fandomtownies | Fandom Trooper Station, Wednesday

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Fandom Trooper Station, Wednesday

So, the town had gone nuts again and of course it was on a Wednesday. And, if you thought for a moment that Danny was gonna deal with getting paint on his clothes, you'd be wrong. He sighed when he spotted a weird little sniper's nest on top of the building, suddenly realizing where Steve had gotten off to this morning.

And when he continued on into the station, the troopers turned from their defensive positions around the office, paintball guns in hand.

"If so much as a speck of paint hits me, none of you get the creampuffs I brought." As per his usual 'don't murder Steve for the training bullshit' bribe.

The guns went down immediately.

"Damn right," he muttered under his breath, putting the box on one of the communal tables.

[open with a tiny bit of ocd!]

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Where there was a SEAL who was enjoying himself far too much.

Steve was a Goddamn Professional, which was why he wasn't giggling to himself up in his little nest, but he had managed to wing the barista who keep messing up his order and the guy hadn't even known where the paint had come from so yes, this was a really good day.

Hee.

"You having fun up there practicing for the zombie apocalypse?" Danny asked, coffee in hand. He was depending on Steve to keep him safe from attack here.

Steve popped his head up and beamed down at him. "It's important training!"

It was not.

It was adorable. Like a puppy who was currently destroying your favorite shoes.

"Well, there's coffee and creampuffs inside once you're done sniping unsuspecting townsfolk."

"I'm also sniping suspecting townsfolk," Steve said. "They just don't know it's me."

He was having so. much. fun.

"Big, brave SEAL," he drawled.

Steve grinned. "Using the training your tax dollars paid for, Danno," he said. "You're welcome."

"I'm very proud of you," Danny assured him. "Did that not come across?"

Was it the wry amusement? Because it was there. Deep down inside.

"It would come across more clearly with a cream puff and a 'thank you for your service,'" Steve said, nodding Very Sincerely.

"Oh, is that it? Should I put on a USO girl outfit for you next?" Danny asked. You know, as a joke. A normal, heterosexual joke between pals.

"You have one of those?" Steve asked, eyebrows arching.

"No, Steven. I do not." Which was not the actual reason it wasn't likely to happen.

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And there was Octavia, just minding her own goddamned business as she marched down the street on her way to Turtle and Canary, so far unaware anything in particular was going on in town.

Choose wisely, Steve.

Steve...would not.

He wouldn't do a head shot or anything--he wasn't unsafe about this--but he was definitely aiming at her right thigh and pulling the trigger with the confidence of someone who'd been extremely rigorously trained to hit what he was aiming at.

Paint splattered against the leather of Octavia's pants. It didn't hurt, as such, but it was --

It instantly put Octavia into a very particular state of mind, let's put it like that. And she was no hapless barista. Right before she darted to duck closer to the building, to get cover, she glanced up towards the roof.

Yeah, she knew where you were, Steve.

She might've found him but he wasn't going to be an idiot and wave at her or anything from his spot.

He'd already stowed the gun away to avoid the possibility of the sun glinting off the sight--and because this was fun. He didn't need to double-tap someone in a game.

It wasn't a game everyone had chosen to participate in, though. And now Octavia was out of view, trying to make her way up onto the roof.

(Her heart pounding in her chest as she pushed away memories that were trying to come back.)

Steve narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out where she'd gone in the few seconds he'd broken eye contact--into a store, maybe? He didn't poke up too far out of his nest as he did a quick 360 sweep.

It took a moment for Octavia to make her way up, in part because she'd chosen to circle around to the back of the building. But a few moments later, she was there.

Quietly creeping up to the nest.

Steve hadn't survived in the places the US Navy had dropped him without a pretty finely tuned sense of people sneaking up on him, so he was keeping his head on a swivel, searching for that slight movement.

He'd kept his gun down on the floor of his next because he wasn't a complete idiot, Danny's ranting aside.

Octavia wasn't subtle once she got closer, anyway.

No, she charged, recklessly, with the intention of wrenching him out of his hidey-hole, maybe trying to land a punch while she was at it.

"What the hell, lady?" Steve said, ducking the punch from flat on his back now, ouch, and kicking the gun out of the way, just in case. "It's paint!"

Edited 2020-09-03 00:52 (UTC)

Did I need OCD? Nah.

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OOC