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"Sniper!" came a muffled call from seemingly nowhere, and directly from behind the Australian's back.
"Jesus!" the Australian cried, jumping halfway out of his skin. Like a breeze across the desert, warm and quiet, Pyro had rolled up behind Sniper, blowing him out of his seat on an old camping stool with the force of his sudden appearance. Landing in a heap on the desert dust, the lanky gunman clutched the rifle he'd been cleaning like a lifeline, eyes wide, looking up into the empty, black lenses of the firebug's gas mask.
Propensity for terrifying stealth aside, Pyro had a way of startling Sniper that had never quite faded, even long after the team had gotten to know the pyromaniac and learned that they had nothing to fear from him. It shamed him a bit, considering the new dynamic their interactions had taken on ever since he had begun a relationship with Pyro's father figure, Engineer. Now, the masked mercenary had taken to him almost as closely as the Texan, seeing him as his other parent, one of two fathers. It was a domestic situation altogether unforeseen, certainly not something the Australian had expected upon beginning his flirtations with Engineer, but in retrospect, it was pretty plain to see that dating a 'single father' would have these sorts of complications.
"Are you okay?" Pyro asked, extending a gloved hand to the taller man. Taking hold, he helped tug Sniper to his feet, and brushed at his pants for him. "I'm sorry."
"No worries, Pyro," Sniper assured him warmly, clapping a hand onto the smaller mercenary's shoulder. "What's got you sneakin' up on me like you been takin' lessons from Spy?"
Pyro bounced on the balls of his feet a little, pleased at the comparison, at his small accomplishment. Almost forgetting himself, he patted his suit down quickly, looking for something. Finally, he withdrew a flier from the pouch at his hip, half-crumpled, half-folded, and tried to smooth it out on his own chest, finally giving up and handing the mess to the tall man before him.
"What's this?" the assassin mumbled, straightening out the flier and holding it up to read. "Teufort Community Fair, eh? This weekend. Games, live music, food, aha! Rides!" He lowered the page to see Pyro's hands clasped together in front of the filters of his mask, the picture of faceless eagerness and excitement.
"And not just kiddie rides! Rides I can fit on!" the firebug nearly squealed, his muffled voice growing more difficult to understand in the face of his giddiness, making Sniper strain to follow him. "Can we go tonight, Sniper? Please?"
"I dunno," the gunman drawled, peering back down at the flier. Certainly they had to plans for the night that couldn't be put off, but he wasn't about to take Pyro to the fair alone. That was begging for trouble. "'ave you asked Truckie yet?"
Pyro stopped bouncing, digging his toe into the dirt. "Nooo, not yet. I figured since you probably didn't have as much to do..."
"Look, if Truckie says it's okay, then sure. 'e calls the shots, you know that."
"Aww, do I have to?"
"Pyro."
"Alright," the firebug sighed, his whole body slumping forward as he snatched the flier from Sniper's hands. "But if he says yes we can go, right?"
"'course!"
Black lenses stayed trained on the lanky gunman for a few moments, appraising him, burning in the exact severity of the trust now laid upon his shoulders. Then, turning on his heel, Pyro trundled off toward the base, intent on finding Engineer.
Watching him go, Sniper scratched at the back of his head and smiled. A little family outing sounded rather nice, really.
*
"Engie Engie Engie Engie Engie Engiengiengiengiengie!" Pyro rambled, skidding around the corner and rushing through the open door of Engineer's workshop.
Looking up from his drafting, Engineer barely had time to drop his pencil before Pyro blindsided him out of his chair, tackling him to the ground in an aggressive hug. Landing with a yelp in a heap, he stared, gaping, up at the taller mercenary now perched on his belly, babbling incoherently through the filters of his gas mask, holding a piece of paper in one hand. Wheezing in a breath, he held up his hands, waving them to try and ward off Pyro's boundless energy. "Pyro, Pyro! Calm down, son! What's goin' on?"
Taking a deep, heavy breath through his mask, Pyro pointed to the flier in his hand. "Engie, there's a fair going on this weekend in Teufort and it starts tonight and there's gonna be food and games and rides AND A PONY and can we go please please please?"
Assaulted with information, Engineer took a moment to collect himself before asking, flatly, "Have you asked Sniper?"
Pyro sank, deflated, to the floor, rolling off of Engineer and flopping onto his bottom. "Yes. He said to come ask you."
"And did he say anything else?" Engineer asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up. His partner had made the ultimate dad-play, passing Pyro off on him.
"He said we could go if you said yes," Pyro perked up, hopefully.
Sitting up, the Texan scratched at his chin in thought, hemming and hawing audibly in sweeping, infuriatingly vast spans of thought. He smirked sidelong at Pyro as the firebug grew visibly antsy in waiting for his answer. Finally, after eons of deliberation, he nodded quietly. "Yeah, sounds like fun."
"Really?!" Pyro asked, incredulous.
"Sure, Pyro. But you better be on yer best behaviour, alright?"
"Yessir!" the firebug replied, hopping to his feet. "Can we go right now?"
"I just have to finish up here, shouldn't be too long. Go let Sniper know."
"Thank you!" Pyro crowed, hugging Engineer before bounding out of the room in a fit of glee.
Shaking his head, Engineer hefted himself to his feet, brushing himself off. He hoped he wouldn't regret the decision.
*
Stepping through the fair gates, Engineer and Sniper kept a firm hold on Pyro's shoulders, feeling him nearly vibrating with excitement beneath their hands. Lights shone brightly in the dusk all around them, music and the smell of fried foods intoxicating in its smothering, all-encompassing ambiance. Pyro didn't seem to know which direction he wanted to go first.
“Where do you wanna start, Pyro?” Engineer asked, warmly. So long as he and Sniper kept close by and made sure they had their eyes on him, the night should, in theory, proceed smoothly with as little property damage as possible. He didn't need a pack of angry carnies chasing them out of another fair.
“Um, I-- I dunno, it's all-- FOOD!” He decided, catching sight of a yellow-lit trailer stinking of onions and oil. Bloomin' onions, perfect. “Can we get food? I'm starving!” Pyro pleaded, turning his gaze up to Sniper, the lenses of his mask sparkling with yellows, purples, and blues of rides and food stands.
“Oh yeah? Pleasure to meet you, Starvin'. I'm Mundy,” Sniper quipped, extending a hand to shake. A broad, self-satisfied grin crossed his sharp teeth.
Pyro deflated, turning to stare at him with as blank an expression as a gas mask could muster. His shoulders slumped; his knees buckled a little. He looked to Engineer as if to beg for help.
Engineer chuckled, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “You are the worst, Darlin'.”
“What? I thought it was clever.”
“You're so embarrassing,” Pyro sighed, turning back to look at the fair. “Come on, let's eat 'til we're sick and then ride all of the rides!”
“Sounds like you're liable to get sick for real like that,” Engineer warned. “Remember last time you threw up with your mask on?”
“'e did get a pretty good nickname out of it, though,” Sniper observed.
“Scout called me Chunks for a month,” came the firebug's sullen mumble. “Alright, just one onion, then all of the rides, then we pig out on popcorn and cotton candy and fries and candy apples and elephant ears?”
“Now that, I can get behind,” the Texan replied, straightening his stetson and smiling.
“Don't forget the pony rides,” Sniper reminded him, earning a squeak of excitement from Pyro as he tore off toward the onion trailer.
Engineer shot his lover a sidelong glance, chewing at the inside of his lip. “You had to remind him about the pony.”
“What? He wouldn't shut up about the bloody pony the whole ride 'ere!”
“He's gonna break that pony's back an' you know it. And then we're goin' to have to pay for a dead pony.”
“But we'll be in pony meat for weeks.” The bushman shot Engineer a grin as he strode off after Pyro.
“Has been a while since I fired up the grill,” the Texan mused, following after.