"I'm sure they're paying you to do more than hang around here." Engineer sighed as he adjusted the barrel on the sentry.
"But Monsieur, I was hired for sabotage and distraction." Pyro answered with a chuckle that didn't suit. The Texan looked up and glared at the snake across the room, leaning against the wall two feet from the intelligence and five feet out of range to hit him with a wrench. While he still hadn't gotten used to the snake looking like his teammates, he at least wasn't talking to a copy of himself anymore.
"Not sure if yah've managed to be distractin', ya have accomplished bein' a damn nuisance." He grumbled as he stepped behind the sentry to check its wiring.
"You wound me," Spy intoned dramatically.
"Don' tempt me." he sighed, taking the side off the sentry. While the gun was serviceable, the response time could be better. Faster, smoother.
"I had hoped we were past violence, mon nounours."
"Not when we are on the clock." he answered, ignoring the obvious attempt to goad him on. Maybe a few adjustments to the circuits, here and... he traced the green wire back, here. He turned off the power supply and the sentry chirped mournfully as it shut down. Pulling a pair of pliers off his belt he began pulling out the connectors.
"Is that a promise?"
Engineer grunted vaguely in response. Pull out these connections here and replace them, further up - bypass this circuit… might speed up the response time. If only RED would pay for better materials, some gold or Australium and he'd really make some improvements.
He vaguely heard Spy say something as he reconnected the wires and started musing over the sensors. So absorbed in the task he hadn't heard or noticed anything around him.
"Monsieur Cowboy," he froze as he felt a gloved hand on his shoulder, jarring him from his work as Spy murmured in his ear. "You work too hard.". The Texan turned his head to see the Frenchman's familiar smirk over his shoulder.
"Ah'm busy" he stated flatly suppressing a smile.
"Someone said I was not being distracting enough." the snake chuckled. Engineer felt the man's warm breath on his ear, his hand on his shoulder starting to slip under the strap of his coveralls.
He felt the blood creep up his neck to his face as the man's lips found their way to his neck, "We agreed not on the clock…" he grunted, though he knew Spy wasn't listening.
"Non, monsieur, you agreed not on the clock. I agreed it was dangerous." the man whispered, hissing the last word out, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The Texan swallowed and tried to focus on his wiring job. The man should not have been able to make the word sound so enticing. Somewhere in the back of his mind he told himself he was too old to be messing around on the job. He was a grown man, not some hormone addled kid sneaking behind his parent's back. Other parts of himself insisted he was very much a man in his prime and should enjoy what he could get.
The logical part of him was outvoted as he let the Frenchman's hands move where they would. One slid up to the bare skin where his uniform sleeve ended and his glove didn't cover. Spy massaged the taut muscles there. The man's other arm wound around him, leather bound fingertips slipping under his shirt collar. Engineer shivered as the lips reached for the newly uncovered skin of his neck. Pliers were gently slipped out of his hand, but he found himself too preoccupied to notice or care. Relaxing into the man's touch, the wiring job, the battle, and everything else slipped away. Spy chuckled, his breath warm against the Texan's ear, "So tell me," he murmured, "am I distracting you?"
He turned to reply and answer the man's attentions but was interrupted by a loud thud.
Spy slipped away fading into thin air as there was a thundering clatter and explosion as the door to the room flew off its hinges crashing into the room.
"HEY KNUCKLEHEAD!" the BLU Scout yelled as he bounded in through the dust and smoke, shooting wildly into the open air as the enemy Demoman stumbled in behind him. The Texan ducked behind the inactive sentry and pulled his pistol out of his toolbelt, his brain fumbling to change gears and his bloodflow trying to change directions.
Why had he turned the sentry off? He crouched on the floor as a grenade went off behind him, the boy had grabbed the briefcase and was on his way out. The Scotman's grenades hit the dispenser and the Texan was showered in shrapnel and debris as it exploded. The force of the explosion knocked Engineer onto his side.
Ears ringing, he squinted through the haze at the figure of the Demo. Stiffly he rolled onto his stomach and fumbled for the gun he'd dropped on the floor. Blood was pounding in his head. He needed to line up a shot on the man before one of those grenades finished him off.
Before he could squeeze the trigger, there was a light in the haze cutting through the smoke, and the smell of burning flesh and plastic. The Scotsman turned his head but was cut down before he could react. The Texan relaxed as Pyro charged in, cheerfully trotting into the room, obliviously stepping over the smoldering remains of the BLU team.
"Thanks pard'ner" he said slowly getting to his feet. Pyro waved then eagerly looked around the room, Engineer's gaze followed, surveying the damage. The smoke was starting to clear and he froze as he saw a hint of movement. He'd assumed Spy had slipped out, disappearing into thin air and out of trouble. His heart jumped in his throat silencing him. There was barely a second before Pyro pulled the trigger. No time to act. No time to stop him.
He'd heard the man die before, but this time the screams seemed louder than usual. Burning up was a hell of a way to go, he cringed and tried to look away as the smell of burning flesh assaulted him. If he had known, or had time to act he would have shot the man rather than this. Anything else would have been a mercy in comparison. Only after what felt like an eternity did the screams stop and Pyro released the trigger of the flame thrower.
"Huddah!" he turned slowly to see Pyro give him the thumbs up. Their signal for 'All Clear.' Under a normal situation he would thank the firebug and send him on his way. Tell him that he'd done a good job.
His stomach clenched, his mouth was dry as he tried to act like nothing was wrong. He swallowed and slowly managed to give Pyro a thumbs up in return. Firebug cocked his head in curiosity at his silence.
"'m fahn," he muttered in what he hoped was a convincing tone. Feebly he flailed his hand at the door. "Ah'll be fine." he croaked, his throat tightening as he turned from the mess.
Pyro's unblinking goggles stared at him for an uncomfortable moment or two. Finally, with the squeak of rubber and the creak of asbestos, the maniac trotted eagerly to the ruined doorway. Curiosity rarely lasted long against the pyromania and other forces that drove the firebug. With one last wave to the Texan he absconded up the hall. To the battlefield and other flammable targets.
With that he was alone. Just him in a room, full of debris and the burned remains of enemies. Including the enemy Spy he...passed time with on a regular basis.
Biting down on his gloved fist he suppressed the urge to yell in case anyone heard him. For all he hemmed and hawed about it, he was a paid killer, a practical man. Not one who lost his nerve at the sight of some blood. He was being ridiculous. He knew it too.
This was hardly the first time Spook had died. Hell, half the time he'd done the deed himself. Shot, stabbed, tripped, blown up, head knocked off. They all died. It was part of the job. They died, and then a signal would be sent to the Respawn machine. The Australium circuits and the maze of vacuum tubes would spring to life and begin replicating and rebuilding the most complicated machinery that was a human being.
And Spy'd be back bothering him again. Just like dozens - hundreds - of times before. Nothing was different now, he tried to assure himself.
"Damnit," he spat to the empty air. Making mountains out of molehills.
He shook his head and turned back to try to assess the damage to the sentry. Ignore the blood stains on the floor, the smell of burned flesh, the burned carcasses that were taking way too long to fade away. The remains of what were his enemies and his… for lack of better word…. lover. After a moment's hesitation he glanced over his shoulder at the mess, just for a second, before he made himself turn away.
Gritting his teeth he set to work easing the sentry casing loose, to see what damage the attack had done to it. Oddly enough it had fared the best during the altercation. It might have been due to the fact it had been deactivated at the time.
With any luck he could just do a patch job, not unlike what he had been intending to before things had gone… bad. Shaking his head he tried to focus on the task at hand and not what had happened. Assessing the damage, it looked like he might be lucky.
A niggling voice in the back of his mind interrupted him as he was twisting and taping the split wires back together. What if this was the one time that Respawn didn't work? Machines, no matter how well made, could fail. He knew the maintenance schedule on the Respawn machines on this base, but he had no idea how well the BLU machines were taken care of. What if Conagher and BLU's men weren't looking after their systems?
He roughly snapped the sentry casing back into place, the machine starting up and beeping to itself. He'd hammer the dents out of it this evening, but it would do well enough for the moment. He was being an idiot, worrying over things that, logically there was nothing to worry about. He let himself glance again over his shoulder.
The carcasses were gone, and he released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Respawn was doing its job. "Damn idiot," he grumbled, squaring his shoulders The snake would be fine. Now if only he could shake the image of the limp body on the floor, deafen the echo of Spy's screams, and erase the smell of burning flesh from his memories.
The dispenser would have to be rebuilt, the BLU Demo's bombs had seen to that. He sighed as he picked up the scorched remains of the front plate. There was nothing to salvage, he'd have to start all over. Would have to go to one of the supply closets, get some fresh pieces and set up. Probably would be better to place it somewhere it might get more use than serving as a shield. Could probably use some fresh air himself.
He paused a moment before he walked out the room. Digging into the pocket of his coveralls he pulled out his bandanna. Weeks ago, when they'd started this…. Spy'd been prattling on about knots and ties and hotels. He had impulsively asked what his signal would be if he wanted to see the man. They'd agreed to something simple. Biting his lip he tied the bit of cloth around his neck and wondered if the Frenchman would remember or notice.
With that he strode out of the ravaged room and back to the business of rebuilding the dispenser.
_
After the skirmish, the Texan had gone to his workshop and put away his tools, sorting the scrap into crates beneath the workbench. He started laying out what he would need to repair the sentry for tomorrow, but ended up picking up and putting down the same wrench three times before he gave up trying to focus. Had Spy seen the signal? If he had - was he going to show up? Or maybe the man had felt it wasn't worth his time.
He hadn't heard anyone mention the snake at the end of the skirmish, and he hadn't found a way to bring up the subject without attracting attention.
He paced around the room. What if Spy hadn't come back from Respawn? It hadn't been easy but he'd managed to push aside that nagging thought all day, focus on things that needed to be handled at the moment, the threats that were immediate. Now, though, there was nothing to distract him and he couldn't fight it. He bit his lip trying to reassure himself once again he was being stupid. There was nothing to worry about.
He heard the click of the door lock, looking up he saw the familiar figure of the Frenchman slip in room. Months ago it seemed impossible that he would be so thankful to see him, but now… He strode hard to Spy, pressing him into the door.
"What is this?" Spy asked as Engineer buried his face in the Frenchman's chest, taking in the smell of the man's cologne. Cologne and cigarettes, and just a hint of sweat. Despite the man's vanity and fastidiousness he could not escape the heat of the desert. The scent of the man, the living man, not burning flesh. Not ash and smoke.
"It seems someone missed me," Spy purred. Grasping the man's tie he yanked that smile down to kiss. The man's breath was hot on his face as he kissed him, open mouthed and eager. Engineer savored the familiar taste of cigarettes and coffee on his tongue, the taste of a man, not a ghost. Careful not to snag the edges of the mask, Engineer settled his hands on the sides of the spy's face. Fingers drifted lightly across the cloth, memorizing the sharp angles and rough stubble underneath. All there, all intact.
He could feel the Frenchman's limber frame against his own, the heat radiating from him, the steady beat of his heart. He stretched up to kiss him again, but the man's mouth was just out of reach and the Spy was not bending to help him.
"Do you need a ladder Monsieur?" the snake smirked. That damn infuriating smirk. The one that always got under his skin. Growling under his breath Engineer snagged the man's collar forcing him and his damn smirk down to his level. Spy started to laugh but he cut the sound off with a brutal kiss. Beneath the Texan's hands he could feel the man shake with contained laughter. Damn bastard.
"It ain't my fault-" he murmured as he pulled the man closer reveling in the scent of the man, the feel of his breath. -Yer too tall." Engineer punctuated his sentence with another quick kiss before leaning in for a deeper one. His mouth occupied, his hands started to work loose the buttons on the man's jacket. Normally deft fingers fumbled with the last two and so badly that they were nearly ripped right off. He slipped his arm around the man's waist, even through the remaining layers he could feel the lithe muscles beneath and the heat radiating off his skin.
The Texan felt hands on his belt pulling at the buckle.
"Nuh-unh" he chuckled breathlessly, his own hand moving down to take Spy's. He gently pried those slick gloved fingers from his tool belt and held the man's wrists against the wall on either side of them, out of trouble.
Unfazed Spy leaned close, the Texan felt the man's breath on his face as stubble brushed cotton, their mouths a whisper apart but not meeting. The Texan could see the teasing smile in the man's eyes. Those eyes he knew he couldn't trust, no matter how guileless the snake seemed even in this moment. He was still a snake, Engineer reminded himself as he leaned up closing the distance in another desperate hungry kiss, and another.
At some point he'd moved his mouth down, lips grazing against the cloth of the mask along the Frenchman's jaw, then the side of his throat. It wasn't what he wanted. He wanted skin, stubble and sweat.
It wasn't difficult to capture the taller man's wrists in one hand- they were about as big around as a bird's ankle.
Two of the fingers on his free hand slid under the bottom edge of the mask. It was like flipping a switch. The other man jerked beneath him, his hands knotting into fists, his teeth bared in a panicked snarl. He had been expecting it, but it still filled the Texan with an aching concern.
"Gonna push up your mask a bit. I ain't gonna take it off ya." Engineer murmured, soft and sincere. "Tell me to stop. If you don't wan' it, just tell me to stop an' I will, Spook."
Long limbs held stiff, and Engineer made no move. He remained still, even with every nerve radiating impatient desire. If he'd crossed a line he could, would step back. But Spy didn't resist him anymore and after a few more beats the taller man had relaxed back against the wall.
Engineer kept the pads of his fingers against the warm, vulnerable column of the other man's throat, felt the motion beneath the skin when Spy swallowed and he found himself echoing it. It was the first time he knew with complete certainty he wanted this man. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so hungry for another person. The impatience to tear out of the trappings of their clothes was a physical sensation, his denim and shirt feeling too stuffy, too rough, too tight.
The straps of his overalls came off with a deep rolling of his shoulders. His free hand unbuckled the strap on the other side so the fingers he had under the mask didn't have to pull away. Curling his knuckles lifted the edge up just enough to get the job done. He didn't want to wait and didn't want to put the snake anymore on edge.
Engineer's mouth found the small patch of skin his fingers had uncovered and latched on. Teeth jarred against the other man's collarbone, the shock radiating into his jaw, but when he pressed the flat of his tongue down, it settled right into the hollow between shoulder and throat. Spy tasted like sweat, the mask smelled overwhelmingly of tobacco and cologne, and he could feel the beat of the other man's heart in his mouth.
Spy made a low animal sound in his throat, a needy groan that awoke something primal in the other man. Engineer released Spy's flexing hands in favor of pressing him into the wall by his shoulder. He could feel Spy's fingers tugging open the buttons of his uniform, balling up handfuls of his undershirt as he sucked.
"Mon dieu…" Spy was panting, losing composure and Engineer was startled by how exhilarating it felt to finally have the upper hand, and by how badly he wanted to keep it that way. How badly he wanted to see the snake come completely undone.
He pulled back, breathing heavily himself. The hollow of Spy's shoulder was a livid red and slick with his saliva and there was another rush of self satisfaction. He tucked the mask back into place with a deliberate smirk and glanced up at the frenchman as he began to unbutton his suit.
"Hold on, ah'm just getting started." Engineer reached down between them and deliberately undid the frenchman's belt buckle.
Spy opened his mouth to make some no-doubt witty response, then looked like he was going to swallow his own tongue as he watched Engineer drop down onto his knees.
Spy was visibly tenting through his pants. He must have been aching. Hell, it was hard to ignore the persisting throb tucked away in his own uniform. Spy's hands were pressed against the wall as if he wasn't sure what to do with them, and that was fine. He might lose his nerve otherwise.
The front of the man's slacks were taut, the heat of his arousal radiated into his palm when he reached to cup Spy through his clothes. The hunger for Spy's flesh was more intense than he'd ever felt, but he wanted more than blind, impatient fumbling in a dimly lit hotel room. He wanted to take his time. The muscles of the other man's thighs were tight and twitched as he slid his other hand up the meat of one leg and gripped him hard along the swell of his ass. He felt Spy clench beneath his fingers, a breathless grunt working free from between gritted teeth. His free hand worked the buckle of the man's belt loose, unzipped his pants and pulled them open. The audible sigh of relief that followed it coaxed a little chuckle out of him. If just getting him out of the confines of those fancy slacks felt good, he wondered how long the snake could be expected to last once he was really getting handled.
When he finally slipped his hand inside, tenderly he wrapped his calloused fingers around the man's foreskin. Watching the Frenchman climb onto his toes, he couldn't stifle a groan of his own. Spy spoke something hushed and so breathless the Engineer couldn't place it as either curse or prayer. The Texan gave the man a firm squeeze and drew his member out from the fly of his boxers.
"Do somezing." Spy hissed at him, giving the wall a desperate thump with a fist.
"You clearly ain't never learned how to enjoy the ride, partner," Engineer murmured, pressing his lips to the head of the other man's member, tasting a hint of salt. He had no intention of rushing this. The other man was here, he was safe and alive, warm and living flesh and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to keep this going until he'd completely cemented that in his mind. He wanted to be sure this was what came to his mind if he ever looked back on this day. Nothing else.
The Texan opened his mouth and slid the head of Spy's member inside. It was more awkward than he'd imagined. He'd never been more aware of his own teeth than he was now, taking extra care to ensure he didn't graze Spy with them. The weight of the other man's cock rested heavy on his tongue, hot and hard.
Spy was gasping for breath, fingers gripping at the wall, and he had such a look of delirious happiness on his face that the Texan had to pull away to snort out a laugh. Spy answered with one of his own, breathless and half hysterical.
"Was that it, mon paramour?" He gasped, both of them still laughing at the other.
"I ain't the one lookin' like his eyebrows 'bout to pop up off his fool head."
"Slander, sir! I am sure my eyebrows were prepared to do nothing of the sort." Spy countered, still chuckling.
The Texan responded only with a skeptical humm, lowering his head to kiss the warm skin between pelvis and thigh. His lips were followed by the flat of his tongue, the light grazing of his teeth. Spy had stopped laughing now, and the room had gone quiet. Engineer allowed his hands to roam up the other man's slender thighs, massaging the muscles as he went. He cupped the man's balls and gave them a light squeeze then reached above them to Spy's member.
The Frenchman uttered a low, shuddering groan as he turned his head and swept his tongue up the length of the man's cock. As he took it back into his mouth, he found himself working open the zipper of his pants, reaching in and stroking himself as he bobbed his head up and down in a half-steady rhythm. The heat, the weight of the man's organ in his mouth, the slick salt taste of him… he hadn't expected to enjoy it as much as he did, but as he felt Spy's soft, bare fingers trail over the side of his face, he found he was struggling to hold back orgasm.
Unthinking, he settled his free hand over Spy's, tracing the back of his palm with the rough pad of his thumb. The Frenchman groaned again, and the Engineer felt the other man's hips roll forward. The stocky Texan wasn't through with him just yet. He wanted to drive the other man higher, wanted his head to be spinning when the moment took him. It took an effort of will to move his hand away from himself, but it was easier to stop touching his own skin than Spy's, and so the hand he had cupped against the other man's remained in place even as he pulled himself back off the man's member.
For a moment their eyes met, and Spy literally squirmed as he watched the Texan slide two of his own fingers into his mouth. The hand on his cheek flexed, slipped away as if to palm himself. Engineer intercepted him, using the back of his hand to gently but firmly nudge him away. The Frenchman didn't resist, though it was plain to see his impatience. He looked nearly frantic with need. Again, the Texan was in no rush, sucking audibly around the digits in his mouth. He was a very thorough man. His fingers were glistening with his saliva when he pulled them free, and Spy was so desperate for his touch that he was trembling. The Texan took in the man's face, his clenched jaw and tight-pressed lips, his brow furrowed, eyes wide and intense, and the tiny bead of sweat following the bridge of his nose
When his slick fingers slid up against the delicate skin of his perineum, Spy made a sound he'd never heard him make before, and when he glanced up he saw the other man had his clenched fist pressed hard against his mouth and his eyes shut tight. Engineer had to swallow to coax a little more moisture to his tongue. Right as the tip of his middle finger brushed the tight pucker of Spy's ass, he took the man's erection back into his mouth. Engineer felt the lean body give a shudder, and for a moment he genuinely thought it might be over, but then Spy sucked in a deep breath through his nose and relaxed back into him. He applied a gently, rhythmic suction around his member, which had grown so hard in the brief interim that he could feel the man's pulse on his tongue.
Engineer didn't dare enter the other man immediately. Instead, he spent a few moments rubbing the course pad of his middle finger against the ring under him, coating it in his saliva and occasionally pressing part way inside until Spy's body was clenching spastically with overstimulation. He waited. Then between one pulse of tension and the next the Engineer worked his finger up to the second knuckle into the hot center of the man's body and wrapped his free hand around the base of the man's member to give it a firm squeeze.
Spy uttered a strangled, rather creative curse and thumped the back of his head against the wall. He was actively biting down on his fist now. His body had arched up hard and taut as a bowstring and the Texan was glad he had his hand as a barrier between his mouth and the man's hips or he might have choked.
"Cul... you might have warned me." Spy hissed at him.
"You want me to stop?" Engineer asked, a flash of concern passing over his flushed face.
"If you do, I really might have to kill you." The other man answered between labored breaths.
The Texan snorted a soft laugh and almost casually returned to what he had been doing before. Spy's body had relaxed its hold on him as he'd spoken and he took full advantage of it, working his second finger in alongside the first. He could feel the man clenching hard against them and the Engineer waited for whatever adjustment the other man needed to make. God, Spy was so much hotter on the inside. Though the man's erection hadn't flagged, the Texan remained cautious. His fingers were not small. Eventually, Spy had relaxed enough to assure him that he wasn't hurting and he began a shallow thrusting, applying a steady downward pressure against the soft walls of Spy's body.
He'd dropped his other hand back to his own neglected member, stroking himself as he continued to work Spy up to a mild frenzy.
"Your mouth-" it was all Spy managed to cobble together. Even with the mask the Texan could see the tension on the other man's face, his attention consumed by what was being done to his body. It was just enough for the engineer to decide what he wanted to do with that time. He kept the same rhythm, his fingers inside of the other man's body synchronized to the pace he set to the hand he had fisted around his member. He was close, and when Spy finally reached out to grasp him by the back of his head he felt, tasted, the other man as he spilled into his mouth. He swallowed, then continued with only a brief falter in rhythm.
Spy's fingers massaged the back of his scalp, alternating between encouragement and near-hysterical pleas. The Texan came with a low groan, felt it spool out of him in a few quick, hard pulses. The comedown was an easing into woolen comfort, drawing his mouth off the other man, his finger's from Spy's body. He allowed himself to rest his forehead against the Spy's hip.
"C'est bon," the Frenchman murmured as he sank against the door. He smiled contentedly, his eyes half lidded as he ran his long pale fingers along the cowboy's head. The Texan smiled, leaning into the touch revelling in the moment, the quiet lull of the man's voice. "Mon cowboy ingénieux."
Engineer chuckled quietly, his heart rate settling out.
"So, Monsieur," Spy purred, "What did I do to deserve this treatment? I need to do it more often."
He stiffened, he felt his ear tips warming up. Turning his face away from view he opened his mouth but struggled to find words.
Because you ain't dead, sounded ridiculous in his head. Because Respawn worked, was even worse. Of course the man wasn't dead, why would he have been? What would it even matter? He swallowed any words before they escaped, before Spy could hear him and laugh at his stupidity. His sentimentality.
Getting to his feet he said nothing instead, fumbled in his coverall pocket for a rag to clean up.
"I suppose I shall have to guess, hm?" Spy mused quietly.
"You like mysteries don'cha?" the Texan answered. Some readjusting, zipping, tucking his shirt tails in, pulling the top of his coveralls back onto his shoulders, and he looked respectable. Normal. Well, almost. He dusted off his kneepads and shins.
Glancing up, he watched Spy straightening his tie, his cufflinks, his collar. Finally the gloves, those clever slender hands out of sight. All the skin and flesh tucked away, that crisp and controlled facade settling back into place. The irritating, slippery handsome enemy Spy. As if he hadn't been pinned against a wall and completely undone, hungering for the Engineer's touch. He grinned to himself at the thought, the Frenchman caught his gaze and smiled, cracking the facade once more.
"Something amuses you, Monsieur Cowboy?"
"Maybe," he replied, unable to stifle his grin.
Spy walked over to him with a snort, "You are ridiculous," those gloved hands gently went over him, straightening his collar, flicking dust off his coveralls.
Taking advantage of the snake's closeness Engineer leaned in and kissed him. "Yah don' hav'ta do that." he insisted grabbing one of the man's gloved hands. "It's mah workshop, I'm supposed to get dusty in here."
"Dusty, yes. Ravished, non." the man said with a laugh slipping his hand from Engineer's grasp.
"Wasn' me bein' ravished, if I remember rightly." he countered.
"Is it not?" the Frenchman asked leaning in closer. The Texan felt the man's hot breath on his neck, "That can be amended, non?" He could only murmur in response as Spy's mouth found the sensitive spots of his neck. The snake chuckled, teeth lightly grazing the delicate skin, eliciting another embarrassing noise from his throat. His hands fumbled, grasping the lapels of Spy's tailored jacket, pulling the man's wiry frame against him.
Bang! A thunderous knock at the door made Spy freeze. Engineer grunted in surprise his heart leapt to his throat. There was another knock.
"Merde," the Frenchman muttered as Engineer hastily shoved the snake away. Who could that be? Usually the team didn't come down here uninvited. Unless they decided they needed to poke their noses in his personal business for some cockamamie reason.
"I'll see who that is." he said to the empty air where Spy had been. He swallowed and nervously adjusted his shirt collar, "Just'a sec" he called loudly to the door.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to even out his heart rate. Nervously he checked his coveralls again to make sure he looked respectable. Normal. Like someone who hadn't been smuggling in and necking enemies just moments before. His fingers fumbled with the deadbolt but he managed to get the door open just wide enough to peer out of. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim of the basement.
"Engineer," a rumbling voice greeted him.
"H-Heavy?" he frowned, leaning further out the door. "W-what brings ya down here?" and how could he make the man go away again? He hoped the man wasn't here to talk again.
"You seen Archimedes?"
"This really isn't the best ti-" his hastily constructed excuse froze as his brain stumbled over the man's words. "Eh- Have I seen who?"
"Docktor's bird" the Russian sheepishly explained. "Is not in cage, or office."
"Erm-" Engineer remembered Medic's pets, the white birds that would eye patients eerily from the man's desk. He frowned trying to figure out what they had to do with him. "Ya checked in those live traps we got fer th' mice?"
The giant nodded "And the cold boxes."
"Wha makes ya think 'e's down 'ere?"
Heavy shrugged "Archimedes goes strange places."
"So ya wanna come in and look?" he asked loudly in hopes Spy could hear and do...something. He wasn't sure what.
"Ja?"
Reluctantly he opened door and stepped aside to let the larger man in. Nervously he glanced around and spotted a familiar looking floor lamp tucked in a corner.
The Russian stood in the doorway for a minute, to let his eyes adjust Engineer assumed.
The Texan frowned, the sooner he could get rid of Heavy the better. He peered around the room trying to figure out where a bird would hide.
"This th' same bird tha' nests in chest cavities?" he asked warily. Heavy grunted the affirmative. He wasn't sure anything in the workshop would appeal to the critter. "Where ya think he's at?"
"Tall places...Shelves. Roof beams."
"Ain't much o' that down here…yer boy may not be here." he added. Hopefully the man would agree and leave them alone. And not take a sudden interest in the new lamp.
"Archimedes!" Heavy called loudly.
Engineer was about to open his mouth to insist the man was wasting his time when he heard a small coo. He had to be imagining that.
The Russian giant called out in his native language and was answered by another coo. Squinting Engineer thought he saw movement on the top of his tall shelves, a flutter inside an old cracked hard hat. "Archimedes!" Heavy called again, scolding this time. With surprising speed and nimbleness the man walked across the room, and without the aid of the nearby step ladder, reached up and pulled the hard hat and wayward dove down from the shelf.
"...Ah guess ah was wrong…." the Texan said quietly exchanging looks with the lamp in the corner. How had the little guy found his way in here? He wondered if Medic had somehow sent it through the vents… He tried to convinced himself that was impossible but instead found himself suppressing the image of dozens of birds rigged with little cameras. He shook his head to clear the image, "So… uh.., there-there ya are," he offered feebly hoping the man would leave now that he had what he came for. "Ya can keep the… hat… s'no good an'more anyhow."
Heavy nodded as he stroked the top of the dove's head. "So how is Engineer doing?"
"Eh…?"
"Last time we talked you were-"
"-OH!" Engineer interjected. That was the last thing he needed Spy to overhear. That conversation. With the snake there were few things he had secret, due more to the man's persistence than his own wishes, but there were still things Spook didn't need to hear about. "Good! Things're good- I'm fine!" he gestured to the door. "I don't wanna keep ya busy, you gotta get that bird back to Doc. He's prob'ly wonderin' where y'all are!"
"I am interrupting something?" the Russian asked, realization dawning on his face.
"Jus' workin' on the sentry for tomorrow," he answered with a rictus smile.
"I should leave then." the giant acceded tentatively. "We can talk later."
Engineer nodded as he held the workshop door open for the man to walk through.
"Monsieur you are a terrible liar," Spy murmured as the Texan shut the door. "Never play poker."
"Ah know." he grunted as he turned the deadbolt and leaned against the door. He looked around the now empty workshop with a sigh of relief.
"What was the bird doing here?"
"Ah don't know."
With a puff of smoke the floor lamp turned into an irate Frenchman. "I do not trust the doctor."
"And you think I do?" Engineer asked "'Cause ah don'" had the man trained the bird to snoop around?
"What did he mean by 'last time?" Spy asked curiously.
"Dunno." he mumbled "Nothin'"
The man gave a skeptical look before speaking "I should probably make my exit before the devil himself arrives."
"Doc usually doesn' come around here. But ah'm not takin' any bets tonight."
"Nor am I," Spy agreed walking up to him kissing the Texan on the forehead. Raising an eyebrow Engineer gripped the man's jacket and standing on his toes he pulled him down into a proper kiss.
Spy chuckled as he slowly slipped out Engineer's grasp, "We shall have to continue this later."
"I'll hold ya to it Spook." the Texan smiled watching the Frenchman slip out the door and disappear into the hallway.
_
With a grumble the RED Spy put aside another directory of local businesses. Setting his flashlight aside he picked the next one off the pile and flipped it open, poring over the listings with the beam of the handheld bulb. He could have done this during the library's traditional operating hours but he didn't wish to be observed.
Three letters on a hat found in an enemy's closet were very little to go by, but it was all he had at this point. He had tried trailing the man on one of his weekend jaunts, but had little luck. The cannard didn't have a vehicle of his own and seemed to travel by hiring or, even more distasteful, begging drivers. As pathetic as this was it meant there was no transport to attach a tracker onto. The man was bound to notice if one ended up attached to his shoe. So here he was chasing weak clues that probably meant nothing.
There were many advantages to being an independent contractor, information resources were unfortunately not among them. The Spy fumed as he skimmed through the directory of corporations in North America. Back when he worked for larger organizations this sort of drudgery would be delegated to someone else; some clerk or secretary. Not him. He was the weapon people pointed at an enemy, the trigger they pulled.
But that sort of work was over, and now he had to do his own investigations. Not that he could trust anyone else with this particular project. His employers would protest at him wasting his time on the enemy Spy. They weren't the ones who'd been humiliated. He couldn't let the BLU fool's challenge go unanswered. This was a matter of professional pride.
Following the man on his weekend trips hadn't worked out, he didn't converse with his teammates so impersonating one of them wouldn't help. The dossier on him had little of use, no known family ties and a collection of aliases, lists of enemies. Searching through his possessions had produced only one item of interest, the ball cap, and even that was a slim chance. But it was something that might give him an edge, or a direction to go on. Anything.
The emblem on it was unfamiliar, three letters: T- A-M. It wasn't associated with Mann Co. or either mercenary team. None of the manufacturers around the state would claim it. He had asked around local shops, no one in a 50 mile radius carried a hat or anything else with that logo. There was no reason to believe it was a local product, but he had to start somewhere. He squinted at the tiny print on the page, unsure just what he was looking for, but he figured he'd know it when he saw it. It seemed unlikely the man would be bothering with the…"Taos Artist Majority" he scowled as he worked his way down the pages. Teachers Against the Monkees, Trains and Motorcycles Association, Telephone and Agriculture Maintenance, Trans American Machinists Society. He rubbed his eyes irritably with the back of his hand, he could be here until dawn and still not have any answers.
He pulled out his pocket watch and clicked it open, it nearly was dawn.
"Shit," he hissed shoving the watch back into his jacket. Hours wasted and not a damn answer. Grumbling he stood up from his chair and began to collect the volumes he had scattered on the table. He wasn't sure what he had expected really, chasing after scraps.
He could be at this for ages, he fumed and began setting the books back on their shelves, in their appropriate places. Hours, days, weeks, and there'd still be the chance he'd never find something. It might not even be important when he did. But it would have to do until something else presented itself.
Irritably tapping his foot, he scanned the room, making sure there was nothing out of place, no trace of his presence, no sign anyone had been here in the night. Satisfied there was no evidence of his visit he slunk out the back doors he had let himself through and locked them on his way out.
_
Spy rested his head on the cowboy's chest, there was plenty of room in the hotel bed and pillows to spare but he found he preferred this. Feeling the man's voice resonating out of his chest, the comfortable bulk of his body. Things he could only enjoy on the weekend. Their few trysts on base, as delicious as they were, didn't allow for this sort of luxury or time.
"So there we were;" Engineer chuckled. "three boys, a pile o' firecrackers, box'a matches, and a bottle of moonshine nicked from Roy's daddy."
"Zut alors!" Spy tsked "Children with questionable liquor, I never suspected you of such depravity."
The Texan rolled his eyes. "Anyways - So it was in the middle of summer, we'd run outta things ta do. An' our mas just wanted us out from under foot. So we figured we'd go out to the far pasture, drink some, and light off firecrackers near the cows, see if we could get 'em riled."
"Truly a mystery worth exploring," the frenchman teased.
"Sam had a nickel ridin' on it." the Texan explained with a faint smile, "So we tried settin' firecrackers off, but after about a dozen of them, the cows still ain't so much as yawnin' at us. Prob'ly used tah us messin' with 'em." he added thoughtfully. "We're getting bored and that moonshine tasted like burnin' piss-"
"Shocking," Spy interjected.
There was a long quiet pause, before Engineer asked quietly. "Anyway- ya wanna hear this or not?"
"C'est vous plais," he answered, taking the man's calloused hand in his own. He hadn't meant to insult him. "So then what?"
He felt Engineer settle into the pillows, felt his thumb pass over his hand, and smiled.
" -So we decided we had had enough of th' bottle. An' I get th' brilliant idea that, what we really need tah get the cows movin' is a bigger explosion."
The Frenchman chuckled, but of course, he thought to himself. What else would his cowboy do? He decided to keep his comment to himself lest the man think he was making fun of him.
"We moved to a closer pasture, Sam figured we needed some cows that weren't already used tah th' noise. An' I start working on my brilliant idea... " the cowboy trailed off for dramatic emphasis. "Ah started by dumping out the rest of the moonshine - get an empty bottle to work with, and then one by one I start taking apart the firecrackers and dumpin' the powder innit. Now there ain't much black powder in one little firecracker, but we had a lotta the dang things. I got all the fuses I could salvage from the lot and start wrapping 'em together and add some long bits of straw to make a long wick that stick out of the bottle a bit. Get us some time to get outta the way. Then we take the bottle to the center of a bit of picked over grass and light the fuse." Engineer paused dramatically and Spy closely observed the man's face, that lopsided smile starting.
"The fuse is burning down an' I start scramblin' for cover. Roy's already behind a hay bale, but Sam's just standin' there starin at the damn thing. So I snag him by his collar and yank him back before the flame hits the bottle. Best as I can tell, this tipped the bottle over. I ain't too sure what was in that moonshine but the flame hits the fumes in that bottle an' next thing we knew the damn thing just shoots off along the ground-" Spy laughed as the Texan made wide swooping gesture with his hands. "Hissing along - like a rocket singein' everythin' behind it! Through the pasture, past the fence into the chicken yard and straight- inta th' coop of Ma's prize winning hens." Engineer ended the last sentence quietly, dramatically.
"You are making this up." Spy insisted with a laugh.
"Nah - I ain't!" the Texan grinned, "The coop went up like a bomb hit it! Burning feathers and chicken shit everywhere, chickens soarin' all directions not under their own power. My Ma comes rushing outta the house hollerin' mah name. Sam and Roy take off like their tails were on fire and I'm standin' by myself trying to look innocent."
The Frenchman burst out laughing. "I'm sure you put forth a valiant effort, mon cher."
"Yea…well," Engineer grinned ruefully "Valiant is not what my Ma would describe it as. Took me days to rebuild that chicken house, and weeks till I could sit down comfortably again by the time my Dad was done with me."
"So that's the sort of thing you got up to growing up away from civilization?"
"Sort of...not usually that… eh… explosive. Coulda used that hooch as rocket fuel." Spy felt the chuckle resonating though the man. "What sorta stupid shit you get up to?"
"Moi?" he reacted with mock surprise, sitting up to grab his cigarette case and lighter. "I never did anything ridiculous in my life."
"Mm-hmm" the cowboy murmured skeptically. "Pull the other one."
"My childhood was hardly interesting at all." he insisted lighting up a cigarette.
"Bullshit."
"Well…." Spy suppressed a smile. " I did a little bit of stealing…"
"Sneaking around, takin' other people's property? Hardly sounds like you at all." the Texan replied dryly.
"I snuck into a…" he paused as his mind fumbled for the proper english word and failing. "gentilhommière? manoir? villa?"
"A manor?" the cowboy offered.
"Oui," that was the word or close enough. He leaned back on the pillows. "-property of a local noble who'd fled the region just before the Germans swept through." he explained. "Coward left in such a hurry he left some of his valuables behind. The man had a very large art collection."
"So you were there to loot?" the Engineer's question was controlled, quiet. Spy recognized that tone, he used it when trying to not sound like he was judging.
"Non. Not as such." he defended. "The Germans had made the grounds their base. They were taking souvenirs where they wanted, sending pieces back to their country." he sneered at the memory. It had been years since he'd let himself think back on this time. What his life had been like then. Regrettably it seemed time hadn't faded those particular memories as much he as wanted. "They had an important shipment that was going to leave the next week, I didn't have much time."
"I had a copy of the guard routes, a pocket full of drugged sausages, a knife, lockpicks and a few glasses of cheap wine to keep my nerves from failing" The cowboy chuckled at that last item. Spy smiled faintly; no cloak, no sapper, the things probably hadn't been created yet. He hadn't even been able to get his hands on a gun.
"I waited until nightfall, and scaled over the back wall, in between guard changes. Leaving the sausages where I thought the dogs would find them." he snorted. "Amateur move. Snuck in through the kitchens, and managed to make my way into the house proper to the upper gallery, to my goal... Van Klomp's painting of the Fallen Madonna. Or so I thought." he smiled wryly. "They'd moved it - and I had not realized. I had worked my way up three floors of soldiers and guards to an empty gallery." He gestured wildly in air.
"What'da do then?"
He sighed, taking a drag on his cigarette "Decided I wasn't leaving without the painting, this was a matter of honor, for me and France." He shook his head.
"How old were ya?"
"Fourteen." he answered with a sigh, exhaling a cloud of smoke and past shame.
Engineer chuckled, "That explains it."
"I was determined to find that painting, show the Resistance that I wasn't too young to be of use. I was going to search the house all over. At least," he shrugged, "that had been the plan until the guards outside realized their dogs were passing out from being drugged."
"That does tend to raise alarm," the cowboy mused.
"Stupid of me," he agreed, "The house was now swarming with activity, a good plan would have been to leave the place in a hurry and forget the whole thing. But alas, I was a bit impetuous."
"Ya were fourteen, usually same thing,"
"With the dogs asleep they were forced to rely on their own eyes and ears to find me - so that at least worked in my favor. I have always been good at finding places to hide."
"The Germans made an organized sweep of the grounds and the house, I moved behind them, shadowing them. The guard's rotation was useless now so I had to change plans. Thankfully, they made so much clatter themselves it covered any sound I might have made." he smiled proudly at the memory. He'd been foolish, yes, but he'd managed to survive it. A valuable lesson he never forgot.
"They searched the halls, with me as their shadow." A very anxious, gangly shadow. "Though they were thorough they seemed more focused on one suite of rooms in particular. Frantically checking and double checking the locks. Something very important was in that room, I just had to get them to leave it alone for me to look for myself."
"Slipping away from them I started a fire-," The cowboy snorted in disbelief. "- a small one." Spy interjected, " in an empty office on the other side of the house. I sounded the alarm and slipped back to the suite while the soldiers reacted. The doors were locked," he shrugged with a smile, "locks have always been a speciality." Pausing to take a drag from his cigarette he continued. "But behind those locks…" he paused for dramatic effect, "the masterpiece, the Fallen Madonna." he smirked.
"Having no time to spare, I cut the painting out of the frame, and stuffed it down my shirt. The fire I'd started was already out and they were giving the all clear signal. Desperate, and reckless, I bolted out of the room, and lunged out a window landing in a hedge."
Taking another drag from his cigarette he looked over at the Texan's face. The cowboy was sitting there with an expression of anxious disbelief.
Spy chuckled, "Monsieur, don't look so worried, I did survive this."
Engineer snorted, relaxing, "Knowing your stories I wouldn't be surprised if you told me you'd died horribly and tragically."
"Are you accusing me of being over dramatic?"
The man looked at him skeptically, "So how did you get out?"
Spy shrugged "Luck. I landed in a thick hedge, in a dark corner. Somehow no one managed to hear the sound of my landing. Though the guards prowled the grounds I managed to keep out of sight and slip out of the gate at dawn, when the cook and her assistants came in from town."
"And no one noticed ya?"
"One of the assistants noticed. The girl pretended to twist her ankle to distract the guards as I slipped out." He smiled as he blew out a cloud of smoke, he'd been indebted and enamoured with her for ages after that.
"The next night, after a quick wash and a change of clothes, I went to show the maquisards my prize. I expected them to be impressed, they would finally take me seriously, let me join them properly." he sighed "They saw the painting and laughed at me."
"Laughed?"
"The painting was a fake." he explained with a wry smile, "They'd already been there and left a forgery for the Germans. The real one was safely hidden in their care."
There was a long pause before the Texan spoke up, "What?"
"It was fake. I'd been risking life and limb for a copy" he explained gravely. He kept the straight face for a full minute before laughing. Years ago, when it happened, he'd been furious, ashamed, embarrassed. His deflated pride had hurt almost like a physical wound. Time, while it had not faded things had, at least, granted some perspective.
Engineer looked at him with uncertainty, disbelief before breaking into laughter himself.
Chuckling, he wiped a tear from his eye and added, "In the end it didn't matter."
"Oh?"
He grinned "After the war it was revealed the painting, the first one, was also a fake. An elaborate fraud."
"Shoot" the cowboy snorted "Now Ah know you're pullin' my leg."
"Non, Monseiur." he insisted with a laugh. "Truth. It had been painted in someone's basement five years before the baron bought it."
"Really?"
"It was all revealed when the artist decided going to jail for forgery was better than hanging for treason." He flicked ash from his cigarette into the ashtray and smiled wryly as Engineer gaped. "We'd all been risking our skin for a lie." Willing to die for country, honor, and fakes.
"Well dang." Engineer murmured. "Not sure if that's the funniest or saddest thing I've ever heard."
"Looking back it is probably the most ridiculous thing I got involved in." Spy admitted sadly taking another drag of his cigarette. He frowned, his mind unwillingly filling with thoughts of those days. The people and places lost, either by violence, or time.
"That is pretty insane." the cowboy mused. There was a long pause before the man spoke "Almost as ridiculous as this one time…" he felt the man's calloused hand brush against his bare shoulder before settling there. "-this one time I got... entangled with this over dressed jackass."
He smiled faintly, at the man's touch as his mind came back to the present. "Entangled?" he repeated, ignoring the insults. "Monsieur, that sounds most indecent," he tsked.
"Lean in close an' ah can tell ya 'bout it."
Chuckling Spy set aside the ashtray and the past. "I am, as they say, all ears." He leaned into the man's chest, planting a kiss where he could feel the man's steady heartbeat. The past was gone, the future was nothing he thought about,but he he was here now.
"Jus' don' go tellin' everyone." the Texan continued, as Spy worked his way up to the man's face. Leaving a trail of kisses on his solar plexis and neck.
"Monsieur Cowboy, I assure you, my lips are sealed."
_
"Sir?" the woman asked again, her voice crackling over the phone line. "Sir, are you still there?"
"Oui, Madmoiselle," Spy simpered, his toner sweeter than the scowl he was giving his surroundings. He disliked using RED base' phone for personal errands but driving out to town for a simple phone call was ridiculous by even his standards.
"Alright Sir, we've searched and…" her tone grew hesitant, " well…we have a lot of answers to your particular question."
Leaning against the wall he huffed to himself, he had been afraid of that. "How many?"
"Well in the country alone we have over five thousand organizations with that abbreviation. Not to mention however many are abroad that we don't have in our catalogue."
"I see," he answered flatly. He shouldn't be surprised, calling a reference library had been a last ditch effort. A fool's effort.
"Maybe if we had more of an idea what we were looking for," the woman's crackling voice echoing his own thoughts. "Something to narrow it down. Could it be a school? Maybe a club? A team?" she asked.
"No, no, I don't think so." he murmured. That made little sense. "A company perhaps," he mused to himself.
There was the muffled sound of shuffling papers over the line , "The Brazilian Taxi Aero Marília?" the woman offered, mangling the pronunciation. "Would that be the sort of thing you are looking for?"
"That might be it." he conceded. That seemed like something worth looking into. Maybe some rocket program he hadn't heard of. "Thank you so much for you and your associates time, Mademoiselle."
"No problem, Sir." he could hear the woman beaming over the phone, "Thank you for calling us, I hope you have a pleasant evening."
"And I wish you the same cheri."
"Putain," he muttered as he hung the phone up. Another dead end.
Irritably he pulled his cigarette case out of his jacket. Lighting the cigarette he slipped the case back in his pocket and strolled down the hall. What could the idiot be doing? The BLU Spy was clearly going somewhere, that was obvious.
"-poot it back!" the Demo's slurred brogue shattered his thoughts. He glanced up to see the drunk and the pyromaniac in the hall. The mumbling idiot was sitting on the floor, hunched over something he didn't want to know. There was a muffled reply from the freak.
"Nae ye can't keep it."
There was another mumbled retort.
"Ah don care what ye name it, ye can't keep it."
An argument between a drunk and a grotesque. Sighing the RED Spy stepped closer to see what was going on. Odds were,regrettably, clearer heads would probably have to intervene before something caught fire or exploded.
"Ye know the rules laddy," Demo fumed.
Spy cleared his throat, getting the idiots attention before speaking. "What is this?" he asked gesturing at the pair bickering.
"Lad's gone and got a beastie out of the traps." the Scotsman grumbled pointing at the maniac's clasped hands. "Wants to keep it." The maniac held the thing, to his chest defensively and loudly expressed displeasure. What words were said, the Frenchman didn't bother to make sense of, the tone was clear enough.
"A beas-" he started to ask before he realized the man's meaning. "Ah-" he grimaced as the maniac grumbled again. The idiot had a captured a rat.
"So what if the Doc gets to keep birds?" the cyclops spat back.
They were fighting many battles out here in the desert; one was a rapidly failing one against the local rodent population. Mice and rats had gnawed their way into the base and pantries. Spy still remembered the morning he found one in his wardrobe. Gnawing on a box of cigarettes.
RED had been laying out poison and traps only to discover the same Respawn that kept them alive in battle was doing the same for the vermin. So the strategy had changed and the orders were to lay out live traps and when possible try to relocate them somewhere out in the desert beyond Respawns reach.
"The Doc's birds are different."
The lunatic fumed, the muffled complaints getting more irritating by the second.
"How? Jus-" the Scotsman sputtered "They flap and the feathers an all and-" the drunk trailed off "-cuz they are-"
Pyro cut him off with more complaints before the drunk could continue his fumbling comparison between birds and pests.
Spy massaged his temples. How did he ever end up like this? Out here in this desert with idiots all around him?
"Ferme ta gueule!" he snapped.
The pair of idiots stared at him, startled but at least quiet. He exhaled smoke through his nose, as he tried to keep hold of the situation. He was not accustomed to mediation, how his chou fluer had ever managed to do it without murder was just another quality he admired in her.
The maniac, with its hands still clutched to its torso began protesting mumbles that the saboteur ignored.
"Put that filth back in the box." he commanded. "It is Soldier's turn to take the traps out, yes?" He'd probably have to take time away from his other pursuits to remind the buffoon to do so before the damn things developed intelligence. Or the Arsonist decided to free the whole lot.
Pyro trumpeted, sounding more like a mournful elephant and less like a man. "If you do not, I will." he spat back, hoping the lunatic wouldn't press him. Even with gloves on he did not want to touch the creature alive or dead. The lunatic sadly nodded and the Scotman laid a hand on it's shoulder. "Come on laddy, it won' be so bad. It's better for the beastie in the end."
With a sigh Spy took a frustrated drag on his cigarette and headed to his quarters for a drink. He could not get out of this pit fast enough.
_
Engineer hummed as he pulled his truck into the dusty lot. The drive back had taken longer than he'd planned and he swore he could almost see the first streaks of the rising sun in the sky overhead. The weekend had gone by quickly, soon would be Monday morning and the skirmish would be on again. Ah well, just meant everyone would be in their beds and there'd be no one around to see him come in and ask what he'd been up to or where he'd been. Or who he was with.
No matter what Spy had suggested all the lies and excuses had a tendency to dry up in his mouth whenever someone asked him anything about his little jaunts. They'd ask and instead all he could manage was an awkward grunt or two and maybe croak out something about how he didn't kiss and tell.
Eventually something else would happen on base to someone else and they'd get distracted and stop bringing the subject up. He could only hope it was soon.
He climbed out of the vehicle grabbing his jacket and hat from the passenger side. He bumped the door shut with his shoulder and walked quietly towards the base. Going in the side door he crept up the hall to the barracks.
He froze as he heard a voice faintly echo up the hall. At this hour he would have expected everyone to be in bed, asleep. Unless Slim had decided to call home, what was the time difference in Australia? He frowned, trying to figure it out. Cautiously he walked up the hall, the voice becoming clearer, "-no need to worry, cheri, I arrived back safe." Well, that narrowed the possibility of who it was considerably. Spy. The Other Spy… His team's Spy. Not his Spy.
"Oui, ma chou fleur, I will be thinking of you as I go to sleep tonight." the man's voice continued crooning into the phone. If what Spook had told him was true, he could hazard a vague guess who the man was talking to. But he wasn't going to bet money on the accuracy.
He stopped at the bend in the corridor. It was late, and his bed was at the end of the hallway, but the Spy was in between.
"Maybe you will visit in my dreams, non?"
He fumed to himself. He was a grown man, he lived here, he had as much right to walk to his room as anyone else here. Not his fault there was some fella talking to his, probably sweetheart in the way.
Standing around debating it just made him look guilty and ashamed. Well more guilty than crawling in at some odd hour. Taking a deep breath he turned the corner and tried not to look at the man crooning on the phone.
His footsteps were louder than he had intended, and the Spy stiffened as he walked past. "Bene nuit," the man murmured into the phone before hanging it up with a click that seemed to echo in the corridor. Engineer froze in his tracks, trying his best not to look like a deer caught in headlights and failing.
"Engineer," the man said with a nod.
"Evenin'" he offered weakly back. "Ah was jus'...uh headin' for bed." he gestured towards the barracks. He turned to look at the Spy and noticed a suitcase by his feet. So he wasn't the only one who'd been out this weekend.
"Long night?" the Frenchman asked with a wry smile, his meaning clear.
"Er- Yah know." he shrugged in what he hoped was a casual way.
The Spy smirked and nodded. For a moment the Texan was struck by the difference between him and Spook. He never spent much time around the RED Spy to notice the slight differences, but even with the masks he saw them now. The difference in stance, the way the RED Spy held his cigarette.
His Spy gave an air of… well, he was cocky, but not… aloof. Probably an odd choice of words considering this was a man he'd just heard croon sweet nothings to a love miles and miles away, but that was what came to mind looking at the other man just now.
"What about yourself?" he asked nodding to the suitcase.
"You know how it is." The man answered "A gentleman never tells." he smiled and tapped the side of his nose.
Engineer raised his eyebrows conspiratorially but remained silent. They understood each other, and there was nothing to say on the subject. "We should get to bed, mornin's gonna hurt."
"Lead the way Monsieur." the other man murmured picking up his suitcase. Nodding the Texan slipped his cap from under his arm onto his head and walked on down the hall musing on the the difference in cadence of RED Spy's voice.
He walked on down the hall but stopped he realized the man wasn't following. Turning over his shoulder he saw the Spy standing stock still four feet behind him wearing a baffled expression.
"Yah okay there?" he asked.
The man stared at him.
"...Spah?" he managed to spit out the name despite how surreal it felt to use it to address someone else.
The man just gestured to his head. "...your chapeau" he said slowly.
"Mah hat?" he tapped the brim of it with a frown. What was wrong with his hat?
"It looks ridiculous." the Spy finally said.
"What's wrong with it?" he asked not bothering to hide his offense. He was rather fond of this hat, he didn't usually wear ball caps, but this was the one he picked up at the Thanksgiving game with Spy. Odd how long ago that seemed.
"Looks like the sort of thing a child would wear." the man sniffed as he began walking up the hallway again. "Or Scout." he added.
"You gotta a problem with Aggies?" he asked bristling.
"What the hell is an... 'Aggie'?"
Grumbling Engineer tapped a thumb to his chest "Yer lookin' at one." It was too early in the morning to put up with people insulting his alma mater.
"I have no idea what you are talking about." the man answered flatly bustling past him with an air of disinterest.
"A&M" he tapped his hat brim. "My alma mater." He could have explained more but it was late and he had just caught a glance at his watch.
"I meant no insult to your school, Monsieur." the Spy insisted in a loud whisper as they passed the doors of their sleeping teammates. "Only that you need better taste in... hats."
"It's practical" he insisted through grit teeth. It was hard to drive with the sun in his eyes. Grumbling to himself he dug his keys out of his pocket and began unlocking his door. "G'night" he whispered to the Spy who said nothing in response. The night was probably catching up with the Frenchman, lord knew it was catching up with him. Suppressing a yawn he stepped into his room and shut the door behind him.
