Hi Everyone! This fandom hit me right between the eyes about two weeks ago, and this plot idea has been kicking around in my head ever since! I am so glad that this fandom is still alive and well, and I think the world could use more Speeding Bullet, so here you go!

On With The Story!

"I'm just saying, if it weren't for the long range weapons the other team has, no one would be able to kill me!" Scout told the rest of the RED team, who were slouched in various positions around the base's rec room. After their match that afternoon had been won, it had been revealed that Scout had captured the most points, resulting in the young man receiving a most unneeded ego boost.

Spy looked up from his novella, some fancy French text that Scout couldn't decipher if he tried, and scoffed. "Correct me if I am wrong, but my BLU counterpart managed to backstab you not once, but twice, non?"

Scout shrugged. "Yeah, but you spooks have an unfair advantage since you can go invisible an' shapeshift. If the BLU spy was just chasing me, he'd never catch me!"

Spy raised an eyebrow and went back to his book, but Scout, running on a high of adrenaline and BONK!, plowed on. "Honestly, I don't think none of ya could!"

The rest of the RED team was silent for a minute, some glaring at the cocky young man, some regarding him with mild interest and amusement. Then, a deep, accented voice spoke up from the back of the room.

"You sure about that, mate?"

All heads swiveled to the man, who had yet to have spoken since the match ended. He continued to clean his rifle, giving Scout a challenging look from behind his sunglasses.

The younger man loped across the room to stand in front of the Sniper in what he hoped was a threatening manner. "Ya got something to say, Snipes?"

"I could catch ya." Was all he got in response, as the older man turned his attention back to his weapon.

Scout, impulsive as ever, grabbed the barrel of the gun, jolsting Sniper's grip enough that he looked up to glare at him.

"What are ya doin, ya mongrel? What if the bloody thing was loaded?"

Scout just shrugged. "I know ya never clean a loaded weapon. Now, what the fuck do you mean, you could catch me? Last time I checked, you're one of the slowest of all'a us!"

Jerking his rifle away from Scout, Sniper regarded him with an unreadable expression. "Before I came here, I was an assassin. My job was to catch and kill whoever people wanted me to." He looked pointedly at Scout. "Whether they held still or not."

The runner crossed his arms. "Yea, yea, we know ya were a sniper before coming here. But without that rifle, I bet ya couldn't kill a mosquito!"

A few of the mercs chuckled at that, but Sniper remained unphased. "It's hard to snipe someone if they won't stop moving. Ya wouldn't be the first one I've had to take down at close range, and ya wouldn't be a challenge."

The younger mercenary bristled at this statement, and his pride prompted him to, as usual, speak before he considered his words. He stomped closer to the Sniper, glaring into the man's eyes. "Wanna bet?"

Although his expression was still neutral, Scout could see a glimmer of intrigue in the steely grey eyes. Sniper set his rifle aside and leaned back in his chair. "You sure you know what you're gettin' yaself into, mate?"

Scout glowered back at him. "Yea, but do you?"

To his surprise, Sniper looked somewhat reluctant. "Look kid…I wouldn't go easy on you, and you're used to running into fights, not evading capture…it wouldn't be fair."

And there it was. That same patronising tone of voice he had heard all his life whenever someone told him 'You're too young, you're too small, you wouldn't understand, you're just a dumb kid.'

Scout felt his hands ball into fists at his sides.

He had proved all of them wrong, because even if he wasn't the strongest or the biggest in his family or on the team, he was the fastest, and no one could touch him when he was running. It hurt him that Sniper, one of the mercs that he truly considered a friend, didn't think he could hold his own, but he would show the Australian.

"Life isn't fair, Snipes!" he snapped back. Trust him, he knew. "Stop worrying about my feelin's and put your money where your mouth is…unless you're scared ya can't catch me'a course?"

Sniper rose from his chair, using his 6'2'' frame to stand over the 5'11'' Scout, who remained unintimidated. His next words came out as more of a growl than he intended as he crossed his arms "Im not bloody scared."

The shorter man lifted his chin so their eyes were locked. "Prove it then."

"Foine, I will." The two men stared each other down before a new voice joined the conversation, drifting from the couch.

"Out of sheer curiosity, how exactly do you plan to 'prove it'?"

"What's it to you?" Scout's tone was mild despite the harsh words. He was pissed at Sniper, not Medic.

"Vell, you said it was a bet, ja? Vhat are the stakes? How vill you know that one of you has von?"

Scout shrugged. "If he catches me, he wins, duh." He swivelled back to point at Sniper. "No long range weapons, ya got that Legs?"

Medic set down his knitting needles, which Scout had been tempted to tease him about until he saw the threatening way the 'Doctor' brandished the sharp points. The rest of the team seemed to have picked up on the threatening instruments as well, as no one had breathed a word about Medic's new hobby.

"Ja, but when you say 'when he catches me', vhat does that mean?"

Okay, now he was starting to get frustrated with Medic. "What are ya talkin about? Is that some kind of philosophical bullshit? He catches me means he catches me, what else could it mean?"

Engineer, ever the moderator, decided to step in. "I think the Doctor means, what will Sniper catching ya actually look like? Y'all said no long-range weapons, so does he have to kill you at close range to win?"

Heavy shook his head from his spot next to Medic, who was leaning against him. "That is no good. They have turned Respawn off for Friendly Fire, if Leetle Scout is killed, he will not come back."

"I told you not to call me that…" Scout grumbled, looking a little embarrassed.

Sniper looked thoughtful. "Well, if ya were a target, I'd have to get pretty close to kill ya, so how about if I can hold ya still, relatively still anyways, then we'll say I caught ya?"

Demo snorted, ever present bottle of Whiskey clutched in his hand. "Good luck with holding that one still, lad!"

Medic ignored the boisterous Scotsman and rubbed his chin. "Not a bad idea, but how long should you hold him? If targets are able to get free in short amount of time, they can escape."

"From me? Not bloody likely." Sniper said with a toothy grin. Something like respect flashed across Medic's face.

"Does 10 seconds sound fair to you both then? That is plenty of time to kill someone."

Scout and Sniper both nodded, the former now beginning to eye the latter suspiciously. He subconsciously took a small step away from the Australian.

"How long will bet last?" Heavy asked in his thick accent. Medic perked up, abandoning his knitting once again. The man really did love rules, so long as he wasn't the one who had to follow them.

"Oh! Good point, Scatz! We cannot have zhem running around the base forever!"

"How's about a week?" Engineer asked.

"Wunderbar!"

Sniper looked torn between discomfort and amusement. "You're getting pretty invested in this, aren't ya?"

Heavy shrugged. "There is not much else to do here so…"

His lover agreed. "Ja, there is only so many times one can watch Pyro set things on vire before it is no longer amusing. No offvence."

This was directed at the firebug, who waved a hand as if to say 'None taken.' Pyro was happy as long as they were free to light fires, even if no one appreciated fire like they did.

"I don't know about a week, though.." Sniper brought the conversation back to its purpose.

Scout smirked. "What's a matter, Legs, too short of time span for ya?"

His friend smirked right back. "Too long actually. If it took me a week to eliminate targets, I'd never get paid shite."

Several men laughed at this, including a hearty "Here, here!" from Demo, who raised his bottle in a small salute.

Scout just rolled his eyes. "Fine, five days then."

Sniper grinned. "How about four?"

"Five." Scout insisted.

"Just makin' it harder on yaself, Roo."

"Well, I gotta give you a chance to catch me, don't I? Make sure it's fair an' all?" If Sniper noticed his words thrown back into his face, he didn't let on.

"Five it is then. When do ya want ta start?"

"Tomorrow, I guess, so we can both get some sleep. You're gonna need it." Sniper gave him a small shove.

"Very well then, if Sniper hasn't caught Scout by Saturday morning, let's say midnight just to make it easy to keep track ov, then Scout vins. Sound fair?" Medic asked.

There were sounds of affirmation for all of the men except Soldier, who was asleep, and Spy, who was immersed in his book and ignoring all of them.

Sniper stretched his arms behind his back, the joints popping loudly. Scout cringed.

"Jesus, Snipes! Would it kill ya to stretch once in a while?"

"Might." the Australian deadpanned, heading for the door. "See ya tomorrow, Roo."

"No, ya won't!" Scout called after him.

"Une minute, gentlemen." Spy closed his book with a decisive snap. "I believe we require a few more ground rules."

Scout groaned like a teenager being told his curfew was 10pm, but Sniper loped back into the room agreeably.

"First of all, this…bet of yours cannot carry over into our matches, I will not have your games causing trouble for ze rest of us."

"Ya, that's fair." Sniper agreed. Scout crossed his arms, refusing to acknowledge that Spy could have a point about anything.

"Secondly, the locker rooms will be a safe zone, if only to spare the rest of us the image of the two of you running naked through the hallways. No trying to catch Scout until he leaves zat room, understand Bushman?"

Spy turned to face the fireplace, putting his hands behind his back as though he was about to deliver critical information. "I hope it iz not too much to ask that you do not let this little game of yours disrupt our lives more zan absolutely necessary."

He turned back around. "There is no need to act like children when you-"

Scout cut him off. "Yea, yea, don't disrupt ya, don't act like children, don't have any fun, got it Spy! C'mon, Snipes!"

With that, he dragged Sniper out of the rec room and down the hall, before Spy could launch into a lecture.

Spy huffed, muttered some angry French, and swept out of the rec room with a flourish to retire to his smoking room. He had a feeling he would be smoking many cigars that week.

Once the three had left, the rest of the mercs were silent for a few minutes, listening to the click of Spy's heels fade away and the crackling of the fire.

The peace was distrubed by Demo slamming a bill down onto the makeshift coffee table they had made out of pallets (Pyro had set the original on fire while roasting marshmallows). "Fifty bucks says he catches the laddie in two days!"

Instantly, there was a loud clammer as the men crowded around the pallet-table to place their bets.

"Someone wake the Soldier, he will want in!" Heavy rumbled over the din. The demoman smacked him on the shoulder, causing the American to snap to attention almost instantly.

After a brief jumbled explanation from multiple men to Soldier, Engineer placed his money on 3 days, along with Heavy. Soldier seemed confident that Sniper would be successful almost immediately, putting his money on the next day. Pyro bet on four days, while Medic declared that it would take five.

"Herr Sniper is intelligent, more than he seems, I think. He vill bide his time." Was the only explanation he would give.

Engineer looked at the bets, which Medic had neatly recorded in a notebook that had been lying nearby.

"So…no one thinks the kid will win, hey?"

There were headshakes and small chuckles around the table. "Scout is fast, and the kid has moxie, which I can respect, but he doesn't know the first thing about stealth." Soldier declared.

"Heavy does not think Scout is used to being chased, at least not for long time. If he gets tired or is cornered, the Sniper will have him." The large man agreed.

Engineer took his hardhat off to rub at his hair. "Maybe…but let's not tell him about this…sound like a plan?" Although Scout was usually the picture of arrogance, Engie knew that at least 70% of it was an act, and the knowledge that no one on the team believed in him would hurt his feelings.

Pyro nodded fervently, making noises that implied that they too, wanted to spare Scout's feelings. The other men shrugged and agreed.

Demo took a deep swing of his liquor, looking almost contemplative. "Keeping it from him won't change the truth though, aye?"

Medic put into words what all the mercs were thinking. The statement lacked his usual eloquence, but nonetheless, it was precise and to the point.

"Zat boy is fucked."

What did you think? Will Sniper be successful, or is destined to fail over and over like the coyote from the Roadrunner show? Please review for more!