Story Notes: You love him, you hate him, he's the slimiest snake to ever put a knife in your back, and he's such a mysterious character that many can't help but wonder what secrets and depths lie beneath the mask. He's such a fun character to write about!

Believe it or not, the inspiration for this story came from a dream. The drive to create it came from my lovely friend and wonderful beta, put your hands together for, penguinlove2506! Without her enthusiasm, love of writing, and confidence in my somewhat scatterbrained writing skills, this story would not be.
You can see her works at: penguinlove2506. deviantart

CYA: Valve stuff belongs to Valve. All original characters belong to me. This story is quite obviously fiction. Any resemblance of characters, places, organizations, and things to any aspect real life is coincidental. For the tropers: no anvils were intentionally dropped, and I attempted to avoid Mary Sues.

Happy reading, all.

Spy tapped his fingers on the counter impatiently as he waited for the clerk to finish locking up the cigarette cabinet. Six dollars a pack! But he was out and the supply train wouldn't be coming for another week, so he had to come into town. It was highway robbery, and he had no other option.

A boy ran past him, no older than ten, and he heard the mother scold him as he careened into Spy's legs, yelped at Spy's growl, and ran down another aisle, his mother yelling at him to go play outside with his frisbee as she rounded the corner by the register. The bell jingled merrily as the door opened, and the woman stiffened as a man entered, looking furious and clutching something in his hand.

The woman wrung her hands nervously, eyeing him. "Mr. Jackson, a small world, isn't it?" flinching as he looked at her.

"Shut up! Don't give me any of that! You see what this is?" he roared, thrusting what looked like a pregnancy test into the cowering woman's face, causing her to back up. "You see this? Huh?"

Spy cut in, "Monsieur, may I ask you to calm down and step away?"

Jackson glared at him, walking forward until he was towering over the Spy. "Shut up, you!" he barked, then turned to the woman again. "Positive! You dirty little liar! You said it wouldn't be a problem!"

The terrified woman shrank away from him, and tears began streaming down her face. "I'm sorry! You wouldn't listen, and I can't afford - "

The man hissed through his the teeth, and interrupted her. "Excuses, excuses Elizabeth! If it weren't for me you would be nothing. And this is how you repay me? Do you know what this is going to do to me? Especially when my wife finds out?"

Spy slipped in between them, "I am afraid zhis conversation is getting out of hand. Last time I ask you to - "

The man pulled out a gun, and aimed it in Spy's face, growling, "I said shut up, frenchy."

"No!" Elizabeth screamed as she lunged at Jackson from the side, forcing his arm down and right as he pulled the trigger. The gun fired into her abdomen as Jackson threw her to the ground.

Spy moved quickly, grabbing the staggering man in a one armed lock and pressing the blade his balisong to the carotid artery while blocking his line of sight to Elizabeth. "Be still, saleté."

Jackson tried to shove Spy aside and grab for his dropped gun. Spy kicked it away and shoved the blade in and out under his jaw, all in one fluid motion. He dumped the man to the floor as Jackson bled out quickly, dying in seconds. People were screaming, but all of that didn't matter when a little whirlwind sprinted past him to the woman on the ground, shrieking "Mom? Mom!"

Spy knelt down next to the woman in the spreading pool of blood, regretting the blood on his suit, but he had to move quickly. He ripped up part of Jackson's shirt, pressing it to the wound with one hand and shaking the kid with the other. "Kid? Kid! Listen to me!"

The boy stopped panicking and looked at him with tears flowing down his face, "Mom's hurt!"

The frenchman removed his hand and used it to support Elizabeth, "You want to save her?" he asked as he quickly motioned to the register. "Call zhe police! Move!" The boy frantically scurried off to find a phone. Elizabeth looked up at the Spy, her eyes drowsy and half open.

"Take care of him," she whispered.

Spy blanched. "Mademoiselle? Stay awake! Help is coming! S'il vous plaît!" His voice cracked slightly.

He cradled her in his arms, staunching the bleeding. He held her as the boy talked to the operator on the phone. He held her as the sirens wailed. But as the paramedics rushed to save her life, he had to let her go.

-Two Days Later-

The messenger was waiting in his room, as he knew it would be. Nevertheless, he shut the door and lit a cigarette before regarding the man coolly.

"So, to what do I owe zhis pleasure?" he said, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

The man in the hat said nothing, shrugging open his coat to reveal the television strapped to his chest. The television flickered into life, and the Administrator glared at him over steepled fingers, her cigarette burning but never seeming to produce ash.

"You astound me, Spy," she said dryly. "You are able to infiltrate closed organizations and extract classified information, yet you are unable to read a newspaper?"

On cue, the messenger produced a paper from his pocket, tossing it to Spy. The headline read: Mysterious Good Samaritan Saves Woman. The accompanying picture showed the small store, covered in police tape. Further down the page, another article was headed by the words: School In Shock In Wake of Coach's Attack, with a picture of Jackson.

Spy studied the paper for a few seconds before calmly asking, "And zhe woman? She is still alive, no? I understand zhe need to maintain a low profile, madame, but it would seem that events conspired against me."

The Administrator narrowed her eyes. "Indeed. Not only have you failed to maintain a low profile, even if you evaded the media, you are also threatening the terms of your contract. Saving a woman is one thing; what you are doing now is quite another. In the span of two days you have managed to waltz your way into the school, present a flawless and convincing resume, charm all of the administrators, and become a substitute coach on the school staff. Not only that, but you have also become this boy's 'chaperone'. What were you thinking?" Her voice rose slightly in anger, and her mouth pulled into a scowl.

Spy smiled faintly; that resume had taken several hours to forge. "Let me assure you madame, I have used zhe utmost discretion and will continue to do so. I will make sure that zhis does not interfere with our contract or my duties and obligations to zhe company. This is merely a favor done to zhe woman, as she asked me to watch after her son."

"And you mean to do that by pretending to be a coach for the boy?" she scoffed. "Playing this," she stopped and looked off screen, "what was it called?" Miss Pauling murmured something in reply, and she returned her gaze to Spy. "Ah, yes, Ultimate. Do you even know how to play this so-called sport?" she asked.

"Of course, Madame Administrator." Spy said smoothly, while his mind said, I'll learn fast. "And I will ensure that zhe practice times are during ceasefire. On my honor I promise that zhis will not affect my performance on zhe battlefield, and that it will only be for zhe rest of zhe time we are stationed here."

The Administrator's eyebrows rose a fraction. "Honor? From a Spy? Hmph. However," and Spy froze in anticipation of judgement, "I will permit this little dalliance if only as a source of entertainment. Rest assured that the very second you breach your contract you will be dealt with. Permanently."

Spy bowed gracefully. "Magnanimous as ever, Madame Administrator," he said as he opened the door and the messenger turned to leave. Spy watched him turn the corner of the hallway before closing the door and leaning against it, sighing in relief and closing his eyes.

He opened them and looked at the newspaper, sighting on a random line as he willed his heartbeat to slow.

Investigations have concluded that Greg Jackson confronted Miss Elizabeth Locklin upon discovering that she was pregnant with his child and would not to abort the baby. His wife was unavailable for an interview, but told reporters that she suspected that her former husband was engaging in an affair. She further commented that he was often impulsive and refused to take no as an answer.

Spy narrowed his eyes, scanning the rest of the article.

Jackson filled the position of assistant coach at the local middle school, providing leadership for the school's football, basketball, and ultimate frisbee teams. Replacements have been found for the basketball and football teams, but it is unknown whether the ultimate team will be able to survive the loss of their sole coach. Applicants for the position may talk to Secretary Marcy Garthen to apply for the position of substitute coach until the end of the year. In a statement released by the school, "We are all shocked and saddened by this turn of events."

Spy snorted, smiling. There had only been one other applicant, and it was all too easy to ensure that he was unfit for the position. He looked at the main article.

Witnesses say that the man in the mask was held at gunpoint for attempting to calm the situation between Miss Locklin and Jackson, and that Miss Locklin attempted to intervene, throwing herself on Jackson to prevent him from killing the man. Jackson shot Miss Locklin and turned to fight the masked man, and in the struggle Jackson received a fatal neck wound. Miss Locklin has been transferred to Pin Hospital, and she is expected to recover from her extensive injuries. An anonymous donation has been made to the hospital in her name, and in a statement doctors told reporters that someone with the injuries she sustained would be unable to have children, but that she is otherwise expected to regain her health.

Well. He should have expected that. She would have fewer reminders of the painful attack, but he knew all too well that a bullet wound would stay with you forever.

Soon after the attack, the masked man disappeared into the crowd, and little to nothing is known about this mysterious benefactor. Anyone with information on the man is encouraged to contact the Journal.

Spy placed the newspaper on the table, shaking his head. He knew that if this much was printed in the paper, that it was only because Miss Pauling had allowed it to be. She was very straightforward in clearing up witnesses that had seen too much. He heard a voice bellow in the distance, calling everyone to dinner. It was Engineer's turn, and as long as he was kept away from the spice cabinet his food was mostly edible. Spy straightened his tie and walked out towards the kitchen.

"Yo, frog legs!" Scout called out as he entered, joining the rest of the team. Spy breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of brisket, beans, and corn bread. It was an uncultured meal, but he would accept anything that did not leave him crying in the bathroom.

Spy sighed. "What do you want, Scout?"

"Did'ya really do what Miss Pauling said you did?" Scout asked. "The Administrator's gonna be freakin' pissed, but that was awesome! Divin' in to save the day, who knew you had it in ya, frenchy? It must be rubbin' off'a me. But why'd ya do it? Man, the Administrator is gonna chew you out for that, I swea-

"Scout! Mein Gott, give ze man a chance to speak! Vhat really happened, Spy?" Medic said.

"Report, Private!" Soldier barked. "Any intelligence that we do not have cannot become the property of the enemy!" Everyone paused for a moment as they tried to digest this statement.

Spy sighed; it was too late to make an escape now that he had their full attention. Even Sniper was listening, choosing to eat his meal in the corner instead of returning to his van. The only sounds were Heavy's breathing and Engie putting a pot in the sink.

Spy sat down with his food. "I bought cigarettes, and a woman and her son were being attacked by a man in the store. I intervened and she was shot in zhe process. Zhe man is no longer a problem, and she will recover. I have already talked with zhe Administrator," he said curtly.

Sniper leaned forward. "That can't be all, mate. What about the lad? Who's going to keep an eye on him?"

"Zhe boy will be fine," he replied. His mother is in zhe hospital, not dead. I am sure that there are neighbors and friends zhat can help." And me, if I can help it, Spy thought.

Through mouthful of food, Scout said, "But seriously man, how did'ya get off the hook? The Administrator's not about to let us go aroun' flashin' our weapons and drawin' attention. Whad'ya do to get her off your-

"This is stupid baby talk," Heavy interrupted. "The woman and boy are safe. Spy not in trouble. We now talk about important things, like who broke window in bathroom. Scout?

"Hey! It wasn't me, big guy!"

"Huddah hurr! Huda mhur hur huda!"

"Och lad, yah did it last time, yah might know who did it this time," Demo said.

Finishing the rest of his meal, Spy washed his plate and left it by the sink, slipping away as the others debated about who really broke the window. They would surely notice his departure, but the shouting that would inevitably take place would give him a headache that he wished to avoid. And beyond that, he had more important issues at hand, like practicing this sport that he would now be teaching children how to play. This… game of frisbees. On the way back to base he had purchased a few frisbees in a local store, and he meant to make good use of the ceasefire.

Chapter Notes: The reference to the Administrator's cigarette is from "Comfort Eagle", a song by Cake. Don't smoke, kids. Everyone thinks that it won't kill them, that they're immortal. But smoking doesn't just hurt you. It hurts everyone around you, especially the ones that you love.