Disclaimer: We do not own any of these characters. Snake (and all MGS characters) belong to Hideo Kojima, and Luis (and all RE characters) belong to Capcom.

Chapter 3: Get Ready, Luis!

Snake remained slumped in the back of the boat, brushing the remainder of tuna off of his leg. He caught another whiff of himself and scowled.

"Thanks a fucking lot, asshole," he grumbled to Luis, who was busy manuevering the ship between two rocks. He acknowledged Snake with a grunt.

"Someone's got a stick up their ass," he snapped back, then realized he was, for some reason, slightly thrilled by it. "We're almost there, so stop your moaning." Snake waited until Luis' back was turned to him again and proceeded to stick his tongue out childishly at him. He quickly retreated his tongue to back inside his mouth. Tuna! He hated the way tuna tasted. Luis had caught sight of Snake shamelessly displaying his tongue and cocked his head in Snake's direction. "Why don't you come over here and put your tongue to good use?" He slightly moved his chin toward a small brown box, which shifted and clinked in time with the waves. Snake, Solid Snake, who was still solid at the time, trudged his way over to the small box and quickly but delicately inserted his fingers inside. He felt something smooth, and cold. It was a whistle.

"What the fuck is this," he said, balancing it in his large palms. Luis tapped his pointer finger to his bottom lip and sort-of smiled.

"Blow it."

Snake didn't want to admit that he was hoping Luis would say that, so he shuffled about for a while until he finally wrapped his lips around the hard metal. Luis nodded slowly, his eyes tracing Snake's lips as they tightened around the whistle's head.

"Just blow it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Snake nodded. He was very familiar with working with objects such as this. With a sharp intake of air, Snake forced all the air he could muster through the whistle. The sound echoed for miles. Luis was obviously pleased; his finger remained on his lip, his smile growing much bigger. Snake removed the whistle from his mouth, licked his lips, and connected eyes with Luis. His lips curled downwards in disgust, tasting something not much better than tuna.

"Tastes like Aspartame," he complained. Luis cracked another smile.

"I always like it a little sugary on the bottom," Luis muttered, mostly to himself, but loud enough for Snake to hear. Snake made a mental note, then continued to look puzzled.

"Why the hell did I have to do that?" he asked, but before any answer could be formed, Snake felt a jerk and nearly lost his footing (something he usually is very good with). Luis offered his hand, using his free hand to gesture out into the blackness.

"We use that signal to let each other know we're coming," Luis stated as Snake gripped his hand who stumbled a bit, but not for long; Snake was a master at getting himself up in pressing circumstances such as this. Once he was fully erect, another wave of confusion passed over his face.

"We?" he echoed. Luis nodded vigorously, firmly grasping the steering wheel and twisting it sharply to the left (he always went a little more left than straight) knocked Snake right back into a position he was also familiar with. "What's all this 'we' stuff?"

Luis fingered the whistle Snake had dropped, and briefly considered blowing it himself. He knew damn well the whistle needed to be blown only once, but the thought of doing it thrilled him. He pressed it through his wind-blown lips and ran his tongue over it. It tasted like tuna. He hated the way tuna tasted. He immediatey spit it out (something that was very foreign to him) and shot a weak smile at Snake, who was still in a very compromising position.

"Are you going to tell me who else is on the inside with you?" Snake asked again, this time pounding his fists furiously on the wood. Luis acknowledged his pounding with a slight wince.

"You'll find out soon enough."