Hai everybody ;) I hath return-ed. I must apologize for being so late on this post. I usually have a few chapters already written, and when I get 3-4 chapters ahead of the next to-be-posted chapter, I post that chapter. Now I'm about six chapters ahead. Woo!

I sort of lost contact with my editor. He usually goes over my stuff, highlights the blatant mispellings and terribad gremmar, and gives me a piece of candy for being so dilligent.

Heed thine wharning, teh Mecrosawft Werd doesn't fix slippery-keyboard syndrome and those moments where I can't figure out why it's underlined an entire paragraph in green and suggests I rewrite it without giving me a reason. It's too much like my high school English teacher, so I ignore it after ten minutes of intense pondering.

Much loves,

Dreadd

PS-- If you ordered L4D2 you get an awesome hat in TF2. Henceforth, I think Soldier is ten times more sexy than he was previously.

Pyro dug through her closet, haphazardly tossing items piled behind the door into a towering mess in the center of the room. As Ms. Blu explained, a tailor would be coming today to fit them for formal wear, the cost of which they had to pay for personally. Not wanting to put forth her hard earned cash, she dug through her closet in hopes of finding something relatively appropriate.

Most of the closet consisted of half-full oxygen tanks, spare parts to flame throwers and a pair of rusty fire axes (Pyro grinned when she found these, thinking back to Engineer and Demoman wrestling in the hallway). As for clothing, she'd discovered a brand new pair of asbestos lined boots that were a half size too large and one melted glove.

It'd been three years (almost four, she reminded herself) since she'd been hired as a pyro technician by Builders League United. The only thing she'd brought to the base was a backpack full of personal clothing, but for the life of her couldn't recall what had happened to it. She'd been provided white boxers, undershirts, socks and some generic men's clothing (it would be suspicious if anyone found women's clothes being sent through the laundry service) and hadn't the need to wear anything she brought.

Pyro stood up and shook her head back and forth, whipping around her damp hair. Despite only wearing a tank top and boxers she'd broken a sweat while clearing out the unpromising, endless depths of her closet.

Yesterday Spy had advised against her visiting Engineer, and so far she'd heeded his warning. She felt strange taking Spy's word over Medic's, but Spy had given her a halfway decent explanation where Medic had not.

She hadn't even spoken to Medic since their scuffle yesterday, and figured that he probably didn't want to see her. Pyro supposed she'd apologize when the tailor arrived and they were brought out to the common area to get measured. Then again, that probably wasn't a very tactful idea to bring up his being kneed in the crotch in front of the entire team. Hopefully she could catch Medic in the infirmary before seeing the tailor, and get out an apology.

After another half hour of fruitlessly hunting through her closet, Pyro glanced at the clock on her wall. She groaned and threw on her jumpsuit, sprinting to the infirmary showers to rinse off before making her way to the tailor.

Sniper stood before the supply closet outside of Medic's office, sorting through each glass bottle and box for chloroform.

"Shonky practice ya got 'ere, Doc," Sniper whispered irritably. Every label was in German. The only way you could tell what the bottle or box was, was by finding the number on the bottle and cross referencing it to a hand-written sheet Medic had pinned to the inside of the supply closet.

"Useful as tits on a bull," Sniper growled as he ran his finger down the supply list, trying to decipher Medic's loopy, illegible scrawl.

About the same time Sniper was ready to give up and call the alarm for Medic, he peeked his head around the supply closet at the sound of someone jogging down the hallway.

"Arvo, Sheila," Sniper greeted as a sweaty looking Pyro slowed to a fast walk.

"It's still eleven-thirty I thought," she said, stopping beside Sniper and catching her breath.

Sniper pushed up his sleeve and checked his watch, "Too right," he commented shortly and continued his search, aware of Pyro leaning over his shoulder.

"Lookin' for something?"

Sniper turned away from the closet, fighting the urge to berate Pyro about minding her own business, when an obscure idea made him stare her down instead, the gears in his mind turning.

Pyro pushed her sweaty hair away from her face and raised an eyebrow, "Last time I saw that look you asked me if I'd flush REDs out of a barn full of hay and kerosene."

Sniper absent mindedly returned the bottle to the supply closet (on the wrong shelf), suddenly fascinated by his only female team mate.

"You look like you could be an angel," he said quietly, looking Pyro over. Scout did have something for Pyro, and it could be advantageous to his current dilemma. If Scout thought he were the devil, perhaps it wouldn't be too farfetched for him to think Pyro were an angel sent to rescue him. He'd be much more manageable.

Sniper blinked himself out of the back of his mind and returned to the hallway in front of Medic's office where he had been inadvertently giving Pyro a peculiar glare.

"Yeeeaah, about that…" Pyro slowly strafed away from Sniper toward the door to the infirmary.

"No no, listen."

"I think I've heard just about enough," Pyro reached into her jumpsuit pocket and pulled out a key, using it to unlock the infirmary door.

"How'd you get a key?" Sniper asked as he shut the supply closet, his full attention on Pyro.

"Where do you think I shower?"

"Good point. Listen, this is gonna to be hard ta' believe, but trust me. It's for Scout's well being. We're strapped for time."

"You've already crossed the line into creep territory. Next stop will be much more painful than a cold shoulder. Best to keep your mouth shut while you're ahead," Pyro explained as she opened the infirmary door enough to wedge herself inside, purposefully making it difficult for Sniper to follow.

Sniper groaned and bit his tongue. He had to say something to get her to listen before she shut the door on him for good.

"I've uhh, well, you see," Sniper removed his hat and fumbled with the brim. "There was this job that I had," he said nervously, diverting his gaze from Pyro who hid the most of her body behind the door, keeping a wide enough opening so her face would fit. She stared at him un-amused.

"I had this job way back when. I'm not proud of it mind you. See I—"

"Are you going to keep stuttering or get to the point?" she glowered impatiently.

"Scout may or may not have swallowed an experimental animal sedative," said Sniper quickly, his teeth clenched.

"You gave Scout an animal sedative," Pyro asked monotonously, her expression unchanged.

"Experimental animal sedative--"

Pyro held up her hand and interrupted Sniper to inquire in a stern, accusatory voice inherent to probably every woman, "Did you drug Scout?

"Well, no," he bowed his head, guiltily dissecting the fraying lip of his Panama hat.

"So Scout swallowed it on his own?"

Sniper sighed and pressed his eyes below his glasses, fully aware that Pyro was leading him to indict himself and replied wearily, "Yes."

"Did he know what it was?"

"Pssh of course he didn't know what it was!" Sniper jeered.

"And it was yours?"

"Well, yeah I—"

Pyro threw open the door and launched her forearm at Sniper's throat, catching him off guard and causing him to stumble back into the wall. "What the fuck is wrong with you! And to think everyone thought Soldier was a nut job! You sick fuck, we trusted you!"

"No, wait," Sniper coughed, "It was an accident!" he yelled, holding his attacker at bay the best he could with one arm, his other held tight onto his hat.

Pyro wedged her elbow through Sniper's block and pressed it hard into his stomach directly below his ribs.

"Drugging Scout was an accident! I didn't poison any coffee! Don't go bonkers on me now, when I need you," Sniper shut his eyes tight and grabbed onto Pyro's arm to try and roll out of her grip.

"Look at me," Pyro shook Sniper, "Look at me and tell me you're innocent."

Sniper gasped and obliged, staring directly into Pyro's furious green eyes, "I didn't poison the coffee, and I didn't drug Scout."

Pyro jolted hard into the tender spot below his sternum.

Sniper cringed, "I didn't drug Scout on purpose," he rattled.

After a moment of deliberation she removed her elbow from Sniper, who exhaled noisily and grabbed his stomach, the color rushing back into his face.

"Either you've been taking lessons from that bastard Frenchman, or you're telling the truth."

"Appreciate the confidence," Sniper said roughly as he straightened his shirt. He'd be lying if he said he didn't admire Pyro's adamant distrust. It was the same quality that kept him alive for his tenure at BLU; he couldn't hold it against her for being scrupulous with her life and the lives of her comrades.

Pyro nodded, ruffled her hair and cracked her knuckles, "So, do I still look like I could be an angel?"