Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't.

Cheers.

---

The Spy glanced at the pills in his hand and sighed as he popped them into his mouth and chased them with some water. He then held the water bottle to his forehead, hoping to soothe the headache that was coming over him. Truth be told, he'd begun to feel under the weather over the last day or so. Nonstop he'd been helping with the decoding, the debriefing. Ugh.. Thank -god- it was finally finished. Now it was just a waiting game to see how quickly his team could make sense of the ill-gotten intel.

Peering out a bullet-proof glass window he watched one of the base courtyards. It was raining, he noticed. Terrible weather for fighting though he wouldn't put it past the Blus to try. The idiots.. An Engineer stepped past him hefting a large toolbox though he barely gave it any thought. Another sip of water. Ah.. Nice and cold. The corridor became busy then, a Demoman irritably discussing schematics with another Engineer pushing past the errant Spy. So he decided to move, headed toward the barracks and then his own quarters. He needed a nap. A good, long nap.

The Sniper geared up in his room, shrugging his vest over his shoulders and adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. He grabbed his Kukri, a bow, his rifle (and a midnight snack of course), and kicked the door shut behind him as he slung the heavy weapon up onto his shoulder and began walking..

As he stepped down the sparsely-populated halls of the Red Base, the Aussie took stock of his body. Getting to be in good shape now, little to no soreness in his previously-wounded areas and a bit of energy staying with him to help him stay up through the night.

Perfect.

He greeted the Engie guarding one of the warehouse doors with a tip of his hat, "Graveyard shift, mate, you know the drill."

"Right on, brother," came the man's relaxed reply. His Sentry gun blipped placidly beside him, barely even twitching as the burly man unlocked the door and threw it open for the Sniper to step outside.

Good lord was it raining. A relative monsoon fell upon him as he heard the warehouse door clamp shut. Not two steps out from it and rain began rolling along the brim of his hat and dripping in front of his eyes. Alert, he stepped forth and strafed the side of the Red base as he headed toward his appointed tower. He knew rain wouldn't stop Blu from doing something boneheaded like charging a fully-fortified, sealed base.

Ten feet, fifteen, twenty. The Sniper glanced up the side of his tower but decided to skirt it a bit first. As he crouched low in the bushes, he could feel his shoes sinking into the muddy grass. Huh.. Not a target for at least a half mile. Time to head up. He retraced his steps backwards, mostly to avoid getting stuck in the mud puddles rapidly forming on the ground. That'd be an embarrassing way to die, he thought, being stuck in a puddle.

So he started climbing, gloved hands grasping the cold metal and wood as he monkeyed his way up. A ladder? No, not so mundane. Anyone could climb a ladder. It took real skill to climb the deathtrap of sharp metal and jagged wood the Snipers had built together. They were all in agreement that their towers were like miniature bases and as such should be as dangerous as fuck to all but those granted safe passage inside.

Up top was an escape rope to be used for bailing out. He'd used one himself against that Soldier's rocket though the blast had knocked him to the ground prematurely.. He decided not to think about it, swinging his lanky body around a protruding piece of metal and pulling his foot up onto it. Higher and higher.. He began to hum as he climbed, finishing a bar of 'God Save the Queen' just as he opened the back door of the tower and slipped inside.

The Sniper began to shuck his gear and dropped his lunch bag onto a nearby crate while shaking out his rifle and bow. He plunked down on a stool beside the narrow-mouthed window at the forefront of the shack and took a dry rag from inside his vest. He didn't care much about himself, but his gun? That had to be kept in top condition. Both it and the bow received the towel treatment, barrels and arrows being checked for functionality as he kept an eye to the blowing rain outside.

It was almost completely dark inside -- had to be during the night. A single candle could light up the entire cabin and destroy his chances of surprising the enemy. One of the Engies had proposed blue lighting along the floor, soft light which did just enough for the Snipers and not enough for anyone outside to peep in. It was by this that the Sniper maintenanced his weaponry and unloaded his snack -- a travel mug filled to the brim with fresh coffee. "C'mout c'mout whereva you are.." he whispered under his breath, dull eyes staring between the beads of rain as he took a measured sip.

"Right behind you.." drawled a voice.

The Sniper tensed, fully prepared to spin around though the barrel of a pistol pressed itself firmly against the back of his skull and tipped his hat up slightly. A goddamn Spy!

"Ah.. now just relax and nobody will get hurt, hm?"

"Interruptin' a man drinkin' 'is coffee, that's real polite."

".."

The Sniper daringly glanced over his right shoulder but the gun only shifted to his temple. He could see the Spy now or, at least, his gloved hand. But he only scoffed and pulled his mug up for another drag, "Out with it then. I ain't gonna pop up and spill this. Be a waste of effort.."

"Very well," the Spy said confidently, "Tell me everyzhing you know. What is Red doing wizh our intelijhence?"

"Jolly good question, mate. See, I don't know if you know what a guy in a tower does, but he id'n't a Spy, see. I got no idea what they're up to nor do I car--"

Annoyed, the Spy thrust the gun forward, effectively pinning the Sniper's head against the planks of his sniping post. His coffee, thankfully, quivered but failed to drip. The Sniper slowly placed it down atop the crate.. "Well.. I guess this is the part where people get hurt, eh?"

"Tell me what you know!"

"Go diddle yeh'r mum."

There.

The moment he'd wanted. The Blu Spy's eyes widened with sudden anger and he knew that the moment they narrowed with focus that trigger would be pulled. It was then that he threw his head down with all his might and shoved his shoulder into the Spy's stomach.

BLAM!

The pistol went off. The Sniper's hat rolled to the ground as both men hit the floor of the shanty. Quickly moving to pin the Blu bastard, the Sniper grabbed his wrists and twisted until the Spy cried out and dropped his weapon. A struggle ensued though the Sniper could tell the scrawny Spy could do nothing under his weight. After bucking a few times, the Blu lay seething beneath him, "Zhe moment you let go of me, I shall kill you! I'll gut you like a Cornish game hen!"

"Roight, see, the problem with that is that I don't feel like letting you go. See, I was going to, but getting killed really turns me off to the whole idea."

A growl from the enraged Frenchman beneath him only amused the Sniper even more. He was a very patient man and Spies, he'd come to learn, were not as much. They liked being on top, they liked being right, and they liked getting things done quickly.

So it was no surprise that the Red Sniper decided to take things slowly!

"So tell me, mate. How's things on the Blu side? You guys have really got to be desperate sending just one guy to try and weed us out."

"I am not a-lone. Several of my colleagues wait below zhis tower for my signal so I suggest you unhand me at once!"

"Roight, so you can kill me. I got that part. And ah.. What's this about colleagues? Heheh.. Ain't anybody 'round for a mile, mate. Didn't you see the sentry parked out front?" The Blu Spy sneered past the perimeter of his face mask. Indeed he had come alone, scaling the tower half an hour before the Sniper had come out to his post and simply waiting for him.

"How's it feel to be caught lyin' your first day on the job, hm?"

The Spy looked startled. First day?! Sacre bleu! How in the world did the Sniper know??

"Field's a lot different than trainin' ain't it? You're a new recruit -- I can tell by the way you hesitate.." The Spy wordlessly glared death up at him. "Mate, let me give you a very useful, borderline traitor, bit uh' advice.. Never interrupt a Sniper when he 'asn't had 'is coffee yet. Never do that."

"I shall see you in Hell!"

And that's when the Sniper collapsed his weight over the Spy, ramming both elbows into the man's chest and knocking the wind out of him with an audible woosh of air. Stunned, the Blu Spy could not fight back as the Sniper gingerly hopped to his feet and punted him out the back hatch of the watch tower, "Tell Blu Team oye said hello!" It swung shut behind the sailing Spy who, the Sniper observed with a hand to his ear, shrieked as he fell to the ground.

He lay in the mud as a string of agonized French, Italian, and Spanish curses left his lips. The Blu Spy whined and rolled over, flicking on his dying cloak and dagger device long enough to crawl back toward Blu Base with a broken leg and god knows how ruined a spine. Though the rain came heavy, he could hear the Sniper up in his tower, laughing. He fully expected to be sniped once his cloak wore off but the bullet never came. Ugh.. Damned Snipers. He'd been told they liked to 'play with their food' as it were, but this was just humiliating.

He could almost feel the scope on his back, watching him..