The sun rose, painting the van and surrounding grassland light pinks and oranges. Scout drew in his sketch book while Sniper drove to their new home. "Hey snipes, where's the nearest gas station?" "Not far, why?" "I'm huuungrry!" "Alroight, I'll stop." The Australian shot Scout a smile and received an eyeroll. Sniper pulled into the station. He tried to hand Scout some money, but instead Scout grabbed him by the hand, insisting he needed an "Australian candy expert". Scout dragged him into the candy aisle. "Yer gonna need some of these, a pack of this, and that." Sniper handed him some of the candy, labeled tim tams, and some other assorted weird snacks. While Sniper was distracted by the non-perishables, Scout threw in a pack of candy cigarettes and some gummy worms. He then found Sniper, weighing what type of rope was better. "What's the rope for?" Scout asked with a distrustful look. "For hanging game up, and for tying nooses for bogans who ask weird questions." Scout scrunched his eyes. "Bogan this, drongo that, are ya ever gonna explain what any of that means?" Scout asked, completely disregarding Sniper's last statement. "No, cause it's funny." Sniper grinned back at him. "Oh, screw you." Scout faked annoyance. Sniper chuckled and made his way over to the counter to pay. The cashier said the price and Sniper pulled his wallet out of his pocket. Or at least tried too. Then he checked the other pocket. Empty. He looked like he had ants on him, giving himself a pat down, growing steadily more panicked. "Scout." He whispered, looming over the runner. "One, have you seen my wallet, and two, if you haven't, do you have any money?" He was white. Scout's eyes briefly widened. "The airport, and yes, I have money." He grinned, making Sniper confused. Most people weren't very happy when you asked them for money. He ran off in the direction of the van and returned seconds later, holding something behind his back. "Excuuse mee..." Scout paused to read the cashier's name tag. "Cassie, but have you heard of the unfortunate death of world's best American singer, Tom Jones?" Two things were wrong with Scout's sentence, the cashier's name was Carollynn, and second, I thought he was Welsh? Sniper shot Scout an odd look. What the bloody hell is Scout doing? "I think I have?" The cashier answered. "Well, since his death, his merchandise has skyrocketed, and I have I great offer for you in exchange of payment." Even Cassie shot him an odd look. Scout brought the object out from behind his back. It was a tom jones figurine, pulled straight from his personal collection. Cassie- no Carollynn, looked interested. "This figurine is only one of 12 in existence; would you take it?" Carollynn nodded slowly with her mouth open. Scout plopped the figure on the table and shuffled towards the door, ushering Sniper to follow him. Sniper apologized to the poor worker then bolted out the door behind Scout. He hopped in the driver's seat and started the van. "Where the bloody hell did you learn to do that?!" He asked, eyes flicking between Scout and the road. "Oh, Spy taught me." Scout said nonchalantly. "Was that stuff about the figurine true?" "Yeah, but I still have eleven left so..." Scout grinned at him. Sniper had to remind himself to shut his jaw, while Scout just tore into the bag of gummy worms, like it was nothing. Sniper pushed past his amazement and held out his right hand for some gummy worms. It is Scout, unpredictable as he is. "Hey snipes, what station for baseball?" "We don't have baseball, but we do have cricket, 99.7" It was Scout's turn to be surprised. "Frickin unbelievable! What kind of uncivilized country doesn't have baseball!" "Oi, I don't complain about the lack of vegemite in the U.S!" Scout flipped past the cricket station and found one playing the latest hits. He listened for a while before interrupting the music. "What song is this?" "Walk don't run by the ventures." "I like it, sounds fresh." "I'd have to agree with ya on that one." -
"Sniiipeees, is there anything to do in here?" "Well, you can either be quiet and listen to the radio or go to the back." Sniper offered with a nagging tone. "I'll take the back." Sniper brought the van to a slow and Scout hopped in the back. He took his shoes off, as per Snipers rules. He breathed in the familiar smell of the occasional cigarette and coffee, mixed with jarate-based musk. It was a gross smell, but he'd gotten over the first few times he been inside the back. Scanning over the small space he noted nothing had changed decoration-wise. Still the same old mini fridge in the kitchenette, the bed that was way to small for the gangly Australian, and the distinct lack of anything interesting. He jumped on the loft bed and fell onto his back with a sigh. The van's interior had always been pretty empty, or at least to him. He hoped the house wouldn't look like this, or he'd have to give Sniper a lesson in decoration. Ugggh, maybe it was time for a nap. Jet lag still had its hold on him, and there'd still be plenty of driving till they got there. Yeah, a nap sounded pretty good about now, but his stomach argued against that idea. Scout sat up and hopped down from the floor. He clambered over to the small fridge and threw it open. From inside he grabbed some lemon jam and bread to hold his hunger off for a while. While eating the first real food he'd had in a while he played with his dog tags and sprawled out on the bed. He could hardly wait to arrive at his destination.