I am so appreciative of all of the love this story is getting! Click on or copy paste the links embedded in the story into your search bar for a little surprise, but be aware audio is involved. (Sorry, I couldn't resist).
"Incoming!"
Scout jumped over a bench, narrowing missing Pyro, and rebounded off the lockers.
Spy groaned, rubbing his temples. "Must you be this insufferable at 11 o'clock in the morning?"
The runner just snorted. "Good mornin to ya too, Spook!" Then he turned his back on the man and sat down to complete his daily ritual of wrapping his hands and wrists in bandages.
"You're in a right cheerful mood today, lad!" Demo commented from nearby.
"We heard the ol' Sniper didn't manage to corral you yesterday, is that still true, son?" Engineer asked, sorting through his toolbox.
All eyes turned to Scout, even Pyro's, although it was hard to tell with their mask. The Bostonian smirked.
"Nah, it was a close one, but in the end, he couldn't touch this." If Scout saw Sniper stiffen up considerably in the corner, he didn't let on. "But it ain't over yet, right, man?"
Sniper grumbled a non-committal response, refusing to look up at him.
"You're no fun today!" the youngest merc told him, turning back to his task.
"Maybe because my coffee disappeared this morning…know anything about that, Roo?"
Scout immediately looked guilty. "No…why would I?"
"Who else would have the balls to sneak into my van in the middle of the night just to steal coffee?"
"Well, when ya put it like that…" Scout grinned at him. "Yeah, it was me."
Eyes turned to the runner, surprised at his boldness. Sniper didn't look the least bit startled.
"What did ya do with it, anyway?"
Scout, perhaps unwisely, looked even prouder of himself. "I buried it."
"You buried moy coffee in the bloody desert?"
"Well, how else was I going to keep you from findin' it?" When Sniper continued to glare at him, he waved a hand at the sharpshooter. "Relax, I'll give it back ta you. I just didn't want you gettin up as early as me and skulking around."
Sniper looked offended. "I don't skulk…" he muttered, going back to avoiding eye contact with everyone.
Demo, on the other hand, found this statement to be hilarious. "Ack, yes you do, lad!" He took a deep swig from the first of his many daily drinks, finishing it off. "You're always lurking around, settin' traps for the little b'y, and ye still can't catch him!"
"It looks like you have joined me in the lost pursuit of predicting the outcome of Sniper's pursuit of the boy!" Soldier proclaimed. He had already been prepared for battle since 8 am that morning, as usual, and thus was only in the locker room to bark orders that went mostly unheeded.
"Aye." Was all the Scotsman said in response, eyeing his empty beer bottle with despondency.
Scout's head perked up again. "Wait what?"
"Wipe that wax out of your ears, soldier! I said that myself and the demolition man were incorrect about-"
"Ja, thank you Soldier, that vill be quite enough!" Medic interrupted, but Scout would not be deterred.
"Don't cut 'im off, he was sayin' something about me an' Snipes, and being incorrect or whatever!"
Spy rolled his eyes, unconsciously reaching for a cigarette. "Zey are betting on when the bushman is going to catch you, idiot boy."
"Hey!" Scout shouted, instantly standing up and reaching for his bat.
Engineer, once again, decided to step in. "Alright, well I guess that cats' out of the bag. A couple of us have lost so far, but like ya said, it ain't over yet."
Scout gave Spy a sharp look, but his curiosity got the better of him and he turned to Engineer.
"Oh yea? Who's out?"
"That would be us, lad." Demo, who had secured another bottle of beer, gestured to himself and Soldier with one hand. "Spy didn't join in a'course."
"Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence, guys." Scout deadpanned.
He then turned to the rest of the room and began counting the other mercs. "If me, Spy, an' Snipes didn't bet, an' you two lost, that means there's…four of you left?"
"Yes, but don't be asking who bet on vhich day, ve didn't want one of you to throw the competition so someone specific would vin the money."
Scout barked a little laugh and shook his head. "Are ya tellin' me you thought I would just let him win? No fuckin' way, someone's got to keep him on his toes, right Snipes?"
He turned to where the Australian mercenary was sitting, only to find the space vacant. "And…he's gone." The runner rolled his eyes. "What's gottin into him today, geez…"
Focusing back on the previous conversation, Scout turned back to Medic. "Fine, I won't ask who bet on the last few days, but who bet on me winnin'? Cuz they're the one who's going to get the money so…"
An awkward silence descended on the locker room, and no one would meet the youngest mercenary's eyes. Scout was beginning to feel a cold prickle of dread in his stomach when a large hand came down on his shoulder.
"I did." Engineer said from where he was standing behind Scout. "Sorry pardner, I zoned out for a second there."
Scout laughed, hoping he didn't look as relieved as he felt. "It's cool, Hardhat. Good choice, by tha' way!"
Engineer chuckled, ruffling the runner's hair as he walked towards Medic, his face shifting to a frown as soon as Scout couldn't see.
Pyro, sensing the tension, engaged Scout's attention by pulling on his shirt and shouting something unintelligible.
"Whoa, whoa, Mumbles, say that again, and like 10 times slower!"
In a hushed voice, Medic addressed Engineer. "So you are changing your bet, then?"
"Looks like it." The Texan responded. "Two a us bet on today anyways, so what's the harm, Heavy can have today."
The German looked sceptical. "Vell, I will change it in the records then. But… do you actually think he can vin?"
Engie looked over at Scout, still trying to keep up with an exuberant Pyro, who was more animated than a child who had eaten a Super sized McFlurry.
"He's lasted this long, have some faith in the kid."
Medic hmmed and turned away, clearly not agreeing. Before Engineer could say anything else, the Administrator's voice came over the loudspeaker.
"You must defend our intelligence. I expect victory."
"Gosh darn it, someone go get the Sniper!" Engineer shouted.
Soldier snapped to attention. "There will be no deserters on my watch!" He leapt over the bench and headed for the door, slamming directly into Sniper as he came back in.
"I'm roight here, you psychotic-"
"Focus!" Heavy barked, hefting Sasha into his arms. "We cannot let the BLUs get intelligence!"
Pushing Soldier off of him, Sniper pulled his rifle off his back and joined the rest of the team at the door, ready to head out into the fight.
"Wave goodbye to ya secret crap, dumbass!" Scout shouted over his shoulder as he burst out of the BLU intelligence room, their briefcase strapped to his back. w/images/3/3d/Scout_
The soldier behind him let a rocket loose after him, but Scout dodged it easily, watching it crash into a nearby wall, causing it to crumble.
"Ya really shouldn't play with ya toys inside the house!" the runner shouted, leaving the soldier in the dust as he headed for one of the exits.
As he exited the concrete building, Scout inhaled deeply to catch his breath, only to be greeted with a cloud of dust, coupled with the scent of blood. At this point, the smell had become familiar to him, it was just a typical day in Teufort.
The enemy scout went careening by, his double being chased by Heavy, who was laughing his signature deep maniacal laugh. Medic followed close behind, red healing energy flowing from his gun into the Russian's body.
The BLU scout died with an agonized scream, and as respawn whisked his body away, Heavy glanced towards Scout, a smile lighting up his broad face. "You have briefcase, good job leetle Scout!"
A sound from Scout's right caught their attention, the BLU pyro was heading towards them, flamethrower alight.
"Aw, man…" Scout muttered. He hated the pyro, they were surprisingly fast on their feet, and getting lit on fire hurt like hell until you died.
Heavy, on the other hand, relished the oncoming fight. "I'm coming for you!" He cheered, turning Sasha's barrels towards the pyro.
w/images/2/2d/Heavy_
Medic followed suit. "Go to the capture point." He told Scout. "Ve vill deal with him."
Eager not to stick around and become a human s'more, the runner took off in the opposite direction, heading for the RED capture zone.
Once the rest of the BLU team realized he was carrying their intelligence, they would rain hell down on him, so he wanted to get as close to their capture point as he could. He frequently made these captures on his own, but it would be easier to pass off the briefcase to someone else if he got closer to the point.
No sooner had that thought crossed his mind when several blue bombs landed near him, skipping and rolling across the ground. Thankfully, the bombs were rolling perpendicularily to his path, but Scout picked up his pace even further in order to avoid any of the blasts.
Naturally, this meant that the BLU demoman was not far behind, leaping down from some crates with a hearty laugh, a bottle of whiskey in his right hand. The BLU demoman was Irish, and despised being referred to as any other nationality, but he did share the RED demoman's love for a drink (or several).
"I'll be takin' that briefcase back now, boyo!"
Scout smirked as the demoman stopped several feet away from him. His weapons were less ranged than the older man's, which meant that the demo was (wisely) giving the runner a wide berth.
Scout's blue eyes never left the demoman's hands, prepared to dodge if one of them even brushed against his myriad of explosives. However, the demoman still hadn't moved. Instead, he gestured past himself with a challenging smile.
"Come on then, yu'll have to pass me to deliver that intell!"
Scout shook his head. "I'd rather deal with you first." He pulled out his scattergun, eyes scanning the nearby terrain. No one else was close by, but that also meant there was no one to get in his way. If he could get a boost by pushing off the nearby stack of crates, he could gain enough height to jump right over his opponent, and land a few shots in his face and chest to boot.
He gave the demoman a little smirk, and a 'come at me' gesture. "Ya hungry for lead?"
But before the demoman could respond or make a move, his head became a blur of red mist as a bullet pierced his skull.
Scout lowered his gun a little as the man collapsed, dead.
'Sniper must have been watching.' He thought with mild disappointment, since the sharpshooter had effectively stolen his kill. An obstacle had been removed from his path however, and Scout decided to keep moving before the respawned demoman told his teammates where he was.
The runner carried on his way, trying to stay hidden and never remain stationary for too long, lest the BLU sniper get any ideas.
The only time he paused was when the enemy engineer came crashing off a nearby rooftop (how did he even get up there), and landed in a spread eagle position, face first on the ground. Scout had enough time to divert his path and split the man's skull open with his bat before continuing his mission.
The unfortunate engineer was his first kill, as he had spent most of the match stealing and running from the BLU team, but they only needed one more capture to win. So even though he wanted to stop and fight, the runner kept going.
Scout turned a corner, and then stopped dead in his tracks when he nearly ran smack into the BLU heavy/medic duo, who it appeared had just finished off Engineer.
He tried to backtrack, but the medic had already spotted him. "He haz the intelligence!" The Austrian man shouted, catching the attention of his teammate.
The massive man turned his attention towards Scout, a bloodthirsty smile on his face. "You stole wrong people's intelligence, leetle man."
Scout sucked in his breath through his teeth. "Yea, I'll pass. See ya guys!"
He turned to run away, only to have his path blocked by the BLU soldier, who had finally caught up with him.
"Aw, come on!" the runner complained.
The heavy cocked his minigun, making an extremely ominous noise.
Scout sighed angrily. With buildings on two sides, and strong attack classes on the other two, he was screwed. He still didn't take the briefcase off his back, they wouldn't spare him even if he did.
"This is going to hurt, isn't it?" he deadpanned.
The soldier laughed, with just a hint of mania in his voice. "Prepare to be relieved of duty, maggot!"
Even though he knew he would respawn, Scout didn't like to see the shots coming, so he decided to stare at the wall across from him, which was littered with graffiti.
Most of it appeared to be rainbow themed, which he could only assume was the work of a pyro, likely theirs considering how close he was to the RED base. Damn it, he'd come so close!
But the shots to end his mission never came, only a loud thump that caused Scout to look to his right.
The BLU heavy lay dead on the ground, the medic behind him managing to look both appalled and annoyed at the same time. A bullet hole was in the heavy's bald head, blood seeping out in a small trickle onto his gun, which he had collapsed onto.
Behind him, the soldier suddenly let out a cry of pain as a bullet pierced his arm, causing him to drop his rocket launcher. "That damn sniper!" The man shouted.
Realizing that Sniper couldn't get a clean shot with the man's helmet covering his head, Scout gripped his bat and charged at the wounded man, using an upswing to knock the helmet off.
The soldier appeared dazed, a very easy target, so Scout drew back to strike again, only to have blood sprayed onto his face as Sniper put a bullet through the soldier's brain. A quick glance behind told him the medic had met the same fate.
For a moment, Scout stood alone amongst the three bodies, his mind racing to catch up with the events that had just unfolded.
He wasn't dead, but he should have been dead, and he would have been if it weren't for Sniper. That was the second time he had helped him in the span of ten minutes, maybe even less.
All of the best targets must be coming to attack him, Scout reasoned, or the rest of the action was just too far away for Sniper to get a good shot. Still, it was annoying how he had barely contributed to the action, and instead just stood there while Sniper took the kills.
Taking a quick peek around the corner before darting back out, Scout shook off his negative thoughts and continued on his mission.
But when it happened a third time, the runner began to get angry. He had been charging forward, heading for the capture zone, which was now in sight, when the BLU pyro appeared to his left.
The pyromanic rushed towards him, making excited noises and brandishing their flamethrower. But before he could even get close, several shots came in quick succession, reducing the pyro to a bloody mess on the ground.
"Really, Snipes?" Scout muttered under his breath. He could have easily taken on the pyro one-on-one, at least he was fairly certain. He may have gotten a few burns, but it was nothing Medic couldn't fix. But Sniper seemed determined to eliminate any BLU that came close to him, without even giving them a chance to strike. Or Scout a chance to fight back.
It was infuriating.
Scout slowed his pace slightly as he approached the capture point, which was now only a couple dozen feet away. REDs victory was all but secure…that is, until Scout felt a heavy blow to his shoulder.
He whipped around to see the BLU scout winding up with his wooden bat to take another swing, and was barely able to grab his own and block the blow.
"This map ain't big enough for the two of us!" the other Scout crowed, taking a shot at Scout's legs.
Again, the runner managed to block him. "Why don't ya fuck off then?"
"Tell ya what, if ya give up the intell right now, I will! Deal?"
"I don't think so!" Scout went on the offensive, managing to land a hit on his double's side. The two were evenly matched, so neither was doing critical damage, but that hardly mattered to Scout.
He was close enough to the capture point that he only needed to incapacitate or even just stun the BLU scout, and then he would be home free. And it felt good to fight, the metal crashing against inferior wood, their harsh breathing and grunts as they grappled with each other filling his ears.
Plus, the two scouts were so active and agile in their fight, jumping and weaving around each other while slowly edging closer to the capture point, that there was no way for Sniper to intervene without the risk of hitting him.
This was Scout's moment, and he would claim RED's victory on his own terms-or so he thought.
Gathering momentum for a particularly high jump, Scout leapt into the air, swinging his bat back behind his head for a blow that would break the other scout's neck upon impact. The BLU seemed to realize that he was doomed, because he stopped moving to stare up as his double as gravity pulled Scout, grinning triumphantly, down towards his target.
And in that brief moment, where the BLU scout was stationary, Sniper blew his brains out.
Scout stumbled a little as he landed, unable to stop the follow through of his blow, which now hit nothing but air.
"Oh, come on!" he shouted angrily, but no one could hear him over the sounds of blasting and gunfire.
Fed up and angry, Scout forced himself to focus and sprinted the rest of the way to the capture point before another BLU showed up. Sniper had gotten six kills because of him, he didn't need anymore.
A moment later, The Administrator announced the RED team's victory, and the sounds of war slowly faded from the battlefield as both sides stopped trading blows to return to their bases.
But Scout remained on the capture point for a few more minutes, with the briefcase in his hands, and watched, with narrowed eyes, as a distant figure climbed down from his perch.
"We did good today, men." Soldier declared, settling into a chair in the recreation room off of the kitchen with a beer.
All of the mercs were sitting in various spots around the room, most with some type of alcohol to celebrate their victory. Pyro had chocolate milk, which they slurped noisily with a straw that led up under their mask.
Engineer took a swig of his own beer and agreed. "That there was some fine work fer'sure. Especially from you, son." He looked at Scout, who glanced up from the drink he had scarcely touched with a slightly surprised expression.
Demo, who had drunk even more than his usual amount of alcohol, was quick to agree with gusto. "Aye, lad, you captured their intelligence not once, b'twice!"
He slapped Scout hard on the back. "Ye came through fer us, laddie!"
Spy sniffed, swirling his expensive brandy in the crystal glass he kept hidden from the rest of the mercs, lest someone break it. "I would not say 'e won the ze match on his own. His kill count was practically nothzing."
"Why're you always looking at my stats, old man?" Scout snapped, his bad mood immediately resurfacing.
Spy brushed him off. "I look at everyone's statistics, it is part of my job to know about all of you, and whether or not you are effective in battle."
"Yeah? Well, you don't know me! You gave up the chance to know me 21 years ago, so don't fuckin' come at me now and act like you do!"
"Whoa there, little man, let's take a step back for a moment!" Engineer, of course. He was more of a father figure to him than Spy had ever been, but his attempts to pacify him only made Scout angrier.
Then, another voice joined the group. "Roo, calm down. Ya had a good match t'day, the spook's just mad that he didn't get to go invisible and carry the briefcase to the capture point like a coward." (A/N: I know you can't do this in game)
His words had the opposite effect he intended as the runner turned on him. "You're just as bad as him! What the hell was that today?"
Sniper looked from side to side, incredibly uncomfortable with the amount of eyes staring at him. "I…I don't know what you're talkin' about, mate. Did I do something wrong?"
"Did ya do something wrong? Are ya serious? Come on!" Scout grabbed the front of Sniper's shirt, dragging him out into the hallway and away from the rest of the team.
Once they were out of sight, there was an awkward silence, until Heavy began to laugh.
"Vhat is funny?" Medic asked, looking miffed at the disruption that had taken place.
"Leetle Scout reminds Heavy of angry wife." The Russian said with a chuckle. Noticing the questioning looks he was getting, he clarified. "I have no wife, of course, but my sisters are like this with their husbands occasionally, when they, how you say, fuck up."
"Anyone know what the sniper did?" Engineer asked. Everyone responded negatively, then paused when loud shouting came from down the hall, shouting that sounded very much like Scout.
Heavy laughed again. "What did Heavy say? The sniper fucked up."
Sniper was panicking internally as Scout dragged him out into the hallway, and down a little ways so that they couldn't be seen or heard.
His situation got even worse when the runner released his shirt and whirled around to face him, eyes blazing. The marksman knew he should be concerned about what exactly had ignited Scout's ire, especially since it seemed to be directed at him, but the younger man was so close that memories from the day before came rushing back.
'Alright, you can do this, just don't look at his body, especially not his crotch, don't think about whether or not he's wearing panties-no, stop, you're looking at his body, quick, look somewhere else! Look at his face, look at his lips, they look so soft-wait, no don't look at his lips. Look at his eyes, just his eyes, that's safe, right? Oh shite, his eyes are narrow, he looks really angry…' Sniper thought.
Scout, of course, noticed none of this.
"I'm gonna ask again, what the FUCK was that out there today?"
Sniper looked at him strangely. "You mean during the match?"
"Yea the match, what were you DOING?"
"Roo, are ya feelin' alroight? Last I checked, I was dominating in today's match, and I helped ya a couple times, too. I don't remember doing anything that would get ya so worked up…"
"Helped me?" Scout was indignant. "Is that what ya thought ya were doing? You stole my kills!"
"Wut-" Was all Sniper could get out before the runner cut him off.
"I couldn't get within 10 feet of a BLU without them being taken out-BY YOU! Was there nothing else ya could have been doing?"
"I was doing my JOB." Sniper was starting to get a little angry himself. "You had the briefcase, you needed help, and I helped you."
"I DIDN'T need help." Scout said firmly. "I would have killed them if you'd given me a fucking chance!"
He stormed back towards the rec room, the idea of a drink suddenly much more appealing. But before crossing the threshold, he threw over his shoulder "Don't try an' 'help' me next time, ya got that?"
He headed back towards the table where his beer was sitting despondently, but he had unknowingly poked the bear, and a moment later heard Sniper say "What would you have done then?"
Scout turned to say something biting in retort, but Sniper was on a roll. "You had the heavy and medic on one side, and the soldier on the other, and you say you could have killed them? But when I looked through moy scope, you were just standin' there, about to let 'em kill ya! So what would you have done if I wasn't there, Scout?"
Scout stared at him, surprised by the hostile response. "Fuck you, I…would have figured somethin' out. And even if I didn't, I woulda come back, so what's the big deal?"
"We would have lost the briefcase, and maybe the match! Not everything is about you, y'know, you should stop thinkin' of yerself and start thinkin' about the team."
Engineer moved to rise from his chair, likely to intervene, but Medic shoved him back down. "Shh, I vant to hear this!" The physician muttered eagerly.
The builder looked at Heavy with a 'can you believe this guy' look on his face, but Heavy just shrugged. "Doktor likes drama, and this is closest thing we get to reality TV here. Leave men be for now."
Scout was shouting again. "Oh yea? Well then how about you actually help other people on the team rather than just following one guy an' sniping every BLU that gets close?"
When Sniper began to look guilty, Scout pushed further. "Yea, that's right, I know what you were up to! Ya ignored everyone else and just focused on me so that ya could make sure I didn't fuck anything up, ain't that right?"
"No, that-that wasn't-"
"I mean, I get why you killed the heavy, medic, and soldier-"
Demoman mouthed 'All three?' to Soldier with an impressed look on his face, which Scout saw, causing him to falter slightly.
"-but ya didn't need to kill the demo, or the pyro, or the other scout, I could've handled them! But YOU," he stabbed a finger at Sniper, "Didn't think that I could, so you killed them before I could get a chance!"
Scout was breathing hard by this point, the other mercs watching him with rapt attention. Even Spy seemed intrigued.
Sniper had reverted back to a deadly calm state, which Scout would've been concerned about if he'd been in a less tumultuous state of mind.
"Well? Ya got nothin' ta say?" Scout yelled at him.
Sniper crossed his arms. "Nobody taught ya much about gratitude, did they?"
"Wh-fuck you man, of course Ma did, but I-"
Sniper cut him off. "You're just proving my point. When someone does something for you, like helping ya out when ya are being targeted, you thank them, not assume they only did it cause they think ya can't do it yerself. Which I didn't, by th'way."
He looked into Scout's blue eyes, staring him down. "Think ya can try that, mate?"
Scout wasn't about to back down either. "I'm not gonna thank you, you fuckin' undermined me out there!"
To everyone's surprise, the Australian shrugged one shoulder and turned away from Scout, loping across the room.
"Where're ya going?" Scout demanded, following after him.
"If you aren't going to be polite, it looks like I'll have to teach ya some manners." was all he got in response.
"How are ya planning to do that, wombat?"
Sniper flipped open a panel next to the exterior door, giving Scout a challenging look. "Like this." His hand reached inside to flip a switch.
Nothing happened.
"Erm…I probably should have timed that better…" Sniper muttered, looking embarrassed.
Scout opened his mouth to ridicule him, but before he could say anything, all of the lights went out.
"There we go…" Sniper's voice came from his left. "Come 'ere you ungrateful little varmit…"
"He tripped the breaker!" Engineer called out from somewhere in the darkness.
Scout, virtually blind due to the pitch darkness of the New Mexico night, stumbled backwards several steps. The edge of the table helped guide him towards the hallway, which he had almost reached when he heard an angry shout.
"Unhand me, bushman! The boy is over zere!"
"Sorry, Spoi." he could hear Sniper's voice coming closer. Putting his hands out in front of him, the runner walked quickly towards where he hoped the exit was.
A sharp pain to his left foot told him he was slightly off the mark, and he shuffled to the right to slip through the door. A little "Ow…" left his lips, which Sniper's sharp hearing immediately picked up on.
"There ya are…" Scout heard the rough voice from behind him and felt a small shiver run through his body.
He couldn't see Sniper, but the knowledge that the sharpshooter was locked onto him sent a little thrill through him that all but killed his anger.
His body snapped into fight or flight mode, and Scout knew his best chance was to try to escape, and then find somewhere to hide until the lights came back on.
Walking out into the hallway, the runner walked straight forwards until his hands bumped into the wall, then turned right, his left hand trailing along the wall.
This is how he continued, jogging blindly through the pitch dark hallways with his hand firmly planted on the left wall. He was lucky the base wasn't laid out in a circular pattern, Scout thought, or else he could end up right back where he had started.
A very faint light ahead drew Scout's attention, and he looked up to see thin skylights lining the upper walls of…wherever he had walked into. Judging by the faint shapes he could make out, he was in the warehouse where larger items were stored, just off the garage.
Realizing that if he could make out the room's contents, someone entering behind him could probably pick out HIS silhouette, Scout moved further into the room, searching for a place to hide.
And just in time too, as a shadowy figure, tall and thin, entered the room a minute later.
"Where are you, Bun?" Sniper's deep voice was calm and taunting, bereft of the concern he'd shown when Scout had been hiding in the trunk.
Scout, who hadn't had time to find a secure place to hide, took a nearby box into his hands, testing its weight gingerly.
"Why do ya call me that?" he asked in a low voice, hoping that would make it harder for Sniper to pinpoint his location. But just in case, he lobbed the box so that it hit the ground noisily far away from him.
Sniper took the bait, chuckling a little. "Same reason I call you Roo, sometimes ya remind me of a bunny the way you're always runnin' around and jumping between buildings."
He reached the box that Scout had thrown and seemed to be scanning the area as Scout crept in the opposite direction, holding his breath.
"And roight now, you're acting like a skittish little bunny, runnin' and hidin' from me. Bet your little heart is pounding."
Scout frowned, annoyed by the accuracy of that statement. His heart was racing, but he was edging his way around the room, attempting to get back into the hallway. With luck, he could slip out of the warehouse without Sniper ever realizing he had left.
The room was virtually silent as the runner continued to slink around boxes, hugging the outer wall as much as he could. His view of Sniper's silhouette was now totally obstructed, but as far as he could tell, the man was still across the room, and no immediate threat.
That is, until Scout's shoulder knocked against something solid. A wall, maybe, he thought, stretching out a hand to try to get his bearings. If he had run into a wall, then he must not be facing towards the door, and may even have been heading in the completely wrong direction.
But as his hand stretched out, it brushed not against cold metal, concrete, or even cardboard, but instead something warm, and slightly soft to the touch.
Confused now, Scout moved closer to investigate further. He reached out with both hands now, feeling what was certainly cloth between his fingers. His bandages prevented some of his tactile sense from reaching its full potential, but he could tell that the cloth was warmed by something-or someone.
But the cloth covered…something remained completely still, so Scout continued to blindly explore. He needed to get by the warm obstacle to escape, after all.
His hands pressed in a little more roughly, and he could feel what he was fairly certain were muscles under what he guessed was a shirt. Instead of moving his hands vertically, Scout's hands separated to spread laterally to see how much of his path the person was blocking.
And by now, Scout was certain that it was a person standing in his way, a man, and as his hands left the cloth and began to run over leather, he knew there was only one person it could be.
But Sniper hadn't moved yet, and hadn't said a word, which hardly made sense to the runner. Was this a decoy, some kind of mannequin warmed with heated blankets or some shit just to stall Scout? Would Sniper even plan that far ahead to have something like this?
Yes, he would, Scout decided, letting his hands start to course down the arms he could feel, gently squeezing the lean muscle. Oh yea, this was definitely the real deal. But it wouldn't hurt to check to see if Sniper's hands were empty before he made his escape. The man didn't seem in any hurry to pounce on him, after all.
His fingers touched the back of Sniper's hands, and feeling that both were curled into fists, worked his own smaller fingers in until the Australian opened his hands. Both were empty.
Scout was about to pull away, but the hands he was still holding tightened on him, just a little. It wasn't a grip, he could still pull back, but things felt…different now. Like their hands were connected rather than Scout just supporting Sniper's.
With a slowness that surprised himself, the runner pulled his hands free and stepped back. He needed to get away.
In front of him, Sniper let out a shaky breath. "Christ Roo, I don't know if that counts as a thank you, but you're off to a good start."
Scout started to step backwards when he heard the marksman's voice coming closer. "Tell ya what, c'mere and give me a hug, and we'll call it even."
"Ya wouldn't let me go if I did that." Scout attempted to sound teasing, but his voice came out hesitant, and in a softer tone than he intended.
"I moight." Sniper answered, even though they both knew it wasn't true. "Now, where'd ya go?"
A bright light clicked on, directly in Scout's face. "AAGHH!" he shouted, jumping 4 feet backwards, and managing to crash into a stack of large containers, bouncing right off and sprawling on the floor.
Sniper laughed huskily. "That couldn't have gone any better if I'd planned it. Ya alroight there, Bun?"
The runner groaned. "Ya scared the shit outta me!" He glowered at the flashlight Sniper was holding, which prevented him from seeing the man's face. "Where'd ya even get that?"
"Borrowed it from Truckie." Sniper paused. "Hope he doesn't need it to turn the lights back on."
Scout straightened up to a seated position, rubbing the arm he'd landed on. "Makin' the poor guy poke around in the dark? Real classy, Snipes."
"He's smart, he'll figure it out. As for you," the flashlight beam dropped dramatically as Sniper dropped to a kneeling position in front of Scout. "You best keep lying down." w/images/9/9f/Sniper_
Scout nearly had the wind knocked out of his lungs as Sniper deposited the flashlight near them, without turning it off, and shoved him back to the ground. Before the runner could recover, Sniper climbed on top of him, effectively caging Scout against the ground.
Scout still found enough room to manoeuvre underneath the marksman's body, and tried to pull himself free by wrenching himself backwards. But Sniper settled his weight down onto Scout's legs, hindering his ability to get away.
"Hold still, ya twitchy little varmit!" Sniper growled, reaching for Scout's hands. w/images/f/f8/Sniper_
He caught one wrist, but Scout refused to go down without a fight and continued to shove at his chest with his free hand, attempting to knock Sniper off balance.
He wiggled so violently that the only reason Sniper was able to catch him was because the runner's hand missed his chest and flew into his armpit, where Sniper immediately clamped his arm down.
It was awkward, but he managed to catch hold of Scout's bicep, then his elbow, and finally his wrist, while the younger man squirmed and shouted obscenities at him.
Scout only fell silent when both of his wrists hit the ground, shackled by Sniper's calloused hands.
"Gotcha." the sharpshooter muttered.
A cold pit settled into Scout's belly. He was trying to push his wrists against Sniper's hands, but he had the advantage of gravity pulling his weight down, and would not budge. Scout couldn't see a way out for himself.
At some point during the scuffle, Sniper's sunglasses had come off, or maybe he had removed them as soon as the lights went out, Scout couldn't be sure. But even in the very dim light, he could see Sniper's grey eyes gazing down at him.
There was no clear expression on Sniper's face, or maybe Scout just couldn't see it, but the intensity of his stare was causing something else to stir inside of him alongside the fear of being trapped. He had to get Sniper to stop looking at him like that.
"S-snipes, I-" he stopped, hating how desperate he sounded.
"It's alroight luv." Sniper muttered, eyes never wavering. "Eight more seconds and it's all over."
Eight seconds? He was already counting down? Scout, being who he was, refused to admit defeat, and searched his brain wildly for a solution as the seconds ticked down.
His eyes flicked to Sniper's face, and when his frantic mind offered a solution, he took it, without considering the consequences.
Using his abdominal strength, Scout hauled himself up a little, and kissed Sniper.
It was a brief kiss, the angle wasn't at all comfortable for his neck or ab muscles, but the warm touch of lips achieved what he wanted. When he pulled away to flop back down, Sniper was completely frozen, looking nonplussed.
Scout used this momentary distraction to fight like hell, eager to escape before Sniper inevitably blew up at him.
At first, this strategy worked and he managed to wriggle his way out from under the marksman. But as he was getting to his feet, Sniper seemed to wake from his stupor and tried to grab him.
"Ya can't just do something like that an' run away!" he shouted, narrowly missing Scout's ankle with one hand.
"That wasn't ten seconds!" Scout shouted in response, already heading for whichever exit would get him the hell out of there.
He was about to enter the hallway once again, when he slammed straight into someone shorter than him, stopping him in his tracks.
"Oh shit, sorry Miss P!"
Miss Pauling, to her credit, had remained on her feet. While straightening her glasses, she answered. "Hey Scout. What are you doing?"
Before he could answer, the petite woman shook her head. "Nevermind, carry on. I can't chat right now, I'm looking for Sniper, have you seen him?"
"I'm roight here." Scout jumped. He still hadn't gotten used to how quietly Sniper could move when he wanted to.
"Good!" Miss Pauling said in a hurried tone, oblivious to the pointed way Sniper was looking at Scout, who was looking anywhere but at him. "Scout, I need you to go. WE," she gestured at Sniper, "Need to have a chat."
Scout was already walking away. "Yea, yea okay. See ya, Miss P, I'll talk to ya later, Snipes."
"You'd better." Sniper all but growled at him. Scout's body shivered again as he passed around the corner, tucking himself out of the pair's sight.
It wasn't that he was jealous that Miss Pauling was talking to Sniper, that ship had sailed long ago, but he still wanted to hear what was going on. Maybe Snipes would tell Miss Pauling about some of his other plans to catch Scout? It would help to have advance notice since that day had been such a close call…literally.
Peeking back around the corner, Scout's eyes were suddenly assaulted by the lights coming back on. He ducked back into hiding just in case either of them spotted him, but his curiosity got the better of him when he heard scolding, and he poked his head back out.
Watching Miss Pauling scold anyone was almost always humorous, but it was particularly funny with Sniper, because of how he towered over Miss Pauling. But the Administrator's assistant seemed to be reading him the riot act; Scout picked up 'irresponsible', 'unprofessional', 'the BLU team could have attacked you', and 'we expect more from you'.
Sniper's vocabulary seemed to have been reduced to "Yes, Ma'am" and "No, Ma'am", while his posture resembled that of a sulky teenager. Scout had to struggle not to laugh, Sniper was actually kind of cute.
As he withdrew back around the corner, the runner was thankful that the lights hadn't come back on while he was with Miss Pauling, or else she would have noticed his red cheeks.
Scout beat a hasty retreat back towards his room before anyone else saw him, though he also didn't want to still be standing in the hall when Miss Pauling let Sniper go.
As soon as he reached his room, the runner locked the door and flopped face first onto his bed, not even bothering to remove his shoes. After a moment he flipped over, and found himself in the same position he had been on the warehouse floor.
He could still feel Sniper's body looming over his, and the heat that had lingered between them where their skin touched. He recalled the feeling of touching his lips against the sharpshooters, and the faint taste of coffee that had come with it.
He found himself wanting to go find Sniper, and kiss him again, longer this time. Much longer than a few seconds, so he could really taste him thoroughly.
Scout's eyes flickered to the locked door, and he had the sudden realization that if Sniper was there, and wanted to get on top of him on the bed, Scout would let him in a heartbeat.
His hand had been wandering down his body, tracing at the waistband of his pants when the runner caught himself. Pulling his hands up to cover his face, Scout made a noise of frustration.
"Damn it, Snipes." he muttered. "What are ya doing ta me?"
I am trying to be unique, but sometimes I just crave a little cheesy romanticness, and I hope you guys don't mind. That being said, Scout is a strong, independent man, who don't need no, well, man, so he took Sniper's help as an insult, even though Sniper's train of thought was basically "Scout's a cute piece of ass, I should try to keep that ass intact." And he's trying to be a good potential bf, but shhh, we aren't there yet. Thanks so much for reading, there should be another chapter this week!
