I loves me some intellectual heavy. So far this looks interesting. I like the potential problem of Medic not only being married but his wife being nearby (that's a new one to me).

oh my, this is just...wonderful! its short which is disappointing but it keeps us wanting more right? Doktor you never disappoint do you!? cant wait for the next part.

Of course there will be more. But I'm serious when I say I want your input - I'd like to try to write a story with suggestions or ideas from the community at large. Hence, I want to know if there's anything you lot would like to see or that you think would be an interesting addition to the story.

Command me and my fearsome writing talents!

smart!Heavy is my favorite Heavy, and I look forward to seeing more of a story written from his point of view.

My only suggestion, and one that you may be looking into already and that I utterly can't help with, (though, I do have a list of non-Russian artists and authors that I like to imagine various members of the team would like) would be to familiarize yourself with Russian lit.

Oh jeez, Doktor, another? You've already got me hooked on Butterfly Knife, and now I'm pretty sure this one will keep me coming back as well.

Goddamnit, man. How dare you add to my list of things to keep up with.

Anyways, I really don't see anything I can offer in the way of crit... sorry for that. Your intellectual take on Heavy is great, and I can't wait to see how your Medic is portrayed. Keep up the good work, I suppose.

Not a bad beginning and I like this new angle for what might keep them apart. I think I would really like for Medic's marriage to be a good one. Not lovey-dovey or cold and distant but something comfortable and organic. They're not perfect but they don't bicker constantly either. I would especially love this to turn into a three-way since Heavy has already stated he'll sleep with both sexes and at the same time. Extra awesome if she's a red-head, given Poker Night at the Inventory.

Honestly? With the way this is sounding, I really like the concept of it turning into a proper Ménage à trois. Not certain of ideas for how Heavy can get that started. Perhaps Spy's sex-life is discussed and Scout asks him if he ever had one of those, since Spy is French and it's a French term, while Heavy and Medic are hanging around. Then Heavy asks what Medic's general opinion on such is, which could be whatever gives the plot more interest.

I think it'd be kind of funny if Medic's wife had been mentioning the idea of a threesome for a few years and had recently brought it up again, given all the men at the base with Medic, but Medic says he's been trying to talk her into a three-way with another woman instead and Heavy decides to give him some practical advise.

Also, I think it'd be so awesome if Medic and Heavy have a little conversation where they both express mild displeasure at how their English hardly compares to their respective native languages and how they feel a bit stupid whenever they use English because they know it well enough to know they don't sound nearly as smart as they truly are when using it. After that they decide to share a little of their own languages, teaching a bit to one another, but don't go all out because they know it would take a lot more time than they want to invest currently.

Would love it if Medic's wife is also pretty smart and Heavy takes a sincere liking to both of them.

Very interesting start... I always love seeing intelligent Heavy. I can't say that I really want to see Medic's wife involved as much as the last reply, but it would be a refreshing change to see his relationship with her not as bad as what's normally portrayed. Could go either way with that, really.
I'd kind of like to see Medic feel guilty after being involved with Heavy.

Looking forward to your portrayal of Medic in this one.

I must admit that I kind of like the idea of Medic's wife being a beard. I see one of those marriages of convenience/safety...a situation where they're close friends, but not lovers. Vita Sackville-West and Harold Nicholson had a marriage like that, where they both had same-sex lovers on the side. I would love to see something like that--a loving, genuine relationship with Mrs. Medic being a dear, trusted friend but ultimately a beard, because Medic isn't into the lady-types. (Which would then pull in a possible affair, if Demoman is to be believed on the subject.) Just a thought.

What anon #7 said.

I've seen bitchy/cold medicwife too many times. It's nice but a decent marriage would be fun to read. Especially to see what would Heavy do.

I agree with Anon7 as well...

Hot damn, you just keep coming and coming. Yay.

I like Intellectual Heavy, Heavy is good that way. Now, as for suggestions, all I ask is to not make it...rapey.

Like, try and have Heavy be absolutely sure Medic would be willing to go through with something like this, before trying anything too aggressive.

I mean, especially if he's going all secret on this.

Captcha: Het setsmand

I think Captcha agrees with us.

I'm Anon #7 and I just wanted to say that while I still like my idea of a threesome, if Ze Doktor wants to run with the beard idea then I would be equally happy, as long as Medic's wife ends up in a wonderful affair with Demoman. Alternatively, Medic's wife and Miss Pauling having a wonderful affair would work as well. Actually, you know what? ANYONE with Medic's wife since, at this point in time, we have no idea what she is like and who she would fall for would really depend on her personality. I just want her to be happy since it's so rare that she is.

Anon#13: Perhaps the Demoman can take care of a few things in that department?

Anon#9. Sweet mercy, Medic's Wife and Miss Pauling would make my life worth living forever. If that happens, I may never die.

I'm taking note of everything as I write, and I'll toss in as many nods to different ideas as I can without contradicting myself. So keep the ideas flowing :P I can't tell you when I'll use them, only that I'll try to include as much as possible.

------------------------------------------

PART TWO: IN WHICH THE FIRST OBSTACLE IS REVEALED


There were several possibilities open at this point. Medic might be persuaded to have an affair, with or without his wife's knowledge; he might leave her entirely; or she might be encouraged to join in. Heavy was inclined to disregard the final option, unfortunately. He knew nothing of the woman in question, but the doctor didn't seem like the type to be that adventurous in bed. Although he thought it quite likely that he could be brought around to the idea of sex with a man, Heavy suspected that the suggestion of a ménage à trois would be too much, too soon.

It was a little early to discount it, however. Much would hinge on the character of Medic's wife. If there had been children as well, he probably would not consider this attempt at seduction at all due to the risk of further complications, but as it stood, he was willing to try and see what the result would be.

And so he found himself in Engineer's truck, speeding along the dirt road that lead from their base to the local town. Medic was squashed in beside him, checking a list of things they needed to get from the store. Heavy had professed a desire to patronize the bar, and Engineer had been all too happy to join him once the shopping was done. Medic, of course, wanted to visit his wife.

“What time we meet you at bar?” he asked over the roar of the engine.

Medic pursed his lips. Such an endearing gesture, Heavy thought. An enticement to kiss them, if anything. “I zink only an hour after ve are done viz ze shop,” he replied. “I vill go to see Ilse, und ve vill come vhen she is ready.”

“Is good.” Heavy fell silent for a moment, carefully considering his choice of conversation, and the possible information he could gather. “Doktor is ver' lucky, to have wife so close.”

“You got that right, big guy,” Engineer chimed in. “My girl's still back home in Texas, an' she ain't the sort to jus' up and move every time I get assigned to another base. I gotta say, I miss her like nothin' else.”

“Ja, I am fortunate to haf Ilse,” Medic said, smiling a little. “She has followed me everyvhere since I joined ze BLU company. I vish I could visit her more, but my vork takes up much time.”

“Doktor does not visit every day?” Heavy asked, nudging him playfully.

“Nein, I cannot – it is an hour to drive, und I haf no car. Also zere are many reports to do in ze evening vhich cannot be delayed.” He shrugged. “Such is ze vay of zings. Ve are boz used to it.”

“Must be hard, still. Go see on weekend maybe?”

Medic shook his head, and folded up the list to tuck it into his pocket. “Sometimes I can only see her vunce every two or zhree veeks because I am too busy. It is annoying, but ze money is vorz it. Vhat about you, Herr Heavy? Do you haf ein liebhaberin vaiting for you in Russia?”

Heavy laughed. “I do not. Sascha is only wooman for me!”

They all chuckled, and the conversation wandered elsewhere. Heavy was quietly deliberating over what he had learned, however; Medic only saw his wife occasionally, and this arrangement was normal? That did not bode well for the state of their relationship. Perhaps German women were a different breed, but Russian females were lusty and hot-blooded creatures who would not be satisfied with so little attention. He became even more curious about Ilse.

A few hours later, he was sitting outside the bar with Engineer and enjoying a pint of what apparently passed for quality beer in these parts. Heavy had to resist the urge to call for whiskey or vodka or even wine. It would probably not be much better, and he thought it a sensible option to keep his more obvious refined tastes hidden for now. Playing the part of a simple brute seemed to help people relax around him.

The evening sun was pleasant, and the Texan was polite company at least. He was more than happy to chatter on about his home and his family, and Heavy was content to listen. He still had to get used to Engineer's odd accent, and any opportunity to pick up a little more English was welcome.

They were not waiting long. Heavy had only finished half of his drink before he spotted Medic approaching with a slim figure on his arm.

She was half a head shorter than the doctor, with a narrow face, expressive green eyes, and artfully styled red hair. She was very pretty, in fact, and younger than he had expected; at a guess, she could not be more than thirty. Heavy might have liked her himself, but she was just too small. He preferred his partners to be closer to his own size, if only so that he would not crush them in bed.

They stood as Medic and Ilse approached. Engineer pulled out a chair for her, showing that he knew something of courtesy despite his small-town upbringing. She took it with a nod and a smile as Medic introduced them.

“Zis is Engineer, und Heavy – two of ze ozzer mercenaries at my base. Meine Herren, zis is Ilse, my dear vife.”

“Howdy, ma'am – hope you're enjoyin' this lil' slice of America,” Engineer said. He waved at a waiter to order some more drinks, and looked around for another chair for Medic.

Heavy bowed as gracefully as he could, and gently kissed her hand. “Pleased to meet, Ilse,” he said, and smiled warmly at her. “I see Doktor ver' lucky man, to have such beautiful wife.”

He watched her blush, and picked up on the fact that Medic did not react. It could easily be construed as polite flattery, but Heavy expected to see some hint of guardedness in response to what was essentially a flirtation with his woman. He saw nothing, which suggested their relationship was either very trusting or not quite what it seemed.

They all sat, and the conversation resumed. Heavy was content to observe as much as possible. She was a student of language, it seemed, and spoke English flawlessly in comparison to Medic's thickly accented speech. Her eyes frequently went to him as she spoke, despite her reserved demeanour, and she often touched him on the arm or shoulder for emphasis as she talked. Heavy could see it in her eyes, too; Ilse cared for her husband, although to what extent, he did not know.

What would she think, he mused, if she knew that the broad, virile Russian man sitting across from her was planning to steal him away?

Oh man stuffs starting to happen!

Hmmmm I cant really think of anything to critic on this story... All I can say is... Good job!

I really hope Heavy can make it into a threesome.

I love all the observation and perceptiveness (woo mystery novels!); I always find those a joy to read, and from Heavy it's even better.

Though honestly, can't say I am excited about Medic's wife being involved bedroom-wise, but I would gladly read whatever you wrote either way.

Can't wait!

Great update. Hot damn, I never knew I could love smart Heavy so much.

And Anon #7/13 - yessss love the ideas

First reaction: Ewwww girl. Ewww wife. EWWWW.
Second reaction: Heavy trying to steal Medic away? Okay.. I think this may be good..
Final reaction: MUST FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS.

Agreed with #19.

Your writing is excellent; looking forward to more of it.

I really like the direction this is going and definitely adore smart!Heavy. At some points I think his intellectual quirks are a bit exaggerated though - but I don't know if it's just me. Maybe it's that Heavy himself clearly seems to acknowledge being above everyone else. It's a bit disturbing, and I'm not sure if it fits at least the canon Heavy's hearty personality. I think that the writing style and choice of words could be almost enough in themselves to portray him being an intellect. But that aside, I can't wait for more! :)

Yeah, I'm writing him with something of a superiority complex. It's intentional, trust me, but probably not fitting with the canon.

Sorry. If people really want stories that are absolutely faithful to the setting, they probably shouldn't read my stuff. I will disregard it at will if I think it makes for a better plot or whatever.

Once again I am breathless. The sheer thought of an intelligent mind going on behind Heavy's thick scull, is BRILLIANT. Love it! More, please, my good Doctor.

Ze Doktor, it's not like TF2 has deeply ingrained canon anyway. I mean, it involves two sets of complete clones all over the world killing each other. I think alternate character development is accepted just fine.

"miquir rietmeijer" - I think ReCaptcha is insulting me in Swedish. I DO NOT WRITE IKEA PORN DAMMIT! NOT EVEN WHEN I HAVEN'T SLEPT!

Tirrrrrrreddddd....

--------------------------------------------

PART THREE: IN WHICH A FUNDAMENTAL TRUTH IS DEMONSTRATED


Ilse proved to be astute and enjoyable company. She spoke English, French and Polish fluently, and although her Russian needed a little work, she was still the closest Heavy had come to a native comrade in at least six months. He even had the chance to speak to her alone when Engineer had to chase down the waiter to get their bill, and Medic went to use the restroom.

“This must be very strange for you, to move around so much in a foreign country,” he said. “Has the Doctor ever considered settling down somewhere, or returning to Germany?”

She chuckled, hiding her mouth with her hand. “Oh, I apologize – sometimes I forget that you are not allowed to know each other's names. It always seems so odd, no matter how many times I meet my husband's teammates.”

He smiled, and laughed with her. “Yes, it is a little silly.”

“He is so caught up in his work that I doubt I could persuade him. And we are very well provided for, of course. The Builder's League has been very generous to us, and to me in particular.”

Ah. It was only a hint, but Heavy was observant enough to discern the brief flash of resentment at the mention of Medic's research. It seemed his first hypothesis was at least somewhat correct; the good Doktor was neglecting his lovely wife, even if he did not realize he was doing it. “It must be difficult to be kept apart from him so much,” he said gently, patting her hand. “I find it hard to imagine why he would be so involved in his work, when he has you to distract him from it.”

More flirting. She smiled and blushed, as expected, and pulled her hand away. Its purpose was twofold; to gauge her reaction to other men, and to have her think about the injustice of Medic not paying her enough attention. It was quite clear, to Heavy at least, that she was faithful to the Doktor, and the slightly pained expression that she tried to hide behind the wine glass revealed her feelings on the matter at hand.

The others returned. The drinks were paid for by the company, within reason. They would have to return to the base before it got much darker. There was another battle due to start in the morning, and a good night's sleep would do much to prepare them for it. The truck was parked nearby along with the essential groceries they had bought, and Heavy and Engineer said their goodbyes to Ilse before moving away to let Medic say his.

Heavy sat in the cab, and watched them covertly in the side mirror. The Doktor could have stayed the night, if he was prepared to get up early and hitch a ride to the base in the morning. Ilse certainly wanted him to, from the way that she touched the front of his uniform and looked at him with such longing. But Medic was shaking his head and saying something earnestly, before taking her hands in his and placing a chaste kiss on her fingers. Heavy wanted to shake his head in resignation; honestly, what man would refuse his wife if he truly loved and wanted to be with her?

He thought on that as they returned along the dusty road. Ilse seemed like a pleasant, intelligent woman, one he was inclined to view favorably in spite of her being a rival for Medic's affection. He felt sorry for her, and her frankly terrible situation. Women needed love, and comfort, and reassurance; beyond that, they were still human, and they had many of the same desires as men. She deserved someone who would give her all that without reservation, without excuses. Heavy, of course, would be happy with the kind of casual physical relationship that would not command much of Medic's precious time.

He decided that, if he were to attempt to disrupt his friend's not-so-happy state of matrimony, he should find a new suitor for Ilse who would treat her far better than Medic did. Considering how long he knew the Doktor had been with the company, she was certainly due a little more happiness.

He decided that, if he were to attempt to disrupt his friend's not-so-happy state of matrimony, he should find a new suitor for Ilse who would treat her far better than Medic did.
MMMMM DO I SENSE SOME DEMO ACTION ABOUT TO TAKE PLACE? Do ho ho - I can hardly wait.

>>21
I can't explain why this annoyed me as much as it did, but it did. I mean, GROSS A WOMAN. THEY'RE LIKE, WALKING VAGINAS WITHOUT FEELINGS AND JUST WANT TO GET IN THE WAY OF SWEET, SWEET necrophiliaZ.

Maybe I'm over-reacting. I probably am, considering the time of day and my state of mind and the fact that I just recently got doped up because my mouth is still killing me. But I'm still watching you.

Continue please, Doktor. In the meanwhile, I'll try to stop being such a lazy ass and do something for my crappy story, too.

Gorram it, wordfilters. Gettin' in the way of me saying that certain term coined for drawing of pretty-boys hassing hawt sexin'z. You stop that.

Why is everything so funny to me aaaaugh.

This damned site has made it so "Doktor" looks like a perfectly accurate and normal spelling.

Other than that, I like where the dynamics are going for this...

i have this feeling i know who heavy is gonna have in mind but i wont say! no spoilers even if im dead wrong but i eagerly await to see who heavy is thinking of! im glad heavy thinks of her well, at least he is going to be polite about stealing her man away! i like that you made medics wife someone likable and kind...most would probably have gone "shes a bitch" route but yours is much more interesting to read about and makes the reader feel something about every character involved.

i love medics wife is likable, i love that heavy is a kind thief and i love that medic is very clueless! pleas continue soon!

Captcha says rousing. I agree!

I am happy to see how this is unfolding though I am sad if Ilsa didn't understand it was a marriage of convenience from the beginning. I hope she doesn't end up feeling too guilty about finding comfort somewhere else... or at least that Medic eventually helps to soothe it, intentionally or not.

Also eager to find out how Heavy goes about the actual seduction of Medic. I'm not certain what to suggest myself. It would also depend on what exact relationship Medic has with his wife.

Is he gay or is he simply bisexual and very repressed/workaholic? The scene with her asking him to spend the night makes it so I don't know for certain whether he is using Ilse as an unwitting or a knowing beard (and therefore she was simply looking for friendly comforting.)

What does Medic do in his free time when he's just relaxing? Does Medic tend to spend his time alone or does he enjoy hanging out with the team? Is Medic close friends with any of the team? I like the idea of him playing chess with someone, likely Heavy or Engineer.

Perhaps Medic is a workaholic and it isn't easy getting him to join in the fun. When he does show up outside his office to hang out, it's less the stress and more a touch of loneliness that brought him to them. Maybe Engineer is the same way and explains as much to Heavy.

What does Heavy like doing? Reading obviously but maybe he could try coaxing Medic into something more physical (sporty?), with the other guys, and see how he reacts to that, especially if he touches him a little more than usual. If Medic is willing to agree to it in the first place.

It would be funny if Heavy found out that Medic had actually hit on one of the guys before, sometime ago, and it failed horribly so he never wants to speak of it again. Don't know how that would work out for the story though.

>maybe he could try coaxing Medic into something more physical (sporty?), with the other guys, and see how he reacts to that, especially if he touches him a little more than usual.
AAAAH SUCH THINGS I HAVE PLANNED.

Fucking hell I'm so tired. Give me more ideas.

If you've seen Behind the Scenes of Meet the Medic on TF2's website, there's a video of Medic decapitating a spy and performing a blood transfusion between the corpse and Heavy, pumping the blood out of the dead body with his foot. I would love to see this moment immortalized in fic form.

>>34 Maybe so, but I personally don't think this is the fic for that. I mean it's Doktor's decision, but this fiction seems to be pretty standard as opposed to guro-related.

Maybe you should check out the request thread instead?

...It's also nice having a story like this where the ol' ball-and-chain is actually depicted as a sympathetic character, (and is seen as such by the protagonist) instead of an unpleasant shrew or a faceless roadblock.

I'm joining the chorus of the others for approval of how you've written Medic's wife, and Heavy's positive interaction with her.

>>28 's thought of Heavy setting her up with Demoman could be a mine of comedy gold. Though I'm not sure how Heavy would come by that through the means of his own logic. (But I guess he is a fun drunk, and the lady seems to need some 'fun'.)

Perhaps Demoman could express his interest in Ilse when Heavy mentions that he met her earlier that day? (While Medic isn't there, of course.) That would easily motivate Heavy to persuade Demoman to give it a proper go with her but also cautioning him to be careful and not to be too pushy in case Ilse isn't interested in return.

It would, naturally, be easier if Ilse already had an interest in Demo and also entirely possible, especially if Demoman had been flirting with her for awhile and she simply hadn't given in yet out of a misguided sense of loyalty (or simply for fear the rest of the team would find out and mock Medic or else figure out why Medic was ignoring her.)

Heavy might've heard about Demo's affections through drunken rambling...
And what if Demo is suavely sincere, and sort of sweeps Ilse off her feet? And what if he's also everything Medic's not a the moment-- attentive, a little more sensitive to Ilse's situation, &c.? And while Demo's busy serenading Ilse, Heavy might take a gander at Medic... oh, the possibilities. Doc, I am enraptured by your intellectual Heavy and his relationship problems.

Captcha: casanova
captcha would like some

>>34

Wat.

>>38
>>39

Still taking notes here. :P

Anon #34 here. I can guarantee you that this is/can be made romantic.

Of course it can be made romantic. That isn't the point.

What you are describing would be better from the Medic's POV (or even the Spy's perhaps) and this story is decidedly from Heavy's. It also has nothing directly to do with Medic's wife or Heavy's hidden intelligence, which are small but key focal points already established. I therefore feel it requires its own separate fic and probably wouldn't mesh well with this one.

Mention it in the request thread and let it shine on its own, as it should.

PART FOUR: IN WHICH THE FIRST FORAY IS CONDUCTED

Ilse was a problem, one that required a high level of careful finesse, but Heavy had more pressing matters to attend to while he formulated an overall strategy. All his work would come to nothing if Medic were not predisposed to like him at least, and that meant he had to gain the man's friendship and eventual trust.

Socially speaking, this proved to be rather difficult. The Doktor was not given to spending time with the team after the day's battle, and even much of his weekend was taken up with medical reports or tests. Such was the nature of his schedule that he rarely had time to leave the base at all; in the first month, he only visited Ilse once more, despite regular trips being made by Engineer and Sniper.

Heavy's heart ached to think of how lonely she must be. Abandoned in a strange country, and of a nationality that was a former enemy of the state, the poor woman could not have many friends or companions. He found himself growing rather annoyed at Medic for his indifference, even as he recognized that this clearly worked to his advantage.

He decided that the best way to spend time with the Doktor was to be involved in his work. Their brief conversations at mealtimes or in battle were not really conducive to forming any great attachment; they were far too public, and filled with too many distractions. If he were to connect with Medic on any meaningful level, he would have to be interested in the one thing that absorbed most of his attention. Luckily, Heavy was no stranger to the nuances of academic pursuits – although the language barrier could be something of an issue.

He found his chance to make the initial contact when Medic failed to show up for dinner after one heated day of fighting. The Doktor had pulled off an interesting trick – that of Ubercharging two people at once – and doubtless he wanted to catalogue the effects in full. Heavy took some leftovers and a cup of coffee, wincing at the blandness of the food and wishing he had something better to offer, and walked to the infirmary to see if Medic was hungry.

He balanced the plate on his arm and knocked politely before opening the door. “Doktor, you are here? Hello?”

The room was empty, but there was a muffled voice from the small office at the back. Heavy picked his way past the gurneys and boxes of records, and looked around the doorjam to see the object of his affections sitting at the desk.

Medic stood up awkwardly as he entered, clearly unused to anyone intruding on his space. The only other chair was piled high with paper and binders, and his desk was awash with notes and lists of figures. Even the shelves groaned under the weight of medical textbooks, and other more esoteric tomes were stacked precariously around the floor.

“Herr Heavy! I am zorry, if you vill excuse ze mess – I haf not time to clean up zince arriving here,” he said hastily, and began trying to clear the chair and some of the floor. Heavy chuckled and set the plate and cup down on top of his notes, his gaze taking them in as he did so – blood tests, probably provided by the Respawn system, and readouts of vital signs.

“Is fine, Doktor. I bring dinner. Is bad you do not eat, da? Cannot do work with no food.” He pushed him away from the chair, and pointed at the meagre leftovers. “You, eat.”

“Zank you, but I vas jus' going to go und get dinner myself – zere is no need to bring it to me.”

Heavy laughed. “Is too late now. All eaten by team. Doktor not know what time is?”

Medic looked at the clock hanging on the wall behind him, and gave a heartfelt groan. “Ach, nein, vhere do ze hours go?” He slumped back into his chair, and pulled off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose fretfully. “I haf zo much to do...”

Heavy cleared the last of the papers, placing them carefully on the floor, and sat down. He nudged the plate across to Medic, urging him to eat. “Come, Doktor – eat before get cold. You work too hard, da? Must eat or cannot fight.”

He left his glasses on the table, revealing very bright blue eyes, and took the coffee gratefully. Nothing more was said for a few moments as he ate the horrible leftovers with Heavy looking on approvingly.

“I think Doktor need help,” Heavy began cautiously when Medic was finished and sipping the coffee. “Is too much for one man, maybe.”

“Nein, I haf vorked alone for years,” he said. “I vill not impose on anyvun – zat vould not be fair. Besides, zis is all auf Deutsch – in German, I mean.”

Heavy hummed knowingly to himself. “In Russia, is bad for man get no break, even doing important thing. Need support, even little. I can help if want – clean up, put book away, get coffee. Make work more easy, da?”

Medic put his glasses back on. “You are very kind, Herr Heavy, but I cannot ask zat of you -”

“Nyet, I do not mind. Is little I can do for Doktor heal in battle. You are credit to team – should have help where need. If anything I can do, have only ask.”

He blushed at the compliment, and tried to hide it behind the cup. Heavy couldn't help smiling at him. It was one of those gestures that he did unconsciously; tiny things that made him so delightfully attractive. Medic was probably unaccustomed to much socializing or being given this much attention.

He cleared his throat. “Vell... if you are sure, zis place does need to be tidied,” he said shyly.

Heavy grinned, and collected the plate as he stood up. “Of course! I happy to help. Start tomorrow, so Doktor have time think of what need do. I promise do good job.” He debated on whether to linger and try to continue the conversation, but ultimately decided against it. He would have to get Medic used to his presence first, effectively as his assistant. “Doktor have good night – I see in morning.”

He waved goodbye and left, making a detour to the kitchen to drop off the plate. There was enough left in the night for him to retire to his room, and spend a few hours considering his next step. This was a good start, but to solve the problem of Ilse, Heavy needed more information – and that would mean questioning Medic without raising undue suspicion.

Time was key, of course. This would not happen overnight, nor in a month, or even longer still. No matter. He was prepared to be patient. Sooner or later, Ilse would have a new lover to fill her empty days – and he would have the Doktor naked in his bed, and begging to be taken.

Holy doly, i JUST looked at this and now it is updated! magic! this was a wonderful as every other bit of it! the last passage made me all warm inside! i Certainly hope its Demo man who charms Ilse...maybe Heavy notices Demo looking at a picture of a young red haired woman who was Demo mans previous love and is gone now? i dunno! very happy to see an update Doktor, wonderful as always mate.

How much do I love Evil Mastermind Heavy? So. So much. And yet, I hesitate to call him that even, as his master plan is so very far from evil. Thank you for making Mrs. Medic a real person. I look forward to how this unfolds.

So I'm running out of words of praise. No matter. Loving it as always.

ALWAYS.

Dat last sentence. Oh jesus, Doktor; do continue.

Oh. Oh God yes this is fantastic. Ah the little blush hrghh so damn cute.

gah, spectacular update, as usual! Love it!

Mmmmm. I liked the chapter as it was, but that last line made me excited. Nice work. I think it's a good idea to work with intelligent!Heavy. It seems to come more easily to you than the Heavy of your previous stories.

That Heavy is an evil genius. I love him. And please oh please let it be a Demo that gets Ilse.

Tired of looking at this section. You guys can have it instead.

-------------------------------------------

PART 5: IN WHICH A NEW FACTOR IS ENCOUNTERED

Becoming invaluable to Medic was much easier than Heavy had initially thought. He was a typical academic, focused entirely on his work to the exclusion of virtually all else even in the heat of battle. He was not absent-minded, per se, but he did display a certain level of indifference to more mundane matters. Heavy could have brought any kind of food at all, and Medic would have eaten it without complaint or comment.

Cleaning and organizing the infirmary was his main job, apart from making sure that Medic ate and slept normally. There was close to six years worth of obsessively detailed research stored in boxes of records and binders, describing the effects of the Medigun and the Ubercharge on combatants. Heavy had to ask what the point of it all was, one day.

“Vell, somevun must do zis,” Medic said, while he helped Heavy carry the older boxes into the store room. “Ze Medigun has not been in service for very long, und its long term effects are not known. Zere is also ze possibility...” He trailed off, looking embarrassed.

“There is what, Doktor?” Heavy was interested in spite of his unfamiliarity with the field of medical research.

He shrugged noncommittally. “I haf suspected zat ze Medigun can be changed, and ze Ubercharge can do... ozzer zings besides shielding. Sometimes I zink I might be close to a breakzhrough, but... it is hard to say. It vas created by anozzer Medic on ze RED team, und BLU stole ze plans. Ve do not know exactly how it vorks.”

“Be good for battle, da?”

“Ja, of course, vhich is vhy BLU allow me ze resources to do zis.”

It was an incredible prospect, of course, although Heavy had to wonder exactly what he had in mind for the Ubercharge energy. The possibility of using it in some offensive manner could potentially drive the balance of combat in their favor, and mean severe alterations to tactics and strategy in the field.

He didn't say all this, of course. His English wasn't up to the task. He had other issues to deal with, however – first among them being the search for a new beau for Ilse.

Heavy went with Engineer and Sniper to the town that weekend, ostensibly to help with the shopping again but really because he wanted to spend some more time around the local bar. There were several hurdles to overcome – the likely distaste of any American for a German, the fact that Ilse was married, the probable lack of any suitable men to begin with – but still, the bar was his most promising source for now. Early Saturday evening seemed like a reasonable time to investigate; not so late that there would be drunks around, but still late enough that there would probably be at least some regulars present. His teammates were all too happy to join him, especially when he insisted on buying the first round.

Medic did not come, saying that he had to read over some notes and finish cataloguing the week's reports. Heavy offered to take a message to Ilse for him, but was quickly rebuffed. He would call her tomorrow instead – and he did call, Heavy had noticed. It was rarely more than a courtesy, a minute or two of softly spoken German monotone that he couldn't understand. Not much by the way of actual emotion.

He made a mental note to find out what the German for 'I love you' was, so that he could determine whether either of them ever said it.

The bar seemed suspiciously quiet when the three of them approached it. Sniper decided that he'd rather not sit outside, and entered before they could disagree. Heavy frowned in annoyance. He would have liked to be able to observe the passers-by as well as the patrons, but for now he was still playing the role of the big, dumb brute, and it wouldn't do to argue.

He almost groaned in irritation when he saw how empty the place was. They sat up at the bar and ordered some beers, with Heavy trying to hide his swiftly worsening mood. Engineer seemed positively joyful that it was so quiet.

“Ain't this the life?” he said, leaning on the counter. “Been on a few bases where there weren't anythin' livin' for miles around, an' that gets real old on the weekend when all a man wants to do is kick back an' relax.”

Sniper drank the American beer with some distaste. “Crikey, this stuff's like bloody piss,” he grumbled under his breath. He gestured at Engineer with the bottle. “You should try livin' out in the bush. You relax out there and you're askin' fer something to poison you.”

The Texan waved him away, and nudged Heavy. “Whaddya do in Russia to relax, then? Been meanin' to ask you sometime.”

Heavy considered his response, and decided that the continuation of his current role would demand a certain level of crude language. He took a gulp of the beer and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, wincing inwardly at the taste. “Play chess, drink vodka, have sex with big woomen. Is like here but cold and boring.”

The other two laughed at the idea of sex being boring, which lead to some friendly banter about the libido of Russians in general. Heavy played up the jokes, enjoying the fact that it put them at their ease around him. They got onto the subject of women just as Engineer tapped Sniper's shoulder and pointed towards the other end of the bar.

“Hey boys, that down there look familiar to you at all?”

Heavy glanced at one of the only other customers. The man was sitting at the end of the bar farthest from the door, wearing a red T-shirt and nursing a glass of whiskey. His skin was almost as dark as his black beanie. Something about him did seem rather familiar.

“OI, YA RED TOSSER!” Sniper suddenly shouted, “I OWE YOU A BLOODY BULLET IN YER OTHER EYE FOR WHAT YOU DID TO MY BLOODY NEST LAST WEEK!” He leaped off his chair and charged at the man in a rage before either of them could stand up.

As he looked up, Heavy realized it was the Demoman from RED – probably here for some rest and relaxation, just as they were. And Sniper was about to get into a fight, in the only place in town that served alcohol and probably the only place where he was likely to find the man of Ilse's dreams.

He reacted quickly, chasing down the enraged Australian and pulling him off the Demoman before he could get a punch in. His superior strength made the action almost effortless as Sniper struggled and shouted at his enemy, who seemed all too ready to return the sentiment. “Ah'll knock yer teeth out, ye piss-swillin' gobshite!” he roared, and things quickly devolved into both of them trying to get past Heavy's bulky frame to get to the other. Engineer was distracted with placating the barman, who had already reached for the telephone to call the police.

Thankfully, Heavy was no novice when it came to breaking up drunken brawls. He grabbed them both by the front of their shirts and held them out at arm's length, then shook them like misbehaving dogs.

“ENOUGH!” he yelled, drowning out their snarling insults. “Is not time for fighting! If not stop, I throw you out onto face! UNDERSTAND?!”

That seemed to have the desired effect. Sniper shoved his hand off, and stalked out angrily. Heavy let the Demoman go, and he returned to his whiskey with a sneer after he smoothed down his shirt. “Ye'd better keep a handle on yer mate there, boyo, or he'll catch a bottle in the head.”

Heavy glanced back at Engineer, who had chased after Sniper, and the barman, who was slowly relaxing. He beckoned him over, and ordered another beer to reassure him that there would be no more altercations. After some thought, he tapped the RED on the shoulder as well. “You want drink?”

The man looked at him in confusion. “Why the bloody hell would ye buy me a drink?”

“Is weekend, da? No reason to fight, and this only bar in town. Barman not throw us out if think we good customer.” He sat down next to him, and pointed at his almost empty glass. “Hey – give bottle, please? Is fine now,” he said to the nervous barkeep, who swiftly complied. Heavy sat it in front of him, and picked up his own beer.

“Yer bloody daft,” he said, but without conviction. He refilled his glass, and clinked it off Heavy's bottle in a toast. “Cheers, then. Here's to the war, an' all that.”

He sounded rather bitter. Heavy took a drink thoughtfully. “What is name?”

“Ye can call me Demo. Ye'd be Heavy, aye? Same as our one?”

“Da, am call Heavy. I sorry for Sniper, he get angry for no reason. I know is not personal.”

Demo shrugged. “Makes no difference to me. 'Tis jus' the job, ye know? Although ah'm gettin' more sick o' doin' it every day at this point, ah'll tell ye that much.” He knocked back the whiskey and poured another measure. “I cannae get any more scrumpy in from home, either, so ah hafta come here to get a drink from now on. 'Tis drivin' me bonkers.”

“What is scrumpy?” Heavy asked curiously.

“Ye don' know?” Demo looked shocked. “'Tis the best bloody whiskey ye can get yer hands on, mate, come all the way from the highlands o' Scotland, no less! 'Tis strong stuff – put plenty o' hair on yer chest – but them bastards up in HQ won't send any more on account o' how it's tough to find, an' ah've only got another six months in mah contract.”

“Ah, maybe should not be telling, hm? I am still BLU.”

He gave that same dismissive shrug. “Dinnae care who knows, now. Ah'm no' comin' back an' they bloody well know it. This is just one way for 'em to make the rest o' mah time here miserable.”

Heavy considered that. It was the kind of petty and vindictive action that characterized BLU as well, and confirmed for him at least that the two sides were largely interchangeable. He felt a little sorry for him, even though he was on the other side. “Is problem,” he agreed. “Drink here not good then?”

“Nah. 'Tisn't the same.” Demo held up the glass and stared at it disconsolately. “This is about the strongest stuff they've got here, an' ye'd be laughed at if ye served it in Glasgow.”

Heavy stared at his own beer, and thought of the native drinks of his home country. “This is bad too. Russian vodka is much better, taste better. Have kick like angry horse.” He still drank it, at least. He'd already paid for it.

Demo chuckled at him. “Vodka, now there's somethin' ah haven't tried in years. Always thought yer lot'd hafta be pretty hard to drink that every Friday night. Ye could use it to strip paint!”

They shared a laugh, finding some camaraderie in the common subject. Heavy found himself warming up to the RED. He seemed like quite interesting company at least, which was in marked contrast to their own Demoman – a confirmed drunkard with questionable personal hygiene who was perpetually in danger of being kicked off the team for poor performance. It struck him as quite odd that RED and BLU would hire someone so similar in nationality and appearance for the same job. He could only put it down to some bizarre sub-clause in whatever agreement they had for the rules of engagement.

Heavy was suddenly struck by an unusual thought. “What are planning to do, after contract is done?” he asked.

The look of bitterness returned to the other man's face. “Ah'm no' sure. Ah were plannin' to go back home, buy a castle somewhere. Got plenty o' money outta this job, ye know?” He sighed, staring into his glass again. “Ah want to settle down. Ah'm well past gettin' tired o' this life, an' ah got enough to retire, so...”

“Is problem?”

“Aye, ah've got a problem alright,” he said, looking over at Heavy in exasperation. “Dunno if ye noticed, but ah'm a black Scottish cyclops, mate. Ah don' exactly have the wimmin beatin' down mah door. 'Tis hard to make plans fer a wife an' a couple o' bairns when ye have no prospects.”

Heavy considered this, the shape of this unusual thought growing in his mind. He looked Demo over critically. He was fit, being a mercenary, and, well, good-looking in a way that didn't really appeal to Heavy personally, but certainly acceptable. The eyepatch suited him. More importantly, he could offer a stable, comfortable home to a woman, and he wanted a family.

There were greater questions of whether he and Ilse were compatible on a personal level, but Demo seemed like a strong contender. Heavy felt quite pleased that he had discovered a potential mate so soon. He gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder, and poured another measure of whiskey into his glass.

“Ah, is not big problem – many woomen in world, da? Is someone for everyone! You will find, some day.” He raised his beer, grinning at Demo while the other man raised his own drink in a puzzled toast. “To future wife – may she be beautiful, and give many leetle babies!”

Yes, yes, YES!

I am so excited reading this. Go demo, go. There really needs to be more demo love in general.

This is so relevant to my interests I can't even.

Do go on, Doktor, this is wonderful!

Its always worth the wait Doktor! cannot wait to read more even if there is a long wait!

You write Scottish even better than you write German. It's very natural sounding-- I love it!

I'm really enjoying this story, Dok -- thanks for sharing it with us!

ooh I'm really digging this story. I don't really have anything to say to criticize!

I am loving this story so so much. Also I love Demo you write him so well! I'm very excited.

Oh, fantastic, again, Doktor. You're incredible.

I cannot wait for more.

PART 6: IN WHICH THE PLAN IS DEVELOPED

Heavy had taken it upon himself to properly organize all of Medic's research. It entailed learning a few words of German and a lot more English, but he was confident that he would be up to the task. Academics was largely the same regardless of the language used.

It was a boring job, unfortunately. It was the kind of thing that he had done during his post-graduate days in Moscow, that he had been looking forward to offloading onto some research assistants when he finally gained a teaching position. BLU had intervened before then, and the offer had been too lucrative to pass up. Just a few years as a mercenary, and he would be able to buy his way into any professorship in the world.

To alleviate some of the monotony of cataloguing, he had brought his own treasured record player into the main infirmary and set it up in the corner. He had a selection of classical music and jazz; light and pleasant listening, good for the spirit. This was also something of a surprise for Medic, who seemed chained to his office desk when he wasn't sleeping or fighting. Heavy suspected that he would like Vivaldi quite a bit, if only because he played the violin.

His personal favorite was a medley record that varied from energetic waltzes to soft, slow instrumental pieces. Heavy slipped it out of its sleeve and placed it carefully on the turntable, then lifted the needle to the first row of tiny, black ridges.

The Waltz of the Flowers filled the room, bringing back fond memories of the ballrooms of home and when he first learned to dance without feeling self-conscious. It never failed to make him smile, and conjured up warm, happy feelings. Heavy picked up the sweeping brush and had to resist the urge to spin across the floor with it.

“Heavy?” Medic appeared at his door, drawn out of his shell by the music. He looked curiously at the device, a shy smile playing across his lips. “Vhere did zat come from?”

He swiftly leaned the brush against the table, and pretended that he hadn't been thinking about waltzing with it. “Is mine, Doktor. Also records. Make work easy if have music to hear. You like?”

He held out the cover with the song list, and Medic came forward to take it. The Doktor shrugged helplessly, and chuckled under his breath before handing it back. “I cannot read Russian, mein freund.”

Heavy laughed. “Sorry. Forget. Is all good, I promise. Tchaikovsky, da? You know of him? Ver' famous in Russia, ver' nice for dancing.”

“Ja, of course! I do enjoy his vork – not dancing, I mean, only listening.” Medic looked at him sheepishly. “I never learned vhen I vas younger.”

Heavy looked a little surprised, while his mind began to churn through this new information. He could use it, oh yes, but his first thought was that if Medic could not dance, then Ilse likely did not either. He felt mildly irritated by that; their relationship was subdued, obviously, but this was simply ridiculous. What man would not dance with his wife? It begged the question of how Ilse had remained faithful at all.

It was possible that she hadn't, and was simply good at maintaining the facade of fidelity. If that were the case, he would simply have to find proof and use it to drive a wedge between them – carefully, of course, as Ilse could not be blamed for seeking comfort elsewhere and he would not let her suffer any more than she had already. Something to think about for a while at least. In the meantime, he could fish for a little background on their marriage.

He leaned on the counter and crossed his arms. “Is strange to me – you do not dance? In Russia, man must dance at wedding with new wife, so must learn or look like fool. Is not same in Germany?”

Medic looked a little embarrassed. “Vell, ve had a very small vedding. Ve vere young, und ve could not afford anyzing bigger, und I vas offered a research position in Hamburg zat I had to take up immediately. I vas never required to learn.”

“Must learn sometime. Is useful to know, I think.”

“Oh, I zink I haf ozzer zings to do viz my time now,” Medic said, waving him away. “Zere are more important matters in life zan dancing, Heavy.” He strolled back to his office, humming the tune under his breath. Heavy watched him with exasperation, and went to the storeroom to begin working on the boxes of binders.

It seemed clear that Medic was largely oblivious to Ilse's needs beyond the most basic material concerns. Whether it was intentional or not was debatable, and nothing would induce Heavy to ask him outright if he truly loved her. There were several possibilities at this point, most of which hinged on the Doktor's feelings. He was sure that Ilse's affection for her husband was real if nothing else.

He mused on that as he took down the first box full of binders. The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that Medic did not love her. Although most of his adventures had been casual rather than emotional, Heavy knew what true romance felt like; that aching, desperate need to be close to another person, as if their presence – their love – were the only thing worth having in the whole world. Medic's world, in comparison, was consumed by his research, and Ilse held only a small part of it.

The question of whether she could love another man in spite of what she felt for the Doktor was easily settled. Women were malleable creatures, in Heavy's experience. They followed their hearts with much less difficulty than men, and they knew by instinct where they would find happiness. He had no doubt that she would respond favorably to a determined, appropriate suitor.

Demo had said that he would be at the bar every weekend while RED continued to deprive him of his whiskey of choice. So... two concerns presented themselves; that of striking up a friendship with him, and that of finding a way to bring him and Ilse into contact with each other. The results would determine his next course of action.

The Blue Danube by Strauss began to play, and Heavy paused for a moment to conduct the first few bars with one of the binders. He suddenly had an interesting thought – if the Doktor became completely comfortable around him, could he possibly suggest teaching him how to waltz?

yes. a thousand times yes. Heavy must teach medic to waltz. Danke for the update! Cant wait for more already!

It's been said before, but I just love how you regard Ilse in this story. It makes me so happy that her feelings not only matter, but are actually a primary concern and plot point. I SO look forward to Heavy setting his plan with Demo into motion.

Heh. This is the second story you've had dancing, yes?

I take it you like it quite a bit, eh?

Guys, stay with me for a moment. I had the most horrible picture in my mind. You know those jackets with letters on them that jocks wear (what is sports?)? Okay, Heavy and a bunch of anonymouses were wearing them and cruising around and Medic was there, wearing teenage girls's clothes. Heavy was so cool that Medic looked up and blushed. A little later, one anonymous said, "Go for him; he's totally into you." Another said, "Yeah, ask him out to the dance."
I just imagined tf2chan: The high school movie.

YES. Ohmygod dancing is just. I think it's one of the most romantic things for two people to do together. I love the update, too. Naturally.
Also, I just felt the need to say once again, I love how much of an intellectual Heavy is. He's quite the multifaceted gentleman.

Cannot wait for more. Cannot wait for dancing. Keep it up, mein liebe.

>>64

Yeah, I just get a kick out of dancing. It's one of those things that can be anything from a little bit intimate all the way up to one small step away from sex. Such things I have planned. Heh.

>>65

If someone is brave enough to draw this, I promise you I will write it and give you the choice of either a Sweet Valley High or a 90210 ripoff.

Seriously? Besides Cat Bountry saying that my idea was cool for something, that is the nicest thing someone on the internet told me.

(sort of because Cat Bountry is my internet idol) Anyway,
Alright, not very good, but better than nothing. Maybe something to look at until somebody actually draws it.
http://tf2chan.net/workshop/res/2427.html
also, I draw good so someone might want to see. it was fun. why is anonymous with hat? is it because acheivement: HIGH SCHOOL? why didnt medic and heavy get hat? I just don't care about grammar any more.

((captcha: welove lamb. I refer to "The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway" sometimes as "The Lamb" and I love it. But "Foxtrot" is probably my favorite. Early Genesis rules; Later Genesis drools. In my opinion.))

HAH! You have pleased me with your offering, good sir. Make your choice - I shall write a story as you specify.

Hrm. I suspect this will require more than one section. Once Butterfly Knife and this story is done, I have a few one-shots to post and then I will start on this high school insanity.

Actually female, but I like "sir" better than "ma'am."
Okay, don't know either, but judging only from the openings, 90210. Also, could you use the term "going steady" in any context?
This may be the only good high school AU.
Thank you so much. You are nice!

This story will be some of the weirdest shit ever seen in the fandom. And now I have to go look up the plot and characters of Beverly Hills 90210, and somehow relate this to TF2. (FYI, I reserve the right to bend or break EVERYTHING to make this work, up to and including paranormal stuff and aliens.)

Must... resist... urge... to cackle...

Do want lots moar D:

Could this possibly get any more relevant to my interests? Maybe, but if it did my brain would probably explode. Intellectual!Heavy and the waltz, two of my weaknesses...

Up to my eyeballs in Heavy/Medic story ideas. MY EYEBALLS I TELL YOU.

I'm gonna have to get some ideas for other pairings, but something about the big giant Russian mercenary + the evil German mad doctor just calls to me, and my boner.

Anyway, here's the next part of whatever the hell this is. I'm tired of staring at it.

---------------------------------------


PART 7: IN WHICH THE STARS ARE CROSSED

Events drifted on. It took Heavy almost two weeks to meticulously catalogue everything in the storeroom, but Medic was certainly impressed with his diligence. The German's initially reserved manner began to fade as Heavy talked with him, joked about the team, and related stories of past battles.

He was easily embarrassed, it seemed, and frequently became flustered when faced with Spy's witty mocking or Scout's blatantly tawdry remarks. Heavy's first impression – that the good doctor was not particularly adventurous when it came sex – had to be swiftly revised downwards when Medic blushed like a schoolgirl during a particularly heated discussion on stripteases.

Engineer became another good friend to them both. His numerous Phds lent him a familiarity with academia that Heavy appreciated, and Medic enjoyed the company of another intellectual. The Doctor's chatter about his work usually went over their heads – his research was as much biological as mechanical, after all – but they both realized that sometimes, he needed to talk to get his thoughts in order. Besides, Heavy liked to listen. His work animated Medic in a way that nothing else did.

The infirmary was still their domain, overall. Engineer had his workshop, and his own projects, even though he had expressed an interest in helping to modify a Medigun when the time came to test the results. Heavy spoke to him most often when they went to the bar on Saturdays.

After some initial discomfort, and the liberal application of beer on Heavy's part, Sniper had accepted that Demo blowing up his nest was nothing personal. Once the threat of a fistfight had passed, Engineer warmed up to the RED as well, and the three became regular drinking buddies. It helped to break the monotony of the week, of course, when they could brag about their wins and lament their losses with a fellow mercenary who could provide the other side of the battle's story.

By now, Demo's terrible luck with the ladies was both well known and a source of amusement or pity.

“Look, boy, ya gotta start easy with a woman. Ya don't wanna scare her off or anythin' by comin' on too strong,” Engineer said, leaning back in his chair and gesturing at Demo with his beer. “I tell ya, they can smell desperation a mile away, and there ain't no way a lady's gonna get with a man who seems too needy.”

The Scotsman glared at him, clearly unimpressed. They were sitting outside today, and taking advantage of the pleasant evening sun. “Tisn't that, ye dumb Yank – have ye not noticed where we are? This isn't exactly a hive o' multiculturalism! If there be any black women around, they're bloody well hidden, so ah dunno who exactly ah'd be talkin' to even ah were inclined to find a wife in this dump of a town.”

Heavy frowned. “Is plenty woomen here. Where is problem?”

“Nah, he's got a point there, big guy.” Engineer sighed, staring morosely up and down the street. There were very passers-by around at this time. “I forget sometimes... Ain't nothin' ya can do if ya got no horses in your corral to start with.”

“How are horses woomen?” Heavy had already spotted the obvious conclusion behind the metaphor, but decided to play it dumb for now.

Demo shrugged, and refilled his whiskey glass. His ability to drink alcohol with seemingly no ill-effects was astonishing; he had almost sunk half the bottle already. “Dunno how it is in Russia, but this be America, boyo. No white lass'd be seen with the likes o' me. Bloody stupid country – no offence, Engie.”

“None taken.” The Texan was curiously liberal, considering where he had grown up, a fact which Heavy could only attribute to him being incredibly well educated. “Shame, though. There's plenty o' gals who'd jump at the chance to move to Scotland 'n' live in a castle.”

Very much a shame, Heavy thought, but there was only one of them that he hoped would seriously. consider that prospect. He still hadn't quite thought of a mechanism for bringing them into contact, unfortunately, and the time limit imposed by Demo's contract coming to an end did not help much. He drank his beer and mused on it, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the sky while the other two chatted about families.

“Enjoying the evening, Mr. Heavy?” A pleasant voice, speaking Russian, cut into his reverie, and he turned to see none other than Ilse. She wore a prim summer dress, covered in patterned red flowers to match her hair, and a broad hat to keep off the sun. A large folder was tucked under one arm, and she carried a bag of books.

“Ah, hello, Ilse!” he said quickly, standing up and smiling at this incredible serendipity just as much as at her. Engineer and Demo stood up as well to be courteous. “Am sorry, must speak English. Is nice evening, da?”

“Yes, of course. I did not expect to see you here, but I suppose you visit the bar every week?”

He laughed and nodded, then tapped himself on the forehead. “Ah! I forget manners. You are knowing Engineer, and this is Demo from RED team.” The two men in question stepped forward. “This is Ilse.”

Engineer tipped his broad hat at her. “Howdy, ma'am. Nice to see you again. I guess you're out for a walk on this fine day?”

She chuckled behind her hand, and shook her head. “No, no, although that would be lovely. I have found a job, if you must know, as a French tutor.” She nodded to Demo. “Pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure be all mine, lass,” he said with a wide, slightly crooked grin. Heavy noted his glazed expression.

Silence descended for a few seconds before Ilse bowed politely. “Well, I must be on my way home. I will leave you to your conversation. Good evening, gentlemen.”

She left just as quickly as she had arrived, walking on down the street towards home. They all sat down again, although Demo twisted around in his chair and watched her until she vanished from sight. He finally turned back to Heavy and poked him in the arm.

“How the bloody hell d'ye know a woman like that?” he asked, looking completely incredulous. Heavy couldn't help but feel a little offended at that, but at least it showed that the 'big dumb brute' act was working somewhat.

Before he could answer, Engineer waved the question away. “She ain't on the market, partner. That's our Medic's wife.”

“That uptight little bollocks is married to her?! Yer either pullin' mah leg or there's no fookin' justice in this world!”

Heavy laughed to cover his triumphant smile. “Is true, Ilse is wife of Medic. He lucky, she is ver' pretty lady.”

Demo scoffed indignantly. “'Ver' pretty',” he said mockingly, “Ah've seen plenty o' bonnie wimmin in mah life, mate, but this be the first time ah've met a goddess in the flesh.” He looked back again to the point where she had disappeared from view. “Bloody hell... 'tisn't fair, ah'll tell ye that much. Ah can only hope he knows how bloody lucky he is.”

“Yeah... about that...” Engineer shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “He don't see her more often'n twice a month, or close enough.” Heavy looked at him sharply. Of course, it wasn't surprising that someone else had noticed the Doctor's neglect, but he had expected Engineer to be too polite to say anything. The other man took his expression for something rather different, and threw up his hands defensively. “I know yer thinkin' it, Heavy! You know he don't treat her like he should! It ain't right, the way he's always stuck in his damn office instead of comin' to see her!”

He thought quickly. This was an unexpected development – again, rather serendipitous. If Heavy were inclined to believe in a god, he would have entertained the notion that such a deity were smiling on him today. Better to play it carefully, for now. “I say nothing,” he said slowly. “This not Russia, and is between Doktor and Ilse.”

“Bullshit,” Engineer said angrily. “No woman should have to put up with her man ignorin' her. It ain't right an' you know it.” He settled into his chair, grumbling around the beer bottle. Demo slumped over his whiskey, looking more dejected than ever.

“Someone like her with a man like him... yeah, 'tisn't right.” He sighed. “There dinnae be enough beautiful wimmin like that in the world. Ilse, yeah? She German too?”

“Da, is German. Speak many language. Ver' smart, I think.” Heavy finished the beer, and glanced sidelong at Demo. “You like wooman like her, hm? Red hair?”

“Aye, ah do. Somethin' about the eyes, too, but a lass with red hair always has fire in her soul.” He stared wistfully at his drink before knocking it back, then refilled his glass and took a gulp directly from the bottle.

He looked so depressed that Heavy had to reach over and pat him on the shoulder. “Do not worry. Someday you have pretty wooman. Must have faith, da?”

The barman had wandered out to collect the empty glasses, and after one look at Demo's face, Heavy asked for another bottle of whiskey.

please not a bump please not a bump IT'S NOT A BUMP!

OK. Good. Plot is rolling along nicely, and for some reason, I really want to see Demo and Medic fight before Heavy patches everything up.

"...A lass with red hair always has fire in her soul.” AHAHAHA

Keep up the great work.

Oh rapture, oh joy unbounded, there's more of this!

That's right, Demo, set your eye on the pretty redhead... I will join Heavy in the mental fiendish hand rubbing and muttering of 'excellent'.

(And I will keep my fingers crossed for future waltz lessons)

Love. Love. Love. I can't even wait to see where this goes.

Bonus - the theme song for this story is Pokerface, by Lady Gaga.

I love this story to Hell and back, but I have to say if there's one thing that bugs me to no end, it's the Heavy's characterization. I'm all for intellectual, evil genius, game-playing Heavy, but--unless maybe I'm just missing something--it really seems that that's all we know about him: he's smart and manipulative. He almost never has an emotional reaction to anything, beyond getting a little angry when his plans are muddled with and sometimes thinking the Medic is cute, and he barely ever does anything that doesn't directly relate to a premeditated purpose. Even something as romantic as waltzing becomes "oh, yes, I can use this to tactical advantage." Maybe I'm just not a perceptive reader, but he's starting to feel almost like a psychopath to me--coldly toying with other people just so he can get what he wants. Not to mention, his reasons for liking the Medic in the first place have been so barely explored that at this point it almost seems like an exercise in "because I can."

That's not to say I don't like it, it does make for an interesting viewpoint, but somehow I get the feeling he's not supposed to be quite so… Tom Ripley. Again, maybe I'm just not picking up on something, but... I feel this could all be addressed by, say, a real, earnest conversation with Ilse that isn't so much for the purpose of gathering information or driving her away from Medic, or some solo time with him doing something not for the sake of impressing upon the reader that he's an intellectual. Or something that somehow indirectly involves the Medic, like he falls asleep working at his desk and Heavy has the opportunity to watch him, maybe delve into the reasons behind his affection/lust/whatever it is, even do something needlessly kind like fetch him a blanket... Anything to see something from him that isn't all cogs, gears and clockwork, if that makes any sense.

That aside, I love this story dearly, from the Medic's bashful, socially awkward intellectual sort of characterization to the inclusion of Ilse and the portrayal of the minor characters like Sniper. Ultimately, whatever you do with the Heavy is up to you, the above is just a huge, messy, rambling suggestion. As long as I get more of your fantastic writing, I’m sure I'll be happy!

>>81
Maybe I'm just not a perceptive reader, but he's starting to feel almost like a psychopath to me--coldly toying with other people just so he can get what he wants.
You're not the only one who noticed. I'm getting that vibe too. Heavy's making sweeping assumptions (that admittedly not out of the question) based on what he sees, and is already taking steps to break up a marriage without knowing the whole story, partly because he thinks it's the right thing to do, but mostly because he wants to get laid. At this point Medic's relationship with his wife could go either way. She could be a Beard, but there's also the chance that he does genuinely love her but is too conservative/a socially awkward, workaholic nerd to portray it. Heavy doesn't know for sure, and he's acting like he's just chasing tail. Generally when people actually try to play matchmaker shit gets VERY messy.

Of course, if this is how you intended it to be, go for it, it's interesting. If not, be careful. If everything winds up going perfectly and everyone is hunky dory, that just seems completely contrived to me. I'm not a fan of perfect, fluffy romances in general, especially since Heavy/Medic tend to get shoved into such situations. I mean, this IS /afanfic/, so there will be sex, which is cool, if I was averse I wouldn't be here. But you've written an interesting story, and you shouldn't sacrifice that story just for porn. It all depends on how you write it at this point.

tl;dr be careful, because I like this and want it to stay good. The characters are all very colorful and refreshing reinterpretations, even the minor ones. It's really got a lot of potential and I want to see more.

Thanks for the feedback - I do like to get thoughts and criticism from readers, even if it's not all sunshine and bunnies.

All I can say is... trust me. I'm a doktor. :P

Permit me to humbly disagree, 81 and 82.

The comparison to Tom Ripley is not entirely accurate, particularly since Tom Ripley was initially young, ambitious, and naive to a point. That's what got him into real trouble, after all. Logically, a story like this would have Heavy getting caught doing what he's doing and facing a different set of consequences aside from being forever alone.

The Heavy is a more mature character and able to keep his focus. I think that's what keeps him appearing so calm. Overly emotional outbursts just don't fit with the character; it'd be like having a Spy suddenly throwing a tantrum. Although his initial intentions appear to be like he's just "chasing tail", it's clear that he's gone beyond that now. He has his focus, his purpose and he's sticking by that like it's his job.

I do agree that he doesn't have the entire story yet, but I have a feeling that we'll at least get one side of it soon and surely both sides before any adult activities start occurring. Let's just sit back and watch the story unfold, shall we?

82 Here.

>>83
You're welcome. It's early yet, so I still have faith.

>>84
I wasn't making a comparison to Tom Ripley. Heavy's characterization has been consistent and well-done so far, and no, he shouldn't get emotional, but he is being cold and manipulative. His intentions are that he wants to have sex with Medic, and that getting his wife to be with someone else is means to that end.
The only thing I was trying to point out to Doktor was that he needs to be careful not to make things too peachy. If/when the whole plot comes to light, I can't imagine anyone reacting kindly to knowing that their significant other was set up with someone else so the person doing the setup could chase after them.

Hey, if this is handled right, it could be a really interesting and unconventional story, which is why I want to see more.

SORRY FOR THE BUMP.

But...but... MOAR, for the love of god, MOAR.

Say it with me, children:

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

Seriously. So many good stories, so many disheartening 'moar' bumps. Anomnomnom? You know that happy bubbly excited feeling people get when they think a good story has been updated? You just stomped on it. All those happy bubbles, plip plip plip. I hope is was worth it, you monster.

oh come off it, not all the happy bubbles are popped, bet there is at least one shy annon who hasn't read this yet. I sure as hell got happy bubbles back from re-reading this awesome story.

I must say I agree with >>88 though I know all about getting one's hopes up for an update and then becoming incredibly disappointed and frustrated. I always love anything by Ze Doktor, so finding this was nice. I hope it is updated soon.

Oh, man. Broke my heart. I had a huge smile on my face but then I saw BUMP and just. All of my dreams were CRUSHED.

But this did deserve a bump, I will give you that, Anomnomnom.

We patiently await an update, Ze Doktor.

Fear not, guys, I haven't forgotten about this story. But it will stay on hold until I finish Butterfly Knife. One thing at a time and all that.

I'm still interested in what people think of the characters and where the story might be going. I did say I wanted community input on what's happening, remember. That hasn't changed. The comments here are really useful stuff.

Here's what I want to see, after reading everyone else's comments. I want Medic to be smart enough to figure out what is going on (eventually) or perhaps Heavy slips up and even though it's only a little, it's enough for Medic to put two and two together. And even though I'm not sure what Medic's situation with Ilse is precisely, so far, I'd love for Medic to get mad at Heavy for it, even if it isn't rage inducing anger.

Of course, so far Heavy hasn't done anything that could be figured out but there is more story to be told. I do want them together in the end but I think it'd be interesting to see Medic telling Heavy to stay out of his personal life, if only because then Heavy is going to need some kind of response that won't make things worse (or maybe he could make things worse before making them better, as that'd be fun.)

Not sure how to work any of that end but I'm throwing the notion out there.

this is coming along nicely, can't wait for more

You're giving something more here than just conventional two paragraphs, rapetiem, then the game's over. I like how you'd brought some of the other team members into the story, if only by mention, in part six. For a while there, it seemed like you'd forgotten about them a bit too much. I'd think it possibly too much of a comic element, but in Heavy's pursuit of Ilse being broken off from Medic, instead of Heavy being able to peak her interest in Demo, she actually becomes fond of Heavy. Your writing style reminds me slightly of Lynn Kurland's early work, which is nice (Romance novelist, inb4 mushy-gushy crap).

SAGE
GOES
IN
THE
EMAIL
FIELD

Drillbot needs to chill out... seriously dude, chill.

I've been compared to Lynn Kurland.

I can now die happy.

Even though Heavy's giving me the creeps with what he's doing, and Medic might not actually be gay (which would be pretty ironic after all that planning...) I love your writing and am intrigued to see what happens!

Ohai, someone else who knows of Kurland. This is surprising. Stardust of Yesterday FTW. And don't die just yet, we need an end to this, as well as Butterfly Knife :P

I love this fic really much so far, keep going! Intellect!Heavy is my new love right now. I'd also like him to do something a bit more daring with Medic that wouldn't necessarily risk anything, but it would test how the Doktor feels for Heavy, does he need more time or is he already holding a bit deeper interest in Heavy than them just being friends with each other.

Or maybe this is just my curiousity, but I'd be nice if this would happen! There is so much potential in this story, and I'm really looking forward to the next part!