Eyo! Decided to bring something back that I had meant to mention more in the previous story but had neglected to.

Sorry if this is a little boring but I feel like there should be down-times not filled with action and more character interaction.

Also, yes, this MAY have romance. But just like the previous story this is based upon, it will not be much and is pretty much just a stepping stone. Also, I will be continuing "Unconventional Corporeal" after I finish writing this one. :3


Tracy awoke to someone shaking her rather roughly. Her head pounded, a headache making it obvious just how much she had drank the night prior. Her eyes reluctantly opened and she winced at the light, greeted by the sight of the Sniper. She hadn't actually spoken to him yet personally, but she knew he was the one to bring out the water bottles a couple days ago.

He seemed about as enthused as she was.

"C'mon, I let you sleep until three. Need you to come with me and a few others to get groceries." He stated this gruffly, "My van's out back, get ready quick and get in."

The Thief blinked furiously and got up, rubbing the crick in her neck and wincing. Demoman must have left earlier, but he had been nice enough to cover her with a blanket.

Sniper left as she went to go grab a cup of coffee and a piece of toast, walking while trying not to spill the cup. It wasn't as hot as the previous days, with clouds blocking most of the sun. Still, it was uncomfortably warm and Tracy had to pull back her collar once or twice. Already present outside the van was the Spy and the Scout, bickering over what to buy.

"C'mon, I'm all out of cash and you know I NEED that stuff." Scout complained, stretching out his arms and waving.

"You can survive a week without that garbage." Spy had a list in his hands, going over what to buy. Tracy had heard the Spy was in charge of the little funds they were given for extra food, things like sweets and sodas and the like. She knew from others that he was notorious for denying almost every single request, only ever giving in to small demands.

The Bostonian stomped his feet. "You see how fast I am when I drink that stuff? I can dodge bullets!" He grunted, "S'not like your fancy shmancy cigarettes make you more invisible or something."

Spy didn't respond, instead turning towards the approaching Thief. "Ah, nice of you to finally join us. Since you helped win the last match, I suppose we can get one thing of your liking at the mall."

Scout immediately turned to her, trying his best to make puppy dog eyes at her. She frowned, already feeling her resistance crumbling. Spy slapped the Scout on the back of the head. "Enough of that. Get in."

He grunted and pouted, stepping into the van.

"Well?" Spy turned back to her.

"I honestly wouldn't know what to get." She paused, thinking. "How about I look around and see what they have?"

"Fine by me." Spy returned the list to one of his inner pockets, glaring at the camper van. "Ugh, hopefully this time the bushman cleaned this damn thing."

Spy grudgingly stepped in, Tracy taking a gulp of her coffee before going in after him. The van was reasonably big enough for them all, as long as they sat down. Scout was sitting at the little table across the small kitchen area, chewing gum and popping it audibly. Spy sat across from him, frowning at the boy before simultaneously putting out a cigarette and lighting one.

There was a ladder and above she could see a blanket hanging over the side and assumed that was the bed. There was a few small storage spaces, and jars everywhere that were filled with a mysterious yellow liquid. Tracy didn't really want to know what was in them.

Closing the door behind her, she looked around for a seat. She could squeeze in with the Scout or Spy, although she assumed the passenger seat up front was available.

"Why aren't one of you guys sitting up front?" She asked, taking the last gulp of her coffee before setting the cup in the sink. She hoped the Australian didn't mind.

"The bushman and I don't get along, but it is necessary I accompany him and whoever volunteers to the mall, otherwise they would buy everything and leave little for necessary supplies." The Spy gestured with his free hand.

"He says I talk too much." Scout replied petulantly, rolling his baseball up and down on the table, one hand supporting his head as he leaned.

"O...kay." She stepped past them and joined the Sniper up front. He glanced at her, his expression unreadable as she sat down beside him. Buckling her seatbelt, the engine revved to life. They went over a familiar bumpy gravel road until they finally hit blacktop.

The front cabin had very little. An ash tray, a little bobblehead, and a "#1 Sniper" coffee cup were sitting on the dash. Tracy finished her toasted, rubbing away the crumbs onto her trousers.

They were silent for awhile. Tracy didn't really know how to spark up a conversation. He seemed like the untalkative type, the kind to ignore and avoid discussion.

"So, uh..." God, why did she speak? The Sniper glanced over at her, keeping an eye firmly on the road. The road was clear, thank god. "Nice... van."

He stared before snorting out a laugh. She blushed in embarrassment, squirming in her seat and running her fingers over the burn marks in the leather.

"You're the first person to say so." He remarked, overlooking his turn signal as he went around a bend. She could sense he thought she was being sarcastic.

"No, really!" She put up her hands, "I mean, I've always wanted to own a RV and travel around. Better to steal stuff and get out quickly."

"Well, this girl is real old. Breaks down every couple of months or so."

"Why don't you ask Engineer-"

"My van, don't want anyone touchin' it. 'Sides, I can fix her up well enough. Don't need the hardhat poking through all my things or installing a damn sentry or somethin'." He rubbed his nose, glancing out the window. The left rear-view mirror was busted to hell, with only a few fragments of glass left to look back with.

"I see your point. I have no idea how to fix cars anyways." She shrugged.

In the distance she could see a small town. They passed by a welcome sign, "Welcome to Teufort! America's Gravel Basket! Population: 1280." Even from how far away they were, she could see a statue of a horse and a man hiding behind it. Right next to it appeared to be a dump caged in with with a wire fence.

It was a small town, with few people wandering the streets. Most seemed unaware and even grinned at their vechile as they passed.

"Ugh, this is creeping me out." Tracy shivered uncomfortably.

"That should be expected." The Spy appeared from behind them, startling her. "Don't drink the water here."

"Why not?"

"It's lead poisoned. Everyone here is about as insane as our Mr. Doe." He remarked, "On a related note, the Soldier has drank the water here for a long time."

"Ah, makes sense." She frowned as they passed by a library with a huge bonfire right next to it. The fire was high and burned quite brightly. "What the hell is happening over there?"

"Ah yes, the world's largest continuously burning book fire." Spy eyed the place with disdain as they went by.

"How in the hell has this town not gone down the shitter?" Tracy was now nervous to even step out of the van. "I mean, even more than it already has."

"Beats me." Sniper growled out as they finally turned into the mall's parking lot. "Just don't go talking to anyone and stick near us."

"Yeah, noted."

They unbuckled their seatbelts, the Sniper taking the key out of the ignition. Sniper flicked Scout's ear as he had been napping in his seat. They stepped out into the parking lot, the doors locked. They made their way to the mall, which was bustling with many people who all seemed just as blithe and unaware of their surroundings as Spy had made them out to be.

"Grocery is over here." Scout waved over their little party as they entered the store. A few teenagers were at the check out lanes, bored out of their minds and slumped over their registers. Hardly anyone looked up at them as they began to walk through the aisles.

The Scout had came along mostly to try and weasel out enough cash from Spy to buy his favored brand of soda called "BONK!", although had only been allowed to accompany them due to his speed to get in and out quickly. No one wanted to stay long. The Bostonian grabbed a cart and was walking beside the Spy as he grabbed some necessities like body wash and cheap sweets for the rest of the team.

Tracy walked beside the Sniper, who was mainly keeping an eye on the other customers. Aside from driving them there, he was a good eye.

She, on the other hand, was only there to help haul the bags into the van. Everyone else had refused, so she was the last one out.

"Do you get anything for yourself?" She asked the Sniper.

"Not usually. I buy my own things." Sniper replied as he watched the Spy squabble with the Scout who had grabbed a pack of soda.

"Ah." That seemed to be the end of the conversation, or at least what Tracy could think up at the top of her head to talk about. She had never really been good at conversing to people, and it had been a miracle she had any friends at all back at home. Well, had as in past-tense.

"C'mooooon!" Tracy turned her head as the Scout let out a loud whine. His face was red with anger and frustration. Spy looked to be at his wits end, almost completely ready to blow up at the younger man. Tracy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She liked Scout, he could be a funny guy, but he could be truly annoying at times. This was one of those times.

"Alright, geez!" She shouted as quietly as she could as to not bring any attention upon them. "Wouldja shut up? Just buy the damn stuff for him, Spy, please. He helped win the match yesterday too."

Scout beamed at her as the Spy rolled his eyes and begrudgingly allowed the Bostonian to put the soda in the cart. Spy was muttering something about the Scout being a brat, but the boy didn't seem to notice or was too ecstatic to care.

As they were heading towards the checkout lanes, something caught Tracy's eye. A small packet of chocolate French truffles. It was far too expensive for Tracy to ask the Spy for, and even then she assumed that Scout's soda was probably on her account. But even if she hadn't allowed the Scout to have his soda or if they had more money, she felt the urge.

She had this urge many times. To take and steal, regardless of what it was or if she could have just bought it. It was an irresistable temptation, tension building up in her that just had to be released.

She snatched one of the packages from its box and stuffed it into her trouser pocket. Thankfully, no one was around to witness her theft, but the fear of having been seen was overbearing.

She stiffly followed her team as they began unloading their cart. The employee at the register slowly scanned them and pushed them over to the bagging area, where an older woman meticulously and even more sluggishly bagged them. Sniper tapped his foot, checking his watch as the last of the groceries were sent down the line.

Eventually, and thankfully, the Spy handed over the money to pay and the Scout snatched the last of the bags from the old woman's hands and bum rushed the cart out of the grocer. The Frenchman politely took the receipt as quickly as possible before walking out at a quick pace.

"This is why we only do these trips once a month." Sniper mumbled as they followed Scout out the double doors. The Thief wasn't really listening, glancing back to the store once or twice to make sure no one was following or watching them (aside from the regularly crazies.)

Relief only came when they finally exited the mall. All the build up and fear that had accumulated faded away, leaving only excitement and guilt. This is why she got probation on her last job. Well, previous job.

They got back into the van, hauling their bags into the kitchenette as the Sniper got in an started the van, turning on the air conditioning. Just as the last bag was brought in by the Scout, and Tracy was about to step on, the Spy pulled her back.

"I saw what you did back there. Did you think no one would notice?" He lit a cigarette, the smoke temporarily clouding his expression. Tracy's went as red as their opposing team's uniform, her eyes going to the ground. Blacktop sure was interesting, wasn't it?

"I will not report you, since I really do not care one way or the other, but do please try to avoid getting caught." The Frenchman blew a cloud of smoke away, which was caught by the breeze. "I imagine Mademoiselle Pauling would not be thrilled to have more bodies to dispose of."

Tracy nodded, ashamed of herself. While she had a good idea of what was wrong with her, her mother had never had the funds to go seek a psychiatrist. They were too expensive, and she feared they would treat her with the wrong thing.

"Might I see what you procured?" Spy asked, and she reluctantly took out the package of sweets. An amused smile crossed his face, taking the package in his hands. "Hmph, French truffles? Theses wouldn't even come close to the genuine kind. Perhaps I could share some the next time I order from my home."

Thief looked up at the Spy, incredulous. Really, he would offer to do that for her? She gave him an apologetic smile. "That would be nice, thank you."

"If you two are done yapping, we got places to go and the cold stuff is gonna get hot if we don't get moving." The Bushman peered out from the door, offering Tracy a hand.

She gladly accepted, happy to find her team was getting more and more comfortable with her. Perhaps there was hope for her yet.


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TBC!