Chapter 2: Final Introductions

"And she is very tiny. Smaller than baby Scout!"

Medic hummed in thought, a gloved hand stroking in circles around his chin. His thick eyebrows were scrunched in contemplation as his eyes darted around his lab, scanning over the notions in his mind. Heavy stood at the opposite side of the operation table which held the bitter aseptic tang of some unnamed cleaning chemical Medic used to disinfect the area. The aroma hung over the room like a thick cloud, tickling Heavy's nose and irritating it. It did, however, mask the putrid odor of rotting blood that would otherwise be there, so the big Russian did not complain.

Again Medic hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his throat as he crossed the medic room in long strides. "I vould assume ze fräulein iz only in her early twenties?"

"Da."

The German doctor nodded slowly, pushing his round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. His face softened and he sighed. Medic threw his hands out, open-palmed, on either side of him in a surrendering manner. "Zere iz nozing ve can do about it, Heavy. Ze Administrator haz made her choice, und ve must respect her judgment."

"But she is tiny baby!" cried Heavy once again, throwing his hands up vexation. How many times did he have to repeat it to the doctor? As much as he respected the German, there were times when Heavy wondered how he ever graduated medical school without any common sense. Perhaps he discarded it when he needed more room to stuff all the medical facts into his head.

Medic quirked his eyebrow and answered in a patient tone, "So iz ze Scout." The Bostonian was actually very tall for his age, reaching six inches higher than their beloved Engineer. Medic was referring more to his build than anything, from what Heavy understood.

Heavy waved a massive hand in a dismissive gesture. "He has no problem. He is so fast, bullet cannot catch him. But this girly…I do not know if she takes Engineer's place." He shook his head. "She is too small."

Medic sighed, sliding his fingers under his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. Heavy felt as if he was irritating the man, which he did not want to do. He considered the doctor a good friend, and the first one he bonded with in the heat of battle. The last thing Heavy wished to do was make the doctor angry.

But Medic did not seem angry—only tired. He ran a hand through his thick black hair—something Heavy was secretly jealous of—as he stretched his neck, popping the stiff joints. He nodded silently, shutting his eyes for a long moment, his breath coming in even pauses. After several minutes rolled by, Heavy wondered if the man had fallen asleep standing. But suddenly Medic opened his eyes, blearily staring at the Russian.

"I suppose ve vill discover how good—or bad—she iz tomorrow."

"So…uh…here's your room!" Scout threw out his hands in a presenting manner in a fail attempt to make the dark, plain room seem welcoming. The walls were a faded red, slightly cracked after the distant impacts of constant explosions on the roof during their skirmishes with the BLU team. A lone bed sat silently in the corner, looking far smaller than Scout remembered, accompanied by a tiny nightstand. A small window on the far side of the wall let in the glare of New Mexico's scorching afternoon sun, casting a blaring orange light over the room. Scout was reminded that their base was created only to shelter the mercenaries for the night before they awoke the next day to the blaring of a siren and the ear-shattering cracks of bullets. It was not designed for comfort. And certainly not designed for a woman. Scout glanced at the girl sheepishly, wondering why the freak he was embarrassed. He wasn't in charge of the construction of his base.

The red head didn't seem the least bit affected, however, as she bounded into the spare room, jumping onto the bed with excited energy. The ancient springs creaked loudly in response once her backside collided onto the mattress and she was propelled up into the air before plopping down once more. Her too-wide smile never faded as she watched Scout hesitantly set her bag beside the bed. He smiled lopsidedly when their eyes met, but his gut twisted violently when her eyes again shined with that disturbing glint. He hastily looked away and mistakenly stared at her chest. His cheeks heated at the exposed skin and lack of clothes, and quickly averted his gaze. That didn't help much, with her flat stomach and shining legs. He swallowed hard and focused on her shoulder, the only part that seemed to keep his mind from reeling.

There was a long pause of awkward silence as Scout stood there and the girl swung her legs over the bed's edge like a child, the springs creaking with each motion. "So…" Scout began, glancing at the corner of the room. The girl's gaze burned a hole in his flesh, and he shuffled on his feet. "What…what's your name? Like, what'd ya want us to ya?"

Before another word could be spoken, a faint hiss resounded at the doorway, and Scout's neck prickled with irritation. It was a struggle not to groan in exasperation as he barred his teeth and turned to glare at the doorway. As expected, Spy stood there, leaning on the doorway as he took a long draw from his cigarette, his eyes scanning over the two with a blank expression. His lips curved into a faint smirk once his eyes met those of the red-head, his eyebrows quirking up slightly as he glanced at Scout with amusement in his features as if to say, 'Ah, trying to get a girlfriend so soon?' Scout curled his lips and folded his arms across his chest as he set a steely glare onto the Frenchman. He snarled as silently as he could, hoping his thoughts would collide into Spy with the force of a train.

'Back off, spook'.

But it was a hobby of Spy's to irritate his teammates. He ignored Scout completely as he stepped inside the room, exhaling a plume of smoke that then drifted to the roof. He smirked as he stared at the girl with sharp eyes. "Ah, so this is ze Engineer's replacement? Bonjour, madame." He bowed gracefully, his voice rumbling with each syllable. His French accent grew thicker with each word that slipped past his lips. He knelt down, took her hand delicately, and placed a kiss on it, his blue eyes still fixated on her. Scout looked horrified, which only seemed to encourage the man further. He cast a quick, mischievous glance at Scout, before continuing further. "C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer. And it is a pleasure to welcome you to ze RED team. I am known as ze Spy." He straightened and tilted his head to her in a graceful manner. "And what may I call you, belle dame?"

The girl was silent for several moments, Scout teeming with fury next to her as Spy's smirk grew wider. It seemed the Frenchman's charm had rendered her speechless in only a mere minute. Scout was cursing him in every way he knew possible, the urge to strangle him growing stronger. He glanced anxiously at the girl, awaiting the inevitable swooning and gawking. Spy's gaze was still settled onto the girl, but Scout was certain his cocky smirk was directed towards him. There was a soundless pause before the girl finally reacted. And it was, at the very least, an unexpected reaction.

She began to laugh. It started slow and soft, like releasing bouts of breath underwater and watching the bubbles float upward to the surface. Then, gradually, the pace hastened and grew louder. She was soon doubled over, her knees tucked under her chin and her arms wrapped tightly around her thin legs. Her mouth was wide open utter glee, exposing shining white teeth. She held a high-pitched cackle, like a hyena howling in the night. And along with pitchy tone, the laugh possessed...an unusual quality. It was something that added to her unsettling gaze, heightening its disturbing trait. And it was unending.

Scout stared at Spy in bewilderment. The Frenchman's smirk had fallen, replaced by another blank, unreadable expression. The woman's cackling filled the room, replacing what would have been awkward silence. After her face had turned an impressive shade of purple, she collapsed onto her side and took deep gasps of breath, her lips still quirked in that smile. She stared at the frozen mercenaries with gleaming eyes as she sat up like a snake, her spine curling upward as her head drooped in accordance to the motion. She released one final hearty chuckle before biting her bottom lip and said, "I'm the Operator, French Fry!"

The Spy's nickname was so abrupt and unexpected, Scout snorted loudly as he struggled to hold back his laughter. His face turned red as he snapped his mouth shut and snickered, eyeing Spy with unhidden glee.

Finally, there was some feature about her that was expected: her voice. It was high-pitched with a tinge of thrill, with the stereo-typical sass of a Californian woman. She flashed a smile at Spy, whose eyes hardened as he casually adjusted his already-straightened tie. "I see," he said, eyeing the girl with far less attraction. Scout could practically taste the Spy's displeasure, which lifted his spirits to the heavens. He grinned widely, eying the Spy with triumph as the Frenchman took another draw from his cigarette, ignoring Scout's sneer. "Well zen, Operator. I must inform you zat we will hold a meeting," he glanced quickly at the clock hanging from the wall, "one hour from now in ze conference room. I suggest you attend it so you are familiar wiz our strategies. I expect ze Scout will show you the way." He set a steely glare onto the Bostonian before nodding curtly in farewell to both of them and disappearing out of the room. Once Spy's footsteps faded into soft echoes, Scout turned back to Operator, who was still flashing her wide grin.

Scout smiled at her. "You're pretty cool! I'm not sure Spy has ever been turned down by a girl before. Did ya see his face? Priceless!" His grin grew wider in fondness of the memory, making certain to file the remembrance into his most doting folder. "So!" he cried as he leaned against the wall beside her, folding his arms so she could see the full view of his 'gorgeous' muscles. He flaunted his most seductive smile as he went for his winning phrase that would certainly make the girl fall head over heels for him:

"Ya like baseball?"