Lucia di Lammermoor
Summary:
First fan fiction….
I OWN NOTHING!
©2007 Valve [TF2]
About:
Random Drabble as an excuse for first fanfic. Hur hur hur.
Snipes and terrible OC of mine.
Sorry!
June 24th, 1968
The summer sun rose on the deserted, abandoned coal shafts of the badlands. Creaking replaced the cricket's nightly hymn of the cold night. In a roost at the top of a wooden slab, the RED Sniper rose from his slumber, peering out at the bright rays of the morning, he grumbled as he sat up. His back popping in several places as he did so.
He heard little as he walked into the kitchen to grab his all-day 'fuel' that saved the team many times. The brew seemed to awaken some of the other mercenaries as the team's Engineer walked in also, greeting the tall Aussie.
"Mornin' partner," he beamed.
Sniper grumbled in response.
The Engineer smiled as the brew Sniper had offered and sipped on it lightly. Engineer stood at an awkward pose, Sniper noticed this as he then asked,
"Anything wrong?"
Engineer looked up to the towering Aussie then looked back to his cup. Dumbfounded and bewildered, Sniper leaned against the cabinet and over-head cupboards as he seen the Engineer choke out four simple words.
"Spy's in the hospital."
The Engineer's earlier lightened mood suddenly changed as he told the Sniper. Sniper, not a full-on friendly person, found some interest in the French-native's sudden removal. Engineer then spilled the story, what time? 'Bout eleven last night, what of? Don't know yet.
"So are they going to hold stalemate until he gets back?" Sniper asked
"I figure, but I don't quite know yet," Engineer replied as he finished the last of his coffee and headed back to where he was camped at the previous night.
Sniper did the same also, returning to his roost, putting on the last night's clothing. Finding no time to wash in the desert in the middle of a war. The fabric had cooled in the night, making the Aussie's skin prickle as he shrugged on the clothes. Suddenly, the Administrator boomed over the speakers in the desert.
"Mission in 60 minutes."
The RED mercenary's groans could reach Sniper in his roost, Sniper himself complained. Knowing without the Spy, they didn't stand too much of a chance. But, in either way, he still readied up. Grabbing his most cherished sniper. Polished the barrel and cleansed the lens. Packing the ammo into his vest's pockets, he stood ready.
"Mission in 5 seconds."
By the end of the day, Sniper's finger ached as he walked down to the kitchen, looking for some form of meal that was usually skipped by the Aussie everyday. As he walked into the small cooking space, he seen the Spy with another person, a woman. Sniper, not seeing too many in the Badlands -unless prostitutes- stood in awe at the feminine figure aiding the Spy.
"You need to eat Uncle," she spoke softly, a light Italian accent brushing her rose lips.
"Non. I refuse," Spy spat out, "not until you leave."
The woman then stood up, her forearms in the air, signaling surrender. Sniper then hastened to the kitchen as she started to leave.
"Mate, don't be a dick 'round the lady," Sniper said ineptly.
The tired-looking Spy then gave the Aussie a glare as he then huffed and looked away. He muttered under his breath simple insults only given in French. The Sniper then looked at the rather surprised woman as she looked to the Sniper.
"Sorry for budging into your conversation like that," Sniper gawkily stood back several inches.
"Nessun problema," she mused.
"So, you're Spy's niece?"
"Sí."
Sniper could feel the twenty daggers staring into his back as he then started to move closer to the Italian woman, she stared at the Sniper with mild amusement. Even Spy seemed the littlest gladdened as he saw the 'professional' talk so awkwardly towards one single woman.
"So," Sniper paused, "What's your name?"
The Italian froze, then looked at the Sniper, then to the Spy, he nodded.
"Ester,"
