A/N : Hey, peeps!

Yes, I was planning to do a oneshot for this. This is gonna be short, just as I expected it to be. It's surrounding the Team Fortress universe so yeah. Really short, actually. To me, it's short. I'm tired of making some more long-ass chapters so yeah I usually write certain short oneshots in my break. The POB story is really going to kill me and I'm only just halfway or perhaps a third of my fourth chapter. Anyways, I absolutely. Love. The RED Spy and BLU scout relationship. FEATURES A NAME SPOILER. :D

Enjoy!

a spy's RED notebook

The BLU Scout crept towards the crate, trying to be as silent as he could. A good old lunch break it was: clear skies, dotty clouds, bright and nice sunshine and a cool breeze blowing on every hot spot. There was the RED Spy, sitting on the crate in a slumber with a brown notebook beside him and a blue pen. The gentle, breeze of the wind blew the book open, the pages flipping from one to three to five and so on. The Scout was only curious; he only wanted to see what the Spy had written in that notebook. He tip-toed carefully, nearing the Spy, getting more anxious in every step he took. He felt guilty at first, but he knew that the Spy wasn't playing fair either - by stealing his baseball bat and sometimes hitting him with it in his invisibility disguise. Indeed was he a pesky teenager but who couldn't resist to read a French descent's notes?

When he reached the Spy, the Scout checked to see if the Spy was really sleeping. The Spy's eyes were closed, his arms were folded at his chest and his head tipped forward, almost dropping his cigarette. In a crossing-legs position, he looked as though he dozed off from boredom. Confirming that he was asleep, the Scout sighed with relief.

He saw the notebook, and the scribble handwriting in it made him disgusted. Ah, France. You never ceased to amaze me with your penmanship of damnation. The condition of the book seemed to be poor, as though it was written a few years back. The Scout took the book, sliding it into his hands and picking it up as fast as he can. The Spy was still in his dreamy wonderland; good. He closed the book and looked at the cover. It had the words which were completely incomprehensible, maybe only to him, and probably written in the foreign language the Spy knew. The Scout ignored this, and turned to the first page.

Regret and guilt had almost punched him in the face as he did so. Alright, maybe doing this behind the enemy wasn't a good idea. The Scout moved away to have a good distance from the Spy. He turned to a hairpin bend and went around it, getting out of the Spy's range of vision.

"This should be fine," The Scout mumbled to himself. Feeling triumphant, he turned to a random page and started to read its contents:

25th July

Ah, just another day in the cafe as usual. What a regular breakfast it was: eating regular scones, drinking regular coffee and listening to regular music. I greeted the waiters and waitresses normally. The people in America were nice so I had no problem adjusting into their environment. I sat at the counter, sipping my black coffee. Nothing was wrong that day until the waitress greeted someone who entered the cafe. I turned back and saw a lady who... walked into the cafe. No, I couldn't tell if she was skipping or walking or whatever motion you could suggest.

But there was something about her I don't understand. She was remarkably gorgeous: nice curly black hair, a bright blue hair bend, a bright blue dress with a black leather belt. Her eyes were the only thing that caught me off guard. In her eyes I've noticed something strange. It wasn't bad; it was good. Her twinkling joy was reflected in those eyes and I don't know how to emphasize on that particular part.-

Wait a minute. "He had a crush on someone?" The Scout spoke in his mind in pure disbelief. Well, the Spy was a romantic charm; he couldn't argue on that. Also, the description of his 'crush' reminded him of the appearance of someone he knew. Someone he knew very well... but who? Not wanting to stop, The Scout continued reading:

- She smiled at me with concern written on her face. I didn't realize that I was staring at her the whole time. Of course I was embarrassed, who couldn't? The lady sat down beside me, ready to order a latte. I immediately stopped her in mid sentence. Instead, I ordered a latte for her in my treat. I couldn't let her go away; ordering her something should make her happy. And she was happy.

It was nice talking to her: she didn't argue and she didn't fuss. She was so ladylike and sophisticated. It seems that we both have the same likes. The lady told me she had just moved into town and needed someone to give her a tour around the neighborhood.

Well, I had little knowledge about the town when I moved here but now I felt like a student in a graduation ceremony. I volunteered myself, much to the lady's relief. However, I couldn't hide the question which rang through my mind. When we finished our coffee and latte, I quickly asked if Tuesday would be a great day for the tour around town. She smiled coolly at me, calling it a date. I was just as satisfied when I said that. The lady made her way towards the door before I could stop her. What was her name, exactly? I asked her that last question.

She said her name was... Judy. Judy Melbarn.

Judy Melbarn. Judy Melbarn? That sounded strangely familiar. The Spy had an affair with a woman named Judy. The description was so eerily familiar that a part of the Scout's mind told him that he knew Judy very well. It was like as though he had met Judy face to face. Needless to say, the Scout was impressed in the Spy's utmost patience, manners and polished behavior. The Spy knew how to get the ladies he wanted. The only thing which frightened the Scout was the name of that woman. It was scary to find out that he knew Judy.

Turning to another random page ahead of the entry he had just read, he looked at a much shorter but sweeter entry. Perhaps he would get a better glimpse of the Spy and Judy's relationship:

12th August

It was our third date. I had a wonderful time and so did Judy. A nice movie and a good dinner on an exquisite never fail to make her happy.
My mood seemed to brighten every time she looks at me. Was this love? I'm afraid so. I wasn't afraid of love, I was lucky to learn such a beautiful emotion. Nobody deserves to not be loved. Perhaps... some people do. Other than that, Judy doesn't seem to be loved as much as I was in this town. I asked her, in dinner, if she was concerned about anything. Her face suddenly dropped; I knew that something was bothering her.

She told me that she wanted to move to another place. She told me that the town was driving her crazy. I was shocked, at first, but I have to admit the residents didn't seem to like her presence in various places. My heart squeezed, I had to do something. I shouldn't talk to the citizens; nothing will change if I do that.-

Wow. The Scout oddly felt himself frowning at the page, wondering what the Spy would do if his girlfriend wasn't doing well in town. Wanting to know the solution to the problem Judy suffered, his eyes began to scan thoroughly through the words:

-I told her if she really wanted to move. She said yes. I asked her if she wanted me to move with her.
Alright, I confess that it was too sudden to ask that question. But I loved her, actually. She stared at me with wide eyes, speechless and unsure of what to say. I asked her the same question: would it help if I were to move with her? Perhaps so that she wouldn't feel so... lonely? The blush in her cheeks hinted a 'yes', but it could also mean a 'no'.

Judy looked at her side. Her coffee was becoming chilled. She then whispered something that was inaudible. I couldn't hear it, but I looked at her lips. It was a yes. It was definitely a yes. A yes telling me that it would help if I moved with her. She said yes. She wanted me to move in with her. I held her hand; it was lying cold and motionless on the table and when I touched it, a tingle sensation ran through me. Such a poor woman, she was. I told her we could move somewhere, somewhere with nice people who would acknowledge her stay.

We discussed where Judy would like to stay. There are many places in America that it was hard to choose. Nevertheless, I described every city I could think of. She was interested in one town and asked me if I liked that name. Of course, I agree to any name she requested.

Boston, Massachusetts. It was perfect.

The Scout blinked. Boston? That was where he lived! Did the Spy live in his hometown once? He pictured a Spy, without his mask, roaming around through town with Judy, arm in arm. It was sweet, but creepy at the same time. He shuddered. Slowly flipping the pages again, he skipped to one of the last entries. In an overview it was probably about the Spy and Judy's experience in Boston. He promised himself that this was going to be the last entry he wanted to see. Just a few minutes before lunch break ends.

Surely he would have just enough time to have a final read:

29th August

Boston was certainly perfect. Judy was having a good time; there been people who liked her. She liked them too and so did I.
Also, the ring I bought for Judy had cost a fortune. Nevertheless, I would do whatever it takes to make her happy. Judy wanted to know where I got that diamond-sparkle ring but I kept it a secret. Perhaps I will tell her when our son will be waiting for us at the hospital.-

So Spy was already married that time. There was nothing wrong with that. The Scout had never been in love nor was he married. He couldn't imagine what his reaction was if he was a husband and heard that his wife was pregnant. He was an inexperienced man of the world... for now. He wondered what the name the Spy would pick for his son. He skipped a few paragraphs as the entry was two pages long. The Scout read:

There was our baby son in Judy's arms, wrapped in towels and playing with her finger. I couldn't hide my smile because this was the child we made; the child we own. He had that face that looked like Judy's: the same pair of twinkling eyes and the cheery smile. I walked over to the two, and sat down on the chair. Judy looked at me and smiled with tears in her eyes. I felt my eyes water when I looked at my own son's face.

Keith... that was the only word I mouthed.

"May I ask what are you holding in your hands?"

"A-Ah!" The Scout had almost dropped the book. He whipped around to find the RED Spy folding him arms with a smirk curved at his lips. His eyes twinkled dangerously, demanding to know what the Scout had found in his book. The Scout gulped; he shouldn't have read the book. He shouldn't have and now he knew the secret. He wanted to erase that name from his mind. He felt like throwing the book in the Spy's face and fleeing like a scared puppy. However, he was no trapped with nowhere to go.

The Scout furrowed his eyebrows in oblivious irritation. He was stunned; he wanted to rip his hair off. He had no idea what the Spy was hiding and this was the only time he got to find out the secret. He cried, "You called your son KEITH?"

The Spy was unimpressed by the Scout's shock. "Why, I don't see why you have to overreact over that name, Keith."

"Don't call me that!" The Scout snapped. "How could you date my mother? How could you DO my mother? Just what the hell were you thinking?" He didn't know what to say and all those words he didn't want to blurt were spat out of his mouth, through all the mixed feelings in his heart. This was absolutely wrong; it broke the scale of the wrong. Nothing made sense at that moment. The Spy didn't care at all'; he only kept that smirk on his face.

"I wouldn't say that to my father if I were you..." He removed the cigarette from his mouth and blew a small ball of smoke. The Scout had to cover his mouth and look away to cough out the dusty smoke that almost went into his esophagus. The Scout had seen the nastiest entry he had ever seen and the writer of it seemed proud. The Spy sighed in disappoint as though the Scout didn't understand what he said. His shoulder bumped at the wall as he leaned on it, fingers on the forehead as he closed his eyes, "Ah, you found out? I thought your mother had already told you."

What told him? The Scout backed away, "What tell me? She didn't tell me ANYTHING! How should I know you were my daddy, huh?"

The Spy opened his eyes and he couldn't stifle his laughs. "Why, you didn't consider that: I don't kill you whenever you encounter me, I don't stop you when you steal the Intelligence - only leaving that job to the RED Scout and I occasionally call you as a 'son' whenever nobody was looking were hints that I was your father?"

That left the Scout to be silenced for a while. After a brief moment of awkward quietude, he tried to fight back, "Hey, I thought you said the sun, the SUNSHINE! And you're not really my father! Here, you book!" The Scout pressed the notebook into the Spy's chest, shoving past him and storming away. He planned to get a good bar of soap to wipe out everything from his mind. Hopefully, hopefully there was a bar of soap waiting for him. He didn't turn his head, but he shouted, "You're NOT my father, you hear me!"

"That will teach him not to go through my things again," The Spy laughed, taking out a baby picture from his sleeves and slipping it inside the book. "It's a good thing he didn't see this..."

A picture of the baby Keith wearing a baseball hat in a bathtub, presumably known as a miniature Scout was sticking out from the book.

EDIT: Oh yeah, this was a submission for a contest in some facebook thing I saw. PMed it to the host and I got first prize. :D Can't tell you his name because its so long. ...dang. I got a story in fictionpress as a prize :D It was awesome.