Till Death Do Us Part

Leon winced slightly, noting that the Scout was rather less energetic than he was before. Dammit- Leon had a tendency to do that. He didn't mean to say some things the way he did, it just came out that way. He'd hurt the kid's feelings, something he hadn't meant to do. He didn't know how to go about apologizing either without making matters worse. The Sniper had crappy social skills and it aggravated him because he didn't know how to fix them or how to get better at communicating without insulting or hurting people. It made him want to rip his hair out.
But now the Scout had tossed up a form of redemption, in his eyes, and he was going to take it. He wanted to make it up to Dale in some way, tell him without actually telling him that he was a good kid and they just needed him fighting on the front lines, nothing personal. The kid was growing on him, anyways, sort of the way mold grows on old bread- slowly, hesitantly, a little reluctantly, but eventually it takes root and then there's no getting rid of it.
"Sure, I'd like that," he said with a nod and a hint of a smile. "I need to get out of here and get a change of scenery... Besides, I wanna know how Hale's gonna manage fighting an entire state."
It was an interesting thing to think about, if there was nothing else left to think about. "And, uh, in answer to your question... I get motion sick real easy. Apparently respawn is one of the things that sets it off and I respawned about three times today, so I'd have to be even crazier than I already am to even think about eating." He held a finger to his lips in the 'hush hush' sign, not really wanting everyone to know about this, although this was indeed a Scout he was talking to so he might as well just get a loudspeaker now and broadcast it to the entire fort.

"Psh, it's only Wyoming. He could probably defeat it just sneezing. Doesn't matter, it's still gonna be awesome," he said as he helped himself to a large serve of the Heavy's attempt at cooking. "Man this looks delish. Well, I reckon eating up will make ya feel better. You puked all your breakfast out, gotta fill up again, right?" He was so smart, he should probably also take over the Medic's duties.

"Well, since you're going --" a cheeky smile spread across Dale's face, "Couldya give me a lift?" So there were ulterior motives after all! He made his way to his table, not bothering Leon any further about the food. Dale knew what was right for him, but he wasn't the guy's mother. He should be able to take care of himself.

Leon didn't try to argue his point about his stomach any further; it was something the Scout wouldn't understand. Instead he moved on to the topic at hand, which was a ride to Teufort.
"Sure, so long as you don't mind riding in a bunged up camper," Leon replied with a shrug, watching the Scout and his mound of food with a raised eyebrow. "I probably need to take her in for a tune-up anyways, I haven't driven her in a long time. Haven't had the time for any camping trips as of late. Oh, that reminds me- you find a bow in the back, you leave it there. Don't touch it, don't move it, just leave it. I need that." He used the Huntsman whenever he went on camping trips, and it'd come in handy sooner or later.

Dale didn't care what kind of car it was - just being able to drive was cool enough by him. It was the other thing Leon said that caught his attention. "A bow? Like the shooting kind? ... Not the wear-in-your-hair kind, right?" He doubted that. Leon didn't seem like that kind of guy.

He shovelled in a mouthfull of peas - not even bothering to chew the overcooked mush. Delicious. This base food was the best home cooking he'd ever had. He turned to Leon once again. "Aw that's not fair man. 'I have a super cool bow in my truck, but you aint allow to touch it at all. Not even a little.' Come on man, don't be such a tease. We gotta shoot at a can or somethin!"

"Yes, genius, the shooting kind," Leon replied, looking a little annoyed although he was trying not to laugh. That would just be weird if he had the other kind of bow in his camper... Yeah, that was just weird. "If you really want to see the bow in action, I can shoot a can or something, but you don't touch it. That's my emergency backup weapon if I can't have the rifle and it'll cost a lot to fix it if it breaks. Although..." He paused a moment, thinking about it. "I suppose I can teach you how to shoot if you teach me how to swing a bat without looking like an idiot."
It was a rather sad statement on Leon's childhood, but he honestly couldn't swing a bat the proper way without clonking himself in the back of the head. It was weird, and he couldn't get it right; he had given up many years back, although it was something he had wanted to do. It was an equal trade, he thought; besides, Dale was gonna owe him for driving him to town.

Dale's grin widened, thrilled at the idea of learning how to shoot a bow. Dale had never been camping. His mother wasn't the type to rough it in the bush. He'd hardly ever had the opportunity to leave Boston. Being out in the wild like this was still a huge novelty for the kid.

"Show you how to swing a bat? Are you f'real?" Dale repeated, with genuine shock in your voice. "But you said you didn't like baseball." He shrugged as he sawed through the tough meat and chewed it about a hundred times. Dale grinned. The food at this base was great. His brother would be so jealous if only he knew. "But sure, if you wanna learn I'll show ya. It's easy. And you'll have the best teacher 'round." He motioned towards himself with this thumb. "You'll be a pro in no time."

"I said I didn't follow it, I never said I didn't like it," Leon pointed out with a tilt of his head. "Besides, I think it'd be a handy thing to know. All I know is up and down in terms of bat swinging and that's not exactly how they do things." He shrugged, his shoulders tensing as he bit back a yawn and stretched in his chair, wincing as he popped his back a couple of times.
"Anyways, bowhunting's simple. Once you get the movement down it's a piece of cake. Just practice from there." He paused and craned his neck to look at the ceiling, trying to see his weekends off for that year. "One of these days I'm gonna have to go camping again- I just don't know when exactly I have the time. I need to look and see." He shook his head and looked back over at the elated Dale, pleased that he had made the kid happy again. "We have a deal?"

In Dale's mind, 'not following baseball' and 'not liking baseball' were pretty much the same thing. Collecting cards, listening to games on the radio and reading fan-zines were just as important as 'swinging a bat'. But he wasn't going to press the issue any further. They way things were looking, he would get a lift to Teufort the next day, the chance to shoot a bow, and perhaps a new baseball buddy.

"I could say the same thing bout swinging a bat. To be honest, it's so easy I'm surprised you can mess it up," he said with a nod, not aware of how rude it sounded. He yawned, stretching out his arms and legs. Although he hadn't worked particularly hard that day (or been killed particularly more than usual) he found himself unusually tired. Perhaps the team's mood had dragged him down. "Man I'm beat. I might just read some Saxton Hale then head to bed. You into comics? You can borrow some of mine."

Leon nodded slightly, averting his gaze from the motormouthed Scout. "Yeah, I have a tendency to mess a lot of things up," he commented in a subdued voice, scratching the back of his head and letting out a sigh. There were some things that Leon Daggett just wasn't good at, and swinging a bat happened to be one of them. He had accepted that a long time ago; still didn't stop Dale's words from stinging as they sunk in.
He put his hat back on and stood up, tucking his chair back in and sliding his hands into his pockets as he looked back at Dale. "No, thanks though. I'm just gonna go straight to sleep, recharge as much as I can. What time are we leaving tomorrow?"

Dale didn't have a very good grasp of time. He woke up in the morning when the Soldier marched down the hallway banging pots together. He started fighting at the Announcer's call, and finished when the countdown ended. He didn't even own a watch.

"Uuh," he managed to mutter to himself, as he scratched the back of his head. Thinking was hard. "How about 9 o'clock. The town's pretty far away, yeah?" he rationalised that if they wanted to go shopping, swing a bat around and shoot at cans, they were going to need a lot of time. So better start early!

With a few more enormous mouthfuls, he finished his plate. "Well, you have a good-night then," he said with a yawn.

"Nine works. I'll see you in the morning," he told the Scout, giving him a nod before silently prowling back down the hallway to his room. In about an hour he was asleep and would remain that way until the alarm clock, which he only used on weekends and days off, buzzed in a rather obnoxious fashion and woke him back up.

Around 8:45 in the morning, the Sniper could be found in the mess hall, eating a substantially larger breakfast than he had the day before. His Submachine Gun was on the table before him, and he was fiddling with some of the parts between bites of toast or apple. He was zoned out to what was around him, not paying attention to his surroundings. His gaze was vacant as he was lost in his thoughts, playing absently with the safety on the gun. Maybe not the best thing to occupy his time, but whatever. He was a Sniper, he knew what he was doing with guns.
Not like he was going to shoot anyone, anyways. He wasn't that stupid, and he was fairly hard to scare.
He was thinking about the trek to town they were going to make, wondering if it was a mistake taking the young and undoubtedly reckless Scout into a populated area- even more worried about trusting him with his precious Huntsman. He had an awfully weird feeling about today, although that may simply have been because he was still tired and a bit sore from yesterday.
Whatever the case, he was stuck now, so he might as well just follow through with it. He needed the fresh air anyways; being on base every week was going to drive him crazy, and he liked changes of scenery. It would be a long drive, but hopefully it was worth it.

Dale was down in the Mess Hall sometime after Leon. He looked completely different from the day before, wearing a baseball jersey sent over by his mother and a Mann Co. cap. He wasn't going to wear his uniform to the town like a total dork. He saw Leon on the far side of room playing with his machine-gun. He waved, but the sniper didn't seem to notice. He shrugged to himself, quickly gathering up the day's supply of bacon and eggs, and took it to the table - sitting across from Leon.

"Mornin," he said, as his eyes drifted down the gun. Despite being pretty oblivious, even Dale could notice the Sniper had something on his mind. "You okay?" he asked, begging to tuck into his breakfast.

The bright green gaze flicked up from the weapon as soon as Dale spoke to him, shaken out of his thoughts. He took the gun off the table so Dale would have more room, tucking the weapon back into his belt. He'd have to remember to stow it in his locker before heading to town- he doubted the civilians would appreciate him toting a rather deadly weapon such as a Submachine Gun around in public.
"Good morning to you too. I'm fine. Just thinking," he replied with a shrug, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He was tempted to tell Dale about his concerns, but decided against it. He'd just sound crazy and quite ridiculous; not wanting to go to town because of a bad feeling? Gimme a break. Leon was probably just psyching himself out again.
The Sniper was in his uniform, minus the vest and hat and trading the dark green pants for blue jeans. He still had the same shirt though, simply because he didn't really have any others. Unlike Dale, he also didn't have anybody to send him shirts, so he simply stuck with his uniform.
A bit dorkish, but that was okay.
"So what's the agenda today? Go and get your comics and then what?" He glanced down at his watch. "You have about ten minutes, by the way, if we want to leave on time."

The kid shot Leon a miffled glance before returning to his breakfast. "Calm down, man. It's the weekend. It doesn't matter if we leave at 9'oclock or ten-past-nine. Don't worry, I'm a fast eater." Dale wasn't the kind to savour his food. He would usually complete a completely laden plate like this within 10 minutes. For once, he didn't need to rush onto the battlefield - he didn't like to feel like he had a time limit on breakfast.

"I guess we go to the town first. Go to the newsagency, maybe pick up some beer," Dale knew from experience the elderly man who usually manned the liquor shop didn't speak any English. If he had any doubts about Dale's age, he never brought it up. He almost always managed to buy some. "That's really all I want - but if you want some clothes or cigarettes or anything else, we'll stop at your shops too." He paused to stuff an entire fried egg into his mouth.

"Then-" he stopped with a gag. He properly chewed and swallowed the egg. "Then I guess we'll head home. Just keep an eye open for a field or somethin so we can hit a ball 'round... and try out that bow." Dale wasn't going to let Leon forget about the archery.

Leon raised an eyebrow. He knew Dale was young, he could tell just by looking at him, but he didn't know exactly how young. "How old are you?" he asked nonchalantly, studying the kid's face as if trying to decide that himself. "And that sounds like a plan. I'll keep my eyes peeled. By the way, I'm gonna kill you if you break my Huntsman, so just... Be gentle with it, 'kay? That's my hunting bow and it really is quite helpful on the battlefield if I wanna be stealthy about it." He shrugged, drinking the last of his coffee, crumpling the paper cup up and throwing it away. Inside he was getting twitchy; the Sniper liked his schedules and he never liked being behind on something. If they were going to leave at nine, then they should probably leave around eight fifty to avoid Leon getting in a tizzy.

The Scout's mouth dropped open at the Sniper's threat to 'kill him', revealing a mouthful of bacon-and-egg mush. He swallowed it all in one gulp, and surprisingly said nothing as he silently reconsidered going to the town with Leon. Without Leon's help, he wouldn't be able to pick up the latest copy of Saxton Hale's comic. He wasn't going to break the stupid bow anyway. Why would Leon even think that? Cautious was his middle name after all. People called him that all the time.

"Yeah, whatever," Dale grumbled dismissively. He continued to eat the rest of his breakfast without speaking. Surely Leon would be pleased - without the Scout's rambling, he was done remarkably quickly, and they would be able to leave at exactly 9 o'clock.

"Dale, chill. Don't take everything so seriously," Leon said with a raised eyebrow, patting the younger Scout on the head and standing up to walk around until he was completely finished. Once he was done, he pulled his keys out of his pocket and twirled them on a finger. "You ready?"
His Submachine Gun was traded for his vest, and he quickly made sure he had everything before gesturing at Dale to follow him before heading down the halls for the back of the base.
The camper was a tiny little thing; it had seen better days appearance wise, but it still ran. The Sniper needed to wash it one of these days, the mud caked on its wheels getting thicker and thicker.
"Get in," he said simply, getting in himself and starting the camper. It growled, rumbled, protested, and finally purred as something popped and allowed it to run smoothly again.
Leon was going to slap him if he said something disparaging about his beloved camper.

The Sniper's reassurance that it was a joke, and the patronising pat on the head did little to sweeten Dale's mood. He pushed his plate aside, leaving it to whoever had Kitchen Duty to clean it away and responded to Leon with a nod.

Leon's worries about Dale disliking his van were completely unfounded. He gasped as the van came into view. In fact, Dale was too busy worrying about how he could convince Leon to let him drive it to notice the scuffs. Perhaps if he offered to clean it... But since the Sniper was already on edge about the stupid bow, Dale wouldn't press the matter... for now. He'd bother him about that later.

"Oh, my gosh," Dale said with a his hands clasped over his mouth in pure glee. The van roared (stuttered?) to life and pulled away from the RED base. "This is so cool!" He craned his neck out the window and watched the RED base fade into the distance.

The town was about two hours from base, Dale would enjoy every moment of it. With Dale alongside him, Leon might not be so lucky. "So do you wanna play I-spy or somethin'?"

The normally reserved Sniper broke into a grin, amused at Dale's reaction to the camper. He liked it, yes; he didn't know it was that cool. But whatever. He'd take it.
He winced slightly as something else popped in the motor and the van bounced for a little bit before smoothing out again. He needed to take it in for a tune up. Maybe he could do that while they were in town. Last thing he needed was for this old hunk of metal to break down in the middle of nowhere.
"Sure," he replied, not sure how else to pass the time. "You know how to play twenty questions?" It was a personal favorite of Leon's on long car trips when he was younger and actually had a life of some sort.

"Yeah I know how to play," the Scout said - stretching out his arms and legs, and then falling limp into the car seat. Sitting still for this long was going to drive him insane. "Right, I've got something in mind." He nodded. "Go ahead and guess."

OOC: We can time-jump to the town if you want. I actually wouldn't mind RPing it out, but I understand it could get a bit tedious.