write. Even if it is a long time before I can get it, it is something." "Yeah. Except I get all my post through RED..." "You can set something up. In the next town, if we are not together. You can set something up, just so that you can write me. They may go a long time before changing things again, but we can at least have a plan." "Yeah. Sure." He pushes my trousers down and pulls me in close. "Sure. A plan." "It is better than nothing." I wind my arms about him. He squeezes my ass lightly and backs me the few steps to his bed. "Maybe it will be a long time, before we need to worry. At least we don't have to worry today, yeah?" "Yes," He slips his hands down and grabs my thighs, lifts me up just slightly, our mouths clashing against each other as we land on the mattress. We bounce once, I cut my lip on his teeth as we do, and he hisses out a curse and pulls back. "Sorry," He sweeps his thumb across the split, gentle. "Fuck, you're bleeding, sorry," I laugh. "You bite me a little too hard in bed and that is a crisis? Every day we die perhaps a hundred times, sometimes at each others' hands, but my lip bleeds and this you need to agonize over?" "Well, I didn't mean to!" "My fault just as much as yours." I push his hand away and kiss him. "That will teach me to try to kiss you while we are falling." A lesson I'll remember for all of a day, if that... Kissing him is intoxicating, falling into bed with him doubly so. How could I resist combining the two? He kisses my bottom lip softly before trailing down my body. "Still sorry." "Mm, I don't even notice it," I stroke his face. He catches my glove with his teeth and tugs at it. I already know the little uneven marks I will find in the leather later, but like battle scars, any damage to my clothes will reset with the respawn when next I am killed. I should retire this pair, get new gloves and keep these bitten forever... a tangible reminder of the way he strips me with animal need and the marks he leaves other places, beneath the suit. There is nothing I can do to keep those from fading when respawn takes me up, but if I changed gloves, I could keep one set of teeth marks always... Once the gloves are stripped away, I bury my fingers in his hair and stroke his scalp, as his mouth maps out my skin, like he is desperate to taste all of me, like being devoured... like I do him a favour merely by lying here. "Mon grand," I murmur, tracing a finger along his ear, sweeping a thumb along his cheekbone. "Mon beau, mon amour..." The growl against my skin and sucking kiss to my hipbone are all the answer I need, to keep up the whispered encouragement. I am whispering them still when we are both drained and passing the customary cigarette between us. "Love you." He slips it between my lips, avoiding the split. "Can you stay? Still early." I shake my head and sit, reality an unwelcome intrusion. "I do not know when my ride back to the base intends to leave. I may already be missed at the bar." He watches me dress. I find a scrap of paper and a pen among his belongings and write down the address for my post office box in Teufort. He is still naked, when we kiss one last time before my exit. The Engineer has indeed beat me back to the Tap Room, where he is laughing with the Demoman. They both take one long look at me before laughing all the harder. "Doesn't take you French boys long to pick up a lady, does it?" He slaps my back. "Is it that obvious?" I smirk and adjust my cuffs. "Aye, looks like you bagged a real wildcat, laddie." The Demoman does the same, and with rather more force. "Wild enough." I allow. "But I'm sure, Labourer, you had an enjoyable time at the bookstore." "Library. And maybe the only lady I picked up has been dead a couple hundred years, but I'm perfectly happy with how I spent my day." He picks up his stack of books and leaves his empty bottle. "Demo, you need a lift?" "N-- Probably. Probably a good idea." Well. Among my new team I already have a reputation as a ladies' man... That could be useful, I suppose. It is not as though they can ever learn the truth.