Chapter 1 - Sparks

"YOU FAILED!"

Yet another fight that they lost. They had been on a losing streak as of late and were struggling to gain ground again. Blu team had been whooping their asses and it irritated the entirety of Red team. The men just wanted to get back to home base and stay there, the pure frustration of loss after loss having taken it's toll on them. One by one, the men piled into the Red team truck, the space quickly becoming quite cramped. The only merc not accounted for was the man they called Sniper. All of them had a code name, to keep their identities hidden from the enemy team. The first to notice Sniper's absence was their team doctor, simply called Medic. Before Soldier and Demoman closed the rear door, Medic spoke up and pointed out that Sniper wasn't with them. Scout simply stated that they couldn't wait for him, that the entire team just wanted to get back to headquarters and crash. Medic, not wanting to argue, quieted down and allowed the two men to close the door. The truck started up and off they went back to their haven. Medic was still worried about Sniper but he didn't want to irritate the already frustrated men around him. The tension in the truck was thick as none of the men spoke to each other, they were simply too upset at the losses they suffered. Pulling into their base, the truck parked and the mercs started to file out of it. Most simply headed for the showers minus Medic whom had caught sight of something that both confused and relieved him. Sitting just outside the walls of the base was Sniper's camper and sitting on the step of it was the sharp shooter himself, cleaning his rifle.

How had he managed to get back before them? Was his old camper somehow faster then the team truck? Or had he left earlier then them? Though he wanted to go over and ask his many questions, his introversion told him to just leave the man alone. His legs obliged his insecurity and started to head into the base to join the other men in the showers.

The scruffy Aussie had watched the truck roll in. He had left way before the others. Most of his equipment had already been stored in his camper, due in part that he hadn't bothered taking them out of his camper in the first place. Despite knowing that his team wouldn't touch his stuff, Sniper simply disliked sharing a space with others and the respawn room was no exception to that fact. He'd been in the middle of cleaning his rifle when he had spotted, from the edge of his vision, a lingering body. He couldn't see the figure very clearly but judging by all the white he saw, he assumed it was the doctor. Why he had lingered was a mystery to him but he really didn't care. He was glad Medic hadn't come over, he had already started to feel anxious when the truck showed up. Any sort of social interaction would have ruined his day further. Upon polishing off his rifle, the lanky man stood and retreated inside his camper to store his weapon. With a quiet gurgle from his stomach, he growled to himself. He'd long since run out of propane for his camper's stove top and that only meant one thing for him. He had to go into the main base and get something from the mess hall. He hung his hat up before tossing on a red hoodie and flipping the hood up, reluctantly lurking out of his mobile home and into the base.

As he stalked the halls, he hoped that there wouldn't be anyone around for a while. Stepping into the mess hall, his hopes were crushed. There sat Scout, Soldier and Medic, their skin and hair still damp from the showers. Averting his gaze, he headed for the kitchen for some food, wishing desperately that none of them noticed him.

"Yo! Sniper!" The Bostonian accent pierced the loner's ears like a bullet through his brain. So much for sneaking on by without being noticed. "Get yer lanky ass ovah here!"

"How 'bout no?" Sniper returned before resuming his movement forward.

A hand gripping his arm made him stop again. He turned his head and glared at the young man who'd grabbed him. Scout shot him a glare in return, despite being much shorter than the Australian. That was always one thing he admired about the young American, He wasn't afraid to take on men much larger than himself, no matter how stupid it really was.

"Yer always in that camper of yours. Ya should at least try to spend sometime wit' th' rest of us. Maybe then, we'd work bedda as a team."

"I don't need no team lookin' aftah meh. I can look aftah mah self." He shrugged the younger man off his arm before skulking into the kitchen.

Scout huffed. "Yeh? Well, we don't need ya! Ya fuckin' creep!" He yelled back, returning to the others as more mercs streamed into the mess hall.

Sniper flicked on the coffee maker and opened the cupboards, grabbing a loaf of bread to make a sandwich. His back bristled as he heard someone enter the kitchen. The heavy foot steps suggested it was Heavy. He quickly grabbed a couple slices of bread before offering the rest of the loaf to the large Russian, whom happily took it so he could make his own sandwich. Sniper watched from his peripherals as the other walked to the fridge and took out some meat and vegetables, he wasn't one for complex sandwiches, all he needed was jelly and bread, which he grabbed before the fridge door closed. Once his sandwich was done and he poured himself a cup of black coffee, he left the kitchen and slunk through the mess hall and out the door, taking his sandwich and coffee away like a thieving racoon stealing cat food. Only when he was out of the mess hall did he take a bite from his quick meal. All the social interaction he'd dealt with had boosted his anxiety and now that he was alone he felt comfortable enough to eat. Though after he swallowed the first bite, he felt a tapping on his shoulder. Instantly, his anxiety shot up again, but that didn't stop him from turning to look at whomever had followed him. It was Medic.

"Whot'd'ya want, Medic?" He huffed.

"Ah... Vell, I just vanted to remind you that zhere'll be a team check up soon. It vill be alphabetical as usual but I figured I should remind you of it ahead of time so you don't miss it." The slightly shorter man stated, his hands interlocked in front of his chest.

"Ah, roight. I'll be there."

"Ah good, I vill see you tomorrow zhen. Auf wiedersehen, Herr Sniper." With that, Medic left back down the hall toward the mess hall.

"Team check up... bloody lovely..." the Australian grumbled before leaving the base and returning to his camper to finish off his sandwich and coffee.

On the walk back to the mess hall, the German took many deep breaths. His own anxiety had grown inside his chest. He needed a moment to breath and recharge his social battery, hence why he had followed Sniper out of the mess hall. It helps that he had an excuse to follow him. He would have hated to seem like a stalker if he had left without reason to. He stopped just out of sight from the others and took one last breath before stepping into the mess hall and rejoining everyone else.

"Doctor talk to Sniper?" Heavy asked, a large pile of sandwiches in front of him.

"Ja. He said he vill not miss tomorrow's check up."

"There's a check up tomorrah?" Came the slurred words of Demoman.

"Herr Demo, you didn't forget about it, did you?" Medic asked a little frustrated.

"I mightah."

With a sigh, Medic lifted his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand. "Please try not to miss it, Demoman."

The night was colder than usual, it didn't help that he slept in poorly insulated camper truck. Sniper found himself seeking more blankets than usual to try and combat the cold, though it seemed not to matter at all. He groaned as he sat up in the uncomfortable bed and tossed on a pair of pants and his hoodie, deciding to skip the shirt entirely. At this time of night, the others should already be asleep in their warm bunks. Surely he was safe to wander the base without worrying about someone else showing up. He slipped on a pair of slippers and shuffled into the base. He really only used two or three rooms in the base itself. The mess hall, the bathroom and showers. Very rarely would he need to go to the medical office. He stepped into the door way of the mess hall and looked around. Empty, as expected. Though there was a scent lingering in the room, a scent that tempted him in further. He wandered to the kitchen and spotted the source of the scent. It was Medic. He appeared to be making something in the oven. It smelled somewhat fruity and sweet. A pie or something, maybe? Before he could clear his throat to get the other's attention, Medic looked up from the cutting board where he was cutting up an apple and flinched visibly at the sight of Sniper.

"Mein Gott!" He yelped, placing a hand over his chest in surprise. "Herr Sniper, you startled me."

"Ah, sorry, mate. Just poppin' in ta escape tha cold." Sniper apologized as he walked into the kitchen further. "Whot'cha makin'?"

"Oh, nozhing special. Just some mixed fruit pies for zhe team, to try to lighten zheir moods. You know, 'cause of zhe losses we've suffered." Medic stated, watching Sniper as he moved around the prep table.

"Well, that's awful kind a ya, mate. 'm sure they'll loike 'em. Plannin' ta give 'em out aftah tha check ups?"

"Of course. Sort of like a revard for tolerating zhe check up, as vell." Medic returned to cutting the apple on the prep table.

Sniper took this moment to quickly inspect the doctor. He was wearing a long sleeve white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He wore dark red pants and red fuzzy slippers. It seemed strange to him that even in the middle of the night, Medic seemed to dress so formally.

"Apple slice?" the voice broke him from his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Do you vant an apple slice, Herr Sniper?"

"Ah, sure." He reached out and accepted the offered slice of apple, his fingers gently brushing against Medic's for a moment. The lightness of the contact was so different than he was use to, it sent a slight shiver up his back. He quickly pulled away, nodded to Medic as a thanks and took a bite of the apple slice. He looked away as he crunched the apple in his mouth. From the corner of his vision he could see a slight dusting of pink on Medics face, which made him a little confused. A sharp buzzing startled both him and the doctor as they both looked at an egg timer on the counter top.

"Oh! Zheir done!" The German stopped the egg timer and slipped on some oven gloves before opening the oven and pulling the golden brown pies out to allow them to cool. The scent of the pies became intense and very tantalizing, it made Sniper's mouth water.

"Those smell roight good, doctah. Supposen ya won't let me have a wee taste until my check up is done, roight?" He teased.

"You've got that right, Herr Sniper. You'll just have to vait until your check up is done." The shorter man said, puffing his chest out proudly.

With a quick thought, the idea to tease the doctor further came to him. Intentionally lowering his voice, Sniper whispered, "Ya sure I can't tempt ya to allow even th' smallest smackeral of pie?" The reaction he got from the medic took him by surprise. A once faint blush darkened to a deep red and icy blue eyes had widened. "Ah." It was his turn to blush, partially from embarrassment. "I'm jus' pullin' yer leg, doc." He said quickly. "I'm a patient man, I can wait." To try to ease the awkwardness, he took a few steps away.

"Ah, it's quite alright, Herr Sniper." Came the shy response from the flushed doctor.

Still feeling the embarrassment, Sniper flipped his hood up over his head to attempt to hide his reddened face. He finished off the apple slice he'd been given and started to make his way back out of the kitchen. "I'll see ya latah, doc. For th' check up." He quickly left the kitchen and mess hall.

"Ah... ja, see you zhen..." Came the unheard reply.

The songs of the birds greeted Sniper as she stepped out of his camper, stretching his limbs and back. He'd barely gotten any sleep the night prior when he returned to his camper. The embarrassing and awkward interaction with Medic the previous night didn't help either. He hadn't bothered to remove the clothing he had tossed on before, having only taken his slippers off to put his usual boots on. Taking a deep breath, the thin man started on the long walk toward the medical ward. As he walked he was soon joined by the other men as they slowly started to wake and leave their room. Once there were four other men following him, he lifted his hood and tried to pretend they weren't there. They all piled into the waiting room where Medic stood waiting for them, still wearing the pants and shirt from the previous night but had changed out his fuzzy slippers for his boots.

"Zhank you all for showing up on time. Now, I don't vish zhis to take too long so I'll just get started. Herr Demoman, please come in." Medic spoke in a chipper tone as he led the Scottsman into his examination room.

The remaining men got comfortable, sitting on the provided benches and waiting for their turns. Sniper did not sit, instead choosing to lean against the wall nearest the door and away from the others. It wasn't long before Demoman came back out with a slice of pie in his hands. The pie caught everyone's attention, except Sniper who knew about it. Suddenly the mood of the room changed from dread to excitement. One by one, the men were called in for their check ups, each leaving with a slice of pie and a big smile on their faces. Once Scout left, Sniper stood straight, expecting to be called next but when Soldier was called instead of him, it brought a wave of confusion to the Aussie. Medic had said it was going to be alphabetical. He hoped he wasn't being saved for last for any bad reason. Once the waiting room was empty, Medic finally called Sniper in. He got up off the wall again and slunk into the examination room, seating himself on the examination table as usual.

"Thought ya said alphabetical, doc." He commented.

"It vas. I just vanted to talk to you longer zhan zhe others."

"Nothin' negative, I hope."

"Oh, of course not." Medic grabbed a stethoscope and slightly unzipped Sniper's hoodie, blushing faintly when he saw that he wasn't wearing a shirt under it. He pressed the cold receiver to the taller man't chest and checked his heart.

"Is it 'bout last noight? I was just teasin' ya, mate."

"Oh I know zhat, Herr Sniper." He checked a box on a slip of paper on a clip board before grabbing a small rubber mallet and tapping the other man's knees.

"If you were worried I'd tell tha others 'bout the pies, you didn't need ta worry."

"Oh, I knew you vouldn't tell zhem." Another check in another box. He strapped a blood pressure machine to Sniper's arm and flipped a switch on it, waiting for it to inflate.

"Doc, if it's not 'bout all that, whot'd ya wanna talk 'bout?"

Medic marked the paper again and removed the bag from Sniper's arm, setting it aside. He looked up at the other man, at first in the eyes, then everywhere else on his face. "I know about your anxiety, Sniper. You don't hide it very vell."

Sniper was surprised at first but then he turned his head away. "Not tryin' ta hide it, mate. It's jus' how I am."

"It can be fixed zhough."

"Nah it can't. I've dealt wit' it mah whole loife. It's why I'm so good at mah work. Bein' alone is my profession now." Sniper slipped off the table and zipped up his hoodie once more.

"If zhat's zhe case zhen you bring your vork back to base vhen you should be off duty."

Sniper glared at Medic and snarled. "Whot's it mattah? The othehs don't loike me any way? It won't make a bloody difference if I contin-ya ta distance myself or not." He started to walk for the door to leave. "I've got shit ta do. Keep yer pie, give it ta fucking Heavy or somthin'." With that he left the examination room.

As the door closed behind the lanky man, Medic let out a sigh. "I just vanted to help, Herr Sniper. I know how it feels to deal with vith a low social battery."

Later that day, Medic found himself having to haul some expired supplies out to the base's dumpster. Using a large cart he had, he piled the useless supplies onto it and pushed it forward. The stack was too large for him to simply look forward so he had to look out the sides and yell ahead that he was coming through so the others would move out of his way. He wheeled the cart outside, pausing so he could admire the expansive, clear blue sky over his head. Resuming on his walk to the dumpster, he caught sight of Sniper's camper van. The owner of said van wasn't outside so the doctor assumed he was inside, doing whatever he did when he was alone. It was a long task to toss the expired supplies into the dumpster, Medic writing down exactly what he needed to order to replace each supply. It took the rest of the day and the rest of the sun light to complete this long task. How had he managed to allow so much to expire and build up? The last bottle of something he grabbed he couldn't read because it was too dark.

"Agh... Vhat does zhis label say..." He grumbled to himself.

With a soft click-click, a light came on from just over his shoulder, startling the rather skittish doctor and making him look backward toward the source of the light. It was Sniper with a small flashlight.

"Herr Sniper, danke."

"Hard ta read at noight." Came the cold reply.

"It vasn't part of my plan to be out here for zhat long. It took longer zhan I expected." Medic commented as he wrote down the name on the label onto his list before tossing the bottle into the dumpster.

"I imagine tha othehs 'ave already eaten dinnah at this point. Come ta mah camper, I'll scrounge somethin' up fer ya ta eat."

Medic blushed faintly, luckily it was hidden by both the darkness of night and the washing light of the LED flashlight. "Ah, danke, Herr Sniper. I vould greatly appreciate zhat."

The two men walked over to the old camper, the light inside pouring out through the windows. Medic pushed the empty cart toward the camper and pushed it against the side of the vehicle so he could grab it on his way out. The Australian clicked the door open and turned off his flashlight as he stepped inside and waited for the German to follow after him. Once they were both inside, Sniper closed the door again to keep the cold out.

"Hope ya don't mind freezah food. Haven't had propane in this old van for 'bout a year er somethin'." He grabbed a TV dinner from the freezer and ripped open the box. Checking the instructions on the back, he cut the plastic on top and placed the dinner in the barely functioning microwave. "Ya can sit at th' table there." He pointed to a wall mounted table with two booth style chairs on either side of it.

Medic nodded to Sniper and sat in one of the chairs. He got the chance to look around the camper a bit. It was rather small, he had no doubt that even Engineer, the shortest of the team, would struggle to maneuver around the living space of the van. The bed in particular made the doctor uncomfortable just looking at it. Placed above the van's cab with a metal ladder leading up to it, the space looked like it would just barely fit an average sized man. He found it hard to believe that the tall Aussie could fit up there without dangling his legs off the edge. He imagined that's why Sniper's posture was so poor, having to crawl in and out of such a cramped bed couldn't have been very comfortable or healthy. The beeping of the microwave drew Medic's attention from the inadequacy of the camper to the 'meal' that Sniper was making for him. The taller man pulled the frozen dinner from the microwave and, rather than simply hand it to Medic, pulled the prepared food from the plastic container onto a plate, making sure to put the dessert on a smaller separate plate. Once done, he placed the plates in front of the doctor before sitting across from him, a beer in his hand. His hood was up, as usual, blocking his eyes from view. The older German wished he could see the other's eyes, He'd never seen them without his aviators on.

"Danke, Herr Sniper. And danke for putting it on a plate. It vould have been awkward to eat out of the plastic tray." He thanked in a gentle voice.

Sniper took a sip from his beer and nodded. "Figured ya'd prefer it on a plate. Ya don't seem like the kind o' man to eat frozen food."

"You've got me, Herr Sniper. It isn't somezhing I am use to, but I appreciate zhe zhought." He started to eat the meal, doing his best to ignore how bland it tasted. "You realize zhat I now owe you a dinner in return, Herr Sniper. And I vill not take nein as a response."

Sniper let out a small, short-lived chuckle. "A'right. No point 'n arguin' wit' ya. Name a time and I'll be theh."

"Next veek, ten o'clock, after everyvone has gone to bed. I know how you don't like being avound zhe others."

"And you can guarantee they won't be theh? Thought somma them stayed up late."

"Only Scout und Engineer und you know zhat they barely have anyzhing to talk about vizh each other. Scout vill be in his room und Engineer vill be in his vorkshop, tinkering vizh his buildings. Zhe mess hall vill be completely vacant." Medic promised, finishing up his meal. He was glad it was done, though it won't stop him from making something when he returned inside to clear the bland flavours from his tongue.

"A'most sounds like ya had dis planned fer a while, doc."

"Nein, I just plan fast. A good doctor alvays has a plan prepared."

Another gulp of his beer before lifting his head and revealing Sniper's ocean blue eyes. "That 'cause people tend ta aim fer ya first?"

A faint blush dusted the doctor's cheeks. "Ah, j-ja." He stuttered, captivated by such deep blues in the other man's eyes. "If you cannot cook up quick plans in zhe field, you are as good as dead."

There was a lasting pause in their conversation, the two men averting their eyes from each other, their introversion making it difficult to look at the other. It wasn't long, though, before Medic got up from his seat and cleared his throat, drawing Sniper's attention toward him.

"Vell, I really should be heading back. I've got an early start tomorrow. It is my turn to make breakfast in zhe morning. Guten nacht, Herr Sniper." He said as he walked to the door and stepped outside. Once the door was closed behind him, the German let out a heavy sigh. "Mein Gott... Vhy is it so hard to talk to him?" He whispered to himself, grabbing the cart and pushing it back toward base.

Early the next morning, Medic was hard at work in the kitchen, making stacks upon stacks of pancakes, knowing full well that a few of the men will want seconds, maybe even thirds. When it came to sweeter food, he knew what he was doing, though he wasn't at all bad at savoury either. One by one the men piled up outside the kitchen, eagerly watching and waiting, their mouths salivating at the scent of the fresh hot cakes. When Medic noticed, he laughed and told them to get to their seats so he could bring out the plates for them. The mercs complied with no complaint and rushed to the mess hall dining table. After a moment, the doctor wheeled out the mountain of pancakes and set a plate in front of everyone. Once they all had a plate, they started grabbing the flapjacks and chowing down. Using this chance, the doctor did a head count. All were accounted for except for Sniper, as usual. He rolled his eyes and grabbed a plate, stacking a few pancakes onto it before returning to the kitchen to fetch a prepared mug of black coffee. Carrying the simple breakfast, the doctor walked outside and up to the camper door. With no hands free, he had to resort to yelling.

"HERR SNIPER!" He started. "Ich bin es, Medic! It is me, Medic!" He called in, instantly translating himself out of habit. "I brought you some breakfast and coffee!"

He watched the camper for a moment, watching as it rocked slightly, a sign that Sniper was moving inside. Soon the door opened and the sight that the doctor was beholden to reddened his cheeks visibly. Sniper, clearly having just gotten out of bed, was completely shirtless, his tanned yet scarred torso clearly visible in all it's detailed glory. It effectively flustered the old medic but he did his best to swallow it down and compose himself.

"Ah! Zhere you are! I vas vorried you vere going to ignore me and continue sleeping. You sure aren't a morning person, huh?" He teased, trying to distract from his burning hot cheeks.

"Mornin's aren't mah thing. If I'm gonna be awake in th' mornin', I'd stay up all night." The drowsy marksmen rubbed his eyes as they tried to adjust to the light outside. "Wotcha make, doc?"

"Pancakes! Figured it'd be a nice treat for everyvne. Und I made sure zhe coffee is how you like it."

"Thanks, mate. I'll be sure ta bring th' dishes back inside latah." Sniper accepted the coffee and plate from Medic.

"I really should be getting back to zhe others. Bis später, Herr Sniper! See you later!" With that said, Medic turned and returned inside.

Sniper watched him for a moment before taking a sip from his coffee. It tasted different, better. Certainly not the cheap instant garbage they had been given in supply crates. It was fresher and clearly roasted with care. Had Medic made a special request for higher quality coffee? The Australian wouldn't be surprised if he had, the old doctor did have more advanced and refined taste and bland, cheap foods and beverages were not a part of his palette. Still, he had brewed his specialty coffee just for him? It made the lone marksmen wonder why the shorter man was showing him so much favouritism. Then again, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth so he returned inside to eat his breakfast in peace.

Later in the day, the tall man stepped out of his camper with his dishes from that morning's breakfast in hand. He wasn't one to fall back on his word and since he had said that he would bring the dishes inside, he intended to honour that. He noticed Engineer and Soldier were outside where the short mechanic had built a new device. It was likely that Soldier wanted to know how it could be useful to them in battle as they seemed to be talking back and forth. Sniper would have eavesdropped but he really didn't care. From the look of the device, it looked like some kind of radio receiver. He was sure that when the Texan was ready, he would announce the new building to everyone. Yawning, the Australian made his way into the base and toward the mess hall. When he stepped inside, he wasn't surprised to see the other mercs there as well. He could hear the clanging of dishes in the kitchen, the sign that Medic was still washing up after breakfast. With an increased pace, he walked into the kitchen and placed the dishes next to the sink where the doctor stood, scrubbing the residue from the other plates.

"Oh! Danke, Herr Sniper. How vas it?" Medic asked, his voice chipper.

"It was great, mate. Coffee was bloody fantastic, too. Yer private stock, roight?"

The devious man giggled. "It might've been." He said coyly. "Maybe von day you'll get to learn vhere my stash is." The teasing tone, brought a faint blush to the Aussie's cheeks.

"That a promise, mate?"

All he got in response was a sly, knowing grin. He smirked in return, his long canines coming to bare. His keen blue eyes caught the pink dusting on the other man's cheeks and the quick dart of icy eyes down to his mouth, most likely catching sight of his teeth. Did the doctor like them or was he curious about them? He may never know.

"Foine. Keep yer secrets, doc." He said, his tone light-hearted. "See ya tonight fer dinnah." He waved a hand dismissively as he walked back to the door and left the kitchen.

Once Sniper was gone, Medic bit his bottom lip, thinking back on those canines. He hadn't been aware of them before, but he liked them a lot. As he went back to washing the dishes, he heard the familiar sound of a de-cloaking Spy, his eyes rolling as a groan escaped him.

"My, my. You two seem close, Monsieur." Cocky as usual, the Spy leaned against the counter next to Medic. "What was zhat about you two 'aving dinner tonight?"

"It vas none of your business, Herr Spy. So kindly butt out of it."

"Don't be like that, mon amie. Your secrets are safe with moi." The Spy always seemed to know how to get on Medic's nerves with his slick voice and teasing words. "So, 'ow long 'ave you two been... 'ow shall I say... compagnons de lit?"

Medic, knowing quite a bit of French, blushed hard at the insinuation the Frenchman made. He glared daggers at the spy. "Listen here, Jules." His words were loaded with venom, accented by the use of Spy's actual name. "Herr Sniper und I are not 'bedmates'. Ve are just friends having dinner vizh each ozher. Nozhing more."

Spy, taken aback by the other knowing his real name, stepped back from Medic. "Alright. Suit yourself. Continue to 'ide your emotions, it'll get out eventually, mon amie. So don't come crying to moi when word gets out. Au revoir à demain"

"See you tomorrow, as vell. And Herr Spy, keep you're filzhy nose out of mien business."

"As you wish, docteur"

The darkness of night consumed the base, the last night of peace before they return to the battle field. A lone figure entered the base and moved toward the mess hall. Within said hall, the German prepared the table, laying out a fresh table cloth with a decorative candle as the centre piece. It was the only light in the room, creating a calming atmosphere in the room and almost made it look like a private restaurant instead of a grimy mess hall. He had already prepared dinner and was waiting on Sniper to show up. Luckily for him, they wouldn't be eating cold food as the tall Australian stepped into the room, he was surprised at the effort that had been put into even just the preparation of the table.

"Crikey, Medic! Ya put so much work into this dinnah. I hardly think I'm worth tha effort." He said rubbing the back of his neck as he approached the table.

"Don't be ridiculous, Herr Sniper." the German put his hands on his hips and smirked at the other man. "You're worzh more zhen you zhink. Don't let vhat Scout said a couple of days ago get to you." He pulled a chair out for Sniper. "Now sit, I'll get dinner from zhe kitchen."

When Sniper sat, the older man pushed his chair in before hurrying back to the kitchen to grab the food. When he returned, he placed a place of delicious looking food in front of the taller man. The plate was loaded with tender chicken, lovingly blanketed with a rich chicken gravy, a side of mashed potatoes with a small hill of corn on top and a fluffy looking cornbread muffin. It looked so much better than the military rations that usually came in the supply crates. How many special requests had the good doctor made to get so many fresh ingredients?

"Blimey! This looks incredible."

Medic sat across from Sniper and smiled at his companion's surprise. "Only zhe best. You know how I hate zhose pre-packaged meals zhey give us. I had to order some fresh foods." He picked up a wine bottle he had already brought out and poured some into their glasses. "Now, let's eat before zhey get cold." Taking his utensils, Medic started to dig into his meal.

Sniper was awestruck. No one had done anything like this for him before. Dinner? Atmosphere? Wine? It all felt so... romantic. He wasn't sure what to think about it all. Though he didn't want to be rude and ask so he simply dug into the meal. The first bite was total bliss on his tongue. The flavours played so nicely. The rich gravy and tender, juicy chicken swirled with smokey sweetness. The salty potato mash danced with the sweet, buttery corn that added a nice chew to the affair. And the cornbread, lightly sweetened with a course but pleasurable texture practically melted on his tongue as he chewed. A sip from the wine brought about a pleasant bitterness that had been missing from the food with an added undertone of nuttiness that he wasn't expecting but loved greatly. It was the best meal he'd ever had. He was going to find it difficult to return to the military rations after that night.

"Medic, how'd ya learn ta cook loike this? This food... it's amazing!" Sniper complimented.

The seasoned doctor smiled warmly after a sip from his wine glass. "I vent to college in zhe culinary arts. I only stayed for half a year before changing focus to medicine."

"Why'd you change focus? Ya coulda been tha best chef in tha world with skill loike this."

Medic's face fell, his content, proud smile fading as he looked away from the other, his hand idly swirling his wine glass. "I changed focus because... zhe war happened." His once boisterous voice had fallen to a sombre volume.

"Oh..." Sniper said, his expression changing to match the other's. "Ahm sorry for-"

"Nein. It's not your fault, Herr Sniper. You vere curious, I can't fault you for asking." Medic cut in looking up at the younger man. "Besides, it's in zhe past now. I'm content vizh zhe pazh I followed down, helping zhe team is a great pleasure zhat I vouldn't trade for anyzhing. To simply be useful is enough."

"Is it though?"

Medic looked at Sniper with curious eyes. "Herr Sniper?"

"When things ah slow fer me in mah nest, I watch our team. Engie builds his buildin's. Demo plants his stickies. Scout patrols ahead. Everyone does their job with pride. But I've noticed how ya are out there. Skittish, always looking ovah yer shoulder, and when yer sent back ta respawn, ya trudge out like it's a chore ta keep goin'."

Medic's lips had parted open as he listened to Sniper talk, slow realization forming on his features. He quickly averted his eyes from him and pressed his lips together firmly.

"Don' hide it, Medic. Yer stressed when yer out theh fer too long. I can see it even now. Yer dreading tomorrah." the younger man leaned onto the table, closer to the doctor.

"You're right, Sniper. Zhe longer I'm out zhere, my stress gets more and more intense. But vhat am I to do about it? I can't just... abandon everyone. Zhey need me out zhere." He looked back up at Sniper.

The Aussie gave it a good hard think before coming up with an idea. "Ya can hide in mah nest when ya get too stressed. Ahm not far from the battlefield and ya can see out to tha othahs if ya hear they need ya."

"You'd let me hide in your nest, Herr Sniper?"

"O'course. We can have a password so I know it's you. Something like...Cornbread."

Medic gave a soft giggle. "Cornbread?" A wide smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah." Sniper chuckled. "Ya make excellent cornbread."

"Alright. It's a deal zhen." The doctor confirmed, a faint blush on his cheeks at the compliment. "Now, I should get started cleaning before zhe sun rises."

"I'll help ya out wit' that. I owe ya after such an incredible meal."

With a final giggle, the German nodded and started to collect the dishes.