Thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favorites! I know I haven't been too dilligent updating but I hope you guys like this chapter. Please review to let me know what you think!
:::
"Gentlemen...I trust you know why I gathered you all here today."
Scout stood tall at the front of the conference room, hands crossed behind his back, and facing the wall with unwarranted drama.
"Affirmative!" blurted out Soldier, leaning forward in his seat across the conference table behind Scout. "We're here because you called us together for an urgent matter!"
"Well, uh, yeah. Right," the youngest mercenary fumbled, uncrossing his hands from his back, no longer channeling his inner Spy. He turned to face his teammates with an expression of the utmost seriousness.
"Where the hell is everyone!" exclaimed Scout, throwing his hands out at the near empty room. Soldier sat in the chair next to him, staring at Scout from behind his helmet. The patriot was dressed in full uniform, down to the grenades clipped to his coat that he seldom used. Two chairs down Pyro had his hands neatly folded on the table, listening to Scout with earnest attention. Next to him, Engineer frowned, one eyebrow raising above his dark goggles and otherwise looking to regret ever stepping into the conference from. The last mercenary attending the impromptu meeting was Demoman, leaning back in his seat with his Scrumpy in hand.
"C'mon lad! Tell us the 'urgent matter'," the cyclops pressed, taking a swig of his alcohol and letting out a small burp. Engineer shot him a glance from behind his goggles.
"Yeah, pardner. You don't normally call group meetings, and I'm a mite suspicious this ain't as urgent as you're making it out to be. Some of us were in the middle of things."
"My fellow American is right," broke in Soldier, snarling and throwing a fist into the table. "Are we under attack? Is it the bread again?" Scout glared, shaking his head.
"No! This is much more serious. And I ain't talkin' till the doc, fatass, French bastard, and Sniper are here," held back Scout, crossing his arms. Suddenly Soldier was upon him, meaty hands holding the younger man up by his shirt collar.
"Speak you hippie!" barked the patriot. "BLU could attack us at any second!" Scout flailed, head turned away as Soldier's spit got in his face.
"We are all here to kill Scout?" Medic strolled into the room., without his white coat and hands covered in dry blood. Heavy followed after, chewing on a sandwich, unsurprising since Scout had abruptly announced the meeting a few minutes before the group usually went for dinner.
"Let me go, ya bastard!" snapped Scout, bringing his feet up to kick Soldier in the chest. It didn't seem to bother the larger man at all, but nonetheless, he let go of Scout's collar, dropping him to the floor.
"Oui. Did you call us here to kill you?" Everyone turned to see Spy decloak at the corner of the room, behind Pyro who waved. Dressed in full suit and mask, the Frenchman reached into his jacket for his cigarettes and lighter.
"Why do you always do that?" questioned Engineer, scowling at his fellow mercenary who slid into the chair next to Pyro.
"Eh, I knew he was there the entire time," commented Demo, waving one hand in the air flippantly.
"What is this urgent matter you called us for, Scout," Spy asked, ignoring Engineer's question as Scout slowly rose to his feet, shooting Soldier a glare and straightening out his shirt. Soldier returned it, unseen behind his helmet, but nonetheless returned to his chair, fingers curled.
"Not until that campin' camper gets here. I ain't repeatin' myself," Scout stated.
"Is it a mission?" snapped Soldier, impatiently slamming his fist into the table again, the wood shaking and nearly spilling Demo's scrumpy.
"Uh. Sorta."
"From announcer lady?" Heavy questioned, now sitting next to Medic who had taken up residence at Demo's side. The Russian had some sandwich left in his hand, no doubt taking his time.
"Well, no. I mean-"
"Wot's all this about then?" Sniper walked in, dressed down with only his uniform shirt and trousers. He was even missing his aviators, revealing wrinkles under his eyes.
"About time, you hippie," Soldier remarked, sitting up in his seat. "This is an urgent matter. We could all have been dead by now!" The Australian snorted at the overzealous American's declaration, taking the remaining chair between Engineer and Demoman.
"Unfortunately, all of you blokes are alive. Wot are we here for? Is Scout finally going through puberty?" This earned a giggle from Pyro and a bout of laughter from Demo. Engineer smirked a little, one fist brought up to his mouth to hide it. Heavy frowned, eyebrows furrowed.
"Puberty?" The Russian never recalled hearing such an English word, and as usual, wished he was as fluent in English as his teammates were.
"Hardy har har," mocked Scout, crossing his arms again. "Laugh it up chucklenuts. Now, I got a real important mission for all ya."
"That isn't from the announcer," Spy added in, lighting up a cigarette and bringing it to his lips.
"Right, it's from...my ma'." Immediately, Soldier perked up in his seat.
"Quickly! We must go to Scout's mother's aid!" the patriot exclaimed, ready to jump out of his seat only for Spy's free hand to grab his shoulder and pull him back down.
"What does ye mum want, lad? Any folks botherin' a lady like her?" The Scotsman of the group asked, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat, now as interested as most of the team. It was unheard of to ever get a mission from a civilian.
"Well, here's how it is," started Scout, rubbing his palms together and starting to pace. "See, this year my ma' got involved with a holiday shindig this lady in her book club throws before Christmas. It's for an elementary school, ya know, like the lady's part of the PTA or whatever. Anyway, every year they throw a play. But see, this year the theater group that does the play moved to another state. Like, less than a month ago. Basically, it's too late to replace them with another local group for the event on December twelfth." Scout paused, finally meeting the eyes of the rest of the mercenaries. They all stared at him.
"And...wot does this got to do with us?" Sniper spoke up, voicing everyone's one question.
"Well," Scout started, one hand moving to rub the back of his neck as he finally stopped pacing. "My ma' got the great idea that me and my brothers could save the play. But ain't none of them gonna be around to really prepare for it..."
"And..." pressed Engineer, dread starting to set in his chest as he realized where this was going.
"And you signed us all up instead," finished Spy, puffing at his lit cigarette with seemingly no concern. Silence engulfed the room.
"...yeah."
"Wot."
"I'll do it!" exclaimed Soldier, jumping up from his seat and waving a fist in the air. "A dame like that needs us boys, we can't let her down!"
"I'm sorry, you vant us to act and put on a play," Reiterated Medic, raising one eyebrow, bloody hands moving to adjust his glasses. "Is zis a joke? Or are you having a psychotic break?"
"I'm serious," snapped Scout, waving his arms out. "Look, my ma' really needs us and I-"
"Heavy does not know how to act."
"Mmpit mphud mee mphun..."
"Wooooot are you even talkin' about!" interrupted Sniper, glaring at Scout. "We're mercenaries not bloody actors! Did you consider, uh I don't know, our job. Here. Killing people with no time off to do a little play for a bunch of diaper wearin' mongrels."
"Elementary school students don't wear diapers," commented Spy dryly, blowing out smoke. "Is that how it is in Australia?"
"December twelfz is a physical day." Everyone turned to meet Medic's wide eyes. "Every physical day is ceasefire." Which meant it was possible. That it was actually, terrifyingly possible for a group of nine mercenaries to put on a play for a small Boston elementary school.
"Nope," Sniper stated simply, crossing his arms. "I refuse."
"I agree. I'm not much of an actor meself," added Demo, an edge of doubt in his normally confident voice.
"What do we get out of this," Spy asked, staring down at his cigarette. "Are you planning to pay us?"
"Whatever the original theater group was gettin'! Which, I mean, it ain't a lot, but I was mostly hopin' you would do it out of the goodness of your heart?"
"I will do it for Miss Scout's mother!" Soldier announced, nodding his head. "Do it for her. It's for the holidays! Anything less would be completely un-American."
"What a shame," put in Medic flatly.
"M'll mphlp!" Pyro volunteered, raising a hand. He bounced in his seat, seemingly excited about the prospect of acting or participating in a play. Scout grinned. That was two. He turned to Heavy.
"What about you, fatass? You ain't even gotta talk much. My ma' knows it's last minute, so she ain't expectin' anything fancy."
"Nyet." Scout gaped as the large Russian returned to his sandwich.
"What! C'mon ya bastards! My ma' really needs this, and you're gonna get paid!"
"I must decline," Medic said, slowly pushing back his chair. "I am a doctor, not an actor." The German rose from his seat, followed by Sniper, both set on leaving the room and putting the entire meeting behind them. Scout rushed to block the door with his body, and tried to look really, really sad.
"Would ya rather ruin a coupla' kids' Christmas? Think of the kids!"
"Forget the kids!" yelled Sniper. "I am not dressing up like a girl. Not again."
Everyone in the room went silent, staring at the sharpshooter. Realizing his slip, the Australian started to turn red.
"Er, I mean. Yeah, for the kids..." Sniper tried to bury himself in his shirt, shoulders rising in shame.
"I'll take that as a yes! Unless you want us all to look more into what you just said." Scout smirked. "What about you, doc?" Medic staunchly shook his head.
"I am uninterested. Move, bitte."
"Doc!" blurted out Scout, jumping over to reach for Medic's suspenders and holding on. "C'mon man! Think of your own ma'!" Medic just stared with a slightly raised eyebrow.
"The lad's right!" exploded Demoman, saving Scout from anymore pathetic pleas. The Scotsman took a gulp of his alcohol as he stood. "We need to do this. For all the mums out there!"
"Weren't you against this?" Engineer brought up, wearily looking up at Demo next to him.
"Aye. But, the little shit has a point. I'm no American, but if me mum asked me for a favor like this, I'd sure as hell help her. I'm in, lad," Demo asserted, perhaps more drunk than usual. "And ye should be ashamed spook. This is your area of specialty."
Spy raised his eyes and nodded, as if considering that, yes, he was in fact the mercenary with the most applicable skills for acting.
"It is. And I would never miss a chance to show up you imbeciles...I'll do it. " Scout didn't think Spy would be quick to agree, but decided it was best not to question the Frenchman. Whatever motives Spy may have, Scout just assured himself he would not be roped into anything ridiculous like when he fought Soldier over his ma's dinner.
"Great!" Soldier grinned, excitedly standing and slamming a fist into his open palm. "The rest of you are communists if you don't do it."
Engineer frowned. "I'm only gonna do it 'cause of the kids. Not because you called me a communist."
"That just leaves you and the fatass," exclaimed Scout, tugging at Medic's suspenders, seemingly unaware how annoyed the German was getting at his close proximity.
"Mmpho mpit mmhic!" Pyro pressed for Medic's agreement, but the physician shook his head.
"Heavy will act." Everyone turned attention to the heavy weapons expert who had finally finished his sandwich and now sat comfortably in his chair. "But only if Scout will say sorry." The Bostonian blinked, finally letting go of Medic's suspenders, much to the older man's relief.
"Er, for what?"
"Heavy is not fat." Scout blinked, realization sinking in.
"Oh, uh. Sorry man. For uh, callin' ya a fatass and stuff...even if ya kinda are." The runner mumbled the last few words, too prideful to fully concede to the demand. Regardless, Heavy seemed to accept it, or perhaps already wanted to act and was just trying to have a bit of fun. Most likely the latter.
"Well Doc?" Scout grinned at the physician who glanced at his fellow mercenaries. Pyro and Demo were nodding wildly for his agreement, and Soldier mouthed the word "communist." Medic sighed, looking back at Scout.
"What play vill ve be performing?"
"A Christmas Carol!"
:::
The mercs banding together to help out Scout Ma for the kids and mums everywhere! Will this be a total disaster? I don't know. Are you interested in how it all turns out? Review and let me know!