Ok, it's the first time I post here, I hope I did the "sage" thing correctly.

I'm glad I've discovered Cat's fanfictions this summer, they are all gorgeous and well-written. But the best is this one, mostly because everything seems so real, the reader can feel every sensation, every emotion on own skin; and despite all the flaws of the mercs, it's impossible not to be on their side.

I'd like to comment every detail of every chapter, but it would be a infinite list, so I'll focus on this chapter.
I like how the realtionship between Dell and Jane is evolving: probably Soldier sees in his friend as the big brother he never had. I'm just too curious to see if Jane will know something about the date.
During the date Dell was so freakin' cute, with all his uneasiness and anxiety; the poor man must have had some bad experience to be so scared.
And Pyro's jack-o'-lantern is the most adorable thing ever.

I know you want to take a break about writing this, but, please, don't leave the project.

PS. Sorry for possible mistakes.

Is anybody still reading this anymore? Is that even going to stop me from continuing to update this? Ah, well. Let's go on to Part 23, shall we? All right.

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Engineer’s eyes cracked open, slowly, as the smell of coffee wafted into the bedroom. He sat up in the bed, blinking away the sleep in his eye, and turned to where Becky had been lying beside him, only to see empty, rumpled-up sheets. He groaned as he stretched his arms and his shoulders, and cracked his back. He gave a cursory glance around the room, as though to confirm the events of the previous night had not been the product of a wishful dream and had in fact taken place. Admittedly, he was still groggy, but he felt better waking up this morning than he had for so many years on so many mornings before this one. He got up from the bed, and bent down to pick up the clothes he’d left strewn on the floor. First he stepped into his briefs, and then he shook out the slacks that lay on the floor so he could pull them on. He noticed his shirt didn’t appear to be among the rest of his clothes, and knelt down to look under the bed, seeing nothing underneath but a tabby cat with wide yellow eyes staring at him.

“Oh,” said Engineer, cracking a smile as the cat tucked its paws underneath its body. “Pardon me, pussy cat.” The cat, of course, said nothing, its eyes fixed on the stranger invading its space. “You haven’t seen my shirt around, have you, kitty?”

The cat hunkered down, its pupils going wide and round. Engineer chuckled, and stood up. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and Engineer nudged it further open, and walked down the hall towards the kitchen. Soon after he stepped in, he found his shirt.

There, in front of the kitchen counter and pouring coffee into a mug, was Becky, and on her back was the white shirt that Engineer had been wearing the night before. The sleeves were too short on her lithe arms, and the bottom of the shirt failed to completely conceal the pink panties on her hips. He felt a tinge of heat go to his ears and his cheeks, and tried to not stare at her, only for her to turn around just as he pulled his eyes away.

“Oh, good, you’re already up,” she said, a wry smile on her lips. “I thought I was going to have to come in and wake you.”

Engineer beamed. “No need for that,” he said. “I appreciate you not kickin’ me out.”

“You never gave me any reason to,” she said. “You want breakfast before you go back home?”

“Yeah, I…” Engineer’s smile slackened as he remembered. “Aw, darn it, what time is it?”

“About a quarter past eight,” said Becky. “Why, you don’t think you’ll be able to stay for a bit?”

“I suppose if we make it quick,” said Engineer. “I’m sorry, I knew I shouldn’t ‘ve stayed th’ night-”

“I’m glad you did, though,” said Becky. She presented Engineer with a mug of coffee, the steam slowing rising upwards and vanishing into the air. “Hope you don’t mind that I wore your shirt.”

“N-no, not at all,” said Engineer, accepting the mug with a dopey smile on his face. “Looks better on you than it does on me, anyway.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she said. “I have to admit, I haven’t really done this before. Wearing a guy’s shirt the morning after, I mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I mean, a lot of my exes didn’t really smell nice enough for me to want to wear their shirts,” she said with a chuckle. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled’s fine,” said Engineer. “Nice t’ know I smell nice, at least. Got that goin’ for me.”

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself,” said Becky, moving towards the fridge. “If you’re hoping to get together with me again, a little self confidence wouldn’t hurt, Dell.”

“Right, right,” Engineer said, bowing his head and looking into his reflection in his cup of coffee. “You’re right, I jus’… I dunno, I’m still reeling from last night, I guess. I almost can’t believe that happened.”

“Are you questioning my judgment?” Becky asked with a smirk, folding a handful of eggs in one hand.

“No! Of course not!” He was blushing again. “No, I just… I’m sorry, you must think I’m a ninny.”

“A little,” said Becky, smiling. “Lucky for you you’re an intelligent, charming and very sweet ninny.” She glided from the fridge to the stove, igniting the stove with her free hand to heat the skillet on top. “Nice change of pace for me, really.”

“I reckon you haven’t had much of a good track record as far as old flames are concerned, huh?” Engineer asked, and he took a seat at the kitchen table.

“Not really, no,” said Becky. “If Jane and Pyro hadn’t vouched for you like they did, I probably would have turned you down just based on my track record.”

“Is that so?” Engineer’s smile faltered a bit, and he hunched over to blow some of the steam off his coffee before taking a tentative sip.

“Let’s just say I have a history of picking out some real winners,” she said with a sardonic smirk, and she cracked an egg on the edge of the skillet. “Apparently my ability to read people ends as soon as I become romantically involved with somebody.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Engineer, now feeling a bit uneasy. Surely, she wasn’t having second thoughts already?

“Not your fault,” she said, looking up from the sizzling yolk. “It’s in the past anyway. Long time ago.”

Engineer gave out a soft, thoughtful hum, and leaned over the kitchen table. Not sure of how to continue the conversation, he decided to just watch her. Even in the early morning with her hair mussed up, the light came through the window over the sink and made her skin glow, and she was beautiful. He felt his heart flutter in a way that it hadn’t since he’d started dating Irene, and that realization grounded him slightly. Just a few weeks back he’d been telling Soldier he wasn’t even interested in seeing anyone for a while, and now he found himself in the kitchen the morning after giving into desire with a woman he admittedly hardly knew. In the back of his mind, he almost felt as though this were some kind of affair; a ridiculous thought, really. Irene had been dead for over seven years now, and a man has needs. Perhaps it was the childish romantic notion that had lingered since adolescence, the idea of One True Love above all other love, that wheedled away at him. He was a grown man, however, and a man of science and reason to boot. There was no need for such silliness.

When she came to the table with two plates of eggs, bacon and toast, he thanked her, and eagerly dug in.

“S’good,” he said between mouthfuls.

“I should hope so,” she said, and she took a sip of her coffee. “Hard to screw up eggs and bacon.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Engineer, and took a bite from his toast.

“Sounds like you have more stories about that,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I got a few.”

“You don’t have to tell me now.” She blew the steam off of her coffee, and sipped. There was a feeling that she wanted to say something else, but she didn’t, and continued to eat in silence. Engineer did as well, trying not to think too much of the lull in conversation. Instead, his mind wandered as did his eyes, becoming fixated on a wren perched on the windowsill.

“So, now what?” Engineer said aloud. His eyes drifted back to Becky, who looked up from her breakfast.

“Now what… what?” Becky asked.

“Well, you… you wanted t’ meet up again, right?” said Engineer. “So, should we… plan on another date, or should I call you, or you could call me, or…?”

She smiled. “We’ll discuss it next time you bring Jane and Pyro in. With them not in the room, obviously.”

“Right… of course,” he said. “That’d be smarter. I go out too often, they might… get suspicious.”

Becky raised her eyebrows.

“Last thing I need is for them t’ figure out I’m seein’ a lady an’ start askin’ me who it is,” said Engineer, finishing off his breakfast.

“Of course,” she said. They both knew that, but Engineer felt as though he were more saying it to remind himself than anything else. He finished his coffee, letting out a satisfied sigh, and stood up from his chair. “Gonna need my shirt back, darlin’, sad as it is t’ say.”

She smirked, and started unbuttoning the shirt right there, opening it up to reveal her bare breasts. Engineer felt his face flush as she handed it to him across the table, and he took it, clearing his throat.

“Something wrong?” she asked wryly.

“S’nothin’,” he said, trying his hardest not to sound too bashful. “You sure aren’t a shy one, are ya?”

“You’ve already seen it before,” she said, in a very matter-of-fact tone. She then stood up to lean in closer to him, with a vulpine smile.“And I plan on you seeing more of it in the future.”

Engineer’s ears were now burning, and he let out an idiotic chortle despite himself, before clearing his throat and wiping the stupid grin off his face. “Right… of course. Thank you, Becky.”

For a moment, their eyes were locked onto each other, and Engineer was filled with a feeling of syrupy, warm sweetness inside of his chest, as though his insides had just turned to caramel or honey. She was the first to move, hovering in closer to him, and then he towards her, until their lips met, and he swore he could feel a blissful tingle shoot up his spine and to the back of his head. Oh, it’d been far too long since he’d had a kiss like that, one that made him wish he could pull her into himself so hard that they’d fuse into the same being. He settled for bringing a hand to her head and petting her long, black hair, which he still had his hand on as she broke the kiss.

“My dear, you are downright intoxicating,” Engineer said with a wistful exhale.

“First time I’ve ever heard that one,” she said.

“An’ there’ll be a lot more a’ those where that came from, darlin’,” he said.

It took a great amount of effort for Engineer to actually get up from his chair, finish getting dressed, and leave that cozy little house, not wanting to tear his eyeballs away from Becky for too long. He felt as though he were walking on a fluffy pink cloud every time he met those dark almond eyes, and as he settled into his seat, he adjusted his rearview mirror so he could catch one last glimpse of her. She stood in the doorway, now clothed, and leaned against the doorframe with her head tilted coyly as though she were daring him to come back. He sighed, and readjusted his mirror as he made his way back home.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Quietly as he could, Engineer opened the front door and stepped inside the kitchen. Guard Dog was sprawled out on the kitchen floor, and he lifted his head as he saw Engineer, his tail thumping against the linoleum.

“Hey, boy,” said Engineer, in a hushed voice. He put a finger to his lips, and Guard Dog closed his smiling mouth and tilted his head. Engineer crept past his dog, and began to walk past the living room, which was still dark. He stepped gingerly towards his bedroom, trying to make as little noise as possible.

“You’re late.”

Engineer let out a cry as he jumped back in surprise, pressing himself against the wall and clutching his chest. He peered into the living room and saw Soldier sitting on the couch, arms crossed and back straight, looking at Engineer with a disappointed glare. He was gripping Shovel Jr. tight in one hand, tapping it against his bicep impatiently.

“Oh, good Lord,” sighed Engineer, “you nearly scared th’ bejeezus outta me.”

Soldier grimaced. “Sorry,” he said gritting his teeth as he did. “Where were you? I’ve been waiting all night.”

“O-oh…” said Engineer, sweeping a hand over his scalp. “I’m awful sorry, Jane, I ended up not bein’ able t’ drive back last night.” He tried to sound as casual as he possibly could, but could feel his insides squirm under Soldier’s scrutinizing gaze. “I ended up passin’ out at one a’ th’ fella’s places. I would’a called, but I wasn’t quite in th’ right frame a’ mind. Sorry about that.”

“They couldn’t call you a cab?” Soldier looked Engineer up and down, like a machine scanning for inconsistencies.

“Couldn’t tell ‘em where t’ go,” said Engineer with a shrug. “I didn’t mean t’ make ya worry, Jane. I apologize. I should’a been more responsible.”

Soldier appeared to mull this over a moment, before he finally nodded. “That’s all right, Engie,” he said. “I was concerned, that’s all. You said you’d be back last night and I’ve been here waiting.”

“You didn’t hafta do all that,” said Engineer. “Were you… awake th’ whole time?”

“Affirmative,” said Soldier. “Everybody else went to bed. Your daughter is sleeping in, as per usual, and Pyro… I have no idea what Pyro’s doing up there. Probably sleeping. He doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

“Aren’t you tired?” Engineer asked.

“I’m fine,” Soldier insisted. “I’ve gone more than 48 hours without sleep before, when I was in Poland! A man learns to function without sleep, Engie, and I assure you that I can do it again, too. Why, this is hardly anythi-” Soldier’s head fell forward, and his body slumped forward. Engineer rushed to him in alarm, just about to shake him to when Soldier let out a soft snore.

“Well, don’t that beat all,” Engineer said to himself softly. As gently as he could, he laid Soldier down on the couch, and took one the blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch (the one his mother had knitted for him shortly before Rosie had been born, he remembered), and draped it over Soldier. He stood over the other man, watching as Soldier started to drool on the arm of the couch. Engineer shook his head and sighed. “G’night, Jane,” he said, and walked to his bedroom to get showered.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Demoman cracked open his eye, and squeezed it shut again when the sunlight stung his optic nerves. He lifted his head, which felt as heavy as a wrecking ball on his neck, and sat up. He covered his eye with the heel of his palm, rubbing the sleep glue out of it and groaning. Hungover again, just as he had been the past few weeks. He blinked his eye open again and turned his head to see Sniper lying on the couch perpendicular to his, splayed out with a hat covering his face and a west highland terrier lying atop his chest, his arm and legs hanging off the edges as he snored.

Honestly, Demoman was surprised that Sniper had stuck around this long. Why Sniper had stuck around, Demoman couldn’t rightly say, but he appreciated the company. If he was going on a bender for this long, then at the very least he wouldn’t be doing it alone. He stood up, and lurched towards the kitchen, groaning as his temples throbbed with each pump of blood to his brain.

When he arrived at his destination, he saw Ilse sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea and reading a book, stroking the Scottie lying across her lap. She gave Demoman a quick glance as he staggered in. “Good afternoon, Tavish.”

“Afternoon? S’that late already?” Demoman gave her an innocent smile as he made his way to the cabinet.

“It’s half past two,” said Ilse.

“Well, at least it’s still daylight then, right luv?” Demoman grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass, and made his way to the table, planting a kiss on Ilse’s cheek.

“Yes, it is,” she said, and patted the side of Demoman’s face. “Hair of the dog zat bit you, again?”

“Stick with th’ cure that works,” said Demoman, sitting down and twisting the bottle open. He poured the whiskey into his shot glass and knocked it back. He slumped back in his chair and tilted his head back. “How’re you doin’, luv?”

“I’m well,” she said. “Feeling better?”

“Give it a bit,” Demoman groaned, his eye closed.

“You want ze ice pack, Schatz?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, waving towards the fridge.

Isle scooted her chair back and lifted the dog off her lap, placing it on the floor. She walked to the fridge and pulled out an ice pack, and handed it to Demoman, who placed it over his brow. Ilse sat back down and picked up her book, saying nothing more as her eyes roved over the page.

“Whatcha readin’, luv?” Demoman asked.

Isle gave out a little “hmph”, not even looking up from her book. “Some pop psychology garbage vone of my patients had told me about,” she said. “It’s about some young girl who claims to have multiple personalities in her head. Zhey made a movie about it.”

“Tha’s fascinatin’,” groaned Demoman. “You seen tha’ movie?”

“I have no interest,” Ilse said flatly. “I’ve no time for human spectacles.”

“I dunno abou’ that,” said Demoman, cracking a smile. “Ye put up with me well enough.”

“Oh, hush,” Ilse said, and Demoman gave out a weak chuckle.

There was a moment’s silence between them, Demoman still nursing his hangover and Ilse glued to her book. Without warning, she clapped it closed, which caused Demoman to flinch in pain. She looked to him, her expression cool, until Demoman tilted his head forward and opened his eye to meet her gaze.

“Can I ask you something, dearest?”

“Aye?” Demoman leaned forward, still keeping his ice pack in place.

Ilse was quiet for a moment, studying Demoman a while before she spoke. “Do you ever fantasize about ozher women when ve are making love?”

Demoman blinked. “Why are ye askin’ me that, now?”

“Answer ze question.” Ilse’s expression was unchanged, still poker faced as usual.

“No, a’ course not!” Demoman sat up straighter in his chair, and squared his shoulders. “Wot’d give ye that idea?”

“Nozzing gave me ze idea, love, I was simply asking you a question.”

“Ye don’ jes’ ask a question like tha’ outta th’ blue,” said Demoman. “Wot’s got inta ye?”

“Curiosity,” said Ilse. “I was just wondering, if perhaps you have had erotic fantasies about women other zhen myself.”

“A’ course I don’t!” declared Demoman. “An’ quite frankly I’m a bit insulted that’d ye think that.”

“It is not meant as an insult, Tavish,” said Ilse, putting a gentle hand over Demoman’s.

“Why should I?” asked Demoman. “I’ve got you, haven’t I? You think any a’ them could compare tae you? Sure, other women might be as pretty, or they might be as smart, or as lovely, but not a’ one a’ them could ever mean as much tae me as you.” He moved his other hand to put it over top of Ilse’s, but nearly dropped the ice pack in the process, catching it awkwardly and slapping it over his head again. “Ye know that, don’chye?”

“Zis is not about love, Tavish, just lust,” she said. “Ze two are not mutually inclusive.”

“They are tae me,” said Demoman. “Erry girl I’d ever been with, I wos madly in love with her beforehand. I dinnae much see th’ point a’ sex without love. I know other men are fine an’ content with it, but that’s jes’ not how I’ve been. It wouldn’t feel right unless yer head o’er heel for ‘em… it’d jes’ be empty.”

Ilse’s eyebrows arched in surprise, and she stroked Demoman’s hand before withdrawing her own. “I see,” she said, her eyes drifting to the floor.

“Is this ‘cos I been away or with Mundy so much?” asked Demoman. “I mean, I know ye probably don’t like him hangin’ around so much, an’ I know ye don’t like it when I leave ye for jobs… listen, if ye want me tae kick Sniper out fer a bit an’ jes’ stick around, me an’ you, some quality time together… I’ll do it. Jes’ say th’ word, an’ I’ll do it for ye, luv.” He reached out his hand over the table, towards hers, and took hold of it, giving it a tender squeeze as he offered her a smile.

“Zat is not necessary,” she said. “Besides, we bozh know he has been coming here more for you zen for himself.” She scooted her chair back and stood up, collecting her book and looking down at a somewhat bewildered Demoman. “I should get going to zhe office.”

Demoman looked up at the clock above the door. According to the odd little clock shaped like a begging Scottish terrier that Ilse had picked up some years ago, it was almost three o’clock. Later than she would go but... what day was it again? “Isn’t it Saturday, love?”

“I have some zhings to take care of,” she said. “I trust you’ll be fine on your own, yes?”

“I’ll live,” he said. “Ye sure ye don’ wanna stick around an’… talk?”

“Perhaps later,” she said, tucking her book under her arm. She leaned over to give Demoman a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you zhis evening, dearest.”

“Alright,” said Demoman, trying to mask his insecurity. Either Ilse failed to notice it or flat out ignored it as she left the kitchen looking satisfied, and could be heard picking up her keys and opening and closing the door.

Demoman slumped over the table, removing the ice pack from his head. The worst of it was gone, but the ache was still there, felt like a pulse muffled through cotton. He got up from his chair, and lumbered to the cabinets, pulling out a bag of flour and a canister of salt. He noticed there were no dishes in the sink, meaning either Ilse had already eaten and did her own dishes, which Demoman found unlikely, or she had skipped breakfast all together, which was out of character for her.

Something was going on, he knew it. It wasn’t unlike her to be a bit standoffish and distant at times, he was used to that from a woman who had been through as much as she had in her life. It wasn’t even that odd of her to bring up strange questions out of nowhere… but this was different. Something was off.

Was she suspecting him of cheating on her? He hadn’t of course, but those questions, and that reaction… why on earth would she act such a way, if she hadn’t suspected him of being unfaithful? Unless…

No, she was looking to fuck somebody, and you can’t do that when you’re away for so long on all those film shoots, now can you?

Soldier’s words from the reunion not three months ago rang in his head. “Bah,” he said aloud, slamming the cabinet door shut. He turned to move to the fridge only to see his little black dog looking up at him, cautiously wagging his tail in expectation of a treat.

Demoman smiled. “Least one of us is in a good mood then, eh, Siegfried?”

Siegfried let out a low woof, licking his snout and playfully backing away a few paces.

“That’s a good boy,” said Demoman. “How about a bit a’ breakfast then?”

I'm reading it! (And absolutely loving it)

I'm reading it, too!

Soldier really cares for Engie, he waited up for him all night! Poor guy must have been really worried, not that he'd ever admit it.

This is my absolute favourite fic so of course I'm reading it =]

....Soldier going to get his heart broken isn't he?

(but in seriousness, good job! Always a pleasure to read)

I'm gonna read every update of this masterpiece until the end of the world.
This chapter was awfully sweet, especially Jane who stayed awaken all the night because it was worried for Dell. Demo too, with his great and strong sense of respect and love for Ilse.
The Dell's shirt thing, which was too little for Becky, made me giggle a lot.

Oh no, Tavish... I'm making the saddest of sad faces.

yess an update! always worth the wait!
and of course you still have readers, silly ;) I'll be reading for as long as you keep writing.

Still reading, and liking it. I feel sorry for Soldier, he stopped up all night for Engineer. I wonder what will happen. Heartbreak!? I await more. Keep up the good work.

Is it dead?

It's been exactly 100 days since the last update.

Got all excited, thinking there was an update... then I find out SOMEONE didn't sage.

Tsk.

Damn I thought it updated. Always sage before posting. 100 isn't that long, I mean... she'll update when she can, so just be patient. Go read something else in the meantime.

Sage goes in the email thread to prevent bumping stories that aren't updated.

>>155

Sorry, I've been struggling to get into a good writing groove lately and I've been going back and forth between this and something original.

I do plan on updating, though.

Whew. Well, at least it's not abandoned.

This is amazing. I can't wait for an update!

I feel bad that I haven't updated in forever and when I finally do it's such a short little chapter. Hopefully the next one should have more things happening.

Enjoy part 24 you guys!

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“Well, how did it go?”

Pyro tilted his head. “Whurrt gurrh?”

“Your exercise,” Dr. Marshall clarified. “With the mirror. Were you able to try it?”

Pyro bowed his head, and averted his gaze from the doctor’s.

“It’s all right,” she said. “You don’t have to push yourself.”

“Urh trrrid,” Pyro mumbled.

“You did?” Dr. Marshall perked up; she was getting better at deciphering Pyro’s muffled speech now. “How did it go?”

“Nurrt gurrd,” said Pyro sheepishly.

“What happened?” Dr. Marshall asked. “Do you need your crayons? Could you show me?”

He turned over his hand on his lap, and with great hesitation, removed his glove and revealed bloodstained bandages hastily and sloppily wrapped around his fingers. Dr. Marshall stifled a gasp, tearing her eyes away to open up a drawer in her desk, pulling out a red tin first aid kit. Pyro squirmed uncomfortably as Dr. Marshall kneeled before him, taking his hand into hers. Without a word, she opened the kit and unwrapped his sticky dressings, revealing several deep cuts slashed across Pyro’s knuckles and palms. She picked out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a few cotton balls, soaked the tufts of cotton, and dabbed at Pyro’s wounds, her movements delicate and gentle. Pyro hissed and winced, but otherwise allowed her to treat him, fixated on her as she wrapped his hand with clean bandages. Once she had finished, Pyro examined his hands, flexing his fingers as much as the bandages would allow him, and looked back to Dr. Marshall.

“Thurnk yuur,” said Pyro, tucking his hand inside his jacket.

“No need to thank me,” said Dr. Marshall. “I feel partially responsible for this. I may have pushed you a bit too far too early.”

“Issh nurt yurr furrlt.”

“Thank you, Pyro. That’s sweet of you to say.” She gave him a soft smile. “Did you tell Dell about this?”

Pyro shook his head.

“And he didn’t notice?”

“Nuur,” said Pyro. “Uh hurrd urt.”

“Is there a reason you didn’t tell him?” she asked. She spoke slowly, as though she was trying to compensate somehow for her own difficulty understanding Pyro’s speech.

“I thrrrt huuh murrt gurt muuuhd,” Pyro admitted sheepishly, tugging at his sleeve with his good hand. “Huuh murrt yurrl ut muuh.”

“Oh, Pyro,” she sighed. “I don’t think he would be mad at you. He might be scared, but he wouldn’t punish you or hurt you for it.”

He said nothing, and just hung his head in shame.

“Do you want to tell him?”

Pyro shook his head violently, in a manner that recalled a horse performing a trick on command.

“If you want, I could tell him for you,” she suggested, leaning forward and craning her neck to look Pyro in the eye. “I’m only asking because I’m afraid you might need to see a doctor. There’s a good chance you might need to get stitch-”

“UH KNUUR UH DURRKTUR!” Pyro shouted, causing Dr. Marshall to jolt upright. Immediately, Pyro turned sheepish and shrunk back again. “Uh’ll shee Murrdick.”

“Medic?” Her eyes looked up, recalling the man Soldier had mentioned in previous sessions. “Are you able to just see him whenever?”

“Shurr,” said Pyro. “Uh currn duh thurrt.”

“Can you at least promise to see him for me then?” Dr. Marshall caught Pyro’s eye, her eyes and tone imploring. “Please?”

Pyro didn’t respond right away, shifting on the couch and looking down at his feet. He then lifted his head and gave a weak nod. “Uh prumish,” he said, and made a cross over his chest. “Shwurr.”

Dr. Marshall breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Pyro squared his shoulders and sat up straighter, giving a tight, affirmative nod. His gaze was, presumably, locked onto her with expectation. Initiating the discussion in these sessions was something Pyro was never actually inclined to do, and he depended entirely on the doctor to give him an activity in their sessions. But she wasn’t moving for the crayons and paper now. She sat on the edge of her desk, and sighed.

“Well,” she said, “with your hand the way it is now, I don’t think it would be a good idea to have you drawing any pictures.”

Pyro slumped in disappointment.

“However,” she said, “I did want to ask if you might be willing to undergo some testing so that I might be able to help you better.”

“Tsshting?” There was a clear panic in Pyro’s tone, his posture now rigid.

“Now, now, it’s all right, it’s nothing scary,” she assured him, lifting her hands in a calming gesture. “There won’t be any kind of wires or needles or anything like that. It’s more along the lines of a test you might do in school.”

This seemed to assuage Pyro’s initial anxiety, and now he just tilted his head in curiosity.

“It would mostly just be a series of simple aptitude tests,” explained Dr. Marshall. “Reading, mathematics, problem solving, reaction time, coordination… things like that. Nothing invasive. No pressure. The results from the tests will help me better help you. Would that be all right with you?”

Pyro put his chin in his good hand, and hummed in thought.

“You need some time to mull it over?” Dr. Marshall asked.

“Mmmph!” Pyro gave a vigorous nod.

“All right,” she said. “Is there anything you wanted to discuss today then?”

Pyro tilted his head back, and looked to the ceiling as he kicked his legs back and forth. After a few seconds of this, he shook his head. “Nurrr rrrulluh,” he said with a shrug.

“Well, all right,” said Dr. Marshall. She stood up and leaned over her desk, and flipped through the rolodex on her desk. Her fingers criss-crossed like scissors between index cards until she found the precise one, and slid her legal pad across her desk in front of her, jotting the name and number down.”Pyro, would you mind calling Dell in for a moment?”

Eagerly, Pyro went to the door, poking his head out and giving a muffled call to Engineer. Within moments, Engineer was inside the office, removing his hat from his head and bringing in with him a heady musk that smelled like a combination of old leather and rubbing alcohol. He gave Dr. Marshall a polite nod. “You wanted to speak with me, ma’am?”

Dr. Marshall handed Engineer the sheet of paper. “I would like you to arrange an appointment with Dr. Montoya,” she said, her tone dry and clinical. “Pyro has agreed to do some diagnostic tests. Nothing invasive, just a series of basic aptitude tests, mostly. They might take a few hours to complete, so make sure Pyro is well-rested and has breakfast beforehand.”

Engineer looked over the sheet of paper. “Alrighty then, I’ll guess I’ll give th’ doc a call soon as we get home.” He looked to Pyro, who was looking over his shoulder curiously. “So, uh, should I step back outside an’ wait for you two t’ finish up, or…?”

“Not necessary,” said Dr. Marshall. “Pyro and I are wrapping up early today. You won’t be billed for his session today.”

“Well, that’s awfully considerate of you, ma’am,” said Engineer. “Is there anythin’ else you needed to discuss?” There was the slightest lilt of eagerness in his voice.

“If I could have a few minutes to discuss some things in private, I would appreciate it,” said Dr. Marshall. Her tone was professional and polite, her face and posture betraying no ulterior motives.

“Very well,” said Engineer, and he cleared his throat. “Pyro, would you mind takin’ you an’ Jane t’ wait out in th’ car? I’ll only be a minute.”

“Keesh,” Pyro demanded, and presented an open palm to Engineer, making a grabby gesture with his fingers.

“Here,” said Engineer, fishing his keys out of his pocket and handing them off to Pyro. “I won’t be long, so don’t you an’ Jane be gettin’ any bright ideas.” No sooner had he placed the keys in Pyro’s palm than Pyro dashed out the office, hollering for Soldier to join him.

Engineer let out a relieved chuckle, and lowered his arms to his sides. He tapped his hat against his thigh, and gave Dr. Marshall a polite nod. “Hello, Becky.”

“Dell,” said Becky, stepping in closer to him and giving him a comely smile. She closed the space in between them, and came to a halt as she put her hands on his chest. “What on earth are you wearing?”

“Do I look that bad?” he asked.

“No, not your clothes, that cologne,” she said. She took a few whiffs and shook her head. “Maybe next time you shouldn’t wear something so… overpowering.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he said apologetically, hunching over under her gaze. “I just, I had this stuff forever, an’ this is my first time seein’ you since our date an’ all, I thought, I dunno, I guess I thought ladies liked that sort of thing-” He was stopped when he looked back up at her and she put a finger to his lips, and shushed him.

“Please,” she said, “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t want you raising any suspicion from Pyro or Jane.”

Engineer’s face fell, and he groaned. “Oh, hell,” he muttered. “You’re right. I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinkin’ straight. Here I am all butterflies in my stomach an’ twitterpated like a schoolboy with a crush an’ I… I just ain’t ever done this before… doin’ a… a secret relationship, I mean.”

“I can tell,” said Dr. Marshall, a wry smile forming on her lips.

She rested her forehead against his, looking down at his face and watching his thought process as his eyes drifted and brow kneaded. He looked back up at her, his eyes meeting hers. “Where do we go from here?” he asked in earnest.

She sighed. “I think it would be best if we not overthink this too much,” she said. “Just keep meeting up once a week or so, talk, have some coffee… keep things casual.”

“Casual,” Engineer repeated. “Does… does that mean we’re not going to… y’know…?”

“Not going to what?” Dr. Marshall asked. She was still close to him, her hips just scant inches away from his, her arms now draped over his shoulders. In his mind he felt as though he were in a car and he’d made a wrong turn, and was now backing up to try and right himself.

“… Exactly what is the nature of our relationship, Dr. Marshall?” he asked, his tone much more restrained.

“What did you think it was?” she asked.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted. “I’d come to you with romantic intentions but it seems these feelings aren’t entirely reciprocal.”

“Dell,” she said, straightening up and holding Engineer at arm’s length, “I’m really not looking for a long-term romantic relationship with a client’s caretaker. You realize that’s extremely risky.”

“Oh…” Engineer’s shoulders slumped a little. “I… I see…”

“But,” she said, “I do like you, Dell. I like you a lot. You’re charming, you’re extremely intelligent, you’re funny and you’re cute on top of that. I want to keep seeing you. If circumstances were different I’d be more than happy to officially date you. I really shouldn’t have accepted that date invitation, and I certainly should not have had sex with you.”

Engineer’s head was lowered by now. Thin fingers lifted his chin until his eyes met hers again, and she tilted her head and closed in on him until their lips met. His heart started hammering again as her hands framed his face, and the kiss went deeper, and his head swam and went tingly as he put his hands on her hips and drew her closer. Nearly a full minute passed before they parted, exhaling hot breath as they gazed into each other’s eyes and she smiled at him.

“I don’t regret it, though,” she said, and stroked his cheek.

“Good,” he said. “Neither do I.”

“Come by my place Friday night, sometime after eight,” she said. “I want to see you again.”

He smiled. “Yes, ma’am. Will do.”

“And next time,” she said, her lips going to his ear, “forget the cologne. You don’t need it.”

“O-okay.” His ears went pink right away, and they pulled apart from each other. Dr. Marshall resumed her professional demeanor, acting as though none of what had just transpired even happened at all, while Engineer still felt Eros’ arrow sticking into his chest.

“Another appointment same time next week as well?” she asked.

“Of course,” said Engineer dreamily. “Definitely.”

“Great,” she said. “I’ll put you down then.”

“Thank you,” he said, trying to will away the smile on his cheeks and the blush in his face and ears. “I’ll be seein’ you Friday, then.”

“I look forward to it,” said Becky.

He could hide the smile no more, and under her gaze he felt a swell of confidence surge from his chest. With a deft flick of his wrist his hat was back on his head, and he tilted the brim down slightly as he hooked his thumb into one of his belt loops. “Take care, little lady,” he said, tipping his hat, and he spun around and swaggered out the door like a gunslinger in a western leaving a saloon.

It was everything Becky could do to hold in her giggling fit until he was long gone.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


“DADDY.”

“KINDA BUSY RIGHT NOW, SWEETHEART!” Engineer shouted from underneath his truck.

“DADDY, IT’S THE PHONE,” Rosie shouted back. “IT’S FOR YOU.”

Engineer rolled out from underneath his truck, covered in sweat and grease and oil. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and propped twisted his head towards the open garage door. “WHO IS IT?”

“IT’S SCOUT,” she said. “YOU WANT ME T’ TELL ‘IM T’ CALL BACK?”

“I’M COMIN’!” Engineer hollered back, and stood to his feet. As he walked out of the garage he reached for the rag in his back jean pocket, and wiped his hands. He climbed the stairs to the porch with a grunt, and strode into the kitchen, where Rosie was waiting, holding the phone receiver out to him. He took the receiver from her hand, and set it on his shoulder, leaning his head against it as he wiped off one last spot of grease. “Hello?”

“Engie!” said Scout. “How you doin’ man? Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“I’m doin’ just fine, buddy, just fine,” said Engineer, now holding the phone in his hand as he leaned on the kitchen counter. “I’m workin’ again, things have settled down since you last called… how’s the new baby?”

“Just fantastic, just swell!” Scout said. “Actually, funny that you bring her up, y’know, ‘cause I was callin’ ‘cause me an’ Bunny wanted to show off the new family addition in person. She’s gotten a little bigger an’, you know, I thought maybe you an’ Soldier an’ Pyro might wanna come over.”

“Well, sure,” said Engineer. “I’d love to, Scout, that sounds wonderful!”

“Good, good!” said Scout. “I mean, I was thinkin’, I ain’t seen Pyro since he came back anyways, an’ I wanted t’ see him again, so I figured, ‘why not,’ right?”

“Sounds like a good enough excuse to me,” said Engineer. “You want me t’ bring anything? Y’know, food or baby clothes or anythin’?”

“‘Naw, Ma’s gonna be cookin’ an’ we already had a baby shower, y’know, so ya don’t have ta bring anythin’, unless you really want to I guess… or you can make some kinda diaper-changin’ machine...”

“Funny you should bring that up,” said Engineer, “I think I might have some parts for a prototype I made back when Rosie was just a baby…”

“Hey, hey, whoa, Hardhat, I was just jokin’,” Scout chuckled.

“Ah,” said Engineer. “Just as well. Never could get th’ darn thing fine-tuned enough to work on a live infant. Darn shame.” His eyes tilted upwards, and his brow kneaded in thought. “… But maybe if I had adjusted the equilibrium on th’ rotary apparatus-”

“Hey, Engie, I mean it, don’t break my friggin’ kid,” Scout said flatly. “She’s still brand new an’ I ain’t exactly got a warranty on her-OW!”

“You all right, Scout?”

“I’m fine just… Bunny friggin’ hit me! Jeez, I told him not to, what the hell’s yer problem?” There was some muffled yelling in the background of the call, followed by arguing. Then a dull smack, and another cry of pain from Scout. “Ow, Jesus! You hearin’ this? You hear this abuse I gotta put up with?”

Engineer chuckled. “She sounds downright vicious.”

“Yeah, yeah…” said Scout.

“I suppose she should be,” said Engineer. “If she’s gotta keep you and two kids in line she’s gotta be made of some tough stuff.”

“You know it,” said Scout. “Hey, uh, the other thing I was thinkin’, I was gonna invite Doc an’ Heavy an’ Sniper an’ Demo, too. Maybe Demo could bring his girl, you know, I mean, if you think she an’ Doc can be in the same room without killin’ each other…”

“I think you might wanna clear that with Doc an’ Demo first,” Engineer suggested. “I’ve seen th’ Doc an’ his ex-wife in a room together, an’ they’re not exactly on th’ best of terms.”

“What, they have a screamin’ match in front a’ you or somethin’?”

“Hardly,” said Engineer. “It was a tad more, uh, passive-aggressive than that.”

“Oh, wow,” Scout laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So, when exactly is this house party a’ yours?” Engineer asked.

“Well, y’know, I was thinkin’ now that everybody’s got those teleporters, we could probably do this thing on Saturday?”

“This Saturday?” Engineer thought back to Dr. Marshall’s office. “Sure, I can manage this Saturday. About what time would you want us over, keepin’ in mind th’ time difference here an’ all?”

“Whenever you can make it is fine,” said Scout. “I mean, it’s be nice if you could be here around, I dunno, two or three? I just don’t want you showin’ up too late.”

“Fine by me,” said Engineer. “I can work with that. Fine.”

“Great!” said Scout. “I’ll get ta callin’ everybody else then. I’ll talk to ya later, pally.”

“Take care, Scout,” Engineer said. “Good bye.” And with that, he hung up.

“What was that all about?”

Engineer turned to Rosie, who was sitting at the kitchen table, her hand in a bag of potato chips. He walked over towards the table and picked up the bag.

“Hey!” Rosie exclaimed, her freckled face scrunching up in frustration. “I was eatin’ those!”

“You’re gonna spoil your dinner,” said Engineer, rolling the bag closed, the foil crinkling loud enough to draw Guard Dog out from under the kitchen table. “And that was about a get-together Scout’s plannin’. He wants us t’ meet th’ new baby.”

Instantly, Rosie’s scowl faded. “Oh, did Bunny finally have it?”

“Yeah, she did, ‘bout two months back,” said Engineer. “I could’a sworn I’d told you that.”

“I don’t remember hearin’ anythin’.” Rosie crossed her arms and leaned onto the table. “Was it a boy or a girl?”

“A little girl,” said Engineer. “Jean Louise.”

“Aww,” Rosie cooed, and pulled up her hands to support her chin. “Is she cute?”

“I would assume so,” said Engineer. He opened the cupboard and shoved the chip bag back inside. “Haven’t gotten to see her yet.”

“I wanna see her!” Rosie perked up in her chair. “I mean, I’m invited, right?”

“Of course,” said Engineer. He pulled out the chair opposite of Rosie. “I mean, you’ll be fine with all th’ fellas bein’ there, won’t you?”

“All of them?” Rosie asked.

“I imagine so,” said Engineer. “Why, none a’ them are botherin’ you too much, are they?”

“You mean asides from th’ ones livin’ with us?” Rosie asked, lowering her voice.

“Rosalie, please,” Engineer said, lowering his voice to a stage whisper to match his daughter’s. “Now is not the time t’ bring this up.”

“I was jus’ making a joke, jeez.” Rosie crossed her arms.

“I know it’s takin’ time for you to adjust t’ Jane an’ Pyro, but they’re tryin’ their best,” said Engineer. “Just be patient with them, all right?

Rosie sighed. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, I’m just… I hear Pyro pacin’ around up there an’ I hear Jane runnin’ around hollerin’ like he does, I just-”

Engineer took his daughter’s hand in his, and patted it gently. “Hey. It’s all right,” he said. He gave her a soft smile. “All you gotta do is speak up an’ tell me if they’re causin’ you any trouble, an’ yer ole’ dad’ll take care of it. All right?”

Before Rosie could respond, the door to the back porch swung open, and Soldier walked in. His arms and face were covered in thin, red slashes across his skin. His shirt was ripped, his knuckles were bloody, and he lumbered through the living room and into the kitchen without paying any heed to the stares of Engineer, Rosie and Guard Dog. Soldier sniffed back a trickle of blood from his nose, and opened the refrigerator, pulling out a can of Blue Streak, popping the tab, and knocking it back.

“Jane?”

Soldier stopped drinking, and looked to Engineer.

“Are you all right, buddy?” Engineer asked.

“Fine!” said Soldier, flashing Engineer a toothy grin. “Fine, absolutely fine. Took care of your coyote problem.”

“That so?” Engineer looked Soldier up and down, and glanced at Rosie, whose eyes turned down to her own hands. “Wasn’t aware we had a coyote problem.”

“Not anymore you don’t.” Soldier puffed out his chest with no small amount of pride.

Rosie looked to her father, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes in disapproval. Engineer gave her a pleading shrug, and sighed. Guard Dog sniffed and licked Soldier’s wounds with curiosity and concern.

“Do you, uh, need any kind of medical attention or anything?” Engineer started to get up from his chair.

“No need, Tex,” said Soldier, “I’ve done my own field dressing. And I’ve had my rabies shots.”

Engineer opened his mouth to respond, but closed it and sat back down. He sighed and shook his head. “Would it be too much to ask you not to assault any wild animals, at least for the time being? Scout has taken th’ liberty of inviting us to his home on Saturday, and I would appreciate it if you don’t show up looking like you got in a fight with a sticker bush.”

“You didn’t kill that coyote, did you?” Rosie asked.

Soldier ignored Engineer’s statement entirely, and turned to Rosie with a furrowed brow. “Negatory,” he said. “Bastard retreated. For now, anyway. Pyro and I will be regrouping to strategize.” He tilted his head back and shouted up at the ceiling. “ISN’T THAT RIGHT, PYRO?”

There were three knocks on the ceiling above their heads, and Soldier smirked.


“Just tell me I can count on you not makin’ a scene at this get-together, would ya?” Engineer asked. “I wanna make sure you’re not actin’ out in front a’ Scout’s brand new baby…”

“Baby?” Soldier looked pensive for a moment. “Oh, yeah. His wife did have that baby, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she did,” said Engineer. “You were here when we found out, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” said Soldier. “Baby, right. Roger. Gotcha.”

At the end of the hallway on the other end of the house, the sound of the attic hatch opening could be heard, and Soldier cleared his throat. “I should be going,” said Soldier, shifting his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet, and back again. “Important matters to discuss.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, wouldja mind passin’ the news along to Pyro?” Engineer asked.

“Pretty sure he already knows by now,” said Soldier. He looked up at the ceiling and sniffed. “He’s not totally isolated up there, Engie. He knows what’s going on. He’s always listening…” Soldier trailed off as his eyes trailed over the plaster above them. Engineer looked to his daughter only to see her looking back at him, her face twisted in a grimace of disgust. Soldier noticed this, and before he could be noticed by either of them, he started to step backwards towards the hallway, until he disappeared behind the frame of the kitchen entrance. Engineer turned his head back to where Soldier had been, only to see the space no empty, and hear the sound of Soldier running down the hall.

“Daddy,” said Rosie, “I take back what I said about that just bein’ a joke.”

I can't say I'm going to miss the whole therapist romance arc. I find myself pretty much skimming everything involving Becky, it really slows down the pacing and feels like filler. Can't wait to see more of the other mercs though.

I don't mind reading about Dell trying to have a new relationship with someone. Guy deserves some happiness. They all do.

For a second I accidentally read "I’ve had my rabies shots” as "I've had my own rabies shots" and was terrified at the idea of Jane making up his own rabies vaccine. I wouldn't put it past him.

Finally caught up with this fic and I'm really loving it. Looking forward to everyone getting together again because I adore the way you write the team dynamic and I've kind of missed Heavy and Medic.

It's always such a pleasure see an update here. Can't wait for the reunion!

Less Becky, more angst Jane. Not that you don't write your OC great, I just want more Jane.

While I understand the importance of Becky's role in the Solly/Engie arc, it'll be nice to see things move along. More angsty Solly!

I love this so much :D please continue!

Don't bump threads!

I MADE ANOTHER UPDATE HEEEEYYYYYY. You guys must be frustrated by how long it takes between updates by now. I am too. This was going to be longer but I cut it sort so's I could put something out and work on Secret Santa stuff and whatever. Enjoy.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“So what now?”

Becky cracked open the bedroom window. “What do you mean?”

“I mean where do we go from here?” Engineer asked. He was sprawled out atop slightly rumpled sheets, naked and post-coital.

“I believe we already had that discussion the other day.” Becky walked back over to the bed, sitting on the edge. She opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

“Briefly,” said Engineer, rolling over onto his side towards Becky. He propped himself up on his elbow. “But, you know, I’m just wondering if we’re just going to keep meeting up like this?”

“I’m fine with it if you are,” said Becky, pulling out a cigarette. She put it between her lips, and offered the carton to Engineer.

He waved his hand. “Don’t smoke, thank you,” he said.

“You’re probably better off,” she said, putting the carton down on the nightstand. She flicked open her lighter, and when the flint caught the tinder, she put the flame to the end of the cigarette, and inhaled deeply, then exhaled, letting out a stream of smoke. Putting the lighter aside, she swung her legs onto the bed, and scooted closer to Engineer, settling to lie beside him. “Nasty habit, really. Seems like every day I hear about some new study linking these things to cancer.”

“You considered quitting?” Engineer asked.

“Considered it,” she said with a sigh. “But I keep putting it off. Keep telling myself I don’t need the additional stress right now. Rationalizing it.” She smirked. “I’m not exempt from having my own problems to solve.”

Engineer got a far-away look in his eye, looking past the curve of Becky’s hip. “Guess solvin’ problems is somethin’ we have in common, huh?”

Becky adjusted herself on the bed, and snuggled up against Engineer, wrapping an arm around him. “Is that so?”

“Well, I mean,” he tilted his head back, “I’m an engineer, after all. I’ve always said my job is about solvin’ practical problems. Hell, I feel like a lot of my life is just findin’ problems an’ figurin’ out ways to solve them.”

“Is that why you took in Jane and Pyro?” she asked.

This gave Engineer pause, squinting as he pondered her question. He ran his hand down her side, and rested it on her hip. “Never thought about it that way,” he finally admitted. “I just wanted to help them because I care about them, really. They’re like family to me. I couldn’t just leave ‘em to fend for themselves, given how bad they had it.”

“You’re very generous,” Becky noted. “I can’t think of a lot of people willing to do that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, well, I suppose not a whole lotta people went through what we went through together,” said Engineer. He found himself drawing little spirals on her skin with the tip of his forefinger. “It was a… unique situation, I suppose.”

“I get that impression,” said Becky, though her statement sounded oddly incomplete, as though she was going to add on more but thought better of it.

“Jane tell you about that much?” Engineer asked.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss that,” said Becky. “Doctor/patient confidentiality.” She took another drag on her cigarette exhaled. “I understand you must be curious but I’ve broken enough rules with you already.”

“Sorry,” Engineer rolled over onto his back, taking his hand off her hip and let it flop onto the mattress. “I just, well, I worry about him an’ Pyro, you know?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed, and rested her hand on his head, gently rubbing his scalp.

Any remaining tension left in Engineer’s body had completely melted away at that touch. He was limp as a rag doll against her, his eyes closed as he reveled in the sensation like a happy dog being petted.

“Must be nice, having somebody to talk to in confidence like that,” he said, his voice slurring just a bit. “Even if you don’t have problems quite that big… just bein’ able to have somebody listen and help you sort things out… it must be nice.”

“Most people can benefit greatly from therapy,” said Becky, “not just people suffering from mental illness. I think it’s normal to want to confide in another person, really.”

“That right?” the happy smile on Engineer’s face faded, but his eyes remained closed.

“Something wrong?”

He opened his eyes. “Mmm, no, it’s nothing.” He willed himself to sit up, grunting as he did so. “I should get going. I’ve an obligation tomorrow and if I’m out all night again, that might not go over too well.”

“I understand.” She ran her hand down his back, and he moved away from her, off of the bed and to the chair where his clothes had been tossed. She puffed on her cigarette before putting it out on the ashtray sitting on the nightstand.

Engineer got dressed, though reluctantly, and shuffled into his pants and shirt. He draped the tie he’d worn around his neck, the blue fractal tie he’d worn on their first date, and then found himself struggling with actually tying it.

“Need some help there?” Becky asked.

“I got this, I’m fine,” Engineer muttered, trying to figure out the correct way to loop his tie before Becky got up off the bed and a pair of feminine hands came into his vision, deftly fixing the mess Engineer had made and tightening the tie around him in a firm Windsor knot.

A part of him wanted to grumble about how he did have it, but as soon as he lifted his head to look up at her, he knew she would not have bought it for a second. “Thanks,” he said.

“You’re very welcome,” she said, still maintaining a grip on his tie, pulling him in closer to plant a kiss on his lips.

Engineer felt the blood rush to his face all over again, and he let out an embarrassing sounding chortle. Immediately, he cleared his throat and squared his shoulders in a feeble attempt to cover it up.

Becky chuckled. “God, you’re a goofy little man, aren’t you?”

“‘Goofy?’” Engineer echoed, indignantly smoothing down his tie. “I’m not goofy.”

“Shut up, you are too,” she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, “and that’s fine. I prefer you that way. It feels more genuine than the usual macho posturing I’ve had to put up with.”

“More genuine, huh?” He found his hands wandering to her hips, but soon after he rested them on her, he let them slide down back to his sides. Genuine, he thought, almost spitefully, turning over the word in his head as it might apply to him in disgust. “I… well, I’m flattered you think that. I’m not sure if I’m bein’ quite as genuine with you as you think I am.”

Becky gave this pause, and held Engineer back at arms’ length. He averted her direct gaze, looking to her from the corners of his eyes, and she tilted her head to fight his sudden evasion.

“And why’s that?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, forget I said that, I’m just…” he looked down to his chest, and put a hand over the tie. “I don’t really wear ties like this, you know? I figured if I showed up wearing a bowtie, you’d think I was some kinda hopeless geek.” Smooth, Dell, he thought. It was a true statement, of course, but she wasn’t going to swallow that, surely.

Her quiet giggling seemed to confirm this train of thought. “Well, you kind of are a hopeless geek,” she then said, completely derailing it.

“I don’t need your confirmation, thank you very much.” He puffed up in mock indignation, and she laughed. Her arms slid off his shoulders, and she stepped back to let him gather his jacket and shoes.

She sat on the edge of the bed, watching him, as though she were studying him. She probably was, he thought. He would have to be a complete idiot to think that she didn’t read into his slipping up. The last thing he needed was her finding about what, exactly, he had been doing with Soldier those years they’d worked together. Did she already know? Did she not care? Interrogating Soldier on what he said to her would be an invasion of privacy and a bright, suspicious, red flag that even Soldier couldn’t ignore, and asking her outright probably wouldn’t work either. How on earth could he possibly rationalize murdering people for a living to this woman? He wasn’t even sure he was able to do so with his own daughter.

As he put his boots on, he thought about Rosie. On the surface, their relationship seemed to be fine, but there were signs that his confession to her, in addition to the added presence of Pyro and Jane, were putting on some strain. She stayed in her room more than usual. There were times when he’d be in the living room with Pyro or Jane and she’d walk by and take a step back out of view. These were little things, but they certainly didn’t escape Engineer’s notice. He hadn’t even gotten into his experimentation with the Gunslinger with her; the thought of her own father chopping off his hand to slap on some metal monstrosity would have been too much for the poor, delicate thing. How could he have even begun to explain that?

“Are you all right, Dell?”

“Huh?” Engineer jerked up his head to look at Becky. She had pulled up her knees to her chest, and was regarding him curiously. “Oh, uh… I’m fine. Just lost myself in thought, is all.”

Becky nodded. “I understand,” she said. “Your thinking face just makes you look upset, is all. I thought something might be bothering you.”

Damn that woman’s power of perception, he thought. He forced a chuckle and shook his head. “I’m just fine, Becky. Just fine. Besides…” he looked to her, meeting those sweet, almond-shaped eyes, “I can’t rightly be bogged down by my troubles around someone as wonderful as you.”

Becky’s cheeks puffed out, and she tried and failed to stifle a fit of laughter, falling back onto the bed.

Engineer let out a sigh, half out of frustration, but also out of relief. “Yeah, you keep laughin’,” he said. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty, otherwise I’d have half a mind to put my foot down over this kind of ridicule.”

“Oh, Dell, no, I’m sorry.” Becky was now able to stifle her giggles. “I just… I’m comfortable with you, Dell.”

“Yeah?” He felt a warm, wooly sensation in his chest, as though his insides had slipped inside a warm, hand-knit sweater, quelling any remaining turmoil in his chest.

“Yeah,” said Becky.

There was a moment of silence between the two of them, and Engineer caught himself staring into her eyes, and cleared his throat. “I’d best get goin’,” he said, finally putting on his jacket.

“I’ll see you again next week,” she said.

He chuckled. “You can count on it.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was sometime around noon when the residents of the Conagher household were alerted to the first use of the teleporters by loud, frenzied barking. “I’ll get it!” Soldier announced to anyone within earshot, and headed outside. He had been ready to leave hours ago, but Engineer had come back home late (again), and was currently in the bathroom shaving. He hadn’t mentioned where he’d been all night, and seemed to dodge the question when Soldier asked. Soldier felt that he didn’t need to press further; a man should be entitled to his privacy, after all. Last thing he wanted was to come off like a nagging housewife.

Soldier stepped outside and marched towards the garage, where Guard Dog had been heard barking. He still was, but his vocalizations were friendlier now, and as soon as Soldier managed to catch a glimpse inside, it became obvious as to why that was.

“Soldier!” Heavy shouted, extending an arm to his former teammate. He and Medic were fresh off their teleporter, and Heavy was currently petting between Guard Dog’s ears as the dog rested its massive paws on his chest. “Is good to see you again, comrade!”

“I told you not to call me that,” said Soldier.

“Sorry,” said Heavy, flashing Soldier an apologetic smile. “Is habit.”

“Mein Gott, Liebechen, your shirt!” Medic shooed Guard Dog away from Heavy, and then inspected the front of Heavy’s dress shirt. “Ach, you’ve already gone and gotten it filzhy.” Soldier had not even noticed the bottle that Medic had been carrying until Medic set it down on Engineer’s workbench, out of Guard Dog’s reach. As Medic licked his thumb and applied it to the dusty paw prints on Heavy’s shirt, Soldier sidled up to bench and inspected the bottle.

“Pee-knot Grig-eeyo,” he read aloud.

“Zat’s ‘Pinot Grigrio,’” Medic corrected. “Heavy and I visited a vineyard in Milan last year und picked up a few bottles.”

“You didn’t bring any over here for the reunion,” Soldier noted.

“Yes, vell… zat vas an oversight, on our part,” admitted Medic bashfully, wiping away the remaining dust.

“I could go back and get another bottle,” suggested Heavy. “Ve vill never drink all ve got anyvay. Doktor vas drunk vhen he bought the crate.”

“I vas not drunk,” said Medic, putting his hands on his hips in indignation, “I just had a tiny bit too much to drink, is all.”

“Is called being drunk, Doktor,” said Heavy flatly.

“No, it vas ‘tipsy!’ Zhere is a distinction zhere zhat if you did not have ze alcohol tolerance of a little old lady you might be able to recognize it!”

“I do not have… low alcohol tolerance, like you say,” Heavy snapped back.

“Ha!” Medic barked a harsh laugh. “I find zat hard to believe, coming from ze man who goes from sober to passed-out intoxication after, vhat, two, zhree beers?”

“I’m sleepy drunk,” Heavy said, avoiding Medic’s gaze. “Besides, at least I am not sniffling, weepy drunk like you are!”

“Hey!” Soldier shouted over them. “Are you two ladies gonna carry on like this all day? Because I certainly didn’t sign up to have my afternoon taken up by having to listen to some stupid catfight!”

Medic and Heavy immediately ceased their arguing, as Heavy hung his head shamefully and Medic adjusted his tie.

“Sorry,” said Heavy.

“My apologies,” said Medic. “I’m afraid ve may have gotten a tad carried away.”

“You got carried away,” Heavy muttered under his breath. Medic shot him a quick glare, stopping any further arguments before they could start.

“So,” Medic clasped his hands together and gave the garage a cursory glance, “vhere are Engineer and Pyro?”

“They’re still getting ready,” said Soldier. “Engie got up late this morning and I have no idea what Pyro is even doing.”

“Vill Rosie be joining,” Heavy asked.

“Yeah, she’s coming,” said Soldier, as his gaze drifted up to the sky. “Soon as she found out Sniper was going to show up, she suddenly became interested.”

Heavy laughed. “She has crush, doesn’t she?”

Soldier just shrugged.

“Ach, I don’t understand vhy,” Medic said in disgust. “He’s such a scruffy, gangly, unkempt lout, and somehow he gets all zhese younger women clamoring all over him.”

“He has, eh, raw animal magnetics,” said Heavy. “Many women like dat, especially younger women. More sophisticated man like you, perhaps maybe not understand.”

“Firstly, it’s ‘animal magnetism,’ not ‘magnetics,’” Medic corrected. “Und secondly,” he jabbed a finger into Heavy’s chest, “if you are trying to suggest zhat Sniper, of all people, is some kind of… sexual honeypot or somezing, I vould have to object.”

“Yes, but you have a type,” Heavy argued. “Sniper is not your type, so he does not appeal to you.”

“Oh, and he appeals to you?”

Heavy put a finger to his lips and knitted his brow. “I can see vhy someone vould find him attractive,” he admitted.

“Really?” Medic’s voice turned shrill. “Really. Sniper? You zhink Sniper is attractive?”

“Vhat?” Heavy asked. “I don’t tink he is honeypot like you say, but he has a certain… eh, air about him?”

“Vhat is zhat supposed to mean?”

“HEAVY, DON’T YOU HAVE A BOTTLE OF PEANUT GRINGO TO BE BRINGING HERE?” Soldier interrupted, his face now bright red with a tumultuous mix of anger and embarrassment.

Heavy and Medic both recoiled at the sound of Soldier’s voice, and they became like shamed dogs both.

“You have nothing to be jealous of,” Heavy muttered as he turned back towards the teleporter.

“Who said I vas jealous?” Medic snapped back, sounding far more defensive than he would have preferred.

Heavy just groaned and stepped on the teleporter that they’d come from, turning around as it powered up to look at Medic with a look of resigned exasperation. He then disappeared in a flash of bright light, and Medic shook his head.

“I’m sorry you had to see zat, Soldier,” said Medic. “He’s been so argumentative lately, I don’t know vhat has gotten into him.”

“Uh huh,” Soldier said flatly.

“Well, hey there!”

Soldier and Medic turned to see Engineer walking towards the garage, with Pyro and Rosie trailing behind him.

“Wasn’t expecting you to be here already, Doc,” Engineer said, giving Medic a one-armed, chummy embrace as Pyro waddled towards the workbench and picked up the wine bottle still resting upon it. “Where’s Heavy?”

The teleporter Heavy had taken started to power up again, and in a flash, Heavy was back in the garage, holding another bottle of Pinot Grigrio.

Pyro held up the bottle he’d been looking over and pointed to it. “Shurm burrle!”

“Yes,” said Heavy, “same bottle, that Doktor and I did not forget to give Engineer last time.”

Engineer chuckled. “Right, of course,” he said, as Heavy made his way over and handed him the bottle. “I was thinkin’ we might wait for Demoman an’ Sniper before we head to Scout’s. Thank you, Heavy.”

“Is nothing,” said Heavy. “Brought bottle for Scout and his lady, too.”

“I’m sure they’ll find their way just fine,” clipped Medic. “We should get going.”

“Well, hang on a minute,” said Engineer, “you sure you don’t want a cup of coffee or somethin’ first? I gotta put this away-”

“Oh, of course, of course,” said Medic, “Ve can meet you zhere, it’s only a teleporter ride avay after all. Now,” he looked around at the other teleporters, “vhich vone is it?”

“That one in th’ corner,” Engineer replied, pointing it out.

“Danke, Engineer,” said Medic, and stepped onto it. “Heavy, are you coming?”

“Right after you, Doktor,” said Heavy. He shot Engineer a puzzled look, and walked over towards the teleporter held his hand up to shield his eyes as his Doktor flashed over.

“What’s up with Doc?” Engineer asked.

Heavy shrugged. “I could not tell you, I do not know.”

“Well, all right then,” said Engineer. “Guess I’ll meet you on over, then.”

“We’re not waitin’ for your other friends t’ come on over?” Rosie asked.

“They’ll make it over just fine,” Engineer insisted. “Jane, would you mind taking that chalk off my desk and marking th’ teleporter t’ Scout’s with it?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Soldier, and he started looking over the bench. Heavy stepped on the teleporter, as Pyro stuck by closely, watching him get whisked away more than halfway across the country.

“You know,” said Rosie, “I was thinking somebody might stay behind an’ wait for Demo an’ Sniper, so they don’t just show up to an empty garage.”

Engineer gave pause, and nodded. “You’re probably right,” he said. “Tell ya what, you go on ahead with Jane an’ Pyro, an’ I’ll meet up with you. How’s that sound?”

Rosie tried her best to mask her disappointment. “Uh… sure, okay,” she said. “That’s fine.”

Her father looked at her quizzically, and shrugged. “All righy then,” he said, and headed back to the house. Rosie crossed her arms and sighed, and looked down at Soldier, who was on his knees, writing on the concrete in front of the teleporter to Scout’s house.

“You know ‘house’ doesn’t have a ‘w’ in it, right?” she asked.

“I know that!” Soldier snapped, and he frantically rubbed out the “w” in “howse.” “I’m not stupid, you know!”

“Well, you sure ain’t a very good speller,” she snapped at him.

“Hey!” Soldier straightened up, still on his knees and jabbing his piece of chalk at her. “You watch it, young lady, or somebody might let it slip that you’re hot-to-trot for that smelly Australian hippie.”

“He’s not smelly! And I’m not ‘hot to trot’ for him neither!” She stamped her foot to emphasize this point.

“Of course you aren’t,” said Soldier sarcastically, bending back down to scribble a few arrows around the teleporter. “You only ask your father about him all the time and get all ga-ga around him.”

“I do not!” Rosie protested.

Soldier stood up, and as soon as he did, Pyro waddled onto the teleporter behind him. “Look, missy,” he said, “I don’t care if you like him or not. I just want to be spoken to with the respect I deserve, all right? You speak to me with some respect, and I won’t go blabbing about your stupid teenage girl crushes. We clear?”

Rosie groaned. “Fine,” she said. “But it wouldn’t hurt you either to show me some respect as well. I’m tired a’ you always talkin’ down at me like I’m just some kid.”

The teleporter behind Soldier flashed, and Pyro was gone. Soldier blinked as he tried to process this, his jaw set. Finally, he extended his hand to Rosie.

“It’s a truce then,” he said. “Deal?”

She hesitated a moment before finally taking Soldier’s hand and giving it a firm shake. “Deal.”

They broke their handshake, and Soldier stepped aside, gesturing to the teleporter. “After you, then.”

Rosie examined the teleporter a moment, her movements fraught with apprehension. “You sure this thing is safe?” she asked.

“Of course it is!” Soldier barked. “I’ve used it a thousand times! It’s perfectly safe. Just give it a whirl!”

“All right,” said Rosie, and she stepped onto the platform. Her eyes widened as the bar beneath her feet started to spin faster and faster, gaining momentum until the whole room turned bright, and she scrunched her eyes shut reflexively.

When she opened them again, she found herself in a strange basement, and Pyro was standing there waving at her.

“Whoa,” she said as she stepped off. “Far out.”

Pyro mumbled excitedly and took Rosie by the hand, leading her upstairs.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

By the time Engineer had emerged from the basement, there was already a sizable crowd in Scout’s house, and the realization hit him that there was a sizable number of strangers there inside of Scout’s kitchen. Every single new face was female, all flocked around Scout’s wife Bunny, and every one of them seemed to be competing for the most eye-searing-ly pink wardrobe they could muster. Among them was Heavy, looking like a bear who had wandered amongst a flock of pink flamingos. One of these women, a redhead with lime green cat’s eye glasses that were been a decade out of style, looked up from the baby she was holding and noticed Engineer.

“Oh my goodness, it’s another one!” she cried out. “C’mon over hon, you’re here to see the baby, right?”

Engineer forced a polite smile, trying not to consider the possibility of even more people knowing about his use of the teleporters. “Yes, I am, Ma’am.”

The others in the semicircle had now noticed them, and the redhead handed off the baby back to Bunny, as though following some unspoken signal that the baby’s mother was the one who was to show off the infant. Bunny approached Engineer, baby in arm, and gave him a one-armed hug.

“Engie! It’s so good ta see you again, hon,” she said.

“Good to see you too,” said Engineer. He peered down at the baby she was holding, and the smile on his face became genuine. “And I suppose this is little Jean Louise?”

“Yes, she is,” she said, beaming down at the tiny infant, who looked between them both with saucer-like blue eyes. “Say hi, baby!”

Jean said nothing, but made a puzzled noise, and waggled a tiny fist.

“Oh, she’s a darlin’,” said Engineer. “May I?”

“Oh sure, sure,” said Bunny, and gently passed her to Engineer. Immediately Engineer’s muscle memory took over as he cradled the baby in both arms. The baby’s wobbled head teetered around with an almost permanent look of wonder. Engineer smiled. “Well, hey they, sweetheart.”

“Engie! Ya made it!” Engineer looked up and saw Scout walking into the kitchen, as a toddler who looked like a much younger version of him followed him like a shadow.

“Enja made it!” said the little boy, mirroring Scouts gestures.

“Well, hey, Scout,” said Engineer, giving Scout a small wave with the hand on top of the baby. He craned his neck to look down at the young boy now clinging to Scout’s leg. “This must be Ray then?”

“Yep!” Scout lifted the boy up and held him so that their faces were next to each other. “Handsome little fella, ain’t he?”

Ray shrieked with laughter, and Scout winced.

“Easy on the eardrums kid, you’ll rupture them,” said Scout. “Say ‘hi’ to yer uncle Engie.”

“YOU’RE BALD!” said Ray, and burst into a fit of giggles.

The flock of women watching this laughed along with him, and Heavy chuckled and shook his head looking to a very befuddled looking Engineer. “He said same ting to me.”

“I swear, I was not the one who taught him that,” said Bunny to her friends.

“Aw, c’mon, be nice, Ray-Ray,” said Scout, “Say ‘hi,’ like a decent human being, why don’cha?”

“You’re bawld,” Ray emphasized, and giggled again.

“Hon, lemme have him,” said Bunny, “I think somebody needs a nap.”

“No!” Ray squealed, and started to kick in squirm in Scout’s arms. Scout held out the toddler at arm’s length, passing him off to his wife, who seemed totally indifferent to the boy’s struggling as he punched at the air with tiny fists. “No no no!”

“I’ll be back down in a minute!” Bunny announced as she headed for the stairs, maintaining a tenuous grip on the shrieking toddler.

Heavy laughed. “Takes after you in every way, Scout.”

“Yeah, laugh it up, big guy,” said Scout.

The women in the room had now migrated around Engineer, and the redhead spoke up. “So, you’re called Engie, huh?”

“Huh?” he looked up from the baby in his arms. “Oh, yeah. We’re, uh, used to callin’ each other by nicknames…”

“Oh, so are we!” said another one of the women, a dark-skinned tiny little thing with glasses that made her wide eyes seem even wider. “I mean, most’ve the time. I’m Bambi, but most everybody calls me Bam-Bams.”

“And I’m Candy, short for Candice” said the red-head. “Well, I mean, it’s not shorter, really, it’s th’ same number a’ syllables, but it’s two letters shorter, so that’s close enough, right?”

“I suppose so,” said Engineer.

“And that shy one back there,” said Candy, pointing to the chubby woman hanging back behind her with hair so blonde and big it put Bunny’s to shame, “is Kitty.”

“Hello,” said Kitty, her voice so tiny it sounded like a toy piano that could talk.

“We got a Bunny an’ a Kitty,” explained Bambi. “Add me in an’ the four of us are a regular pettin’ zoo.”

“Think you’re comin’ on strong enough there, Bam-Bams?” Candy asked sarcastically.

“Beg pardon?” asked Engineer.

“Aw, gimme a break, Candy, he’s like the only cute, available guy who’s walked in here,” said Bambi. “Whatcha expect, that I should go for drill sergeant or that… other little guy?”

“Speaking of… pardon me, ladies,” Engineer looked up at Heavy. “Where are Jane an’ Pyro an’ Rosie, anyway?”

“They are are in other room vit Medic and Scout’s mother,” said Heavy.

Engineer peered over and into the living room to see Scout standing over the living room couch, where his mother was sitting between Medic and Rosie with what appeared to be a photo album in her lap. Standing off on the other end of the couch was Soldier, who was chuckling to himself as Scout was groaning and complaining as he looked down at his mother. Pyro was sitting Indian style in the middle of the floor, watching these proceedings with keen interest. Engineer walked in, squirmy baby still in his arms, seemingly unnoticed by anyone else in the room.

“You’re doin’ this on purpose, aren’t you?” Scout groaned. “Bringin’ out my baby pictures to get at me like this. Nobody really wants to see ‘em anyway!”

“Speak for yourself,” said Medic, flashing Scout a gleefully evil grin.

“Don’t get so full a’ yourself,” said Scout’s mother. “There’s seven other babies in here. You’re not the only one I got a picture of covered in birthday cake on a highchair.”

“Ooh, where’s that one?” asked Rosie.

“Aw, geez!” Scout groaned, as Bunny descended down the stairs. “Bun, can you tell Ma to put away the freakin’ baby pictures already?”

“Why, did she get to the one of you in the pink bunny suit?” asked Bunny. “That one’s my favorite. You look so pwecious!”

“Oh, I must see zat vone,” said Medic, wriggling in his seat in giddy anticipation.

“Aw, no ya don’t!” Scout said, reaching for the album and attempting to yank it from his mother’s hands. Her grip held, however, and she yanked it back with even greater force, causing Scout to tumble forward onto Medic’s lap. Engineer became suddenly aware that Heavy and Bunny’s friends had followed close behind him, and they burst into laughter, along with everyone else save for Medic and Scout.

Scout was now rigid on Medic’s lap, paralyzed by this humiliation, not unlike a possum playing dead. Medic nudged Scout off of his lap until Scout rolled onto the floor, and he shook his head. “Such a disrespectful boy,” he tut-tutted.

“Aw, he’s not so bad,” said Scout’s mother. “He just needs a reminder of who brought him into this world every once in a while, is all.”

Scout stood up and brushed himself off, his pride having been grievously wounded. Bunny rushed to his side, and helped smooth out his shirt and slacks, fussing over him until the bruises on his fragile ego had been sufficiently healed. “Thanks, Bun,” he said.

“No problem, sweetie,” said Bunny, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Is this normally how things go down in your house, Scout, or are y’all playin’ it up on account of havin’ guests?” Engineer asked.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Engie,” said Scout.

“Oh, is that yer Engineer friend?” Scout’s mother closed the photo album in her lap and handed it off to Medic as she stood up. “Oh, I’ve heard so much about you!”

“Have you now?” asked Engineer.

“Oh, sure, tons! Here, lemme take her off your hands, doll,” she lifted the baby from Engineer’s arms, and held against her chest so that the baby was peeking over her shoulder.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss…?” Engineer extended a hand to Scout’s mother.

“Please, just call me ‘Ma,’ everybody does,” she said, and shook his hand while still supporting the baby.

“Are you sure?” asked Engineer, “’cause, well, I don’t think you’re probably that much older than I am-”

“Oh, well that’s sweet of you to say,” said Scout’s mother. She turned her head and looked behind her, confirming that the other guests were now talking amongst themselves. “Spy did tell me you were such a gentleman.”

“Spy that that?” Engineer asked, not sure if they were discussing the same person.

“Said you were handsome, too,” said Scout’s mother with a sly wink. “I think I agree.”

“I, uh… well I don’t…” Engineer found himself both strangely flattered and completely flummoxed, and when the door to the basement opened and Sniper emerged, he tried not to look too relieved as he waved him over. “Hey, Slim!” he called out. “Good ta see you made it! C’mon over.”

On the couch, Rosie immediately perked up, but caught herself as Medic looked over to her from a particularly goofy looking grade school photo of Scout. As Sniper walked in, quickly swarmed by guests and introduced to new faces, Medic snuck a glance of the young lady next to him, peering at Sniper with great interest. Rosie’s eyes met his own briefly before she leaned back again, looking up at the ceiling innocently. Medic kept his gaze on her a few moments more, before he turned back to the living room entrance, and turned stone-faced.

There, coming into the living room, her arm in Demoman’s, was Ilse, who had spotted him first. Though she was being introduced to Bunny’s friends, she was able to look away for a moment, and cast Medic a wry smirk.

“Scheiße,” he muttered.

Small typo at the end, "Spy that that?" should be "Spy said that?"

> 172
Oops.

Beta-ing this time around was more hectic than usual.

and he frantically rubbed out the “w” in “howse.”
Did Soldier learn to read off of Winnie the Pooh or what?

Ahhh I finally caught up on this wonderful fic! It's just so rare to find a TF2 fic that has believable characters! It seems like so many are by people that have never actually played the game, and/or done any research! They hurt so much to read!

Wow! I love this fanfic so much! I constantly find myself giggling I am just so impressed by your characterizations of the mercs, everything is really... perfect! Heavy and Medic are so adorable and I love everything about them, You write the characters beautifully. There are so many small details you've added and the way they interact is wonderful! I can't wait for more development on Pyro and Soldier, and this whole ordeal with Heavy and Medic bickering too. They really are so sweet and I wish we could see more of their relationship. The only things I find myself skimming over are the interactions with Rosie and Rebecca, with the exceptions of the therapy scenes. I'm just not partial to OCs, but you've integrated them into the story nicely, and I'm happy for Engie. The time period is always regarded which I love, because so many authors like to skip over that small detail. But yeah, I'll stop my ramblings and just let you know how much I am truly enjoying this! I hope you do update soon! Thank you for putting so much time and effort into this story!

Wow! I love this fanfic so much! I constantly find myself giggling I am just so impressed by your characterizations of the mercs, everything is really... perfect! Heavy and Medic are so adorable and I love everything about them, You write the characters beautifully. There are so many small details you've added and the way they interact is wonderful! I can't wait for more development on Pyro and Soldier, and this whole ordeal with Heavy and Medic bickering too. They really are so sweet and I wish we could see more of their relationship. The only things I find myself skimming over are the interactions with Rosie and Rebecca, with the exceptions of the therapy scenes. I'm just not partial to OCs, but you've integrated them into the story nicely, and I'm happy for Engie. The time period is always regarded which I love, because so many authors like to skip over that small detail. But yeah, I'll stop my ramblings and just let you know how much I am truly enjoying this! I hope you do update soon! Thank you for putting so much time and effort into this story!

Please never stop updating this story... I'm not the kind of person who reads fanfics all day, hell, I hardly even read, but this story is just so fucking good. Every other fic that I've tried to read is just boring. This one actually has characters that have true character. This truly feels like a follow up to the end of TF2.

Looking back at this story, I see what a long trip it's been.

Oh and BTW, your follow up story to "With Apologies to Harlan Ellison" made me cry my eyes out. I hope you're enjoying my tears.

>>178

Nice name there. I dig it.

I admit I haven't been writing much for this story lately. Updates feel like they're coming out slower and slower. I've been lacking the motivation lately just because there's other things I want to work on. I don't want to abandon this story though, I just worry that I have bitten off more than I can chew.

Also, I didn't write up the follow up to WAtHE, that would be Dotchan. She wrote it because she was too bummed out by the ending and wanted some closure. I think our writing styles are pretty different.

But thanks for the encouragement, bro.

>>179

Take all the time you need for this story, every update is worth it.

Also, thanks for the clarification on who wrote the follow up to WAtHE, I've been confused about that for a while. The thing is, Dotchan's story had even less closure than your original story did, both were still great though.

Also, if you don't mind me asking, I never really understood the Dotchan site. Are you friends with her? Or did you just decide to host your fics on her site?

>Also, if you don't mind me asking, I never really understood the Dotchan site. Are you friends with her? Or did you just decide to host your fics on her site?
I offered her hosting, 'cause even pre-crash I noticed that the
Chan was pushing old threads off the face of the internet forever. We're not really acquainted with each other beyond this site.

>>181

Thanks. It's nice to see that TF2chan is still minimally active.

Also thank you for all of your great writings, they really mean a lot to me.

This is one of the best, if not the best TF2 fanfic I've ever read. The characterization is perfect for every merc and the OC's worked in aren't annoying or out of place at all. I haven't enjoyed reading anything as much as this in a long time, especially fanfiction. Thank you so much for writing this and I really hope you do continue, but I understand how hard it can be without the motivation to write. Your other work is really great reading too, and I wanna just let you know how awesome you are as a writer and how much I appreciate fanfiction of this quality. It just seems so natural, I love it!

Please continue writing this... It's been 4 months...

Man, this story is so great, there is such a lack in quality tf2 fanfics out there. I've read most of CatBountry's other tf2 fictions and was blown away by every one of them, plus now I have finally caught up on this one and I can't wait to read more. Seriously, the characterization, the humor, and the seemingly natural progression of the story line is just wonderful! But I was devastated to see the gap in updates recently, I really hope this lovely work isn't being abandoned. CatBountry you are such an amazing author and I hope you do have plans to continue this.

Seven months, no update, god help us...

>>185
>>186

Cat's internet's been out, and she's been working selling artwork at cons.

Also, I want to say she updated it, she just didn't put the update on the chan, but I'd have to check.

>>187

My internet was out last night, but it hasn't been out. And yes, I did sell some artwork at a con this year, and hope to sell more later this year. And no, I didn't update and not put it on the chan.

Honestly I feel like I have bitten off way more than I can chew with this story and I am becoming more doubtful that I'll ever finish. I've lost a lot of my enthusiasm for the story and each update ends up leaving me scrambling to keep up with it as far as my characterization is concerned. That, and I've been finding it hard to get motivated to do much of anything lately.

I don't know if I'm going to work on it. I guess it's on hiatus.

If I change my mind, I'll let you guys know.

I'm sorry.

>>189

Damn, that's unfortunate :/

If you need to stop or take a break, please do. The last thing I'd want is for you to feel forced to finish.

I forgot to follow the updates on Afterwards for a few years, then came back and found all of this to read at once! What a pleasure. Your characterizations are completely solid, as is the plot. The suspension of disbelief is perfect because every plot point makes sense; nothing feels forced, it just seems like the natural interaction of the characters. I also laughed several times, your humour is great too. And the emotions are so powerful - Engineer's visceral anger when he attacks Johnny, Heavy and Medic's pity for Soldier, and the chemistry between Engineer and Rebecca Marshall.

Plotwise, it's so incredibly satisfying to read Soldier and Pyro's progress with Dr Marshall. It's not just the fact that they're getting somewhere, it's also how there are difficulties along the way, for example how Pyro wasn't able to succeed the first time they try to look at their face in the mirror, or how it took Dr Marshall several sessions to realize that Soldier responds well to being ordered to discuss a particular topic. It's because their success doesn't come easily that makes it so satisfying.

It was also neat to see the resolution of other plot points, like Soldier's accusations of the Medic being a Nazi and why Soldier is so bothered by homosexuality.

Another thing I liked about reading this was how every incidental character reads like a unique, three-dimensional human being. Not an easy thing to pull off in such a small amount of screen time. I feel like even the most minor characters could have been the stars of their own extended stories.

Even if you don't continue or conclude this story, I've enjoyed it tremendously. Thankyou for writing.

Fanfic is ded.

:(

>>191

Cat has been working very hard on a piece of original fiction lately.

>>192

Pretty much, yeah. I've pretty much lost all interest in writing this fic and it's better to focus on original stuff anyway.

I've got a tag for my new story on my Tumblr if anybody is interested. Heads up though, it is so, so NSFW.

http://catbountry.tumblr.com/tagged/our-fearsome-goddess

Thank you all for your feedback and support. You guys are great.

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