AN:

Gon and Killua properly meet and introduce themselves while Killua reflects a little on his life and the changes Gon may just bring.

Hanzo discusses with his teammates about their departure and reaffirms their squadron's tight-knit relationship with each other; happy and satisfied.

A little overdo on this heh heh. I didn't realize how long this story may wind up being so I hope ya'll are in it for the long run e.e I got lotsa plans in store so I pray I keep up with it lol. Yay for Killua and Gon being together now and I can start playing with the dynamics of their relationship.

Again, feedback and support is always appreciated. I thank you guys a lot for all your wonderful comments and such. It's what keeps me writing the most.

Enjoy.

lez-lee14: THANK YOU AND YES KILLUGON FTW. I love it. Okay. End. But thank you for all your nice comments so far!

Our leap of Faith

10

"Ugh. I'm dying."

"You look like you're dying." Gon said flat out. Killua smacked him as hard as he could for the guys' overwhelming bluntness. He was too straight-forward. Gon deserved every hit Killua gave him.

Whining like a big baby, Gon rubbed at the side of his head where he was hit, pouting down at Killua laying on Gon's cot. The way he was stretched out seemed like he owned the whole thing. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For being stupid." Killua didn't even bother to look up at Gon when he spoke; back to him and snuggling into the pillow in a mannerism similar to a cat. If he leaned in close enough he could actually hear this faint purring sound emitting from the pearly haired teenager in immense satisfaction.

"Stupidity is not a good enough reason to hit someone, though. You should apologize." complained Gon, defending his own honest nature even if he wasn't aware of this obvious fact himself. He was just saying what was on his mind. What was so wrong with that?

"Don't wanna." Killua yawned, nuzzling his faintly glowing cheek into the plush cushion, hugging it tightly in both arms, "Can't make me either."

The mischievous grin that split from ear to ear on Gon's face went unnoticed by Killua thanks to his preoccupied attention with getting cozy on another boy's cot.

"If you even try to do something I will rip out your tongue and stick it up your nose so far it'll lick your brain." Killua said the split instant Gon had started reaching out towards him with those grabby hands of his, begging to misbehave and stir up some trouble, if anything to alleviate the massive lull of boredom that had transpired for the past four hours.

"Awe. You're no fun."

"That's reality for you."

Gon huffed and whirled the other direction until his back was on the pale-skinned boy, cheeks puffed in an obvious pout. What he himself had said was correct. It was true. Killua apparently had more then just the leftover food to throw up so adding on an extra hour leaning over a toilet seat wasn't very eventful or fun in the least. Even if Gon had willingly chosen to remain at the other teenager's side the entire time holding his hair and rubbing his back in a way that had Killua ruffled like a fur ball just disturbed from its nap; it still left little to pass the time once that was over.

Midst Killua's vomiting fit, Kurapika finally found the trio and firmly reprimanded the poor doctor with a dire promise to berate the two boys later when Killua was well enough to get a proper beating. Gon couldn't help but laugh at the way Leorio just toppled over in the presence of the blonde haired Hunter, caving like a wimp but seemingly enjoying it all the while. He could see the bond between them in perfect clarity; resolute and honest. Gon wished for a strong friendship like that someday. He never really had any friends that weren't adults or babies and being secluded on an island left little to offer in the terms of befriending someone who was at least close to his age.

But then there was Killua.

Shimmering, honeyed orbs fell upon those fluffy white tresses that were incredibly soft to the touch; something he had learned spending a little over two hours holding onto it for the sake of this new stranger. Specks of icky, rancid food remained buried in those strands that Gon would occasionally pick through whenever Killua was feeling compliant enough to let him be touched after all that earlier contact. It was blatantly obvious to Gon he had been uncomfortable throughout the entire ordeal but he never once spoke so out loud, too inclined to keep his gaze trained on the toilet seat and his mouth hovering inches into the empty space less he spew anything unwanted on himself. His hair, face, and even his clothes were already a mess from all the food Tonpa had spilled on him. He probably didn't want to add his own vomit on top of it.

But Gon was curious, extremely curious to learn more about this new person named Killua; the person he recognized while asleep. He had heard his name from Leorio and Kurapika himself, bickering in the background about how they should have kept better watch on him, should be moving him to the infirmary to be treated (much to the disapproval of Killua himself), and should be reporting the incident between Tonpa and him to Hanzo. But all that could agree on was to let the matter be dropped for the time being in loo of letting Killua recover on his own and decide. Apparently Killua was as hard-headed as Gon. Stubborn, prideful, and evasive.

He sounded a lot like the way Mito-san described Ging to Gon that one time. Perhaps they were similar?

This Killua was nothing on how he expected him to be; a head of silver hair against an even lighter skin tone made him appear ethereal, mystical almost. His body was lithe from toe to head, long in comparison to Gon's more bulkier, broader frame. He was taller but only by maybe an inch at best. They were polar opposites in a way; a stark contrast of black versus white really. Gon's onyx black hair against Killua's ivory white. Dark amber eyes battling icy cerulean ones. Gon's muscles were more pronounced, larger while Killua's were lean and willowy but there was no doubt Killua had hidden strength. It radiated off him in overpowering waves; his Nen made Hanzo, Kurapika, and Leorio's auras look meager and weak in comparison, leaving Gon breathless in its wake.

It was cool, intriguing that Gon finally had found someone around his age he could possibly relate to. Gon really, really had to know more.

And now that Killua finally cleared his system and left Gon his first opening to talk to him, he had spent the past hour and a half huddled on the bed in a fit of restless sleep instead. He was constantly rolling over on his sides trying to find the most comfortable spot. But the cots were hard, awkward to lay on, and Gon felt a bit of pity the other was having an inner war with himself on how best to try to get some rest. Gon tried to offer Killua some crackers or water, too, whenever he managed to get the boy's attention; but was rejected every time. And if Killua rejected that, well the times he rejected the damp warm cloth or the stomach medicine was multiplied by three times the rejection. It was getting so irritating hearing Killua flat out refuse anything Gon had offered to give him to help him feel better quicker that Gon didn't even hesitate when the words that slipped from his mouth next left the sapphire-eyed stranger gaping at him in total shock.

"Ne, Killua, are you a masochist or somebody that likes to suffer because you won't let me do anything to help you feel better no matter how many times I try to give you stuff and it's driving me crazy!"

"..."

"..."

"What." Gon said, their gazes met and Killua automatically shied away from it, muttering indistinguishable words under his breath. Even Gon's super sensitive hearing couldn't pick it up. "Are you or are you not? I mean, with the way you're acting, it's pretty obvious you-"

"Stupid, I'm not a masochist! How do you even know what a masochist IS?!" Killua snapped, Gon's eyes widening in surprise at the scarlet red blush peppering those paler-than-normal cheeks of his when he rounded back to face him. The daggers he was glaring didn't feel so threatening when the guy's embarrassing colored flush screwed him over.

"Then why won't you let me take care of you?" pressed Gon anyway, admiring the reaction he got for some reason. It was so in character and he oddly liked it; seeing this blushy Killua looking all frazzled and hung up after a derogatory comment. Mito-san would have scolded him for that. Only, for some reason it felt like it was a rare blessing to be having someone who was apparently labeled as ' stubborn, prideful, and evasive' by his peers looking vulnerable, albeit temporary. He wouldn't dare touch on the other nicknames Killua had received or he might not be able to control himself thereafter.

"Because," the navy-eyed boy sighed, hugging the pillow against his chin and cheek while he refused to meet Gon's stern gaze, "I don't need anybody to take care of me. I can take care of myself. All I did was throw up, anyway. It's no big deal."

"Threw up for over two hours to the point Killua was turning so white that he might have passed out if I hadn't held him up the entire time. You almost fell over lots of times, too, but I'm the one who caught you." Gon pointed out much to the aggregated twitch of Killua's brow. He'd lost count after the tenth time Gon not-so-subtly had to touch his waist to keep him steady. He did not need a mental reminder.

"Who cares about how long I did when it's already done and over with?"

"I do!"

"Well you're an idiot!" A flick to Gon's brow sent the tanned male reeling back in pain with a squeal, "Stop worrying about complete strangers and think about yourself!"

"Owwww! You're mean Killua!" Gon's whining was loud, insistent, borderline maniacal with the way he was rocking side to side in his seat and clutching his forehead dramatically like he incurred a bullet wound there and would bleed to death any moment.

Killua rolled his eyes, undisturbed by the Freecs boy's antics and turned his back on him, rolling over and away to do so. "Well, welcome to reality Gon. There's much more meaner people out there so if you think I'm bad, just wait until you meet them."

"But you're not mean, Killua. You're really nice."

Backpedaling from his earlier comment, Killua gawked at Gon's ever-so-serious expression. "What-? You just said I was mean a second ago. Don't go changing your mind so quickly, moron!"

The flustered jerky movements of the teenager in front of him made Gon smile his trademark goofy grin, head held lopsided as he stared at the back of pearly locks. "But it's true. Killua seems really nice even if he doesn't want to admit to it. Leorio, Kurapika, and Hanzo are nice, too. I'm glad I met all of you and I hope I'll get to know more about you guys soon, also. Especially Killua."

"I-idiot." Killua tripped on his own breath, stuttering out while he clawed at the sheets in front of him, "Don't be so honest to someone you hardly even know. It will come back to bite you in the ass someday."

The raven haired one shrugged, "I think I've been bitten in the ass enough to make my own decisions for a change, don't you think?"

"Like I'd know or want to know how many times your ass has been bitten."

"Well, I would say seven times if we're counting that one time when I-"

"WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION!" Killua's voice rose over Gon's, pitch unintentionally higher then natural as he flailed and rolled right off the bed side, landing with a groan on the floor below.

Gon climbed onto the mattress and stared down at the defeated lump of unnatural white mumbling quietly and chuckled. "I'm not sure why, but Killua's reactions are pretty funny and kind of cute."

Out of nowhere, a kick flew his way, landing an uppercut to the edge of Gon's jaw and sent him flying backwards with a shocked yelp. He ended up on the opposite side of the bed, sprawled on the floor and blinking stars out of his vision with a pained moan. He sat up quicker then necessary when the dull ache subsided from his rattling bones and clambered right back onto the mattress, laying flat on his stomach to return his focus back down on Killua who still had yet to move. The only thing he had done was move the leg he used to kick him, now laying with his knees propped up on the bedside and eyes closed.

"Hey! No fair. That really hurt."

"How-" Killua trailed off; ignoring the protesting statement, as he picked his words deliberately with a lick of his lips, "How are you just-... Who are you?"

The question hung in the air for a long moment, Gon unsure what Killua was referring to. When he couldn't quite pin what exactly he was trying to gain from his question, he answered in the easiest way Gon knew best before the steam started to spew out his ears from a possible brain fry. Besides, how else were you supposed to answer it? Gon was Gon. That was all there was to it. "Who am I?" He laughed, finding amusement in the smallest things, "I'm Gon Freecs of course! Who else would I be? Last I checked I was still Gon Freecs anyway."

The honey eyes were blinking rapidly when Killua opened his own bluer pair to return the gesture, gaze softening on his own accord. Gon Freecs. It was a name he didn't think; no, he had a gut feeling he wouldn't forget in a very, very long time. "Gon, eh?" He snorted, shaking his head a little, "Gon Freecs is definitely an idiot then."

"That's okay. I don't mind being an idiot." was his immediate reply, a smile added onto it; blazing like the sun radiating on the back of that spiky head of hair, "But this idiot would like to know who you are. If you don't mind saying."

"Me?" The assassin breathed in deeply at the inquiry. The first time someone actively asked and showed interest in knowing who he really was. His name. "Who am I? I thought you already knew who I was?"

"I want to hear you tell me, not somebody else."

"That doesn't make any sense. It's just like repeating yourself and nobody wants to hear that."

"Please?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously."

"You really want to know...?"

Gon nodded and Killua fought the urge to smile along with that sunshiny grin, too addictive not to become helpless in the life; the light, that he inexplicably felt in this strange teenager's presence.

It was warm and it thawed him to his very core; an unearthly, powerful aura washing over him like a tsunami. Relentless and reckless.

As he thought about it, Killua's world had always been cold. Full of death and decay, screams of disapproval and disgusted whispers that mocked him; reminded him of his shame. His family ties had always been that distant reminder that he lived, breathed, the dark underground life. There was no happy medium there. There were no friendly hugs and late night gatherings where you drank and smoked your nights into carefree bliss before you climbed under the sheets for a fun romp with a total stranger just because you wanted to feel good for once. The smells of fresh sun rays and clean, human life didn't exist down below. Instead, you were surrounded by booze, drugs, and sex; the smell reeking off grisly bodies who hadn't seen a shower in days, too busy selling the meat off their bones for the wolves to dig into just to have a scrap of substance to live from for the day. Money came cheap because the people themselves sold their souls for cheaper.

Murder and rape, violence and harassment; the list went on. Killua had seen it all.

While he was on the subject of 'All the shit I had ripped from my childhood', Killua never did have the chance to attend a real school. He never got the chance to piss off your teachers and scramble to finish your homework the last five minutes before class time. He never got to even make a single friend remotely close to his age; so his social life was next to nigh unless it involved your victim targets and close associates or the contractors for your kill. The only contacts on his cell phone were his family members and all the numbers he was too lazy to delete from those who hired him.

He never got to earn his drivers license legally (the silly faces on all his counterfeits were still funny though) or have your parents make sure you didn't slam on the breaks too hard and fly into the windshield after the fifth time at trying because you forgot your seat belt again. No, his hack-job of a brother procured him a totally legit, totally illegal, believable copy of a drivers license. And Killua still ran into a sign post now and again.

When he was sore and aching from a hard days work (remember it's only 'training')and he could barely even pull himself into bed, nobody would be there to help tuck him in. As a child he put all the band-aids on himself, wrapped his injuries and dressed his wounds, and made up night time stories to help him sleep and forget the monsters and all the people out to kill him that may be lurking under his bed. Sometimes he still had to hum himself a tune just to keep his eyes firmly shut in the middle of the night.

Hell, he didn't even get the sex talk from anyone! By the time sex was even mentioned he had long since discovered it thanks to dear fat brother Miluki and his endless supply of anime porn and hentai shit. And nobody even cared that he knew. Nobody bothered to get mad like most parents did and ground him for months in restriction. Actually, when they found out; the things he could do now knowing it were impossibly difficult. And they still made him do them anyway.

If he had buddies; like most ordinary everyday people had, to hang out at night with playing cards and swapping dramatic rumors of who was dating who or which person fucked who because that's pretty much all your life consisted of; well he would have been plenty satisfied. The idea of trash talking others to feel better about yourself sounded better then pondering all the multiple ways you could maim and murder someone, especially an easy target you couldn't bother to even half-ass a kill from.

He didn't even get to talk about or hit on any cute girls because you just had to date her, at least once. Because, you know, guys have to score. It's a one up on their manly egos. Killua wondered how well it would pass to talk about how many higher-ups and rich, greasy snobs he's killed and if it'd earn him any brownie points on the whole 'manly ego' scale.

It was probably worth a point at best.

But none of that had ever existed in Killua Zoldyck's cold, bottomless pit and excuse for a so-called 'life'. It was filled with nothing but the blood and dusty bones of the people he's killed and the painted red fingernails crusting, dried and moldy from the guts he's spilled. The muscles he's torn. The limbs and organs he's broken. His world had been nothing but training, lectures, torture; preparing himself mentally and physically to slaughter thousands of lives with just his pinky no less. He had been reprimanded every step of the way, crawling through the darkness on his hands and knees with whips and chains and angry words beating him every which way with no point of relief, poison puddling behind his clenched lips and forced down his throat even if he choked to breathe the entire time. Choked for air past the surging burns and electrical stings; his drug of choice in a realm of pain, ghosting on his footsteps.

No friends, no comrades, nobody whatsoever remotely close to him he could call his own existed in Killua's world. Nothing to share his name with, share his woes and concerns. Nobody he could trust with his deepest fears and his greatest secrets.

Nobody had yet to be there to hold his hand or his heart when the weight alone was too much for him to bear and everything precious was slipping out of his fingers; a burden.

"I-" he said, throat dry and chest heavy, feeling parched, and rubbed the back of his cheek with his wrist. "I am.."

Killua glanced up, blue eyes widening at the warm light that seemed to illuminate around Gon's form like a halo, bathing him in an earthly warm glow. His body looked like it was on fire, a painted image of a growing young man and the picture of innocence and natural human curiosity. Gon was one of those everyday people, living in the now, the present; without the haunting, deceitful whispers tugging on him in the background. He was shining; like an angel, and Killua quickly averted his eyes and squinted, Gon Freecs too bright for him to stare at too long.

He's light.

And I'm..

The Zoldyck himself noticed the shadows dancing on his lap, the darkness that extruded from his body. Compared to Gon he was but a mere plot of blackness on a pure white frame. Just a shadowy, infectious speck that if provoked, spread across a surface until it was all-consumed; inflamed. A tanned hand dropped into view and Killua swallowed suddenly, watching the fingers offered to him for a handshake. He took one last look up, noticed Gon's radiant smile, and he couldn't help but feel the twitch of his own lips go up in accordance. It really was too hard to resist.

I'm dark.

A sickly-pale hand slid into molten bronze, a smile ever present on the dank, lonely soul basking in the light that was a pure soul; content to remain in the darkness a little longer if it meant witnessing such a sight. Just once, in his small, twisted up lifetime in Hell.

"I'm Killua Zoldyck."

"Is everything packed and ready to go for tomorrow?"

Hanzo was leaning against the nearby building wall that lead into the mess hall, brow raised in earnest at the small handful of people gathered around him. Their casual meeting places were always random; never predetermined. Hanzo liked to be unpredictable, much to the nerve of everyone else.

"It's in the process of being finished, sir." Pokkle responded, clip board at hand. Kurapika was right next to him alongside a few other stray hunters, faces etched with attentive focus.

"We'll finish packing away the last of the supplies and extra beds, weapons, and food supplies by the end of closing hour tonight." a female voice spoke up next; Ponzu, who wore a matching beanie like Pokkle, her turquoise eyes and similar hair a mighty contradiction against her bright yellow hat. "Everything else has already been placed in its proper spots, ready to be stored, sir."

Hanzo nodded and Kurapika cleared his throat, gray eyes scanning his own paperwork as well. "The boats are scheduled to arrive by sunrise tomorrow and by the time we're finished stowing away the last of our things we should be able to head in-route to the Padokia Providence before dark hits, if all goes according to plans." His smirk twitched, giggling a little under his breath. "Sir." He added, teasingly, spotting the agitated twitch of their leader's eyebrows in response.

"How many times do I have to repeat myself in telling you guys not to call me 'Sir' before you finally stop calling me that."

"Approximately 672 times by my calculations, sir." Pokkle read from his notes, in all seriousness. Apparently he was oblivious to the snickers in the background from the other soldiers trying their damned hardest not to laugh because the stern gaze on that pointed man's face he was giving Hanzo was priceless.

There was a pause, then.

"Now it would be 673." laughed Kurapika first, busting out into a fit of giggles that the remaining Hunters all followed suit, except Pokkle. He appeared completely baffled at the sudden comical atmosphere that had settled in, shooting glances from Ponzu (who grinned even more like she knew he was missing the hidden joke) to Kurapika and finally Hanzo who's bald head was actually starting to smoke furiously.

"That's not funny Kurapika!" he barked, uselessly, everyone laughing harder in retaliation. "Stop calling me SIR! You know how it drives me crazy!"

"We can't help it, Hanzo. Not when it annoys you like this." Ponzu's girlish voice squeaked, Pokkle tugging on her collar sleeve questionably the entire time.

"Did I miss the joke or something?"

"Pokkle. If you'd lighten up for a change maybe you wouldn't miss so much."

"But- oh come on! It's not my fault! Ponzu!"

"Heehee!"

"Haha." Kurapika slowly began to calm with the subsiding guffaws around him, "Hanzo. You know we're only joking with you. You're our commander, so of course we are supposed to at least try to treat you like one now and again. The Hunter Association would flip if they saw us all acting so friendly with you because you insist we treat you as one."

"Yeah. I know." grumbled their ninja leader, sagging in defeat. Once the rest of the Hunters gathered around quieted down, he rose to his full height once more and placed on his best face and smiled. "Okay! Fine. Call me whatever you want, just as long as you make sure you get everything prepared for tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Even Hanzo couldn't control the twitch of his brow or the bemused chuckles of his peers. Even in the face of war, their leader ceased to carry the sun on his shoulders; his personality bright like luminescence. Just another addictive light to gravitate towards in a realm that was black and ugly from war.

"Hanzo." interrupted a voice, breaking the lighthearted ambiance. It was a gruff, larger man; similar to Tonpa only taller, with a small pony-tail fastened high on his rich blonde head, sides shaven clean off. He had a pronounced forehead, brow creased with beady, slanted eyes. His wrestler's body was unmatched in terms of physical strength; ranked in the top five on their team, even with his massive girth and weight. "Are the rumors true that we'll be traveling alongside the other Silver Squadron? You were very vague at the last meeting on whether or not we'd actually be sharing quarters with them on our travel to Padokia."

Hanzo shared knowing glances with Kurapika; eyes briefly locking, before he nodded with a resolute sigh. He had tried to bypass the subject until the last given moment in time, only having shared the information with a few chosen individuals. But by the looks of it, the inevitable was bound to happen. When at war, sacrifices always had to be made; even if it meant traveling with those spoiled maniacal psychopaths of Silver Squadron 1 because the Association said it'd be 'Tactical and strategic when traveling through Chimera Ant territory so get friendly with your fellow hunters because you'll be fighting alongside them for the next coming weeks.'

Figures. Netero that cheeky ass.

"Yes, Todo, we are. I know I've been avoiding it at all costs already, but unfortunately we don't get a choice in the matter this time around. We'll be splitting into groups and traveling in mixed pairs with them from the boat ride all the way to the blimps." A group simultaneous moan of dismay pierced the air, Hanzo trying hard to grimace at the mere idea of getting cozy with the dreaded opposing crew in such a state, but the circumstances had been decided and they didn't have a choice. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I hate the idea too, but we'll just have to stick with it for only a little while."

"Great. Another run in with the best pedophile clown out there. And here I thought the Hunter exams would be the last time we ever saw him." Pokkle whined, forehead thudding on his clip board.

"Didn't they promote him, too?" came Ponzu, appearing more disturbed then normal, troubled even. "I thought Captain Satotz and the others agree to kick him out."

"Yes, they promoted him, and no, they didn't revoke him from the squad, sadly. He's a superb fighter and Nen-user. And since he can go out on the battlefield and slaughter hundreds of Ants on his own, well, they figured it'd be best just to deal with his behavior for the sake of the war."

"Sounds like the same scenario we're in with the Zoldyck kid." grumbled another random hunter in the back of the group, a few others sharing their disgust with low, uncouth whispers.

"Hey," Kurapika hissed, shooting the background commentators a haughty glare, the five people shocked ram-rod in place at the abrupt defensive change in demeanor the Kurta took, "Don't compare Killua to that perverted freak. At least he has the guts to defend your sorry rear ends when the Chimera Ants are overpowering you on the battlefield, all the while you're all crying for your mommies to save you. And it's all because you're too lazy to train your Nen and actually fight your own battle for a change instead of letting a mere teenager do the job for you. That clown would have been more then happy to watch you people be torn apart by the Ants and wait until they're done slowly devouring every last scrap of meat off your bones, before he'd even consider on killing them."

Hanzo was whistling in the foreground, both eyebrows perked high on his brow, when Pokkle snorted against the back of his hand; Ponzu giggling beside him. "Burn."

"He has a point though." Their bald leader butt in, hand raised for attention, "We should appreciate every member of our squad, no matter who they are, what their background history is, or any other things that would otherwise deter us from associating ourselves with them. I thought that was one of the first things I've been trying to ingrain into you all since we were first formed? We must-"

"-Must always respect and accept our fellow Hunters and squad members like we would one of our family. We are all fighting this war together and someday that one person you might dislike may be saving your pitiful ass, so make sure to always remain appreciative of each other and show no negativity. We're all equals here in Silver Squadron 2, no exceptions." recited the man who had rudely commented about Killua, his head bowed in defeat alongside the others who had shared his words aloud. "Yeah, we remember. We're sorry, sir."

Hanzo was nodding along the whole time until he paused, looking suspicious, "Yep, yep- Wait. Did it actually go exactly like that or...?"

"No." a woman hunter giggled on the side, "But it's close enough to what you said."

"Okay. Then all of what you said, right back in your face!"

The howl of merriment from his fellow recruits gave Hanzo the biggest grin he could muster, chuckling along with the relaxation of the stiff air, soothing; a comfortable feel in their heavy hearts.

"And that will be all for today, recruits! You're dismissed!"

"Aye, aye, SIR!"

"STOP CALLING ME SIR!"

The laughs that echoed around the campsite was like a delicious addition of spice on an already delicious, appetizing atmosphere.

Perfect.