“I’m always packin’, Cap,” he said, and fired off another round. “Consider this payback.”
Brock managed to block it before it hit him in the chest, the rubber-tipped foam bullet bouncing off his forearm instead. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”
That smug face split into a wide grin, his teeth a startling white against his deep bronze skin. “Nah, you love me. And hey, I brought one for you too.”
Brock eyed him. “Yeah? You wanna have a shootout with me?”
Maka shrugged his wide shoulders and bent over his bunk to rummage through the duffel on the floor. “I’m down with that. Been working on this one for a while. You’re gonna love it.”
Brock grunted, set his hands on his hips and waited.
Sitting up, Maka turned to him with a blue Nerf gun in his hand. “Happy belated birthday.”
His birthday was last month. Brock blinked and crossed over to take it from him, couldn’t help but grin when he saw it up close. “Aww, you made me a Captain America gun.” He’d even painted it bright blue and added the iconic star shield on the sides of it.
“I did. And I made some modifications to it, too. Now it fires semi-auto. And yours has blue bullets, so we can tell who shot the shit out of the other easier.”
He barked out a laugh as he examined the modified barrel. “I take it back. I do love it. Now where’s my ammo?”
A mischievous glint entered Maka’s gaze. “Can’t remember. Maybe I left it at home.” He raised his weapon and pulled the trigger.
Brock shouted with laughter and grabbed his pillow to act as a shield as he ran at Maka, catching him across the body. The two of them bounced off the old mattress and hit the floor.
“Hey, Cap needs help taking the Hawaiian Hulk!” someone shouted.
Pinned beneath the human tank on top of him, Brock gasped for breath as he tried to get out of the headlock Maka put him in, his face turning color from the pressure at his throat. “Do not!” he managed to wheeze out.
Shouts and whoops filled the barracks as the team came rushing to his rescue. Maka got in one good noogie, hard enough to make Brock’s scalp burn, then the team attacked him. This time Maka was laughing like a maniac as he struggled to escape the mass of humanity piled on top of him.
Brock wiggled free and climbed to his feet, grinning like an idiot. They’d all needed to blow off some steam, and this was good harmless fun. Well, mostly harmless.
Colebrook had his legs wrapped around Maka’s waist from behind, his arms around that wide chest. Prentiss was twined around Maka’s legs like a living snake. Granger was lying on top of them all, clinging to whomever he could get a grip on.
Even Khan ran over to throw himself on top of Granger, eliciting a yell from everybody under him, and looked up at Brock, his expression exactly like a little kid on Christmas morning. “Get him, Cap! Now’s your chance!”
“What should I do to him?” Brock mused.
“Whatever, but do it fast, this fucker’s gonna Hulk out any second,” Colebrook grated out, his face turning purple from the strain of keeping Maka subdued.
“All right, hold him still.”
“Easy for you to say,” Prentiss panted, still holding on for dear life.
Next to them, Freeman had his phone out, videoing the spectacle. “Wait, I’m switching to photo now. Okay, say cheese.”
“Smile, Maka,” Colebrook wheezed, red-faced as he grinned up at the phone.
Brock turned toward his bunk to retrieve his new weapon but Lockhart was already standing behind him, holding out the Captain America gun, now fully loaded. “Give him a taste of his own medicine, Cap.”
“Good idea,” he muttered. Spinning around, Brock aimed it at the back of Maka’s head, just visible in a gap between Granger and Khan, and pulled the trigger.
A flurry of foam darts bounced off three of the other guys before he finally hit Maka, and he didn’t stop until he ran out of ammo.
“Hey, it works pretty well,” he called out to Maka, who was still battling. The big guy’s face was set, his nostrils flared as he fought his way free of his teammates, one by one.
Movement to the right caught Brock’s attention. Commander Taggart stopped in the barracks doorway, his eyebrows rising as he took in the scene. “Good to see you boys enjoying yourselves. Do me a favor and not break any tables in here, huh?”
“Nah, we’re good,” Brock said as Maka shoved to his feet, grinning again, a bruise forming on his cheek. God, he loved serving with these crazy bastards. “You need us?” he asked Taggart.