A/N: I'll be updating Work And Play on a regular basis along with my other RvB fanfic called Moments Like This. I don't have much else to say as I'm sadly not getting any feedback from any viewers. I'm starting to wonder if they are any RvB fans out there...

Disclaimer: I am not the owner of anything related to Red vs Blue as it is owned by Rooster Teeth.

Work And Play

By AngelEyes87

Chapter 3: Game

Suppressing a sigh, Simmons made his way up from the computer simulation room to the entrance of the Red Base at Valhalla. After an exhausting two hours he managed to upgrade the guns mechanism of the Warthog. Not only that, but he had a few words with the holographic version of Sarge.

It was considered highly pathetic that a smart and resourceful soldier like Simmons was reduced to pouring his emotions to a virtual reality person. What would he be capable of doing next? Talking to his reflection in the mirror?

Simmons frowned at the possible idea that he was slowly going insane. He had to stay strong in order to keep Grif in line. If it weren't for Simmons being there, then undoubtedly things will start to spiral out of control. Most probably resulting in Grif getting shot in the face multiple of times by Sarge.

His trail of thoughts were interrupted by a heavy coughing fit nearby. The noises alone sounded as if someone was choking on something. Eventually curiosity won over and Simmons followed the direction of where it was coming from. Simmons turned the corner of the base only to discover Grif casually leaning up against the wall with a cigarette poised in his hand. The tell-tale smoke seeped out from Grif's helmet into the air.

"Grif! What have I told you about smoking inside your fucking helmet?" Simmons scowled, watching with satisfaction as the orange soldier jumped a foot high. "The last time you done that you managed to fry some of your computer functions."

Grif threw the cigarette to the ground, thereafter crushing it with his foot, muttering,"God, you're annoying. Can't you see I'm having my break, Simmons?"

"You've been on the same break for five hours, dumbass!"

"Like there's anything else left to do around here," Grif pointed out, stretching his arms. "Caboose is busy with his building a new best friend experiment. Donut is cleaning up the base and washing our clothes for us. Man, if he dares mixes his pink clothes with mine I'd be so pissed off."

"Well, go find something to do," suggested Simmons. "Keep yourself motivated for a change instead of being lazy per usual."

Grif laughed, a cunning idea already forming in his mind. In fact this was going to prove rather interesting in more than one way. A bewildered Simmons watched in silence as Grif strolled away, heading directly over to where Sarge was doing last minute improvements on Lopez.

"You mean to say you're taking my advice?" Simmons called out after him, stunned disbelief evident in his voice. Instead of responding, Grif ignored him. When he was within a few yards from Sarge he breathed in deeply before catching Sarge's attention.

"What do you want, dirtbag?" Sarge demanded gruffly. "You better make it quick otherwise poor Lopez here might shut down for good. Or he might self activated himself with an inbuilt bomb."

"The game," Grif simply announced, trying his best not to guffaw out loud.

"The game? What in Sam's hell? Grif, don't make me send you to rehab if you've been smoking this new age mumbo jumbo stuff. I think Donut has been right about you and your disgusting habits all along. No soldier of mine will be a mindless druggie!"

"When I say the game, the whole point is for you to say that you've lost," he explained. "Got it?"

Grif gulped when Sarge reached for his shotgun.

"Here's a new game. Run away while I shoot!"

A/N: I've been tempted to write this for such a long time now as I can easily imagine Sarge not understanding the rules of The Game. Oh, and all of you has just lost the game!