This is my first venture into the world of Red vs Blue and was inspired by boredom and in celebration of reaching the 100th episode without brain liquification. It's just a really long drabble about a day in the life. Bonding more than anything and done in good humor. I hope you like it and if you do be kind enough to leave me a review. Good or bad I want to know how I did for a newbie. So yeah...thanks.

Disclaimer: I don't own Red vs Blue or any of its characters. They belong to Rooster Teeth and I make no money from this story, I do solemly swear.

It was, after a continuous amount of discussion, general observation and/or ignoring of personal opinion and copious amounts of blatant violence, agreed upon to be a fairly nice day. Just hot enough to melt skin but not enough to peel the paint off their armor. The last time that had happened the Reds, in all their wisdom, had attacked and, with varying degrees of discoloration, color blindness and rampant stupidity, it had ended up being a free for all.

Sarge had a blast. He'd actually had a plausible reason to shoot Griff in the face (not that he ever needed one but, for the sake of morale and the ongoing pool on whether he actually possessed any sanity, which he was currently winning he might add, it was necessary). Donut and Caboose, in their constant (and surprisingly drug free) confusion had mistaken each other for long lost relatives and had a full conversation on interior decorating, pole dancing and whether tanks could be considered suitable spouses if Tex and Sister were actually the last two women on the planet. No one tried to stop them…if they were lucky, their combined stupidity would create a black hole that would suck them in. Weirder things had happened for less.

Grif and Church had been content to do nothing. It wasn't like their contribution would have accomplished anything. And in this war…it was perfectly acceptable. Necessary even. Actual talent might lead to one side winning. Talent meant effort. Effort meant caring. Something neither actually cared about. So they did nothing. And they were okay with that.

But the whole point was that it was hot. Way too hot to exist, let alone be productive. So they decided to sit in the natural shade of the base, each using the excuse of patrolling (the Red base was directly in front of them therefore, in Tucker logic, facing one direction and leaving their flank and back unguarded made perfect sense. And Church, who had no idea why he was even alive in that kind of heat, couldn't find the strength to argue.) Besides, the Red's weren't clever enough to be subtle. If one came by they would know. Stupidity had its own frequency.

"So she's all like 'This is your baby' and I was like 'No way, he doesn't even look like me' and she was all like, 'He's black' and I drew the line cause, nice ass or not, racial discrimination is not acceptable adult conversation."

"Tucker…you are black."

"Yeah but, when it comes to possible child support and responsibility issues, I like to go with the 'I'm tanned' approach…"

"Black, black...the 'If it was between you and a pile of ashes we still wouldn't be able to tell' kinda black."

"Okay, I get it…"

Church clicked his tongue in rapid succession and Tucker nearly knocked him out with the butt of his gun. If it had just been 1,000 degrees cooler he might have actually hit him. Not that it would have done much. Stupid cyborg bastard.

"I'm not African black you asshole. That was completely unnecessary and counterproductive to our bonding exercise."

"Oh, oh…Church!...Church, I got a story."

"I don't care Caboose…"

"So, one time I was at my uncles house and he, he took of his pants and told me that if I touched it the bump would go away…"

"Oh god…"

"And my mom, she told me that if someone forces you to do something you don't want to do its called rape and I told him that but he said it wasn't rape it was 'surprise sex' so I…"

"Hey, Caboose, let's play a game. Hold your breath…hold it for as long as you can. Hold it until I tell you to breathe out."

Caboose didn't respond but by the sudden halt of air through his helmet both could tell he'd been dense enough to listen. Not one's to look a gift horse in the mouth they continued gazing into the distance, watching the way trees randomly combusted and rocks became natural charcoal. Nothing out of the ordinary really.

"This is kinda nice. We haven't had a chance to talk without some stupid asshole with an end of the world scheme interrupting. Almost feels like the good old days."

Church turned to him, staring awkwardly and Tucker leaned back slightly, a little afraid.

"What 'good old days?' I still hate you, Caboose won't shut up and we're trapped in a boxed canyon without any idea why. No day in this war is good. Never was good, never will be good. Ever…"

"…Well, that's one insecurity reaffirmed. Great talking to you Church."

"Hey…hey Church…it's getting dark…I, I can't see…" Caboose gasped, reminding the both of them that he was still alive after three minutes of blissful silence. Tucker sighed and continued to stare toward the Red base, wondering what they were doing. It was way too quiet. Maybe Sarge had finally snapped and killed all of them. He really hoped so, he wanted to win the pool.

"That means your winning." Church deadpanned, clearly unimpressed with the whole thing. A seven foot robot with a Latvian accent claiming to be his father from another dimension wouldn't have made Church blink at this point in his life. War at Blood Gulch had kinda killed surprises for him.

Gasp "…Yay!" Thunk.

"…Is he okay?" Tucker would have leaned over but his armor was sticking uncomfortably to his skin and Caboose was too far away.

"Do you really care?" Church snorted, picking up the sniper rifle and looking through it for nothing better to do.

"Not really…"

"Exactly. So shut up and be grateful. Our chances of surviving this war sane just increased."

Tucker fell back into the grass, staring up at the sky. A cloud rolled by. And another…and another…and look at that…another one. He was on a roll.

"You know…we should bond more often. Next time I'll get us a few girls and some cigars. Maybe we'll be able to get that pole out of your ass long enough for you to get a lap dance."

"…Fuck you Tucker."

"Sorry dude, you're not my type."

"You know what I think…" Caboose began, making a return to the living. He was cut off by twin shouts of "Nobody cares Caboose!" and instantly quieted down. There was an awkward silence before Church yawned, Caboose fidgeted and Tucker sighed.

"We suck."

"…Old news Tucker."

All in all it was a fairly nice day.