"What a day! I can't believe you guys fell for that bluff."

"I reckon next time I'll have to win my money back."

"Heavy need money for Sandviches." I looked up at Heavy with a puzzled expression.

"You have plenty of Sandviches in the fridge back at base."

"Schro will be gone tomorrow. Heavy need Sandviches to make Heavy strong!" I laughed as we ambled down the hallway.

"Herr Schrodinger?"

"Yeah, Medic?"

"I vas vondering if I could talk vith you before you left."

"Sure, when the others are making supper, I'll come visit you down in the infirmary." He nodded and I smiled at him, laughing my mischievous laugh. He turned away to hide a huge blush that spread across his entire face.

"Private Schrodinger! I want to express my gratitude for serving with you in this war!"

"I'll be back in a couple of days, Solly. Besides, I still got time before I leave."

"Even if that is true, I want you to know that you are a valued member of this unit!"

"Okay… I'm not sure where to go with that." I laughed awkwardly as we walked down the dimly lit halls.

"'e means to say zhat you better come back to us in one piece. You can do zhat, can't you, mon ami?"

"Of course I can, it's not like I'm going off to war or anything." They all groaned at my terrible joke, but they smiled after a bit.

In the van, I sat between Scout and Spy. Once again, Spy took Sniper's seat.

"Hey, Schro. You wanna play some baseball with me when you get back? I got a wicked batter's arm."

"Sure. By the way, I heard you like to draw. Could I see some of your sketches?"

"Uh… Maybe next time…" He turned his head, embarrassed. They must be inappropriate drawings. How unexpected.

"Alright, Scout. You think you could draw a castle in the clouds for me? I've always dreamed of flying high above the world, wind blowing through my hair…" I looked at him with a dreamy expression on my face. He laughed and nodded, blushing a little.

"Can I talk to you, Schrodinger?" Spy leaned in and whispered in my ear.

"You're sitting next to me, nothing's stopping you." He narrowed his eyes in a serious manner.

"Zhe RED team ez extraordinarily brutal. Watch your back when you're with zhem. I wouldn't be surprised if zhey tried to take advantage of you. Also, be aware zhat zhey have psychopaths on zheir team. Zheir Sniper is very different from our own. He finds pleasure in mutilation. Zheir Medic is known for experimenting with his team mates' bodies. I am not saying zhis to scare you, I am saying zhis because-"

"Aye! When we get back, we're gonna party! Wooh!" Demoman threw his arms up in the air in a celebratory fashion. I laughed at his carefree nature.

"Vhat are you planning on doing after the 'party,' herr Demoman? It looks like you've sustained an injury on the field."

"Don worry about it, Doc! Tonight, we dine in Hell!"

"Isn't that going a bit overboard?" We all laughed boisterously, my conversation with Spy all but forgotten.

"Oi, Schro. I heard you talking with tha Medic. Shame ya aren't gonna see us makin' dinner. I guarantee someone's going to spend the whole night cleaning the kitchen."

"You sure it's not gonna be you?"

"Nah, my bets are on Soldier or Demo. Maybe Scout."

"Hey! I regret nothing, chucklenuts." I looked over at Pyro. They were taking in the cool desert air with the window open. The gas mask was still on, but I assume they could feel the air ventilating through their suit. I don't know, it's possible. He was sitting next to Engie, they seemed to understand each other pretty well.


So, to give the reader a good idea of who's sitting next to who; Heavy and Medic are in the front seat, Heavy's driving and Medic is in the passenger seat. They're talking about their chess game. They plan on playing it after dinner, if there aren't any party plans. Soldier, Engie and Pyro are sitting in the row in front of me. In that order. And as stated earlier, I'm sitting between Spy and Scout. Demoman and Sniper are sitting in the seats behind us. Whenever they want to say something, they lean over the seats, the smell of alcohol dripping from Demo's breath. Spy scrunches up his nose whenever he talks. I think he dislikes the brand of alcohol Demo drinks. Either that or he just finds him disagreeable. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, so I'm gonna say Spy prefers his own alcohol.


"Schro, you excited to see your new fort, darlin'?"

"Yeah, the Administrator didn't show me any of the blueprints, so I'm kinda in the dark here when it comes to the architecture. You think it's gonna have a pool?"

"Heh, your base might, but I doubt your fort will."

"That's a shame. By the way, what's with the smell at the fort?"

"That's the sewage system. I guess you ain't been down there yet."

"Nope. I'll have to check it out when I'm on the neutral team. Or tomorrow…" I smiled devilishly with a gleam in my eyes. Engie laughed as he turned back to his conversation with Pyro. I noticed he was blushing as well. I seem to have that effect on all of them. Do I imite a cold air, that their cheeks turn red…?

"We're 'ere! I got tha decoratin'!" Demo is way past drunk. I laugh to myself as I step out of the van.

"Herr Schrodinger, vould you accompany me to the infirmary?" Medic held out his arm like a gentleman.

"Gladly, as long as we get to skip there." He started to object, but I had already taken him up on his offer, skipping to the infirmary with an unwilling hostage. I giggled happily on the way there, the other mercenaries hooped and hollered at Medic skipping with me. His white lab coat billowed behind him gracefully, kicking up dust in his wake. If the moon were full that night, the dust would have glittered with joy at our overflowing gayety.

In the hallways, it was much more quiet. I heard the distant conversing of our teammates as they prepared dinner, but other than that, I could only hear our footsteps on the linoleum flooring. By now we'd stopped skipping, but Medic was still smiling. He adjusted his glasses and fixed his hair. Oh vanity.

"Herr Schrodinger, you must know by now that I have the ability to charge up other teammates, ja?"

"Yup."

"You haven't been given an Uber-heart yet, that is vhat I asked you here for."

"Aight. You gonna put me under, or is it one of those procedures that I can be awake for?"

"You may decide. I think you vould be better off being put under, but it isn't my call."

"I'll stay awake, if ya don't mind. I wanna talk to you while you do the operation." I smiled at him and he turned away quickly, stifling a laugh. We marched on, joyous at each others' company, no words were necessary to fill the silence.

The first time I walked into the infirmary was surprisingly tame. I'd heard stories of blood spatters staining the walls and body parts being held in pickling jars, but I suppose that might be the other Medic that does that. The BLU Medic kept his lab clean and tidy. He had a ton of syringes lined up next to their appropriate vials in a glass cupboard. His tools were on a metal tray next to the operating table, ready for use.

"So for this operation, will I need to strip off my shirt?"

"I'm sorry, herr Schrodinger, but you're correct." He was blushing, obviously this was the first time he'd operated on a girl.

"Aight." I shamelessly stripped off my shirt and bra and jumped onto the operating table. Medic got the message. 'I trust you.'

"So, who usually wins in your chess battles?" He took a scalpel and made an incision, pointing the medi-gun at me.

"It's pretty even, but so far, Heavy has von more times than I." He cut out my heart and attached the Uber-meter.

"Huh. So he's really smart, it's just that he hasn't gotten into the rhythm of speaking English yet?" He placed the Uber-heart in and fired up the Medi-gun.

"In a vay, yes. That should do it." My skin closed up around the Uber-heart. I looked up to see Archimedes. I put up a finger for him to perch himself on, and he obliged. I stroked his soft feathers and cooed about how handsome he was.

"Archimedes and Schrodinger… Who would've thought that we'd meet up this way?" We laughed at the irony. A sudden crack of thunder startled Archimedes off of his perch.

"Oh, a thunder storm? If it rains, ve may not fight tomorrow." He had a glimmer of hope in his eyes. I genuinely think that he and the others don't want me to be on the other team. They probably don't want to see me in pain… I looked at the tiled flooring as I thought about what tonight would bring, a garble of thunder pushing me further into the confines of my mind.

Hey, I wonder what that Sniper's really like!

I don't care to find out what that Medic is like… What if he tries to experiment on us before we become the neutral party?

I'd kill him before he tried.

Question, why are you guys judging them based on rumor? I mean, yeah, some of it could be true, but I doubt they're that bad. Besides, the Sniper didn't seem that bad when we were with him before.

We're in the middle of a war zone.

You have a solid point. However! That doesn't make everyone a pack of lunatics.

Just us.

Yeah.

"Herr Schrodinger, I believe dinner is ready." I got off of the operating table and put on my shirt and bra.

"Kay, Medic. You think the kitchen's gonna be as bad as they said it would be?"

"Vell, I've been hearing the echoes of their arguments this entire time, so I can't eliminate the possibility."

"Aight." As I began to head for the door, Medic grabbed my arm. I looked back at him. He was facing the floor, blushing.

"Thank you for being mature about this. I vas doubting myself before the operation…"

"Doc. Don't dwell on it. Let's just go make sure the others didn't kill each other. Or worse, create a monster! With their cooking skills, would you think that's possible?" A light chuckle soothed from him and he smiled.

"I vouldn't doubt it for a second."

Switch to everyone but Schrodinger's perspective.

Why is she so nice to us? I find it impossible that a child this young could be so genuinely concerned for the wellbeing of others. The way she… I need to stop thinking like this. It'll surely drive me insane, if it hasn't already.

This is war! But, it's good to see a smiling face even in the heated jaws of battle.

She must be hiding something, but what? I already know that she has that disorder, but that's not it… God, she's maddening! Is she from Norway? No, the accent's wrong… Italy? She did say 'gratzi' to Sniper, but that could be because she's multilingual. Could she be from the United States? But even if she were, which part…

So many things are going to go unspoken… I wonder if she even has a clue that so many of us care about her?

I want more booze! These bloody idiots don't understand my train of thought… But Schrodinger… That wee lassie does. She knows how I think. I wonder if she understands all of us?

I wonder if she likes fire, too? She seems like she does. Maybe I'll ask her… But I don't want her to be offended, like an 'all redheads like fire' stereotype… but I gotta ask!

I can't wait to play baseball with her, but I wonder how her pitcher's arm is? Does she like winning? Oh God, what if I piss her off? Should I let her win? But what if she figures out that I'm going easy on her… Would that make her even more pissed?

I wonder if she likes playing chess as well, maybe I could invite her to a game after she gets back from the neutral party. Medic would surely be sore, but I'm sure he'd be understanding.

Schrodinger's curious about what her base'll look like, but I wonder about her fort. It doesn't look like it'll be done until the day she has to use it. Those darn fools over at Mann Co. never get the job done before the due date. They always wait til the last minute. It's becoming a problem. Hehe, practical problems…

Switching back to Schrodinger's perspective.

I looked at the clock. 7:11.

Geez, I'm freaking hungry! I hope those knuckleheads didn't destroy the kitchen… With Spy in charge of the cooking, maybe it's not as bad as I'm making it out to be? He's dependable, right?

He's a Spy. His job is to be traitorous and to kill silently and efficiently.

My throat went dry and I swallowed hard, trying to think the best of him. He's been rather- wait! He did warn me about the other team on the car ride! That means he wouldn't kill me off! Whew. Thank God. If he hadn't done that, I probably wouldn't be eating tonight. Still, that could be a ploy to make me think that I'm safe.

I walked into the dining room with Medic, still going over the traitor/friend relationship theory in my head. A wonderful garlic smell invaded my thoughts and I was instantly captivated in it's aroma. My feet lifted off the ground as I floated over to the kitchen.

"Non! Zhe dish ez not done yet. You will 'ave to wait, mon ami." I looked around the kitchen at the perfectly splattered butter sauce and spilled flour caking the stovetop.

"What happened in here? It literally looks like something exploded."

"I do not wish to talk about it." His brow furrowed and his lips pursed together, as if he was recalling a traumatic experience. Poor baguette.

"I wanted to help with tha cookin', but tha spook wanted to be in charge of it. The fight got a lil outta hand…" Sniper trailed off as he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling at how territorial he'd gotten.

"Hey, where is everyone, anyways?"

"Zhe last I saw zhey were off getting drunk, celebrating today's victory."

"Before dinner? Do they always do that?"

"No worries, mate! They'll be sober by the time tha spook's finished cookin'."

"What ez zhat supposed to mean, filthy jarman?" The two had sparks of anger going off between them, and I instantly saw how the kitchen got this dirty in the first place. I smiled at their childish rivalry and walked to my couch. I noticed that even Medic was gone now. Funny, I didn't see him drinking at the poker game… Maybe he's getting the others for dinner. Makes sense.

I opened a portal and grabbed out a sketch pad. I wasn't going to let this opportunity pass. I drew Spy with flour on his balaclava as he threw a handful of shrimp at Sniper, who was running with a mischievous gleam in his two-dimensional eyes and a wide smile stretching from one sideburn to the other. I signed the picture -FF, making sure not to use my real initials. I'm sure Spy will appreciate that. I hung up the photo above the couch, giggling happily as I waltzed out onto the porch.

"Oi, Schro, you going somewhere, mate?"

"Nah, I'm just getting some fresh air."

"I'm coming, too. This wanker is about to drive me crazy." He and Spy exchanged angry glances before he joined me on the porch.

"I feel sorry for you, Schrodinger. Zhat bushman must be 'orrible with small talk." I ignored him as I indulged myself in the night air. It's smooth but crisp flavor traveled to my lungs, holding them hostage as I was filled with this wondrous ecstasy that captivated all of my senses.

"Heh, one would think you haven't been outside in years." He took off his aviators and looked up at the stars. "You got any plans for tomorrow?"

"I do, not that I'd share them with my enemy." I punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Ouch, I'm not the enemy until midnight. I still got a couple of hours." He looked into my eyes with a hint of sadness in his own.

"...Have you heard the rumor about the foxes and the hyenas?" He shook his head as he leaned against the railing. "Supposedly, the hyenas hate the foxes because the foxes are cunning and always find ways to humiliate the hyenas. But the hyenas always laugh, because they don't want the other animals to know how peeved they are that they still haven't been able to trick those darn foxes."

"Are you a fox?" I nodded and smiled mischievously.

"Then what am I?" He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer.

"You're a shrew. Smart, but always jumping to conclusions." I laughed at his surprised expression.

"Clever girl. What would you say the spook is?" I glanced at Spy while he was setting the dinner table, preparing to yell for everyone to get washed up for dinner.

I laughed. "He's a mother hen, caring for his flock with a firm hand."

Sniper paused for a moment, looked over at Spy, the burst out laughing. It was a beautiful, low toned laugh, one that I hadn't heard yet. His eyes curled up into a smile and he doubled over into his fit of insane laughter.

"Ahem. If you do not mind, petite, I'd rather it if you wouldn't sully my reputation." Spy materialized next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders coldly and blowing a puff of smoke in Sniper's direction.

"It was supposed to be a compliment, mostly. Your animal selves change as your mood does. Right now, I feel as though I'm being eyed down by a snake." I giggled softly.

"Oi, ya bloody spook! Git outta here!" Sniper was on his feet in seconds, a renewed anger flowing through his veins.

"Dinner ez ready, ungrateful bushman. Would you accompany me, mon ami?" He held out his hand for me to take, but I kindly refused before Sniper could step in. I strode into the dining hall alone, leaving the two gents to their bickering.

By then, all of the mercs had filed into the dining room, excited for the first decent dinner they've had in a long time.

"Do you guys wanna play a game? Y'know, before I leave." I looked around the room at the excited yet deflated faces. "It's a guessing game…" I winked at them as they roared with new vitality. I wrote down five numbers and put them into Soldier's helmet.

"Aight, who's drawing the card? The number determines how many questions I can skip."

"I will! Man, I am so gonna win this! By the end of this game-" He pulled out a three.

"Awesome. That works out well for me." I smirked at them as they collectively yelled at Scout for drawing such a bad card.

I sat down next to Engie and Pyro, allowing the garlic's aroma to once again enter my nose, putting me into a trance of gluttony and lust. What can I say? I love food.

"Alright, first question." Pyro stood up.

"Mpo mpou mpike mpire?"

"Yes. I'm not quite as hypnotized by it as you are, but it is entertaining." Pyro's mask smiled as he sat down to enjoy his meal. I laughed inwardly at his simple nature. So cute.

"Did you go to college?" Engie inquired as he slurped up one of the noodles. By now, Sniper and Spy had joined us.

"No, but I have a degree in biochemistry and nuclear physics. Among other things." I giggled when he went slack-jawed.

"You wanna work together with me on a project sometime?"

"Ah, one question per person." Although he looked disappointed, I winked at him that maybe I would sometime. That seemed to lift his spirits.

"Vhere do you hail from?" I looked towards Medic in a confused fashion.

"I already told you guys."

"Zhat wasn't a legitimate answer, petite." Eyes were on me as I munched on a shrimp.

"Pass!" A number of groans and whines escaped the men.

"What is leetle Schro's fighting style?" Heavy eagerly awaited his answer.

"Hand to hand. I'm pretty sure you guys already knew some of these facts." I savored the taste of the shrimps in the butter and garlic sauce. The spaghetti was creamy and made the dish even better.

"Do you love America with all of your heart?"

"Not with all of my heart, but yeah. America is a great country."

"Damn right it is!"

"Do you know 'ow to make explosives?"

"Yes. One of these days I'll get back to you on that." Demoman chuckled as he took a swig of hard liquor.

"I'll look forward to it, wee lassie!"

"Are you interested in any of the men here? Relationship wise." Sniper blushed when Scout nudged him, getting up to get a beer 'real quick' while still in earshot of the conversation. He was mumbling something about ankle biters minding their own business.

"Pass." I had to giggle at everyone's expressions. They almost looked disappointed.

"'Ave I met you somewhere prior to zhis?" Spy was looking dead into my eyes. As if he were trying to claw his way into my head to find out who I was. I thought for a moment. If I passed on this one, I still had to worry about Scout's question. But if I answered him, he'd know exactly who I am. I took a sip of milk as everyone leaned in, absorbing the suspense.

"Pass!" Spy's nose twitched a little, but other than that, he seemed unfazed.

"Hey, Schro!" Sniper walked back into the dining room, I guess he was a bit let down by my answer, his shoulders were slumped and he was avoiding eye contact.

"Scout. What's your question?"

A long pause…

"Do you like fried chicken? 'Cause I know this place we can go to after our game. If ya do, I mean…" Of all the questions he could've asked… Thank you, Scout.

"Heh, I don't mind fried chicken, but after a baseball game? That's a recipe for a bad stomach ache. Y'know?"

He simply shrugged.


Author's Note:

"Tell. Me. What's. Going. On."

"Herr Sniper, calm down."

"Stay out a this, Medic."

"Dummkopf…"

"Just because I haven't brought Schrodinger back into your loving arms yet doesn't mean I won't. Be patient, Sniper."

"... Can I ask ya somethin', Author?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"They're not torturing her over there, are they?"

"No."

"And they aren't gettin' all touchy?"

"No."

"Can I see tha notes?"

"No."

"Why tha bloody hell not?! If yer tellin' me tha truth, then-"

"It isn't if, Sniper. I am telling you the truth. Just have a bit of faith. And take a shower, you smell like piss."

"I do not! … Do I really?"

"Yeah. Sorry brah."

"Bloody spy… Makin' me throw my piss jar in my nest."

"Good to see you've calmed down."

"For now, but I'd better see Schro soon."

"It's literally been just a day for you. It's been weeks for all of my audience, and see how mature they are about it!"

"You wankers better not 'ave instigated this sicko. She's drivin' our team mad."

"No, just you. And Heavy. Maybe Medic and Demo. Freakin' Scots…"

"I 'eard that ya bloody leprechaun!"

"Mph mpike mputhor!"

"Thank you! See? Not your entire team hates me. Therefore, I have a reason to stay. Besides, if I left, you'd drive yourself insane faster than you are now. This way, you have something to cushion all of your anxieties."

Jesus, I'm getting sick of him complaining. Think I'm gonna transfer over to BLU when Schro gets here. You'd like that, wouldn't you, my dearest audience?