A/N: This chapter came out unusually gay, and I ain't happy with it. But I'm tired of looking at it, so here it is. As per usual, Team Fortress doesn't belong to me. Oh, but if it did...


Before either class could comment further on the matter at hand, their RED Soldier made a reappearance, falling into existence as if out of thin air as respawn reconstructed him. The sheer rage seeping out of the man was tangible.

"I THOUGHT WE HAD ADDRESSED THIS PROBLEM, MAGGOTS. GET OFF OF YOUR ASSES AND JOIN THE FIGHT!" Soldier bared his teeth at the duo, probably about ready to start beating them with that damn riding crop of his to get them going. Engie held up his hands in a pose of surrender, and tried to calm the man down.

"Now, Solly, just wait a darned minute-"

"DON'T YOU TALK DOWN AT ME, YOU YELLOW-BELLIED FROG. AND YOU WILL ADDRESS ME AS SIR! LOUDLY! AT ALL TIMES!" He held up his shotgun threateningly at the taller man, the sneer on his face turning into more of a rabid snarl.

"Solly, wha? It's me! Engie? Me and Spah, we-"

"PLAYING MIND GAMES NOW, WISE GUY? I'LL SHOW YOU A MIND GAME," He cocked his gun and took aim at the Frenchman's head. "HERE'S THE GAME: You get out there and do your job, I don't pop your head like a melon." His voice grew dangerously quiet towards the end of the sentence, a sight more terrifying than his yelling.

"Wait, er, Monsieur Soldat, 'e iz not ze Spy," Spy coughed and cleared his throat. His accent sounded very, very strange with the Engineer's voice, and simply speaking was enough to grate on the man's ears, but he would have to make due. Solly paused briefly and gave the two a disbelieving look, but lowered the gun.

"Why're you talking like that, Engie?" He turned his attention to the man on the floor, who grinned up at him in return.

"Well, zat is a good question. I question I cannot answer. But it seems as zough ze Engineer and I 'ave…swapped bodies." He shrugged, as if it were an everyday occurrence. Soldier gave them both a stiff, skeptical look.

"I ain't buying it." He raised the gun again and prepared to put the Spy (he was nearly convinced that it was not their Spy, anyways) out of his misery.

"Now, hold yer horses, Solly, just, hold yer horses. He ain't sellin' ya nothin'. It's me. Ah, dangit." Engie ran a hand over the top of his mask, trying to think of a way to make this situation sound plausible to the hot-blooded Soldier. "Er…remember when Ah had to give you advice on women? When ya really wanted ta go after that lady-Scout we had at base a few months back, but then she got transferred?" He paused for emphasis. " Ya came and cried on mah shoulder, Solly." The Engineer managed an honest, open look, and hoped to get through to the other man.

"THOSE WERE NOT TEARS, THEY WERE CONDENSED LIQUID PAIN LEAVING MY BODY. AND YOU SAID YOU WOULD NEVER RELAY THAT INFORMATION TO ANYONE, MAGGO-" Soldier stopped. He scrutinized the man, looking him up and down with narrowed eyes. "Truckie?"

Engie nodded back at the man before breaking into a grin.

Seconds later he lacked a head to grin with.

"YEAH, THOUGHT YOU COULD FOOL ME, YA DAMN COMMIE BLU!" Soldier snarled and laughed triumphantly. The Engie-Spy on the floor simply stared at the man as one would stare at an inbred dog with a brain tumor; his lack of cognitive ability was just plain sad.

Moments later, respawn picked up the headless Spy body and he was standing in front of them once again, clutching a hand to his chest and wheezing in oxygen.

"DAGNABBIT, SOLLY." The Engineer braced himself on a nearby counter, panting and attempting to get enough air. "Augh, Spah, how d'you," he took a deep breath, "how d'you even breathe in this damned suit? And that damned smoking habit of yers is gonna kill ya. Or kill me, one." The not-Spy wheezed a bit more, before finally catching his breath. He loosened his tie and thought about removing the balaclava, but it wasn't technically his to remove, so he refrained. Soldier, at this point, was sporting a confused, angry expression, but at least he wasn't aiming a gun at anyone. He opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut again, still peering at the two from beneath his helmet.

They were all saved by the siren sounding the end of the day's battle. Spy stood up, scowling a little at his stature, and looked himself over. After a brief check of his parts, he concluded that the little body was not so bad. He could breathe more easily, for one thing. And it could be worse. He could be the Demoman, or-God-forbid-that dirty bushman. He shuddered. Thankfully, the sound of respawn grinding to a halt for the day pulled him from his thoughts, saving the man from any severe trauma from his own mental images.

"Well zen," He said casually, "I zuppose we will 'ave find out how zis happened, oui?" As much as he hated to state the obvious, his two teammates seemed as if they needed to hear it. Engie nodded mutely, not trusting his newly-acquired voice box any more, and stepped past the Soldier, making his way out of the respawn room and towards the kitchen. The team needed to hear about this. Spy stood, watching the body-his body-walk away awkwardly, the thin limbs bumping and catching on various objects and doorways. Merde, but he had a nice ass. He grinned and followed the other man, leaving the dumbstruck Soldier to ponder alone.


"So what you're sayin' is that Hardhat," the young man pointed at the man in the 3-piece suit, "is in Spy's body. And Spy," he paused again to point at the man who looked like Engie,"Is stuck in Hardhat's body?" Scout stopped for a moment and looked at the two, then burst into a fit of loud, obnoxious laughter.

"It ain't funny, string bean! Ah ain't even got my Gunslinger anymore." Engie unconsciously stroked his arm, lamenting the loss of his familiar robotic parts.

"Pft, it's freakin' HILARIOUS!" The Scout glanced down at the Spy, standing quietly while the rest of the team thought about just what to do. "How ya feel, Spy-boy? Not so tough now that you're four feet tall, are ya?" The younger man guffawed loudly and clutched his sides, then shook his head and wiped away a tear of mirth.

Spy, already growing accustomed to his new body, sauntered up to the taller kid and smiled up sweetly at him, then punched him hard in the gut. The blow knocked Scout back onto his ass, and effectively stifled his laughter.

"Shit, man, ya didn't have to go and punch me, aghhh…" Well. His tears were no longer tears of mirth, that was for sure.

"Spah, dadgummit, don't go around punchin' people while yer wearin' mah face, it ain't right!"

"You would razzer I shoot him and wait for respawn to pick him up in ze morning?" The Frenchman raised an eyebrow at the taller man.

"Well, naw, but-"

"Stopp dieser! Both of you, just stop. Be quiet." Medic intervened in a voice that dared anyone in the room to argue. When no one did, the German sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking blankly at the floor. "...I do not know vat is ze problem. It is so hot I cannot zink, and zis barn we live in iz not helping. Perhaps respawn simply overheated, ja? Zat would explain ze…" He glanced up at the Spy and Engineer, considering. "Side effects."

Engie thought about it for a minute, but couldn't seem to focus. All eyes in the room were trained on them, and he wanted a cigarette BAD. So he cut his losses and lit one up. After a deep inhale of the cancerous stick, his mind felt clear, more at ease. No wonder Spy was so hooked on these danged things; his body couldn't go ten minutes without one. Addiction was an ugly thing.

At least his mind was considerably less clouded now. He thought about Medic's theory. Yes, it was possible that respawn had suffered some fatal error in this blasted heat, but why had it only affected them? Soldier had gone through again after they did, and was completely fine. Well, as fine as Solly ever was, anyways. Maybe it was because they were killed together? Maybe something had gone wrong with the molecular stabilization system in the heat, and had mixed up their particles a bit? He pondered the possibilities.

"Well… honestly, I ain't got a clue as to whether that's right, Doc. But what we really need ta thank about here is how to git us back in our own skins." Engie's face twisted into an expression of discomfort as he looked around the room. "Ah just don't like bein…like this." He gestured to his body.

Spy could have taken offense, of course, were he paying attention. But he was much too fascinated with his own new body. He stared at his arms, shorter now, and how the muscles rippled beneath the skin from years of toil and labor. His hands were large and warm, and quite soft despite the callouses that riddled the skin where tools had rubbed them the wrong way. Oh, rubbing the wrong way, now there was an idea.

"Ahem," He spoke up at last, getting the silent group's attention save for Scout, who was still rolling about on the floor. "It is obvious zat we are not going to figure zis out tonight, so I propose we all retire and try our hand at ze problem tomorrow, oui?" Medic was about to protest, but Heavy put a calming hand on his shoulder and led the ragged-looking doctor away, nodding a silent thanks to the shorter man as they went. Everyone seemed to agree then, if hesitantly, and the group dispersed to their own private residences, leaving only the Engineer, Spy, and a still very winded Scout.

"So d'we… d'we just go to our own rooms, then?" Engie gave Spy a searching look, and Spy couldn't help but smile. Seeing his face shift into so many different expressions was a treat for the Spy, as he couldn't even dream of creating such genuine expressions in his own body. Regardless of the new accommodations of his person, the Engineer was still an open book, and each subtle shift of his face was visible beneath the balaclava.

"Oui, I would zink so. I will return to my room, and you to yours. Just be careful not to break anyzing wiz your limbs, mon ami maladroit." Spy smirked, a small, quirky thing that looked out of place on his new face, and sauntered away toward his own room. Engie looked on a bit enviously at how he carried his figure, slow and methodical and secure in a way that the Engineer could never pull off. As he started off for his own workshop/room, however, he couldn't resist at least attempting to mimic the strut. He tried to walk as Spy had walked, cool and self-aware. The end result was an awkward, half-swagger that he imagined looked simply ridiculous in this long body. Ah, well.

Upon entering his room, Engie noticed one slight problem with his sleeping arrangements; his bed was too small. Being a man of simple, practical tastes, the RED Engineer had only a single, twin-sized mattress, plenty large enough for him, but Spy… well that remained to be seen. He stripped down to Spy's dark red, cotton underwear, and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

Good Lord, but the man had a nice figure. He walked over to the thing and stared, in an act that was as new as this body. He'd only gotten the mirror for the occasional day off, and barely even noted the thing's existence. Now, though, his eyes were riveted on the figure staring back through the glass.

Spy was long and lanky, but with a solid frame of muscle supporting his limbs that took away from the gangly appearance and gave him a more structured, lethal look. He was hard in all the places Engie was soft, and his chest was only lightly dusted with fine, soft hairs. It almost felt like an invasion of privacy, staring covetously at his new body like this. But if they never found a way to reverse it, this would be his body from now on anyways. Might as well get to know it now. Slowly, carefully, the Engineer worked the balaclava off of his face, keeping his eyes firmly locked on their mirrored counterparts.

Oh, sweet baby Jesus.

If he had thought Spy was a looker with the mask on-and nobody was saying he did, but if he had-it was nothing compared to the face he looked into now. The man didn't have any right keepin' this covered up, it was just a crime. His face was sharply angled, with high cheek bones and a bit of five-o-clock shadow covering his jaw and neck-just enough to be appealing, but not so much as to call it a beard. He had neatly-plucked eyebrows, and a suave cut of dark brown hair, a bit flat due to the constriction of the mask. Engie felt a tug in his stomach, a tug he thought he'd dispatched many years ago, and forced himself to look away from the mirror.

With a sigh he slipped on one of his own shirts to sleep in, though it hung loosely around the Spy's smaller frame and was a bit too short. It wasn't enough to bother him, though, so he laid down and curled up a bit, trying to get comfortable with his feet dangling off the end of the bed.

It was gonna be a long night.


In another corner of the fort, Spy was thoroughly enjoying his new body.

He was quite certain that they'd be able to fix this mess somehow-his Engineer could fix anything, after all- so he was determined to get as much out of this as he possibly could before it was over. Upon entering his room he had locked the door, stripped nude, and stared at himself in a mirror in a manner similar to the Engineer's own exploits. But where the Texan's observations were things of relative innocence, Spy had much more devious activities in mind for this new form.

He let his hands travel all around himself, watching in the mirror as they grazed over his skin, touching and finding all of the body's sensitive spots. He was surprised to learn that the Engineer had a ticklish streak that ran up both sides of his torso, and continued down over his hip bones. Thick, light hair covered the majority of the Engineer's chest, but it suited him. He was hard, and yet soft, and despite his stature, the man was definitely Texan-sized where it counted. It made this body all the more appealing in the Spy's eyes.

His stomach had a bit of a pooch, but not in an unpleasant way. Rather, it was as if the majority of the Engineer's muscles had pooled into his arms and thighs, leaving the remaining areas of his body not so much fat as a just a bit soft in comparison. The Spy relished the feel of the hands caressing his new body, even the cool material of the Gunslinger's glove felt nice against his sun-kissed skin.

Curiously he held up his hands in the mirror-one artificial, one natural. Although the interior of the Gunslinger was likely to be miles more interesting than the glove, Spy opted out of the idea of removing the protective covering. Just the outer layer of the artificial limb was enough for him, as he was no engineer, and the inner mechanics would most likely be lost on him anyways. Oh, but merde, these hands. He twisted and contorted them into various poses in the mirror, looking on in fascination as he did so. For as long as he could remember, the RED Spy had had this obsession with hands, and the Engineer's were perfect. One large, warm, rough and soft in all the right places… and another cold, hard metal and yet still distinctly human.

He continued to watch in the mirror, watch the Engineer's face contort in wonder and excitement, watch the Engineer's body twist and flex as he moved different muscles. God, how he envied the other man. Perhaps not to the point of wanting to keep this body as his own, but there was something…good, pleasant about the Engineer's framework that the Spy found ever-so-appealing.

"Ah, qui se sent belle..." Spy sighed and dropped his hands from the mirror. After one last, thoughtful gaze in the mirror, he went about his nightly routine-washing and brushing and all of those habitual things-before laying down in a bed that seemed much too large for him now. The Spy crossed his hands behind his head and simply lay staring at the ceiling, thinking of nothing in particular. As strange as his current situation was, the Frenchman couldn't really find it in himself to let it bother him. He'd always had a level head in combat, after all, and it would only make sense that his laid-back demeanor would transfer into whatever form the faulty Respawn system saw fit to drop him in. He lay considering this fact, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

The Spy paused, and listened. He thought it might have been his imagination, but no, there it was again, a soft, yet definite knock at the door. Spy scowled and stayed still, hoping that whoever it was would just go the hell away. Why one earth was anyone bothering him at this hour, anyways?

"Ah, Spah? You awake partner?" The sound of his own voice drifted through the door's thin wood, and Spy relaxed. So it was only the Engineer.

"Oui…yes. What is it zat you want?" He quickly pulled on the Engineer's boxers, as they were the only ones that would fit him right now, and made his way over to the door. Opening it a crack revealed the other man standing there, looking like a bit worse for wear and wringing his hands together anxiously. He had put the balaclava back on, but it was a quick, lopsided job. Spy had to stifle a snort of laughter at the sight he made.

"Well, ta be honest, mah bed ain't long enough. Ah can't sleep a wink and mah back is achin' somethin fierce from tryin ta curl up. Ah," He paused and gave the Spy a bashful look, then continued, "Well, Ah was wonderin if'n ya might have a little extra space fer the night?" Spy noted the strain in his voice, and watched as the Engineer's face-well, his face-flickered through different emotions like a radio changing stations. He smiled. Well this would definitely make his night more interesting.

"Of course, of course. Zat is to say, if you do not mind sharing a bed wiz one such as me?" He gave the taller body a smile and held the door open a bit more, inviting him in with as much grace as this stout body would allow.

"Naw, Ah ain't got no problems with it." The Engineer tugged agitatedly at his oversized shirt and sat down on the bed, his hands trying to keep themselves occupied, as if he didn't know what to do with all of this new length. "Juss no funny business, ya hear?" He gave the man in his body a fierce stare and pointed a finger at him.

Spy chuckled and closed the door, chuckling. He made his way over to the bed, sat next to the suspicious Engineer and gave him a winning smile with the man's own face.

"Funny business? You wound me! I would never participate in zis 'funny business' you speak of." He smiled sweetly and scooted towards the wall on his significantly larger bed, and held open the blankets in invitation. Engineer hesitated, just for a moment, then removed that damned itchy mask and got into bed with the other man, fully intent on getting a good night's sleep so they could fix this mess in the morning.

Spy, grinned cheekily and scooted in close to the other man, who gave an annoyed grunt in return, and tried to get as close to the edge of the bed as humanly possible. Spy moved himself closer again, spooning contentedly against the lanky back before him. Engie rolled his eyes and wondered if this was a good idea, after all. His back felt better, and his feet weren't hanging off of the bed, but honestly?

Spy was obnoxious.


A/N 2: The fact that they are in bed together does not herald sex. Just saying.

This is the PG13 version of this story, after all. And hey, see that handy little review button down there? A kitten gets wings every time you press that button. Kittens. With wings. Again, just saying.