Ladies and gents, have another update, remember, odd stuff doing odd things that are unlikely to actually work, but to hell with it, I'm doing it anyway. Oh, and because I forgot earlier: I own nothing, Team Fortress characters and settings are all owned by Valve, I just dabble.
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The Spy waited patiently for the Heavy's examination to finish, sitting in the little waiting area outside of the Medic's med bay along with the Scout, who was busy chewing his nails. He sat with his legs and arms crossed, his mind working furiously as he debated how he could approach the Heavy about his minigun. His brown Italian leather shoe tapped the floor habitually as he puffed on his white cigarette, mouth in a thin line around it, the smoke coming from his nostrils. As soon as the Scout noticed this he stopped, blinking at the Spy as the Frenchman finally noticed the blue eyes staring at him in awed confusion. "What?"
"You part dragon or something? Because that is really cool, man…"
Spy just frowned at him, taking the finally spent cigarette and grinding it out on the ashtray beside him. Another cancer-stick soon took its place and the Spy was back to smoking. Finally the door opened and the Spy stood up, walking towards the Heavy who was carrying his precious minigun. The Spy was given a new reason to view both of them with more than the usual trepidation. The large man stood taller than him and several pounds heavier than him, two bandoliers filled with custom bullets strapped across his chest over a brown vest that nearly covered his RED team shirt. His brown boots stomped across the ground until he stood directly in front of the Spy, placing the minigun on the ground in front of him.
"Medic says you wish to ask me something." The slow, Russian accented voice spoke calmly, an eyebrow rising.
"Oui…" The Spy hesitated for a moment, and then finally sighed. The next words out of his mouth startled all three of them, the Medic halting in his ushering of Scout into the examination room. The reason being, he was speaking Russian. "Heavy, I was wondering if you would do me a favor?"
"You speak fluent Russian?" The Heavy's voice was surprised, the words ringing off of his tongue quicker and cleaner than in English.
"Yes, I apologize for not doing so earlier, it has merely been a habit of mine to speak in the language most of my colleagues use, in this case, English." The Spy shrugged. "I do apologize if I manage to butcher your language. It has been a while since I last spoke it."
"You are doing very well so far. Now, what is this favor you wish to ask of me? You seem very nervous about it." Heavy raised an eyebrow, his expression dark, and the Spy was given one more reason to remember that no matter how soft, and how stupid he usually seemed to be, the Heavy really was neither.
"…Likely for good reason. Did the Medic tell you what we were discussing?"
"No, he merely stated that you had a question for me, and that was it." He shrugged.
"You are aware of how I can make myself appear as another person?" Spy started quietly, mouth opening before his brain truly decided what words it wished to use, instinct leading his choices, his natural charm pouring out of every word. The Heavy did not seem impressed.
"Yes…"
"We were discussing what other things I might be able to make myself appear as… The problem is, most things in this base are consistently abused. Dispensers, teleporters and sentries are hit with wrenches, other things are caught in the crossfire. There was one thing that we all agreed was handled the best." He examined his gloved fingers carelessly, presenting as indifferent a front as he could.
"What would that be?"
Spy took a breath, backing up a step and answering clearly, "Sasha."
"What do you want to do with my gun?" Heavy was immediately on the defensive, looming over the shorter man, blue eyes narrowed, and expression furious.
"Please, Heavy, relax, listen to me very closely, I promise, the only thing I need to do is to run a few tests. Some of the information I need you will likely be able to simply tell me, but I do need to examine Sasha. I am going to attempt to trick the BLU team's Heavy."
"How precisely do you plan to test her, will you touch her?" Heavy took a step closer to him, looking directly into his eyes, his expression deadly.
"Never without gloves on, always as carefully as possible, and I promise I will defer to your judgment. In fact, you may be the best to help me with this endeavor." Spy answered, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
The Heavy paused, mouth drawn into a thin line, eyes narrowed, and finally, he smiled. "If Spy can bring Sasha from my room to garage, then I shall let you examine her. It must also be by yourself, while not scratching her." He poked a single thick finger into the Spy's chest, that dark smile curling up his mouth as his eyes flashed triumph.
"But…it weighs three-hundred and fifty kilograms, how precisely do you think I can lift that?" Spy asked, his composure cracking as he threw his arms in the air.
"If little baby Spy is too weak, then he will not be able to touch Sasha."
"You are aware of the fact that I shall need to touch her to carry her, oui?" The Spy finally asked in something like desperation.
"Yes. I do not think little Spy will even be able to pick her up." Heavy grinned at him. "But, if Spy is able to take her to garage, then I will help you, I swear it."
The Spy frowned and then turned to the Scout standing next to him. The Medic and the Scout had yet to continue on, too startled by the recent development to move. The fact that the Medic had been the only other one to speak Russian in the base was another reason, the German having stayed to see what precisely the Spy was going to say. "May I borrow your ear piece?"
"Oh, no, man, I know better than that. You'll say something weird into it, all you Spies do that. There is no way," Scout answered, his hands making a vehement 'no' gesture across his chest.
Spy rolled his eyes. "Please, lapin, it will only be for a moment. I need to ask the Engineer something."
The Scout narrowed his eyes at him, frowning suspiciously before finally holding it out. "Fine, and quit calling me rabbit!"
"Merci, and no, I will not." The Spy took it and cleared his throat, pressing the button that allowed for base-wide communication. "This is Scout, and I am still a sad little virgin!" The high pitched parody of the Scout's voice had barely finished coming from the speakers before the Spy was gone, vanishing as he ran away, the earpiece left on the floor, snorting cackling laughter echoing behind him. The Scout cursed, about to run after him, but the still laughing Medic had begun ushering him into the med bay, and an amused Medic was also one that was less likely to perform sick, twisted experiments on you.
Scout would take what insurance he could get.
….
The Spy walked up to the Engineer, another cigarette in his mouth. The Sniper was also with the Engineer in the garage, the Australian often choosing the company of the quiet, hospitable American to anyone else. The Texan turned to him with a grin. "Heard that announcement you made, partner, mighty good choice."
"I'll say." Sniper tipped his hat to him, a grin on his face.
"Merci." The Spy nodded in acknowledgement before turning to the shorter man. "Engineer, I am in need of your assistance."
"Oh really now? What can I help you with?" His goggles flashed as they focused on him, his expression interested.
Spy flicked his disguise kit open, placing it on the workbench in front of him. "I will need for you to remove your goggles, mon ami."
"Alright, Spook…" The Engineer did so carefully, tilting his hardhat back to look at him better after pulling his protective eyewear down around his neck, blinking at the sudden change in light.
"Very good." The Spy was busy removing all the cigarettes from his case, placing them in a line neatly. "Bushman, would you mind bringing me the two screwdrivers to your left? The small ones."
"Sure thing, Wanker." Sniper grinned at him, handing them over calmly.
"Merci. Now, Engineer, I am going to require you to turn this screwdriver when I tell you." He began fiddling with it, the Engineer's eyes slowly drifting down to the open console, that is, before the Spy's finger angled his chin back up. Blue eyes focused on an amused smirk, the Engineer smiling sheepishly. "And I am going to request that you keep your eyes up here, kind sir." The Spy's voice rose in a teasing fasletto, his eyelashes fluttering innocently as he gave a rather coy smile. The Engineer frowned, even as the Sniper burst out laughing.
"Spy, that's just wrong."
"Non, telling you to 'mange de la merde et meurs' would be wrong, that was supposed to be charming." Spy smirked at him, adjusting a few things with his own screwdriver. He positioned the other and brought the Engineer's hand to it. "Twist when I say."
"What did that random French jumble mean, anyway, Spook?" Sniper asked.
"I told him to eat shit and die, twist please." The Engineer did so, even as his look turned offended, the Sniper cracking up.
"Well, isn't that the most polite thing I ever heard. See if I help you next time you ask for it." Engineer frowned, but there was the tiniest hint of amusement flickering in his blue eyes, which hadn't moved from the others'.
"My apologies, Laborer, I was merely making a point. You deserve to choke and die on something like…oh, perhaps a nice Bordeaux wine." His smile was vicious, even as Sniper chuckled again, not bothering to pay much attention to what the two of them were doing with the disguise kit.
"Gee, thanks, Spook. I'm blushing," Engineer deadpanned, rolling his eyes with a smirk.
"Ah-ah, keep looking up. I am quite aware of the various tricks one uses to get a decent look at something, mon ami."
"Suppose you would be." Engineer sighed, letting the Spy guide the screwdriver to the next point, twisting as he was told to do so, and in general following the quiet directions of the other. Finally the Spy smiled, pushed the Engineer into the Sniper, and immediately began work on the innards of the Spytron 3000 in earnest. The Texan and Australian untangled themselves, protesting loudly, even as the Spy finally closed it back up.
"Apologies once again, but the last bit was the truly important step, if you had seen that, I'd be quite literally fried, I was not willing to take chances."
"I hope you get jarated something good, Wanker," Sniper snapped. Spy shuddered.
"I personally hope not. Now, gentlemen…" Spy's butterfly knife was twirled neatly around his fingers. "If you do not mind, I am going to deal with the Heavy."
"Now wait one moment, Spook, what do you mean 'deal with?'" Engineer asked, pausing in his movements to replace his goggles over his eyes.
"I just need only the tiniest amount of blood. I won't gut him like a Cornish game hen, I promise!" The jump in octave combined with his wide-eyed innocent stare led to crossed arms and raised eyebrows. He sighed. "Fine, I will not kill the Heavy. But he was asking for it." Just as the Spy was about to leave he froze, his mouth slowly twisting down at the corners before he turned to look at the two behind him. Neither of them liked the twisted smile that curled up his mouth. The Spy finally left, leaving behind two men that looked at each other, raised an eyebrow, and went off to their own parts of the garage, sharing the silence that was often the only reason the Sniper ever came down.
….
"Medic, if I might ask a question…" The Spy stood at a reasonable distance away from the German, his expression politely indifferent, even as his mind reeled in confusion at what he was seeing. He had been wondering where precisely the Soldier was for a while, the knowledge that he would have usually seen the crazy American wandering the halls talking to Shovel by that hour always at the back of his mind. It seemed, however, that Scout was not the only one that knew they were having examinations that day.
The Soldier had somehow lodged himself up in the rafters; looking over his shoulder just enough to peer down at the Medic from under his helmet and shake Shovel defiantly, bellowing various insults at the top of his lungs. The German was rubbing at his temples, trying to use whatever bedside manor he possessed to calm the man down and get him to come down. Unsurprisingly, it only seemed to rile the Soldier up.
"Was? Was wollen Sie?" He spat out, turning to look at the Spy with his blue eyes spitting sparks. Spy took a step back as a safety precaution. Medics were known to have needles, angry Medics were known to use them. Hell, pleased Medics were known to use them. Spy usually avoided him entirely out of principal, but in this instance…
"I merely wished to ask you something that you, as the Medic, would be most likely to know, and tell me." Spy answered, his expression sarcastically contrite. He knew it was likely a good thing the Medic was too irritated to pay proper attention.
The Medic sighed. "If you can get him down, I shall answer anything you would like to know, patient confidentiality be damned! I can't take anymore!"
"Nazi scum, you get the hell away from my person, or I will personally oversee the maggots that will be feasting upon your flesh after my Shovel bashes out your brains!" Soldier bellowed, shaking his Shovel, hanging onto the rafter with his other hand and crossed legs like a sloth. A very angry sloth that shouts insults and murders people, but a sloth all the same.
"Soldier, I need to perform the examinations. It is required, believe me, it is not that I want to. I have to. Believe me, I would much rather be doing other things than seeing that you are all healthy and functioning." Medic glared up at him, mouth thinning. "Please, come down so I can get this over with quickly."
"No! Go away! I want nothing to do with you! And you! You Crouton, go away! I will not be brought down by a surrendering pansy like yourself!" With every sentence, Soldier shook Shovel, his helmet rising the tiniest amount whenever he moved, revealing flashes of blue eyes glaring down at him in contempt.
Spy tilted his head to the side, lips pursing slightly as he gouged the distance from the floor to the beam where the Soldier was hanging. The red brick wall had little to hang onto in order to climb up, but the Spy had made do with less before. He sighed, removing his jacket calmly and handing it off to the Medic. "Please do not let this fall on the floor, mon ami, merci." He rolled his white dress-shirt's sleeves up, backed up a step, and before the Soldier quite knew what he was doing, launched himself up the wall, kicking off the brick surface with a foot and clinging to the man's stomach.
Unfortunately for the Soldier, as much as he may have resembled a sloth, he lacked the claws they were known for. The Frenchman's added weight, no matter how slight it actually was in comparison to others, brought him down with a yell. Spy landed on his feet, staggering backwards, and away from the Soldier, who landed on his back with a sickening thud and a crack. Spy winced. "Well, that did not go as planned…"
"Ohhh…" Soldier moaned, curling up in the fetal position, even as he shook Shovel weakly, glaring at him from under his helmet. "Stupid…French…pansy! I will…murder you…"
"Danke, Herr Spy, here is your jacket." Medic handed it over with a smile, leaning over the Soldier with a spiteful grin. "Did that hurt, fräulein, sorry…shall we go to my office so I can make it all better?"
"Merci, now, Medic, before you go, would you mind answering my question?" Spy asked, fixing his sleeves and buttoning them neatly before shrugging on his red-pinstriped jacket.
"Sicher, what is it you wished to know?"
"Do any of the members of this team have any diseases that are transmitted by blood or other bodily fluids?" Spy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Medic raised his own. "What other fluids are we talking about, Spy?"
"To be honest, I would prefer blood. I do not know about your own personal preference, but if I am going to be putting it in my body…"
"What precisely are you talking about doing, vampirism, possibly even cannibalism?" Medic asked, walking over to him, peering into each blue eye in turn with a critical look, his hand rubbing at his lightly stubbled chin. The grin he was giving him was somewhere between amused and genuinely interested. Spy did not know which worried him more.
"Bien sûr non, the disguise kit does require a certain amount of DNA from whoever I wish to appear as when using this setting. It works better on fluids, and as prevalent as it is, I am not interested in using the Sniper's piss." He frowned at the thought, shuddering. Medic brightened immediately.
"Oh, ja, I understand now. Nien, none of the members of this team have any sort of disease that can be transmitted by blood. Whatever diseases they may have had in the past have long since been cured due to constant exposure to the medi gun as well as respawn itself," Medic answered, returning to the downed Soldier who continued to struggle weakly. "Would you mind helping me take him to the medical bay?"
"Non, I will certainly help you avec le soldat. It is my fault he is currently in this predicament after all…"
"…Maggots…" Soldier grunted, and finally fell still as the two of them lifted him up and continued towards the medical bay.
"Oh, before I forget, your examination is after the Pyro's, would you be kind enough to go get him on your way to whoever else you need to talk to?"
"Certainement. I will go collect the soulless monster for you…" Spy frowned, the two of them entering the hallway that led to the waiting room and the accompanying surgery ward.
"Come now, Spy, he is still a Kamerad." Medic grinned at him, his amusement at the Spy's discomfort palpable.
"Oui, one who burns people and laughs maniacally is certainly a worthy friend," Spy spat.
"And one who stabs them in the back is better?" Medic asked.
"But of course." Spy winked at him, the Medic chuckling quietly, backing his way through the door and into the main surgery, where everything was immaculately cleaned. Spy would have been surprised at the dove that flew down from the rafters and landed on the Medic's shoulder, but he was too used to Archimedes' antics, considering it was better just him than the entire flock of them. The Medic was as well, barely blinking when the dove jumped down to perch on the Shoulder's grenade. Spy shooed him off when he went to peck at the pin, however, his tolerance only extending so far.
"True enough, here, lay him on this bed for me, would you?" Medic transferred the Soldier to the Spy fully, walking over to one of the various shelves that lined the space, picking up various medical paraphernalia as he did. Two of them were empty syringes which he promptly sterilized before walking back to the Spy, holding them out calmly. "Would you prefer that I be the one to draw the blood?"
"If it wouldn't be any trouble…" The Frenchman confirmed, stepping back from the man he had just positioned on the bed fully.
"Very well, I take it you would like my own as well?"
"Oui, if you would not mind."
"Nien, it is fine." Medic waved it away, jabbing the needle unceremoniously into the Soldier, who let out a groan, even as the Medic drew the smallest amount of blood and gave it to the Spy. "Here is one…" The Medic quickly found his own vein and deliberately drew his own blood calmly. "And here is my own. If you like, I have a sample of the Scout's that I took recently, would that work?"
"Thank you and yes, it should." Spy took them both, and frowned. "You would not happen to have other syringes on you?"
"You planning on collecting the whole teams?" Medic asked with a small smirk.
"Oui, it is necessary." Spy shrugged.
"Ah, well, in that case…" He collected the other required needles, sterilizing them one at a time and placing them in their own plastic baggies, bringing them over to the Spy.
"My thanks."
"It's no problem. I want to see this happen as much as the next person." Medic smirked, before adjusting his round spectacles calmly. "You do know how to draw blood safely, yes?"
Spy smirked, removing one of the needles and shrugging his jacket off, rolled up his sleeve, and drew his own blood calmly. "Et voila."
"Very good. Have fun, fräulein, try not to make too big of a mess." Medic sneered at him.
"I do have a problem with messes." Spy chuckled, rolling his sleeve back down after the Medic placed a bandage over the spot, knowing and recognizing the Spy's hatred for blood on his clothing. Medic had no such issue, but at times was known to pander to those who would give him something.
Spy nodded to them both and went to look for Pyro, who was very likely to be in the boiler room. He hated going into the boiler room. It was always too damn hot, which was precisely why the Pyro loved it. On the way to where the Pyro would be, the Spy nearly ran into the Demoman who had fallen around the corner of another branching hallway directly into the one he was walking in. His bottle of Scrumpy bounced along the red tiles, empty. Spy looked down, raising an eyebrow, and nudging him with the toe of his shoe. Demoman could hold his liquor with the best of them, but on weekends, and in particular the day before the match, he was known to drink more than usual. It led to incidents like this one more often than the Spy would like.
"I don't wanna…go away…" Demo slurred, ending the short statement with a burp. Spy sighed, crouching down next to him.
"Would you be in need of assistance?"
"Huh?" Demo asked, propping his head up enough to stare at him with his one decent eye. "What are you talking about?"
"…Never mind. I am going to take a blood sample, is this alright with you?" Spy asked, rolling the sleeve of the Demoman's white shirt up, pushing the sleeve of his red jumpsuit up as he did so.
"What?" Demo blinked, watching in a haze of drunken confusion as a needle was inserted into his skin, red liquid filling it, and then promptly passed out. Spy sighed, rolling his eyes before stepping over him, continuing on his walk to the boiler room.
Finally he arrived and grumbled quietly before shucking his jacket, loosening his tie, and knocking on the door to announce his presence, before entering. The black gasmask turned large round lenses towards him, reflecting the light of the fire in the boiler as they stared into his soul. He hated Pyros. The man stood up to greet him, red asbestos lined suit shining, black gloved hand beckoning him closer. Spy had started to sweat the instant the heavy door had been opened, but he walked forward anyway.
"Whmnt dnm ynb wamt?" Pyro asked finally once he was close enough, staring at him unmoving.
"The Medic requested that I tell you your examination is next." Spy answered, doing his best to refrain from rubbing at the sweat beading under his balaclava, or otherwise showing his discomfort.
"Mmmph," Pyro mumbled, even under the gasmask, likely stating something the Spy had no wish to hear before waving him out. Pyro turned back to the boiler, a single gloved hand going out to rub against it, hesitating only when he noticed that the Spy had yet to move. He stood up then, drawing himself up to his full height. "Whmnt?"
"Monsieur, I have another request to make of you. We are experimenting with my disguise kit, in order to properly attempt what I am going to do…I am in need of your blood. The Medic, Scout, Soldier, and Demoman have already contributed, as well as myself." He held up the baggies, displaying the filled syringes as evidence. Pyro continued to stare at him and the Spy sighed. "I am going to attempt to disguise myself as the BLU Heavy's minigun, in order to do that I need to test and work up to it. We're going to attempt to trick him. All you have to do is let me have a small amount of your blood and I shall leave you alone."
Pyro appeared to think it over, finally his gloved hand moved to his other, sliding it off. Spy nearly flinched at the sight of the burnt flesh underneath his glove, only just managing to keep his expression from changing as more of it was exposed as his sleeve was rolled up. When there was finally enough for the Spy to get at a vein he did so, careful not to touch the scarred and burned skin. The sleeve was rolled down and the glove replaced, the Spy nodding his head to the Pyro in thanks before leaving as quickly as he could without seeming afraid. As he shut the door he heard the Pyro laughing.
Spy shuddered, peeling back his sweat-soaked clothing with a sneer, regretting the fact that he had not removed his red vest as well. He debated getting a shower or just continuing with what needed to be done and treating himself to a shower later. After a moment of consideration, a reminder of what time it was and the realization that if he planned on getting all their blood samples before dinner, it would likely be best to just continue on. With a sigh he headed to his last stop, regretting the fact that he had left all his cigarettes in the garage, yet knowing precisely why he had done so.
The Heavy laughed at him when the Spy made his request, finally turning his arm out so the Spy could get what he had came for. Spy had a moment to look into his room and see Sasha on her own little bed and groan. He sincerely hoped this worked.