Spy dug his hands into the Texan's back, reveling in the feel of the man's skin, his pulse. He could hardly believe the man was here. It seemed any instant the man would fade, he would wake up and this would all be some sentimental imagining. Second chances might happen to other people, but they never happened to him.

He lived in the moment, until the moment faded and left him alone. The cowboy's work-worn hands found their way beneath his undershirt. The rough fingers pulling him away from his thoughts. The man's intensity had not dimmed from their last encounter, but was more careful this time. The hungry desperation replaced with curiosity.

The cowboy murmured indistinctly, pulling him into another hungry kiss. His cowboy. His. He smiled, burying his face in the man's neck. "Ma puce" he purred in the man's ear with a chuckle.

The Texan froze. "Did...did yah jus' call me a flea?"

"Oui."

Engineer scowled.

"My flea." Spy translated his hands slid along the contours of the Texan's back."Stubborn, adorable " he continued bare hands drifting across skin to the cowboy's ass and gripped him there. The muscle was firm, the skin was hot under his fingers. "Resilient…petit." he added with a smirk.

This elicited a grumble from Engineer who grabbed him by the hips, turning him on his back. Spy laughed as the Texan straddled him, pinning him to the mattress. His cowboy was taking the lead and Spy was more than happy to let him. The first kiss was slow and sweet, that cow had never deserved this man. He pulled back just long enough to murmur encouragement against the Engineer's cheek and then pressed back into the kiss. The Texan smelled like grease and a musky, woody scent that could have been his aftershave. Engineer's hand brushed his head, stroking the cloth of the mask.

Spy tensed under the touch, as the man's hand gripped the cloth. Was he intending to unmask him? Engineer froze, they looked at each other cautiously.

"Sorry," the Texan jerked his hand back with an awkward laugh breaking the silence. "Sorry," he repeated nervously pulling away. "Ah wasn' gonna…" he trailed off.

"Let me keep some secrets, s'il vous plaît" he whispered leaning in closing the distance between them again, catching his hand and placing a kiss on the palm. Nuzzling the cowboy's hand he kissed the inside of the wrist. Gently biting it he felt the man's pulse quicken.

Feeling the Texan shift and move underneath him, exciting him, he felt the man's growing erection beneath his own. Placing his hands on the cowboys hips his fingers started sliding underneath the waistband, to give the man proper attention. One of Engineer's hands gently took one of his own and placed it on the bed, away from his waist. "Let's just take it slow," the man murmured.
Spy removed his other hand without a word. He'd gotten a second chance with the cowboy, he couldn't, he wouldn't let this slip from his grasp again. He placed a hand on the man's cheek, the stubble prickling the palm of his hand. "No hurry." he said turning the Texan's face to look at him. There'd be time enough later.

Engineer turned the Vespa's ignition on and kicked the starter, preparing to hear the sound of an engine in pain. Instead he heard… nothing. The motor hadn't even tried to start. Frowning he tried again and… silence. The thing had sounded awful last night but it should at least try to turn on.

Glancing up, he noticed Spy watching him with a hint of amusement on his face. There was clearly something he was missing.

"Alright," he sighed. "What's the trick?"

The snake was trying to suppress a smirk as he strolled over, straddled the Vespa seat and with a twist of the key, turn of the clutch and an almost imperceptible press on the rear brake, the machine sputtered and wheezed into life with a cloud of smoke.

"Anythin' else I need to know about?" he asked wryly as the vespa sputtered and died.

"Let me know when you need to get to the petrol tank."

"What's wrong with the gas tank?"

"If you open the cap wrong it sets off a knock out gas." Spy answered with a shrug.

"Knock out gas." he repeated flatly. "Of course." Engineer wasn't sure what he had expected. He really shouldn't be surprised the man had booby trapped the damn thing. Made perfect sense. If you were a backstabbing Frenchman. "Anything else I need to look out for?"

Spy peered over the Texan's shoulder as pulled the engine cover off. The chassis was immaculate, well cared for, lovingly polished. Any normal person would have assumed the inner workings were as well looked after. But this was Spy's vehicle, appearances could be deceiving. A quick glance into the workings of the thing verified that this was very much the case.

"Can you fix it?" the Frenchman asked leaning in close to the Texan's ear.

"Cool yer heels, ah haven't gotten a look at it yet" he hissed. "And couldya back up - can't work with yah hovering…it's distractin'."

"Distracting, you say?" the Frenchman chuckled leaning closer, Engineer bit his lip as he felt the man's breath on his neck, breathing in the scent of cologne and cigarettes. He grit his teeth together, making himself focus on the job in front of him. The dilapidated scooter, not the owner. Not the feel of his kisses or the touch of his hands, his - he shook his head. They were out in the open, couldn't lose his head out here where they might be seen.

"Yah want me to fix this or not?" he snapped.

"Very well Monsieur," Spy held up his hands in mock surrender and he walked to the sidewalk "I shall move my distracting self over here and leave you to work in peace."

"Thank yah." he mumbled as he turned his attention back to the gummed up machinery.

The damn thing was in bad shape, ages of no maintenance, running through the heat and sand had finally caught up with it. It was a miracle it had survived and run as long as it had.

"When's the last time ya changed yer oil?" he asked peering at the crusted mess that was the motor, suspecting he already knew the answer.

"I fill it up whenever the petrol meter's low."

"I ain't talkin' about gas. Motor oil. Yer supposed to change it regularly. Did ya even read the manual to this thing? Where is the manual?"

There was no reply, but the Frenchman's silence seemed almost ashamed. For a moment Engineer almost felt bad for scolding the snake. Almost. The idiot should have known better. Probably hadn't realized you could polish and wax the outside all you wanted but it wouldn't do anything for the inside.

The motor was going to have to be flushed and cleaned. Probably rebored. The battery was probably on its way out, better to replace it than take any chances. There were probably other issues he hadn't discovered yet, this was all going to take time, supplies, and tools. None of which he had in a motel parking lot in the middle of the desert.

Grumbling to himself, the Texan stood up and stretched his protesting back.

"Can you fix it?" Spy asked acting more like a child worried that his dog had died than a grown man and his much abused vehicle.

"A lotta things are wrong with her," he said cautiously, wiping his hands. "Going to need a new battery, new sparks, probably flush the whole system, not to mention the engine. The brakes…" he trailed off with a shrug. "It would probably be easier to just scrap it and get a new one."

Spy looked at him in such horrified silence it made him regret he'd even suggested such a thing.

"O-or…" he hesitated glancing back at the wreckage. " We can load 'er up an' I haul her back to base, see about getting some replacement parts ordered. The chassis' in decent shape…Jus' gonna take some time t-" he was cut off as he found himself nearly toppled over by a grateful Frenchman hugging him.

"I-I got grease on me." he mumbled sheepishly smiling into the man's shoulder. This information didn't seem to dissuade Spy. He let himself enjoy the man's embrace before he remembered. Public. They were in the open. He roughly broke from the man's arms glancing around to see if anyone had seen them.

"I'll reward you later cowboy." Spy purred, his tone spelling out exactly what sort of reward he had in mind. If the man was upset he regained his composure quickly.

The Texan felt his face heat up as he glanced around again. This was most definitely the first time anyone had offered to pay him carnally for repairs. "U-uh," he coughed "J-jus' help me get this thing loaded."

It was early evening by the time they got back to Tuefort. Engineer stopped the truck at a crossroads on the edge of town, far enough to not attract notice, but still within a reasonable walking distance from BLU base. The same place he had had dropped him off that night on Thanksgiving. Strange how much things had changed since then.

They had chatted idly during the drive, nothing serious. They hadn't talked about what they were doing, no plans. Every time he thought about asking the words stuck in his throat, as if saying them would shatter whatever understanding they had come to. "Well…" he trailed off, biting his lip and unsure of what to say. What he could say. He turned to the passenger side to see empty air. It took him a second to realize that Spy had already cloaked.

"Au revoir, mon cher," the Frenchman's voice was low and soft his ear. The Texan opened his mouth to try and stammer out a reply but found himself silenced by a kiss. He closed his eyes, for once ignoring how strange it would look to anyone passing by. For the first time since his wife, allowing himself to be intimate with another person and enjoy the heat of someone else's lips against his own. But the kiss was over too soon, he found himself reaching out for the unseen Frenchman. He felt a gloved hand press against his lips and heard a chuckle. "Time for that later, Monsieur Cowboy." The passenger door to the truck opened, there was the faint sound of feet hitting the ground, and with a click of the door latch the snake was gone.

Suppressing a smile, the Texan got the truck out of idle and went down the road to his own base.

There was little activity when he parked his truck with the other vehicles. With any luck he could get the Vespa unloaded without anyone noticing it. After a moment's search he managed to find enough spare scraps to make a ramp to wheel the scooter off. While not a perfect solution, it was better than trying to carry it by himself or just shoving it off. He hummed to himself as he wheeled the Vespa off the truck bed.

"So where'd ya git the little bike?" Sniper's voice cut into his humming. Slim was standing behind him, eyeing him curiously. The bushman was quieter than he had any right to be.
"Erm," his mind stumbled, trying to figure out an appropriate response. "Ah foundit." It wasn't recognizable was it? There was no way Sniper could know whose scooter this was. He wasn't sure how much about the other team was common knowledge but he was sure if anyone knew the enemy Spy rode around on this broken contraption it'd be the subject of more than a little ridicule.

"Yeh found it." the bushman repeated. Was it his imagination or was there a hint of skepticism?

"Ah erm, jus' ran across it. On the side of the road." he babbled on. "Figured ah'd try fixin' it up. Give me somethin' to do." He added, with what he hoped was a casual shrug.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Everythin'" he answered in irritation.

"If that's the case, why ya botherin' mate?" Slim asked with a frown.

"'Cause…." he trailed off. Because he couldn't say no to Spy. Couldn't ignore that sad look on the man's face. Spook would have been disappointed if he'd refused. He was in too deep to say no. "Cause," he started again. "Why not?" he asked while walking the scooter away from the parking lot. "Somethin' more interestin' to do than piece together the same damn equipment over an' over."

"Yer time, I suppose," the bushman mused and strolled along, having little trouble keeping up as they made their way to some of the storage sheds. "Though what are yeh gonna do with it when its done?"

Give it back to Spy, with a manual and tell him not to let it get that bad again. Maybe get rewarded, and this thought made him stifle a grin. "Dunno." The tips of his ears were hot.

Before the Australian could ask any more questions they arrived at a storage shed Engineer sometimes used to store larger, more dangerous projects. Pulling his keys out of his pocket, he unlocked the padlock on the door and opened it. He wheeled the Vespa through the door, past scrapped sentries and failed prototypes. It would be safe out here until he could get some parts ordered and get proper work started.

"That should be alright fer now." he muttered locking the shed up again.

The skirmish on Monday started like any other. Engineer prepared his machines and tried to make sense of the situation in general. The night before, he had taken the enemy Spy's Vespa to be repaired; two days ago, he had met up with the same man to put things at rest, and failed. So much had changed and yet the job was the same. His teammates were still the same, and his enemies were still the same. Mostly.

It was nearly lunchtime and the front lines hadn't broken yet. A few people had come down to the Intel room, often it was Pyro coming to check up on him and refuel. But no one from BLU, not even Spy who usually managed to show up wherever he pleased regardless of the state of the battle. His sentry beeped peacefully to itself just outside the door. The dispenser hummed to itself. Engineer refused to believe the man was going to leave him alone. He was going to show up, it was just a matter of when and how. And what he was going to do when he did.

Time passed, lunch break came and went and there was still no sign of Trouble. Ah well no sense waiting for the man. He had a job to do, not like his day revolved around self absorbed men in fancy suits and nice smelling cologne. There was a fault in the dispenser wiring he should be looking into fixing, whistling to himself he pulled open a side panel to get a better look.

"Bonjour," a familiar voice whispered in his ear. Calmly turning around he found himself face to face with the Frenchman. The man was holding out a red rose for him.

"Spook." he tried to keep his voice even ignoring the flower and resisted questioning where one even found roses of any color in the middle of a desert.

"Cowboy." Spy gave him a smile that Engineer wasn't sure if he found it appealing or infuriating. Deciding it was better to not let himself get distracted by this inner debate, he turned back to his wiring job. The snake probably wasn't going to stab him in the back. Probably.

"What sort of welcome is this?" Spy asked sullenly, leaning over his shoulder. "I crossed a battlefield to see you."

"Ah got work to do." he muttered, trying to ignore how close the man was looming over him. "Don' you got somewhere else to be?" he pulled a pair of wire cutters off his tool belt.

"Non." he could hear the smile in the snake's voice. He froze when he felt hands on his waist, tugging on his toolbelt, the man's lips on his neck. Engineer turned and pushed the man away. Spy looked back at him, crestfallen and confused.

"You want to…" he trailed off knowing he had probably gone as red as his shirt. "Here? Now?"`

"Yes. Why not?"

"W-What-" Engineer struggled to find a way to voice all the reasons, "On base-on the clock…" he hissed, glancing at the door as if it might burst open at any second.

"So?"

"We could be caught."

"Makes it more thrilling doesn't it?" Spy countered with a grin. He opened his mouth to protest but suddenly realized how close the Frenchman was again. Spy had moved, or he had, he wasn't certain. The only thing he was certain of was the distance between them had disappeared. He swallowed and tried to ignore the pounding of his heart.

The Frenchman leaned even nearer, gently placing a gloved hand under his chin, tilting his face up to meet him with a kiss. It wasn't until his lungs reminded him that oxygen was a necessity that he pulled away.

After a moment or two he managed to catch his breath. "Ah-Ah've got work to do."

"So do I," Spy chuckled, reaching to kiss him again. The Texan found himself pinned against the dispenser, a gloved hand gently slipping the wire cutters from his grip. Somewhere in the back of his mind it occurred to him he should resist or protest. But he found himself unable to care.
"This is sabotage," he murmured in between kisses, gripping the lapels of the man's jacket, pulling him closer.

"That was the idea." Spy's breath tickled his ear.

"You bastar-"the sound of sentry fire cut him off.

Spy disappeared, leaving Engineer staring at open air with his brain struggling to process this sudden change in agenda. The door burst open and the BLU Scout scrambled in, trying, and mostly succeeding to, outrun the gunfire.

"Dammit!" the Texan ducked behind the dispenser and fumbled for his pistol, adrenaline working to clear his head. Bullets ricocheted off the dispenser as Engineer peered around the side to get a shot at the kid. If he could at least get the damn kid in the kneecap the machines could finish the job. But the Scout was too fast, the sentry was having trouble hitting him, it would be a miracle if he managed to. Finally, he got a bead on Scout, but before he could pull the trigger there was a triumphant muffled yell as the kid burst into flames.

For a minute or two, Pyro was distracted by a few spare embers before looking up at Engineer.

"Huddah?" the firebug's head tilted like a curious puppy.

"I-I'm alright." the cowboy holstered his pistol. Adrenaline and the smell of burning numbskull was clearing his head. "Ah'm fine." He scanned room for any sign of Spy: blood, a body, a cloud of smoke. But there was only a few new bullet holes in the plaster of the wall, revealing the concrete supports, and a charred scatter gun. The snake had seemingly slithered out somehow in the chaos. Of course he had.

"Hudd Huddah?" Pyro pointed to a spot on the floor.

"Hm?" By the dispenser was a red rose, it was shriveled, nearly singed in the blast of the flame thrower, but it was still undeniably a flower and not a weapon. And definitely out of place.

"Huddah?"

"Uh-ah dunno wher-" he was interrupted once again by a distressed beep coming from the sentry. And the hiss of a sapper. "Ah, Hell." he jogged past the offending flower and Pyro, brandishing his wrench knocking it loose from the gun.

Firebug, now given a new target to chase, bustled past the cowboy and down the hall with a chortle that sounded almost like a hound baying after a fox.

Engineer looked at the cracked remnants of the sapper on the ground and kicked it with his shoe. "Shit." he muttered, before getting to work repairing the damage.

Casually Spy unlocked the door to the cowboy's room and let himself in, the room was as vacant as the workshop had been. Sighing, Spy glanced at the glow of his watch. This time of evening the man usually called it a night. The man would probably turn up soon. Removing his jacket he slipped it on the back of the desk chair and sat down at the desk, making himself at home. He noticed that the cowboy left a paperback novel out. Glancing at the cover he sneered, it looked boring and disappointing. But he was just passing time. Spy flipped it open to the first page and hoped Engineer would be back soon.

He was about half way through the first chapter when the Texan came through the door. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, the smell of soap still clinging to him. He was fresh from the shower, then.

The cowboy spotted him and came to a stop. "Evening." Spy noticed the man's faint smile as he turned to lock the door.

"I needed to talk to you, so I waited," he explained, putting the book down on the desk where he found it.

"Ah was in the shower."

"So I see." Spy answered with an appraising smirk as the man walked to the wardrobe. The first time he had ever met the man on the battlefield, he had thought the man was pudgy - his work uniform certainly hadn't done him any favors. But over time he had come to realize how deceptive the first glance was. He drank in the sight of the man in the dim light without the overalls. The shifting muscles of his back. The powerful arms. The pale parts of flesh not even the sun had seen or touched. A sight for his eyes only.

The Texan pulled an undershirt and briefs from the drawer in the wardrobe. He stood there awkwardly for a moment or two before finally undoing the towel. Keeping his back turned he put on undergarments and padded barefoot across the small room. "So what did you want to talk about?" the man asked sitting down on the bed.

"Today… did not go so well."

"That'd be puttin' mildly," the cowboy chuckled, a hint of a crooked smile on his lips.

"The smell of burning flesh does spoil the mood." Spy admitted.

"Also was damn risky." the Texan added with a glare.

"Probably was not the… best of ideas."

"Mm-hmm." the man picked up his guitar from where it had been propped up against the wall.

"We need to set up a way to meet elsewhere, off base."

"What did you have in mind?" the Texan asked warily.

Spy rolled his eyes. "It's really quite simple." Reaching for his jacket he pulled out a folded piece of paper. He passed it to Engineer, "This is a list of respectable motels in a sixty kilometer radius." It was regrettably, a rather short list, there were a couple of others, but he had decided to cut them from the list for reasons of basic health concerns. "Do not lose it." The cowboy looked at the list then back at him quizzically.

"If I'm wearing a striped tie, that means I've arranged for a room that evening. If I'm using a half windsor knot, it's at the first location on the list. If I've tied it with a full windsor we meet at the second location." He noticed the Texan's expression hadn't changed. "Got it?"

"…Yea?" the man answered in a tone that suggested he really didn't. Regardless, Spy decided to keep on.

"If it's tied with a trinity, that's the third location on the list."

"If you say so."

"If it's a Van Wiljk knot that's the fourth on the list. Any questions?"

"Yea… how am ah supposed to tell the difference between these funny ties a yours?"

"The tie isn't different - it's the knots." Spy corrected.

"How am ah supposed to tell these knots apart?"

He supposed that in the land of bolo ties and cheap suits the man wouldn't have learned how to properly knot a tie. "I can show you-" he began to loosen his tie to demonstrate.

"Lemme get a pencil-"

"What do you need a pencil for?"

"So ah can write this down?"

"You never write this down!"

"Keep yer voice down." Engineer hissed. "You aren't supposed to be in here remember?" he cleared his throat before speaking again. "Ah won't be able to remember alla this."

"Never write the code down." That was just common sense. He had thought the cowboy an intelligent man. "That's how information gets discovered."

"This is also how information gets lost or misread." came the stubborn reply. "Can't we set up a rotation or something? Or just use one of these places?"

"Never fall into a routine. Routines can be followed."

"Well now yer jus' bein impossible!"

"Keep your voice down," Spy smugly reminded him. "You're supposed to be alone in here, remember?"

The dirty look the cowboy shot him made him go quiet. He might need to rethink his plan if he wanted Engineer to agree to it. Arguing about it was only going to risk them being discovered. Even though it wasn't that complicated.

"Very well, Monsieur." he sighed. "Keep the list, I will slip you messages of where we will meet."

"Thought you said we weren't writing it down."

"Code books do exist for reasons." he admitted. "We can keep the number system. Just do not misplace that list."

"Alright, so you wear a striped tie, to indicate you want to meet up and slip me the location. And I suppose ah destroy the note after reading."

"Oui. Any questions?"

There was a long pause before the man spoke, "What am I supposed to do if I decide we should meet up?"

"Ah…" he froze. For some reason the thought that the cowboy might want to see him the way he needed to never occurred to him. He looked at the Texan, there seemed no trace of teasing, just his usual honest face. He swallowed a lump in his throat. "We can refine the details of that later if you wish."

"Better start brushing up on your semaphore." the man teased.

"I shall make that my top priority Monsieur,." this response garnered a chuckle.

The conversation lulled as Engineer idly fiddled with the guitar, strumming it now and then, tuning it when a note was sour. Spy watched him, suppressing a smile, the ridiculous cowboy with his silly guitar. "Play me something."

The Texan glanced up in surprise "Got any requests?"

On impulse, Spy got up from the desk chair and furtively sat on the bed next to the cowboy who scooted to give him more room. "Anything but that Irene song."

"You got somethin' against the classics?" Spy didn't reply instead sliding closer to the cowboy. The man hummed to himself as he started strumming, his fingers deftly picking out the notes without a second thought. The song started quiet, gaining volume as it continued. It was simple, repeating the same string of notes a few times. Spy had heard the man play in passing. Through keyholes, and the wrong side of doors. He smiled to himself. Now the man was playing for him.

The Texan played on unaware of how closely Spy was watching him, clearing his throat he began to sing. His voice was low and smooth.
"Well, I can't tell you anything you don' already know. I keep on tryin' I should jus' let it go." The Frenchman listened and watched the cowboy's face, entranced, as the song went on. "I keep on singin', your eyes they just roll. It's sounds like someone's song fro-," He draped his arms around the Texan, startling him to a halt.

"Sorry, Monsieur," Spy planted kiss on the man's cheek. "I did not mean for you to stop." he whispered in his ear.

"Kinda hard for me to play with you being distractin'"

"I'm just showing my appreciation," Spy chuckled as he leaned to kiss the man more deeply. Engineer responded with a kiss of his own that left the Frenchman breathless.

"One second…" the cowboy whispered, shoving Spy off. He carefully placed the guitar on the floor beside the bed. "Thas' better." With a throaty laugh the workman grabbed him by the tie, pulling him close into those strong arms.

"Thought you wouldn't want to do this sort of thing on base." he murmured while the Texan occupied himself with undoing the buttons of his vest. There was no response, Engineer just started undoing the buttons of his shirt.

"In that case…" With a predatory grin, Spy pinned the man to the mattress. He straddled the smaller man, pulling his gloves off and tossing them on the floor. He slid his hands under the thin shirt, relishing the heat of the man's skin, the feel of the man's heartbeat as it raced. The Engineer had more hair on his chest than the slim young men he was used to taking to bed. He found he liked it. Peeling the shirt up he laid a delicate kiss in the middle of the cowboy's chest, then another, and another, working down the man's chest, his stomach, until he came to the trail of hair beneath the naval, above the man's hardening erection. The cowboy tensed, every muscle taut like a bow string.

Spy looked up to meet his gaze. "I can stop." he murmured, taking the Texan's hand in his own. Engineer looked him in the eye, and placed his other hand on the Frenchman's shoulder. Spy resettled himself between the Texan's knees, sliding a fingertip beneath the elastic of the man's briefs. Engineer's erection sprang up fully hard, and the low moan the man made when he grasped him at the base made it difficult to ignore his own need. He wasn't accustomed to ignoring any of his own wants. But doing so now… his hand glided up to circle his thumb around the crown and the arch of the man's back was more satisfying to him than anything he could do to himself.

His tongue darted out to moisten his lips. This close he could smell the musk of the man, could swear he could feel the heat rising off him. He wrapped his mouth around the tip of his member and chuckled when the Texan beat a desperate fist against the mattress. Spy's hand settled back around the base of the man's erection again and froze when he felt the Engineer's hand drop down onto his head, onto the mask. It took a beat for him to realize that the other man didn't have any intention of pulling it away from him, but just wanted to keep him in place. He almost laughed again, toyed with the idea of pulling away to torment the other man a bit, and then remembered the strength and breadth of the Engineer's hands. Spy groaned, squeezing with his fingers and taking him several inches deeper into his mouth.

"Docktor…" Heavy called.

He was being ignored. He was in bed, ready and waiting. And being ignored. "I am ready for my examination Doctor." he added coaxingly.

"Shhh!"

"What are you doing?"

"Leise!" Medic hushed him, leaning closer to the wall, pressing the stethoscope against it.

The Russian man rolled his eyes, pulling the covers over his legs. He was getting cold, and it seemed he was unlikely to receive attention any time soon."Why is docktor listening to wall?"

"There's someone else in there." the German man murmured quietly. "I'm sure of it."

Sighing, Heavy picked up his bedside reading and slipped his spectacles on. Without a word he opened to his place and continued reading. It made no sense, the evening had been going so well. Some wine, some chatting, the doctor got his kit out. Medic had left to use the bathroom and came back and now he was listening to a wall. This had not been the plan for this evening.

"Engineer is just playing guitar in there." Heavy insisted as he turned a page.

"The sound I heard when I was in the hall did not come from a guitar." the doctor insisted stubbornly.

Heavy sighed and looked up from his book, he normally enjoyed Nermontov but even the most fascinating read was hard to care about when the promise of sex still lingered. "The noise is nothing." he said firmly.

"But-"

"Nothing." he repeated, his tone implied that the sound was nothing and better be nothing or Medic would be spending the night in his own bed. Alone.

"Ja, ja," the doctor reluctantly lowering his stethoscope. "Maybe you are right." Though he sounded hardly convinced.

"Come to bed моя Голубка" Heavy insisted, putting the book on the nightstand.

Medic reluctantly turned from the wall and looked at Heavy stretched out. Stepping away from the wall he decided to go to bed and put the stethoscope to better use.