TF2 Drabbles: Spy - Prefer a Bed to Myself

Summary: Not Enough Beds, but one character consistently finds/improvises something else to sleep on rather than share.

~

The motel was dingy and awful all by itself but the added horror of there being only two rooms available – totaling three beds as only one room had two – to split between all nine of them was the final nail in the coffin for it earning the title of Spy’s least favorite place on Earth. Sniper, as always, claimed the camper van’s bed first. A claim Spy couldn’t contest as the van belonged to Sniper. Unlike last time they’d encountered such a problem, other accommodations were unfortunately not available.

“You can sleep with me and Engie,” Pyro volunteered with a raised hand. “I don’t mind sleeping at the foot of it.”

“Thanks, but no. It’d still be far too crowded.”

“Ooh, ooh, I will take you up that,” Scout said, drawing Spy’s attention to the room’s entrance as he reentered it. “Soldier gets cuddly when he sleeps and it’s about a fifty/fifty on whether he ends up cuddling me or Demo and it’s weird.”

Soldier marched in behind him, wearing pajamas that were a size or two too small. “There is nothing weird about cuddling, maggot. It might even save your life one day. If you’re really such a coward though…” he approached Spy and clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to hurt a little, “you, sir, can join us instead. I promise I will keep you warm in the dead of night.”

Spy grabbed his hand and moved it off his shoulder. “No thanks. I would prefer a bed to myself.”

Engie, already seated on one of the beds scoffed. “Unless ya mean to break into someone’s home and sleep in their guest bed, I don’t think that’s gonna happen tonight.”

“Hmm… that’s not a bad idea actually.” Chances of anyone having a nice guest room in this wretched little town were low but anything was better than sharing a bed with two other people in this dirty motel.

Engie raised an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose long as you don’t get caught, it’s fine.”

“I assure you, that won’t be problem.” To prove his point and for dramatic effect, he activated his invis-watch.

Scout made a wordless noise of exaggerated disgust and disapproval. “Fucking asshole.” He was jealous that Spy would have his own bed tonight while he had to share.

TF2 Drabbles: Scout - Stupid Like That

Summary: Replying to a relative’s letter after far too long.

~

The letter was still there on Scout’s desk, held in place by the snow globe paper weight Ma had gotten him for Christmas the prior year. Next to it, its corner under that same snow globe paper weight, was the reply. Bereft of words other than the opening, it was a constant reminder of his inability to just sit down and write a simple letter. … Or no, not constant, as soon as he left the room he’d forget about it again. Out of sight, out of mind.

Gritting his teeth, he sat down and pulled it over. He knew what he wanted to say so it shouldn’t be so hard. Words, writing and reading, always were though. He was stupid like that.

Rooting around in the desk drawers eventually produced a pencil. Broken and unusable. With a sigh, he continued searching. He had a sharpener somewhere, right? Where? Had he taken it out? Forgotten it elsewhere?

The drawers were mostly full of papers. Other letters, only some of them replied to, and loose paper he’d sketched or intended to sketch on. Another thing he’d been meaning to do for a while was organize it but of course still hadn’t gotten to. Leaving him with no choice but to search through it until he found a pen. Pulling it out, he scribbled on one of those loose pieces of paper. … Dead and dry, it left not even a single ink mark on the page. How long had it been in there for? Probably ages.

With a groan, Scout slammed the drawer closed once more before standing. He’d borrow a pen or pencil from someone and then answer the letter later tonight. And then tomorrow he’d clean up his desk. For now though, he had better things to do. The reply was already late after all and it wasn’t like he could immediately send it off anyway. So really what harm was putting off writing it just a little longer do?

TF2 Drabbles: RED Demo/BLU Soldier - Shitty Wizard

Summary: Part 1 (Technically 2) Demoman reconcile with Blu Solider
Part 2 (Or this can be mash/mixed with part 1) Soldiers talks with demo about magic (This can go either two ways, 1 Soldier knows absolutely nothing about it and referes to it as “Brain Magic” or 2 Soldier surprisingly knows a lot about it, maybe even more then medic)

[A/N] A continuation of chapter 137.

~

“I didn’t call ya a civilian.” Demo had said as much before but it didn’t hurt to say it again because it remained just as true.

Soldier huffed and crossed his arms as he took a step back. He didn’t pull his rocket launcher back out though so he was still willing to listen. Given the fact that they were supposed to be fighting – key word being ‘supposed to’ because they were instead locked in a classic Tuefort stalemate – was saying something. Apparently maintaining the sewer room truce was still acceptable to him. “You did too. I saw the video.”

“It was a bloody fake. I told you that already.”

“Nope. I saw it with my own two eyes and heard it with my own two ears. Miss Pauling’s a true red blooded American, she wouldn’t lie to me.”

Upon that first being revealed, Demo had given up. Her involvement with Soldier too made things tricky largely in that it revealed why the intervention had been made in the first place. She was playing both sides and thus presumably so was the Administrator. Not super surprising but still also not something Demo wanted to poke at if he could help it. He had backup now though and Engie supposedly had an in with the Admin if he did get caught hanging out with the BLU Soldier again. Also there was additional motivation; the promised payment and a little bit of curiosity about the BLU Medic’s magics. Mostly it was about Soldier though. And so he didn’t back down this time.

“I never said she would.” Technically he hadn’t said that. If he did though, how likely was he could convince Soldier she was a liar? Maybe he could say she was a commie spy? That would probably cause all sorts of problems though when he inevitably accused her of it, ultimately resulting in all of this getting back to her.

“Are you saying she was tricked too?” Soldier’s face was unreadable, especially with the helmet overshadowing it, but for the first time he sounded open to the idea of hearing more.

“Aye. She was tricked too. I never called you a civilian. Someone wanted to separate us so they made a bloody fake video of me bad mouthing you and sent it Miss Pauling so she’d show it to you.”

“But who… Wait! Merasmus!” He drew his shotgun and looked around as if Merasmus might pop out at any second even though Halloween was months away.

Demo looked around too for a moment. No one was around. The sewer rooms weren’t exactly private but not many folk on either team really like to come down here. It wasn’t a proper sewer but that didn’t mean the water was particularity fresh or clean either. “You know Merasmus too then?”

“Correct! We were roommates for a little while. He hated me because he seemed to think I was responsible for his old castle getting overrun with raccoons. I have absolutely no idea where he got that idea from but he’s always had it out for me because of it.”

Wasn’t that what the RED Soldier had done? Roomed with Merasmus and then turned their shared castle space into a raccoon sanctuary. Had Merasmus really ended up rooming with BLU Soldier after and hadn’t realized he was a different person? Interesting.

“He would do something like this!” Soldier continued. “Shitty wizard! Come out Merasmus! We got a score to settle!” His shout echoed in the tunnels.

Naturally, there was no response. Merasmus wasn’t involved and was thus presumably wherever he went when it wasn’t Halloween time. No need to tell that to Soldier though because he finally believed Demo hadn’t called him a civilian.

“If you was roommates with a wizard, you know anything ‘bout magic?” Probably not but it didn’t hurt to ask.

Soldier looked back down at him. “Lots. Medic’s a wizard too so I’m technically still roommates with a wizard… sort of. Teammates anyway. He’s a better wizard than Merasmus ever was.”

“Interesting. Tell me more?” If he could get the info on BLU Medic’s magic from Soldier that would eliminate the need to sneak around and steal it.

“Hmm… good idea, soldier! That might draw out Merasmus.”

TF2 Drabbles: Engie & Scout - Ain’t Gonna Be There

Summary: One of the mercs declines to participate in a work social activity; everyone assumes they’re either upset/angry about something, protesting in some manner, or “socially overwhelmed” - nope, they just don’t find it interesting this year.

~

“What do you mean you’re not going to be there?” Scout asked.

“I mean, I ain’t gonna be there,” Engie replied. In the hopes of cementing that as the end of the conversation, he turned away to to resume his organization efforts. Chances were he wasn’t going to be getting his workshop perfectly organized but anything more than it was now would be an improvement.

“But it’s Thanksgiving! Basically everyone’s gonna be there and like half of them aren’t even American.”

Engie didn’t bother to turn to look at him as he replied. “Most of them are going for the alcohol and Sniper’s going ‘cause you two are practically dating at this point.“

“What? No we’re… it’s… shut up. It’s an American holiday and you’re American so you gotta come. Spy’s the only other one who said ‘no’. I guess he kinda gets a pass for being French or whatever but you really wanna be like him?”

The tool box made a loud thud and clatter as Engie dropped it on the work. He opened it to start taking stuff out. “Yup.”

“Why?”

“Just ain’t interested.” Like most Americans, he’d grown up celebrating it but it hadn’t meant much to him since childhood.

Scout was silent for several long seconds, long enough to almost give Engie hope of him having dropped it, only almost though. “Are you like mad at someone whose gonna be there and you don’t wanna be in the same room? Who is it? I won’t tell, promise.” A promise he wouldn’t keep because no one on the team could be trusted to keep team based gossip to themself for long.

“Nope. I just ain’t in the mood. Y’all have fun though.”

“Is it me then? What’d I do?”

“Nothing, I just got other stuff I’d rather be doing than sitting around eating food I don’t even particularly like.”

“Hmm… whatever, be weird then.” And with that Scout was finally leaving, pulling the door closed behind himself. Probably he would be back to pester Engie more later, possibly even day-of, but Engie would deal with that when and if it happened.

TF2 Drabbles Engie & Soldier - A Boy’s Name

Summary: scenario where engineer meets a former someone he used to know, except they look different. No longer the boney shy kid, but a muscular and hyper persom… they cant possibly be the same person…. right?

[A/N] I assume the commenter is thinking of Soldier. So I decided to write their first meeting as kids because it let me explore my headcanon that Soldier is a trans man and that his birth name is ‘Jane Doe’ and that he’s just comfortable with that name so he doesn’t change it. It’s a man’s name because he’s man, kinda thing.

Speaking of which though, I don’t know if this would be a problem for anyone but just in case, better safe than sorry and give a warning. It’s written from Dell’s POV (calling him that because he’s a kid here) who initially perceives Jane as a girl. And thus for the first half of the drabble he’s misgendered but it gets corrected without issue.

~

The playground was much the same as any of the others Dell had been too. Both in terms of the stuff to play on – swings, slide, monkey bars – and in the way the kids presently playing on it grouped up and excluded at least one kid. Said kid in this instance was seated one of the benches that the parents were supposed to sit on, seemingly watching the others play. That was perfect though because loners were easier to approach.

Dad had come here to make business connections and thus Dell should do the same. Its why Dad dropped him off at the playground; to socialize while he went and did job stuff with people. So, taking a deep breath, Dell walked over to the bench. “Howdy!”

Her hair was long and matted, hanging down enough to partially obscure her face as she looked up at him. “Hi.”

He lifted a hand for a business like handshake. If he was going to be like Dad and Grandpa one day, he needed to practice. “I’m Dell Conagher!”

She hesitated for a moment before accepting it. Her hand was thin, her grip soft. That was bad, right? Or maybe that’s how girls were supposed to do it. “Jane Doe. And um… it’s a boy’s name ‘cause I’m a boy.”

Dell looked him up and down again. “Why you dressed like a girl then?”

“’M’not. Boys can wear dresses.” He didn’t sound confident in that but well, it made sense, right? There was no logical reason why a boy couldn’t wear a dress if he wanted to.

“Okay. If you’re a boy though, when you shake someone’s hand you gotta do it harder. That’s what my Dad taught me. It’s a business thing.” Though what exactly that ‘business’ entailed, Dell still wasn’t allowed to know yet but hopefully one day soon he’d be trusted with it.

“Oh um… okay. Like… give me your hand.” Jane lifted his hand for another shake. Dell took it. This time Jane’s grip was more of a squeeze, tight enough to be almost painful. He shook Dell’s hand hard enough to jostle his arm up and down. “Like that?”

Taking his arm back, Dell nodded. “Yeah, like that.” Probably anyway. If a firm grip was good, a painful one had to be better, right? Because it was super firm.

Jane nodded. “Understood. Let’s play something.” He slid off the bench to stand next to Dell. Apparently they were friends now. Making business connections was easy.

TF2 Drabbles: Sniper - ‘Lost Tourist’

Summary: I do wonder how Sniper managed to work around not being good with people (maybe pretending to be a lost tourist with a very poor grasp of geography?).

[A/N] Sequel to chapter 131.

~

Sniper would only need to talk to anyone if they came out of the of house. How likely was that? Probably pretty low, it was late. He was just on look out mostly. Miss Pauling shouldn’t take long, meaning they’d both be out of here in almost no time. So it was fine.

The lights in the main house were on as he stepped around barn and into view of it. Its occupants were up and about but they should have no reason to step outside. All the farms animals seemed to have been put away for the night already after all. Sniper’s watch was just a precaution, a better safe than sorry thing. This was fine.

Except, almost as if summoned by that thought, the front door creaked open and a woman stepped out. There was no guarantee that she was headed to the barn to check on the pigs but if she was, they’d have to kill her. Which would result in more clean up and then possibly even more if anyone came looking for her. Such things could quickly build into a proper problem that would land him in trouble after Pauling told him to prevent such a thing. So instead of risking that, Sniper held back a groan as he stepped out of the barn’s shadow.

“Howdy, ma’am.” Except wasn’t ‘howdy’ specifically a Texas greeting? Engie was the only one he’d heard say it. How much did that kind of thing matter though? “I’m looking for the uh… Lady Liberty?” One of Soldier’s favorite things and presumably a big tourist destination so that made sense to look for. Did most people call it that though or was it just Soldier being weird and thus Sniper was now coming off as weird too? “I may have gotten a bit lost. Mind telling me where it… uh… she is and um… where we are too?” Did how unsure he sounded even to himself help or hinder the ‘lost tourist’ lie he was going for here?

“Oh darling, bless your heart. You’re more than a bit lost. You ain’t even in the right state.”

“Could you tell me the right state then and how to get there?” All Sniper had to do was keep this going and survive this wretched conversation until Miss Pauling came to save him. He could do that. … She better hurry though.

TF2 Drabbles: Demo - ‘Good With Magic Stuff’

Summary: I wonder whether RED team will push their Demo to reconcile with BLU Soldier so that he has a chance of finding out some of BLU Medic’s secrets? Demo is the closest to a magic expert on that team IIRC, after all.

~

“Let me get this right,” Demo said, “you want me to re-befriend the enemy Soldier so I can steal his Medic’s magic secrets?”

RED Medic nodded. “Correct.”

“You’re the only one with a connection to the BLU team currently,” Engie added.

Demo couldn’t argue with that logic but… “He don’t know a bloody thing ‘bout that shit. He’s probably the least magically inclined person I ever met.”

Medic nodded as if he understood even though, as far as Demo knew, he’d never met the BLU Soldier before. “Just get him to trust you enough so you can go into their base. Then steal one of those bastard’s magic books or whatever he wrote his stuff down in. You’re good with magic stuff, so it should be easy.”

‘Good with magic stuff’ was not how Demo would describe himself. He knew a decent amount about it sure but he was far from a proper magic user. He wasn’t about to correct someone thinking him more competent than he was though. “Why you wanna know anyway? Ain’t your science stuff at least as good as his magic healing stuff?”

“Curiosity. He’s apparently been using magic this whole time, doing a lot of the same things I can I do with science. I wouldn’t have thought that possible. I wish to know more.”

“I wanna know ‘cause I just like learning ‘bout new stuff,” Engie said. “We already tried to send Spy but he got caught by a magic spell or something so we’re asking you. If you ain’t up for it though, that’s totally fair.”

“Nah, I can do it.” Maybe. He might be able to spot detection spells or whatever but getting past them as well as doing all the mundane sneaky spy stuff without getting caught was another question. It was an excuse to talk to BLU Soldier more though, maybe clear up the misunderstanding. He’d took Miss Pauling’s deal, sure, but if he had accomplices he’d maybe be able to get away with breaking it. Have his cake and eat it too as the Americans sometimes liked to say. “You gotta cover for me with the higher ups though. They didn’t want me befriending him.”

“Of course,” Engie said. “We’ll handle it, don’t worry. I got an in with the boss if we do get caught too. So you should be fine.”

“I want payment too.” He was doing it for himself, yes, but proper payment wasn’t uncalled for. “Money and/or good alcohol.”

“Of course, of course,” Medic said. “Money and the best whiskey we can get out hands on.”

“All righty then, it’s deal.”

TF2 Drabbles: Spy & Medic & Scout - Second Chance

Summary: Medic ends up making something that supposed to improve his healing gun and when testing it on scout it goes wrong and deages scout to a kid who doesn’t have his memeriores of his current self and medic tried to find a cure but in the meantime the team has to take care of kid scout who an cutie of a kid who endears everyone while they wait for the cure and this gives spydad the chances to give scout some nicer childhood memories with him as scout dad that he remembers when he finally turned back and actually gives his dad a hug and I love you before doing it to everyone else being passing out In his bed leaving everyone shocked but feeling warm and fuzzy.

[A/N] We’re back on the drabble train!

~

“I may have made a bit of an oopsie,” Medic said as soon as Spy finished closing the base’s back door behind himself. He didn’t look or sound particularly worried about whatever he’d done but admitting to it at all meant it was a serious problem. And the fact that he’d seemingly been waiting for Spy to return to report it to him meant it was his problem now too because it involved him in some way.

“How angry am I about to be with you about it?” Spy gave Medic his best intimidating glare, setting his voice to match. The affect of which, as always, was lost on Medic.

“Hmm… I’m not sure. It involves Scout though so…”

“What did you do?”

“I’m researching ways to make the medi-gun prolong one’s life. Scout was my test subject this time because Heavy is out on a job and well… it would be easier to explain if you saw, I suppose. Follow me.” He turned and headed deeper into the base.

Spy followed. “He’s still alive?” He forced his tone to stay neutral. Surely even Medic would’ve lead with that if it wasn’t the case, right?

“Yes, yes, quite alive. I locked him in one of the recovery rooms to make sure he stayed that way until you got here.”

That didn’t sound good but Spy didn’t bother with further questions. He needed to see what was wrong first.

Luckily Medic had always been a fast walker and thus they were soon entering into his lab and headed to the back of it. He went straight to the furthest recovery room at the back and after pulling out the key, unlocked it and led the way inside. Spy followed, closing the door behind them.

Inside was Scout as predicted. Or well, not really. Referring to him by his actual name, Jeremy, would suit him better because he looked like he had when he was twelve. Not even close to what Spy had been expecting. It took all his self control to prevent his surprise from showing in his body language.

Jeremy hopped of the bed he’d been sitting on even before the door was quite finished closing. He’d glare up at Spy and Medic, though it did little to hide the fear on his face. “Who the heck are you?” His voice squeaked, betraying his nerves even further.

“He seems to have lost his memories,” Medic said, his voice nonchalant. “I believe he should get them back when I fix it but… I’m not entirely sure. I suppose we’ll see when we get there. Until then though, congrats on your second chance. You can’t possibly fuck it up worse than you did the first time.”

Spy wouldn’t put it past himself to not fuck it up worse than he had the first time. He didn’t even want to try again, especially not like this. It had to be him watching out for Jeremy until this was fixed though, didn’t it? He certainly couldn’t trust anyone else to do so, Medic had already locked him up in a small room for who even knew how long? So looks like he was indeed getting a second chance at being Jeremy’s father regardless of how qualified he was to do a good job or how prepared he was for it. Hopefully Medic would be able to fix it quickly.

ALT

My brother used to play TF2 and cosplayed as Engie once so I’m hoping he still has fond memories because this is my gift for him this year.

ALT

Happy 9th day of Halloween!

New profile pic too of course.

ALT

TF2 ‘Drabbles’ - Scout - Expectation vs Reality

Prompt: I like your monster au it would be awesome if you did like an au where scout finds out he can turn into a cat cuz spydad is an animal shifter who turns into like a tiger and instead of that scout shifter form ended up be Chunky and fast tabby cat.

[A/N] I intended to paint this but then got super distracted by a need to draw Tenna Delatrune a lot and now it’s time to start working on my Halloween art. So this is remaining as a sketch.

TF2 Drabbles: Demo/Engie - Lack of Coordination

Summary: Engie adjusting to the Gunslinger after first acquiring it. (Bonus points if Demo’s experience of adjusting to a missing body part allows him to give useful advice, despite the very different circumstances.)

~

The sound of dishes breaking had never been particularity rare but lately it had become a tad more common. Enough that Demo knew who was responsible even before he finished rounding the corner and stepping into kitchen.

Engie stood at the counter, frowning down at the broken mug on the floor. “Dagnabbit.”

Demo collected the broom and dusted pan from their spot by the door and carried it over to hand to Engie. “Still haven’t gotten used to that thing, huh?”

With a sigh, Engie got to work sweeping up his mess. “Not quite. Sometimes it feels like I lost coordination in my entire arm if I’m not paying enough attention to it.”

Lack of coordination was something Demo knew well and not just from drink. “Maybe try putting stuff on your good side. So you default to using your flesh hand first.” Making sure to put stuff on the side he could actually see out of had distractedly reduced the amount of times reaching for something absentmindedly resulted in it being knocked over instead. Maybe it would the same with Engie and his not being able to feel things properly with his metal hand.

Engie looked up at him as he retrieved the now full dust pan. “Hmm, guess I could try that. Thanks.”

Demo grunted an acknowledgment as the continued around him to the coffee maker.

TF2 Drabbles: Pauling & Sniper - The Pigs Know Me

Summary: Miss Pauling, possibly assisted by one or more of the mercs, needs to sneak into a pig farm to dispose of a body (pigs are apparently all too happy to eat human corpses… and sometimes living humans, if they’re too young or injured to fight back) and get back out again without the farmers suspecting anything.

~

It was late enough that most of, if not all of the farm work should be complete but not quite late enough to safely bet on everyone being firmly asleep yet. No one looked to be up and about but that could change and they didn’t exactly have the best vantage point. Waiting until midnight was an option and what Pauling usually did even if the time waste grated against her every instinct. Today though, she had company.

“The pig pen is on the west side, the building closest to us.” She always approached from this angle for that reason. “Go down ahead of me to keep watch and deter anyone from entering until my business is done.”

Sniper frowned at her. “Uh, you know I’m not good with people, right?”

“I do, yes. You don’t need to good with people to keep them busy though so I’m sure you’ll do fine.” She grabbed the wagon’s handle, the body on it covered by a blanket that did little to disguise the shape of it, and started downhill.

Sniper fell in step with her. “Maybe I’ll handle the body and you handle the people?”

“No can do. The pigs know me. They’ll raise a stink if a stranger shows up.” She’d cultivated these pigs being comfortable with her presence at odd hours since day one.

“Damn it, fine.” With a slight growl Sniper sped up to do as ordered.

Upon reaching the back of the pigs’ building, Pauling paused to listen. Other than the crickets and muffled sound of the pigs inside, it was silent. Quickly she snuck around to the front and using the spare key she’d stolen, let herself in.

Inside the pigs snorted and grunted, many raising from where they’d lain down to sleep to come over and investigate. Like the domesticated animals they were, they waited patiently as she pulled the wagon inside and closed the door. They even let her roll it to the center before showing any sign of impatience.

She yanked the blanket off before tilting the wagon. The corpse hit the ground with a familiar thud, drawing more attention. As the pigs closed in, she pulled back to watch. Not because she relished the sight of a bunch of animals happily tearing into what had once been a human person but to make sure they wouldn’t leave anything behind. They never had so far but it wouldn’t be wise to blindly bet on that always being the case.

TF2 Drabbles: BLU Spy/RED Sniper - A Lot Could Be Said

Summary: I was wondering if you could do one were blue spy and red sniper are just calmly sharing a smoke watching the sun set over the battle field

~

A lot could be said about the New Mexico desert, much of it negative, but the sunsets were gorgeous. The red glow seemed to make the landscape come to life in a picturesque scene. Perhaps one day Spy would try to paint it. Not today though.

Behind him the tower’s ladder creaked again, indicating the RED Sniper was nearing the top. Spy turned to face him as he reached it.

He let out a sigh as he pulled himself up. “I can never sneak up on you, huh?”

“Nope, you can’t.” And Spy was in turn less reliably able to sneak up on him. The consequences of being too familiar with one’s surroundings and enemy.

Sniper walked the rest of the way over to join him at the railing. Wordlessly Spy pulled out his pack of cigarettes to hand him one and grab a fresh one for himself. After lighting up, they both turned to look out over the landscape and battlefield immediately below. A lot that could be said about the Gravel War, much of it negative, but the company at times, was nice.

TF2 Drabbles: Engie & Scout & Demo - Furniture War

Summary: Any two mercs (other than Engie and maybe Heavy) attempting to assemble flatpack furniture. One component will probably end up the wrong way up.

~

“Hey, Hardhat,” Scout said as Engie walked into the common room. He sat on the floor, the pieces of what could only be one of the new coffee tables laid out before him as if he were about to start putting it together. “What’s up?”

Engie walked the rest of the way over. “Not much. What’s you up to?” If he really was about to start putting the table together, that meant Engie would have a helper on it as that had been his goal upon coming in here. It being Scout meant it would likely take longer than doing it alone but it wouldn’t hurt to humor him a little if he wanted to help.

“The new furniture stuff came in. I’m about to start putting it together. Demo’s helping. We’re gonna paint it after.”

As if on cue, Demo came in behind Engie. He carried a case of beer that he put down next to the table parts with a clink. “We found a real garish bright pink that should make Spy real mad when he sees it next to the other table that we’re gonna paint bright green.”

“We’re gonna do polka dots too if there’s any paint left over for it, the pink on the green and vice versa,” Scout added. “We also considered painting the walls a different bright colour but that would take too long and would probably be pushing it a bit anyway. We wanna offend Spy’s ‘sense of aesthetic’, whatever that word even means, not give everyone a headache every time they come in here.”

And so the furniture war continued and Engie continued to not want to have anything to do with it. “Good luck with that,” he said before turning and walking out.

A few hours later

“Is it supposed to do that?” Scout asked as Engie poked his head into the common room.

The ‘that’ in question seemed to be wobbling. Something had gone wrong with the table’s construction that resulted in it have a very visible wobble. Considering the ways things could’ve gone wrong and the problems the team’s furniture based conflicts had caused in the past, that was surprisingly tame.

“Don’t think so,” Demo replied. “But this might be good. It’s annoying so Spy’ll be even more annoyed, right? Or we could try to fix it.”

“Uh… nah, let’s just and get to work on the second one so we can start painting before Spy comes back.”

Engie turned around and left again. He’d continue to monitor but it seemed like this actually might end with nothing more egregious than a couple of ugly wobbly tables in the common room.

TF2 Drabbles: Demo - On The Moon

Summary: They take a teleporter to the moon.

[A/N] Last week I realized that my next drabble for this fic would be going up on the anniversary of when the first manned space craft landed on the moon (July 20). So I decided to write a moon themed drabble for it. Happy Moon Day!

~

“Holy shit, I think we’re on the moon,” Scout said which made all the pieces finally click into place within Demo’s mind.

The extreme secrecy about their next posting, the strange bouncy feeling upon reaching the other side of the teleporter and then finally the view through the window in the common room. Gray stretched off to a horizon that was far too close. The odd blackness of the sky and the too clear stars. ‘On the moon’ was the only possible explanation for all of it.

Demo turned to look at Engie, last through the teleporter and thus also last to come into the new common room. “You built a bloody teleporter to the moon and didn’t tell anyone?”

Engie didn’t even have the decency to look chagrined. Instead he merely shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal. “Yep. A couple months ago.”

“Well that explains your long absence,” Spy said.

“How’d you keep this a bloody secret?” Demo wouldn’t have been able to.

Engie shrugged again. “Guess I’m just good at keeping secrets. It was pretty dang cool though.”

“Why are we here anyway?” Medic asked. Also a good question. Presumably it was another scheme and/or attempt at land ownership by one of the Mann Co. brothers that resulted in the other wanting it too and thus they were going to fight about it.

It was Miss Pauling who answered. “Remember a few weeks ago when the RED Team didn’t show up to a battle and then you were promptly informed not teleport a lot of bread to a single location but then some of you did anyway?” She gave Scout, Pyro, and Soldier a pointed look of disapproval.

“How were we supposed to know that was gonna happen?” Scout said. “You didn’t tell us anything other than to not do it which was basically the same as telling us to do it.”

Ignoring him, she continued. “Well turns out their Soldier, in addition to creating the monster that resulted in them not showing up to battle that day, also somehow found their Engineer’s teleporter to the moon. I’m sure you can probably guess what he did with it.”

Soldier raised his hand. “He teleported stuff because that’s what teleporters do.”

“Very good Soldier. Yes, he did teleport stuff, specifically more bread. We’re here to blow up the resulting monster.”

Now it was Demo’s turn to raise his hand for a question. “Why we cleaning up their mess? Shouldn’t that be their problem?” Not that he was begrudging the chance to be on the moon but they’d never had such a mission before.

“This base is a shared facility. That was the only possible way we could get it built. The monster killed everyone, including the people on our half it, thus it’s a problem for our side too. Now hurry up and get situated so we can get to work before Redmon decides he wants to keep the thing as a pet solely because Blutarch sent us to blow it up.”

TF2 Drabble: Spy - Favourite Grandparent

Summary: Spy and Demo’s Mum both trying to be the cooler grandparent.

~

“Hey, Spy,” Demo said as soon as Spy answered the phone.

“Bonjour.”

“Just calling to warn ya that me Mum’s apparently decided you and her are in some kinda competition. So if she says something weird to ya at the get-to-together next week, just ignore it, ‘kay?”

Come to think of it Mrs. DeGroot had said a few oddly antagonistic things to Spy in the past. Which meant this likely wasn’t a new thing. “What kind of competition?”

“It’s ‘bout who’s the kids’ favorite grandparent or something like that. It’s silly but it gives her something to do so don’t take anything she says too personally. She’s been getting more intense ‘bout it lately so I wanted to give ya a heads up or whatever. I got stuff to do though so talk to ya later.” Without waiting for a response, he hung up.

Pulling the phone away from his face, Spy stared at it for a couple seconds before putting it back in its cradle. It was hardly a competition, right? He was clearly the favored grandparent. Having money meant without even trying he’d made himself easy to like during birthdays and Christmases. … Mrs. DeGroot was pretty rich too though, wasn’t she? Which resulted in her also being well liked during gift giving celebrations. So maybe it wasn’t as clean cut as that.

Demo was right though; it was a silly competition. Spy wasn’t going to indulge it. … Not much anyway. Just a little bit of effort would be all it would take to win anyway, right? And trying in vain to win would give ol’ Mrs. DeGroot something to do so there’d be no real harm in it either.

TF2 Drabbles - SpyDad - I’m Not Girly

Summary: Scout has his mom gene of having long hair that magical in a sense that it grows very fast and stays just below his shoulders and no matter how much he tries to cut it short it just grows back in his sleep so he given up trying and just hides it in his hat when working and wears wigs to hide his hair when he not working and the team finds out about it because of soldier knocking into scout after they have finished work for the day and scout embarrassed while everyone just is stunned since his hair is kinda magical like finn long blonde hair from adventure time and spydad goes to make sure scout alright and it end happy with the team not caring.

~

Another series of knocks on the door had Scout flinching. It was too soon to safely assume it wasn’t the first knocker trying again after being ignored. Unless the whole team was clambering to make fun of him for having ‘girly’ hair. Any attempt to explain why his hair was like that wouldn’t be believed because it was stupid sounding curse so he he didn’t answer it this time either. Instead he rolled over, putting his back to the door.

“Scout, I know you’re in there.” It was apparently Spy who’d coming knocking.

“Wow, I got under your skin that much, huh? Enough for you to chase me down to my room to make fun of me. Not even I would stoop that low. You’re perfectly capable of laughing at me out there though so fuck off.”

“I’m not here to laugh at you.” He sounded like he meant it. Which didn’t mean anything because he was basically a professional faker.

“What else could you possibly be here for?”

“Can I come in?”

“Why?”

“So we can talk instead of shouting at each other through a closed door.”

“Can’t you just pick the lock?”

“Yes but I would prefer not to intrude uninvited.” If he was being so polite maybe he really wasn’t here to make fun of Scout and did just want to talk. About what though? And why?

With a groan, Scout rolled over and slid out of the bed. Upon unlocking the door and opening it, Spy didn’t immediately burst into laughing at him after all which was probably a good sign. Scout stepped back to let him in before closing the door after him.

Crossing his arms, Scout leaned against the wall in a way that hopefully conveyed cool guy nonchalance. His hair was still down though so how much the ‘guy’ part of that came across was in question. “Okay, you’re in, let’s talk.”

“I wanted to make sure that you knew that nobody cares that your hair is long. That’s what you’re upset about, correct? That they saw?” Did Spy know? … Of course he knew, knowing people’s secrets was his job and he was a nosy piece of shit regardless. So he probably also knew about the curse that made Scout’s hair the way it was.

“It makes me look girly though and I’m not girly.” Being perceived as girly or feminine by people who’d only ever known him as a guy was a nightmare come to life.

“No one thinks you’re girly. They just think you have a long hair, a trait that isn’t inherently feminine.”

“Most people think it is.”

“Well, most people are wrong. And, no one on the team could be accurately described as being like ‘most people’. So I can assure you none of them give a crap that you’re a man with long hair. Meaning it’s not something you need to worry or stress over. I just wanted to make sure you knew that. Now I must bid you adieu.” He turned and left, closing the door gently behind him.

Letting his cool guy posture drop, Scout stared after him. What were the chances he was right and no one really did care of think his hair made him girly? And whether he as or not why had he gone out of his way to tell Scout that? An attempt at comforting him? Why? Because he knew, right? And maybe even cared a little bit for some reason? Interesting.

TF2 Drabbles - Patton & Demo & Mrs. DeGroot - He’d Be Good At It

Summary: Demo’s mum wants to be honorary grandma to Soldier’s and Scout’s children (especially if General Patton Doe actually is missing an eye - “we’ve a born Demo here, Tavish lad!” Demo clearly having flashbacks - rather than being treated for amblyopia).

[A/N] A headcanon I quite like and have had for a while is that Demo, Soldier, and Zhanna have a poly thing going on which with the addition of Soldier and Zhanna’s kids, gives them 2 dads basically. So for them 2, Mrs. DeGroot is their step-grandma (she is honorary grandma to Scout’s kids though). I decided Patton and Georgia call Demo ‘Tav’ to stay with the single syllable scheme of 'mom’ and 'dad’. Also, I guess this is my official determination that I’m willing to write stuff involving the team’s kids. It’s not my preferred thing but it is allowed and I don’t mind the challenge of going a little out of my comfort zone occasionally. I won’t write them as babies though, they have to be of typical talking age for me to be willing to write anything featuring them.

~

“Just ‘cause he ain’t your flesh and blood don’t mean he ain’t meant to be a Demo,” Grandma was saying as Patton approached the kitchen. He slowed to a stop just outside it; were they talking about him? “You’ve said he’s even got an eye patch now. It’s meant to be!”

They were talking about him. Was that good at bad? Did he want to be talked about when he wasn’t supposed to be around to hear?

“Ma, we been over this,” Tav said with a tone that very much implied it wasn’t a good thing. “Whether he’s my flesh and blood or not don’t matter. That kinda thing ain’t even meant to be hereditary.”

Grandma made her tutting sound of disapproval. “It’s meant to be laddie. He’d be good at it.”

Patton could slink back to the living room to resume playing with Georgia or he could be brave like Mom, Dad, and Tav always were. “What’d I be good at?” he asked, projecting his voice the way Dad had taught him.

Grandma was sitting at the kitchen table while Tav stirred something that smelled good on the stove top. “Nothing,” he cut in before she could answer.

She of course wasn’t going to let that stop her as she let out a cackle that made her sound like an evil witch. If it ever came out that she was an evil witch Patton wouldn’t be surprised. He would be pleased though because evil witches were cool. “Blowing stuff up like your Dads but ‘specially this one here.” She gestured vaguely in Tav’s direction.

“Ooh, I wanna blow stuff up! Mom’s good at that too.” Patton so far hadn’t been allowed to do anything more than small fireworks so far.

“See Tavish, lad, it’s meant to be.”

“Still ‘no’ to your way of doing it. When you’re older laddie,” he was addressing Patton now, “we’ll teach ya some stuff but not yet. And don’t go asking your Ma or Dad. We talked ‘bout this before you was even born and agreed you don’t get to handle anything that could kill someone ‘til you’re at least a teenager.”

When phrased like that, it was hard to argue against. Patton didn’t want to kill anyone.

“Now go get Georgia, food’s almost done.”

“Yes, sir.”

TF2 Drabbles - SpyDad - I Can Help

Summary: I head cannon that now that scout has money from being hired he been secretly using it to learn how to read and write since he insecure about his writing and reading skills and spydad has finally caught him on accident and offers to teach him himself and it fluffy.

~

Spy’s first thought had been that the library was merely a meeting point for a drug pickup. That conclusion had seemingly been bolstered by Scout’s settling down at one of the more out of the way tables. But the longer Spy stood in the corner, waiting for the dealer to the show up the odder this situation seemed.

Scout’s back was to him. His shoulders were hunched as he seemed to truly be focusing on the book in his hands. That wasn’t like him. Granted, him sneaking off to get illegal drugs would’ve been unlike him too. His sneakiness in general was why Spy had followed him out here.

A quick double checked showed that the invis-watch was still working and fully charge. Spy snuck out from the corner, being careful to give Scout a wide berth – one could never be too careful when it came to sneaking around someone used to danger – which eventually put him into a position that allowed him a view of Scout’s face.

Scout was indeed reading. He was mouthing the words slowly and silently, his face slightly scrunched with the effort he was putting into this. And the book in his hand, ‘The Secret of the Old Clock’. Spy had never heard of it but the cover and short length gave the impression it likely wasn’t difficult reading despite Scout’s seeming struggles. … Perhaps that’s why he was reading it? Practice.

That was certainly far better than him getting involved with the illegal drug trade. But what Spy should do about it, if anything, was far harder to decide. It would be easiest to just leave him to it. Scout obviously wanted to keep this a secret anyway. On the other hand though, Spy knew stuff that would likely help him.

With an inward sigh, he walked around behind one of the bookshelves. Even in Tuefort the library was quiet though so… he put a few more bookshelves between them before decloaking. He then returned to that nook, clearing his throat softly as he stepped into it.

Scout looked up, opening his mouth to say something. He snapped it shut with a grimace though as his gaze landed on Spy. “Why are you here?”

“Well, it’s a library, a place known for having books, so I’m sure you can probably guess. The real question though is why are you here?” As he spoke, Spy strode over and pulled out the chair across from Scout to gracefully lower himself into. He was careful to keep his tone and posture calm and friendly. This wasn’t a confrontation, it was an invitation for conversation.

Scout didn’t look particularly comforted by the attempt as he closed the book and stood. “It doesn’t matter. I was just leaving.”

Well Spy had tried to lead into it casually. “I can help if you would like.”

Scout kept going for another couple steps before stopping. He didn’t turn to face Spy again but… “With what?”

“Reading. I’m dyslexic too so I know a thing or two that might be of assistance to you as well.” He knew what it was like to struggle and feel stupid because of it. Fortune had granted him a tutor who know how to accommodate for that though back when he’d still been in school. Scout hadn’t had that.

Now Scout did turn to face him. “You’re… ‘dys’ what? What does that mean?” Ah, he didn’t know then?

“Dyslexic. It’s a learning disability that make reading and writing more difficult.”

Scout was silent for a beat or two as the squeezed the book in his hands. “So you’re saying words are hard for you too?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s because of this dys thingy?”

“Yes.”

“So there’s something actually wrong with me? It’s not just that I’m stupid? ‘Cause you have it too and you’re not stupid.”

“Correct. You’re not stupid and it’s not your fault.”

“And you know how to fix it?”

“Well, it’s not something that can really be fixed. It can be worked around though.”

Scout’s hopeful gaze shifted into suspicion; understandable and warranted but still it hurt a little. “And what do you want in return for helping me get better at reading?”

“Would you believe me if I said ‘nothing’?” It wasn’t quite true, he wanted a chance to connect even if he couldn’t ever tell Scout why.

“No because no one ever wants anything for nothing, especially people who do what we do for a living. So what do you want?”

“I may need someone to lie to Miss Pauling and the Administrator about my whereabouts in the near future. You wouldn’t need to get involved in any way other than saying you saw me various times throughout the span of a couple days.” He could easily pull a disappearing act and call up Miss Pauling to talk to Scout to get him to spill this cover. She would want to know why but she already knew Spy’s secret so she’d understand.

“Hmm… okay, sure, I can do that.” He walked over and pulled the chair next to Spy’s out. Before sitting in it though, “You also gotta promise to not tell the guys about you tutoring me or whatever this is.”

Spy put a hand over his heart. “I promise not to tell a single soul.”

Scout sat down. “Good. Now how do we begin?”

TF2 Drabbles - Merasmus & BLU Medic & Bombinomicon - We Got An Intruder

Summary: Different Medics probably have different approaches to maximising their teammates’ capabilities: the canon Medic focuses on xenotransplants, but it’d be interesting to see other Medics’ approaches.

~

Stirred up was the only way to describe the ghosts’ behavior upon Merasmus’ return to the house. They’d long since grown accustomed to his presence though, barely reacting to his comings and goings. Which meant they were reacting to something or more likely – because they usually only got rattling the curtains levels of stirred up by the presence of strangers – someone else being in the house.

Soldier. That’s the only person it could be because he was the only one who’d continue to hound Merasmus through so many moves. If he’d somehow ended up getting this place turned into a raccoon sanctuary too Merasmus was going to kill him. Yeah, it wouldn’t stick, but he’d just do it again until he felt satisfied.

The words to cast a Meteor Storm on his lips, Merasmus snuck towards the kitchen and peeked in. … An unseen ghost was opening and closing the silverware drawer hard enough to make its contents rattle, acting as a voice for the being’s frustration, but otherwise the room was empty. Good he wasn’t getting into Merasmus’ foodstuffs this time. Not so good, he might be getting into something far more important.

Fast as he could while still being sneaky, Merasmus headed for the basement lab. Thankfully upon reaching it, the door was still locked both magically and physically. Theoretically it was possible to get through both but Soldier wouldn’t be able to and the magic part of the lock would reek of belonging to someone else. No one had been here.

The next most important place was the library. Upon reaching the door, the knob turned freely. Had he forgotten to lock it again? Surely not. Making the same mistake multiple times wasn’t like him other than the whole getting in trouble with multiple big name mafia groups. But the means of getting into those troubles had been slightly different every time so it hardly counted. He’d locked the door almost for sure. Meaning he’d found Soldier.

He threw the door open as he took a breath to voice his Meteor Storm but immediately bit back on it before getting even a single syllable out because his precious books were in there too. Which left him standing in the doorway, holding his breath, as the door slammed against the wall.

“Hey dipshit,” the Bombinomicon said. “You finally showed up. We got an intruder.”

“I know! Where is he?” Stepping in, Merasmus scanned the front shelves, finding no one.

“Hallo!” A voice that certainly wasn’t Soldier came from deeper in before its owner stepped into view. The BLU Medic. He held one of Merasmus’ spellbooks open in his hands. “I knocked but you weren’t in so I let myself in.”

Merasmus had been so prepared to enact some righteous anger onto Soldier, he was left rather dumbstruck. The BLU team wasn’t the team his Soldier had joined thus this wasn’t even a friend of Jane’s here to be a problem in his stead. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see if your ‘Come Back Stronger’ spell was stronger than mine ‘cause you’ve somehow made it into a pill. Granted I’ve never tried to make mine into a pill but I wouldn’t have known how before I read this.” He gestured to the book in his hand.

“He didn’t even try to steal me,” the Bombinomicon complained.

“What use would I have for bomb spells? I’m a doctor. Besides I’m perfectly aware that you’re cursed and I’m far too busy to figure out how to undo a curse right now.”

“I can think of several creative ways bombs could be used in medicine.”

Medic frowned at it. “Why do you want me to steal you?”

“It doesn’t,” Merasmus answered for it. “It wants you to try so it can curse you with the bonus side effect of inconveniencing me into hunting you down to retrieve it.” They’d been through that song and dance multiple times during their many, many years together.

“Ah, I see.” Medic nodded as if he understand perfectly. He then turned his full attention onto Merasmus. “I’m still not sure if your spell is stronger than mine. They’re very similar though which is interesting. Do you have your notes for when you original came up with it?”

When was the last time Merasmus had had a conversation with another wizard? … A long time for sure. And since when had the BLU Medic been a wizard? And why was he only just now finding out about that fact?

“He does,” the Bombinomicon answered for him. “He keeps all his notes in his diary.”

“It’s a journal, not a diary. My diary is something else entirely. But well, I suppose I could go get my journal.” If their spell were indeed similar that would indeed be interesting; rare was the day two spellcasters created spells that did the same thing completely separate from each other.

TF2 Drabbles: Sniper & Pyro - Don’t Call People Often

Summary: Dalmatians are apparently quite difficult dogs to train and handle (in particular, they’re prone to aggression issues - I went down a bit of a rabbit hole looking up stuff about dogs last month, having realised that I knew almost nothing about them and wanting to be able to interact better with all the dogs I pass on my commute since it takes me through the local unofficial dog park), so does one of the mercs (probably Engie, although maybe Sniper if he’s spent time on a sheep station) have a lot of dog-training experience and help Pyro to raise and train that puppy? (Someone with lots of dog experience probably really missed having a dog around anyway, after all.)

~

“Sniper?” The voice on the other end of the line was unfamiliar and androgynous but their referring to him as such meant they knew him in relation to his work. Thus this might be a job offer. Which he wasn’t really in the mood for but it’s not like he had anything better to do so he might as well listen.

“Yep. What’d you need?”

“Miss Pauling said you have experience with dogs, specifically training them. Sheep dogs, she said. So I was wondering if you could help me with Spark? He’s being bad and won’t listen to me when I try to get him to be good.”

Not at all the kind of request Sniper had been expecting. And why was Miss Pauling suggesting him as a dog trainer to a stranger? … Unless this wasn’t a stranger. He did know someone with a dog who’s voice he wasn’t particularly familiar with. “Pyro?”

“Yeah?”

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever heard your voice over the phone.”

“I don’t call people often.” And of course they weren’t wearing their mask because understanding him in person was hard enough with it on, such would’ve been nigh on impossible over the phone. “So… can you help? Or maybe just give me some tips?”

“Uh… you still staying in the Mann Co. building, right?” Sniper had moved into a hotel not far from it but last he’d heard many of the other had decided to stay for a little while.

“Yeah.”

“Uh, sure then. We can meet up somewhere and I’ll see if I can help train him. It’s been a while since I got a chance to train a puppy and I don’t exactly have anything else going on at the moment.” He still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do next so a distraction to put off deciding a little bit longer was more than welcome. “You wanna do it now or… when?”

“Now’s good. My room here.”

“’Kay. I’ll give you a couple minutes to put on your suit and stuff before heading down there then.”

“Thanks but um… you can just come. Miss Pauling saw my face and it was fine so… maybe it’ll fine if everyone else sees it too.”

“Oh, uh, sure if you’re uh, sure, anyway.”

“I’m more sure then not.”

“Okay. See ya in like five minutes then.”

TF2 Drabbles: Spy/Soldier - Wouldn’t Be Wise

Summary: If it’s not too much trouble, I could request a freedom fries with clingy!soldier and touch-starved!spy??

~

It had started a dalliance. Just a ‘Soldier was physically attractive and willing so sometimes they would engage in sexual activities’ thing. Spy usually left after they were done, returning to his own bed to spend the rest of the night alone. Not last night though. Last night he’d stayed for some reason he was currently not quite awake enough to recall yet.

At this time of year in this part of the world, proper dawn happened fairly late in the morning and thus no light shone through the window yet. Spy inner clock said it was morning though; his alarm clock back in his room would be going off soon. Presumably Soldier’s in here would too but until it did, he didn’t have to actually get up. While he wasn’t ever in a rush to get out of bed, he normally wasn’t prone to being reluctant to either. The blankets were warm though and Soldier was a wonderfully solid presence against his back, his heavily muscled arm holding Spy close.

Soldier had made clear he’d wanted to cuddle last night. That’s why Spy had stayed; Soldier had asked him to. At the time he’d had vague plans to escape as soon as Soldier drifted off but he’d fallen asleep himself far too fast to follow through. He could do so now or try to, depending on how deep a sleeper Soldier was.

Perhaps he should do so, make clear that their relationship was just about occasional fucking to let off some steam and to relieve boredom. Getting too attached wouldn’t be wise, not in their line of work. But… the gentle movement of Soldier’s chest against his back as he breathed was nice in a way Spy couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced. And Soldier had asked him to stay. “Could you stay and cuddle for a little while… just once, maybe,” he’d asked in an earnest almost nervous sounding whisper that had been impossible to say ‘no’ to. And so Spy had returned wordlessly to bed. Now, fully awake the next morning, he didn’t regret that decision. Maybe he’d stayed next time too… probably he would actually. Coldfront was aptly named for it was quite cold, making sleeping cuddled up with someone practical. It didn’t have to mean anything deep, he could and would just as enjoy it.

TF2 Drabbles: Engie/Soldier - Good Morning

Summary: I would also like to request some Helmet Party Hurt/Comfort! Soldier having a nightmare and Engie comforting him, mayhaps?

~

Soldier had two modes of sleeping; cuddly and quiet – rarely even so much as snoring – or stiff and straight as a board on his back as he muttered incomprehensibly. Tonight it was the latter. He was having a nightmare.

Carefully, Engie sat up and reached over to turn on the light atop the nightstand. His metal hand was in the drawer. He quickly pulled it out and attached it before reaching over with it to give Soldier’s shoulder a firm shake. With a gasp, Soldier shot up, grasping his wrist hard enough that it would’ve hurt if it had been his flesh hand. As was always the case, he realized what was going on fast enough to not do anything other than that.

His grip loosened as he panted for breath. “Good morning, Engie.”

“It’s two a.m.”

“That’s morning time and I’m wishing you good one.” Sometimes they left it at only mild chatter like this and would go back to sleep shortly but even if his grip on Engie’s wrist had loosened, he hadn’t let go. Meaning his nightmare had been particularly bad this time.

“Well, good morning to you to then, I suppose. You remember what your dream was about?”

Soldier took a few seconds to think about it. “No or well, sort of. I didn’t have my rocket launcher and I was in the middle of a battlefield, I think. People were dying around me and I couldn’t protect them. It was… people I knew, I think. I don’t remember their faces or if they even had faces.”

“It was just a bad dream. You’d never go anywhere without your rocket launcher.” Up to and including keeping it just under his side of the bed.

He nodded. “I would never. But why do our brains lie to us in our dreams sometimes?”

“I don’t know. Something to do with memory processing, I think.” Biology and mental stuff was one of the areas of science Engie had barely touched. Humans just weren’t his thing. Machines were much easier to understand both the inner and outer workings of.

“Medic would know.”

“He might.”

“Can we go ask him?”

“Right now?”

Soldier finally let go of Engie’s wrist so he could stand up. “Yes, right now.”

“Let’s ask him after sunrise instead, huh?” Engie slide out of bed too. “Which doesn’t mean we gotta go back to sleep if you don’t wanna. We can go hang out and drank some coffee or something instead for a bit.”

Soldier liked to be strict about the eight hours of sleep a night thing with precise times on the clock for going to bed and getting out of it in the morning. His nightmares were apparently bad enough at times for him to ‘forget’ that. Probably he didn’t forget though, right? He just ignored it because he’d rather break his sleep rules then risk going back to his nightmares. Not that he ever admitted to that, it was all speculation on Engie’s part because he certainly never asked. Maybe he should ask though? But how to do that without making it sound accusatory? Probably instead he should look into getting Soldier to go see a therapist. Which would have to wait until after the war was over. Except they’d already transitioned from the Gravel War immediately into a Robot War, who knows what might come next?

“Coffee sounds good,” Soldier said. “And then we can patrol the base to make sure there aren’t any robots trying to sneak up on us.” Decision made, he marched out of the room.

With a sigh, Engie followed. He wasn’t sure how best to help Soldier but just hanging out with him should help at least a little, right?

TF2 Drabbles: BLU Spy/RED Engie - Favorite Spot

Summary: can you write more Napoleon complex pls + Yesss we love some Napoleon Complex

~

Stepping into the intel room, Engie paused to look around at his various machines spread throughout the room. His gaze lingered on the dispenser for a moment almost as if he sensed Spy’s presence atop it. Only almost though as he turned away and returned to upgrading his sentry.

Crossing his legs, Spy settled in to watch. The battle had just started and thus the stalemate hadn’t had time to set in yet so probably he should do more than just watch. He should try to prevent the stalemate but he never succeeded in such endeavors for long so what would be the point?

Back inside the BLU base the other Engie was doing this exact same thing in their intel room. Was the RED Spy likewise watching him possibly also without the intent of trying to stop him? Perhaps those two also had something going on similar to whatever Spy had with this Engie. That would be interesting. Spy would have to look into it one day.

Once the sentry was fully up and operational, Engie left again. Upon returning this time, as expected, he turned his attention onto the dispenser. When fighting here he almost always upgraded it second. His order of operations depended on the battlefield and exact situation but that only made him more predictable. Not entirely though because he stopped a handful of steps away from it.

“I know you’re there, Spy,” he said, holding his gaze on the space above the dispenser. Damn, Spy had been planning on surprising him again as soon as he got close enough to touch. “I been feeling your eyes crawling all over me for a while now.”

After a quick check to make sure he was disguised – he’d made that mistake a grand total of once and Engie still brought it up sometimes – Spy lifted his watch and turned off his cloak. “Howdy partner.”

“Why you always gotta disguise yourself as me? It’s weird.”

“That’s why I do it.” Spy slid off the dispenser to stand in front of him. “How’d you know I was in here though?” He’d not been seen by anyone sneaking in and hadn’t made any noise as far as he knew.

“You’re always here at the start of a battle in this godforsaken fort. And if ya didn’t sap anything when I left, that must mean you ain’t interested in fighting today. Which I don’t blame ya for ‘cause nothing ever much happens ‘round here. And I happen to know you favorite spot is atop the dispenser.”

“Ah, I see.” Seems Spy was also predictable at times. He would change it up next time, hide in the corner or atop the desk. Maybe on top of the sentry after it was finished being upgraded. Not as comfortable a spot to perch as the dispenser but it would be worth it to surprise Engie. “That does ruin my surprise but I suppose that’s fine.”

“You can’t win them all. Now move. I gotta upgrade my dispenser and then my teleporter. We can hang out and chat after. Also, change your damn disguise before someone else comes down here and sees we’re being friendly with each other when we ain’t supposed to be. Do Pyro, he’s hanging out with yours today to do whatever the two of them get up to whenever they slack off together.”

Spy didn’t see the point of upgrading everything other than the gun to secure the stalemate but he stepped aside anyway. If it made Engie happy then he was welcome to do it, it’s not like they were in a rush after all. Besides, Spy liked watching him work.

ALT

TF2 ‘Drabbles’: Eyelander and Puppy - Chewtoy

'Summary’: What exactly were Eyelander and the Dalmatian puppy doing during the events of the comics?

[A/N] I feel like the entire time they were alone together the dog was properly doing something Eyelander.

TF2 Drabble: Heavy/Medic - New Chess Partner

Summary: A big, chess-playing creation… is Medic trying to make Heavy jealous, or does he have a more complex plan?

[A/N] More of Medic’s ‘Frankenstein’ story line.

~

“I know what Doctor is trying to do.”

Medic, who’d intentionally not reacted to Heavy’s approach, looked up at him now with feigned surprise. “Do you now? And what exactly am I trying to do?”

Herbert, Medic’s corpse creation looked up from their chess match too but of course didn’t say anything because it couldn’t speak. Its expression was unreadable.

“Trying to make me jealous with new chess partner.” At first Medic had seemed merely busy creating Herbert but now that Herbert was finished he’d been playing chess solely with it. He always made sure to do it in the middle of the common room too, making it impossible for Heavy to not walk in on them.

Lifting a hand to his chest, Medic let out exaggerated gasp; feigning shock and offense. “Why ever would I do such a thing? Why would I even think you’d care when you can just play chess with that other Medic. I’m sure he’s plenty decent at the game so you’re not missing much by not playing with me.”

Heavy barely held back a groan. Of course Medic wasn’t over that yet. He wasn’t one to drop things that easily. Heavy had explained that his friendship with the enemy Heavy and Medic didn’t infringe on whatever he and Medic had going on. That it had started with just the other Heavy so he could converse with someone in his native language. The enemy Medic was fluent in Russian too and thus ultimately ended up being part of those hangouts sometimes. It had never been anything like what he had with Medic, whatever that even was.

Stubborn as always Medic had jumped to conclusions upon finding out and refused to listen to reason and had now made a whole new person just to make Heavy jealous. The worst part of which was that it was working. Meaning Heavy couldn’t be dismissive of Medic’s jealously anymore because he was also jealous now too. It was stupid. Both of them should be beyond such petty nonsense but apparently they weren’t.

With a snort, Medic looked back down at the chess board to make his move. “This has nothing to do with you. I wanted to make a guy to see if I could and of course it turns out I can because I’m basically a god at this point.” That part probably held a lot of truth to it. His going out of his way to play chess with it out in the open during times he knew Heavy was likely to come upon them though wasn’t related to that. “I am merely testing Herbert’s intelligence.”

Herbert made its move next. A decent move but not the one Heavy would’ve made. It was falling for Medic’s trap. Tempting as it was to offer it advice, it would probably learn best on its own.

“It is remarkable,” Heavy had to say because it was quite the achievement. Medic’s genius was almost unparalleled.

“That other wanna-be doctor couldn’t do anything half as impressive.”

Heavy doubted that. The enemy Medic was one of the few who could give Medic a challenge for the title of smartest person alive. There was no need to say that when it would only make Medic angrier though.

Speaking of Herbert though, fighting in front of it wasn’t wise. According to Medic’s tests it was a fully cognizant person. Making fighting in front of it, especially since said fight involved it, uncomfortable at best. Heavy should’ve realized that before approaching. Oops. This ‘fight’ with Medic was getting out of hand, they needed to settle it. “We talk in private later, Doctor.” Not waiting for a response, he turned and left.

TF2 Drabbles: Demo/Soldier - Should Say Something

Summary: I would like another drabble having to do with Boots N’ Bombs or just about the WAR! update in general, What happened after the WAR update and after the time skip the BLU Soldier and RED Demo finally at peace with one another or if they are evern willing to forive the other or them selfs at all for what happened.

~

First they’d been enemies and then somehow they’d become friends only for their bosses to intervene and render them enemies once more. What were they now though? They were unofficially meeting again. Tuefort had two bars but they were both still going to the same one at about the same time every Saturday evening.

Soldier was late today but before Demo could do much more than realize that, the doors opened and in marched Soldier. He strode over and sat next to Demo even though there were plenty of other places to sit at the bar and most of the tables were free. Not looking at Demo, he waited patiently until the bartender came over for his drink order; beer because it was ‘the most American drink’. Demo had never had the heart to tell him that most people associated beer more with Germany than the States.

Even once he got his drink, Soldier didn’t turn to look at Demo. They’d been doing this song and dance for several weeks now. They’d sit here and drink, at best occasionally exchanging small talk. Ostensibly they still hated each other… or more Soldier still hated Demo as that hate had never been fully reciprocal. Despite that Soldier still came here every Saturday to sit next to Demo and drink, often staying longer and drinking more than he had before.

Demo should say something. Maybe apologize though he’d done so before. He could try to explain again that he’d never called or even thought of Soldier as a civilian, that the video of him doing so had been fake. He’d had this thought last week and the week before that and maybe even the one before that one – he couldn’t rightly remember – and he hadn’t said anything then so was he actually going to now? He should. How to start though? He hadn’t called Soldier a civilian but he had still betrayed him and leaned into the fighting once Soldier made it clear he was angry enough to take it seriously.

So Demo really should say something to try to repair their relationship back to something that at least resembled proper friendship. In time they could get there in truth. He wanted that, had wanted it for a while. So why wasn’t he doing it? … Because taking the first step to change something was always the hardest.

He’d say something next week. Three drinks in to Soldier’s just starting, he was too drunk today. Next week he’d go easy on the Scotch until Soldier showed up, leaving him sober enough for the conversation. For today, he downed the last of his drink and gestured for the bartender to pour him another.

TF2 Drabbles: Pryo/Medic - Jaunty Tune

Summary: AU: the walls are thin, and two characters can hear each other’s music practice. One day, one of them starts providing accompaniment for the other.

~

Pyro was playing his little keyboard again. It was a bit muffled by the intervening wall but Medic could hear it just fine. It was a simple jaunty tune. Pleasant but alone and muffled it sounded incomplete, like it was missing something.

Medic could fix that, couldn’t he? Maybe he shouldn’t. He had stuff to do but well, nothing particularly urgent. It had been a while since he last practiced the violin. Letting his skills degrade too far would make whenever he did pick it up again more frustrating.

Turning his attention to the closet, he rooted around until he found the case in the back. He placed it on the bed, allowing him to open it and pull it out. It was out of tune of course. That was an easy fix though.

Once done, he lifted it up to place on his shoulder, the bow held over the strings. He focused on Pyro’s tune, swaying with it a little until he got the gist of it. Then, putting bow to strings, he played along, adding a jaunty melody. It probably wasn’t the best but it didn’t matter much anyway, it was just for fun.