Author's Note: Fifth chapter in the Badlands Arc (technically). We're slowly returning back to status quo (mostly), so I promise not to drag things out for too long. This week on Snipes 'n' Shells: new characters, new developments, and the return of a certain someone...!
Back at the Teufort base, Duncan and Jane have been holding up the base in Vince's absence, with the others helping out whenever they can. Since they left, there have been an increase in new recruits for Builder's League United, including the missing members' current substitutes: Mr. Batteur, Amelia Rockman, and Minnie Orwell. The female novices, for their lack of experience, adapt surprisingly well to the pathos. Mr. Batteur, on the other hand...
“Is this how you do the 'Scouting' thing,” he asks as he swings the bat around with no abandon.
“Batterman, you—ow!—swing that thing at the other blokes there!”
“Oh.” He points the bat at a zaftig woman in nurse uniform. “Shall I purify this one here?”
“Don't aim that at Minnie! The red ones, dammit!” Mr. Batteur examines the people around him, and gives Duncan a puzzled look. “Huh. Colorblind, are ye? Well, just concentrate on getting into that building and retrieving the suitcase that's in there.” His expression changing, as if the gears in his head are finally turning properly, the substitute Scout turns to the rustic red building and runs in that direction. Once out of earshot, Duncan sighs in exasperation and takes a swig from his bottle.
Minnie glances at the Demoman and smirks. “New Scout giving you trouble?”
“He's a handful. I dunno how Vince can handle 'im.”
“Maybe he just knows how to get into his head. That Mr. Batteur is quite the character—and handsome, too!”
“Is men all you ever think about?” Leaning against the resupply locker is a tall, lanky woman with curly auburn hair tied back, and whose shirtsleeves sport a crosshairs insignia. “I don't know if you're aware, but we have a mission to do.” As she chews out the petite Medic, she reloads her rifle and raises it, inspecting the scope. “I'm heading out. Cover Duncan.”
“I know what I'm doing, Mia,” Minnie yells as the Sniper exits the locker room. Simmering down, she blushes and follows Duncan into the battlefield. After reinvigorating the Demoman past his usual limits, she switches over to Pasha, then Jane and Aiden, until her Medigun is absolutely brimming with energy. In a moment of sheer impulsiveness, she pushes the trigger, releasing the energy on her nearest target, Miller.
Though not a well-thought-out strategy by any means, the Engineer tries to take advantage of the temporary invincibility to protect his nest of machinery from the oncoming horde of Soldiers and Scouts. But once the effect wears off, their plan falters, as an enemy Spy—having taken advantage of the opportunity—saps the Sentry, breaking it to pieces, and stabs Minnie in the back before finishing off Miller. After respawning, Minnie tries to apologize to the Engineer, but receives the cold shoulder. Dismayed and filled with regret, she considers retiring early when the voice over the PA announces their verdict. “Victory!”
The men and women of BLU celebrate their first victory of the day with the grandest feast they can afford. The lounge room, a room normally reserved for meetings and group discussions, is transformed into a gathering place where the mercs can eat, drink, and be merry. Duncan, having had enough to drink, looks around, inspecting the behaviors of his coworkers. Minnie is making drunken advances towards Mr. Batteur, who appears not to be paying much attention. Pasha, normally a reserved man, is much livelier, chatting it up with an enraptured Amelia. Miller, neither the sociable sort nor very well-liked, keeps to himself and retires to his room early. But a slippery snake like him is low on the Scotsman's priority list compared to Jane, who's nowhere in sight.
He searches through the Soldier's usual hiding places—the gym, their room, the back of the barracks where the raccoons frolic—to no avail. He also checks the doctor's office and the cafeteria, with no luck. Desperate, he knocks on the door leading to the garage. “'Ey.”
The door opens, and Miller, cranky and goggles-free, answers. “What do yo want? I'm a li'l busy here.”
“Is Aiden with ye?”
“Haven't seen 'er since work today. Come t' think of it, I haven't seen that brat of yers in ages. Y'sure they're not eloping?”
“Janey would never—”
“Hey, you never know. Kids these days, always controlled by their loins. 'Following their hearts', they call it. But we all know the truth, don't we?” His gloved hand brushes against Duncan's chest, his blood red eyes and voice teeming with lust. “Y'know, if I was a youngster havin' my first time, I'd do it in the showers. Small room, lots of privacy, water glistening on soft skin...”
His advances are interrupted by the Demoman's hand grasping his wrist tightly, threatening to crush it. “Jane is not that kind of boy, an' he never will be.”
Sultry eyes turning cold, the Engineer smirks and slaps his hand away from him. “Suit yerself.”
Despite his loathing for Miller, Duncan admits he had not once searched through the locker room. He looks the locker rooms up and down, then sniffs the air. The salty scent of the young Soldier's sweat still lingers, and grows stronger as he starts heading towards the shower room. That's when he starts hearing voices.
“Janey, I can't!”
“Relax, Aiden. It'll be alright. Here, let me start.” The shower turns on, and footsteps step into the forming puddle on the floor. “Now you go.”
“But I'm scared.”
“There's no need to be scared. Think of it as a game. Lemme help.”
“J-Janey! No! Stop it!”
Hearing Aiden's voice awakens a protective instinct within Duncan, and he barges into the room, making a mad dash towards the source. But when he opens the shower curtain, his eye widens, as he finds Jane and Aiden, soaked and fully clothed, in the midst of an embrace. Aiden, with her curling red hair sticking to her skin and clothes and green eyes, large and droopy, resembles a frightened, wet puppy clinging for dear life.
He dries them off and redresses them, then sends them to his room, where he gives them the scolding of a lifetime. “You two should be ashamed of yerselves,” Duncan barks as he circles back and forth. “'Specially you, Janey. Forcin' a girl into doin'... whatever the hell it is you were doin'.”
“You don't get it! I was trying to help Aiden—”
“Don't speak unless given permission. Did you not learn anything at yer snooty li'l academy? 'Cause apparently, they don't teach your folk basic courtesy.” Softening his tone, he turns to Aiden. “You okay, lassie?” The redhead nods, and he smiles. “Good. If Janey does anythin' ye don't wanna do, you have my permission to whoop his ass into shape. Run along now.” He hands her a small towel to dry her hair with and returns his attention to Jane. “That Aiden lass, do you love her?”
“Yes. Very much.”
“With all yer heart?”
“All of it, sir.”
“Then treat 'er with respect. Take it from me, there's nothin' worse to a woman than a broken heart. Give her time to recover, then apologize to 'er. 'Cause if ye don't, may the gods help ye.”
After leaving Jane to his business, Duncan leaves the barracks and drives over to the bar. One of the workers, another Demoman, tosses an apron at him and clocks out for the night. His shift starts off peacefully, with few customers causing any sort of ruckus, but quickly takes a nosedive midway through. And it's all because of her.
She saunters through the doors, her lovely hips swaying as her luscious breasts protrude from her oversized coat, causing many of the men present to drop their jaws and swoon and whistle. The woman turns and glares at the catcalling boars in the audience, shutting them up for the time being. As she takes her seat on the bar stool, her immense bust presses against the countertop without any effort from her part. Her husky voice, heavily layered with a traditional highlander's accent, says bluntly, “Hit me up, barkeep. Gimme a scotch an' everything on yer menu.”
Preoccupied with refilling a customer's drink, Duncan replies, “I don't got much in regards to food, but we got plenty of scotch fer...” The moment he turns around, he drops his jaw and almost drops the mug in his hands. The Scottish lass is a sight to behold, not only for her strong, buxom figure and umber skin, but for all her exotic features, from her curly pink hair to her pointed ears and red eyes. These traits—he recognizes instantly—are reminiscent of one whose body had been tainted by magic.
As he hands her a shot glass, her ears perk up. “Hey. Don't I know you from somewhere?”
He glances at her face, then turns away, his heart skipping a beat. “You must be mistaken. In all my years of spottin' unicorns an' slayin' dragons, I ain't never seen such a rare creature.”
“So pretty women are unicorns now?” She laughs and leans forward. “But then, you've always had unusual interests, Duncan.”
He fumbles to keep the scotch bottle intact as he swivels in her direction. “C-C-Ceci? Is that really you? Praise the gods, it's you!”
“The one and only. I thought I lost myself in that mess way back when. But that's all in the past. Anywho, how've you been, Dun?”
“Overworked an' underpaid. But otherwise, just fine. Question is, why're you here?”
As he pours her some drink and offers a bowl of mini-pretzels, Ceci explains. “Oh, funny story. See, I was just mindin' my own business one day, when some fat ol' man in white walked up to me and gave me a job. Said his boss noticed my talents or something, an' wanted me to come to this rinky-dink town in the 'States. Though I dunno what talents he's really talkin' about, unless you count blowin' up stuff as one.”
“Funny. I was hired for the same exact reason. Looks like we'll be workin' together.” Lucky me, workin' with my ol' mate. “Er, have ye got any blue clothes on you? It's key part of the uniform.”
“Huh? What're you talkin' about? The fat guy told me to wear red. Probably for the best; blue doesn't look good on me.”
“Waitaminute. What's the name of the company?”
“Reliable Excavations and Demolitions.”
“Dear gods,” the voice in his head yelps. “About that man, has he ever mentioned 'Builders League United'?”
“Oh, yeah. He said somethin' about them bein' our competition. Whatever; I don't care much 'bout that stuff.”
This is gonna get awkward. “I still got a couple of hours left in this shift, but if yer willing to wait, I suppose we can head out together, like ol' pals ought to.” Duncan smiles gently, feeling relaxed for the first time all day.
Glancing at the drunk, unsavory men around her, she replies, “Sure. It'd be nice to be around decent company for once.” She gulps down the rest of her scotch and munches on the pretzels while keeping to herself. With a figure like hers, she has to; if she so much as makes a motion, regardless of intention, some idiot will inevitably stride on over, under the delusion that his advances will guarantee easy access into her pants. She strips her jacket—Dear Goddess, how tight that thing was!—hoping her unabashed display of rippling muscles will repel at least half of the current population. A downside she has not intended, however, is how the freedom from its ill-fitting restraints have caused her gargantuan breasts to hang loosely over the counter, becoming an even bigger burden than before as they spill both her snack and (recently refilled) drink. Flustered, she stuffs herself into her coat and runs out without so much as an apology.
“I screwed up really badly back there,” Jane Doe mutters to himself as he walks past the street sign. More than two hours have passed since the incident from earlier, and he has yet to see Aiden. As much as he wants to tell her he's sorry, some part of him is unable to. Like an overgrown wisdom tooth, getting an apology out of him for anything requires some yanking. Clad in a light jacket, he stuffs his hands into his pockets, the chilled nightly wind nipping at his bare fingers. Down the road he continues, motivated by the idea of grabbing a sip while Duncan is still working the counter.
Suddenly, he is pushed aside by a large, powerful force. As he stumbles, he can see that what pushed him was indeed human, but none unlike he's ever seen before. Upon first impressions, he is reminded of Duncan or one of the other Demomen he's seen while on duty. But looking more closely, the figure is totally different: large, long-haired, and feminine. This Amazon standing before him does not possess the traits Jane prefers in a woman, but she has an aura that draws him in somehow.
The strange woman grabs him by the arm and carries him to his feet. “Sorry 'bout that. I'm in a bit of a rush. Hey, do you know where the RED building is?”
Still a bit dazed from the fall, he says, “Well, I know about a restaurant on Blitz Creek that—”
“Not a red building! The RED Building! Okay, um, well, ya know a guy named... Oh, what was his name? Oh, gods...!” She snaps her fingers repeatedly, as if trying to ignite a candle in her head. “Ah, yes. Dante!”
Jane snaps back at mention of the name. “Dante?”
“Yeah, Dante Alder-something. He's this fat, white guy with glasses an' a weird obsession with ribbons. I take it you know 'im?”
“Uh, yeah. Sort of. He's out of town for the weekend, but if you're looking for the forts, they're over that way, just past the outskirts.” He points in the direction opposite of where he was going up until now. “It's practically a big ol' barn; you can't miss it.”
“Barn? I wasn't expectin' to raise cattle or nothin'.”
“The way those fools arrange themselves, they might as well be. What business do you have with them, anyway?”
“Well, that Dante guy jus' walked up to me an' said, 'Guten tag, shön Fraulein! How vould you like to put your talents to good use?' Then he handed me this flyer an' left.” She slips a folded sheet from her pocket and unfurls it, revealing a propaganda poster-style advertisement that reads, 'NOW HIRING! JOIN RED TODAY.' “He's kind of a weirdo, but he seems nice enough.”
Jane wants to protest otherwise, but bites his tongue and changes the subject. “So, you got a name?”
“Cecilia Murray. Call me 'Ceci', if you'd like. What's yours, kid?”
“Jane Doe. And I'm twenty-six—not a kid.” Letting his roiling anger subside, he adds, “Since you're new here, I might as well help you there. I'm kind of heading back there, anyway.”
In response, Cecilia embraces the small young man, squeezing his face against her bosom as her strong arms threaten to crush his spine. “Oh, thank you, Janey! You're such a sweet li'l boy, arentcha?” He gives a muffled reply, and she sets him down, realizing the harm she's unintentionally doing. Though a bit miffed at the Scottish lady's habit of treating him like a child, he cannot help but admire her straightforward nature, thus why he offered to escort her to the bases. As they trek through the town, Ceci says, “So, do you work for RED, too? You seem to know an awful lot about them for a civilian.”
'Civilian.' Just hearing the word grates on his nerves. “As a matter of fact, no. I work at BLU.”
“BLU...? Oh, an old friend of mine mentioned something 'bout working there. Never expected to see Duncan, of all people.”
Jane stops and turns his head. “You know Duncan?” Having rarely heard much about his adoptive father's past life, this is a revelation.
“Of course! We were pals way back in the day. I take it you're his friend from work?”
Hesitating, he answers, “Actually, he's kind of my father.”
“Duncan's a dad?” She guffaws at the fact. “Aw, quit pullin' my leg! There's no chance in Hell he'd ever be a father. Not the way he philanders about—”
“It's true! He took me in as a kid—thirteen years ago.”
“Thirteen years...” She stops to ponder over the events that happened those many years ago. “Come to think of it, he really does seem more mature somehow. Maybe it's because we were just kids then, but comparing the Duncan I know to the one I saw earlier, it's almost like they're different people.” Or maybe I never knew a thing about him. “Hey, Janey, does he have a lover?”
“He's gone out with a few girls, and a couple of guys, too. But that was long before I came into the picture. I don't think he's been with anyone in years.”
Ceci sighs in relief. “I see.” She mouths a “thank you” to the gods above—which Janey might have caught, judging by the smile on his face.
Changing the subject, they chat about the sights and sounds around them as Jane points out each establishment and detail, until finally, they are outside of the city limits, where the fortresses are located. It saddens them both to part ways, but the guaranteed promise that they will meet again warms Cecilia's heart. Walking further, she enters the RED barracks, where she is greeted by a kindly blond woman with a face that can best be described as “orc-like”. The woman—“Milly”, she insists on being called—happily gives her a tour of the interior, concluding with the opening of Ceci's designated room. After unpacking the luggage (sent directly to the RED base from the train station), Ceci takes some nightclothes and starts heading for the showers.
Jane Doe is sifting through his underwear drawer when he hears a knocking on the door. He opens it and his eyes widen, as they make contact with the visitor's green irises. “Janey? Are you feeling better?”
He attempts to stammer a reply, but his body isn't willing to cooperate, slamming the door and turning away from it. No more than a second later, Aiden barges in. “What the hell was that for? You're not still mad at me, are you? I just dropped by to apologize for being a coward, yet when you're confronted directly, you run away. Who's the real coward here?” Simmering down, she reaches for the knob. “I'll start talking to you again when you're ready to grow up.” With a loud slam, Jane is left to his business of wallowing in his pity.
The moment Duncan has returned early from his shift, he dials the number for the BLU Badlands base. He receives the team's leader, Ellen, on the other end, and he chats with her, checking up on the four members that—admittedly—he misses. According to her input, the three rookies have been adapting amazingly to their new situations and settings, but Vince—while still as competent as ever—has been acting more than a touch aggressive. Latter issue aside, he grins, proud of his allies in learning their way around. But Mortimer, he has doubts about. Besides from his lack of work experience, he also lacks awareness of the world around him; from his perspective, all people are good, or have the potential. Without proper guidance, who knows what will happen to the young Sniper? Even with Ellen's promise, there's no telling whether he can be protected at all, especially with Dante hot on his trail.
Hearing the abrupt dial-tone from her end, he slams the phone on the receiver and retires to his room. Sleeping in the bottom bunk is Janey, curled up under the blankets. Duncan smiles and gently lifts the sheet, when his smile turns upside down. No hint of his blond hair, nor of his small body. Instead, there lies a mess of clothes and props, cleverly bundled to vaguely resemble his form when covered up. With a handful of the blanket held inches away from his nostrils, he takes a deep sniff, then drops it and hits the ground running.
Meanwhile, Jane, done with his wallowing, heads out of the barracks to the roofs. His stomach fills with butterflies as he spots Aiden at the edge of the roof, her long hair flowing in the wind. Approaching her, his voice shakes as he calls out her name. She glances, then turns away. With a sigh, he says, “I know I messed up badly. I tried to make you do something you didn't want to, and then I blew you off like that. That was really immature of me. But I'm ready to grow up now.”
Aiden does not say anything. She stands and starts walking up to him. Her pace picks up, and stops as she raises her hand to slap him—and doesn't. “You idiot,” she says as she raises his head, then leans over to kiss him on the lips. “You brave, handsome little idiot. You haven't changed one bit.”
Jane blushes, and they giggle like schoolchildren before falling into an awkward silence. He tries to say something worthwhile, but blurts out, “This isn't right. Something's missing. Something important.”
The Pyro turns solemn. “You're right. As much as I hate to say it, it doesn't feel right without Ally here.” Jane nods, accepting her comment without asking for context. “But the answer's nearby—I know it! We'll find Ally, and things can go back the way we used to. You'll get your memories back, and I'll...” She stops short, realizing the uncertainty of her future.
“You'll marry me?”
Hesitant, Aiden whispers, “Yes.”
Hiding in the shadows, just out of the younger mercs' line of sight, is Duncan, who overheard only the last part of the conversation. Stripped of most of its context, all he can understand is the marriage proposal. Ally—a name he only heard once, while a thirteen-year-old Janey was talking in his sleep. And now it's popped up again, this time with far more significance. Whoever this “Ally” character is, they're the key to unlocking Jane's past—and possibly more. But he has nothing to go on, save for Aiden's statement. Time to dig a little deeper.
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