Did you guys mean this? IDK who wrote it. Anonymous 09/06/01(Mon)10:02 No. 145 Tried to do a "_____ and you" for another class and got a drabble that was a whole bunch of NOT AS PLANNED and tl:dr. Not beta'd as of yet, so I hope it's not terribly offensive to the senses. I offer my apologies in advance. --- You have to wonder what made you stop last night. Scout likes to tell stories, sometimes, “I knew this guy, man. He fucking knew things. Like, the future.†While the others booed and hissed, they still listened. Entertainment was entertainment, after all. But they were absurd stories. It was highly unlikely that you ‘knew things’, but none the less, you found yourself lingering. It was late, even for your ilk. Three? Four in the morning? Long before dawn in the cold months of the year. You had left what scant warmth your bed had offered to piss, and cursed your bodily functions the whole way. The porcelain and tile were frigid, and your mood was terrible. Bed was what you wanted, and you hurried back with unerring purpose. Until you passed the attic stairs. The rickety things, with their narrow steps, led to the Sniper’s nest. Despite the cold and the discomfort, you paused there. Perhaps, out of compassion? He almost never left the damned place, and you knew for a fact that it was forsaken by others for a reason. The rest of the base at least managed to generate some kind of heat, either from dying furnaces or bodies. But the nest was just wood, buffeted about by high winds and god’s displeasure. It must have been freezing. You frowned, and not just because of the lack of feeling in your toes. Sniper. What strange creature. There was no doubt that he was good at his chosen profession. He was one of the enemy’s nightmares. Death with naught but a dot for warning. A long distance watcher that turned windows from viewing ports into places of incredible danger. But despite steady hands and nerves of steel, he was remarkably awkward. When one could coax him into talking about his work, or his home, he was charming and confident in his speech. But these instances were few and far between. And above all, only to be found in one on one conversation. When you had approached him, seeking that same ease, in the busy common room or kitchen he had seemed an entirely different person. Halting, clumsy with words, and seeking escape. The others had seemed amused at your confusion. Sniper, they informed you, was vastly anti social. Many called him comrade, and were pleased that his scope was on their side, but few would call him friend. You chewed your bottom lip in deliberation. What moments of dialogue you’d had, were in secluded hall ways, and empty corners. Never in the nest. It was an unspoken rule that the place was forbidden (not that it needed to be enforced, due to its dreary condition) during normal, human hours. Much less at this ridiculous time. But why, then, had you found yourself with an incredible urge to climb those stairs? You’d fought with yourself for long minutes in the dark before giving into your curiosity. The accent was slow. Companioned with your urge to stick your nose where it didn’t belong was the need for silence. It was like being a school child out after curfew, and it left your feeling very, very silly. One foot, then pressure to see if it would creek, careful application of your body weight, and then the other. Over and over. One stair at a time. There was no door at the top. Just a rectangular hole in the nest’s floor, guarded on either side by rails. It was a little brighter at the top, than in the belly of the base. And as you ascended, you realized why. The fool man had a few of the windows open, and starlight fell. It was freezing up here, as you had guessed. Why on earth would he leave the windows open? You could hear the howl of the wind from your crouched position. And something else. But you’d paid it little attention at first. One step, and then another, and you could see the room. You guessed that only the top of your head broached into the nest itself, and even that was obscured by the rails, but you could see rather well. In particular, you could observe the reason that the windows were open. His beloved rifle, some ammunition, and a long cold cup of coffee were placed by the sill of one of the portals. He was still prepped for work. He was surely mad. But where was he? You’d scanned to the left, to a few beaten crates and a coffee maker, and then to the right. There he was. You’d sucked in a breath sharply, but thank god, inaudibly. Now you knew what that sound had been, playing on the edge of your hearing. Breathing. Heavy breathing. Here was your Sniper. Lying on his back on a worn mattress layered with sheets and blankets. His vest was discarded, shirt open, and one fist clenching a handful of the bedding. The other, was wrapped around a rather prominent piece of his anatomy, rising from his open trousers. His trademark hat and glasses had been set carefully aside, so your view of his face had been unimpeded. Eyes screwed shut, mouth closed tightly, with a faint sheen of sweat even in this weather. His hand worked quickly, with surprising force. He was not teasing himself. His fingers arced, squeezing his cock as they rose, and his thumb running over the head at the apex. The end of it glittered with moisture. Every once in a while, he would give himself a particularly violent tug, eliciting a quiet gasp from his own throat. It was hypnotizing. The way his clothing strained to contain him, the sounds your ears could barely capture, the way his spine was starting to arch. His expression began to contort. His brows drew together, and his mouth opened. He seemed…pained? No… /guilty/. A word managed to burst past his lips… …Then his hips rose from the twisted, dirty bedclothes. He came into his hand and across his naked stomach. Or so you imagined. You had not remained to see. Down the stairs and through the hall you went, in a panicked flash. In retrospect, you can only pray that you were as silent upon exit as entry. He’d called your name. /Your name./ There was no mistaking it. Long, sleepless hours of rationalization did nothing to convince you otherwise. And now here you are. In the kitchen staring into a coffee mug, the contents of which were no longer steaming. Most of the others had come and gone, heading to the showers or elsewhere to prepare for the day’s fighting. Which was not more than an hour away. You had best begin your own preparations. Doubtlessly, familiar routines would clear away confusion for the time being. The mug goes into the sink, and you to the room’s exit. Despite its sturdy construction, the door is little barrier to sound. A voice on the other side of the battered oak makes you falter. There are back and forth murmurs, and then silence. An unbelievably long minute later, courage returns and you step into the hall. Spy is there. You nearly leap clear of your skin. This amuses him. The ass. He does not wait for you to initiate conversation. “Sniper,†He informs you, “asked me something curious.†Smoke oozes from the corners of his mouth, which is pulled into a wicked smile. “I am a light sleeper, you see, and he knows this. So, he asks me if you were in bed all last night.†You feel your heart tear loose form its moorings, and drop into your belly. Perhaps Spy can hear its impact, for his smile grows impossibly wider. “I am, of course, an honest man. I told him that I heard you leave your room once, in the earliest of hours, and that you did not return for many minutes after. You seemed in such a hurry then, too.†His eyes are intense, and they shine with a hunger you cannot place. They bore straight into your skull, and you have never felt so naked. “His reaction was… peculiar. I wonder why?†He is the devil. You push past him, and he offers no resistance. Spy’s laugher nips at your heels and chases you down the hall. The impact as you round the corner is sudden and jarring. You clutch your nose, and wait for the world to right itself. Your stammered apologies fall silent as your vision clears. Sniper stands before you and the panic that fevers your brain is mirrored in his eyes. He /knows/. Note: Sorry this took so long. This is my version of the continuation of >>15 Sniper + You ...with sexy times! Be kind...I'm an /afanfic/ virgin writer. Another note: I don’t do accents well, so I will just type as grammatically correct as I can without a beta and leave the audio to your imaginations~ ...Feel free to critique. Nicely. Enjoy~ -- Before you can react, the man grabs your shoulder to keep you from bolting. His grip is a little too strong, and you wince slightly in pain. Glancing around, Sniper leans close to you, and you feel yourself start to get goose bumps. “I need to…to talk to you. Later.†His voice is hesitant, but he seems to force himself to continue. “After the battle…in my room.†In his nest? You feel yourself tense nervously, but you nod in agreement. He seems satisfied, and removes his hand, walking away…probably to return to his lair. You rub your shoulder and walk towards the kitchen, grabbing an orange juice. Not feeling hungry at all, you sit by yourself, drinking slowly. It was going to be a long day. -- Being distracted and nervous had taken a toll on you during the fight. Countless times you respawned because one enemy or another shot you, stabbed you, or blown your face off with a rocket. After the siren that ended the match with a stalemate, you are feeling exhausted and a little achy. Dinner had at least been good; Medic had whipped up some German mess that had turned out to be edible this time. Sometimes you wonder if that crazy man put something in there…because some of your nervousness had faded away as you chowed down on whatever it was the doctor had cooked. Suddenly you found yourself standing at the base of the attic stairs. You don’t even remember leaving the dining hall. The room was lit; Sniper must be up there. He seems to notice your presence, because you hear him clear his throat. “Come on up, then.†The nervousness returned as you set your foot upon the first stair. Hesitating, you glance behind you. No one was around. With a frown, you gather what courage you have and move into the cold room. It looks quite different when it’s lit. While it seemed creepy last night, it’s almost homey now. Stepping into the room, you see Sniper watching you, an unreadable expression in his eyes. He pats the bed next to him. He wants you to sit next to him on the bed? Swallowing, you do as he says, sitting about an inch from him. Sniper removes his had and glasses, setting them on the other side of him before rubbing the back of his neck. “You…were in my room last night, weren’t you?†he said sheepishly. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks as you nod slowly. He groaned in embarrassment. “Then…you heard…†Again you nod, your blush deepening. You’re afraid to meet his eyes, and instead look at the floor. An awkward silence fell between the two of you for a few minutes, though you swear it was an eternity. “I…I’m sorry.†He muttered at last. You glance up, startled, to see him staring at the floor too. His anguished and embarrassed look made your heart squeeze in pain. Suddenly, you realize that you do not want him to look like that. The revelation startles you. “Sorry?†You question his words with a frown. Sniper looks up at you, though he doesn’t meet your eyes. “Yeah. Sorry for uh…aw you know.†He was still too embarrassed to say it. A smile creeps onto your face, though the blush still remains. Without thinking, you scoot closer to the man, who looks confused. “It’s fine.†The blush that had been fading away returned with vigor, making you look like someone spread tomato paste all over your cheeks. “In a way it was kind of…flattering.†And it had been. He could have said any other name on the team, after all. “Really.†Shock crossed Sniper’s face, and his expression had you wondering if you had said something wrong. The man seemed to gather his courage, and his bright green eyes connect with yours. Before you knew it, Sniper’s lips were against your own, and you stiffen in surprise. They were dry, but soft. After a moment you find yourself relaxing, and you lean into the kiss with a small sigh. You are wrapped into surprisingly gentle arms and pulled onto Sniper’s lap. Surprisingly enough, he did so without breaking the kiss. A small noise comes up from the back of his throat, and his tongue runs against your lips hopefully. You part your lips to let him in, and that same tongue slips into your mouth, exploring every inch curiously. Moaning, you straddle Sniper, who gasps slightly and pulls away, looking at you in surprise. Smiling, you decide to take the matter into your own hands and you tug at his shirt. Sniper hesitates for only a moment before pulling his shirt off quickly, his sunglasses catching on the hem and falling in the heap with the article of clothing on the floor next to the bed. You remove your shirt as well, and he stares, a deep flush crossing his face as his eyes admired your upper body. When his eyes finally move up to meet yours, the fierce look of need nearly has you wanting to tear off his pants as well as your own. But Sniper seems to want to take it slow, running his hands up your sides and pulling you against his chest. The feeling of warmth makes tingles run down your body. He kisses your ear, and you gasp loudly. Sniper chuckles. “Not used to that…?†He murmurs, and his lips move down to your neck and down your body, kissing and sometimes even biting. The sensation has you gasping and moaning for more, and you don’t even realize that he’s laid you down on his bed until he is undoing your pants and pulling them off with a swiftness that has you wondering if he’s really as patient as he seems. His hands trail down to your crotch and he pauses thoughtfully. Whimpering, you arch your hips a little, your body aching for touch. He chuckles. “Someone’s impatient.†Sniper’s hands finally reach you, and you exhale in a moan, not caring who hears. His hands are remarkably capable for someone who is alone a good amount of time, and he is quick to find what makes you cry out the loudest. Your hands grip the sheets, and the loss of sensation has you stop in mid-groan as you open your eyes to see what had him leaving you without that glorious touch. You are about to complain when you see him undoing his belt and removing his pants, revealing a rather sizable, and very hard, package. You shift to a sitting position before moving to your knees, and before he can react, your hands are on his erection. He groans softly as your hands stroke his length a few times before you bend down and give his tip a lick. He cries out, his hips twitching violently while his hands find your hair, gripping softly. With a smirk, you take his head into your mouth. He thrusts unexpectedly, and you fight back a gag. “S-sorry, love,†he rasps between breaths. Your lips twitch in what was supposed to be a smile before you take as much as you can into your mouth. Exploring him with your tongue and mouth, you manage a steady pace while Sniper tries his hardest not to shove his whole length into your throat. Soon he pulls back and you let his pulsing member free, looking up at him with a question on your tongue. Before you can ask, though, his lips are on yours and he gently pushes you down onto the bed. His breath was ragged as he pulled away from you, his lust burning in his eyes and making you shiver with eagerness. You know your eyes reflect the feeling, and he smiles. “Are you sure about this…?†This is it: your one chance to say no. Not like you’re going to say anything but yes. You nod, and his smile gets wider as he places his lips back on yours and pushes into you. There is a little pain at first, but as he thrusts in and out at a slow pace, the pain fades and a wicked pleasure replaces it, making you beg for more. The kiss is broken as the two of you concentrate on your lower bodies, establishing a rhythm. When he thrusts down you push back in order to take as much of his length as you can. The gentle pace begins to speed up as time passes, and soon he is riding you at a frantic pace. Your soft moans become cries of ecstasy as you find yourself moving closer and closer to orgasm. Sniper leans down, his breath rapidly fluttering against your ear. “This time, I want you to call /my/ name.†He whispers heatedly. “A-ah! Sniper!†At the top of your lungs you cry out as a white flash of pleasure courses through your body, and Sniper pulls out quickly, jerking himself off a few times before he comes as well. Exhausted, he falls next to you, and you both fall silent except for your heavy breathing. Once you catch your breath, and he catches his, he chuckles and wraps you up in his arms. “Now we’re even.†He mutters gently. You smile and snuggle up close to him as he pulls a blanket over the two of you. It wouldn’t be cold if the two of you shared body heat. A few minutes after the two of you fall asleep, a shimmer is seen by no one as the Spy steps out of the corner with a smirk on his face. “Well. /That/ was certainly interesting.†With a leer at your two sleeping bodies, the man slinks down the stairs, and towards his room. He would have to fix the problem in his pants now…and there was no way he was going to get caught doing so. This is just a bridge between the Sniper + You and the pretty next ‘chapter’ that I decided I’d be attempting for you guys. Scrunchy is my hero, and beta'd this, as well as bashed me over the head because of my terrible issues with past and present tenses. <3 Many thanks to her~ I BRING YOU: Spy + You + Rape. --- Opening your eyes, you are completely startled to see that you are in the arms of Sniper. It takes a minute for you to remember what happened that night, and when you do, you smile a little. As unexpected as last night had been, it wasn’t all that bad. Everyone is a little sexually tense these days, after all. You shift around a bit, and the movement wakes up the Australian. Obviously, he is a light sleeper. He mutters something unintelligible, and lifts his arm up to let you go. Obligingly, you hop out of bed and slip into your clothes before Sniper himself rolls into a sitting position. You laugh a little: though his hair was short, it was still a bit of a mess. He half-heartedly glares at you, shooing you off with a wave of his hand and a muttered, “see you later,†and you trot down the stairs, pleasantly surprised at the considerably warmer temperature of the main part of the base. Almost immediately you run into Spy, whose smile is as unclean as Sniper’s jarate. “What were you doing up in Sniper’s nest, /mon ami/?†He asks with a sneer. You try to walk past him, but he steps to the side to block you again. Glaring at him, you mutter about it not being his business. Spy’s smile only gets wider. “Oh, come now, you can tell me. Did you have a late night chat?†He steps forward, making you loose ground. “Maybe the two of you had a nice, cozy cuddle session. Or perhaps he just fucked your brains out.†The last sentence startles you, and he laughs softly, moving close enough to whisper in your ear. “You can’t hide anything from /moi/,†Spy mutters before you push him away, just as Sniper walks down his stairs. “Eh? What are you two standing about for?†The Australian asks the two of you curiously. Spy just shrugs and goes on his way, probably back to his room. You blush, and follow Sniper to breakfast. --- The day is particularly good. You don't die once, and you even manage to keep the enemy Spy from sneaking into your base. As you eat your dinner, a healthy stew whipped up from Engineer, you wonder what celebrations the team will have tonight. Usually there was some sort of bonfire, or just an enormous drinking session that ended in hangovers and a brutal loss the next day. To your great surprise, everyone just goes about their usual night-time business, finishing their dinners before heading off to bed. With a disappointed sigh, you rise to your feet. Sniper left about an hour ago, just grabbing the stew and going back up to his nest. It hurt a little that he hadn’t even said hello or something. As you walk back to your room, you are again intercepted by Spy. Your eyes roll. “Go away, Spy.†You grumble. “I’m just going back to my room.†You are not about to go up to Sniper’s nest without his permission. Not after last time. Spy, however, doesn’t move. “So rude, /mon ami/, perhaps I just wanted to talk to you,†he says with a devious smirk. You scowl at him. No one with that expression on their face is up to any good. The masked man steps closer to you, though this time you stand your ground. He reaches up as if he wants to touch your face, and you grab his wrist with narrowed eyes. “I said, go away.†You repeat, pushing him backwards with a firm hand, and he stumbles back. His face falls from the ‘I’m-pretending-that-I’m-being-nice-to-you’ expression into a glare so furious that it makes you freeze. Before you know it, the butt of his Ambassador is slammed into your head, and your world goes blank. --- When you wake slowly from the blow to the head, you find yourself in Spy’s room, bound quite firmly on your stomach upon the assassin’s bed. You struggle a little, but he's tied your hands to the bedpost, and your feet to the foot of the bed. The bastard’s even got you gagged with his tie. The man in question is sitting in his desk chair, smoking a cig. Naturally. When he sees you struggling, he smirks. “Ah, /bonjour mon ami/. Did you sleep well?†He chuckles darkly, and you struggle, too dazed and angry to realize your danger. The gag blocks a string of cuss words from reaching Spy’s ears properly. In fact, you sound a bit like Pyro. Giving up, you just growl, resting a moment to catch your breath. Spy is obviously unimpressed. “Rude as always,†the man sighs to himself, rising to his feet and walking over, putting the burning side of the cigarette to your (oh, you’re nude) side. You scream, though it’s muffled by the gag, and try to writhe away from the pain. It’s futile, however, and he pulls away with his crushed cigarette in his hand. He tosses it with a bored expression on his face. “Ah, /mon cher/, I am going to enjoy this.†He leans down to look into your eyes with a wicked grin. Suddenly the gravity of the situation hits you, and you start flailing against your constraints. To no avail, however, and the man is undoing his belt slowly. Only now you see the rather large bulge in his pants. Whimpering what was supposed to be a plea for mercy, you struggle again, hoping just maybe the spare ties that bound you firm would slip loose. To your horror, the knots only got tighter, nearly cutting off your circulation. Immediately you stop struggling, and Spy laughs. When you look back, the man is completely nude save for his gloves and mask. And he’s hard. Almost painfully so. Again you whimper, though it only makes the man smile more. “This will only hurt a little…if you do what I say,†he whispers into your ear, and you glare at him despite your fear. He smirks, taking off the gag, and you gasp for air for a few moments before taking a deep breath to scream. Before you can do so, he slaps you hard enough that tears form in your eyes. “No screaming, first of all,†Spy hisses sharply, and you shut your mouth to cover a sob. “And, no running. My door is locked, so I will be able to catch you before you try and escape.†He unties your hands and legs carefully, and you obediently lay there until he motions you to sit up. When you do, he grabs your head and pulls it down to his erection. “Well?†It’s obvious that he wants you to suck him off. Already you feel like gagging. When you don’t begin immediately, he squeezes your head hard enough that you cough out a cry, before licking his head. He moans, triggering another gag before he jerks your head towards his cock, and you open your mouth reluctantly to let it in. Thrusting his hips, he forces his length down your throat, making you gag violently. He doesn’t even let you give him head, just thrusting in and out while holding your head steady. Over and over you gag, tears running down your cheeks. It was humiliating to be subject to this. What did you ever do to him? “I want you…to know this…†Spy hissed between moans. “Sniper is mine. Understand?†He was doing this because he wanted Sniper? You jerk your head back in surprise, earning a violent smack to the head before he shoves you back into position, and you gag again. Before you actually hurl from the amount of times you’ve gagged, Spy pulls out of your mouth. “On the bed, on your stomach. Now.†You freeze, staring up at the man in horror. He was going to…? With a sneer, he shoves you on the bed without any ceremony. He studies you for a moment, and once you arrange yourself in the way he wanted, he shoves his spit-lubricated erection into you, and you yelp in pain. “You /will/ be quiet!†He hisses, grabbing his knife from the bedside table and slashing your arm with it. Quiet sobs wrack your body as he roughly pulls in and out of you, the pain overriding any sense of pleasure you could get from this. The man mutters in French behind you, moaning occasionally as he picks up speed. All you want is for this to be over. You know he’s close when his French starts getting louder, and his thrusts become erratic. With a grunt, he releases in you, and you gag again, nearly vomiting all over the sheets. When he pulls out, you feel under the pain a sense of afterglow, and realize you had hit orgasm as well, but you hadn’t felt it at all. Was that even possible? “Get out…and remember what I said.†Spy whispers in your ear, and pulls away, grabbing your arm and throwing you roughly by your clothes, folded neatly by the man’s. You hastily put on your clothes and dart to your room. Once the door is safely closed and locked, you hide under your covers in a fetal position. Sobbing yourself to sleep, your last thought is a grim one. You wish that you had never met Sniper. For weeks you avoid Sniper and Spy both, keeping your eyes cast down and remaining in your room when you aren’t fighting or eating. Everyone notices your behavior, especially Medic, who has taken to dogging your footsteps everywhere you go. He asks you questions, however you don’t respond. At all. You haven’t spoken since Spy raped you. You are preparing yourself for the fight when Medic comes up to you, trying to get you to talk once again. “Come now, tell me what’s wrong. You have been all but useless to our team for almost a month. /Something/ is wrong and I must know what it is!†Medic is obviously frustrated today, because his eyes narrow in impatient anger. You stare blankly back at the man, as he pushes his glasses up on his face in irritation. “Mein gott, I am your Medic! I have the right to know!†Sniper walks in at that time, his eyes drifting over to you. You can tell that you’ve hurt his feelings by refusing to speak to him. It’s his fault that Spy did this to you, though, so you push past Medic and Sniper in your usual angry silence. --- Later that night Engineer cooks up a meal of spaghetti and meat sauce; a meal that is welcomed by the whole team. You take a plate and sit in a corner by yourself. Only a few minutes later Spy walks in, looking like he owns the place. Fear strikes your gut and you rise to hurry out of the room. You can’t be anywhere near the man, and as you pass Sniper he catches your eye. It’s then that he makes the connection, and though you move as fast as you can, he follows. Before you can run for the safety of your room, he grabs you and hefts you onto his shoulder with a grunt, and starts walking down the hall. “You’re being a stubborn little ass.†He grumbles as he turns to go up the stairs to his lair. You struggle and beat his back, trying to make him put you down. It was in vain, though. He sits you on his bed, a hand on your shoulder to keep you from running away. Fear rips through your belly. You can't escape, you’re trapped again! The fear gets to Sniper, and he takes his sunglasses off with his free hand. “What the hell is wrong with you, mate? What did I do? You said that…that…†his voice breaks as he stammers, and you blink in surprise, though your anger remains. You didn’t know he’d been this hurt. Good, he aught to be sorry for what he did to you. Wait, he doesn’t know what he did wrong, does he? A flare of anger replaces the fear, and you shove his hand off. Well he needs to know what he did wrong! He made Spy rape you, dammit! You stand as the rage fills your entire body, though instead of lashing out at the man, the anger focuses on your vocal chords. “It’s your fault!†You snarl at the man, taking a step forward. A baffled Sniper backs away with his hands up as if to shield a blow. “Wh-what?†“Because of you he did that to me! That sick, perverted, disgusting asswipe! He said that you were fucking /his/!†Sniper is complete confused, staring at you with wide eyes. Does he think you’ve gone mad? Somehow that makes you even angrier. He shouldn’t be confused! “Who said I was his? I don’t know what you’re –“ “H-he did!†You can’t say his name. You can’t. The anger is chased away by a returning sense of fear; the fear of the slimy man’s name. You back away to sit on the bed again and you don’t realize that you’ve curled up into a fetal position. Sniper sits next to you, placing a gentle hand on your arm, the one that Spy slashed. You inch away, making Sniper flinch back. “You aren’t saying anything helpful…†“S-s….Sp…†You try to say it. You try your very best, but you can’t. Fortunately, Sniper seems to understand. There aren’t very many names with ‘Sp’ in them, after all. “Spy? He said I was his? Fucking spook, he’s crazy. You should know that.†He tries to scoot closer to you, but you push him away with a hand, and Sniper frowns. The Australian is silent for awhile, and you turn your head to see what he’s doing. Sniper’s face is thoughtful. “…What /exactly/ did Spy do…?†His voice was low, and dangerous, though the anger wasn’t directed at you. After all, not many actions end up with the victim not talking for several weeks. You can’t seem to form any coherent statements as you try to explain. “Angry…hit me unconscious…too scared, door was locked, took off his /pants/, made me, he m-/made/ me…†Suddenly you burst into tears, sobs wracking your body, and you find yourself in Sniper’s arms again as he struggles to comfort you. “Shh…†Sniper rocks you back and forth slowly as you cry into the man’s shirt. It’s oddly comforting. For minutes all you do is let yourself be rocked as you cry, until you cannot shed another tear. Finally you are silent, and Sniper stills his movements, though he strokes your hair gently. “You say…that this is my fault?†Sniper looks down at you; you can feel it from the way his body strains, but you don’t look at him. Instead, you focus on his shirt and nod slowly. It was still his fault. You are supposed to be angry…but all that crying sapped the energy from you. To your surprise, Sniper laughs harshly. “Well fine. I’ll fix it then.†He gently lifts you off his lap and sets you on his bed. “Now. Sit here and wait. I’ll be right back.†To your surprise, you obey, lying on his bed as Sniper walks back down the stairs on some mission or another. --- Until you wake up from a gentle shake from Sniper, you don’t realize that you fell asleep. You glance up at him with a confused look, and movement behind the man catches your attention. The sight you see almost has you bolting out of Sniper’s nest. There was Spy, bound and gagged with rope. And damn you to hell if he wasn’t naked, also. “He won’t do you any harm, mate. He’s as tame as a rabbit.†Giving Sniper an incredulous look, you manage to speak again. “What are you going to do to him?†What if what Sniper does makes things worse? Will Spy go after you again? Sniper only chuckles darkly, and Spy struggles to free himself. It was pointless, as pointless as you trying to escape the ties had been. “Not what I’m going to do. What /we’re/ going to do. We are going to teach Spy some bedside manners.†His grin lights up his face in a wild sort of way. Through your fear, you manage to feel butterflies in your stomach. ‘We?!’ What made him think you were going to do anything with Spy? “You know, a little bit of revenge.†Revenge. In a way, that sounds good to your ears. It would teach the man not to mess with you…or Sniper. The fact that you had unconsciously included Sniper in your list of ‘no messing with’ has you surprised for a moment before you are distracted by a furious ramble of muffled nonsense coming from the gagged Spy. “Shut your trap,†Sniper growls, kicking the man to the ground. You find that you don’t have any sympathy for Spy as he writhes on the floor. Placing a booted foot on Spy’s back to keep him from moving around too much, Sniper looks over at you with a raised brow. “Well? How should I start?†The question leaves you confused, though Sniper waits patiently as you work out exactly what the Australian means. He wants you to tell him what he’s going to do to the man? Swallowing, you work up your courage before you answer. “Take off the gag,†The remark has Sniper’s brow raise in surprise. “Then smack his face. Hard.†Shrugging, Sniper obeys, jerking the gag down and backhanding the man. It was hard enough to make spittle fly from the man’s head, which had turned forcefully towards you with the blow. His eyes glare at you with pure hatred, making your fear return in a single, breathtaking blow. Sniper notices and smacks the man’s head the other way. “Do not look at our teammate,†Sniper growls at Spy, who is dazed at the force of the Australian’s hand. “You don’t deserve to look at /anyone/ after what you did.†It was then that you suddenly realize that it wasn’t Sniper’s fault. Sniper couldn’t control Spy’s actions. All your anger suddenly turns completely to Spy, and now that it wasn’t divided between two people, the fury is almost overwhelming. “Cut the bastard,†you suggest suddenly, making Sniper look at you briefly. He nods, and then walks a few steps over to his kukri before returning to Spy. “Got a request as to where?†You lift up your shirt’s sleeve to reveal the scar on your right arm – you hadn’t approached Medic to heal it. Now it would be a permanent reminder of how Spy violated you. The scar ran from your shoulder down to your elbow. “His /left/ arm.†Sniper grimaces in sympathy before turning back to the bound man. His kukri glinted ominously before Sniper jerked him up roughly so his weapon could slash down across Spy’s left arm. Spy screamed; loud enough that Sniper shoved the gag back in place until the Frenchman was just whimpering. The Australian turns back to you, ignoring the blood pooling on the floor. “Like that?†He asks, and a brow rises, waiting for you to respond. The feeling of excitement, and arousal, that you suddenly feel freaks you out a little. You don’t want to be like Spy. But...you can’t help it, but you like this kind of revenge. To your shock, you smile at Sniper, who smiles reassuringly back. What other things could the two of you do to Spy…?