Out camping during a search mission is probably not the best time to be found in an awkward position after having a dream about one of your teammates.

Pairings Beyond Grimmons:

~Tuckington

Other Notes for This Story:

~Canon Divergent After Season 10

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue or any of the show's characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.

Awkward Camping Moments All Around

Grif couldn't help but groan, annoyed at himself for having another stupid dream about what had happened "in the shade" so long ago now.

They were happening frequently now, and at usually the worst possible times too. Really, how was a good-for-nothing slacker supposed to get any quality napping done when his mind kept drifting back to the one proverbial elephant in the room?

He and Simmons were even closer now, but still. Neither of them had brought that incident up yet. In fact, it was the one topic they seemed to avoid at all costs.

For his part, Grif didn't actually bring it up because he had liked it way more than he'd initially care to admit. In all honesty, he thought about it so much now probably because he just wanted it to happen again.

But, there was always the possibility that Simmons never mentioned it because he felt the exact opposite. That was something Grif never wanted to figure out for sure, so he kept his damn mouth shut.

Just like a punch to the balls from a black-armored Freelancer chick, the dreams seemed to keep happening just to spite him.

Stupid fucking dream! Stupid fucking Simmons!

The "pillow" he'd had his arms around wriggled slightly in response to the squeezing pressure he'd applied to it out of frustration. Grif suddenly froze, remembering that pillows technically didn't wriggle. Unless someone was playing a cruel practical joke and put bats in his pillowcase, but no one was that monstrous.

Then he remembered about the whole stupid search mission for Lopez, Donut, and Caboose they were on since the trio hadn't come back in the Warthog yet. He recalled how Washington had suggested earlier that the rest of them should all get a few hours of sleep before they continued on with the search.

Oh, shit, don't tell me!

His eyes cracked open slightly, only to be met with a pretty solid view of the back of maroon armor.

Fucking kill me.

So, not only had he had that dream again, but he'd also been in his goddamned sleep fucking spooning Simmons while doing so!

His groggy brain was refusing to process this turn of events fully. So, when Simmons moved again to lean further into Grif's side, the only conscious thought beyond sheer panic that Grif now had was that he was grateful that Washington and Sarge, in their usual paranoid states of mind, had both insisted that they all sleep fully-armored.

Quick! Think of a fucking way out of this!

Simmons moved again, and Grif winced at his own reaction as his arms encircled his teammate even more securely.

Don't even start thinking about somehow having babies with Simmons right now, brain!

"Geeze, don't you two ever give it a rest?"

A teal helmet suddenly loomed in his vision, and Grif could hear the amusement in Tucker's voice as he continued: "I'd say get a room, but it doesn't look like not having one has ever stopped you before."

Suddenly forgetting all about the situation he was in, Grif disengaged his arms from around Simmons and leapt up, "Says the guy who has his own rock?"

"Ow! What the fuck, Grif?!"

Simmons woke up at the pushing and glared angrily at his comrade. The redhead hadn't known what had actually happened, so all he surmised from his rude awakening was that Grif was being his rude asshole self and had just pushed him when he woke up for some reason.

Grif silently hoped it stayed that way, mentally cursing Tucker if he spoke too much on the subject.

"Hey, at least my rock is private." Tucker seemed to take the bait, "Your sister didn't mind it much."

"What the fuck did you just say about my sister?"

Grif's embarrassment over waking up as he did was suddenly forgotten while Simmons looked on at the current exchange in bleary-eyed confusion.

"Quit yer yapping, dirtbags!" Sarge entered the fray, having been awake before everyone else save for Washington. Thankfully though, he'd been off keeping an eye on the vehicles and cleaning his shotgun, only coming back to the campsite when the shouting had started, "How are we going to get the drop on the enemy if your shouting gives away our position?"

"First of all, there is no enemy. The morons just got themselves stuck out here somewhere." Tucker replied as everyone's attention started to focus once more on the reason they were here to begin with, "Secondly, how would your shouting at us to stop shouting not give away our position either?"

"Yells of respected authority carry differently than petty bickering. Everyone knows that!" Sarge harrumphed matter-of-factly.

"Everyone knows you're full of it." Grif muttered under his breath.

Sarge glared at him, quickly aiming his shotgun at his subordinate, "What was that, Grif?"

"Everyone knows you're full of it, sir."

The shotgun lowered and the old man nodded his head appreciatively, "Damn straight." He said, "Now hurry up and get ready. You're riding with Simmons again."

"Bet you love that." Tucker mumbled jokingly as Grif walked past him.

"Just as much as you love riding behind Washington." The orange-armored soldier responded.

Tucker didn't respond, but if his helmet hadn't been on Grif would have probably seen an awkward blush on his face.

Truthfully, while sharing vehicles was a pain, particularly for Simmons and Tucker since they had to piggy-back with their designated partners, at least no one had to deal with Sarge and his shotgun as backseat drivers since he claimed the remaining Mongoose as his own due to seniority.

Grif in particular felt he'd dodged a bullet there. Quite literally, in fact, since Sarge's comments on driving usually were punctuated by bullets.

Washington was already sitting on the Mongoose when everyone beyond Sarge groggily moved into place.

He raised an eyebrow questioningly at Tucker when he came over, asking, "Do I even want to know what all that shouting was about?"

Tucker answered him with a question of his own, glancing at the Red Team members as they took their places once again, "Let me put it this way, Wash, did you really want to know what I wear to bed at night?"

Well, that answered that question pretty succinctly. Washington honestly could have done without knowing that not only did Tucker sleep in the nude, but that he also liked to get up to make late-night snacks as well. Truthfully, the former Freelancer still had a hard time sometimes eating sandwiches because of the mental image they brought to mind, as well as the odd feeling he had that caused his cheeks to heat up and his heart to race a bit more than he'd like to admit picturing said image.

"I see your point."

"I still don't get what happened earlier." Simmons muttered to Grif as he waited for the other man to get onto their designated Mongoose before hopping on himself.

"Nothing." Grif quickly covered up, looking directly in front of him and not at Simmons, "I didn't realize you were that close to me when I woke up. Sorry for pushing you. I guess."

"You guess?" Simmons sighed and got behind Grif, awkwardly fidgeting at the proximity and thankful that he had put on his helmet to keep his reddening face from showing.

Grif tried to ignore the memories that the heat at his back was bringing up just then, especially with everyone else around them currently.

Right now they needed to focus on finding the three dumbasses who had gotten themselves lost, and make sure they weren't hurt. If they weren't, then they'd possibly hurt the trio themselves for making all of them go out of their way to find them.

Grif figured all of these dreams and close instances were maybe a sign he'd have to be proactive and deal with whatever it was that was going on between him and Simmons sooner rather than later.

Especially since that had probably been the best fucking sleep he'd had in a long time.

Author's Notes: This was another part of that Canon Divergent from Season 10 fic I had been attempting to write! You can pretty much view this one and the two previous one shots as actually being loosely connected, as in the original version the "in the shade" part was a dream sequence that went into this part where everyone is looking for Lopez, Caboose, and Donut after they took the Warthog out for their driving lesson.

Suffice it to say, Wash's sentiment that Caboose shouldn't be allowed to drive just yet still stands for a while following this whole experience. XD