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[notintehkitchen]

Mr. Hawk, will you please come back to the house? I found a solution to our problem.

I've sealed my gas mask on permanently so I don't have to talk to you again or be strange. I'll just be a normal Pyro again, you don't even have to think of me as a girl if you don't want to. Just think of me as a boy--or even better, an it. I'm fine with that, really. Just come back, please?

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[So intoxicated and entranced by every other sensation filling him, Sniper hadn't even noticed the mirror; however, he felt the shift in her body, a change beneath his fingers.

He cracked his eyes open, glancing to her, his lips still at her neck.]

What?

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[When he stopped, she immediately thought she had done something wrong. Did it not seem she enjoyed his touch?]

There's nothing wrong.

[Just can't you see my panties? If only she had the guts to ask.]

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[His mind having been so focused on one thing, it wasn't fully prepared for when it was flooded with the dozen things that could have been bothering her at that moment, everything from not liking his performance to changing her mind about what they were doing. It had been a long time since he'd done anything even vaguely resembling intimacy, and he was well aware his own inexperience showed. Or perhaps it was as simple as the floor was uncomfortable- his own knee was starting to feel it as his mind was pulled from its lust-driven stupor.

One thought made itself clear: he did not want to stop. He pulled her tighter against him for a moment, breathing her in to settle his concerns. The smell of her flooding his mind flushed out his other thoughts, leaving him thinking of her and only her. He brought his lips to her ear.]

The bed. [His breath rattled in him as he took more of her in, pressing his face to her neck.] Get on the bed.

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[His voice brought chills to her body as it rattled in her ears. The commanding tone of it, the low deep voice that resounded over and over again in her head. Sniper's voice was incredibly overpowering to her.

As she was nuzzled against the back of her neck, her hairs stood on edge from the scruffy tickles.

At that moment something in her broke, it was all too much.

Reaching for his hand, Pyro stood up and immediately began to bring him with her to the large bed that she had slept with him on numerous occasions. Sitting down on the edge, her free hand immediately went for the hem of her skirt to pull up and off her frame. Throwing it to the ground, she leaned back to give him a good view of her body. Up top there might of not been much to ogle, but Pyro had a rather full lower half. Thick thighs pressed together while her large hips wiggled back and forth in anticipation. No one had seen her whole body that was marked with burn scars.]

Alan. I want you, all of you.

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[Led to the bedside without a word, Sniper watched hungrily as she removed her dress, his eyes taking in her every feature, every curve of her bare skin before him. Her legs were enough of a temptation alone; something he hadn't expected to be so tantalizing were the scars that marked her, each telling its own part in how she became the woman before him. His fingertips tingled as he thought of running his hands along them, learning each for himself as he traveled them.

All reservations he'd had were tossed aside in that moment as he turned her words over in his head. The chase had ended, and he had the prey he'd sought- he was not about to turn back now, not when she reciprocated his advances. He whispered her true name as another ache coursed through him, pushing him to take control, to take what he wanted in life. And at that moment, all he wanted was her.

His breaths came faster as he licked his lips, a ravenous grin spreading across him as lust and greed mingled in him. Off went the sling and hooded shirt, his boots kicked from his feet- they were all he managed to remove before he joined her on the bed, lying atop her. His lips found her neck again, but quickly started traveling down her body as his hand slipped under her bra.]

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[At a moment that should of been reserved just for the two of them, the worst possible circumstance occurred.

The kids interrupted. Kids meaning Jell-O and Teriyaki. With the door opening up and hitting the wall, in barged Teriyaki yapping away at the man and woman who were locked on to each other and saw nothing else. Being broken out of her state of mind, Pyro turned her head on the bed and stared at Jell-O riding her new puppy dog and squeaking along in unison with him.

Her first reaction was to scream and push Sniper away. Kids couldn't watch them doing THAT.]

No! Don't look!

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[Enraptured, Sniper hardly noticed the door open, the yapping and squeaking barely pulling his attention from the woman beneath him. It wasn't until she screamed and he was shoved off her that he was snapped from his trance. The force pushed him backward, off the bed and onto his feet. Stepping on his wounded leg on reflex to keep himself upright resulted in an opposite reaction: he gave a sharp groan as he collapsed, his knee in absolute agony that was far more noticeable now that he didn't have every one of his senses focused on her.

He hit the floor heavily- it was all he could do to not land on his elbow, as well. Teriyaki bounded over to him, licking his face; in his attempt to shut out the pain, Sniper couldn't even manage to shoo the dog away, his breath lodged in his throat somewhere.]

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[Watching in horror as Sniper fell off the bed and attempted get back up all happened in slow motion for her. Pyro gasped before jumping off the bed in nothing but her bra and panties to his side. When she got near him, she crouched down and placed both hands against his shoulders. She felt compelled to shake him but she resisted the urge knowing how fragile his condition was.

Ignoring the pets who began to place furry little paws and sticky tentacles against her thighs in order to try to get her attention, there was nothing else that mattered to her other than his well-being at that very moment. If he was hurt, it was her fault for reacting the way she did. She didn't want to hurt him.

Worrying over the possibility, unknowingly to herself; tears began to form in the corner of her eyes as concern showed over her face.]

Oh God! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Are you alright!?

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[He choked back pain, his leg shaking as it throbbed- God, that had hurt. He wanted to cut back angrily for not only having been shoved to the floor, but for the animals interrupting the moment, for her not shutting the door, for anything that would allow him to vent his irritation; however, as he shot a look to her and saw tears in her eyes, he found himself somehow unable to do it.

His expression softened instantly. He didn't want to see her upset, and he couldn't quite put his finger on the reason why. Probably because the mood was still on his mind, he'd later tell himself. Or that he didn't want to deal with someone who was crying when his leg was aching. That had to be why. There was no other reason.

A gasp finally escaped him, as though he suddenly remembered how to breathe.]

Fine. I'm fine.

[His insistence came through breaths, each slow and deliberate as he tried to mask how much he hurt right then. All the walking he'd done that day, combined with the heat of the moment only seconds before, left him drained and in worse condition than he cared to admit. He pushed off from the floor, trying to get back to his feet, but ended up remaining where he was, another sharp intake accompanying his fail effort.]

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[As the tears fell down her cheeks, a hand came in contact with the hot drops in confusion. Pulling away from them, she brought her hand into view and stared at the tears.

Why was she crying? She had seen Sniper die hundreds of times before. All that had happened here was he had gotten a little hurt and now she was breaking down completely. Was she so detached from her own world now that she was beginning to realize what the cost was for hurting your body? Wounds didn't heal within seconds due to a Medigun, a rocket to the body would leave you in pieces and her flamethrower would forever melt the skin off anyone she used it against.

Here, without respawn and a Medic they were like anyone else.]

I remember now. Any type of pain we receive it won't go away so easily. Even if I baby you... somehow, I could still end up hurting you.

[Like she had now. There was no explaining how bad she felt. It was more then because Sniper was merely a comrade to her. The feelings she had now were entirely something else.]

I shouldn't of done that and yet I couldn't stop myself. I'm so ashamed. I don't want to hurt Mr. Hawk.

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[He wheezed through his teeth, pushing himself off the floor, deciding that making it to the bed was his best option. While it would have been easiest to just ask Pyro to help him up, his stubbornness won out at that moment, temper still flared from the intrusion.

He glanced at her again, uttering another assurance that he was fine— he cut himself off, studying her face for a second before turning away. Why was she crying? Sure, it hurt like hell, but it wasn't as though she'd never seen him hurt before. On his first day, she'd been the one to cut him from a tree, after all. She'd had no problem throwing him over her shoulder to drag him to a clothing store. She'd kidnapped him from a hospital room against his expressed wishes.

She didn't do that anymore, however. She carried him carefully, aware of his condition. She glued herself into her suit, thinking it would bring him back to the base. She cried for knocking him to the floor accidentally, and as awkward as the scenario was made by her tears, he understood why. She didn't want to lose him.

His eyes returned to her. It was attachment. He saw it in her, and felt it growing in himself in spite of his obstinate denial. It had formed there without his knowing, threads between them intertwining with every moment they shared; its appearance unnerved him the more he came to terms with it. Accepting it and adapting to it was the key— there was no going back, no erasing what they'd done and what they'd shared— but that didn't mean it'd be easy.

The hardest part was knowing he had no other choice. He could deny it all he wanted, but he ultimately did want Pyro around him, at least in some physical sense. The touch of her skin against his was maddening, the smell of her absolutely intoxicating. It was just some carnal urge he'd ignored too long, he told himself. Once the itch was scratched, that'd be it. It wasn't anything deeper than that.

He caught himself denying that attachment again, but it was apparent it was there as he eyed her tear-streaked face. He turned from her again, feeling his stubbornness subside.]

Ya don't gotta cry about it. I told you I'm fine. Just... help me get on the bed.

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[It could be a godsend that Pyro couldn't read minds. If she knew all of that, she might question what it is was they both felt for each other.]

Alright. I'll be very gentle, I promise.

[Taking him into to her arms, the woman made it look as easy as pie when it came to lifting someone. As her large muscular arms flexed and bulged against her skin, it was clear that the only way she had become so strong was carrying her flamethrower.

When they made it to the bed, Sniper would be laid softly onto the plush bed. Grabbing all the pillows. she began to fluff them out before placing them under his head.

Sitting down next to him with her hands clasped together, she turned to look at the two children who were now sleeping near the edge of her bed. Sighing, she closed her eyes.]

I'm not so good at any of this, am I? I seem to ruin everything.

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[He rubbed his knee as she set him on the bed, hissing through his teeth, trying to pay more attention to his own injury than the amount of care she was giving him. He reached to the nightstand, grabbing his bottle of pain medication and swallowing down two pills.

He leaned back, closing his eyes as well in an attempt to shut out the aching emanating from his knee.]

You're no worse than me. I'm the one who started this mess by runnin' off in the first place.

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But you came back and you were nice to me.

[Way more then nice. As she recalled his hands over her body, a shiver coursed through her. If it had been anyone else touching her, she was certain she wouldn't of burned like that.]

I did strange things.

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And I didn't? I'm a bloody professional. I really shouldn't—

[He lost his words somewhere in the middle. As much as he told himself he shouldn't have been pursuing this, the fact was that he was- at his deepest level, he both was and wanted to pursue it, wanted her. The mere thought of her against him drove him to her; he wanted her all to himself, his inclination for selfishness and greed shutting out that self-control and professionalism he was so proud of when she was nearby.

He told himself it was nothing more than a carnal urge, one he should have been able to ignore- should have, but couldn't, and that was the problem. In most situations, if he couldn't change something, he need to adapt to it; however, that involved doing some things he was less than proud of in this case. She was nearly half his age. A teammate. Why couldn't it have been anyone else?

But it wasn't. It was her he wanted so badly, and that was getting harder and harder to deny. He opened his eyes- they trailed to her immediately, then to the hands clasped in her lap. Temptation over came him: he reached for one of her hands, closing his eyes again as his fingers curled around hers.]

We've both been acting strange. S'not just you.

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[When Sniper went for her hand, she looked down at the fingers curling around it. There weren't many people who were willing to touch her for the sake of being kind. As the thought of that lingered in her mind, she realized that Sniper was much kinder then he lead on.]

... Hey. My body is really disgusting to look at with all the scars I have and I certainly don't look like any of those pin-up girls. I've been wondering what it is that you find desirable in me.

[It was hard to think it was psychical attraction to her. What was there to stare at?]

I'm not much to look at. Usually when people see me they go running in the opposite direction.

...

Do you see why I'm confused and feel strange?

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[Sniper felt himself burn again as he tried to find an answer for her. He could put together what he found attractive physically easily enough, but thinking of what drew him to her in other ways required him admitting certain things.

What he was doing already breached his personal code. He could feel himself attached to her more than he knew he ought to be: he idly wondered what she was doing at times, looked for her each night before they climbed into bed, had an inkling that felt suspiciously like concern when he thought of her being hurt. It had gotten to the point where he not only didn't mind the fact that they slept together in in a shared bed, but actually looked forward to it at times.

That was a point where shame hit him. He was the one who perverted it, wanting there to be something other than the innocent act between them. It wasn't just that though. His thoughts didn't stop at intimacy. He wanted more than that, even if he couldn't fully grasp what more it was he wanted from her. Not yet.

He answered finally as he gave her hand a squeeze, knowing he had to say something, even if the truth wasn't clear.]

I don't rightly know, exactly. But—

[He sighed, eyes still closed.]

But I wouldn't change you to be more like those girls. I, um. Rather prefer you stay how you are now.

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I never thought burn scars could be cute.

[That was the only way she could take his response. It must of been an implication to the way her physical appearance had been heavily destroyed. As she thought on the scars, she recalled the ones Sniper carried on his back from his several backstabs from the BLU Spy.

It hit her.]

Everyone likes different things. Really different things. I always thought there was only one standard of feminine beauty, and that was my mother.

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Right. I'm not exactly the ideal Aussie to some, either.

[Thankful she seemed to understand— he didn't want to have to clarify what he thought any more than he already had, as he wasn't sure of the entire picture himself— Sniper gave her hand another squeeze and a light tug in his direction, hoping she'd lie down beside him.]

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No one thinks Saxton Hale is attractive outside of Australia if that is what you're getting at.

[Pyro got the message and proceeded to lay down on her side of the bed. Realizing the sudden chill in the air, she looked down and remembered just how unclothed she had become after that incident.

Attempting to remain calm, Pyro shoved her free arm around her chest and looked up at the ceiling.]

There's a difference between being manly and being horrifying.

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That's... reassuring, actually.

[He could feel himself caving to exhaustion: the amount of walking he'd done with his injured frame, combined with the events of the last couple of hours, had left him completely worn; it was difficult to open his eyes and keep them that way for long.

He glanced at her beside him before closing them again. It was evident she was cold- he was as well, his shirt having been abandoned on the floor. He slipped his arm around her, pulling her to him, her bare skin against his warming him instantly.

He couldn't have her, shouldn't have her... but with what little control he still had, he was determined to satisfy that itch in some way. Just having her beside him would have to be enough.

And as strange at it seemed to him, he found it was. It was a physical desire, he told himself. Nothing more. Perhaps he didn't want her as badly as he'd thought in the heat of the moment- that, or she satisfied something else in him just by being there. She calmed his nerves, her frame familiar, even if unclothed this time. It wasn't a major change in their routine, but it was enough to make him flush again.

He pulled her to him tighter, drowsiness in his voice.]

I'm just glad you don't have a moustache.

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You needn't worry how you look. You're fine just the way you are. I couldn't mistake you for anything but Australian. I promise.

[As she got pulled closer, she found herself inwardly becoming very giddy at the affection he was showing her so openly. Completely forgetting about hiding her bra, Pyro placed a hand on top of his head and began to stroke his hair gently with her fingertips.]

I was wrong when I say Sniper is cute.

[Though she still believed it, she decided to rephrase her previous decision of his looks to something more masculine.]

Sniper is very handsome. There's nothing you should feel envious of in this world. You have an accent most girls would melt hearing and you can be very kind when you open yourself up. I'm sure plenty of women like you.

Japanese people don't have much body or facial hair, that goes double for the women. I must admit, I am very confused by what your country finds attractive in a women. A moustache only belongs on men.

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[So content with that moment— the feeling of her against him, her hand in his hair— Sniper didn't protest as she called him that word; instead, he smiled as her fingertips brushed through his hair, the act having grown on him in the nights they'd shared together to the point where he leaned into her hand, aching for more attention from her.

Not that she didn't give him more than he'd gotten from anyone in his life, save for maybe his parents. He was fine being left alone most of the time, but when it came to her, it seemed he couldn't get enough. What it was about her that appealed to his personal greed, he couldn't decide; however, he knew it was there, always wanting more and more of her and from her.]

I've never been much for dealing with people, to be honest. That sort of behavior gets in the way of the job. S'just easier to be alone sometimes.

[He said one thing, but his body betrayed him; he pulled her to him, closing the small gap between them as he buried his face into her shoulder.]

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[Reaching for the covers, Pyro pulled them over the two despite already having a pair of rosy red cheeks. All this unexpected cuddling was something she should of been doing, not Sniper. She wouldn't complain though, the idea that Sniper was coming out of his shell and expressing himself more openly was a good one.

Squirming slightly as his face came into contact with her bare shoulder, she laughed]

Aah, that tickles! You're too scruffy!

[Even if she complained, she loved it. She had always adored men with facial hair. Not the Saxton hale type, but the way Sniper had his was nice.]

It comes with the nature of your job, I suppose. You're holed up most of the time unlike the rest of us.

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[Even as she squirmed, he didn't let her go, unable to give up that contentment he'd found in having her near. Her words only made him want to keep a hold of her even more, a fear that she'd disappear if he released her rising in him. It was that beast that always came coupled with attachment; it was the primary reason he kept himself from it.

Well, usually kept himself from it. It was harder to control in Paradise where he no longer had the job as a viable leash, where he'd already lost so much that it pushed him to clinging desperately to what he still had. He had to adapt, but he was a stubborn thing, only changing if absolutely necessary. He liked who he was, and was well-set in his ways.

And yet, as he laid there with his arm around her, the scent of her skin captivating his senses, the feeling of that closeness relaxing him, he couldn't help but think of how things could be better.]

Right. Like you bein' in your suit.