"Spook."

That one word brought back so many memories of times gone by, presenting a sense of familiarity that the ex-BLU Spy had not initially intended to have this evening. Ah yes, the recollection of battles gone by where the Sniper and he would spar verbally as well as physically, exchanging the common adopted nicknames of bushman and spook as though they were truly their names came into memory of the short term. It was as easy as breathing for the pair to spar as they did, and even now, old routine had returned to the Frenchman and Australian as though they had spoken only the day before.

"Bushman, it's been some time, non?" With a small bow of pure mockery, the Spy cracked the sly smirk he had once been known for and his steely eyes glinted in the faded light, practically in delight, as a flash of brilliant white amidst tan skin presented Francois with the sight of the Sniper's own smirk. "You're looking as healthy as ever."

"Yeah, 'course I am, mate." Mick replied with a small click of his tongue, as though that was one of the dumbest things to say before remembering it was common manners and coughing, supposing he had to return the politeness. "And, uh, you're lookin' not too bad yourself...different, to what I remember."

Yes, different was a good word to use in regards to how the ex-Spy looked at that moment. Instead of seeing the famous balaclava on his face, the Sniper got a good look at what he truly looked like. Sandy blonde hair that was tied back in a messy sort of ponytail, slightly paled skin that looked rather porcelain under the faded lighting of the hall. In fact, a few faded freckles that you would not see from first glance were spread across the bridge of the ex-Spy's nose. In fact, Mick thought he'd seen those freckles every now and then during their close combat sessions. Furthermore, he had noticed that the ex-Spy was much skinnier than before, and that concerned him slightly. The ex-BLU always used to insist (according to his brother, Brent) that everyone ate good meals and were healthy, almost to a level rivaling the Medic's with their need to keep people healthy.

"Well, there wasn't anyone who exactly saw this side to me, not back in the old days. Hell, not a single person knew me by name."

It was true. All that time ago, the BLU Spy had been an enigma to every one on RED's team and even to an extent there were particular things that the BLU's didn't know about their French team mate. It's almost as though Francois didn't want anyone knowing about him, even his own colleagues. Then again, with the amount of switching around with mercenaries and their teams the Administrator always insisted upon it did make some sort of sense to keep at least some of your own personal life a secret. Heaven knows Mick had advised a fair few of the newer mercenaries on base towards the end of the war to keep their personal details under their belt- some paying heed and others not.

"So, what is it?"

"Come again?"

"Ya name, mate, what is it?"

"Oh, call me Francois."

It felt strange, for both of the ex-mercenaries, talking so freely even on the terms of peace and to be complimenting each other all for the sake of being polite. It was foreign on both of their tongues to talk so kindly to a person whom ten years ago they would have shot or stabbed without a second thought. Perhaps even now, if the offer was there, the pair would have taken up arms against each other and battled gloriously as they had oh so long ago. But alas, such fine times were not to be anymore.

"'ey mate, take a look a' what's goin' on over there-" Mick's voice suddenly piped up, directing the Frenchman's attention towards the sight of the ex-RED's Medic, Kaiser Kranken, and the ex-BLU's Sniper, Brent Mundy, standing nose to nose and looking very suspicious.

"If I know Kaiser and Brent as well as I do, I bet you that by the end of the night they'll be all over each other. God knows they were back in the day." Francois commented lightly as he turned to face the scene, a chuckle leaving him as he saw from the corner of his eye Mick looking utterly gobsmacked. "What?"

"You can't be serious? They were-?"

Laughing at the confused look on the Australian's face, Francois nodded to confirm his suspicions.

"Crikey."

About to open his mouth to speak, Francois paused when a wave from his old team's Engineer, Dell, caught his attention. Turning to Mick once again and flashing a small smile, he excused himself and made his way over to the shorter male.

Now, during their little discussion over the two mercenaries that, surely enough, had gone to a dark corner where nobody wanted to even dare chance a look, Mick had noticed something else about the ex-BLU that he hadn't spotted before and found strangely odd. It may have been a trick of the light, but Mick could have sworn he'd spotted dark circles around Francois' eyes that looked... he couldn't quite phrase it. Not as bad as a black eye, though perhaps the beginning stages of one.

"Ah, 't's probably nothin' but a trick o' the light." He mumbled, watching the old Spy with a slightly more critical eye than he would have liked to that evening.

The evening of the reunion had been one of the biggest successes Pauling had to admit she'd ever managed as regards the mercenaries. There had been a surprising lack of arguing, and a surprising amount of...Ahem...the purple clad female didn't even wish to know anymore.

Standing beside Scoot the ex-Scout, she gave a small smile of fondness at the sight of the mercenaries getting packed up and ready to either journey to the town's bars or to their separate (in most,but not all, cases) homes.

"See? I told ya today'd be just fine, didn't I, darlin'?" Scoot murmured into her ear, his smirk almost audible to the slightly shorter female. "Go on, tell me how right I am~"

"Don't push your luck, Scoot." Came her reply as dismissively as possible , given Scoots actual being correct for once.. "you know I can still knock you out within the space of seconds from where you stand right now." A beat. A shuffle of feet and Scoot was a couple more steps away. "Much better. Now, let's get packed up and go home."

"Wait, wait, so, you've been just outside of town all this time?" Francois laughed, apparently in a much better mood and much more comfortable than he had been at the beginning of the evening. "Are you serious?"

"Yeh, if ya wanna call it tha'." Mick nodded, rubbing the back of his neck while the pair stood outside of the little rented hall. "I gotta lil' ranch a couple miles out of the way of anyplace. Nice lil' place, got a few livestock 'n' things, just 'nuff to be able to keep m'self goin' anyways."

"Sounds nice," Francois offered a polite smile, knowing that the sound of ranch life was definitely something that wasn't for him. "Then again, you've always enjoyed that sort of life, haven't you?" Giving a chuckle, he ran a hand over his face and unknowingly wiped off some of the cosmetic he had applied before coming along to the reunion.

"Yea', that sorta life's always been the thing for me. Anyways, 'nuff 'bout me, what 'bout you...? You haven't been sleeping much, eh? Your eyes look a bit tired and baggy and we all know tha' ya always hated the idea of tired eyes. What's the score, mate? C'mon, fill me in." Mick finally blurted out what had been on his mind, the accidental removal of the cosmetic that had revealed the darkness of the other male's eyes and had caused a level of rise within the ex-RED to grow.

Francois raised an eyebrow at Mick's sudden change of subject, stammering over his words for a moment and trying to recollect his suddenly scattered thoughts. Glancing down at his sleeve, his steely eyes narrowed at the sight of the cosmetic on his sleeve.

"Merde... yes, I suppose you could say I've been tired as of late." The Frenchman admitted and gave a soft sigh as though to prove his point. "I have a big, bright light that shines through my bedroom window most nights. Naturally, that keeps me awake and-"

"Look mate, I weren't born yesterday. I've known ya for how many years now? You really think that sorta crap's gonna work on me?"

The silence which followed confirmed the ex-RED's suspicions, causing a small growling noise to leave him before a snap of fingers caught his attention and a grin lit up Mick's face.

"Ya know what, mate? I have a proposal for ya."

"Oh, and what is that?"

"Well, ya come and stay over mine for a while. Just 'till those rings 'round your eyes fade completely and ya look less like a bag o' bones." The look of disapproval on the ex-Spy's face only encouraged Mick that little bit more. "C'mon, even if it's just for a week?"

After a short while of mental debate, Francois gave a rather frustrated sigh and clicked his tongue to show his irritation at the Sniper. "Mm...well...alright then, one week it is."

"Good on ya, mate. C'mon, le's go get your stuff."

A/N: Okay, I know i'm quite out of character in this chapter and things but I hope it's good enough. Can I just say a big thanks to those who have reviewed, fav'd and follow'd? I hadn't expected this sort of audience at all, so thank you!

Until the next chapter!