Sniper was aiming out the window, as per usual. The morning was chilly, and it had persuaded him to put on an extra shirt, and bring a cloth to wipe the dew from his windowed, secluded tower. His coffee cup was to the side, steaming and smelling up the whole room he stayed up in. The tower room had this dark scent, and it was nice. Jarate was also to the side, bottled up and ready to use for later, and sealed tightly to avoid spillage and the smell burning into the wood. No thanks. Coffee and piss didn't exactly smell aromatic.
A shuffle behind him caused him to immediately spin around, pointing the gun as fast as possible behind him, eyes trained to focus in less than a second. Standing behind him had been the usual appearance of blue-clad Spy, with his butterfly knife poised to stab him in the side. In seconds, the man was savagely fighting the Frenchman, his cigarette having fallen into the wood as soon as the Frenchman pulled out his revolver. The two wrestled instantaneously, machete versus the butt of the revolver to knock the other out and steal provisions, stab the fucker, or if you were Spy, take their identity and stroll around.
Sniper wasn't having it. He kept himself steady, his machete having already fallen from his belt with the help of the nimble fingers of the stupid BLU man. Having watched it spin to the side only made him use the entirety of his rifle, attempting to shove it into the throat as soon as he could roll the spy over.
The Sniper only stopped when he felt the butterfly knife kiss him below the belt, causing him to stiffen. Spy put this time to use and held the revolver to the thick Adam's apple of the Australian. Sniper growled, seeing that the damned masked man still had his cigarette lodged delicately between his teeth, while Sniper's had burned out on the ground. "Checkmate. Now, I'm going to ask you one thing, bushman. You should be thankful I'm asking, as I could be much. More. Brutal."
Sniper cringed, feeling the Spy pressed his dagger even more into his groin. "Are you askin' me to remove my clothes? Isn't that a little too...gay fer ya?" This seemed to not even bring an eye twitch to the masked spy.
"Yes. Would you kindly undress yourself so I can sneak into your enemy base?" The revolver dug in harder, making sure that the sniper had to momentarily wheeze. "Do it now." The Austrailian made a snort and then rapidly slammed his elbow into the spy's nose.
"Maybe once you're in hell, you wanker!" Once again, they were wrestling, and no longer on the floor, but trying to beat each other into the wall. Sniper felt all air escape his lungs and he moved to headbutt the fucker straight in the forehead. But he missed. He missed terribly.
The two looked at each other for a moment, realizing that the Sniper's chapped lips were upon the smooth mouth of that Frenchman. The bushman could taste the soft hint of wine on his tongue for just a moment before he pulled away, head hitting hard into the wall.
"I didn't intend to kiss you." The Frenchman was stunned for a moment and then snorted. "Says the man who made a galore of "gay" jokes."
"Oh shut the hell up and stab me already, goddamnit."