Beginning Author's Note: This is slow, but fast. Descriptive, and vague. :/ I didn't have a plot outline, I just started writing, so it may have some tinny-tiny holes. Hope you enjoy. May have errors. You've been warned!

November

It was the middle of November, though it only felt like it was just beginning to Medic. Light breezes made the trees often shake, and mercenaries stay inside. It wasn't that cold outside, but they always looked for excuses for a day off.

Scout sat on a red rug staring into a television set. Just another re-run of M*A*S*H. Scout started thinking about how without Medic, he never would've tolerated his new favorite television show.

Scout had a red scarf loosely wrapped around his neck, and a cooling cup of hot chocolate nested in his hands, while they rest on his knees. Every few minutes Scout would take a very slow sip of the cocoa, tilting the cup up so gently. And when the liquid finally touched his lips, he'd recoil away. He repeated this every commercial break.

Medic walked inside the common room, with his own mug of hot liquid. He stared at the television for some time, chuckling at the show. Scout had already seen this episode probably three times, containing his laughter wasn't too hard. And given what had happened recently in October, Scout wasn't sure he would laugh again. But he was wrong, his laughing days aren't over, Medic would just have to get other things into his mind.

October

It was a somewhat warm day in the red base, Medic had been healing the Heavy, just waiting for an übercharge. The enemy has our intelligence! Helen would boom.

"Damnit, Engineers." Medic muttered. Red Spy appeared behind him.

"Well, do something about it, Medic!" Spy sneered.

Ever since the last week of September, red Spy and Medic had stopped being friends, they hated each each other.

It happened when Spy said taxes for cigarettes were getting raised for a while- the damn prick smokes at least four packs a day- He had supplies reduced so he could take all saved money for the cigarettes. Medic had offered to help Spy quit, or just cut down, but he refused. A few days later, either the taxes went up, or Spy feared this, he started stocking up on cigarettes, half the red pantry is full of boxes, he'd rather cut his left hand off than share. Eventually Spy wanted more to last him the winter, and started selling things. Soon enough, all Medic's doves were missing.

Now in October, Medic and Spy have been fighting like little children, and towards the middle of the month, Medic was done with Spy.

He contemplated for hours, who should aide him with this heavy task, he decided on Scout. He was easy to convince, stupid, naïve; he was the perfect one.

He had walked into Scout's Quarters, there he was examining many of his baseball merchandise.

"Scout, I need to speak to you about Spy." He said shutting the door then locking it.

How hard can this be?