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Title: Here Comes The Sun
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Demoman/Yana
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1100
Author's note: tf2promptfest: Demoman/Any female - watching the PBS channel.

For Bowlersandtophats, who I owe stuff to.

Technically Neil Degrasse Tyson did not Science on the precursor to PBS (Which was called NET) in 1972, but obviously he invented time travel.

Or in TF2 universe he did.



It wasn't uncommon that Tavish woke up on someone's couch--or floor--with little memory of the night or day before. As far as he was concerned, with jobs like his, a lack of memory was one of the things keeping him alive. However, he didn't usually wake up with gorgeous women right beside him. At least, not that often.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" the woman said. She pushed her blond bangs out of her eyes. "I was trying to be quiet."

Tavish pushed himself up, and popped an emergency mint in his mouth. No one could say a Highlands Demolition man like him wasn't prepared for anything. Thankfully, for once, he wasn't too hungover. Vomiting on her shoes would've been somewhat of a mood killer.

The plaid couch, covered in bullet holes, stains, and burn marks felt a lot more homey with company. It was just small enough that he could feel her knee to his, her thigh to his. Even under this thick sweater, covered in reindeer---in this temperature?--he could see the shape of distracting curves.

"I didn't mean to intrude on your nap. I've just gotten addicted to this program," she said, just somewhat apologetically. "We never had television in Siberia. And now I can't stop watching it. The world is full of such wonders. He's so dreamy with the way he goes on about science and space," Yana said. She sighed as he talked more about black holes. Tavish smiled to himself. He adjusted his collar For once, he wasn't covered in blood, and didn't reek of sweat, vomit and other bad choices. Fate had always given him a bad hand, but for once, Lady Luck had smiled his way.

Neil Degrasse Tyson was on the screen, explaining facets of space. In moments, his face was lost to a starry screen and a man asking for pledge donations. Once, when he was particularly drunk, Jane had called in and pledged his American foot up their ass for interrupting his patriotic Sesame Street episode. Tavish, however, was glad for the interruption.

"Nay, I've no problem with ye wakin' me up. Ye are some wake up call. I'll tell ye more about lady science, but only for a price. Ye got a name, or do I just call ye beautiful?"

She blinked, flustered and blushing for a moment. But her surprise turned into a bright smile, like sunshine filtering down into his life. "I...Yana! I mean, my name is Yana. I'm here with my brother---surely you know him, you really can't miss him. He's almost as big as a house," Yana said. She tried to hold her arm high over her head just to signal how large he was, though Tavish knew very well just what a behemoth their Heavy Weapons Guy was.

"Aye, he's the sort ye don't forget. I work with him," Tavish said.

Heavy's sister? Now there was asking for trouble if he ever saw it. But he danced with death on a daily basis. One wrong wire, and he'd be in pieces.

She continued on, talking with her hands in excited gestures shaping out a past and future with her slim, pale fingers.

"Yes, Taivsh told us so much about us....especially you! I mean, it sounded very fascinating, all those jobs, and fighting monsters and wizards," she said. She looked up to him, a hint of something longer--a crush through the years, perhaps. Like a spark headed towards a stick of dynamite, he'd have to treat this carefully. No gin-joint fling for a girl like this.

He'd grown weary of the lost names and keys on the bar room floor. When he took her hand, it was a contrast. Her hand tiny, and surprisingly calloused, entwined in his brown hands. But, even Neil Degrasse Tyson would be jealous at the the tender look she gave him.

"I could tell ye those as well, but you'd have to go drinkin' with me. A good tale deserves a good ale," Tavish said.

"Oh! That's a good one!" She said. She laughed, perhaps too much for a small bit of wit, but he'd take the compliment. She squeezed his hand.

"Do you have any vodka?" She said mischievously.

"Vodka? Ach, it's like wrestlin' a bear!"

"Yes, that's exactly how I'd describe it! Misha doesn't like it at all. But Zhanna and Bronislava and I would stay up late, talking of the future over many, many drinks. We often slept late; there was little else to do but read and dream, and wait," she said.

"Aye, I know that life. Drinkin' by candlelight and then almost burnin' the house down," Tavish said.

"Mother caught the flame before it got too far. She scolded us so much," Yana said. She smiled at the memory. Her lips were red, and so, kissable, to the point of distraction.

"I can get some vodka for ye, but my flasks are filled with Scrumpy," Tavish said.

She leaned in, sunshine and wonder. He took a steadying breath. It felt like he was almost drunk on the scent of her. She whispered playfully in his head. "And will you show me the stars and all these dragons? We can dance on the bear pelts we catch."

"I'll blow up the moon and bring it right to yae hands," he said. His heartbeat was like small explosions, like being underwater.

She laughed, and what a lovely sound it was.

"That's some promise, but I'm holding you to it," Yana said.

He let go of her hand, and pulled out a little copper coin he'd gotten years ago, in some themed bar past Tijuana. He held it up and flipped the coin. She caught it right from the air, a glint between her palms.

"Well, I'll be. You really did keep your promise," she said.

"Aye, lassie. That's only the start," Tavish said.

She smiled, with just the hint of a blush across her cheeks It was like sun on snow, the first flowers coming up. An urge to kiss her came up, tuned to the beating of his heart. For once, he resisted it. She'd have moonlight and romance, and more than a ragged couch with a pledge drive like the white noise behind them.Title: Here Comes The Sun
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Demoman/Yana
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1100
Author's note: tf2promptfest: Demoman/Any female - watching the PBS channel.

For Bowlersandtophats, who I owe stuff to.

Technically Neil Degrasse Tyson did not Science on the precursor to PBS (Which was called NET) in 1972, but obviously he invented time travel.

Or in TF2 universe he did.



It wasn't uncommon that Tavish woke up on someone's couch--or floor--with little memory of the night or day before. As far as he was concerned, with jobs like his, a lack of memory was one of the things keeping him alive. However, he didn't usually wake up with gorgeous women right beside him. At least, not that often.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" the woman said. She pushed her blond bangs out of her eyes. "I was trying to be quiet."

Tavish pushed himself up, and popped an emergency mint in his mouth. No one could say a Highlands Demolition man like him wasn't prepared for anything. Thankfully, for once, he wasn't too hungover. Vomiting on her shoes would've been somewhat of a mood killer.

The plaid couch, covered in bullet holes, stains, and burn marks felt a lot more homey with company. It was just small enough that he could feel her knee to his, her thigh to his. Even under this thick sweater, covered in reindeer---in this temperature?--he could see the shape of distracting curves.

"I didn't mean to intrude on your nap. I've just gotten addicted to this program," she said, just somewhat apologetically. "We never had television in Siberia. And now I can't stop watching it. The world is full of such wonders. He's so dreamy with the way he goes on about science and space," Yana said. She sighed as he talked more about black holes. Tavish smiled to himself. He adjusted his collar For once, he wasn't covered in blood, and didn't reek of sweat, vomit and other bad choices. Fate had always given him a bad hand, but for once, Lady Luck had smiled his way.

Neil Degrasse Tyson was on the screen, explaining facets of space. In moments, his face was lost to a starry screen and a man asking for pledge donations. Once, when he was particularly drunk, Jane had called in and pledged his American foot up their ass for interrupting his patriotic Sesame Street episode. Tavish, however, was glad for the interruption.

"Nay, I've no problem with ye wakin' me up. Ye are some wake up call. I'll tell ye more about lady science, but only for a price. Ye got a name, or do I just call ye beautiful?"

She blinked, flustered and blushing for a moment. But her surprise turned into a bright smile, like sunshine filtering down into his life. "I...Yana! I mean, my name is Yana. I'm here with my brother---surely you know him, you really can't miss him. He's almost as big as a house," Yana said. She tried to hold her arm high over her head just to signal how large he was, though Tavish knew very well just what a behemoth their Heavy Weapons Guy was.

"Aye, he's the sort ye don't forget. I work with him," Tavish said.

Heavy's sister? Now there was asking for trouble if he ever saw it. But he danced with death on a daily basis. One wrong wire, and he'd be in pieces.

She continued on, talking with her hands in excited gestures shaping out a past and future with her slim, pale fingers.

"Yes, Taivsh told us so much about us....especially you! I mean, it sounded very fascinating, all those jobs, and fighting monsters and wizards," she said. She looked up to him, a hint of something longer--a crush through the years, perhaps. Like a spark headed towards a stick of dynamite, he'd have to treat this carefully. No gin-joint fling for a girl like this.

He'd grown weary of the lost names and keys on the bar room floor. When he took her hand, it was a contrast. Her hand tiny, and surprisingly calloused, entwined in his brown hands. But, even Neil Degrasse Tyson would be jealous at the the tender look she gave him.

"I could tell ye those as well, but you'd have to go drinkin' with me. A good tale deserves a good ale," Tavish said.

"Oh! That's a good one!" She said. She laughed, perhaps too much for a small bit of wit, but he'd take the compliment. She squeezed his hand.

"Do you have any vodka?" She said mischievously.

"Vodka? Ach, it's like wrestlin' a bear!"

"Yes, that's exactly how I'd describe it! Misha doesn't like it at all. But Zhanna and Bronislava and I would stay up late, talking of the future over many, many drinks. We often slept late; there was little else to do but read and dream, and wait," she said.

"Aye, I know that life. Drinkin' by candlelight and then almost burnin' the house down," Tavish said.

"Mother caught the flame before it got too far. She scolded us so much," Yana said. She smiled at the memory. Her lips were red, and so, kissable, to the point of distraction.

"I can get some vodka for ye, but my flasks are filled with Scrumpy," Tavish said.

She leaned in, sunshine and wonder. He took a steadying breath. It felt like he was almost drunk on the scent of her. She whispered playfully in his head. "And will you show me the stars and all these dragons? We can dance on the bear pelts we catch."

"I'll blow up the moon and bring it right to yae hands," he said. His heartbeat was like small explosions, like being underwater.

She laughed, and what a lovely sound it was.

"That's some promise, but I'm holding you to it," Yana said.

He let go of her hand, and pulled out a little copper coin he'd gotten years ago, in some themed bar past Tijuana. He held it up and flipped the coin. She caught it right from the air, a glint between her palms.

"Well, I'll be. You really did keep your promise," she said.

"Aye, lassie. That's only the start," Tavish said.

She smiled, with just the hint of a blush across her cheeks It was like sun on snow, the first flowers coming up. An urge to kiss her came up, tuned to the beating of his heart. For once, he resisted it. She'd have moonlight and romance, and more than a ragged couch with a pledge drive like the white noise behind them.

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