"I am going and zat is final!"

One would not assume he was a middle aged man if they were to hear that comment and see the way he crossed his arms and stomped his foot like a petulant child. However, at the moment, that was exactly what he looked like. To say the least, however, he did cut an imposing figure when he did that. Then again, his intimidating presence could likely be because he was responsible for keeping the entire team alive in the midst of battle. His indirect control over the teammates' lives was a good enough motivation for them to respect his wishes. Besides, nobody wanted to wind up a twisted heap of a medical experiment either. So in the end, what Medic demanded, Medic got.

Of course, if Medic was going, his faithful and large sidekick, Heavy Weapons Guy, would be tagging along too. Plus, there was the added bonus of getting a sandwich out of the excursion. It was often his reward for being the pack mule. Homemade sandwiches were delicious, never would he say otherwise, but sometimes, he enjoyed the taste of a restaurant one with all the extras. Medic may call it a caloric catastrophe, Heavy called it delicious.

"Aye, I'm going too. You laddies don't know proper whiskey."

As if to reiterate his point, Demoman took a giant swig from the bottle he was clutching with one hand and finished it off with a flourish. With a loud, alcohol-tinged belch, causing the Medic to grimace and step farther away, Demo haphazardly chucked the bottle behind him, but instead of the sound of shattering glass, there was a loud clunking noise, and then the sound of shattering glass. Granted, the bottle did not break into as many pieces as it could have had it not ricocheted off of the Soldier's helmet. Speaking of which, Soldier was currently trying to figure out why he was under attack and whipped out his trench shovel with a yell.

"Aaaah! Battle stations, maggots! Quick, use the couch as a barrier! Grab a cushion, men! The enemy is upon us!"

The others watched as the man dove over the back of the nearby couch, and then tucked and rolled when he landed on the other side. Medic slapped the palm of his hand over his face and heaved a deep, deep sigh. Coming in at the moment Soldier decided to barricade himself behind a couch, was a gas mask wearing man, or woman, as it has been proposed by the others, who obviously noticed Soldier clutching a couch cushion and surveying the room suspiciously.

"Mmmph, mmp?"

"I don't know…I don't vant to know…"

That was the only answer Medic could give to Pyro's muffled question. At this point, the Soldier threw another cushion at Pyro, fully intending to share in his defense; however, Pyro was unaware of this. As a result, he, or she, picked up the cushion that bounced off his, or her, flame retardant, full-bodied suit and threw it back at Soldier who was caught off guard by the counter attack. He stared, baffled as to why his offered defense was rejected.

"Mmph, mm mpf."

With a final accusatory point at Soldier, Pyro waltzed off as well as a person who dressed like him, or her, could. Then he or she turned to Medic and listed off several items of which Medic duly noted.

"Ja, ja. Propane, matches, hair spray, and Cheetos….Vait, Cheetos?"

While it was not any stretch of the imagination for another person to enjoy the crunchy, fake cheese-y snack, Medic just had a hard time imagining Pyro munching on them underneath that mask. Or perhaps it just did not fit in his mind because the list was so incongruous? But he need not have dwelled on it for Pyro was conscientious enough to clarify before leaving the room.

"Mm mp mm mmmph."

Well, that certainly made much more sense now. Seeing as the Cheetos were for Engineer, Medic was much more at mental peace. Now that the Cheetos issue was resolved, Medic was growing impatient with all the interruptions and noise. He made a final call.

"If any of you dummkopfs vant anyzing, speak now or never talk to me again!"

When he was met with only silence and the suspicious stare of Soldier, Medic decided it was as good as any time to leave. He marched out of the room and towards the exit down the hall, Demo and Heavy hot on his heels.

After they left, Soldier finally suppressed his irrational paranoia and set the couch cushion back in its rightful place. While he did this, another man casually strolled in and tipped his akubra in greeting to Soldier. As he did, the man noticed the broken bottle on the floor and scratched his head.

"Eh, what happened here, mate?"

Soldier looked at the broken bottle on the floor that Sniper was currently pointing to and shrugged nonchalantly.

"An attack, that's what! Always be on guard there, Soldier, or else you'll find yourself on the short end of the stick."

With a salute of finality, Soldier marched out of the room to wherever it was he intended to go, leaving a slightly confused Sniper in his wake. He had no idea what a broken bottle had to do with an attack of a short stick, or whatever it was Soldier was blathering on about. All he knew was that there was broken glass around and somebody could potentially get hurt. And if life were not ironic enough as is, Sniper heard rapid footsteps approach and before he could warn the owner of said footsteps, it was too late.

"Son of a bitch! #^$#*#(*$&^#%)!"

Sniper was always fascinated with how creative the youngest member of their rag tag team of crazy misfits was with generating series of expletives. Then again, that seemed to be the trend with today's youth. They were becoming so loose-lipped and unmindful of their elders. Not that Sniper would ever say he was old, but sometimes he did feel a little out of the loop when he conversed with Scout. He consoled himself when he learned the others also had a difficult time keeping up.

"Careful of that glass there."

Whether out of some sub-conscious spite or something else, Sniper felt the need to state the glaring obvious after the fact occurred. He was met with a resentful glare from Scout who was on the floor nursing his bleeding elbow. Had he been warned earlier, he would have jumped over the pile of glass. However, a certain somebody felt the need to mention it after he slipped on a piece and fell right on top of the shards. Sensing the accusation burning behind Scout's glare, Sniper just shrugged and smirked ever so slightly.

"Not my fault if you move too fast for me to tell ya, mate."

"Excuses! Dirty, stupid excuses! Psh, aw man…what the hell is a broken bottle doin' here anyways?"

Picking himself off the ground, Scout kept his hand on his elbow and examined it closer. There was still a shard of glass sticking in the skin right above the joint. The sight was worse than what he actually felt, but add the two together and Scout decided he was in pain. Then came the difficult question: did he leave it in or take it out? Had it been lower or a smaller shard, he would have just yanked the damn thing out. However, it was larger and it at least looked bad, so he was left standing there staring at his arm.

"Ya know, starin' at it isn't going to make it better."

Reappearing with a broom and the trashcan was Sniper who watched the Scout scowl at him. Needless to say, he was amused. But, wanting to spare his eardrums, Sniper bit down on any type of remark and quickly disposed of the broken bottle with a few careful sweeps into the trashcan.

"Yeah well…You suck and it hurts."

"Impressive. Quite the wit ya got there, kiddo."

"I ain't a 'kiddo', Captain Kangaroo."

Scout grumbled and skulked into the kitchen followed by Sniper who was calmly putting everything back in its place.

"So who is this Captain Kangaroo?"

It was not the first time Scout called him that, not that it bothered him much. The series of nicknames he received from Scout amused him more often than not. It was too bad Medic never approved of anything that Scout said. But he was not the only one. It was usually best to just ignore him. Of course, it was sometimes difficult to do considering the loud and annoying voice Scout had.

"Some guy with big pockets and does crap with puppets and stuff."

Sniper paused and cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Wait, he's not a kangaroo?"

"No."

Well that was one of the most misleading names Sniper could think of naming an individual who was not an actual marsupial. Then he thought of something else.

"Is he Australian?"

Scout paused in the middle of grabbing a towel and looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling.

"Uuh, I don't think so…Nope, not Australian."

He shut the drawer towel drawer and walked over to the small kitchen table. Throwing the towel on the table, Scout plopped down onto a chair and began re-examining his arm and completely ignored the baffled expression on Sniper's face.

"So he's called Captain Kangaroo but he is neither a kangaroo nor Australian?...How the bloody 'ell does that work?"

"Don't look at me, I didn't come up with it…Besides, I think it has to do with his pockets…ya know, like a kangaroo pouch?"

Sniper was unsatisfied and did not buy that answer at all. If it was because of his pockets, why did they not call him "Captain Pockets" or something? Then again, there really was no logic behind children's shows he supposed. Instead, he found himself sitting across from Scout, watching in amusement as the latter attempted to take the glass out.

"Want a hand?"

"No."

The answer was a bit clipped and Sniper just shrugged and resumed watching the Scout squirm as he tried to get a good grip on the shard. He would begin to pull, then flinch, then curse, and then try again. At the moment, Sniper really had nothing better to do, so he just watched the free show.

Finally fed up with the rate of his success, or lack thereof, Scout sighed and glared at Sniper.

"Ya know what? If your just gonna sit there and stare, might as well help…or somethin'…please."

It was probably the most reluctant "please" Sniper had ever heard in his life. When he said it, Scout made a "hmph" noise and looked away. Shaking his head, Sniper scooted his chair closer and smirked.

"Bet your mum beat that one into you, eh?"

While Scout nodded his head, Sniper gripped the shard of glass and pulled as hard as he could, making sure to pull straight out.

"%$#^$^$^%#%&$#%$!!!"

Scout's hand flew up to where the piece of glass had been and shot a venomous glare at Sniper who held the bloodied shard of glass triumphantly. He examined the newly acquired piece, ignoring Scout who was currently holding the towel to his elbow.

Being careful as to not become contaminated by the dirtied piece of glass, Sniper carefully dropped it into the trashcan and for precaution's sake, washed his hands. When he looked over at Scout again, he was mummifying his arm with bandages that he pulled out of nowhere, or at least, that was how it seemed to Sniper. Then again, now that he thought about it, Scout did wear bandages during fights, so he probably had a stash somewhere on him.

"…I'm bored."

So close, he had been so close. Now that that was taken care of, Sniper was going to try and sneak away before Scout could even speak again. That was what he got for deluding himself with hopeful wishing.

Whenever Scout prefaced anything with, "I'm bored," it was sure to mean hell for anybody and everybody nearby. During battles with the other team, Scout was wired like a gerbil on speed. Outside of battles, Scout was like a hamster on LSD. It was no wonder that Medic always wanted to leave any chance he got.

Medic was a bit of a drama queen, but an irritable one at that, and for some unknown reason, Scout made it a habit to irritate him first, before moving on to his next target.

It was currently unknown as to whether or not the Scout intentionally tried to annoy them all or not. However, they were aware that some were often targeted more than others. Sniper had the good fortune of not being one of those. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Scout had, at one time, deemed him boring. Why, he was boring, Sniper did not know. All he knew about it was from an irritated Medic who saw fit to grace him with one of his rants.

"Sooo, whatcha doin'?"

Now he understood why Scout could come off as annoying. He was incessantly chattering about something or another, and it would not have been so bad had Sniper actually been able to follow his train of thought. Also, it would not have been so bad if Scout talked, then left. But no, he did not do that. He trailed behind Sniper wherever he went and pestered him with odd questions. He knew his home country held a certain mystique to it, but seriously, he was beginning to wonder just what Americans thought about Australia.

"Hey, you ever pet a wombat?"

"Shot one."

"Ever pet a kangaroo?"

"Shot a few."

"How about a dingo?"

"Shot a few of those too."

Scout stared at him, unbelief written all over his face.

"Do you shoot everything you see?"

Sniper turned his head and stared Scout down straight in the eye.

"Seriously contemplating it, mate."

He was unsure if Scout understood his subtext, but whether he did or did not, made no difference. He resumed his questioning right away.

"Can you throw a boomerang?"

"Yes…and no, not all Australians can throw a boomerang."

The brief look of disappointment on Scout's face was amusing. The idea that not all Australians were gun shooting, knife toting, boomerang slinging adventurers was a let down. Then again, he was not sure where Scout originally got that idea. Maybe he was the first Australian the Scout ever met and sure enough, he did satisfy all three.

"So you can at least throw one, right?"

Sniper was unsure as to how to translate Scout's sudden movement to lean forward. But Sniper could think fast on his feet and decided to run with it. There just might be hope yet.

"Sure…I actually got one. Want to try it out?"

"Hell yeah!"

There was a brief moment of jubilation on Sniper's part when he heard that. Wasting no time at all, Sniper hurriedly ran to his room and threw objects around haphazardly until he managed to find the curved piece of wood. Jogging back to where he left the Scout, he handed it over and nodded his head.

"How 'bout you go on back and try it out now, eh?"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Scout was off in a sprint to go try it out. Sniper watched him leave and did a triumphant fist pump in the air when he could no longer hear him. Heaving a sigh of relief, Sniper resumed his original task of polishing his kukri in peace and quiet.

After making his kukri glisten in the light, Sniper decided it would be a good time to clean his rifle. Since cleaning and polishing his weapons of death put him in such a good mood and the weather was so nice out, Sniper decided he would move his project outdoors. Plus, he was slightly curious as to how Scout was faring with the boomerang. It's not easy to learn on one's own and Sniper thought for sure Scout would have given up, but when he stepped outside, he was pleasantly surprised to see him still at it.

Finding the patio table randomly kept outdoors, Sniper set his stuff down and began cleaning while keeping an eye on Scout. Even though he was glad Scout was too busy with the boomerang, he was still wary of being hit by a stray boomerang. Whether it was thrown right nor not, a chunk of wood colliding with a head would hurt.

As he was cleaning his rifle, he watched the boomerang fly to one end of the yard followed by Scout, then fly to the other side followed again, by the Scout. This was some of the best entertainment he had had in a long time. In the midst of enjoying the general atmosphere, Sniper did not notice that another man had joined him in watching the scene until the newcomer spoke up.

"…What is he doing?"

The soft spoken, Texan accented voice sounded vaguely confused. Standing with his arms crossed was Engineer. His head turned back and forth as he watched Scout throw something, run over to it, throw the object again and run after it. Scout never deviated from the pattern.

"Thought I'd give him a little something to keep him occupied…until the good doctor comes back anyways."

Engineer chuckled. He was not unaware of the Scout's penchant for irritating Medic. Originally, he had been searching for Sniper for some reason or another, but was no completely distracted by Scout and the boomerang that he forgot what he wanted in the first place. Grabbing another chair, Engineer plopped into it and settled in to enjoy the change of pace.

"How long as he been at it?"

With a brief glance down at his watch, Sniper shrugged and guesstimated.

"I'd say about an hour or so."

There was a low whistle from the Engineer. He had to give Sniper some credit for being able to distract Scout for so long. Then again, he had never really seen Scout so determined to do something before. Odd how all it took to keep him distracted was a piece of wood. Had Engineer known that earlier on, he would have given the boy a stock pile of wood. Hell, he would even throw in a tool as a bonus if it would keep Scout occupied.

After a few minutes, Sniper and Engineer started a bet as to how much longer Scout would keep it up. However, their fun was abruptly cut short when the boomerang collided with something instead of just clunking to the ground like usual. Then suddenly, the Spy fazed into visibility as he fell to the ground unconscious. Scout had a look of absolute horror before slowly inching towards the body. As he did, he pulled out his trusty bat and stopped when he was about two feet away. He then leaned forward and nudged the Spy's body and quickly retreated a few feet the minute he did. But much to Scout's relief, Spy did nothing but remain face planted on the ground.

"Uh, guys...I think I broke our spy."

He looked over at Sniper and Engineer who wore blank expressions and sat quietly. They remained like that for a few minutes before Engineer and Sniper broke into unrestrained laughter. Engineer cackled and pointed at the prone body.

"Serves the cheap, sneaky jackass right."

"Couldn't agree more with ya, mate."

What Spy was doing, cloaked at that, nobody knew. The only thing Engineer and Sniper knew was that the one class that was a constant thorn in their side had just been leveled by a boomerang thrown by Scout. Even if their Spy never attacked them, just the idea of people sneaking around, backstabbing, and sapping machinery made them far less sympathetic with Spy.

"Vhat is going on here?...And vhat is Spy doing on ze floor?"

Scout raised his hand and then pointed at the boomerang in his other hand.

"I think I gave him a concussion with this."

"Is zat a…boomerang?"

Scout, Engineer, and Sniper all nodded in unison. Medic then turned his attention to Spy and then shrugged with an eerily happy grin.

"Fine. Vhen he vakes up, send him to my office. 'Till zen…just leave ze tricky bastard."

Medic turned on his heel and marched off to his office. Deciding it was best to go about his own business, Engineer also took his leave, not before looking at the unconscious Spy and cackling once again. Sniper sighed, locked all pieces of his weapon in place and also felt it best to leave while he still could. That just left Scout who was looking back and forth between the boomerang and Spy.

Not sure as to why he felt so uneasy, Scout looked around a bit before tip-toeing off to hide the weapon. Even though Spy was out cold, Scout still felt paranoid about him, so he quickly sprinted off to his room where he planned on staying for a while.

And thus, that was how they left Spy in the yard for the remainder of the day, sprawled out and unconscious.

A/N: It's been a while, hasn't it? I finally got some breathing room from school work and capturing wildlife to write something up. Hopefully, the next update shouldn't take so long. I now have a couple of ideas floating around, plus, I finally got my computer up and running Team Fortress 2 and have rekindled my passion. Thus, more TF2 goodness to come...And yes Phoenix, that's what she said. :D

Nothing of great import here, just some randomness. It's a bit longer than my other chapters since I spent so long on the details. Then again, how they would interact outside of the battlefield fascinates me. So I just found out about Captain Kangaroo not being a kangaroo or Australian. For the longest time I had always assumed something along the lines of a kangaroo, but let me tell you, I was shocked and dismayed to learn otherwise. And seriously, I have no idea why Spy would be running around cloaked in the yard. But you know what? I would be so happy if a boomerang was an unlockable weapon if they did a Sniper update. Well, let me know your thoughts, concerns,, questions, comments, ideas, random crap you want to talk about, and I hope you enjoyed the story. Yes, Soldier is crazy...he doesn't even try to hide it. :P