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Scout grunted in discontent as he was shaken awake by a sudden air pocket that sent their plane plunging downwards for at least 70 feet. He had no idea how close to their destination they were, but judging by the dimmed lights they would have to sit tight for at least another hour. Heavy was snoring loudly in his seat and occasionally muttered something unintelligible, possibly in Russian. His head was bobbing up and down and from side to side as the plane was shaken by the rough weather of upper atmosphere. Soldier and Demoman were playing cards on a cargo crate, their voices uncharacteristically low and soft. The smoke from Soldier's cigar made the air hazy and thick, and Scout felt his lungs slightly protest to it. Engineer looked like he was going to throw up, which made Scout consider leaving his seat next to the Texan and go sit with Heavy. So far Engi had managed to keep his meals down during bumpy plane rides despite his tendency to get motion sick, but this time he looked way too nauseated for Scout to feel comfortable sitting near him. The Bostonian shot a gaze at Medic - who had seated himself next to Scout despite the runner's protests – and elbowed him to the side a bit harder than was necessary. The German yelped in surprise and almost bolted out of his seat.

"Geez, Doc, take it easy", Scout shrieked and held up his hands, ready to defend himself in case Medic would greet him with a bone saw. "Didn't mean ta startle ya."

The physician gave him a deadly glare and pulled his glasses out of the breast pocket of his coat. "I vas finally asleep. Vhat do you vant?" He wiped a smudge from the left lens into his sleeve and shoved the spectacles onto the bridge of his nose. He looked like he was thinking about ripping the Bostonian's guts out with his bare hands.

"Can't ya do sumthin' about the hardhat?" Scout asked and tilted his head to the general direction of Engineer, who was now breaking into cold sweat. "I don't want any second-hand waffles on my shoes."

Medic perked an eyebrow at this and leaned forwards to see how the tiny Texan was doing. "Are you alright, mein friend?"

"I'm alright", Engi muttered, his eyes shut tightly. "Jus' don't make me talk too much."

"See, he's fine", the Doctor grunted and leaned back, crossing his arms again and shutting his eyes. Scout knew this was his cue to shut up, but he couldn't let the German sleep and remain awake himself. He needed something to do now that he didn't feel sleepy anymore, and bugging Medic seemed to be the only option available; Engi would probably puke the second Scout kicked his shin, Soldier and Demo would snap his neck if he went and interrupted their game and Heavy would simply tear him apart limb by limb if the runner dared to bother him. Scout gazed at the Doctor from head to toes, wondering what he could do to make his attending physician turn into his attending opponent in a potential fistfight.

"I can feel you staring at me. Stop it."

The young runner ignored this, of course, and his eyes suddenly fixed on the German's signature forelock. It swayed slightly in the strong draft from the air conditioning, almost pleading Scout to poke it. He was like a kitten, fascinated by the idle movements of the strands of hair, and his eyes widened in exhilaration as he lifted up a bandaged hand, ready to destroy Medic's trademark hairdo. As the forelock swayed towards Scout one more time he smacked it as hard as he could. Medic was immediately wide awake again, flailing his hands as he tried to shoo the runner away. "Vhat ze hell is wrong vith you?!"

"Sorry, thought there was a roach on ya face. Sweet dreams."

The Doctor let out a long, irritated growl as he straightened his glasses and popped up the collar and lapels of his coat. He again crossed his arms and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall behind him. Scout found it hard to believe that Medic would lower his guard a second time so soon, especially now that he knew his seat-neighbor was up to no good. It was possible that the Bostonian would lose a few fingers if he even tried to touch the German again, thus Scout decided it was time for a different approach. "Hey Doc?"

No answer.

"Hey Doc, why d'ya look so tired?"

Still no answer, but Scout could see Medic's jaw muscles tense, like he was gritting his teeth. It wasn't much of a task to piss the German off since the two biggest pet peeves of his seemed to be other people and life in general. However, making him go postal was a lot more difficult, and that essentially was Scout's goal; the thought of Medic going apeshit and chasing him around the plane's interiors while breaking every object he could reach was absolutely hilarious. It was almost sad that due to his heavier build the German would not be able to catch him, but it was specifically the tragicomedy of it that amused the Bostonian immensely. The young loudmouth grinned to himself, trying not to snicker just yet. "Ya sure you're not gettin' too old?"

"You know perfectly vell zhat ze respawn system keeps us from physically-"

"I mean, how old are you anyway? Fifty something?"

Medic's eyes suddenly snapped open, his expression something in between of appalled and insulted. "I have not even turned-"

"Like, seriously, your hair's gettin' gray- "

"It vas already like zhis vhen ve got ze respawn system!"

"I joined dis team the same year the respawn was installed and I swear that dat", Scout poked the greyish hair sprouting on the Doctor's right temple, "wasn't there then."

Medic's hands were flailing in the air with increasing franticness now as he tried to stop the runner from poking his head. Scout could see the anger slowly building up in the German, and he couldn't wait for it to finally boil over. He was quite aware that their argument had caught the attention of Engineer, Soldier and Demoman, but he didn't mind being stared at; he was almost inappropriately proud of the fact that only he could rile Medic up like this. Of course the Doctor got on occasion ticked off by something and raised his voice at people or even destroyed innocent inanimate objects, but Scout was the only one who could switch him into 'murderous rage' mode in a matter of seconds. Medic was almost always in a constant state of sleep deprivation – paperwork didn't do itself and Medic was the only one who could be trusted with the task – and now that they had had to wake up at 2 a.m. to be flown only-God-knows-where for a robot-killing mission, he was absolutely exhausted. And Scout knew that denying someone their sleep was the best way to make them want to kill you.

What Scout either didn't know or didn't remember, however, was that pride always comes before a fall. He was absolutely flabbergasted as he suddenly found both his wrists tied to his own thigh with a red tie that had very swiftly appeared from Medic's pocket when the Bostonian had looked the other way. No matter how hard he struggled against the knot he couldn't free his hands, and Medic's malicious grin grew wider as he leaned back and watched.

"What the hell, Doc? You can't do dis!"

"I believe I just did", Medic chuckled. It was one of those low, throaty laughs he usually only used on the battlefield. "You need to learn zhat zhere are consequences to your actions."

"I was jus' fuckin' with ya", the runner cried out, a clear whine in his voice. "I won't do it again, jus' lemme go."

"Hmm. No, I don't zhink I vill."

"I can still kick ya, you know."

"Zhen perhaps I should restrain your legs too, ja? I packed quite a few extra ties."

"Aw c'mon, Doc, you wouldn't." If threatening didn't work, it was probably best to negotiate. "I promise I'll let ya sleep if ya untie my hands."

"Nix da."

"If ya don't, I'll jus' keep talkin'. Ya know ya can't sleep if I'm talkin'."

The Doctor leaned very close, his eyes narrowing in glee as Scout tried to get away from him. Unfortunately Engineer was still sitting right next to him, so there was nowhere to go. Medic's voice was dangerously smooth as he softly murmured: "A necktie makes an excellent gag, Junge. I suggest zhat you sit nicely for ze rest of ze flight, unless you vant me to demonstrate."

"Go fuck yourself, you Nazi prick."

"Maybe later." Medic didn't seem to be bothered at all that he had been called a Nazi, even though he usually detested it. Hell, he didn't even care that he had been told to go fuck himself. He had the upper hand and he knew it. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to sleep now. Gute Nacht."

A smile still lingered on the German's face as he yet again crossed his arms and closed his eyes, trying to get as comfortable as possible on the cushion-less seat of a cargo plane. Scout stared at him bitterly and tried to free his hands without much success. The knot was fairly simple but the tie was so tightly wrapped around Scout's wrists and thigh that he could barely move his hands, let alone free himself. Demo and Soldier had lost their interest in what was going on and returned to their game, and Engi still looked like he was going to throw up the second he opened his mouth. There was no way any of the three would help Scout open the knot, and it would have required a very bad case of the crazy to wake up Heavy. The Bostonian sighed in defeat and slumped against the back of his seat. It looked like Medic really had outsmarted him, and won.

However, there was something that bothered the youngest member of the team, and he was more apprehensive than curious. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to hear the answer, should he get one in the first place. "Hey Doc? How would you know that a necktie makes a good gag?"

Medic's grin was almost terrifyingly mischievous.