A/N: So, now that RvB actually has a category on here, I can post all my RvB stuff. (Though holding off on Murderer's Row until I'm done rewriting it.) Anyway, this is a very old fic (a couple of years at least) but thought it best to start with.

"Church! Church! Wake up!"

Caboose prodded Church for a few minutes, but Church could be a pretty deep sleeper. Eventually, Caboose had just pushed the blankets off, grabbed Church's ankles and started dragging him through Blue Base. Church didn't wake up until Caboose had dragged him outside, and he'd only woken up because he'd acquired a mouthful of sand. Not his breakfast of choice.

"Bleh, gross. Where am I? Why am I only wearing boxers? Hey! Caboose, what the fuck?"

"You would not wake up!"

"Yeah, but that's no fucking reason to... what the hell is that?"

"Well... I tried asking the blue man on the radio for a piano, but he said that was a stupid request, because it wouldn't help beat the Red guys. So, I made a piano!"

"Caboose, that isn't a piano. That's just a chunk of wood with the key things carved on it."

Caboose pouted, as Church sat up to have a better look at Caboose's 'piano'. "You have to think outside the box, Church!"

"Outside the box? It's a fucking chunk of wood! It can't play music!"

"Well, I will use it to teach you all the notes. And then when we leave, I can find a proper piano and teach you even more awesomely!"

"Wait... you're going... to teach me?"

"Yes."

This could only end in disaster.

Church slapped his forehead. He'd complained about everyone in Blue Base having some kind of musical talent except for him. But that had been months ago, and he'd completely forgotten about it. It had been a throwaway comment anyway.

"Dammit, what's with all the musical shit around here? Flowers could play guitar, Tucker can sing, Tex used to play violin, Sister can play guitar as well, and you're somehow a fucking pianist. Is it that fucking easy? God, you're making me look bad."

Caboose hadn't answered him at the time, so Church had assumed it had gone over the moron's head. Obviously not, judging by Caboose's decision to become a piano tutor.

"Okay, um..." Caboose chewed on his finger thoughtfully. "Where do I start? Uh... those are keys. And you poke them to make the piano make noise."

"No, those are parts of a block of wood. They don't make any noise. Caboose, you realise this is fucking ridiculous, right?"

"Uh. No?"

"Oh, goddammit."

"That one is a C. And the black one is a sharp C." Caboose poked the two keys. After noting that, indeed, they made no noise, he poked them again, adding a 'doo' each time he did. "Imagination!"

Church covered his face with his hands. "I think my brain is dying." Caboose pointed at three of the other other black 'keys'. Which were the same as the rest of the wood, but Caboose had coloured them in with a black texta.

"You can play 'Mary Had A Little Lamb' on those three."

"Do I look like a five-year-old to you?" Caboose squinted at him for a second. Church groaned. "That was rhetorical, Caboose."

"Well, that's the first one I was taught..."

"Were you five at the time?"

"...Yes. But age does not matter when it comes to music. Marzipan was five when he started composing."

"Do you mean Mozart?"

"And he wasn't composing when he was Church age," Caboose continued, ignoring the question. "Because he was dead then, and dead people cannot compose."

"How come you know stuff about music but you need help to open the oven?"

"There was no class on opening ovens at school."

"Fuck. Okay, fine, I'll pretend I'm playing the fucking song. If it'll make you leave me alone."

"Yay!" Church angrily poked the 'key', muttering under his breath. "Uh, Church? I have not told you how to play it yet."

"Fuck. This is stupid. You're stupid."

"I know. But you will learn to play, and learn to play good. We are not leaving until you can play Mary Had A Little Lamb!"

"Or what?"

"...I will tell Tucker you are scared of thunderstorms."

"Asshole! ...okay! I'll learn how to play the stupid song..."

Five minutes later...

"No, no... sharp A four times!"

"Fuck! Okay, look, four times. Doo, doo, do- fuck! Ow!" Church jerked back his hand from where he had been angrily hitting the 'piano'. "Fucking splinter!"

"Owie." Caboose reached over, grabbed Church's hand so he could see the splinter. "Oh... man. That is a really big splinter."

"No, really? Hey, hey, what are you doing? No, don't go pulling at it... ow! Fuck!"

"Sorry, did not get it out... Mama always put ice on them first... I will do that!" Caboose started dragging Church back to base, with Church bitching and swearing the whole time about it being Caboose's fault that he was sitting in the dirt in nothing but boxer shorts with his fingers full of splinters.

"...and that is why you suck!" Church finished, as they arrived in the kitchen.

"Bow chicka bow wow," Tucker called from another room.

"I will fucking stab you!"

"Er... me or Tucker?"

"Both!"

"Okay."

Church continued to grumble to himself, while Caboose went through the freezer, looking for the ice, which was difficult because he'd thrown out all the ice cubes and replaced them with fruit juice two days before.

"Um... we only have fruit juice cubes. ...Tucker did it."

"Whatever... I'll get the splinter out myself, I don't need your help."

There was a long, awkward silence as Church spent the next minute trying to get the splinter out, the silence interrupted only by Church cursing quietly. Apparently he'd run out of things to grumble about.

"...hey, Church?"

"What?" Church looked up at Caboose, who looked really nervous.

"I am sorry my piano gave you splinters. And I would not really tell Tucker you are scared of thunderstorms."

"...yeah, I know. You're not that much of an asshole... well, most of the time," Church muttered. Caboose got hold of his hand again, this time armed with a small plastic bag of fruit juice cubes. "Hey, quit it."

"But this was what Mama always did! Except with ice cubes, not fruit juice cubes..."

"Alright, alright, just don't try to kiss it better or any of that shit."

"Oh, I forgot about that..."

"Don't even think about it."

"Next time I try to teach you, I will..." Caboose paused for a moment, in thought (or at least the closest to thought that the Blue could achieve), before his face brightened. "I will wrap the piano in plastic wrap. Then there will be no more splinters!"

"Oh my god, no..." Church groaned.

"...you don't want to?"

Don't look directly into his eyes... he'll get you with his puppy dog eyes... don't do it, don't look! ...aw, shit, I looked.

"Goddammit!"

"Oh, that's a yes, isn't it?"

"...yeah... I'll try. But I'll probably end up getting angry, exploding and killing something," Church grumbled.

"I thought only Andy could explode," Caboose pondered, removing the back of fruity ice from Church's finger.

"Not literally, dumbas—ow! Stop pulling at the splinter!"

It was at this point that Tucker arrived to inquire as to why Church was only wearing boxers and holding hands with Caboose.

The rest of the morning was spent chasing Tucker around the base with various threats of torture, murder and hiding his porn magazines.