It was another annoying day in Valhalla. Grif had again snucked away, but not on his favorite edge, as Tucker knew this place too. So he was strolling around, looking for another place he could reach easily and be well hidden. So on the side of the reds, Grif wandered in the complete opposite of his favorite place. It was also a cliff, but he didn't know it that well. But soon he found a little entrance, obviously a path to get to another edge.

Cautiously the orange soldier entered the cave. He looked around if bats were around. He was afraid of bats and he didn't want to meet them. But luckily the cave was too short and too well illuminated for bats to sleep. So the soldier went through and soon found himself on a bigger edge than his favorite spot, the sea directly under him. He really would think of making this one here to his favorite one. He would take the hidden box up there to this spot here.

But for the moment….

Sitting down and taking off the helmet, he opened one of the storage cases and took the pack of cigarettes out. Taking one out and lighting it on, he took a deep breath of it. Keeping the smoke in his lungs enjoying the slightly scratching in his lungs and throat.

Letting the smoke escape through his nose, the yellow soldier just followed the smoke with his eyes until it disappeared somewhere. It was really a peaceful moment. Until…

"Grif, how many times did I told you not to smoke?! You're ruining my lungs!"

"They're mine now. And I hadn't ask you to do that, kiss-ass." Retorted Grif, deliberately again taking a deep sip from the cigarette and blowing it in the face of the maroon soldier. It made him cough.

"Grif! You asshole, stop blowing smoke in my face, that's disgusting!"

"Always kissing the ass of Sarge is also disgusting!"

"If you wouldn't always be revolting against Sarge and his orders, he wouldn't try to kill you all the

time!"

"He's trying to kill me anyway. If I'm working or not, so what's your problem?" Grif gave Simmons an annoyed look.

Sarge hated him. And that not because he was lazy or something. Sarge just hated him for being Grif. For being how he was. So he didn't really care anymore. He also wouldn't have the possibility to return home. They were in the future. Everyone on the earth he knew was dead. Only the guys here he knew. So if he couldn't return, or returning and having nowhere to return to, he wouldn't make the useless effort of being a good soldier. It didn't matter after all.

Again Grif wanted to take a sip of the cigarette, but she was snatched away before he could do so. "Hey you asshole, that's mine! Give it back!" Growled Simmons, getting up on his feet and looking to the visor, approximately the height Simmons eyes were.

"I won't allow you to smoke in my proximity."

"Why do you fucking care?! You have a damn artificial lung! You can't get lung cancer!"

"But you could."

"So what?"

"Grif you're acting like a stubborn child." Now also Simmons took off his helmet, looking at Grif. He didn't seemed angry as Grif suspected him to be. But still the orange soldier looked up to the maroon one. Again sighting, the cyborg sat down beside Grif, looking out on the sea. For a moment, there was only the murmuring of the sea audible.

"Look Grif. It wasn't like I gave you my body party just because I wanted to become a cyborg. But it was the only possibility to safe your live. So don't act so gruff against me."

"So you actually say that you care about me?"

"Yeah, you're at least the only one that gets me down on the ground when I'm starting to freak out."

"So that would be about ten times a day?" Asked Grif with a crooked smile. It was actually new to him and somehow also a bit a nice feeling to know that at least someone was caring. It made everything more bearable.

Again after some moments of quiet, where both were just sitting side by side, Grif again asked: "And why are you so into that smoke-free thing anyway?"

"My mother died of lung cancer. She was chainsmoker. My dad left us when I was a child."

"So you think I could end up the same way?"

"Well yes. Your own lung, or at least that was left over from the crash, already had shown signs of cancer. So that's why I try even more to bring you to stop smoking.

"Well and how about telling the truth next time?"

"Just coming by and tell you that out of nowhere? Pretty awkward. And you wouldn't have believed my story anyway."

"Well that's true. But I won't quit smoking just because of that."

Now Simmons threw him an incredulous look as if he told him that he was god. Grif only laughed at that expression.

"I just promise to reduce my smoking. But I don't know if I actually will be able to quit it. It's something like a…" Grif stopped in search of the right word.

"Liberation?"

"Yeah something like that. It's a way to break free from the daily rut."

"You could clean up our room to get out of the daily rut."

"That's work Simmons. No relaxation."

"Right. But smoking isn't the best pastime."

"That's why I said I would try to decrease the amount of smoked cigarettes."

"Okay, let's settle with that for the moment."

"And if I really should get lung cancer we still could take Donuts lungs for me."