A/N: Howdy hey it's been quite a while. Got devoured by some major Spy/Scoutma feelings in the past couple days so when I got this idea for a oneshot I decided to do it! Hope you like it.

The battlefield was wet and mushy. Rainy season in Dustbowl had begun and the rainfall from the previous night kept the dirt grounds muddy. The sky was still overcast as if it would begin raining again soon. Not like it mattered though. The bloodshed would continue, rain or shine. However, this sort of weather suited Spy very well and gave him an advantage. The heavy fog made it easy for him to hide without cloaking himself; Although he couldn't be seen, making himself silent was a challenge while his feet sloshed about in the mud. He succeeded in making a few noteworthy backstabs before his team had won the round and everyone went back to their base to restock on supplies and rest before the next match started.

Spy watched his teammates as they went about their pre-match business. All of them had a bit of a routine, which Spy enjoyed witnessing due to his interest in observation. He watched as Medic fussed with his hair, starting to frizz from the humidity. The corners of Spy's mouth subtly twitched in response. Suddenly he was taken back years ago, a memory triggered. Back then, Spy loved to use his language as a weapon. It was knowledge hardly anyone knew, and the taste it left in his mouth after he conquered conversations with idiots was absolutely delicious. His favorite pasttime was insulting people in his native tongue, under the guise of a compliment. Calling particularly unattractive women "hideous cross-eyed donkeys" in a voice so saccharine sweet it'd drip from his lips like honey, leaving the clueless women as puddles of flesh was a feat he never got tired of achieving. That is, until he met his match.

He was eating in a dinky diner, seated at the counter. It was raining heavily outside and it appeared no one else was expecting it except for him. He wore a trenchcoat, and pulled the tall collars closer to his face, trying to dissolve out of existence.

There are but three things Spy loves more than anything and they are good wine, observation, and judgment. Here, Spy could get two out of three, which, was a very good deal in his book. He sat quietly in his stool watching all the patrons come in through the door, the soft doorbell ringing with each entry. In his mind he pointed out everyone's flaws, picked them apart, guessing how dull and idiotic they were, and it was very entertaining.

Then, a woman walked into the diner. Her hair was sopping wet, bangs drooping in her eyes. There were goosebumps along her arms and she shivered as water dripped all over the linoleum floor. "A drowned rat," Spy thought with a smirk. "You look positively dreadful," Spy cooed in French, "did someone drag you through a latrine?"

It was quiet for a while.

She had stopped shivering and stood completely still. She slowly parted her hair from her face revealing her impassioned, angry eyes and screeched back, in French no less, "I'LL HAVE YA KNOW I HAD TO WALK TA WORK TODAY THROUGH ALL THIS FUCKIN' RAIN WITH NO JACKET AND HEELS, YOU LOWLIFE BASTARD! WHO DO YA THINK YA ARE SAYIN' SHITTY THINGS LIKE THAT TO ME? DO YA KNOW HOW FUCKIN' HARD IT IS RUNNIN' ALL OVER THE GODDAMN CITY ON THIS SLIPPERY FUCKIN' CEMENT? I FELL IN THREE POTHOLES YOU SON OF A BITCH! I HOPE YA CHOKE ON YOUR FOOD, YOU DAMNED FRENCH POOF!"

The second she opened her mouth and spoke back to him, he was not offended, heavens no, he's heard worse. Quite the contrary, he was awestruck. Such fire, such vivacity in her, he could see it now. Her beautiful dark eyes, sharp and keen with an intensity and intent to kill with his own linguistic weapon. Her facial structure was divine, and her whole face was brimming with a rosy blush. Most likely from anger, but it didn't draw away from her beauty. Her slender neck and lean legs that looked so soft to the touch. He was positive her skin was as smooth as butter. As beautiful as she was though, he found himself most attracted to how confident, how real, how…alive she was. She was no ordinary woman.

Eventually she finally finished screaming at him and stormed off in a huff, and from that moment on Spy spent every moment with her trying to make up for what he said, though she had forgiven him after a few more conversations, as she fell in love with him just as quickly.

Suddenly, Sniper patted Spy on the shoulder, "Come on then, mate, next round's startin!"

And Spy was back in the present.

It took him a while to get back in the game, emotionally, but soon he was fully involved, dominating left and right. The BLU Engineer was making their attempts at victory a real pain in the ass, so Spy took it upon himself to…rid themselves of that little problem. He was able to sneak up on him with ease, but just as he was about to stab that Southern prick in the back, he saw a slight twinkle sparkling on Engineer's hand.

And he froze.

A wedding ring.

Spy's heart began to ache, but he kept his knife up and ready, eyes glued calm and steady on that little band of gold around his finger.

He wanted to propose to her. He wanted nothing more than that. He felt so guilty pulling her along in this relationship with no solid foundation, no promise of a future, a lifetime together. But he couldn't. He could not give her that promise; He couldn't bring himself to. He saw the dirty looks BLU Scout gave him. He knew how much he hated him. He could feel the hot-blooded rage boiling within Scout every time he so much as heard Spy's stupid title. If Spy ever proposed to her, he knew she'd never be happy. She could never be happy in a marriage where her own son abhorred the decision she made. And it was for that reason Spy put his own selfish desire to be with this woman forever, aside, because her happiness was more important to him than anything.

The golden band shined brightly, taunting Spy with the meaning it carried. And even though it was certain that after Spy would kill this Engineer he'd respawn, he could not bring himself to do it, as it meant one less life to be spent with the woman he promised eternal love