I was always curious about the identity of our Pyro. It's gender a constant mystery. Each day the unknown being would do something that would make me so sure that I had it's gender all figured out and then in that same day, it would make me unsure.

Just the other day the Pyro wrapped this thick, and quite obviously handmade, scarf, our team colour, around the Scout's neck just minutes before battle began. The mouthy Boston protested, issuing profanity as he tried to tear the pale blue item from his neck.

The swift hit to the back of his skull and the scolding mumbles that filtered through the Pyro's mask were quick to silent the rowdy youth. The Scout mumbling thanks before rushing away before another blow was aimed at him.

So obviously, the Pyro was female, non?

Well, when the battle ended. I found the Pyro hauled up inside the Engineer's Workshop, sawing and welding it's shotgun. The Engineer admiring the masked figure's handiwork as he tinkered with his own metal masterpieces.

So perhaps the Pyro is actually male then?

Then when I entered the canteen for dinner that very evening, the Pyro was cooking away in the attached kitchen, filling the room with the aroma of home cooking. The Scout actually being obedient enough to be helping the firebug cook.

So I had two ideas in the unknown identity of the Pyro. One being that the Pyro is a homosexual male, who has a way with knitting needles. The other, that the Pyro is in fact a very feisty woman who knows how to use a gun.

I like the sound of the last one most.

So eventually I can't take the suspense much longer. The mind-numbing enigma that is the Pyro cannot be solved by observation alone. I must stake out in a place it will let it's guard down, and I can finally uncover the secret that has been wracking my brain since laying eyes on the faceless entity.

So a few nights later and after much deliberation, I hid out inside the Pyro's room. The door was locked, but the lock was far too easy for me to pick, and with a few twists, the lock clicked. I looked around to make sure no one was around before slipping inside and closing the door, allowing it to give a soft click as it relocked itself.

Looking around, the room was bare of any personal effects. A basket of blue, green and white yarn sat beside the bed. The bedside table littered with novels, some romance others adventure.

I had just attempted to pick lock one of the bedside draws when I heard the rattle of a key in the bedroom door. Quickly I activated my cloak and pressed myself into the side the locked wardrobe.

The door flew open as the Pyro trudged in, letting out a long yawn that was audible through its mask, before shutting the door and twisting the lock. Once it was done, the masked being stretched, the sound of bones cracking unheard over the squeak of the asbestos suit.

I remember holding my breath as I watched the Pyro fiddle with its mask, unlatching it before throwing it to the ground. I also remember having to clamp my lips together when I saw the person beneath it.

She was a raven haired beauty. Her hair in a 60's bob, a pale blue alice band standing out in stark contrast with her dark hair. Her skin slightly tanned but seeming pale beside her rich, black hair and if he could see correctly, she had the same high cheekbones, slender nose and ice blue eyes of the Scout.

I would have believed it even if I hadn't seen her stunning picture in the Scout's file, back when the RED Spy infiltrated the base.

The Pyro was in fact the BLU Scout's Mother.