Thunder boomed outside the BLU's base, followed shortly by a flash of lightning.
It was a storm, and a big one too. Seeing as which, a ceasefire was called. Some of the men complained (mainly Soldier) but there was nothing they could do except wait it out.
The Engineer suggested they all go out but the rain made the roads too slippery and everything was closed due to the storm anyway.
Without the screams of pains and exploding body parts everywhere everything was just...boring.
The only thing that filled the empty silence of the base was the roaring claps of thunder and the pattering of the rain as it hit the roof and windows.
It was odd that the base was silent, considering it was full of grown and insane men, but everyone needs a little wind-down time.
Everyone except Soldier...
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Wind howled outside of Jane's window he sat on the edge of his bed (which he deemed "too soft"). He wore nothing but a white tank top and usual pants, his helmet placed in the spot next to him.
In his lap lay a disassembled shotgun and in his hand he held a dirty rag. He carefully took each segment of the gun and polished them, making sure to get in between every crack and crevice. He even took out the time the clean the bullets.
After reassembling and loading the now clean gun, he pondered.
He could just sit here and polish the rest of his guns (god knows he has a whole artillery of those that need a good shinning) but that was boring. So instead of doing that he decided to walk around the base, maybe busy himself a little.
And nothing could possibly go wrong.
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After putting his helmet and jacket on, he strolled out of his quarters and into the hallway.
He could still hear the faint pattering of rain, but nothing else. Wondering where the rest of the team was he decided to look around.
While walking heard clanking pots and pans and figured there must've been someone in the kitchen. Peeking in the doorway he found he was right.
"Hello!", he called as he walked.
"G'day, mate.", Sniper called from where was sitting at the table. In one hand he held a coffee mug and the other flipped the page of the newspaper he was currently reading. He quietly sipped at the plain black brew, feeling quite cozy. If it wasn't for the storm he'd be in he camper. He was still a little wet from walk to the base.
Soldier nodded to him, respecting his choice in coffee. Who needs all that sugary cream junk in their coffee anyway? Sissies, that's who.
A few seats away from the sharpshooter sat the Demoman who was...unconscious. He was face down on the table with drool pooling out of his mouth. Empty bottles of whiskey surrounded him and he held an unopened bottle in his hand. Not much of a surprise.
"He's been like that since I got in here. Snorin' up a storm, that one. Pun intended.", the Aussie said.
"Typical Tavish.", the Soldier replied, shaking his head.
The clanking of pans directed Jane's attention towards the stove and other kitchen appliances were, where the Pyro happened to be. There was a sweet scent in the air, as if something was baking, which it probably. Soldier walked over, curious of what the Pyromaniac was up to.
"What are you doing?", the man inquired, the sweet scent more apparent now that he was closer to the stove.
"Hudda hudda hmm hm!", came their muffled reply. Opening the oven, Jane could see they were making sweet potato pie, but with closer inspection he could see it wasn't even close to being done! In fact it still looked a bit unbaked. He checked the stove temperature. 425°F. Pathetic.
"Well here's your problem!", Jane said, pointing towards the tiny screen on the oven which displayed the temperature, "Your temperature's all wrong!"
Pyro turned towards them and cocked their head quizzically at the man. "Hmm hudda hudda hm?"
"Here, let me help you!", Soldier enthused, reaching for the turn dial.
Suddenly, the pyromaniac's head jerked up and they grabbed Jane's wrist. "Hudda! Hm hudda hmm hm!!", they said in a panicked tone, shaking their head frantically. Yet Soldier couldn't take a hint.
"Don't worry! I know what I'm doing, I'm American after all!", he blindly reassured. With a grin he yanked his hand out of Pyro's grasp and sharply turned the dial, setting it to 1000°F.
"There! Now it should cook much faster!", the soldier said, a proud smirk on his face.
Unfortunately for the Soldier, the pie, instead of cooking, burst into flames and the oven soon followed. Dark smoke began to rise and the smoke alarm blared noisily.
"Oi, what's with the the- BLOODY HELL!", Sniper yelped, falling out of his chair. Jumping to his feet the sharpshooter stared at the scene before him with wide eyes. "What happened?!"
"He did it!", Soldier said, pointing an accusing finger at the Pyro.
"Hudda hm hmm!!", came the pyromaniac's angry reply, peeved from the false accusation.
"The whole base'll be up in flames!", Sniper cried.
Soldier frantically whipped his head around looking for something- anything! Then his gaze fell to the Demoman who (not surprisingly) was still unconscious and in his grip was a bottle of Scotch.
"Don't worry, I got this!", Jane announced. He hurried over to the Demo and snatched the bottle of of his grip, only earning a low snore from the man.
Running back over to the stove, he unscrewed the top, and pour its contents into the flames.
"WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU, YA-"
But, before Sniper could finish his sentence, like magic, fire mysteriously disappeared in a blink of an eye, leaving only smoke and ash behind.
"Er...wot?", Mick blinked. The Pyro only shrugged.
"See! I told you! My American superiority has saved us all!", Soldier grinned.
Unfortunately for them, just as soon as it had disappeared, the flames reappeared with a fwoosh, now a whole half of the kitchen on fire.
"Uh, nevermind."
The Pyro screamed, flailing their arms in the in the air as they ran around in circles, clearly panicked.
Sniper frantically looked around until he spotted it: a fire extinguisher.
"Bingo."
He ran over and snatched it off the wall, aimed the nozzle towards the flames, and sprayed it contents all around, managing to get some on himself and the Pyro.
Seeing as the two were clearly busy at the moment, Soldier decided to leave while he could before he got a bullet to the head. And boy, those were painful.
With that thought in mind, the Soldier tiptoed out of the kitchen. "Must've been something wrong with that pie.", he concluded.
Now out of the kitchen, he once again walked the halls of the base. Rain still poured down on the base, but not as hard as before. The hall was dead silent with the exception of the distant screaming coming from the kitchen, so everyone else was either in their quarters or off off doing something.
"Huh, I wondered what the Spy's up to."
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Ok so this took way longer than it should've
But i did it so yayyy
I kinda feel like this is a bit rushed so if there's something that doesn't make sense or like a grammatical error the please tell me
Also there's probably gonna be a bit of shipping in this (of course there's gonna shipping who am i kidding) so that's a thing
I've also been working other stuff too so there's more on the way😝
