MEET THE TURNCOAT

RETRIEVING FILE…

DATA LOAD 007: FOUND


-INITIATE TRANSMISSION-

Turncoat crouched low within Heavy's shadow, pressed into the corner nearest the door, and tried to ignore the broad shirtless chest at her back. Demoman was leering at her from the other side of the room, and she ignored him, too.

Scout hopped from foot to foot, an eager grin stretched across his face. He flexed bare-chested muscles at her whenever she happened to look his way, and she rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Soldier stood at attention, hard pectorals displayed proudly, despite the fact that he typically wore a white t-shirt beneath his Team-colored jacket. Despite his initial confusion at the idea, once he'd warmed up to it he'd wanted to go fully naked, but Turncoat had quickly vetoed that idea. Feeling left out, Demo had abandoned Medic's lab-coat and shed his jumpsuit altogether. Now he was clad in nothing but his boots, bullet-proof vest and striped boxer shorts, which - thank Heaven - were anything but blue.

"You guys ready?" she asked.

"Born ready," Scout grinned, chugging down the last few gulps of the Bonk soda he'd pulled out of his locker, while he tried to flex all the muscles strung across his lean frame at once.

"You're sure you wouldn't like to pose a bit more?" she asked, innocently, making Demo and Soldier snigger. "Maybe get in a photo shoot, or two?"

"Aw, come on, ya know ya love it," he smirked at her.

"Hey, you know what, I think the REDs might love it, too," she continued sweetly. "In fact, I think it's a really good idea that you stand right out in the open and flex as hard as you can at them. I'm sure they'll drop to their knees and start worshiping you as their new God, instead of filling you with bullets—"

"Yeah, yeah, yer just jealous you can't go runnin' inta battle topless," Scout scoffed laughingly. "But here's da t'ing: we ain't stoppin' ya. Ya wanna go wit'out any clothes on, hey, I ain't gonna judge. Girls got rights'n shit, ya know?"

"...Wow," Turncoat said. "I honestly can't tell if that's the most sexist thing I've ever heard, or not."

"Damn straight."

"If you're all done gossiping, ladies, may I remind you we've got a war to win?" Soldier called, and stoutly ignored the rude gesture Scout carelessly threw his way, while Turncoat face-palmed and shook her head, chuckling helplessly. "Everyone in position? All blue articles of clothing are removed? Good. On my mark! Three...two...one...ATTAAAAACK!"

With a whoop, Scout darted past the door, sprinting from one side of the room to the other with a burst of speed so fast Turncoat almost didn't catch it, before skidding hard into the wall. But he'd done what they needed, activating the door and setting off the bombs in a quick succession of concussive explosions. Soldier gestured as the blast cleared, and the BLUs moved forward, edging just close enough to keep the door open, while still remaining out of sight.

There was an excited beep from outside, along with varied battle cries, and a hail of bullets peppered the lockers Heavy had set in front of the door, ripping the blue shirts hanging within to shreds. This was soon followed by a volley of rockets just for good measure, and Turncoat flinched slightly at the noise. Heavy casually lowered his arms around her, acting as a shield against any stray shrapnel from the blast.

"Wait a minute—what the actual fuck?" someone—the RED Scout it sounded like—demanded after a few seconds of gunfire, once he'd realized none of those clothes had bodies inside them. And, just for a few seconds, the bullets stopped in confusion.

That was her cue.

Turncoat ducked beneath Heavy's forearm and sprinted forward, teleporting the second the turret came into view, and landed neatly on top of it, Converter Guns already in her hands. One fired downwards—instantly turning the sentry blue, she was pleased to note—while the other swung around to shoot the RED Engineer in the chest. He squawked in surprise as his clothes switched to the opposite Team, but Turncoat didn't stick around to hear him start cussing a blue-streak about it. She blinked away, appearing once again behind the RED Team, and started firing into their backs. At this range, she couldn't miss, and they were quite a bit distracted as the BLUs burst out of Respawn with a tumultuous roar and a storm of bullets.

A rocket exploded a few feet to her left and she ported away again, dodging and weaving from side to side as she got not only the Engineer, but their Demo and Medic, as well. The only one she couldn't convert in time, however, was the Heavy, who fell to a grenade once he was no longer being healed. She winced inwardly, her stomach twisting, and sent him a silent apology.

"Oh, crap!" the RED Scout hollered, and bolted away once he'd realized his Team was no longer on his side. Turncoat and Soldier both fired after him, but missed, and he jumped to the side and disappeared around the corner.

.oOo.

Some fifty feet away, the RED Sniper swore quietly, peering down his scope at the scene. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He had a sight on several of the BLU bastards, but they were right next to their Respawn, so there wasn't much point killing them and giving away his position.

He considered the girl in his cross-hair quietly.

She'd removed the blue parts of her outfit along with the other BLUs, obviously in order to trick the sentry, and he found himself grudgingly impressed that it had actually worked. Somehow, he doubted any of the idiots down there could have come up with such a cleverly simple tactic.

But now, she was standing out in the open, offering him a perfect target. It didn't help matters that the black bodysuit she wore underneath her uniform was hugging every curve, or that the triumphant grin she was wearing seemed to light up the whole bloody war-zone.

He could kill her now.

If he did, he'd be able to switch his Teammates back. They might have a chance in the resulting confusion to get away, or launch an attack before the BLUs could regroup.

But...they'd all know it was him.

And even though his comrades were scowling and cursing, he could tell they weren't exactly angry at her. Not when she was smiling like that, dammit. Not mocking, or bloodthirsty, or vicious—just purely happy the plan had worked, and everyone was alright for the moment. Everyone. He had no doubts that included his own mates. They might be on the opposing Team now, and clearly not happy about it, but at least they were alive. She'd tried to save at many of them as she could.

Not convert them.

Save them.

He hadn't missed the dismayed look that crossed her face when their Heavy fell, or the way she'd tried to switch over their Scout before the BLU Soldier could blast him into itty bitty pieces. She really didn't want to hurt anyone, on either side.

It didn't sit right with him, killing her. Not like this. And he got the feeling it would upset his own teammates as well, along with the BLUs, not to mention put them all in danger and possibly get a few of his allies killed if they were to switch back now.

"Piss," Sniper muttered, and scrubbed a hand down his face. He couldn't do this. Not today. Let her have her victory. If they lost, they lost. He could go one day without a bloody paycheck. With one final glance down his scope, he tipped his hat in the girl's direction, and loped off in search of999999999-

-FAULT DETECTED IN MEMORY CORE. POSSIBLE CAUSE: TIME ANOMALY HAS OCCURRED-

-CORRECTING ERROR-

"Piss," Sniper muttered, and scrubbed a hand down his face. If she'd captured anyone else, he might have just let her have her victory, this one time. But she'd taken their Medic and their Engineer. Without those two, his Team was dead in the water. He had no choice. With a heavy sigh, Sniper lifted his rifle and lined his cross-hair up with the Turncoat's pretty head...

"Sorry, sheila. Nothin' personal..."

.oOo.

"Scheisse! Dummkopfs!" Medic snarled, staring down at his suddenly blue gloves in dismay. "Ah, zis is not good."

"It's a load o' bollocks, is what it is!" the once-RED Demo complained, glaring down at his bright blue jumpsuit in undisguised disgust.

"What in Sam Hill—where the heck are yer clothes?" the Engineer demanded, before realization blossomed across his features. "Ah—dagnabbit! Ya'll tricked the sentry! Dammit!"

"Yeah, we did!" Scout crowed. "Oh, man, that was awesome! You guys should'a seen yer faces! HA! Suck it, losers!"

"Aye, it bloody worked!" Demo cheered, hefting his grenade launcher onto his shoulder and beaming. "I canna believe how easy tha' was!"

"Good job, private!" Soldier grinned, thumping Turncoat's shoulder proudly. "You deserve a medal! You all deserve - "

A single shot rang out.

The Turncoat's head jerked back with a graceful arc of blood, and she fell dead to the ground, with a neat little hole punched straight through her temples. The Medic, Engineer, and Demo all switched back to their original Team. There was a beat of silence as the two groups stared at one another, too stunned to move. And then Heavy swung around with a furious roar, his minigun spinning -

And everything went to hell.

.oOo.

Turncoat stumbled out of Respawn, shaking her hands out to try and banish the usual pins and needles, and huffed out an irritated sigh. It was rather disconcerting, celebrating with her teammates in one moment and waking up in Respawn the next without a clue how she'd gotten there or who it was that managed to completely ruin her brief little victory. At least her shredded uniform had been fully restored, so she was back in her bullet-resistant jumper...

Outside, she was met with a grisly scene.

Both the RED and BLU Demos lay almost side by side, the ground around them blackened and shredded by what looked like multiple grenade blasts. The BLU was missing an arm and a leg, and the RED's chest nothing but a horrific mess of bone and shrapnel. The BLU Scout was slumped against the wall, his baseball bat draped across his lap, and his stomach full of bullets. The BLU Heavy wasn't far from him, having collapsed over Sasha in a pool of blood, with a large hole right between his eyes. The RED Medic's body was sprawled awkwardly in the dirt, his head having rolled a few feet away. The RED Engineer looked like he might have tried to run, but had gotten a rocket in the back for his trouble, while the BLU Soldier lay spread-eagle on his back. He stared unseeingly up at the sky, clearly dead, though there were no discernible wounds on his body.

Turncoat swallowed thickly. They must have turned on one another the second she was killed. With a steadying breath, she set her jaw and began to pick her way through the bloody mess, trying not to step on any body parts.

Someone groaned.

Whirling on her heel, she saw the Scout trying to lift his head. She moved towards him at once, crouching at his side with a worried frown, and reached out to grasp his shoulder.

"Hey, look at me," she said lowly. He lifted fogged eyes, his face pinched and tight, and looked at her in confusion. He opened his mouth to try and talk, but only ended up dribbling blood onto his shirt. "Don't talk, just focus on breathing, okay? I'm gonna go get you a medkit. Sit tight and don't die, I'll be right back."

She went to stand up, but the Scout wrapped his hand around her wrist and wouldn't let go.

"Y...yo..."

"I told you not to talk," Turncoat said firmly, pulling her arm out of the boy's weak grasp. "I'll be right back, I promise."

Without waiting for an answer, she hurried back into the Respawn Room, and went straight to the medical cabinet. Inside were a neat little stack of tin boxes, and she pulled one out, swiftly checking the contents before returning to Scout.

Only someone else had gotten to him first.

The BLU Medic stood over the boy, and for a moment Turncoat breathed a sigh of relief at seeing him.

Only...something wasn't right. His medigun wasn't turned on, and there was a cold smile twisting his lip. The Scout was struggling to say something through the blood frothing past his lips, but he only managed a rattling wheeze through the hole in his punctured lung.

Then the Medic drew a silver revolver, aimed it right between the Scout's eyes, and coolly cocked the trigger.

"No!" Turncoat shouted, just as the man fired. Scout jerked and went still. The BLU Medic disappeared, fizzling out like a holographic projection, and a slender man wearing a red pin-striped suit stood in his place. The man looked up her, a cigarette clamped firmly between his teeth, and wicked smile curling the corner of his mouth. He gave her a mocking little bow, and vanished into thin air. A chill trickled down her back, raising goosebumps all along her arms. With one last look at Scout, she teleported away and ran -

Straight into the RED Pyro.

The masked man -woman? - cocked his head, the flame-thrower hovering just beneath her chin. Turncoat knew she only had a few seconds, that she needed to blink away, get out of there fast, but her brain stuttered as she stared up into those soulless black eyes -

Then a hard blast of hot air hit her full in the face, and she fell back into a pair of invisible arms with a startled yelp.

A voice chuckled quietly in her ear, and for an instant she froze, feeling the tip of a knife graze her lower spine. Then someone gently pressed the button at her back, and her uniform turned red.

"Greetings, mademoiselle," said the voice, and Turncoat looked up into a pair of impossibly blue eyes. "We were not properly introduced before. I am zhe Spy. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, mon cher."

Jaw working, Turncoat tried to move away from him. He smirked, gently grasped her hand, and twirled her around like a ballroom dancer. Leaning down, his gaze locked onto hers, he brushed her knuckles with his lips. She jerked her hand away as if he'd burned her, and scrambled backwards, nearly running into Pyro. The Spy laughed quietly at the blush staining her pretty cheeks and shook his head.

"My apologies," he said. "I forgot most of you Americans are not used to displays of chivalry."

"...that's not it," Turncoat said, finally finding her voice.

She glanced at the dead Scout, a fine tremor running through her body. The Spy followed her gaze, and delicately arched a meticulously shaped brow.

"Ah," he said, regarding her with a measuring eye, wondering what she would do. She'd clearly grown somewhat attached to the BLUs during her short time with them, and seeing them slaughtered was obviously upsetting. He could understand, a little, of what she was going through. He spent quite a lot of time mingling with the BLUs himself, but he'd always remained detached and professional. It was his job to stab them in the back, after all. It helped, though, that he'd never really been on their side. But she had been, right up until she was switched to the opposing Team. He could tell she was struggling with it, by her clenched fists and short breaths.

But after a moment, she shook her head, and schooled her expression into a calm mask.

"I'm sorry," she said politely, nodding to him. "It's...nice to meet you, Spy."

Spy blinked, the hint of a pleased smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. Surprisingly, it looked like she meant it. There wasn't a hint of blame or accusation in her eyes. Just a tired resignation, and...the spark of something else, but buried too deep for him to see. A hint of steel, like a blade in the dark.

But he got the feeling it wasn't directed at him, because it sharpened when she glanced up at the camera mounted above them on the wall, narrowing to a laser-point as she stared directly into the lens.

Then she blinked, and it was gone.

He'd been right.

He was going to have to keep an eye on her.

.oOo.

The Administrator took a long drag from her cigarette, and breathed out a lungful of smoke that wreathed through her dark hair, and cast eerie shadows across her ghoulish face. Her long nails drummed a steady beat across the surface of her desk as she regarded the monitor before her with sharp, narrow eyes.

Miss Pauling hovered at her shoulder, clipboard clutched to her chest like it was some kind of shield and not the flimsy bit of laminated cardboard it actually was.

"Miss Pauling," the Administrator finally said after a long, tense silence. "Isn't there something in the mercenaries' contracts about removing their uniforms?"

"Um...no, ma'am," Miss Pauling said, her tone filled with something a lot like dread. "We, um, didn't think it was necessary to…I mean, the Head of Contracting didn't think to include…"

"An egregious oversight, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, yes ma'am, absolutely."

"Have the Head of Contracting removed," the Administrator said softly, delicately tapping the ash off the end of her cigarette. "And by removed, I naturally mean, remove his head."

"Yes, of course."

"As for the Turncoat…" the Administrator continued, watching as the girl in question looked right into the camera, the edge of something dangerous in her eyes. "Things are...not progressing as I expected."

She stopped to take another drag, still watching the screen intently.

"Take care of it, Miss Pauling."

-END TRANSMISSION-


*Fickfehler: Basically a fuck error, like someone whose birth was a complete accident. German insults are fun.

*Was zur holle: What the hell

*GottverdammtIch werde dich langsam töten, wenn ich hier raus...: God damn it...I will kill you slowly, when I get out of here... (at least according to Google translations)

Also, this ONE day has literally gone on for seven freaking chapters. I will move on eventually. I will move on in the next chapter. I WILL. There are just so many things that keep happening, dammit! So many scenarios! So little time!

Anyway, let me know how I'm doing! I would love to hear some feedback from ya'll. I made a bit of a mistake last chapter or so, when I said I've gotten 300 views—that was just the first chapter. It's over a thousand right now! I'm so happy this has gotten so much attention! So thank you, to everyone that's stopped to read this silly little fic of mine.