It wasn't the first time he had seen it. Sometimes it was only out of the corner of his eye… other times, it was right in front of him. And he was sure there were times he had seen it but he hadn't noticed, busy as he was, usually.
But, he was certainly noticing it more and more these days. Up until the point where his counterpart generally found himself riddled with bullets by the rest of the team, the BLU Pyros that were deployed against them tended to behave just as he would have. It was strange to watch what was essentially just a blue coloured version of yourself running around and all the while be thinking, 'I would have done exactly the same thing'.

It was no secret by now that every member of each class had more or less the same appearance. It had been creepy, at first, to only have the colour of someone's outfit determine who you were shooting at. But, no two were identical. For example, their Medic was a bit taller than the BLU one, and had bright blue eyes, as opposed to a sort of dusty grey. The RED Sniper had a deep scar on his left shoulder. The BLU Heavy had a slight hitch in his left knee, making his already hulking step jarred with the slightest of limps. And he himself was taller and more slender than the newest BLU Pyro, although by how much he wasn't sure; they hadn't really stood next to each other to see. And this latest one was doing a good job at not getting himself killed, which, he supposed was more of a similarity.

And it was these similarities that were drawing the RED Pyro's attention. If the RED team moved in one direction, the BLU Pyro responded. And in every situation, now that the RED Pyro was paying attention, the RED Pyro realised that had he been in that BLU's place, he would have reacted in exactly the same manner. And when it got to the point whereupon the latest BLU Pyro was the target of something most irritating; namely, the RED Demoman lifting his groin protection and shouting "KABOOM!" (Something that the RED Pyro couldn't stand him doing, and would very much like to set him on fire every time he did it) that the RED Pyro decided he wanted to look into it further.
Mostly because the BLU Pyro, much to his counterpart's great pleasure, pulled his flare gun, and aimed right at the smiley face taped to the Demoman's pants. The RED Pyro had to restrain the great peal of rather satisfied laughter as he moved towards the now hysterical and on fire Demoman to put him out with a blast of air from the end of his fondly named 'Degreaser'.
And he didn't dare flash the BLU Pyro a thumbs up; the distraction very may well find them both slightly more ventilated than usual, what with Snipers and Heavies being in the area.

Yes, he would very much like to look into it. Now all he needed was the opportunity.

His best bet for any sort of idea on how the other team operated was probably to talk to his rather smart BLU counterpart. The tricky part would be getting him alone… and not trying to kill him…. And willing to talk.
And to be honest, there weren't really any places in Hydro where he could corner the other Pyro without running the risk of being stumbled upon, and then, of course, made slightly less living. Wouldn't matter, in that situation, which team stumbled upon them; if it was the RED team, they'd kill the BLU and his plans would come to naught. If it was the BLU team, they'd kill him, and he could think of several reasons why that would not be good for him, and they were not all directly related to his plans.

But, luckily for him, the answer was practically handed to him in a RED envelope, in the form of Orders from the Board of Directors; Deployment Orders. Both teams were being moved out of Hydro to a new area, for reasons that the Suits didn't deign it appropriate to explain. But, none the less, they were shipping out. And it wasn't to an area anyone on the RED team had even heard of. It wasn't Hoodoos, it wasn't Dustbowl, it wasn't Granary. It was a completely new area.

The Administrator called it Ramparts.

When the RED team piled out of the Sniper's Van at an airport, the team had been slightly concerned. They'd been able to drive to where they were going just fine till now, even all the way to Cold Front and back, and the thought of needing to fly made some members uneasy. Just how far away was this Ramparts place?
But, the RED Pilot (who was dressed in a uniform so similar to theirs that he would have fit right in as another combat class, were there vehicle classes) simply smiled at them from behind his mirrored sunglasses.
"No worries, Chaps!" He said in a thick British accent as he stood waiting for them on the gangplank of a Helicopter Plane. "You're not going to any far reaches this time!"
The Sniper was the one to respond (possibly because his own accent made him the one to understand the Brit the best) "Then where are we goin', mate?"
The Pilot smirked, and gestured with a pointed finger. "You're going up."

And UP was right.

After piling into the plane and strapping themselves in, (Turns out the Heavy had never been on a plane before. The things you learn.) They took off vertically, before soaring into the distance. They flew for about an hour over the typical landscape, before they started to slow down in the air, and started rising again.

Now, everyone knew what Hoodoos were. They were the reason the Hoodoos area was named as such. More or less, a big pillar of rock.

Ramparts, as it turned out, was on top of one BIG Hoodoo.

Or rather, a Mesa, to be more accurate. Sturdier than a Hoodoo, really. And it had to be, seeing as it was about to have eighteen guys running around on top of it, trying to blow each other to shit.

Looking out the windows of the plane, they got to have a quick look at the area. One big open area in the middle, and two smaller open areas on each end, a whopping eight control points from the looks, and lots and lots of stone maze. And at each end, appropriately coloured for each team, were two tall towers, which was where the planes were going to land.
The RED plane soared over the maze below, narrowly missing the BLU plane (unsurprisingly, just like their own one, only blue) as it too, soared over so it's occupants could have a look at where they would be trying to kill each other next. The team could hear the Pilot chuckling to himself before he turned the plane towards the RED tower, and brought it in to land gently on the helicopter pad on its roof.

As the propellers started winding down, the Pilot exited the cockpit and moved to open the door so the team could get out.
"Well Chaps…" He said, turning to face them. "Welcome to Ramparts." He smiled gently as they started to disembark. "Don't get lost!" He called after them.

Under his mask, the Pyro was grinning. This couldn't have gone better had he planned it.

... ... ... ... ...

The BLU team were uneasy.

The rock walls of the Ramparts maze made it hard for the group to spread out and manoeuvre properly. They had to stick together or they'd get lost… which meant a well-aimed grenade or rocket would obliterate them all. They had to get to the open area that the Scout had assured them was up ahead, so they could at least move without tripping over each other. Which was easier said than done, apparently.

"Where is it, Scoot?" The Demo barked, rather peeved. "You've bin' sayin' 'Just around 'ere' for th' last bleedin' ten minutes!"
"All these passages look the same, alright?" The Scout shouted back. "I'd like to see you do better, Cyclops!"

"Alrigh', that does it!" The Scotsman abruptly broke into a run, turning down one of the side tunnels. "I'm getting' away from y' befer I get meself killed!"
"Wait up there Pardner! You'll be killed out there on yer own!" The Engineer took off after him, and in a matter of moments, their group was two less.

It was about now that the Medic came to notice that the Spy was gone. It didn't come as a surprise or a concern, but, the German had thought they were sticking together.

Apparently the Soldier didn't agree. Encouraged by the Demoman and the Engineer running off, he adjusted his Rocket Launcher and ran ahead with a cry of "CHAAAAARGE!"
The Scout ran after him. "Come back here, you moron!"

There was a pause, as the remaining members of the BLU team tried to work out what just happened.

"…I guess we're splittin' up then." The Sniper said, heading off down another path.

"Da. Is good plan. Surround leetle RED team before take their point." The Heavy declared, as though that was the idea all along. "Come along Doktor!" He said happily, striding off.
The Medic sighed. Why did he follow him around again? "Ja, ich komme." He said lightly, plodding after the larger man.

And then the Pyro was alone.

What in hell? In the space of 60 seconds, the entire team and all buggered off! Well fine. Be that way.
He looked around. He was at a junction of four passages. The one behind him was the way they had come. The way directly ahead was where the Medic and the Heavy had gone. The Sniper, Demoman and Engineer had all gone down the path to the left. The Soldier and Scout had gone down the path on the right.

And goodness knows where the Spy had nicked off to, the bastard.

Choices, choices.

Well, he might as well go after the Heavy and Medic. After all, they were both prime Spy targets, so, they'd need a little back up… in the most literal sense possible, of course. So, adjusting his grip on his 'Backburner', he headed down the centre path, to catch up with the Heavy and the Medic.

A half hour later, that turned out to be easier said than done, too.

He must have been wandering around in circles for all the progress he was making. The Scout had been right; every single path in this place looked the same. And even scorching the walls so he had some indication of where he had been didn't help; this place was big enough so that he wasn't actually looping around and around. But, he wasn't getting anywhere, regardless.

He turned a corner, and suddenly felt like revising that thought.

He had come to a clearing in the maze. And smack bang in the middle of it, was a control point. A RED one. A quick look around, and the BLU Pyro couldn't see any REDs around. Had he bothered to try and determine where he was in relation to the tall RED and BLU towers at either end, he may have discovered that he was a wee bit closer to the RED spawn point than he would have liked.

And, had he bothered to look behind the boulders scattered around the edge of the clearing, he might have thought twice about heading straight to the point, what with the masked RED waiting for him to wander through.

He stepped onto the point, and was somewhat disappointed to discover it was locked. He couldn't capture this point unless his team captured the points closer to the centre. Unfortunate, as capturing an unmanned point all on your own reigned in a sense of satisfaction that was right up there alongside the smug variety. But, besides that, it made the BLU come to an uncomfortable realisation.

He was too close to the enemy.

And, as if to prove him right, a muffled voice sounded from behind him.

"Hhhh thhrhh."

Hi there.

Whispy: I'm a big fan of TF2 as of only recently, to be honest. My brother bought it for me for my birthday, and I must admit, although I'm not usually a fan of First Person Shooters (mostly because it's like you're wearing blinders, and I get shot from behind a lot) but this one is a LOT of fun. I was surprised!
Even more surprising that the first story I get inspired to do isn't about my favourite class (which is the Medic, for future reference) Who'd a thunk it?