Hello everyone! This is the first chapter of the new and improved 'Story of a Mask.' New readers I hope you like the story and old readers I hope you like this more than the old story! So enjoy!

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"Francis, What's under ya mask?"

The Spy's eyes rose from the newspaper he'd been reading, quickly glancing at the boy in front of him before sighing. "Zhat is non' of your business, Avery." The Frenchman mumbled.

Pursing his lips, the Scout tapped his fingers against the table. Minutes pass with neither saying anything. The Scout's eyes roamed the room of which they sat; the kitchen- which usually was bustling with activity at this time in the morning- was surprisingly quiet. The Scout could only presume the team were taking full advantage of their day off; not even the Heavy woke as the aroma of pancakes drifted from the kitchen.

Their Medic wasn't even awake; a man who prided himself in his punctuality, the Scout had a hard time believing he was still asleep. Though, he wasn't going to burst into the man's room to check. He'd learnt that the hard way.

Lets just say- he will never look at the Sniper and Medic the same way ever again.

Not to say he was particularly close with them. No, he wasn't close with anyone on his team. Well, beside the Spy and Pyro.

When he'd first joined the RED team, nobody would go near him, they avoided him like the plague. To them, he was just another Scout. Somebody to distract the other team whilst everyone else did the hard work. Little did any of them expect him to be able to sneak into the BLU base, take the Intel and sneak back out with absolutely no wounds whatsoever.

No normal Scout would have done it. No normal Scout could have done it, but that's were Avery differed. He wasn't a normal Scout, unlike them; he was a tactical thinker.

Whilst his BLU counterpart would run into the RED base, run back out and immediately cry for the Engineer to build him a dispenser. Avery could put two and two together and managed to take the Intel without alerting the BLU team or their sentry guns.

It's safe to say his team was impressed.

In fact, that evening was the first time his team even acknowledged his existence. They congratulated him, asked him how he did it. All the usual things; Avery didn't know how to respond to the attention, he'd pretty much been ignored since he'd started and hadn't had so much as a full conversation with any of his team.

So Avery did the only thing he could think of.

He excused himself and went off to his room.

He didn't expect anyone to come knocking on his door and he really didn't expect their Pyro to be standing there. Without his mask on and in his hands two plates of stew.

It was the start of a good- albeit strange- friendship.

He and the Spy never really talked that much either, but like the Pyro, they didn't need to. The Scout saw him as a father figure and admired the respect the Spy commanded. Every time he entered a room, everyone took notice. He could control the team better than anyone else- though the Pyro was a close second. The Scout admired both men more than anything.

Which didn't help the Scout's burning curiosity.

"So... What is unda ya mask?" He repeated.

A frown spread across the Frenchman's face. "I told you. Zhat is non' of your business."

The Scout lowered his head to rest it on the table. "Can't ya just tell me?" He pleaded half-heartedly.

Sighing, Francis lowered his paper. He raised his hand and placed on the boys head; gently ruffling his hair- a gesture the Scout had become accustomed to. "Avery. Why do you care what is under my mask?"

"I dunno." The Scout mumbled into the table.

A smile tugged at the corners of the Frenchman's mouth. "Mon petit lapin... What ever will I do with you?"

The Scout didn't reply, instead opting to stare at the table.

Another sigh left the Spy's lips. "Tell you what." He paused. "If you stop sulking, I'll show you what is under my mask."

The Scout sat bolt upright, staring in disbelief at the Frenchman. "Really?"

Francis reached for his jacket pocket and pulled out his cigarette case, opening it and picking one out. "When ze need arises, of course." Francis added; lifting the cigarette to his lips.

The Scout's body sagged; his eyebrows furrowed together. "Dat's like sayin' ya never gonna show me." He moaned, his head fell and hit the table again.

"Avery, sit up." The Spy ordered, shaking the others shoulder.

Begrudgingly; the Scout sat up, a frown plastered on his face. "I said I would show you my face, you just 'ave to wait awhile." The Spy reassured.

The Scout thought for a moment. "Yeah, well I don't feel like waitin'." He muttered before standing. The Spy raised an eyebrow as he watched the boy leave the room.

"And zhere I thought you 'ad ze patience of a saint." He called after him.

The Scout stopped at the doorway, looking back to the table where the Frenchman sat. "I do 'ave the patience of a saint." He stated. "But even saints can lose dere patience."

"So, what are you going to do zhen?" He asked.

Avery looked at his feet. What could he do? He couldn't just run up to Francis and pull off his balaclava. For starters that would piss the Frenchman off to eternity. No, he'd need to find an easier target. Somebody who wouldn't suspect a sneak attack.

And that's when it hit him.

"Dat's none of ya business." He said, mimicking the Frenchman's accent.

Francis smiled. "Touché Avery."

With a nod, the Scout left the room, leaving the Frenchman alone with his thoughts. He reached for his paper, opening it on the page he'd been on.

...

Well I hoped you like the prologue of the story! :3

If you spot any mistakes please tell me and I'll correct them. :)

*EDIT* - I have changed a few lines, and taken out the bit at the end. Sorry for the inconvenience. :3 xx