M for some language, violence, and romantic scenes later in the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters/etc in this fanfic (only a slight alteration was done on the main character). All belongs to Valve/TF2/etc.

--

The thing referred to as "Ceasefire" would be found odd by most people. A siren sounded and lights flashed, quickly followed by a presumably female voice announcing that said "Ceasefire" had been activated, and that both teams may rest for a pre-determined extent of time.
Perhaps outsiders would ask "What the hell is that for? Why not just fight all day, make sneak attacks at night, or just take advantage of the opponents' weaknesses?"

Back when this confrontation first began, that was how it started. Everyone just fought all out with almost no visible breaks or resting periods, and if the other team was found to be eating lunch or sleeping, a retaliation attack quickly ensued (which often resulted in great casualties to both sides). By the end of the first month, the members of the RED and BLU teams were both thoroughly exhausted. No one had any time to stop and eat on the battlefield for fear of being picked off, and the fighting began as soon as one heard the obnoxious knocking of bullets and rockets on one's base door.

Eventually, after both sides sent myriad complaints to their associated HQs, an agreement (although a somewhat reluctant one), was made. Time would be set aside for both teams to rest properly and eat, while the time to "kick the opposing team's asses" would also be tentatively scheduled.
This plan seemed to work out fairly well, and although somewhat unorthodox when thinking of a war (since when did anyone care about the well being of anything, let alone anyone, in a war?), this was how things remained, and still stayed even to this day.

Lunchtime ceasefire could not come at a more welcome time. About 2 minutes after it had been initiated, all troops had headed to their respective dining-halls. Not 2 minutes after that had I burst into said hall, exasperatedly announcing the current situation.

I had to speak rather quickly in order to relay the story accurately, but still fast enough to instill the feeling and need for haste.

After finishing my hurried retelling, the Medic was the first to speak.

"So you just let z'he spy valtz right in und take ou'a intelligence?"

The doctor was glaring at me with something closely resembling scorching rage at this point (if I had been a block of ice, I'd have melted by now), quite different from the usual indifference his features sported. His arms were stiff and straight at his sides, hands balled into fists so tight his gloves squeaked, and provided a very clear picture of his lack of amusement in his general posture (then again he usually had a reason to be rather sour anyways).

To be truthful I hadn't really considered the circumstance being my fault; at least, not for more than 2 seconds (it wasn't anyway, as far as I could tell. Even the dear doctor here would have mistaken the Engineer to be genuine). After this, I had swept the idea aside to make room for a more pressing issue; 'what the heck now?'

I had never really known what the intelligence had contained, or was even about, but I could easily make the assumption that it was something of grave importance. Perhaps it dealt with the layout to the base, what supplies we need or are running low on, weaknesses of the bases' structure, or even blueprints of our weapons and equipment. In reality, any one of these, no matter which, could easily provide the BLUs the upper hand in combat (even if only slightly).

"He didn't waltz in," I replied tersely, "he was disguised as the Engineer, and did a hell of a good job of it."

"What are ya', president of his fanclub?"
Scout was leaning against the middle of the 5 tables the dining hall contained, a smarmy smart-ass grin on his face.

"Steady now, son," the 'real' (as far as we could tell, anyway) Engineer intervened, holding out his arms in a non-threatening way, "she didn't mean for this'ta happen. Though I am curious.."

He was facing me now with a puzzled frown, re-folding his arms into their previous position.

"Ah'was patrolin' the lower quarters of the base, and I don't recall seein' ya there, or at our meetin' point."

Funny how that worked out. It was probably his footsteps we (enemy Spy et moi) had heard, aiding the assumption of an intruder being there, and allowing the actual Spy to maneuver his way to the intelligence room. I have to admit though.. it was some hell of a plan (even though about 40% of it almost certainly involved a vast amount of luck).

"Figures. I showed up about 10 minutes early at our meeting point, Engineer, and you - I mean, the Spy disguised as you– showed up 5 minutes later. It was luck of the draw, really. I doubt he knew I was going to be there in advance."

From the corner of my eye I could see the familiar, faintly amused smile of our own masked Frenchman; who was currently leaning against a pillar next to the table that Scout was at, puffing contemplatively on a cigarette. I was sure he shared the same thoughts on the other spy's actions as I did (but I wouldn't be surprised if he added in "but I could do better" to the end of said thoughts). They were crafty.

It was then that I briefly questioned our Spy's competence. I hadn't heard any amazing or particularly devious stories about him infiltrating enemy lines and stealing anything (everyone else, save for the Medic and Engineer perhaps, had shoved tales of bravery and cunning in my general direction whenever possible. 95% of which involved a great deal of explosions, over exaggerated amounts of praise received from other teammates, and daring escapes. The only thing that wasn't added was probably dozens of squealing women).

Maybe he was just a private man. Either way, I didn't delve into the thought too much, and simply left it at that.

"We don't really have a lot of time to be discu'zing zis right now," the theif paused, exhaling a moderately dark cloud of smoke, "per'aps we should wait until zee meeting tonight, non?"

The Demoman nodded in agreement, slumped limply in his seat at one of the tables, all the while swishing a questionable liquid in a dark brown bottle back and forth uneasily. The Medic didn't react so calmly, still appearing quite tense with an annoyed scowl creasing his features. Instead of shouting (the route most would have taken, along with plenty of profanities), he strode stiffly out of the room without a lunch, his hands still clenched into fists, muttering something about requesting more team members to make up for the "lack ov' professionals".

--

"Listen, ah'" The Engineer stopped walking for a moment, and turned to face me properly, "Ah didn't see any one y'all down there but -but ah should'a looked harder."

I had been accompanying the mechanic about the base, setting up some of my own sentries (level 2 now, I might add. I was still having a few problems rigging up the motion and colour sensors to the rocket launchers on the level 3s) and observing some of the more tactical places to put dispensers.

I shrugged, letting out a troubled sigh. I appreciated his concern, but really, the whole problem didn't have anything to do with him, and apologizing for no reason wasn't needed.

After something like this happens, it's best not to dwell on the past anyways. What good does that do? In the time it takes to grieve and then rearm, the enemy could have snuck into our base and back twice over (no doubt the Scout'd blame me for those too).

"Don't worry about it. It's not your fault the RED Spy decided to disguise as you."

He seemed ready to reply with something else, but appeared to just let it die in his throat. He knew I was right, but why he was bothering to apologize was beyond me. Instead, he settled for a more neutral response.

"Alright then, I s'pose. We only got another hour o' so before we need'ta get packed up. Let's go ahead'n'make another few rounds."

--

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, and the meeting was almost equally as dull. Though I couldn't help but feel a few more twangs of guilt as the whole predicament was discussed.

But this wasn't the only thing mentioned.

The Medic brought to our attention that he'd sent in a request for more recruits to HQ, and had received a prompt reply saying that we'd be getting an additional 2 Snipers, a heavy weapons guy (or "Heavy" as most referred to them as. It wasn't just an easier and quicker name to say, it also had a hidden mocking), a Pyro, and a Soldier.
Gee, doc, you've really outdone yourself.

But I couldn't help but whistle at the prospect. At least we had a member of each class, at last. This'd greatly help our defense, and the add-ons to our offense weren't anything to sniff at either. I was a little perplexed as to why he hadn't filed the order sooner, but at least he had bothered to do it at all. I suppose I'd admit to being a little satisfied by the man's actions (don't tell him though. His ego might inflate).

"HQ haf' finally decided to replace ou'a deceased comrades," the doctor chimed, pacing about the debriefing room (which was located on the other side of the base from the dining hall), "so ve vill haf'to design an attack strategy to deal wis'ou'a .. current predicament."

He stressed the last two words and eyed my direction vaguely. I didn't really notice though, as I was already considering how exactly to go about redeeming myself.

I hadn't entirely given up the notion of "the past staying in the past, forget it and move on", but I had also taken a different approach too. Perhaps if I could regain not only our documents, but some of BLU's as well, I'd certainly be held in higher esteem.

Perhaps it could even help the team work together more smoothly? If everyone was at least tolerant of everyone else.. Well, it certainly couldn't be anything negative. "Like clockvork", I had heard the Medic say once before.

Ugh. When did I start trying to plan my own "atonement"? I lifted a hand to my face and rubbed at the bridge of my nose.

Then again, I already knew the basics of the enemy base. The Spy was kind enough to relay the information to me earlier in the week (actually, he just said something along the lines of "You kno', both of our basez are zo alike, they could have easily been built by zee same people". Not much, but at least it was something).

Maybe it was a good idea. Not so much the thought of reclamation but more towards that of a challenge. Or just another training exercise, possibly (a game of hide & seek in the dark, even).

I was busy mulling the idea over in my head for the rest of the meeting; concocting a loose plan and even a method of escape if said plan turned sour.

Worse case scenario was that I got killed or injured while trying to escape. The best? Retreating back to the base unscathed with the papers in hand, hooting all the way.

By the end of the gathering I had decided to at least attempt it. If I couldn't sneak into their base properly, I'd return here. If I did get what I wanted.. Hmm..

But if I was caught?

I didn't truly want to think about that turn of events.

After saying our parting goodbyes and goodnights, I couldn't help but notice the questioning look the Engineer kept shooting my way as I departed for my quarters.