Chapter 1

Sniper's eyes fluttered opened and scrambled to grab his kukri from his nightstand as he knocked over his watch and other trinkets. He got up from his worn out mattress and shoved his boots on his feet forcefully. There was probably no time to put on his red shirt or dusty boots, and his guns are back at the supply cabinet. The half-naked Australian ran out of his camper van and stepped down onto the desert ground. The sun was barely out, yet the air was filled with sticky warmth and it smelled like soil even though the ground was just flat red-brownish rock with a few cacti scattered here and there. Beyond the horizon were massive boulders stacked high around the battlefield. Those could be great sniping spots.

He took a mental note and hurried to the base's garage. There was a single backdoor and it was attached to the garage, and this didn't bother the Aussie much until now. It was a short jog, thanks to his long legs, and he grabbed the brass doorknob. The knob wouldn't fully turn, much less budge. Locked. Sniper growled as his own incompetence to remember to bring keys with him at all times. He was going to curse under his breath, but his sharp ears heard another suspicious sound, but this time it was right behind this door. It sounded like something with weight was scraping across the floor, and then there was a quick metallic click. Sniper immediately recognized the latter sound and a terrifying thought dawned on him. That was Spy's lighter…but was it our Spy?

Sniper gripped his kukri tighter until his knuckles were paler than his lightly tanned skin. He backed away from the door and raised a slender leg. Aiming carefully, Sniper swiftly kicked under the doorknob where the lock mechanics were. The door swung wide opened on impact, and he rushed into the garage. Nothing was out of place, tools and blueprints were lined neatly on the workbench and the truck was parked besides the garbage cans. There was a nauseating paint smell, but that has always been here in the new base. He could careless at the moment; all of his focus was toward that a BLU member was in their RED base. The Australian went through a door leading to the main building and a gush of cool wind blew in his face. It made the shirtless man shiver. Damn AC, it feels like the bloody Arctic in here!

He walked quickly but quietly down a dark hallway and passed the medical bay. Usually the blinding lights of the operation table would be on, but it was too early in the morning for today. Passing the empty kitchen on the right, Sniper went left at a corner to the lounge room. It was a nice area, there was one of those fancy show boxes, a large enough couch to fit three Heavies, and plenty of room for poker fights. Although resting here was ideal, the Aussie had no time for that now. What woke him up was definitely what he thought he heard and he ran up the stairs by the Engineer's room.

There was another hallway but much longer than the first with wooden doors firmly closed shut, except one. The nameplate plastered on it read "Spy's Room."

Knew it.

All the possibilities raced in his mind as Sniper approached the Frenchman's room. He tipped toed in, and couldn't help but stare and gawk. They weren't at their main base, yet there was a fancy stone fireplace complete with a fancy armchair and a fancy Persian rug and fancy sounding books in fancy bookshelves. Typical Spook, what deals did he strike with the Administrator?

There was a thick scent of cologne, and it made the Sniper's nose twitch. His perfume is god awful! Smells just like him!

But there was a hidden scent lingering around, and the professional killer picked it up despite the cologne's effort to cover it.

Gunpowder, that gunshot was probably from the BLU Spy's revolver.

Sniper saw two other doors on the far wall, and one of them had light emitting from the crack at the bottom. He steadily went toward the lit room, gripping his kukri with his bare hand. Without hesitating, the shirtless Australian burst in where the Spy was standing over a toilet with its seat up. Sniper pointed his knife's tip at the back of his teammate's vest and he was frozen in place. Right away, the Aussie noticed the Frenchman's greying, black hair. He also took notice at a red rubber balaclava and gloves lying limply by the side of the porcelain sink.

"You're…not bald after all."

"Bushman, I know you relieve yourself with jars, but that doesn't mean everyone else does. Now drop your knife, I can feel it poking my backside."

"R-Right," stammered Sniper as he pulled his knife back. It was extremely awkward, and having no shirt on wasn't helping. At least Spy couldn't see him topless.

"Can you leave me to my business?"

"Sure, yeah, I'll just go-"

Spy's loosened pants gave away and plopped down to the bathroom tiles. His tighty whities and smooth shaved legs became exposed. No amount of professional training could've prepared Sniper in a situation like this.

"Er…" the Aussie was at a loss for words.

"Get out," Spy hissed as he pulled up his pants desperately.

Sniper didn't have to be told twice and he backed out and slammed the bathroom door in front of him. He stared at the door and heaved a huge sigh. On the door, there was a plate labeled in thick, bold words, "W.C."

"Bloody hell," the Australian cursed under his breath.

A/N: Please tell me if I should continue! Also other feedback is greatly appreciated~