AN: So I've been dead for God knows how long. I had an extremely long writer's block. Basically, I've been spending my time playing more games rather than studying and writing. Haha. But it's good to submit on FF again

This is a little TF2 drabble. Basically consisting of random You X Class moments. Feel free to give suggestions and what not in the reviews. I have a preference for humor, as you can tell. :D

Moment I: Spy.

So let's say you were part of the team. You were pretty badass, actually. It's the 1950s, since when do females go out and carry a god damn gun around?

No matter; there was something called respawn if you died anyway.

On some days, the base was rather quiet. The opposing team, for some rather unknown reason, wouldn't lay a foot near your team's ground. Not that you minded of course. That day was simply one of those days.

Tugging the blanket to your chin, you tried to get some sleep that morning. Last night was terrible, nd you wish not to be reminding of it. Of course, being in a base full of men and shit simply preventing you from closing your eyes.

The god damn Heavy was storming down the hallways yelling some things in Russian whereas the Demoman was screaming something in Scottish.

Fuck, was the only word running through your head then, eyebrows twitching and frustration building up. Within 5 seconds, you threw the covers off of yourself and got off the bed hastily.

Okay, so the wake up call wasn't the best. The hallways were coated with burnt marks, possibly from Pyro's fiasco last night. Obviously, you're not cleaning that mess up. Hungry and rather tired, you made your way to the kitchen to hopefully find one of Heavy's sandvich or Scout's Bonk Energy Drink. Instead of a fucked up team, it was the sophisticated Frenchman sitting on the table, reading a newspaper with an empty plate beside him.

'Ah, what iz zee lady looking for today?' He asked, eyes not moving from the grey piece of paper. Another crash was heard followed by what seemed to be Medic giving out a howl. 'Just ignore zem.' Spy quickly said, before you yourself could say anything. 'You will get used to it.'

You gave a slight smile, thankful that there was at least one quiet person you can relate to in the base (except Sniper. All he ever did was lock himself in his own territory). 'Doesn't sound easy to get used to,' You replied, making you way to the white refrigerator. You opened it and gagged when your eyes caught a…raw intestine somewhere on the second rack.

'Like I said, it eez normal.' Spy reminded upon hearing you make a noise. This time, he turned his head to you. Both of you looked at each other for a moment, before you heard some sort of swishing from what appears to be the Pyro burning something. 'It's been a year, Spy. How am I going to get used to this?' You asked, trying to reach for a sandvich from the top rack, grumbling because it was simply too high for you. Spy sighed deeply, putting down his newspaper and making his way towards you. 'I'll get zat.'

Without time for you to move, you felt his breath on your ear as he trapped you between himself and the refrigerator as he effortlessly grabbed a sandvich. This was enough to cause you to blush mildly and you prayed Spy wouldn't notice.

Because you were blushing and standing rigid, he waved the sandvich in front of you comically. 'You are welcome,' He said rather impatiently, expecting you to give a reply. That got your attention, 'Oh, right. Thanks.' He gave a smirk before gently brushing your hair out of your eyes. You stared at him, and he stared back. Somehow, both of you were leaning in, for whatever reason. Not that you minded of course...

Bang! You jerked back and Spy sharply turned to the kitchen entrance. 'Shit, again?' He muttered, appearing rather annoyed by the unexpected interruption. You yourself felt your eyebrows strain slightly, wanting to slap the other members.

'I'll...deal with 'zem.' Spy sighed, placing his hands in pockets, 'Au revoir,' And before you could react, he stroked your hair rather lovingly before walking out of the room.

You stood there for a moment, stunned. The sandvich was still in your hands, and you felt yourself blush. You could hear your silly team members still shouting away like no tomorrow, a few gun shots and, for some reason, laughter. You smiled to yourself dreamily.

Maybe you could get used to this after all.