A buddy of mine said to me that clearly Sniper is a creeper and has a crazy sex van with a heart-shaped bed. So this happened. That Van Engineer didn't know what to think. It had been a busy day. A long, hard push for the payload was followed by a rather over-the-top victory dinner. Pyro's secret recipe baby-back ribs still sat heavily in the Texan's gut. He'd gone for a short nap on the cot in his workshop, a pork coma unavoidable, and woken hours later to find night had fallen. Laying on his workbench had been a note scrawled using one of his carpenter's pencils. Truckie, Nice work today. Thinking maybe we can spend some alone time tonight. See what kind of trouble we can get up to. I'll be in my van. Come on over. -Mundy Sniper didn't often leave notes, and he used his name less often. Use of their real names was forbidden on Builder's League United property, as part of their contracts. Sniper, for all of his professionalism, had always found it hard to continue that trend once things had progressed past friendship between them. Engineer had a good chuckle, pocketed the note so nobody would see, and headed to the parking lot in back of the base. So there he stood, outside the door to Sniper's beat-up camper van. The thing was a beast. Coated in dust, rust around the fenders, and dents aplenty, it stood as a monument to Sniper's lifestyle. Engineer had never seen the inside. Generally, Sniper spent his nights out in the van, but would spend his free time in the base. He was a loner when he wanted to be, and knew all the best nooks and crannies to hide in around the base, but knew easy access to the men he had come to trust was a valuable asset. Plus, if he didn't have worry about restocking the supplies in his van, why would he use them? Engineer steeled himself for a moment, and fingered the note crumpled in his pocket. He was looking forward to having a night with Sniper, alone and to himself. It was no small show of trust that he'd been asked here, and the Texan knew it well. He raised his gloved hand and knocked twice on the door. Sharp, short taps. He waited. “Oi, Truckie? Come on in!†Sniper called from inside, his smile practically audible. Grasping the flimsy handle of the door, Engineer swung it open just enough to slide in, and entered, closing it behind him. He thought he'd been ready for this. Now, he was just bewildered. The van was dimly lit inside, by one small standing lamp in the corner. It had a heavy shade on it that brought a yellowness to the light, a warmth that pervaded the interior of the vehicle. Soft jazz music played on a hi-fi sitting on a table, and rose petals were scattered over every surface. The ceiling was completely mirrored, and the night stand had a pump-bottle filled with lubricant sitting on it, along with a few sex toys proudly displayed. Those were... very large dildos. Most striking, however, was the bed. It was large, filling most of the van, and shaped like a heart, with a padded headboard that had hardware built onto it to tie things to. The sheets were purple, and silken, and lying atop them was Sniper, naked, save for his hat covering his groin. He tilted his aviators down his nose, grinning with those sharp teeth shining in the low light. He arched an eyebrow. “Well?†Engineer realized that his jaw had weight, and that he was no longer actively supporting it. Taking in all of the sights once again, his eyes finally trailed up from that hat to Sniper's face, and the attempt at a seductive expression he was wearing. He laughed; a short, single chuckle. He tipped off his helmet and threw it aside. “Boy,†he pulled off his goggles, “I'm gonna blow that dumb look right off your stupid face.â€