Todays 'cookie chaos' was requested by The Caramel Cat! Special thanks to Cuthalion97 for help with the prompt...and also everyone that helped me decide what SW eggnog is XD
Hopefully this makes up for the last thing I posted *shutter*
(Slim 'Tech' Sherman, I promise that I promise that I promise that I WILL get in the the Arc of Illness, just give me maybe one or two more chapters. When I do it, I want to make sure that nothing else is happening at that moment so I can focus on how crazy that's going to be XD
If trouble had been all their middle names, it wouldn't have even begun to describe that next morning. Of course, when it came to Wrecker, 'trouble' came in degrees. Hunter had just woken up, walking to the kitchen area as he pulled on a black sweat shirt he'd forgotten where he'd gotten it when he stopped...and groaned.
''Oh you've got to be kidding me.''
There was the table. And at that table, sat Wrecker in the off duty civvies he wore when they weren't on a mission. But also at that table, sat a box of cookies. And behind the box of cookies, sat Crosshair, smirking up at him. Tech was no where in sight.
Glancing between the hungry look with which Wrecker fervently watched the box and the supposedly oblivious smirk Crosshair had plastered on his face, the sergeant asked tiredly, ''Do I even want to know?''
''That depends. How willing are you to catch me if Wrecker goes haywire after a snack?
Eyes wide as he suddenly understood, he took a step forward.
''Don't you dare get Wrecker on a sugar high!" Hunter threatened.
Crosshair just lifted an eyebrow, holding out a cookie to Wrecker. He wiggled it just a bit, tauntingly then tossed it to him.
As Wrecker's first hysterics of sugar-high kicked in, and Crosshair gave him a 'so what are you going to do 'bout that' look, Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.
''...Oh no, Oh no, Oh no, no, no, no, I do not need to be dealing with this now'' he muttered, turning to grab a cup of caff.
''Oh this is only phase one. So, sarge,'' CH began casually, ''What did you dream of last night?''
''Of alien brains boiling in a witch's cauldron,'' Hunter replied dryly, sipping his caff slowly while he kept an eye on Wrecker.
He knew from experience that this could end badly...but then again, if he turned the situation to his advantage...possibly reminding him who got 'accidently' forgot his whistle back on the Negotiator...
At that moment, breaking his line of thought, Tech (also in plain clothes) walked in from his improvised lab more commonly known as the armory, head down as he stared at his datapad.
''Tech, what have I said about walking and reading at the same time?''
''Yes, mother.'' Tech rolled his eyes, clipping the pad to his belt.
''He has enough hair for it.'' Wrecker cried, completely ignoring the glare Hunter shot him. ''Hey Techie, how many men does it take to get a life?''
''How many men does it take for a man to go insane whilst trying to find one?'' he retorted.
''I ate a cookie,'' Wrecker continued, ''That's why I'm hyper!''
''And if you go anymore hyper, the planet may not have enough mass to stay in orbit with all your bouncing.''
Laughing hysterically, Wrecker slapped his thigh, a resounding smack that left Hunter's heightened hearing with ringing. ''You're so funny, Techie.''
''Yes,'' he agreed, completely deadpan, ''Hilarious.''
''My favorite cookie is sugar chocolate chip! A sugar cookie with chocolate chips, get it?''
''That explains a lot.''
Hunter had been only half paying attention to the conversation until now. ''Why is that?''
''Chocolate chips and sugar cookies are considered fun and high energy. I'd say that fits his want-to-be personality description. For example: Crosshair's favorite...That I had to deduce on my own since he was too stubborn to just tell me...is craisin salted caramel on a lemon flavored cookie. All three key ingredients are usually considered sour with a mere hint of (usually undetectable) sweetness. His personality needs no explanation compared to that.''
Crossing his arms over his chest, Hunter raised an eyebrow. ''Okay, what about me?''
''Yours is a seasonal pumpkin cinnispice with a sprinkle of brown sugar and nuts. Pumpkins are typically an indication of only hinted sweetness and an under-flavor of tart, the in between you could say; Though, of course, with your heightened sense of which taste is one of them, you would not notice it the same way we would. The brown sugar obviously shows the energy and the nuts explain the crazy plans you formulate.''
Now it was Crosshair's turn to cross his arms and raise a skeptical eyebrow. ''Then where does that leave you?''
''I happen to have pineapple rum as my favorite-(flavored by artificial flavoring only, of course) Pineapple is super sweet but has a sharp acidic taste if taken the wrong way. And the rum flavoring gives it a-''
''A rather plain and snobby flavor for you with a hint of savage.'' Hunter cut in, patting him on the shoulder as he passed, heading for the cockpit; then he paused, taking a few steps backwards before he leaned back enough to see Tech.
''...And how do you know all this?''
''I don't. That was all a mere observation on my part and simple logic.''
One finger went up in the beginning of yet another explanation, ''However-''
''Uh huh.''
Once again, Hunter zoned out of the conversation and continued on his way to the cockpit despite the fact that Tech found it good and well within his interest to continue talking. He loved the guy as his brother, but there were limits to how long he was willing to listen to him talk. As did Wrecker apparently...
" - which is why such things are never tolerated in that particular society, and - " Tech paused to draw in more air, fully ready to continue.
Having shuffled over to him during his speech, Wrecker groaned and whacked him between the shoulder blades, forcing him to choke on his own breath. While he spluttered and coughed in the background, Crosshair lifted an eyebrow.
''Then don't add that with cinninog.'' CH commented, glancing sideways at the others, a hidden smirk on his face. ''Even the none-alcoholic type can make a man go hyper if paired with a decked-out cookie.''
''Cinninog!'' Wrecker screeched, excitedly.
''NO!''
Too late.
Skipping once, Wrecker charged forward.
''Crosshair!'' Hunter bellowed, dashing back into the kitchen.
Pulling a bolt-reflector from his belt, CH waited...then seized his chance. The reflector pinged off the larger man's armor, resulting in a painful whine. Screeching, Wrecker skidded to a halt...and turned on the sniper. There was a tense moment of suspense, then Crosshair gave a taunting 'come here' gesture.
''Yeah, I hit you. Come and get me...Adiik.''
Child.
Letting out a frustrated growl, Wrecker leaped at him, causing the ship to shake when he landed on an empty ground. He had dodged.
Some one whistled.
Looking up, Crosshair stood at the doorway to the outside, cocking his head with a slight smirk.
''Missed me.''
There was no air in his lungs to say that again when he was tackled straight through the door and on to the snow outside.
Eyes wide, but neither of them particularly surprised, Hunter and Tech poked their heads out the door, watching as the other two wrestled for the top.
''Are you going to break them up?'' Tech asked.
''Eh,'' he replied, ''I'm just going to make sure they don't kill each other permanently since that's something that's not easily fixed.''
Shivering as he suddenly remembered that he wasn't in his insulated armor, but rather the blacks plus a heavy sweatshirt, he jogged down the steps. If he was being honest with himself, he didn't particularly care how they rocked-and-rolled with this. He was just outside because the air inside the Marauder was getting muggy.
While it was a great ship, because it was space-worthy, it also didn't allow for very much 'airing out'...and four (mostly?) grown men in a confined space took it's toll even on the staunchest of personalities.
Off in his peripheral vison, he watched the wrestling match. Crosshair had just managed to break away long enough to stand and now they were back at it again. Wrecker tried to pull him into a headlock, but the sniper dodged easily before vaulting smoothly over him, showing off a bit by adding in a double front tuck before landing on both feet like the gymnast he'd been trained to be. During the flaunty move, Wrecker had run right under him but only succeeded putting more distance between them.
While Hunter clapped lazily - making his sarcasm known - with surprising flourish, Crosshair gave a sweeping bow before turning to do it once again as Wrecker once again charged him. Only this time, Crosshair swept off the scarlet blanket he'd thrown over one shoulder like a cape and held it out to the side and as Wrecker charged, merely stepped to the side so the other went straight by.
Hunter gave an amused snort. Turning to him, Crosshair lifted a hand above his head in response. ''Ole.''
The evening of the score came quickly as then Wrecker tackled him from behind like the (obviously) fair sport that he was.
Snow was crunching under his feet as walked; But then Hunter paused, glancing up the cliff face that protected them from the Northern wind that was beginning to pick up. He'd thought he'd heard rocks clatter, but he passed it off as a simple rock slide due to the weather and he thought nothing more of it...until it happened again...a little closer. Suddenly he remembered what he'd thought he'd heard the night before.
Odd, there's nothing out here. Then again, I never asked Tech to check the bio scanner. I wonder...
Out of pure curiosity, he began searching around the edge of the cliff...and stopped.
Behind him, the sound of an argument was still ringing loud and true. Finding that Hunter had wandered off, Tech had joined the others outside and while he had managed to end the physical fight, the verbal one had conveniently taken its place. He waited till it had shifted to only Wrecker and Tech arguing before he called over his shoulder,
''Hey, Crosshair!''
As the sharp eyed sniper jogged over, Hunter pointed. ''Do you see that?''
A few meters off on a hill, there seemed to be an impression in the snow. Walking closer, they saw it was a foot track. It was small, four toed like a bird of prey with three toes in the front and one in the back, but shorter and squattier. Around them there seemed to be something had been dragging in the snow beside and behind it.
''Baby wampa prints?'' Hunter asked, raising an eyebrow. But he was just throwing out a possible guess; even though he knew it wasn't.
''No, it can't be...they wouldn't be up there; besides, it's too warm here. They prefer Hoth. And the paw size is too small.''
''Well I haven't seen anything else that looks like that.'' he retorted.
''You haven't seen anything that looks like that.''
Sighing, Hunter crouched next to the print. ''We'll have to call the...ahem, 'expert' in then?''
Crosshair thought about it...then shook his head.
''Yeah,'' the sergeant stood. ''Probably not a good idea. He'd either freak or geek.''
But oddly enough, as they returned to where the others were, they both noticed that the sounds of argument had changed drastically. Tech was debating louder then usual while Wrecker was letting out that 'argument -coo- argue, argue...coo' noise.
Oh Kriff.
They glanced at each other...that sprinted as fast as they could back to the ship. As they ran, Hunter might have thought he heard the sniper mutter, 'Oh no, Wrecker, what have you done to us all now?''
But that will be left up to speculation.
When they finally skidded to a stop, they paused.
''Whaaa?'' Hunter cocked his head, staring at the writhing mass of color that had planted itself on Wrecker's lap.
Wrecker just looked up with a happy smile on his face.
''Can I keep her?''
The response, however, came not from Hunter's lips. Instead, before he could reply, the air was split by what sounded like a shrill 'Shcreeeeeeeee' followed by a playful gurgle. Tech shuttered, muttering, 'I heard a sound like that in a horror-holo once,' as he turned away. But, as usual, Wrecker ignored his discomfort and went on cooing at the squealing...thing he was holding.
''Come on, Techie, you make a baby snowman but you can't handle this?''
''That wasn't moving!''
''Can someone please tell me what that is?'' Hunter broke in.
Like a whip, the 'thing' in Wrecker's lap snapped to a stop, golden eyes staring straight into his soul. Then it shcreed before jumping off its perch and toddling over to Hunter's feet, pawing at him to be picked up.
''You've got to be kidding me.''
Despite the ridiculousness of it all, despite the unlikeliness -no impossibility-of it and despite the sheer insanity...there, at his foot, stood a shimmery, two-toned rose pink and ice blue baby dragon...with the most adorable golden tooka eyes any of them had ever seen.
Behind him, Crosshair groaned. ''I think I'm gonna be sick.''
Just like you, CH, to be most afraid of something cute.
''How?'' he said flatly,'' The Kriff. Did you find this?''
Though I suppose a better question is: do I really want to deal with this now? And do I even want to know why Wrecker had a baby dragon on his lap? Honestly...no.
''I found her sniffing the ships landing gear!'' Wrecker bounced, motioning for the baby to go back to him.
Giving Hunter one last inquisitive glance, the dragonet toddled back over, short wings bouncing with the movement.
''Awwww, I'm gonna name you Snowflake''
Snowflake!
Suddenly realizing what his squad-mate was getting himself into, Hunter shook his head.
''No, Wrecker! Don't nam-'' he sighed. ''Too late.''
Beside him, Crosshair raised an eyebrow.
''Wrecker, I thought you hated all things cute and adorable.''
The look on his face as he stopped was utter (nearly comical, in CH's POV) horror. He peered down at the baby, then at Crosshair, then back at the dragonet. Lifting a near shaky finger, he pointed at 'Snowflake.'
''This is cute and adorable?''
The others all glanced at each other.
''Yes.''
''Then I can't like her on principle.'' he whimpered.
And this was the fall of his spirits. The instant hope instantly dashed to pieces. The worst a man could suffer beyond belief!...oh, ahem. Pardon me, I've been monologuing.
Hunter nearly snorted a laugh had Wrecker not been sitting right there...But then he just couldn't get the idea out of his head.
So he snazzed up his mental voice.
There sit he still upon the snow...weeping, moaning, singing cries of regret and sorrow so deep no mortal man can bear to fathom. To believe-
But just as his mental self was beginning to get good (in his-don't mock- humble opinion), he could practically feel his thoughts interrupted by a darker force.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary...
Shooting a worried glanced to the side, Hunter saw Crosshair smirking back at him.
''Oh you little sithspit.'' he muttered.
The smirk, unnoticed by the rest of the world, only got bigger. The sniper gestured back to Wrecker, who was resisting the temptation to look the dragonet in the eyes now that he knew the truth.
Oh yes, back on topic.
The baby whined, pitifully pawing at Wrecker's leg, begging for his attention. She (they now assumed it was a she) jumped up on her hind legs and put her forelegs on his shoulders. whimpering; Yet the larger man resisted, squeezing shut his eyes...
And yet the tug at his heart-
Wondering over to him, Crosshair cleared his throat...pointedly. He took the hint.
As the pitiful scene unfolded (thou shalt not laugh during this or death will be your doom!), the others watched as the dragonet gave one last heart-broken whine, once bright cheerful eyes growing moist. Wrecker cracked open an eye...and closed it just as quickly in fear for his resolve.
''I can't. I won't.''
He heard the light crunch of snow as Crosshair stepped over to him, then felt the dark presence bend over him.
''Then look it in the eyes and tell it to its face.'' he challenged, voice smooth as snakes.
Letting out a little whimper himself, Wrecker squinted his eyes open ever-so slightly.
''More...more...just open them!''
He did.
All he could see where those sad, pretty little eyes staring back at his. He took a deep breath and smiled.
''Awwww, whatever! It's too adorable. come here!''
Shrieking with delight, the baby dragon sprang into his open arms, licking his face happily while everyone else groaned. Great; now they had a momentary pet that they all knew Wrecker was going to fight them to keep her.
''Yeah, yeah, yeah,'' Hunter waved a hand dismissively, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. ''Touching, but can we please go inside now?''
They had been standing outside for over fifteen minutes in plain clothes and the wind was starting to bite more then usual.
Luckily, for once, no one argued...on that anyway.
By the time they got back inside, everyone was wet, shivering, and miserable. In the last few moments before they'd made their way inside, infuriatingly while literally on the steps, a large clump of snow had fallen on the group. Naturally and righteously in dignified (save for Snowflake's delighted giggles), they had stayed outside another for (what they had planned on) five minutes to investigate the snow pile that had come seemingly out of nowhere.
All that had done was lead them into another one. Which, again because they clearly did not learn their lesson the first time, led to another more careful investigation...which led to a third dumping. Details of these have been retracted for time (and language for which Wrecker promptly covered Snowflake's ears), but the lesson they learned by the experience was as follows: some times, it's just better not to know.
Of course, for these rather stubborn men, they (nearly) always believed third time's a charm...To it simply, it wasn't.
And, as all frustrated persons do when they're frustrated, as they returned to the Marauder, they argued. Also as all (this time more 'nearly') frustrated persons, they're thoughts turned to food...before they found they couldn't even agree on that. Especially Wrecker when Tech suggested hot chocolate again to warm everyone up.
''Nooooo.'' he groaned, carrying Snowflake over his seat.
Hunter rolled his eyes. ''You said you like chocolate chips but you don't like hot chocolate?''
''Chips are smooth. Hot chocolate? BLEH. It's always gritty at the bottom because Tech puts too much chocolate powder in it and too little sweetener.'' Wrecker retorted.
''I like it dark,'' Tech's disembodied voice snapped from the crews quarters.
Raising a mock surprised eyebrow, the sergeant glanced at Crosshair, who sat on his normal perch.
''He could hear that from here? I thought he said last time he couldn't hear me call him; how could he hear me talk?''
''It's called selective hearing.''
''I heard that!''
CH nodded, his expression smirking as if to say: my point exactly.
For the rest of the day (since there wasn't much) Hunter slept like a dead man; he didn't know where the exhaustion came from, but had he been awake enough, he would have guessed he was finally taking Cody's advice. Of course, the others merely thought he was hibernating since he preferred more temperate weather. As for the others personally, no one else really did much but keep to themselves. Wrecker played with Snowflake, Tech buried himself in his inventions, and Crosshair sat on his bunk in the barracks, squeezing in sketches between sketches in the book he used.
Though it was faint, it was a moment of peace.
If only they had been conscious of that.
The things we take for granted...
The air was crisp when Hunter stepped outside. Sitting on the edge of the steps, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Tech was pulling 'chef' duty' (which for him meant 'new recipes'; and for them meant 'test subjects') so he had woken up just to make sure nothing too serious happened.
As the wind shifted, he could feel it chill, dropping the temperature another couple degrees. Another storm was coming. The moons were casting a silvery glow on the snow. Stars shone in the clear night. So far, however, though, nothing was wrong (so far as he knew); no one was screaming...Enjoying what moment of peace he could, he slipped on his helmet, tapping it to switch audio systems. The moment the fast-paced violin set the tune, he relaxed.
When he got too cold (and when Tech had called him in for chow), he headed back inside. After dinner, he walked passed Wrecker playing with Snowflake (much to Crosshair's detriment since now there was no peace), gave them both a stern warning about bedtime...though he knew the moment he fell asleep there was no way they would remember it.
As he drifted to sleep, Hunter suddenly remembered that they'd had the note Cody had given them and the strange instructions and map that went with it.
I'll think about that when I wake up, he thought, eyes drooping, W'en I wa'e u' next sspri'g.
Inside the crews quarters, all was quiet except the sounds of sleep coming from the other side of the barracks. Wrecker and Hunter were fast asleep. Crosshair was silent as the grave...but his younger brother was restless, tossing and turning as he waited for his own sleep to come. Yet as Tech lay there, he wondered about the oddities that had been going on. Part of him wondered if that was the reason he was still up. But it didn't make any sense!
Things missing only to reappear in the snowmen invasion?
Wish there was a way to rewatch the day like a holodrama...
Suddenly he sat up in bed.
''That's it!'' he cried, leaping from his bunk and dashing to the control panel in the main cabin.
Frantically, he searched through the files in the computer till one flashed by and he had to scroll back: Security cam. Barely daring to breath, heart thudding, he opened the file and tapped for two days prior. Everyone else staggered in, groaning and bleary-eyed but worried as they saw him hunched over the screen.
''Tech, wha' i' it?'' Hunter yawned.
''I may have found the culprit,'' he waving them away. ''If this can show him mid-crime, then...''
He froze mid-sentence as a figure entered into the screen shot. He held his breath, but some how the figure knew to keep his back to the camera! His face was never visible, as was his armor since he had what seemed to be a cloak thrown over his shoulders...but those were the dead give-away.
All eyes turned to Wrecker, who gulped.
''Gents, the prime subject has changed,'' Hunter said softly.
''It wasn't me.'' he whimpered.
But there was no mistaking the broad shoulders of the culprit. And there was only one person on board who looked like that...
Dundunduuuuuuuuh...
Yes, yes, crazy cookie flavors for the guys (but don't they sound good?) but I really wanted to try this and see where Tech went with that. He was quite persistent on it in fact.
(Tech: ''May I add in a note to everyone to see if their favorite cookie proves their personality?'')
No, Tech, you may not.
Just in case you don't know, 'civvies' is military for 'civilian clothes'
XD stuff just keeps happening with these guys.