metal gear solid. otacon & snake. set just before MGS2; mild hinted-at spoilers. PG. characters belong to hideo kojima/KONAMI.

written for the mgsslash secret santa at LJ for beatlegirl4004. merry christmas:D

a slight crossover with the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy, which belongs to the late, great douglas adams.

spot the pop culture references!

-

the most massively useful thing

-

-

There were days, Solid Snake thought, that Otacon took his sci-fi obsessions a bit too far.

It wasn't often that the two of them were able to simply shop like normal, average citizens. Usually, any outings were limited to buying things they couldn't order online with a fake bank account, or even less frequently, to eating at some restaurant or another. Living in New York City was a mixed blessing: there were so many people that it wasn't difficult to blend in, but it increased the likelihood of someone who was actually seeking them out being present.

As such, it surprised Snake when Otacon decided Monday morning was perfect for a trip to a bookstore.

"Otacon," he grumbled, trudging behind him through streetwater-splashing traffic, "is this really necessary?"

Hal shot him a look over his shoulder, the frame of his glasses poking into the hood of his sweatshirt. "I think once you become familiar with the smell of new books, you'll understand why this absolutely is."

"...right." Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, Snake silently followed him into one of Manhattan's many Borders. The scents of coffee and clean paper surrounded them, and the store was nicely warm, a pleasant break from the dreary dankness outside. Soft light filtered down from overhead, and Otacon looked as if he'd stepped into heaven.

Not that they really believed in heaven anymore.

A table displaying various bestsellers quickly caught Snake's eye. Turning to pick up a large photo collection and leaf through its pages, it took him a minute to realize that Otacon had wondered off somewhere. More likely than not he was already perusing the manga section, or digging through the newest arrivals in science fiction. Snake shrugged to himself, and spent a good while immersed in browsing a shelf of gift sets, then the calendar rack, then the discounted items...

-

Someone tapped on his shoulder, and it was all he could do to not snap the offender's neck. Instead, he jolted slightly, and turned to see Otacon shoving a black, hardcover, gold-leaf-edged book in his face.

"Look! Look what they have!" The excitement in his voice was unmistakable.

Snake's eyes moved slowly across the words in the title, and settled on one of the four aliens sticking their tongues out at him.

"What is this?"

Otacon beamed. "It's The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy!"

Snake blinked. "Guide to... the galaxy?" He frowned. "Why would you need--"

Hal stroked the cover lovingly, smiling at the book. "Oh, I haven't read these since I was a teenager... The fifth book was released when I was seventeen. I remember the day I bought it. Don't know what happened to that copy, though."

"What's it about?" Snake tilted his head to read the spine. "What kind of name is 'Zaphod'?"

Otacon ignored the second question. "It's about a book. A wholly remarkable book, actually." He opened it and flipped through it, skimming a few pages before apparently finding the paragraph he wanted. "...'In fact, it was probably the most remarkable book ever to come out of the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor.'" He glanced up to find Dave looking thoroughly unimpressed. "Not your cup of tea, huh?"

"Sorry, but not really."

Otacon gave him another look. "Douglas Adams was a very influential man! He wrote for Dr. Who, you know."

"Who?"

"Yes."

"...what?"

Oblivious to Snake's confusion, Otacon closed the book and held it to his chest. "Well, anyway. I'm gonna buy this and then get some coffee. You wait for me over at..." He squinted, then pointed in a fairly vague direction. "Over at one of those tables, okay?"

"Alright."

-

Otacon must have either been held up while waiting in line to check out, or started a conversation with some employee, because Snake waited for a good ten minutes before his partner decided to join him. Snake stirred a cup of what he had hoped was simply coffee-flavored-coffee but had turned out to be Spiced Pumpkin Somethingorother. It was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike coffee. This only added to the disappointment of finding out that the signs offering a free slice of cake with the purchase of any drink turned out to be false advertising.

"What took you so long?" Dave asked, watching as Otacon pulled back a chair and sat down. Hal sighed and pushed his glasses further up on his nose.

"Some lady paid with a credit card and wanted change back. They tried to explain to her why that doesn't work multiple times, but she was just too damn stubborn. But anyway," he sniffed at the air, reached for Snake's cup of coffee, and took a sip. "Oh wow, is this the Spiced Pumpkin?"

Dave didn't particularly mind that he'd stolen it. He was honestly impressed that anyone could drink that stuff and survive. "Yeah, I think so. I didn't really catch the name, mostly because I didn't ask for it." He leaned his chin into his palm and watched Otacon thoughtfully drinking coffee as he slowly turned the book's pages.

"I'd forgotten this part." Hal smiled at the book, then looked up at Snake. "Did you know that a towel is an amazingly useful tool to have at your disposal?"

Snake raised an eyebrow. "More useful than a chaff grenade?"

"Well... Maybe not, but that's besides the point." Snake rather thought that was the point, but said nothing. "At any rate, there are a countless number of ways you can use a towel. For example," he stared up at the ceiling in thought for a moment, then continued. "You can soak a corner of it in a glucose solution and suck it out if you need some quick energy, or, um. You could even soak it in medication!"

Snake looked mildly interested, but was at least paying attention. Otacon carried on.

"Depending on what color towel you have, you could use it as a type of camouflage!"

Now this caught Dave's attention. He snorted in disbelief. "It can't possibly be as good as a cardboard box."

Otacon met his eyes and saw the challenge in the look Snake was giving him. "Wanna bet?"

Snake sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah. I want to bet. I bet you..." He scanned the room, seeking out any ideas the surrounding area might provide him. "I bet you a cardboard box is a better stealth tool. If you lose, you have to buy one of those stupid sex-coupon booklets and give it to, uh." He lowered his voice just slightly out of habit. "To Campbell. ...Soup."

Hal almost laughed at the way Dave had tried to cover up Roy's last name. It wasn't the most discreet move, but it would work. "Okay, then. I bet you a towel is better, and if you lose, you have to marathon an anime with me. One that has at least fifty episodes."

Snake paled.

"And no complaining during it! No sneaking off to use the bathroom for five hours, either. I saw what you did there." Hal extended a hand, prompting Dave to shake on it. "Agreed?"

"Agreed." He took his hand and shook. If a table hadn't been separating them, they might have done their brand new Philanthropy-approved Double Secret Handshake. At least, that's what Otacon called it.

-

Soon enough, they were headed for the subway. They had to walk for a bit to get to a station that would take them to the Lincoln Square Bed, Bath, and Beyond on Broadway, but overall, the train would save them a lot of effort. Otacon mentally thanked the Metropolitan Transit Authority for simply existing and doing its job. Snake wasn't entirely sure why going to this specific store of all places was also necessary, but apparently it was.

"You could also use a towel to cover your head from the rain," Otacon pointed out as Snake sat beside him on the seat. He liked facing the direction opposite the one the train was travelling in; when the vehicle accelerated, it was more fun that way.

"You could do that with a box, too."

"You can't wrap a box around your shoulders, though."

"Yeah? A box won't get soaked as quickly."

Luckily, a MTA employee asked to see their tickets before anything could escalate into petty bickering. They were, of course, way above petty bickering. They'd never sink to that level.

A minute or two later, the train stopped, and they boarded a second one that would take them to their destination. This, too, was a fairly short ride, though there was some nutcase babbling about government conspiracies who didn't seem to know when to shut up. Snake and Otacon looked at each other nervously for a second, then remembered that they were in New York, and nobody would so much as bat an eye.

Otacon hadn't had time to get in much reading, though he'd certainly tried. He was still mastering the ability to focus while surrounded by people and noise and tunnel walls. He put the Guide back in the plastic bag they'd given him and made his way back to the city street, with Snake not far behind.

-

Bed, Bath, and Beyonds were huge stores. Snake didn't think he'd ever seen so many houseware-related objects in his entire life. Thankfully, Otacon seemed to know where he was going, and made a beeline for the bathroom section. A wall of multicolored towels towered above them, and after a long moment of silent contemplation, Hal picked a green one and studied it carefully.

"It looks like that shirt you wear all the time," Snake noted aloud. Sometimes it didn't hurt to take the role of Captain Obvious.

Otacon nodded, pleased with this observation. "It does." He paused and looked around. "Do you think we should check out the--"

"No."

Dave grabbed his arm and led him towards the checkout lanes.

Hal supposed it had kept him from admitting he wanted to see if they had any of the R2-D2 laundry baskets he'd seen online.

-

They took the subway home, too, though they intentionally changed lines multiple times to keep anyone unsavory from following them back to their apartment.

After a quick dinner of Rice-a-Roni and potato chips, they set up for their (admittedly somewhat immature) glorified version of hide and seek. Snake let Otacon go first. He wouldn't want to overwhelm the man with his immense sneaking talent just yet. They'd agreed to time their searching, and whoever found the other quickest would be declared winner.

Otacon was of the opinion that he had a distinct advantage; he and Emma had played this game plenty when they were younger. Considering that Snake and his sibling had been separated practically at birth, he seriously doubted the other man had done anything similar.

He vaguely wondered what had happened to E.E.

Shrugging it off, Hal curled tighter into himself, hidden beneath a pile of unfolded towels in their closet. For once, he was immensely grateful that they hadn't bothered to properly put this stuff away -- otherwise, the sudden mess would've been noticeable instead of providing excellent cover. He pressed a button on his watch, and it lit up the darkness with a soft, blue-green glow. It'd been five minutes already, and Snake hadn't checked the closet yet. Otacon snickered to himself.

A box was better, indeed.

-

Snake hadn't checked the closet yet.

It was approaching seven minutes, and somehow he hadn't managed to turn up Otacon in the relatively small space of their apartment. Granted, he'd been absentmindedly snacking on a box of cheez-its for the first four minutes, but it hadn't hampered his searching ability that much. Frowning, he marched determinedly into their room and threw open the closet doors, but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. It suddenly occurred to him that he could've been using his thermal goggles the entire time. Hal played dirty, too, and Dave wasn't above doing the same thing. It was only fair, after all.

He pulled them down from the closet shelf and turned around. Donning the goggles, he jogged back into the main room of the apartment and quickly scanned the kitchen, their pitifully tiny laundry "room," the bathroom, the second bedroom that they'd turned into an office...

Nothing.

"Damn," Snake muttered, walking back to the bedroom, frustrated. Had he just left the apartment altogether? He could've sworn that was against the rules. ...not that they'd really established any, but. Still.

As he was about to take off the goggles, he caught a flash of red to his left. Mentally kicking himself again and again for being right there multiple times and not noticing the fairly obvious hiding spot, Snake reached down into the pile of towels and yanked.

And there was Otacon.

"Gotcha."

Hal smirked. "Took you long enough. Only..." He checked his watch. "Eleven minutes, Snake. That's--"

"You smell like wet socks."

"Fair enough." Otacon sat up, then stood up. "Think you can beat that?"

Though it wasn't in his nature to give up, Snake thought this would be a good time to concede. "...yeah, not so much." He scratched at the back of his head and sighed. "There are only two cardboard boxes in this apartment, so it's not the ideal hiding spot." He gave Hal what he hoped was a look worthy of sympathy. "Does it really have to be a fifty episode series?"

Otacon smiled. "Nah. Since you admitted I was the true winner here, I'll spare you. Let's see..." He walked back into the living room and ran a finger across the spines of the DVD cases. "Oh, I know what we can watch."

A short while later, they were curled on the couch and finishing up the opened box of cheez-its. Otacon scooted closer to Snake, taking off his glasses before pressing his cheek against his partner's chest. Harrison Ford and Rutger Hauer were battling atop a building. For some reason the scene seemed strangely familiar to Snake, although he couldn't place why. He glanced to his right.

"...are you using it as a blanket now?"

Otacon nodded against Snake's shirt. "Just one of its many uses. I wouldn't want to go anywhere without my wonderful towel."

Dave rolled his eyes, smiled fondly at him, and put an arm around Hal's shoulder.

-

-

Somewhere in the upper atmosphere, a green spaceship flew by, largely unnoticed, over Manhattan. The electronic thumb in the bag of a patron at Stavro Mueller Beta blipped quietly away.