It had been a long week for everyone. Friday had ended in stalemate, which satisfied nobody, and the Administrator had chewed BLU out over their lack of success. She'd also chewed out RED, of course, but that was cold comfort.

With the weekend ahead of them, the team had therefore reached a silent and unanimous agreement to get thoroughly drunk. They'd been working hard at it for a while now.

Spy planned to do the same, but had privately decided he had reached his quota of dealing with other people for the day. Besides, some quiet time in his rooms with the best wine on the base would give him time to plan his next move in the Sniper Campaign. The red dot seemed to be taking a break tonight, and Spy intended to make the most of it.

He'd already drunk everything in his room, though, and the good (well, 'good') wine was in the canteen with much of the team. He hovered outside the room for a moment and wished, not for the first time, that he had a watch that could make him invisible to his allies as well as enemies.

"…and he says, 'I don't have time for this, Scout, shoot through,' or something, I dunno, something weird and Australian anyways, and I says 'Oh, you have time for me all right, I'm the real deal here,' 'cos it's true, and I says 'You haven't tagged me in forever old man. Like are you losing your touch or am I too fast for you?' and he says 'I'm hunting more dangerous game' which is ridiculous because I am THE MOST dangerous batter on the field -"

Scout kept rambling, but the attention of the room was elsewhere now.

Medic's voice said slowly, "I can only recall dying by his rifle zwei times today and much the same in recent days - veeks? He usually goes for me first due to the Übercharge. Heavy?"

"I have only three times been shot by big baby bullet."

"Weeeeell, now that I come to think on it…" That was Engie's twang. "I ain't been perforated all that oft'n myself. Haven't seen hide nor hair of him."

"Mmph."

Spy supposed Pyro was holding up fingers. He couldn't see them, eavesdropping around the corner as he was.

There was the characteristic sound of Soldier exploding into the room through a window. "THE KANGAROO-LICKER HASN'T HAD THE GUTS TO END MY GOD-FEARING LIFE." Glass tinkled to the ground.

He added, in what qualified for him as sotto voce, "OTHER THAN THOSE THREE TIMES BUT THAT WAS LUCK." He then proceeded to explode out of the room again.

BLU Sniper's voice came next, as calm as if this was an everyday occurrence. Which it, sadly, was. "Caught him through my scope a few times today. Not enough for more than a winging shot. Thought he was just playing a different part of the field."

There was a pause, then the sound of a sleepy snort. Spy edged into the room, going for inconspicuous on his way to the wine rack.

"Demoman? If you do not vake from your stupor I shall remove your liver."

"Wuh? Nay lad, he and our Spy been havin' a tiff is all."

Scout, unfortunately, had noticed Spy's entrance. "Yeah, hey Spy, didja two have some kinda gay-ass lover's spat or something?"

Spy provided absolutely no reaction to this accusation. Which, he belatedly realized, might have been a reaction in itself. "I beg your pardon?"

" 'Cos he looked pretty pissy and pleased at the same time, if you know what I mean. Like he was mad and getting back at you for it."

Spy waved a dismissive hand. "I have no idea what you mean. Return to your urine-scented beer and cease pestering me."

"Hey! It is not -"

"It would certainly explain some things," mused Medic. "We have not been sniped so much in the past few weeks, but if RED isn't getting stabbed either because the two of them have been busy canoodling…" He said the word like it was an exciting new medical condition you could die horribly from.

"I think it's romantic," sighed Demo. "Star-crossed lovers 'n all."

He stood, laying one hand on his heart and gesturing the other vaguely off into the distance, and started declaiming.

"I watched thee when the foe was at our side
Ready to strike at him-or thee and me,
Were safety hopeless-rather than divide
Aught with one loved, save love and liberty.
"

He sniffed, and wiped away a tear. "Tha's poetry for ye." He inhaled hugely to continue in his recitation.

Spy just wanted to get his wine and leave. But first he needed to cut this line of inquiry at the root. "Surely you are not referring to the RED Sniper and I? The fact that you seem to believe me capable of entering any kind of relationship other than unmitigated enmity with that boorish, barbaric, filthy excuse for a human being is an insult to both myself and the poor overtaxed creature you call a brain." Spy paused. "No offense intended, Sniper." He nodded to the lanky figure sprawled in a chair in the corner.

"None taken," came the calm answer. "And the idea that anyone at all similar to myself would get mixed up with a slimy backstabbin' venomous weasel like yourself stinks more than a three-week-dead jumbuck." He paused theatrically. "No offense."

The loudspeaker crackled with static, then resolved. "Pauling here. It's been obvious. You've been so up-and-down recently. One day you're pleased with yourself, the next sulking -

"Sulking?!" interrupted Spy, affronted.

"- and distracted. It's obvious you've been grieving this relationship and pining for your man. Pauling out."

"Pining?!" A vein was throbbing in Spy's forehead.

Heavy nodded. "Spy spending much time away from base. Trying to skip Game Night. Is bad to let lover isolate little Spy from support network." He cocked his head. "Pacing. Passing notes."

"Pacing!" echoed Scout, nodding vigorously. "Passing notes! Wait, what -"

Spy glared. The big oaf was laughing, he could tell. "I always spend much of my time away from base, to attempt to get away from all of you cretinous minchioni." He plucked a random bottle from the rack and spun on his heel to stalk out dramatically.

But broad, solid, and utterly oblivious to subtle and unsubtle hints alike, Soldier had returned and was blocking the door.

BLU Sniper pretended to study the malnutrition facts on the back of his beer can. "There's been a red tracer dot following Spy around the base for a while now."

That got everyone's attention. Spy started mentally listing obscenities in Castilian Spanish.

Medic leaned forward. "But never firing? I haven't heard anything."

"Don't think so," said Sniper. "Just watching Spy and no one else as far as I can tell."

Spy shrugged. "Yet another move in our usual back-and-forth. I torture his mind and play with his sense of reality, and he aims a laser pointer at me. The bushman is seriously outclassed." He tried a smirk.

Engie frowned. "Seems a bit excessive though, if ya ask me. Outside of work hours 'n all. Surveillance like that can drive a man mad." He tapped his head. "Unless, o'course, you have my new implants that help regulate -"

"And when convulsive throes denied my breath
The faultest utterance to my fading thought,
To thee-to thee-e'en in the gasp of death
My spirit turned, oh! oftener than it ought.
"

Spy ground his teeth.

Pyro pulled out a tooty-horn-mechanism (Spy was still tracking down the last few) and pressed the button. "Mmph."

Spy shot them a dirty look, and mentally upgraded to Basque for the obscenity recitation.

Scout jumped to his feet. "Yeah, that's right! I was only talking to that guy in the first place because you asked for help! Our Spy, asking the team for help, and against the enemy Sniper of all people. It's frigging NUTS."

Heavy frowned. "So RED Sniper is bullying little Spy. Is not right."

Medic focused his unnervingly unblinking gaze on Spy. "Und how many times have you died to their Sniper recently, Spy?"

"Oh, a few times. I have killed him a few more." Spy sighed and waved a seemingly-languid hand. "I suppose you could say we are having a little competition to outdo each other. A little psychological warfare, on and off the field. That is all. You all are making a mountain out of a dungheap, I assure you."

This jolted Demo out of his byronic haze. "Nay, I saw yez! I turned the corner t' other day and there you two were, fightin' and snoggin' - "

As he continued the tale to his fascinated audience, Spy cringed inwardly harder and harder.

He imagined what it must have looked like from Demo's point of view. Spy with his back against the wall, Sniper bending close over him, the two of them speaking in low, intense voices. Ugh, had it looked like they were holding hands, even? Disgusting. And then -

He winced internally. It was damning. He tried to deflect anyway.

"On the contrary, the Sniper had come back to taunt me with that awful bow of his, and as someone with more than two brain cells to rub together I knew that the more time he was distracted with me, the more time he wasn't spending with your various heads in his sights." He gave Demo a supercilious lip-curl. "I don't expect you all to understand the…intricacies of my role."

Scout sniggered. "Ooohoohoo I bet you kept him distracted all right." He salaciously wiggled his eyebrows. Or at least, Spy thought that's what he was attempting to do. It mostly just looked like he was scrunching his face up and down.

"SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY?" roared Soldier, then paused. "OH RIGHT, YOU'RE A SPY. GOOD WORK THAT MAN, GIVE HIM A MEDAL." He remained solidly blocking the exit, and Spy started seriously considering friendly fire. Or diving through the broken window.

"Mmph," Pyro said emphatically, pointing.

Engie frowned. "Pyro's right. He still pinned you on the wall and came back to taunt you. That's unsportsmanlike. Ain't right for you needin' to use your manly wiles on him to get out of it."

Spy hid a twitch as his own words came back to bite him. "In truth I have not been entirely…sportsmanlike myself -" Avoiding Heavy's ironical eye, he added hurriedly, "I assure you, everything is entirely under control."

"Well it is no wonder you acted that way! You were reacting emotionally, he'd just broken your heart," soothed Medic. "Don't vorry. I shall extract his heart and replace yours with his, and you shall be just as good as new."

He rose, slightly unsteadily, and carefully put down his stein. "Give me one minute and I shall get my bonesaw -"

"Not sure about surgery," cut in Sniper, "but that emu-shagger needs a talk about professionalism. Disgrace to the uniform, simple as." He sniffed.

Spy's hands were damp in his gloves. "There is no need for this, I have the situation entirely handled without you all blundering in -"

"If you had it handled, it would never have gotten this far," said Engie, earnestly. "This just ain't right."

Spy opened his mouth to, somehow, turn this careening bomb cart of a conversation around. But why hadn't he put a stop to all this?

Very, very quietly in the darkest, most secret, most inadmissible part of his mind, Spy admitted to himself that he hadn't believed in quite a while now that Sniper was a diabolical chess master, dueling with him in a battle of cunning wits. Had he ever, truly?

No, Spy had struck back against that inexplicable first move because he'd felt uncomfortable, off-balance for once in his career. And Sniper had responded so delightfully in ways that kept surprising him, and Spy had been having so much fun he hadn't wanted to stop. Strange fun, yes. Challenging, sometimes stressful fun. But not - he realized, with growing horror - not a fun he could've had with anyone else.

Il vaut mieux suer que trembler. Spy had fooled himself, but apparently no one else.

Spy hadn't ended all this nonsense…because when you got down to it, he'd been enjoying Sniper.

Because despite all of Spy's best efforts these past weeks, Sniper remained, at his core, a pillar of quiet confidence, a solid bulwark of unflappability in a world of exhausting chaos and frenzied tedium. And Spy had so desperately wanted that for himself, as a drowning man might claw for solid rock.

Because Sniper was refreshingly honest, refreshingly awkward, as refreshing as the scent of peppermint and eucalyptus in a dusty wasteland. He was an endless, crisp font of sly jokes and unwarranted kindnesses and secrets told to his worst enemy.

Because when Sniper - normally so slouched and hidden behind the shades and hat brim - turned the great, precise, careful intensity of his grey focus on Spy, he felt like the exhilarated, sand-blasted center of the universe.

Because of the damned quirk of Sniper's lopsided smile, inviting Spy in on a private joke.

Because - Because -

Oh merde. Putain de merde, bordel de merde, putain de bordel de merde de merde de merde de merde -

Engie, who had been watching his face, misunderstood completely. "There's no shame in asking for help, son. Having a partner means you treat them with respect, dignity, and love." He absently patted the wrench hanging from his belt.

"Oh MAN am I ready to beat up your ex, this is gonna be wicked." Scout was bouncing on his feet, looking ready to bounce off the walls as well at a moment's notice. "Should I get my bat? I should get my bat. Imma go get my bat." He dashed out of the room.

Heavy looked thoughtful. "I think fists are good enough for tiny baby Sniper." He cracked his knuckles enormously and smiled. There was a faint echo from the crack.

Meanwhile, Soldier was working out the logic on his fingers. "AN ATTACK AGAINST MY MEN IS AN ATTACK ON ALL OF US. THEREFORE THE RED SNIPER HAS UNJUSTLY BROKEN UP WITH ALL OF US. THEREFORE THEREFORE HE HAS CRUELY SPURNED US AND THERE'S NO WAY WE'RE GOING TO LET THAT COMMIE RED PLATYPUS-SNUGGLER GET AWAY WITH IT."

His face crumpled in thought, then cleared. "I'M GOING TO KEY HIS CAR."

In utter desperation, Spy looked finally to Pyro.

Pyro was, somehow, already holding a flaming torch and a pitchfork. "Mmph!" they said, happily.

As they all piled out in different stages of inebriation and fury, Demo turned back to Spy and winked. (Probably. It was hard to tell.)

"The earthquake came, and rocked the quivering
And men and nature reeled as if with wine.
Whom did I seek around the tottering hall?
For thee. Whose safety first provide for? Thine.
"

"Do not worry, my friend," called Medic over his shoulder, and gave what he probably thought was a comforting smile. "That Schwein shall regret everything he's done to you! Everything he's done in his entire pathetic life, in fact!" He laughed, then, voice jumping octaves into madness.

Spy had a sudden mental image of Sniper's head hooked up to a battery in Medic's refrigerator. He reflexively rubbed his neck as the memories crowded in.

Swallowing down nausea, Spy fled.

And the last stanza of that poem - the one Demo hadn't said - repeated sickeningly in his mind.


A/N:

Ah, yes, the chapter in which Spy discovers that other people can and will see what's right in front of their faces, even if he refuses to. They're just, er, a little off the mark, a little behind the times.

Demo's poem there is "Love and Death," by Scottish bisexual Lord Byron, published in 1824. He jumbles the verses, but the poem is quite beautiful and homoromantic and I'd recommend reading it in full. The last stanza goes thusly:

Thus much and more; and yet thou lov'st me not,

And never wilt! Love dwells not in our will.

Nor can I blame thee, though it be my lot

To strongly, wrongly, vainly love thee still.

jumbuck - Aussie; a sheep

minchioni - Italian; simpletons

emu-shagger - Kiwi; rude name for an Aussie, equivalent to "sheep-shagger." "Snake-sucker" is another one, but I thought that might give you perverts the wrong idea.

Schwein - German; literally "pig," but more generally "asshole"

"Il vaut mieux suer que trembler" - idiomatically, "stop living in denial"

And, at long last, French obscenities.


bingus1man - Oh absolutely, those two just love smacking into each other in mid-air. Absolutely no sense of self-preservation lol