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.

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It was still raining in the morning when everyone woke up, a soft and misty sort of rain that barely added to the puddles that had formed overnight.

Red team perched at the forefront of its base, everyone antsy and unsure of what was to come during the day. Would Blu bolster its defenses? Would they launch a revenge attack? An eerie quiet sat outside, birds and wildlife seeming hushed this morning as though the day prior had scared it all away..

Their Spies woke early like clockwork and slowly gathered together as they always did in the briefing room.

The Sniper's friend? He arrived last as he rubbed drowsiness from his eyes and caressed the sore patch on his neck. That damn needle.. It'd gone in crookedly due to his struggle in the Blu base though he wouldn't dare go to the Medic about it. As he sank wordlessly into a chair facing the large blackboard at the back of the room, he sighed and ignored the other men who were standing around chatting. It seemed too early to smoke, only one or two of the Spies doing so at the moment.

An unexpected pair of forearms draped themselves over his shoulders, a lit cigarette loosely-held in one of the hands attached.

"Heheh.. Out late last night, were you not?"

He tilted his head back in order to stare into the smiling green eyes of the Spy who had approached him. "'Mmf," was as intelligent a reply as he could manage before the Spy grinned and moved to sit beside him.

The cigarette entered his mouth, "So tell me, what happened? We all had feared the worst.."

The other men seemed distracted for the moment which was fine by the Red Spy. He needed a few minutes to get his act together before initiating a briefing session. Pinching his nose in a fashion similar to that of his friend, the Red Spy smiled and tried to relax, "Get comfortable, I have much to tell everyone.."

Eyes lit with interest, the emerald-eyed Spy leaned forward, "So you made it inside?"

"I was captured before I could take anyzhing. However.." narrowing his eyes at the man's cigarette, he reached forward and simply took it for himself, "Borrowing zhis."

"By all means," his comrade answered with an amused laugh. He could tell the fellow Red was concerned about the things he was going to say. If it meant losing his cigarette to hear them then of course it was a reasonable sacrifice.

"However, I did see a lot. Zhey are performing zhe experiments and zhey are doing so on zheir own men."

"..mon dieu."

"Oui, Monsieur. Oui.." He stood then, walking up to the board and starting to erase the intricate battle plans left there by the Soldiers from before the last battle.

The cigless Spy looked down at his lap and blinked gently before he too stood and went to gather the others. One by one they looked over to where the Red Spy was chalking things up. It was strange.. usually only the Soldiers and Engineers used the damn thing. Spies could usually just speak their minds and be understood quite elegantly. Visual aids were hardly necessary for men of such charisma.

..unless this was a situation which direly called for one.

And so it happened that all four of the other Spies stared at the Sniper's friend, watching him jot relentlessly on the board with one hand tucked behind his back and an occasional puff of smoke wafting away from his face. He also appeared to be.. drawing?

The men assumed impromptu sitting positions like students preparing for class, some on the tables, one in a chair, and another standing with a hand in his pocket while the other tugged anxiously at the knot of his tie.

The Red Spy stopped writing, peering downward before he turned halfway and examined his colleagues with the piece of chalk still in his hand. They looked from him to what he had written, seeing a few hastily-drawn diagrams, one of which reminded them of a jellyfish.. His voice interrupted their examination, drawing their attentions right back to him as he turned away from the board and took to pacing.

"Jhentlemen, I fear zhat I must bring you some bad news.." He pointed at the board with his chalk, "Zhe enemy is attempting to change zhe way we wage war. Zhe chemicals? Yes.. we know of zhem. I fell victim to zheir newest sedative last evening as I was about to discover yet anozher of zheir filthy secrets."

The man paused to blow some smoke up at the ceiling, shaking his chalk at the assembled Spies, "Zhey are experimenting in genetics, Messieurs.. Zhey are turning men into monsters within zheir secret labs."

Silence swept the room as the Red Spy grew quiet.

Soon they were all looking at the board again as the Spy approached it and began to explain his diagrams. The building layout, the inter-connected sewers, the few things he had managed to read of the papers he'd wanted to take, and finally.. the jellyfish diagram.

It wasn't a jellyfish as the men soon learned. It was one of the monsters he had spoken of who, in addition to assisting in his escape, also wished for asylum under the Red banner. The Red Spy was met with angered resistance and suspicion though he made quite sure to talk over everyone until he had utter control again.

"Jhentlemen," he said with a powerful sneer. They reluctantly fell back in their complaints.

"He has.. information. What eez more, he has not made any attempts to apprehend me or infiltrate zhis base. As it happens, I know exactly where he is staying and where he shall continue to stay should we decide to appease his request."

"Monsieur Spy, what makes you think he is not simply using you?"

"I do not zhink, Monsieur, I know he is not," he waved his chalk around dismissively before setting it down, "Much as our Sniper defected, I do believe zhe torments of zhe Blus have disgusted even zhis monstrosity of which I speak. And.. if your insecurities are not yet satisfied, zhen say zhe word and I shall bring you all to him for questioning."

The Spies looked at each other, mulling over the idea in utter silence before the green-eyed Spy crushed his cigarette in a nearby ashtray and nodded slowly, "Well.. Zhen allow me to say zhe word, Monsieur."

Laying in his bed, the Red Sniper stared up at his ceiling.

He'd already looked at his watch. 10:30 in the morning and he still felt tired. Was he really tired or was it laziness? He decided to laze there and think about it for another thirty minutes before emerging from his room and heading for the mess hall with his white mug clutched against his chest.

Not thirteen minutes later and he was sitting at a table by himself drinking the most satisfying coffee in the entire world.

"Batta SWING!"

The Sniper almost choked on his coffee as he ducked his head down to avoid a baseball that went sailing overhead, "Oh b-bloody.. SCOUT!"

Thwok!

Someone hit it back across the room to where the blonde Scout who'd hit it initially was waiting with his bat. The Sniper looked behind him, finding the brunette Scout that usually accompanied him standing there with a big stupid grin on his face.

"Ten points if you hit the Sniper!" the blonde chirped as his expression turned devious and he hit the ball close to but not directly at the Aussie.

The man put a hand to his hat and grumbled some very dirty things into his coffee as the ball whizzed by. The blonde? He'd just been talking to the little piker yesterday! Hadn't he learned? Several taunting passes of the ball later and he simply reached up and plucked it right out of the air.

It hit his palm hard, leaving a sting in it that would surely bruise. Ah.. but he hardly cared. He had the damn whizzing object in his hold and he was not about to simply give it back.

"Hey-hey!" the brunette called, looking impressed, "Nice fuckin' catch, dude. C'mon, toss it here."

"Oy don't think so, mate," He lowered his catching hand to his lap and leaned back in his chair as he continued to sip his coffee.

"Oh come on, fuck you," the blonde said as he came trotting over, "Give it back, we were just messin', man."

"You kiss your mum with that mouth?"

"Hey, dun talk about my ma'!"

The brunette walked over too, his bat up on one shoulder, "Great job, dude, you pissed off Captain Kangaroo."

"Wasn't my fault, man. Fuck off."

"No, you fuck off!"

"Why don't you boys have some breakfast?" he idly smelled his coffee, adding, "Come to think of it Oy don't think I''ve ever seen a Scout eat anything."

"Give us back our ball."

"Have breakfast first."

"You are fucking joking.."

The Sniper just smiled pointedly at the boys, unmoving.

"God damnit, you think you're my fucking dad or something?"

"Fucking unbelievable, dude."

"Friggen sucks on ice, man.."

The two grudgingly moved toward the kitchen. They'd been so eager to get up and at 'em, they'd honestly forgotten the very important idea of actually eating something. It happened a lot which is why the Scouts could often be found in the mess hall after midnight eating the dinner they'd forgotten about during the evening. It was also why many of them were so scrawny..

Chuckling, the Sniper continued sipping his coffee and set the ball down beside his mug as he thumbed through a magazine.