I need to write more shenanigans... To answer an earlier question, the mysterious (and possibly radioactive) package Medic mentioned was essentially a McGuffin, but I've been thinking of spinning it into the starting point for another story... >>63 I like Marty's suggestion. ____________________________________ When Sniper awoke the next day, his first thoughts were of malaria. (Oh God, not this again... where am I? How..?) His whole body ached terribly, and he was in the grip of furious chills. As he started trying to sit up, the sour taste of bile came surging up the back of his throat; he lay back down promptly and grimaced, clutching a hand over his face. (The bed's soaked... how long have I been ill?) Bits and pieces of the previous night were all he could dredge up from his memory. Squinting around the room, he spotted his clothes draped over a folding chair, his hat and glasses resting on the seat itself. He suddenly had a weird, foggy recollection of Soldier forcing him to march in the rain. (Wait, it wasn't rain, it was a cold shower. We were in the communal shower room. Me and some of the other blokes, why were we...) Despite the damp bed he was lying in, Sniper felt a warm sense of relief flood over him, more powerful than the hangover he was suffering. He even grinned in spite of himself, sagging back against the wet mattress. (Not malaria. It's not malaria, I'm not dying in a jungle somewhere.) He couldn't recall how the incident in the shower room had played out, or who had taken him to his room and wrestled him out of his wet clothes, but in retrospect he was sort of grateful. (Give me something dry to wear after I've had a proper shower.) Sniper was feeling too decrepit to care if anyone saw him wandering the halls in a damp bed sheet, but his trip to the shower room went unnoticed. After a much-needed soak under the hot water, he squirmed into his wrinkled clothing and went to see if there was still coffee on in the mess. As he entered the mess hall, the lingering smell of breakfast made Sniper's insides churn, but he was determined to get coffee before he worried about anything else. A voice caught his attention, and he peered through his mercifully dark glasses to see who was in the room. “Well, look what the cat dragged in... G'mornin', stretch,†Engineer said cheerfully. He seemed to be reading Friday's newspaper and nursing a big mug of coffee. Sitting across from him was Demoman, who had fallen asleep face-down on an empty plate. “G'day,†Sniper croaked. His mouth had the texture of sandpaper, and tasted much worse. After draining the carafe into his favorite mug, he poured himself a glass of water for good measure, and headed over to park himself beside Engineer. “Everyone else been through 'ere already?†“A few of 'em. I saw the big fella' leave with two cups of coffee, I reckon he's got his hands full dealing with Medic. ...you musta' slept through the temper tantrum he was throwin' earlier, huh?†Sniper furrowed his brow pensively. Something about the doctor was nagging at him, but he couldn't remember what. “...this about 'is hearse?†Engineer burst into laughter, then tried to quiet himself as Sniper cringed from the noise. “Hearse? Well now, I don't think it's quite that bad. Wouldn't know it to have heard Medic earlier, though. Seems like some of you partyin' folk musta' upchucked all over the inside of the darn thing. He was livid.†“...weren't he drinkin' last night, too? I- it's all sort of a blur now, but I saw him an' Heavy doing shots of... ...I dunno, there was something weird in it. Coffee beans, I think.†Sniper began to slowly rehydrate himself. His stomach wasn't too keen on the arrangement, but after last night, he imagined he could see the cells of his body, drawing the water in like tiny sponges. He began to feel better, bit by bit. The Texan started to talk, then broke into a grin and had to keep himself from laughing too loudly. “Jes' between you and me, the Doc was pretty loaded. Wouldn't doubt that some of the mess is his. ...aw, I shouldn't be amused by his bad luck. Guess I wouldn't be laughin' if it was my truck.†A smile crept across Sniper's face as he listened to his friend talk. He started into his coffee and sighed, leaning against the table. Across from them, Demoman snored peacefully despite the toast crumbs in his moustache. “Well, sounds like you remember more 'bout what I was doing last night than I do... what about you, truckie? All quiet at the... ...wait, I think I saw-†Sniper felt nauseous all of a sudden, and tried to blink away the spots that were flashing in corner of his eyes. “W- were you there when... I think Spy was talking to me, but then 'e got whispering in my ear, and you showed up...†Engineer's grin faded and he suddenly looked very small and embarrassed, diverting his gaze to the tabletop. “...yeah,†he said quietly. “Yeah, I saw that. ...say, I think we gotta' talk. I know you're- I mean, that you and Spy must be... y'know. But I gotta' tell you something, or it'll eat away at me 'til I lose my mind.†Sniper grimaced, feeling something tighten in his chest. “No, it's not like that at all. I... urgh, I hate that bastard.†He drained the rest of his coffee, then rose to his feet unsteadily, weak-kneed and anxious. “...c'mon, I know a good place to sit down and have a chat. Dunno if I can take th'smell of food much longer, anyhow.†The musty smell of Sniper's van calmed his nerves a bit, but as he and Engineer sat down on the battered cot that served as a bed, both men knew the real reason this was a good place to talk – there was barely enough room for two people, let alone three. At such close quarters, even a cloaking device wouldn't let Spy eavesdrop on them without being caught. “So, what's on your mind?†Sniper asked, looking sidelong at his Engineer. His stomach knotted up as terrible possibilities sprang to mind. (It's too much for him to tolerate, isn't it. I can't expect him to look the other way, not after last night. Oh God, I never should have told him anything, I knew this would drive him away. Knew this was too abnormal for him to put up with. It's a sin, that's what they call it.) The possibility of losing his best friend on the team loomed large in Sniper's mind; being a loner was easy back when he had been working in the wilderness, but living with eight other people changed the equation. With a gaggle of team-mates for contrast, he'd soon start feeling like a recluse. Engineer pried his goggles off, and seemed to wilt with trepidation. The look in his eyes was one of anxiety, more than anything else, and he absentmindedly wrung his hands together while searching for the right words. “I don't know how to put it rightly,†he finally said, and gave a drawn-out sigh. “It's something I've- well, something I've known for a while. I just didn't wanna' admit it, not... not even to myself.†Now Sniper felt confused. These weren't the words of someone who was looking for a polite way to terminate a friendship. It sounded more like Engineer was trying to confide to him a terminal disease, or some crippling health condition. He frowned and tried not to sound too worried. “Are you alright? I mean, is there something terribly wrong with you? ...y'know, something respawn won't fix?†Sniper's mind was whirling with words like 'cancer' and 'dementia', so he wasn't reassured when Engineer heaved another sigh and mumbled, “...sorta'.†He half-turned and put a hand on the little guy's shoulder, eyes wide with concern. “Have you told the Doc'? ...is there anything can be done about it?†Engineer looked at him for a long moment, then clasped a hand over Sniper's and started to laugh. It was a weird reaction, but something about the American's posture suggested relief. After a few awkward moments, Engineer regained some of his composure, and leaned against Sniper's shoulder as he caught his breath. “Aw, geeze... I'm sorry, I didn't- it's not somethin' like that, I wasn't tryin' to make you worry... it's just that... dammit, we're both terrible with words, ain't we? ...this thing I'm talkin' about, it's been botherin' me just about forever. Yer probably the last person I should be worried about tellin' this to, except...†He rubbed his eyelids and sagged against Sniper, letting out a low whistle. Sniper swallowed with an audible click; he felt as though there were a fistful of gravel stuck in his throat. Fighting against every screaming fragment of his mind that told him this was a bad idea, he reached his other arm across Engineer's back and gave the man's other shoulder a gentle squeeze. (It's a harmless gesture. We're mates, right? It don't have to mean anything more than that.) “...I'm awful fond of you. Y'know how hard it can be, for a man ta say some things,†Engineer murmured. He rested his cheek on Sniper's collar, and meshed their fingers together lightly. The Australian's chest tightened painfully. He'd been on an emotional roller-coaster ride for the past few days, and some bitter part of him thought this was just icing on the cake. (First me father disown me, then I get flippin' blackmailed, and now this. ...my old life was easier. Being completely alone is easier. What the hell am I getting myself into..?) Spy's poetic words of admiration had been easier for him to stomach, in some ways. (Everything that bastard does is some sort of lie. Who knows, maybe he isn't even sure if he's telling the truth about anything anymore. ...besides, I hate him. Bloody piker.) Engineer, on the other hand, was anything but deceitful by nature. This meant that Sniper was dealing with a genuine confession of... something. (Of love? Christ, I don't even know what love is. Lust, sure. I've got some experience with that. But love?) The moments ticked by as Sniper's mind raced. He knew that he and Engineer were friends – he'd go so far as to say that. Was it something more? Engineer had seemed rather shy and avoidant since Sniper came out, but now he knew the reason; looking back over what had transpired that week, the little guy's behaviour suddenly made more sense. (I should have figured it out. Maybe months ago. He never holds my hand or brings me flowers or anything like that, but... we're pretty tight, aren't we? He's always been there for me. Always makes me feel happier, just seeing him. ...I trust him more than anyone else here, don't I... I'd do favours for him that I wouldn't do for anyone else.) Tension coiled around Sniper's head like a snake, his heart was aching with uncertainty. He knew that he cared greatly for Engineer, to the point that thoughts of losing their friendship had been agony. But did he love him? Could he love him, let alone love anyone? And if he didn't know for sure, was it worth the risks to try? (There's only one way to find out, isn't there?) Trying not to choke on his words, he whispered, “'m fond of you too, truckie.†He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against Engineer's temple, feeling the man's blonde stubble catch on his own unshaven chin, and the crushing pain in his chest began to subside. They sat like this for a while, as though each man was silently digesting his newfound sense of peace. As calm settled over both of their troubled spirits Sniper was sure that new questions would surface to restore doubt, but for now all he wanted was to rest. He could wait for more answers. Engineer seemed to feel the same way, and remained snuggled up against him until a knock at the door interrupted the silence. As they hastily disentangled themselves, there was a second and more furious knock, and Medic could be heard yelling outside the camper van. “Herr Sniper, come out here at once! I know you are one of ze dummkopfs who is responsible for ze state of my wagon, and you are going to fix it RIGHT NOW!†Sniper groaned and frowned at the door. “Christ, not now... I guess I oughta' give him what he wants, before he barges in 'ere.†He rose to his feet, and paused to look down at Engineer. “Look, ah- meet me later? There's- I, I really wanna' talk more, about... y-y'know...†“Of course,†Engineer said, and smiled shyly. “You can find me in my workshop, I've got plenty to do there in the meantime.†“Right, I'll be there.†Sniper tipped his hat, then hurried out before Medic could decide to break the door down.