Lost? Don't be, prepare for answers.

Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't.

Cheers.

P.S.: Curious as to what some of the boys look like? Check out the scraps section of my web site gallery located on my FF profile.

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Morning crept up slowly over the men, a majority of whom slept in late for the first time in weeks.

The world was soft and quiet today.. Dim with autumn sunlight and peaceful with the occasional twitter of birds and gusts of winds sweeping through the empty battlements. Others woke like clockwork in this alien morning world only to realize that their usual schedules had been put on hold by the abrupt end to the fighting.

It was strange..

Like someone had pulled the plug and put a definite end to the game of life and death they had all been playing for so long. For many it was an entirely new experience -- one which left them unsure of how to act or what to do with themselves during the extensive downtime. They were free to walk the dusty grounds they once ran through, free to roam and relax in the enemy base..

As a matter of fact, that's exactly what the Red Spy was doing. He was standing in the labs again, looking around for clues -- Blu's clues, you might say.

He already knew two of the other Red Spies had boarded an enemy train, disguising themselves as Blus to roam undetected among them and discover their motives. The Tentaspy had been ordered to accompany them through the river as well and report back with news as soon as possible. ..but on the off chance that he did not, it would be wise to comb the Blu base again. Perhaps.. Perhaps something had been left behind? A note, a map.. anything.

His searches had all turned up empty thus far, his gloved hands annoyingly free of documents even as he stood at the heart of what had previously been a 'productive' Blu research facility.

-I am willing to bet it all began here..- he thought to himself as he adjusted his cloak and dagger.

A Demoman had done a number on the room -- likely to protect the research the Blus had so swiftly made off with. It was the reason why he tread with care over the shattered glass that had once been the fore wall of the Tentaspy tank and made sure to avoid the sparking electronic panels lining the walls. Inside he could still see puddles of water in the shallow areas where the grated floor passed into smooth metal and stone. Inky black liquid covered much of these areas, accompanied also by objects which reminded the Spy strongly of human bones..

His hip brushed one of the overturned medical cots.

Overhead he could hear open-ended wires sparking. Huh.. it would seem the Engineers hadn't yet shut off the power to this place. Perhaps it was for the best? He couldn't very well look around in pitch black conditions.

Footsteps caught his attention, hazel eyes peering over his shoulder to observe a Soldier walking his way. He was indifferent at first, but when he saw the man holding a half-burnt piece of paper in his hand, he furrowed his brow and turned more directly toward him.

"What have you found?"

"Spy you'd better have a look at this!" he forked it over promptly, hefting his spade in his free hand and gesturing to the scrap with it, "Looks like a map!"

"..Indeed eet does," he ran his eyes over it with intrigue before lifting them, "Where did you find zhis?"

"Down that hallway there.. It was in the trash. Those yellowbellies must have gotten scared and ran before they could finished the job," the Soldier conjectured with a sneer.

"Ah, oui.. Nice work, comrade," he started walking with the paper, able to see much of what it depicted before the very edges blackened to ash. Mm.. It would take a bit of time, but with any luck they would know where to head next. If the Blu forces were not going to stay put, the Reds were simply going to have to follow them.

However, not all of the Blu members were unaccounted for..

Still locked in his dorm room, the Blu Spy lay face-down on his bed. He'd been up most of the night, spending it sitting there and thinking. But, perhaps unfortunately, he lay incredibly still on the mattress..

Knock knock knock!

No reply.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Not a sound.

Soon the lock clicked, the door opening a sliver.. and then a bit wider to allow a Red Soldier clearance. He strutted right in and slammed the door rather loudly as he sneered toward the bed, "ROLE CALL, MAGGOT! Get on your feet, soldier!"

There was utter silence from the man on the bed and after staring at him for a good thirty seconds, he decided to go and inspect, prodding him with his spade in the shoulder. The Soldier sighed gruffly and prodded once more, "Allllright.. Looks like someone forgot to feed the P.O.W." Disappointed by the man's sudden death, he turned about to go and inform the head Medic. Surely he'd be happy to hear about a new dead body what with there being so few of them today.

The Blu Spy slowly turned his head toward the door, his left eye sliding open dangerously as he allowed the Soldier to fumble with his clumsy fingers for the key card he'd only just put inside his jacket.

So frustrated by his inability to remember which side of his jacket he put the damn thing in, the Soldier was too distracted to notice the Spy edging slowly off the bed and curling his hands around the legs of the plain chair that accented his otherwise empty dorm. Success! The key card was in his left breast pocket! "Hah! Right where I left it," the Soldier commended himself as he stepped up the door and promptly collapsed on the ground with a sickening smashing noise.

The Blu Spy discarded the remains of the ruined chair, hardly minding the blood seeping out of the Soldier's split temple as he crouched down and began to rifle through the man's belongings. He took his key card, he took his shotgun, he took his lighter, and he took one of the unlit cigars from inside his jacket.

"Grazie," he said thankfully, lifting it toward the man's unconscious body as he stood and stepped over him on his way out.

Down at the mess hall, the Red Sniper found himself among those that woke like clockwork. He adjusted his glove and peered at his watch. Huh.. 7:45. He couldn't believe how empty everything was. Usually even the Demomen were beginning to stir by now. His palms curled around his precious white mug, lifting it to his lips as he leaned forward on his elbows and narrowed his eyes to stare across the room as he took a sip.

Ah..

The warm sensation shooting down his throat forced him to shut his eyes fully and revel in the cozy feeling it spread through his stomach. Nothing was quite like coffee. Hot cocoa? Maybe.. Too sweet, however. Coffee never left a dirty feeling in his mouth, earthy perhaps, but dirty? Never. If no one else was going to join him in the mess hall that would be just fine by him; he had tranquility, he had peace, and he had coffee.

Somehow that combination proved too good to be true as he heard the mess hall doors slam open.

"FRIGGEN PANCAKES!" he heard hollered from the steps followed by the telltale patter of high-speed sneakers.

Lowering his mug, the Sniper sighed and looked behind him -- no doubt the Scout had already whizzed past him and indeed he had as evidenced by a chair which tipped and fell over belatedly in his wake. The older man couldn't help but smile, taking only a moment to think before he stood and headed after the energetic boy.

The sight that greeted him was like something out of a cartoon. The Scout (the blonde one, he noticed) was apparently trying to use all of his limbs at once to get things done faster than a mundane pair of hands. A shoe to pull open a drawer, a hip to bump another one shut. Elbows, ribs, wrists, and hands used to gather materials, reflexes used to dump it all on the counter and dive after two eggs which had slipped out of his grasp..

"Oh hey man!" the teen greeted as he stood straight and nudged his hat upward with a knuckle, "Yo, wassup?" Without waiting for an answer, he procured a mixing bowl and went to town making what looked like pancake batter -- either that or vomit.

The Sniper simply leaned against the doorway with a smile, crossing his ankles with comfort as he held his mug near his chest. They'd reversed roles, it seemed. This time tempers were more even and he felt no fear as he opened conversation with the Scout, "Friggen pancakes?"

"Hell yea, man, you know it!"

"And where'd you learn to make those?"

"Oh, my ma' taught me some stuff when I was growin' up," the blonde replied hastily as he pulled the countertop griddle out from a higher cabinet and set it up, "S'cuz I had sisters, ya know? ... ..didn't hear that from me," he warned.

"Not a word, mate," the Sniper assured, "You want a hand with that?"

"No."

The answer was incredibly abrupt.. In fact, it came so fast that it riled some suspicion!

"..really? Why not?"

"Dude, everyone on base knows you can't cook worth shit unless you killed it. And even then.." he made a wavering gesture with one hand, glancing at the Sniper and then pouring out a few pancakes on the griddle with the batter.

The Red Sniper made a very amusing face when the Scout wasn't looking but made sure to lift his coffee and drink from it when he did glance back to be sure he wasn't going to be shot for his comment.

"I see. ..the whole base?"

"Well, just a uh.. couple uh guys, but yea!" he grew energized once more and went on, "You almost killed one uh the Spies apparently! Good game on that, dude," he said with a grin.

"Mm.. Oy guess I can't be good at everything."

"You havin' some uh this?"

"Nah, Oy'm good. Got my brew n' all, so--"

"Right, so I'll make you three, can you finish three?"

"Look, really, Oy don't wan--"

"They're really big, I'll just make you two -- you're old anyway, so I'll tone em down for ya'."

"Scout? I'm not interested."

"Pancakes," the blonde said insistently, jerking his spatula toward the cooking batter with a deathly serious frown.

".."

"..."

"..I'll have two," the Sniper muttered with a sigh as he went to refill his mug.

"Oh yeah! You'll see, dude, these things are so fuckin' awesome -- specially when I make em.."

The older man shook his head, stepping back out into the empty mess hall and arching his back as he began to compile a to do list in his head. With the fighting -- the largest part of his usual day -- cut from his schedule, what else could he be doing? Or rather.. what should he be doing? Morning exercise was already out of the way, coffee was a go, and breakfast would be occurring in some way or another whenever the Scout finished showing off in the kitchen.

..ah.

He smiled grimly as it came to mind, the one task he'd almost forgotten about: checking on and taking care of the Blu Spy. But that wasn't too important, was it? He was under lock and key inside a base filled to the brim with Reds unhindered by the distractions of war.

Surely it could wait until after pancakes.