"C'mon, please—!"
"If you ask me again I swear I'll rip your bloody tongue from your throat—!"
"C'mon, Jack! I heard our Soldier talkin' to your Demoman this mornin', they're goin' to Vegas together for their week off—!"
"Ain't that all just a field of posies—"
"C'mon—!"
"There's no way in Hell I'm cartin' your arse to Vegas—!"
"I don't even wanna go to Vegas, let's just go somewhere—!"
"No!"
"Please—?!"
"I can hardly stand ya when on duty, y'can't expect me t'tolerate you durin' unpaid leave—!"
"I sure do, and I ain't lettin' up 'til you gimmie a yes—!"
"Then you're gonna be waitin' your whole damn life for that one, daisy!" Sniper chuckles gravely, peering over his sunglasses to complete the solemn glare he flashes Scout.
"Hope you're more patient than I know ya t'be, love," Even the sympathy etched into his tone does little to mask the laborious sigh he releases at the young man's insistence, his hand still swiping the rag in clockwise motions along the small counter he'd been cleaning since the Scout's initial arrival.
"Why not?!" Scout finally huffs, his fists balled, his eyes wide and unwavering as they shine with inquisitive fury, his bottom lids puffed and glistening with the waves of frustration that threaten to spill from their edges, a characteristic left over from his feral, argumentative tactics of his childhood.
"Oh, here come the crocodile tears—!"
"I AIN'T CRYIN'—!" the Bostonian quickly denies, his lips still puckered in a childish disapproval, his face scrunched under the influence of moody disappointment, red and wrinkled like withered fruit. Sniper can't help but chuckle just a bit at the image of the young man as he stands with his arms folded, face red and lips pursed, like an overgrown toddler whose face is steeled in an effort not to submit himself to the throws of an all out tantrum.
"I know y'can get a little pouty, but Good Lord, mate, you're not usually this whiny—"
"Hey fuck you, wombat! Maybe I just wanna spend some time with ya—!"
"I'm sorry, Lawrence, but I really just don't think it's a good idea," Sniper mutters, his voice quiet and sincere as, for a brief second, he puts all haughty teasing aside.
"'S not that I don't want to spend time with you, 's just I know nothin' good would come out of it—'nd you know I like my alone time—"
"Are you kiddin' me?! You act like you're takin' a fuckin' Kindergartner on a field trip! Fuckin' 'nothin' good would come outta it'—What's the worst that could happen—?!"
"Our teams—or God forbid the bloody Administrator—find out we're drivin' about—"
"Oh come on, everyone on our team knows Tavish and Jane are best friends—!"
"'Nd the Administrator's constantly tryin' to get them killed 'cause of it! Might not appear so obvious like she's slippin' poison in their whiskey, but come on, all those contests she sponsors between 'em, or the weapons they're always gettin' that're effective against the other specifically; I don't want her draggin'er attention onto ya, tryin' t'do you in 'cause you wanna go on a bloody roadtrip with me! Or else we could have our contracts terminated, we're dishonourably discharged without pay on account of treason—and even then we'd be damn lucky we weren't court marshalled—!"
"So you'd rather keep this fuckin' mercenary shit up than spend time with your own—your own—?!" Scout reddens as he stumbles on his own words, his flustered uneasiness only furrowing his brow and aggravating him further.
"Oh grow up, it's a Hell of a lot more complicated than you're makin' it sound—"
"Don't seem that hard to understand to me, wombat—I feel like if you offered to take a vacation with me I'd say yes—not like you're offerin', though—!"
"Nope—!"
"Maybe I'll go ask Tavish and Jane if I can spend my leave with them, then—!"
"That sounds like a bloody swell idea, it'll get you off my back—!"
"You'll be losin' your chance to spend it with me, though—!"
"D'aww, y'see the tears streamin' out my eyes, love—?"
"Don't be an ass, Snipes—!"
"I'm still sayin' no, Scout—!"
"You jerk—!"
"Scout—"
"Some friend you are—!"
"Scout—!"
"After all we been through, though—!"
"After all of it—"
"Jane and Tavish are goin'—don't see why we can't—!"
"Because you're a childish, careless little git who doesn't think things through—!"
"What's there to think about—?!"
"Where we'd go, how we'd do it without makin' it clear as day we're takin' time off together—!"
"We don't have to be obvious about it though, and I swear I won't say nothin' to nobody—I'm not sayin' we gotta go to Vegas—"
"Good, 'cause even if I did consider takin' you with me next week, Vegas would not be on the to-do list—you'd probably get lost or somethin' equally inane—"
"Hey, I ain't no fuckin' toddler, Snipes—!"
"Well, sure is news to me—!"
"You mean you been kissin' a toddler on and off this last year and a half?"
He got him; the comment had worked to stun the older Australian of his words, the Bostonian raising a sly eyebrow and curling his lips into a mock disgusted grimace.
"'Cause that's certainly what you're implyin' over there, ya sicko—!"
Scout laughs heartily as Sniper pinches the bridge of his nose, bringing his glare and dropping his voice into a serious growl that proceeds to erase the smirk off the younger man's face.
"I'm not a bloody pervert, Scout—now I suggest y'listen up nice 'nd good, because I won't be repeatin' myself once I've said it, dinky di,"
Scout doesn't even breathe, he fears missing even a word the Australian prepares to utter. The camper van grows quiet, almost as if the air itself knows it would be quite wise to shut up and listen to what the marksman has to say.
"You'd do best to make your own plans for next week, because I'm not takin' you with me—don't give me that pathetic look—"
"Pardon the interruption, dingo, but I don't understand how this is any different from Tavish and Jane—they're friends, they're on opposite teams, and yet I don't see them actin' like it's some huge ass forbidden thing for two friends to spend time together—"
"We're a bit more than friends, Scooter—Sorry if the thought strikes ya funny," Sniper grumbles, Scout saying nothing, but visibly perturbed at the man's word choice.
"...I don't see how what we are makes a difference for real, though, it's not like anyone knows we even know each other like that to begin with— even the Administrator knows that Tavish and Jane are always together—why else would she go through all the trouble to turn 'em against each other like that?!" Scout asks reasonably.
"The only reason y'can even use that as an argument is 'cause I brought it up—"
"As long as it don't interfere with our jobs, I don't think the old hag gives a shit what we do with a fuckin' week's free time,"
"Dunno if you've had enough healthy friendships t'know this outright, but friendships between two civilians 're pretty time consumin'; two enemies at war, well, I'd say a distinct like for ya kinda gets in the way o'me killin' ya like my job calls for..."
"Well that's just too bad, ain't it?! Cuz I'm sure we've been friends for two and a half fuckin' years now, whether you wanna admit it or not—!" Scout snaps, leaving his Sniper to mumble darkly under his breath.
"'S not me that has the issue with acceptin' the extent of relationships I may or may not have with certain people..."
"You implyin' I got an issue, Snipes?! 'Cause I bet my fist would clear that shit up real fast,"
"This is why I never let you through the bloody door—!"
"Our freakin' Pyro's goin' bungee jumpin'—what if the guy comes back missin' his arms or somethin'?!—what would piss you off more—your client comin' back and missin' his fuckin' head or two people that were already involved to begin with enjoyin' one of the few moments they have to just be together without havin' to cover it up or try to kill each other?!"
Sniper rolls his eyes, allowing Scout to continue nonetheless.
"I don't want to risk makin' the bat mad, is all—I'd never forgive myself if somethin' happened t'you because of it—I mean, don't you have your family?! You last saw them for leave after your first six months, no?! Why in the Hell would you want to go with me when you haven't seen your poor mum or your brothers in nearly two years—!"
"I ain't got money for that, Snipes..." Scout mumbles, his voice cracking a little bit, the young man pouting silently.
"It ain't like I don't wanna see 'em—I love my family, ya know?! But I don't have enough—I don't make as much as you, bein' a newer recruit and all that shit—I was hopin' to save up money through Spring, maybe go back to Boston then..."
"Oh, for Christ's Sake, you mean you were plannin' on stayin' here in 2fort for leave?!" Sniper snaps, as if he can barely take the guilt.
"I mean—I was hopin' to spend it with you—that way I wouldn't be stuck here and alone, and I'd be with you at the same time..." his eyes widen curiously, the edge of pride and self assurance stripped away from his careful whisper. "Otherwise I'd be the only one left in 2fort..."
"Oh bloody Hell, Lawrence," Sniper growls, folding his arms and glaring moodily at the bruenette.
"...What sorts o'places did you have in mind?"
"None, I was willin' to go wherever you were gonna go,"
"I hadn't really thought about it—I mean I guess I had some ideas—was thinkin' 'bout drivin' the van up north to see the mountains—but overall nothin' too excitin', I don't need the adventure,"
"Neither do I!"
"'Nd I certainly don't need t'be takin' you anywhere where you'd manage to bugger things up—"
"So you are takin' me—?!"
"I haven't said that yet, Scout, don't get too cozy with the idea..."
But Scout nearly jumps into the man's arms, wrapping his own so they sneak their way around his chest, resting his head on his friend's shoulder. Sniper grimaces at his own inability to resist him, grumbling somewhat as he meets Scouts's hopefully expectant eyes.
"I haven't decided if I want t'take you, boyo, so don't act like you've won just yet,"
"C'mon, Snipes..." Scout grins, Sniper letting a hand trail through the exposed light brown hair.
"Gah," he scoffs, and he feels Scout fall closer against him, and, almost as if the two were directly proportionate, feels his resolve crumbling away the tighter their embrace gets.
"Y'have t'promise me not t'tell anyone—"
"Of course—!"
"You have t'promise t'behave yourself—"
"Got it—!"
"When I tell you t'do somethin', it'd be in your best interest to bloody well do it,"
"Sounds kinda kinky—!"
"And if—or when is more like it—you start gettin' annoyin', I reserve the right t'put your arse outside—"
"We're gonna have fun! Nobody'll be sleepin' outdoors!"
"Now, have you been up to see the mountains before?"
"Nah, we'd always just stayed in Boston, for real—"
"Then it'll be new territory for both of us, so I'm not takin' any detours or lettin' you out of my sight—"
"I ain't no baby, Snipes—!"
"I mean don't go wanderin' off into the forest and fallin' or gettin' lost—"
"You spend all your time in the wild, it ain't no big deal!"
"Exactly—don't go off alone, because if you get hurt and I don't know where you are..."
"I won't leave your van without permission!"
"Promise me?"
"Whatever you say, champ!"
"Now I think we can have a real nice time t'gether, love," Sniper smiles at the young man he still holds in his arms. "So don't make me regret this,"
"So you are takin' me?!" Scout asks brightly. "I won't," Scout corrects himself quickly, flashing him a nervous smile as he catches sight of Sniper's slight scowl.
"And I won't tell nobody, either! I'll tell 'em I'm goin' to visit Gran or somethin' if someone asks,"
Scout plops down on a chair near the sink, looking up at Sniper, who leans with his back against the counter. Scout watches as he casts a look out the window, his brow furrowed as he thinks of more 'warnings' for him to heed.
"Be dressed for the weather—just 'cause it's warmin' up a bit, doesn't mean it can't get nippy out there,"
"Yeah, yeah, whatevah, Ma—"
"You might wanna pack a colourin' book for the drive up, too,"
"Don't own a single one, Snipes—besides, it ain't like I got crayons!"
"And most of all, don't go thinkin' I broke down—I'm only lettin' you tag along 'cause I'd be a terrible—er—friend if I let you spend your leave alone," Sniper scoffs, Scout letting his eyes fall quickly to the hands folded neatly in his lap so as to avoid the scathing, critical narrowness of his friend's eyes.
"You're lucky I ain't heartless enough t'leave ya behind,"
"I think it's real nice o'ya, wombat," Scout huffs as if the wall of breath worked as a buffer between any sort of gratitude that could be misconstrued as—God forbid affectionate or doting. He gives Sniper a soft nod, who waves a hand of dismissal.
"My only bloody two weeks o'peace..."
"You did break down, slugger, for me," he continues, Sniper shaking his head solemnly and turning his back to Scout.
"Thanks..." Scout whispers in a voice held back by restraint, careful still to convey his sincerity without being too weepy. He couldn't stand it, girls who got weak kneed over meaningless gifts or half hearted compliments (that their boyfriends only saved in hopes for wooing the girl for sex, anyway). He wasn't about to make an exception for this particular standard, either-there was no way he was going to turn into an ass kisser over Sniper; it went against everything he stood for.
"It's fine, boyo, now quit with the googley eyes," Snipee hisses from the corner of his mouth, igniting the cigarette his curled lips hold onto, shaking the match to extinguish it.
"I ain't gettin' googley eyed-"
"God, I'm gonna need a drink b'fore this one..."
"I promise we'll have a good time!" Scout beams, Sniper's eyes narrowing behind his lenses, his growing smile only underlying the small chuckle that heaves his chest. He had to admit, it did hurt him just a bit that Sniper seemed completely unentertained about the thought of spending the next two weeks with him.
"Well I suggest you get packin', love, 's already Friday and I'm leavin' here Sunday," Sniper warns, Scout's eyes watering as the smoke itches at them harshly.
"So meet me out here Sunday mornin' 'round seven or so; don't go 'round shoutin' from the rooftops we'll be togetha like a—"
"No problem! Why in the Hell would I ever wanna admit to people I was hangin' out with your creepy ass?!" Scout beams, Sniper's devilish grin growing wider at Scout's quick insult.
"'S a good point,"
"Alright, I guess I'ma go get packin' then," Scout nods, casting a glance at the still smoking Australian.
"Good idea—I'll see you out," Sniper stretches, his thin legs carrying him with the same predatory lightness that made him soundless, lethal...
It creeped Scout out, that was for sure, considering the Australian was still technically his enemy; that a tall, well built man could cloak his own tracks, shade away his mass, and yet it was only one shot it took, one still second, and your blood was spilled according to the pull of just one of his fingers...
Scout hated thinking about it. He felt kinda bad for his team, 'cause they were the ones that had to deal with him for real...
"Alright, go on off love—I'll see ya in a couple days," Sniper whispers, cracking the door to the van, the interior instantly glowing orange from the sundown's influence.
"I'd plant one on ya, but I ain't a fag," Scout waves quickly before tearing off toward the base, Sniper shaking his head as he watches the young man's sprint weave in a red tinted blur toward the metallic base lying off in the distance.
"Bloody mutant," Sniper mumbles, twisting the knob his hand encases, turning to seek the warmth of the van that otherwise protected him from the wind of a bitter early Spring.
"I really gotta learn how to say no to ya..." he grins, sighing pleasantly at the newfound quiet that echoes throughout the van.
"If you knew 'is mozher, you'd see just where 'e gets 'is irresistibility from—"
"GAAH!" Sniper yelps, staggering behind him, the clash of lamps and tables bumping against the wall startling the man who stands in the corner.
"Calm down, calm down—!"
"What in the bloody Hell 're you' doin' here, Luc—?!"
"I suppose you would want an explanation for why I'm sitting uninvited in ze corner of your 'umble abode—"
"Do tell!" Sniper snarls, the shock of the towering man's form never ceasing to catch his 'visitors' off guard. "Why in the Hell—or rather how—did you come slitherin' in here, eh?!" Sniper attempts a nonchalant lean against the wall, his shaky breath still hinting at a nervous, fast pacing heart.
"I am a spy, Jack, granting myself entry—"
"More like breakin' in, you bloody—!"
"I can assure you I 'ad zhe purest of intentions—intentions I will gladly share wizh you should you pay me a listen—spare a cigarette, mon Ami?" Spy lifting a hand and catching the almost empty carton Sniper tosses the serene man.
"I was simply curious as to why BLU's Scout would be in such a joyful rush to our dear marksman's setup'—I figured it wouldn't hurt to follow 'is tail, make sure 'e wasn't planning anyzhing malicious against my comrade," Luc grins, his cheeks round with a dashing smile behind the balaclava that conceals his identity as always.
"I saw zhe grin, and I know zhat smile quite well, mon Ami—and anytime I've seen it, it never meant any good—"
"Whose smile?!"
"Lawrence's of course,"
Sniper's brow turns inward as he lets the flow of the man's name register within the eye of his mind.
"How d'you know his name—?!"
"I could ask you zhe same question, mon Petit..."
"So you know the gremlin too, then?! How—?!"
"Is zhat jealousy I 'ear, Jack?!" Luc darts his eyes so they bore into those of the man across from him, his suited shoulders heaving with gentle laughter.
"You 'ave nothing to worry about—I'm zhirty years older zhan Lawrence—nearly twenty zhan yourself—I can assure you I'm not after eizher of you..." the Frenchman can't help but smile at the silent relief that plays across his comrade's face.
"Not zhat age seems to play a role in your judgment, Jack—"
"What is it you're implyin' here, Frenchie—"
"Is 'e not too young for you—?!"
"Oi, I ain't a kiddie diddler, if that's where you're gettin' at! He's twenty four'nd old enough to decide who he wants to snog 'round here—plus I'd never do anythin' with him he didn't want—! 'Nd 's not like it matters, we're not even together—!"
"No, no, you misunderstand me, cher—I simply meant zhat per'aps you're just a bit older zhan Lawrence—twelve years, is it?! It is more a question of maturity on zhe brat's end—certainly 'e must drive a level headed man such as yourself crazy—"
"He can be a ruddy handful, but I ain't his babysitter, either—"
"Zough it surprises me to 'ear you are not togezher? Your interaction wizh eachother would certainly 'int ozherwise..."
"Oi, 's a bit confusin; Kid's got the hots for me, y'know? I'd be downright lyin' if I said I wouldn't do terrible things to 'im, if ya catch my drift—but it just wouldn't be right, he's no idea what he wants—he said once a long time ago that he wanted, y'know, the whole deal, but y'can't just shove your hand down a bloke's pants'nd say you're not a fag 'cause you don't lovehim; mongrel's completely disillusioned, 'nd I'd rather not make anythin' official with him 'til he sorts himself the fuck out..." Sniper explains, and Luc nods softly, Sniper's subconscious release of pent up aggravation over the whole situation not slipping unnoticed.
"If you zhink you 'ave a stressful relationship with 'im, try being the boy's stepfazher—"
"Stepfather—?!"
"Naturally, Jack! I've been wizh 'is mozher fifteen years now—! I'm shocked it comes as such a surprise to you, zhough it would figure 'e wouldn't mention it—'e prefers to pretend I do not exist—Still, I would zhink 'e would 'ave told you, what wizh you being 'is boyfriend'—"
"Oi, I wouldn't call the little git my boyfriend, Luc—!"
"A rose by any ozher name would smell just as sweet—or somezhing to zhat liking—it matters little what you call yourselves—"
"I'm familiar with Shakespeare, Luc, cut the bullshit," Sniper only glaring as the Frenchman laughs that same gentle, amused chuckle.
"Pardon if I've touched a nerve, I am only making an attempt at 'umour—zhough it does not appear to 'ave worked—besides, I'd always been one to assume bushmen weren't ones for literature! Zhough you two really aren't much different from zhe ozher—per'aps it was a perfect match indeed..."
"I'm nothin' like the wanka!" Sniper pouts, Luc crushing the barely lit filter into an ash tray and giving the man his full attention.
"It is beside zhe point—zhe point being zhat I found it all so interesting zhat Lawrence would want to visit you—what business did he have wizh our Sniper?! I snuck in be'ind zhe boy as you let 'im in, and I sat in zhe corner, intrigued by zhe cross factioned friendship unfolding before my very eyes! 'Course when I saw zhe way your knees sank for him, I knew it was much more zhan friendship we were dealing with..." Luc ignores the dissaproving grunt echoing from Sniper.
"But it was a shocking zhing to see nonezheless—Lawrence 'ad never mentioned or shown signs of a—er, friendship— or even knowing you! And whenever 'is mozher or myself would ask about any special friends, 'e would tell me to 'fuck off' and turn red! I figured it was because 'e was a virgin—"
"He bloody well could be, I haven't buggered him!"
"'Ow long 'ave you two been—well, 'ow long 'as Scout been trying to—I 'ave no idea what you would call 'is actions—trying tokiss you, I suppose..."
"What, 't's been about a year 'nd a half?! Not too long—gremlin must've had his first mission 'bout three years ago—was when I first saw his arse scurryin' 'cross the field 'nd sneakin' about in my tree..."
"Ah yes, your apple tree, non...?"
"Yeah; found the stupid little shit stealin' my apples! Caught'im 'nd he damn near took off when I was done with'im. Next thing I know, we're runnin' into each other on the battlefield 'nd stuff..."
"You're a strong willed man, Jack," Luc grins, darting his eyes so they flash slyly at Sniper before back to his cigarette.
"What d'you mean?!"
"Certainly you want to touch 'im, yet you've managed to refrain from doing so—"
"Hey, I actually care about him, he was never just a bugger buddy—'nd it was him that came onto me—tried my best to convince him I wasn't worth it, that I was no good for 'im," Sniper grumbles, shaking his head and giving his hand a slight twitch of disbelief.
"Y'save the kid once and then he's followin' you around; seriously, the first time I saved 'im he was always findin' me at the nest or in the camper. Save 'im a second time, 'e's your best friend; save 'im a third, well, he wants t'bugger ya,"
"Oh, I see—so 'e's been asking you for sex?!"
"I mean, well—yeah, 'nd I've been tryin' for the longest t'convince 'im that fallin' for me would only get 'im hurt, but we've only been gettin' closer, Luc, 'nd then I find that I'm the one that can't help but..." Sniper clears his throat, breaking eye contact and letting his fingers strum quietly along his knees. "It's gettin' harder, Luc; he's not ready for any o'this, but if he keeps askin', I might no be able t'resist'im much longer..."
"You love 'im?" Luc grins at Sniper's hesitant expression, his muscles taught behind the barely noticeable nod he gives the man seconds later.
"More than I could ever tell 'im—which is probably why I don't—he'd flip a shit if I said that sort o'thing to'im, like he was catchin' the gay, or somethin' equally bloody stupid. I'd do anythin' for Lawrence, I really would..." Sniper's low growl, Luc can't help but observe, is stroked with a tender affection most unexpected from the rugged hunter.
"...not that the bloody hooligan needs to know..."
"I find it so strange—you 'ave a problem wizh beginning a real romantic relationship wizh 'im, yet you admit outright zhat you love 'im?"
"I love'im, sure, but I ain't serenadin'm or writin' the bugger love letters, 'specially not if it would distance'im from me..."
"No offense, Jack, but if you 'esitate only because you do not want to come to terms wizh your sexuality—zhere is no point in pretending—"
"Oi, I came to terms with myself twenty five years ago—'s him with the problem—always sayin' he's not a fag. Dunno what he thinks he is, always wantin' t'hump me like a rabbit—'s part'o why I don't get too schnoozy with'im, I don't wanna make him uncomfortable, right? What if it's all just a phase, like he sees me sexually 'cause o'the seclusion out here on the field—he has no idea who he is, 'nd I don't wanna do anythin' with him he'd just end up regrettin'..."
"Certainly it must 'urt for you to zhink zhe boy you love being intimate wizh you is somezhing 'e would later come to regret..."
"I—I—If he can tell me he loves me outright, no jokes, no sass, I'll think about it,"
"About what?"
"Makin' love t'him..."
"Hmm, sounds like somezhing straight out of a romance novel..."
"If I'm gonna be his first, 's gonna be when he's ready. He may not think much of it, but he doesn't understand that I really am in love with him, that there's no way I'd take somethin' like his virginity from him just 'cause he's horny—'course it just frustrates him, he doesn't quite get that askin' me for sex might mean he has a thing for men, so like Hell he'd ever say whether he loves me back or not,"
"It would figure zhe brat vould feel zhat way,"
"Hey, I cut'im some slack, 's not easy admittin' to yourself you like blokes—I don't wanna rush'im, 'specially not out here when we got other shit to worry about,"
"I see,"
"Imagine if you were his age, at war'n away from home—everyday could be your last, then your enemy, just one'o the nine out there to kill ya, becomes your best friend'n all of a sudden y'wanna kiss'im'n whatever else—then you gotta worry 'bout hushin' it all up so that your teams aren't accusin' ya of defectin'n choppin' your head off right there..."
"I still zhink zhe boy is not ready for any of zhis—zhe romance, zhe fighting, 'e 'as a lot of growing up to do—"
"Hey, where else is better for'im to grow up than here?!"
"You're quite avid about sticking up for Lawrence, aren't you?"
"I'm not just gonna let you sit here'n badmouth my Scout," Sniper chuckles, Luc rolling his eyes before smiling in a mock sweet adoration.
"I assume you're even more protective when it comes to someone making an attempt on 'is life?"
Sniper says nothing, but the uncomfortable shift and mumbling grunt is answer enough for the Frenchman.
"Touching, it really is—considering 'e is my stepson, I do my part to keep 'im safe too, but my mission still takes priority—you would do well to remember zhis, Jack—"
"'Course I do, that's Tavish and Jane that need the bloody lecture! I shoot the little bastard all the time when he gets too close, but they're nothin' lethal—Hell, you saw the way I tried to tell the weasel no about spendin' leave with me, that I want my time alone,"
"I also saw zhe way you went back completely on your stance as soon as 'e batted 'is eyelashes—"
"I'm not just goin' to leave 'im all by his lonesome in bloody 2fort! That's just cruel!"
"Zhe boy was fibbing just a tad, if I may say so," Luc beams, Sniper's brow furrowing from confusion.
"'E 'as zhe money to catch a train to Boston—'e simply doesn't want to because I too plan on visiting zhe lovely city next week,"
"His mother, no?"
"Correct—I can't say I don't understand, but it 'urt 'is mozher when 'e said 'e wouldn't be coming 'ome for leave,"
"I'd be squicked too if a sleazy Frenchman on the other team were datin' my mum—no offense,"
"None taken, 'tis a much milder insult zhan Lawrence will typically 'ave it—eizher way, I am shocked 'e 'as not told you about myself and 'is mozher—I'll most certainly be talking to 'im about you two..."
"Don't rile 'im up, though!"
"I just want to ask 'im why 'e never told me..."
"Aha—prolly 'cause he can't even tell me, Luc..."
"You two 'ide your emotions very well—"
"Yeah, the other option bein' discovered by the Administrator!"
"I can agree inciting 'er attention in such a situation would be most unwise—but would you two really be more open wizh affection if you didn't 'ave 'er to worry about?"
"Dunno, Luc—'s kinda hard bein' romantic with the bloody little mutant when he's callin' me old 'nd screamin' 'bout how he's not a fag..."
"Again, it is what leads me to question 'is maturity..."
"Oi, that's just who he is..."
"Yes, but 'is brothers all have long since taken my dating zheir mozher just fine—fifteen years and 'e still' be'aves like zhe ten year old monster 'e was'..."
"He's the baby of the family, he's probably just jealous of ya—imagine havin' six older brothers with girlfriends and then when it's finally your turn for the spotlight, your mum's all starry eyed over someone else! Bein' the gay brother I'm sure is hard for him to deal with—!"
"Zhen it is 'is own fault 'e is so 'urt—'is mozher loves all 'er sons very much, no matter what! We would accept 'im for 'is sexuality; all of us!"
"That don't mean shit if you can't accept it for yourself—trust me, I know, 'nd my parents weren't as open about it. But he's a sensitive bugger, even if he doesn't want you to think so..."
"Well it is glaringly obvious! Someone would do well to inform 'im,"
"The little bastard grows on you, he does," Sniper sighs, Luc standing up and flashing his comrade a dashing smile.
"Indeed; it was a nice chat, marksman," he nods in a tone of finality, checking the watch around his wrist. It was funny, Sniper never actually knew the damn thing told time.
"I will most certainly pay Lawrence a visit and tell 'im to mind 'is manners zhis week,"
"Don't give him too hard of a time, he beats himself up enough—I see it in 'im, poor thing..."
"Non, of course not—I'll not spoil all your fun," the Frenchman casts the Australian a departing nod, and in the brilliant flash of a dazzling smile he is nowhere to be seen. The door to the van opens, and the Spy can be neither seen nor heard in his departure.