A perfectly clear sky hung over the base, stars just beginning to poke their bright faces. There was no city lights to dull them, no midsummer squall to hide the beautiful night as it emerged, only a dome of blue-black nothing encompassing the whole world.
Soldier was loosing his goddamned mind.
It had been years since he had seen such a perfect Fourth, and he was determined not to screw it up. Bad weather and plain dumb luck had wrecked last year's so thoroughly he had gotten himself run out of town, not to mention loosing a bit of toe along the way. (How was he supposed to know the gymnasium ceiling wasn't high enough? It's not like his rockets came with instructions.) And that was nothing compared to six years ago when he tried to fix his damp fireworks by putting them in the oven, reuslitng in several third degree burns, $12,000 in property damage, and a very difficult day for the Buffalo police department.
But this year was different. This year, he wouldn't be spending his Fourth alone.
His new team was still bunched by the fire, waiting for the show to start; he had promised them a spectacle of a lifetime, and he didn't intend to disappoint. (Well, his exact words were: "you chittering Nancys are going to wet your bloomers when you see this," but it meant the same thing in the end.) Despite the fact that five of them weren't even American, and that was giving Pyro the benefit of the doubt, they still celebrated like any good company of soldiers should. They had patiently listened to Soldier's annual telling of The Independence Day Story, and humored his feeble attempts at marching in the parade. And, after a fantastic cookout compliments of the Engineer, the Texan was playing a soft tune for his stuffed audience, waiting for the sun to set. It was time for the most important part of the most important day of the year: fireworks.
All Soldier had to do was keep it together long enough to light them.
He was only halfway done. Every few seconds he had to stop and triple check everything, slowing his pace considerably. Honestly, this should be the least nerve-wracking part of the day: if there was one thing he was good at, it was explosives.
He glanced over at his team, hoping they weren't getting antsy, but they looked content just sitting and listening to Engineer play. At least, most of them were. He counted seven mercenaries, excluding himself, which meant someone was mis-
"Everythin' goin' alright over here?"
Soldier jumped at the voice, bobbling his homemade firework in the air before clutching it protectively to his chest. He whipped around to see the Demoman standing a few feet away, holding a beer and being politely interested.
"Do not sneak up on me! I am working with dangerous substances here!"
Demoman shrugged. "That never stops you from bargin' intae me lab while I'm workin'. I happen tae use 'dangerous substances' one hundred percent of the time, you ken."
"Yes, but this is important."
Rolling his eye, Demoman walked over to inspect the fireworks. "I just came over tae see what was takin' so long."
"Nothing is taking so long! I am simply going at a pace that is worthy of such a momentous event."
"If you want, I can help," Demoman offered. "Half the work, aye? We'll be done in no time."
Soldier hesitated. He had always been the one to handle the fireworks; but then again, he had always been the only one within a fifty-mile radius who qualified to. But now that he worked as a mercenary, he was surrounded by people a whole lot smarter than him, a fact that he was keenly aware of. Who better to help him with explosives than someone whose expertise is blowing things up?
"Alright tricky fingers. But don't mess anything up!"
Demoman set his empty beer down and begin lining up the fireworks, moving counter-clockwise to Soldier. As he went, he checked over each one, making sure they were primed and ready to go. Not that there was much of a safety risk with respawn still on, but chunks of body parts raining from the sky tended to put a damper on festivities. Well, unless you were Pyro; then blood and multicolored lights were equally fun. Pyro themself showed a disinterest in the fireworks as soon as Scout pulled out the sparklers, and the two of them immediatley started a game of chicken. It involved seeing who could hold the most sparklers before letting go, a game which Pyro won everytime. Then again, maybe it was a bit rigged considering Scout wasn't wearing a full body fireproof suit.
Holding up a firework for inspection, Demoman asked over his shoulder, "so, you make all these yourself?"
"Have been for the last twenty years. It was a lot easier this time, though. Didn't have to steal the ingredients."
"They're pretty amazin' for workin' out o' a scrap bin."
Soldier turned to face his teammate. "Are you making fun of me?"
"No," Demoman laughed, "I mean that. In fact, if this is what you could make with bits and bobs, I'd say you'd make a pretty good demoman. Assuming you drank a bit more, o' course."
The compliment made Soldier's stomach all tingly. He knew he wasn't the brightest on the team, not by a long shot, and getting praise from someone who knew how to do calculus was insanely unexpected. It made him feel even better than that morning when Medic said his parade banner looked "very nice."
As though reading his mind, Demoman said, "and the parade this mornin' was a real put-together. You've done a nice job o' settin' all this up."
Soldier smiled, feeling a little guilty. His team was nothing but supportive, and all he ever did was yell at them. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't tell them he appreciated them. The words just wouldn't come. That's why today was so important: he could show them just how much they meant.
"Thanks," he managed to muster before changing the subject. "Does that mean you are enjoying your Fourth of July?"
"Sure," Demoman said. "Explosions. Booze. Tellin' the English tae fuck off. What's not tae like?" He paused as Soldier laughed. "And this ain't no small shindig either. You've really gone all out for this, haven't you?"
"Of course I have!" Soldier declared. "It is the most important day of the year! Not only is it our glorious country's day of birth, but it is the day we usher in good luck for the coming year!"
Demoman raised an eyebrow. "Good luck?"
"Yes! A kiss on the Forth of July will bring an entire year of luck for the town! Do not tell me you haven't heard of this sacred Independence tradition?"
"I'm pretty sure that's New Year's, Soldier."
"New Year's? Ha! The Forth kicks the crap out of New Year's."
"But the whole thing o' startin' the new year with good luck-"
"Whatever!" Soldier shouted, exasperated. "Who cares if you don't anything about the Fourth of July. Besides, it doesn't matter anyways. There's no one even out here to kiss."
"I'm out here."
The tingling in Soldier's stomach came back very suddenly. He quickly turned back to his pile of fireworks and muttered, "It has to be a girl you idiot."
Demoman shrugged, and followed suit. Soldier hoped they could spend the rest of the time in silence, but not thirty seconds later he heard Demoman say, "Soldier, I think you've got a problem."
He was holding one of the fireworks already set up.
"What's wrong with it?" Soldier grumbled.
"It's got a second sulfur packet stuck tae the bottom. I think it was supposed tae be on this one." Demoman indicated to one of the duds Soldier had discarded during his triple check.
Now that he knew what he was looking for, Soldier could see Demoman was right: if that thing had gone off, the whole display would be one giant fireball. Soldier slapped himself mentally. How could he have missed that? If Demoman hadn't been here, he would have singlehandedly ruined the Fourth of July. Again.
Noticing Soldier's dejected look, Demoman put his hand on his shoulder. "Hey, dunnae worry 'bout it lad. 'S the only problem as far as I can tell. And now that we've fixed it, we can set 'em off!"
That cheered him slightly.
The two of them retreated to a safe distance, dragging the very end of the fuse. As Soldier plopped down in the grass, he stole a glance at the man beside him. He wished he could be the Demoman, able to put words together any which way and make people know what you meant. And he was so nice too. He had complimented Soldier's fireworks even when he made much better stuff on a daily basis. Without him, the whole night would have gone up in smoke.
Well…more than smoke. Soldier lit the fuse.
A few seconds of silence as the spark skittered toward its goal.
And then...
FRMMM!
The rocket shot up like a...well, like a rocket. It took three second to get to the height of its arc, at which point it shattered into a thousand golden stars, much brighter and more beautiful than the real stars behind it. A whoop came from the rest of the team, and then cheering as another went off. Soldier barely heard them. A third exploded, and it was like reliving that first time all over again: sitting in the park, in complete awe that something so magical could be happening right over his head. Maybe it didn't have the raw power of a real rocket, but damn. If it wasn't something...special.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt the need to tell someone, to cheer, or shout what he was feeling to the high heavens. He looked to the Demoman-
Who was much closer than he had been a second ago.
Demoman turned, and Soldier realized he had no idea what to say. They were less than a foot away from each other, and he could every detail in the other man's eye, now locked on his own. It was warm and brown, reflecting all the blues and yellows and golds that moved across the sky. The corners of Demoman's mouth twitched, and Soldier knew he was feeling it too.
Pressing their lips together felt like the most natural thing in the world. As a red rocket exploded above them, something else exploded at the back of Soldier's mind. It was like watching the fireworks only not because whenever he watched the fireworks he felt like he was in his own world, but this wasn't alone at all. This was give and take, mouth to mouth, Demoman tilting his head so their noses brushed and Soldier tasting the weak beer on his lips.
His eyes were closed. He opened them. The world was bathed in black, a time in between rockets.
As he pulled back from the kiss, he thought he might never have experienced anything more wonderful in his life. He didn't know if was Demoman or the fireworks or some combination of both, but he felt ridiculously alive.
A long fizzing explosion, and they were both immersed in green light.
Now he could see the other man, and a small tendril of doubt began worming inside him. Had that been okay? Something about this felt wrong, like he was about to mess up the night with another one of his stupid impulsive decisions. Demoman's face shifted from kindness to concern, sensing Soldier's uncertainty.
"Hey," the he said, forcing Soldier to look at him. "That was just for luck, right?"
He was raising and eyebrow at Soldier, as though trying to communicate something through telepathy alone. Slowly, Soldier let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Yeah. Just for luck."
This was good. This was fine. He had kissed Demoman but that was okay because tonight was perfect and nothing could ruin something so brilliant. A white rocket exploded, giving birth to a dozen smaller ones that screeched as they petered into nothing.
Just for luck.
The seven mercenaries gave a round of applause as the finale began, their last two teammates watching in complete silence. Soldier scooted closer to Demoman, but not quite close enough to brush shoulders. This was fine.
In fact, this was perefect.
