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A cheerful whistle came from the rafters above her, a slight tapping of a foot joining it. Smiling to herself knowingly, the BLU Spy looked up, brushing away an errant blonde lock.

"Oh Sniper…" she murmured. "What are you singing now?" Her voice had the French lilt to it that her male counterpart shared, though the similarities almost ended there. Whilst the RED Spy had no qualms about backstabbing the BLU's, this Spy preferred to sit with a select few and simply speak. It was still distracting them from the battle, removing them from play, so to speak, so no one - save for the BLU Sniper of course, damn her - could say she wasn't doing her job. In fact, the RED Sniper's record for shooting had dropped significantly since she'd shown up and commandeered his attention.

She made her way to the stairs and hesitated only a moment. There were no sounds of the Engineer, the scent of cigarettes was not in the air, and nor was there the constant movement indicating the presence of their Scout. Up the stairs she went, and there he was, standing beside the window, foot tapping, whistling, face stuck to the scope like his head was to that hat. She could stand there all day and stare at his patient, joyful form, and he'd be none the wiser. She could slip her knife between his ribs, and only in the respawn would he realise what had happened, and perhaps give off that little chuckle of his, fix the hat - or perhaps she would have taken it from him, in that last moment of life, so that when he returned to his nest, as it were called, then he'd have to take it from her.

Not that she would give it back so easily. She'd demand a song in return, or perhaps two, but one would blend into another as he sang in that wonderful relaxing voice of his and the day would bleed away as they sat together, until the horns sounded, perhaps even past, though she never outstayed her welcome, and her company was always appreciated by the gunner.

The crack of his rifle brought her back to the moment and she smiled at his smirk. A successful headshot? She hoped it hit the BLU Sniper. In his triumph, he moved from simple whistling to full on singing, quietly of course, but it was still his voice, singing, and she reviled in its sound while she could. Still, his singing was always so much better when her head rested above his heart, hand on his chest, feeling the air enter his lungs, and leave again as that sound she loved. She stepped forwards, the temptation in her mind driving her onwards. She winced when her foot caught on a squeaky floorboard.

"G'day Spy."

She smiled then. " 'ow did you know?"

"Yer the only Spy I know that cloaks commin' in 'ere. Other one just walks in an' starts talking." He lifted his eyes from the scope and looked over at her. "Still hidin' ?"

She uncloaked for him, the smile still visible. "You were singing again. I heard you from downstairs, whistling. Eet is a wonder you 'ave not been found." While she spoke, she set down her revolver and knife on a nearby crate, going to perch near his side, glancing out the window.

"You managed ti find me just fine darlin'." His eye went back to the scope but was quickly retracted again when he felt her head touch his shoulder. "…Sheila you feelin' okay?"

"Fine, Sniper…just a little…tired."

He sighed and took off the hat, setting it down. "Alrigh', you got my attention, so tell me what the problem is."

"Zere is nothing ze matter with me."

"Course not. And I'm a girl. Speak."

She remained silent for a moment or two then lifted her head. "Sniper again."

"Tha' old bat. Just shot her too." He ducked his head, avoiding a shot as it buried itself in the wood behind him. "An' she's back."

"I noticed." she muttered dryly. "At any rate, I should stab her during ze night. Solve all my problems. And yours."

He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her down to the floor as a blue dot wandered over the wall to her left. "You'd be labelled a traitor and kicked out, and then where'd you go? Who'd keep me company in me nests?"

"You seemed to manage just fine with your hand before."

"…Tha' isn't funny." he frowned. The blue dot was gone now, and there was no need for them to be lying on the floor…but neither of them moved. His hand was still resting on her shoulder, slipping slightly down her arm, over the shirt's rolled up sleeve, calloused fingers brushing against her soft skin.

Her eyes watched from behind the ridiculous little face mask she wore, locked on the tanned hand on her arm, noticing the contrasts between them. Then he took her gloved hand in his, standing and pulling her up with him. He pulled too hard, though, and she fell against his chest. His free hand rested on the small of her back suddenly, not letting her pull away.

"Sniper-"

He let go abruptly, turning to the nest entrance. The RED Scout stood there, looking rather the worse for wear.

"Scout?"

"BLU Heavy man, had to get the fuck away, 'm staying here for a minute or two, right? Fat bitch can't get up here."

Sniper glanced at his side, where the BLU Spy had been. Now there was only air. He sighed and picked up his rifle. "Don't distract mi then."

Scout shrugged and plopped himself down in the corner, tapping the floor with his bat.

Sniper crouched by the window, cursing mentally.

Things were made better, however, by something soft and invisible tracing his jaw, and a French whisper in his ear, promising things. It was gone swiftly, though, and as he checked to ensure the Scout hadn't heard, lips pressed against his neck, and he jumped at the sudden contact.

"What's wrong Sniper?" Scout immediately inquired.

"…Nothing…nothing at all."