Author's Note: Well, I'm back from my holidays! Tanned relaxed and with an inbox full of reviews! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I think I sort of lost count of who I replied to and who I didn't, so if I missed you out, my apologies. A special thank you to all the guest people who posted reviews- I can't reply to you individually, but I really appreciate all your interest. I see a number of people noticed my habit of creating lots and lots of characters. What can I say? I simply enjoy doing it. I'm not entirely sure where Tiny Vlad came from, but...he's there now.

And now, let's find out about Jacques...

So, has anyone guessed why he's called Jacques? No, it's not french for James Bond...this time.

Saving Private Soldierbot

Chapter Three: Above and Below

Stupid humans.

Stomp. Stomp. Clang.

Fuck them all.

Stomp stomp.

Think they're so important, strutting about with their soft skin and insides full of squishy bits.

Scoutbot knew he was being unfair, but right now, he didn't care. He stopped briefly by a vending machine before continuing on his morose way outside the Institute. As always, there was building work going on out there. The Institute had claimed some of the nearby islands and more buildings were shooting up, connected by a network of bridges that looked like a spider's web. The sound of bad Russian singing drifted over the water to him from one of the construction sites. Scoutbot helped with the building sometimes, since he could lift ropes and fix things into position and doing the more dangerous jobs since he was easy to fix.

Hell, with respawn and the medigun, they are easy to fix too. But no, they feel pain so they can't do it. Total wimps, all of them.

Scoutbot knew what pain felt like, from the Violet Scout's memories, but those memories were four years distant now, interleaved with a lot more memories of his real life as a robot. He liked being a robot, loved it, but...

Gulls wheeled overhead as he made his way to a little area of pebbly beach surrounded by palms where the sea dipped away quickly, forming a deep hollow. It had been getting dark in Alaska when the rescue party had left, but here on the other side of the continent twilight was just starting, several hours later.

"Jacques!" He held up the small cardboard box and rattled it. Jacques always came when he did this, sooner or later. "Yo, dude. You there?"

There was no reply, and Scoutbot sat silently and waited. The sky darkened and the air went still until there was no noise other than the clattering of waves on the pebbles. Darkness wasn't a problem for the robot, since he had good night-vision, and so did Jacques. Jacques preferred the night.

Finally, the water stirred and a single fat bubble plopped on the surface. Scoutbot stood up and rattled the box again as Jacques surfaced, smiling and showing off his pointed, translucent teeth.

"You don't need to rattle that packet as if I am an aquarium fissh, mon ami." Jacques said in a breathy, hissing voice. He moved smoothly to the beach with a gentle ripple of water, reaching for the cigarettes hungrily with long, clawed fingers. "Ssso kind of you, Sscoutbot."

"Good to see you, dude." Scoutbot said to the man, producing sparks from his finger to light the man's cigarette.

Jacques took a deep breath, savouring the taste and smell of the tobacco and then exhaled with a contented sigh. "I miss thiss ssso much."

As Scoutbot understood it, Jacques was an experiment that had gone completely right. Medic Erwin had somehow convinced one of the Spies to undergo a procedure designed to give him the ability to change his colour and even the texture of his skin at will- the perfect camouflage. Presumably, Spy Jacques had leapt at the chance to have such a versatile tool at his disposal. Erwin had explained it would involve changing his genetic makeup and making some surgical alterations- nothing major or life-threatening.

He had not mentioned that the best colour-changers in the world were the cephalopods- the cuttlefish and octopi.

It had worked, but the poor Spy had gained a little more than he bargained for. The man could indeed change colour at will and change his skin from smooth to spiky and back with a thought- but he now had eight tentacles instead of legs and had to live underwater. Medic Erwin had reacted in typical fashion by saying 'Oooh, zhat was fun! Let me see if I can fix it...', but Jacques had slithered away before the man could try any more experiments on him.

The half-octopus-mutant-human-thing rested his arms casually on the pebbles, as if enjoying an idle afternoon at a European café, taking another puff on his cigarette. Like Scoutbot, Jacques did not wear any clothes, but he usually altered his skin so it looked as if his upper body had the standard Spy outfit of suit and balaclava in a stormy blue-grey colour. He stayed at the Institute, but tended to avoid most of the staff, living his own solitary underwater life. There had been rumours of sirens and mermaids on nearby islands, so Scoutbot suspected he amused himself by going off and pranking the locals sometimes. He just hoped the octopus man never ate people, or anything like that.

"One of these days, I sshall ask Engineer to design an underwater cigarette." Jacques said, blowing smoke out of the gills on his chest with relish. "Ssso, why the long face, my metal friend?"

"Don't bullshit me, Jacques. My face never changes." Scoutbot replied, flicking a pebble into the sea idly.

"It is merely a figure of ssspeech. Your shoulders are sslumped and you don't have your usual air of boundlesss, annoying energy. What is wrong?"

Scoutbot sighed in resignation and explained the events of the long day to the man, who patiently listened, occasionally ducking under the water to keep his gills wet. As the light dimmed into true night, Jacques' eyes glowed a dull yellow, and lines of iridescent dots showed up on his skin.

"It sseems to me," Jacques commented, stubbing out his cigarette and taking another one, "That they are not blaming you. You got off lightly- Bobby and Rick are getting mosst of the blame, sssince they placed themselvess in harm'ss way, while you did not. As for Sssoldier, well, expecting ssanity and tolerance from him is an exercise in futility. He and Demo have tried to blow me up before now! However, Engineer and Pyro admire and trusst you. Bobby and Rick obvioussly do as well."

"Nah, I know that, but you know, that's not the point." Scoutbot paused, clenching his fists with a creaking noise and trying to organise his thoughts. "See, she was right. I didn't think about the cold. Didn't notice it, didn't think of it as dangerous. Snow is just...white stuff. Kinda pretty, can be fun, but not dangerous."

Jacques held out his cigarette hopefully, and Scoutbot lit it with another spark. He took a thoughtful drag on it before answering.

"It iss not your responsibility to keep them sssafe. They are full adultss, able to make their own decisionss."

"But I...forgot, dude. I forgot what cold was, and how it felt." Scoutbot confessed, his voice getting lower as he looked down at his metal feet. "I didn't remember it. I mean, it's not my fault the guys got hurt, I know that, but..."

Jacques sighed. "It iss a hard thing, to remember being sssomeone, ssomething you no longer are. We remember our humanity and it tauntss uss." Jacques suddenly winced and rubbed his stomach.

"You ok?"

"Oh, just a touch of sstomach ache. I think I must have eaten sssomething that disagreed with me."

"Maybe you should go see the doc."

"It will be a cold day in hell before I give mysself up to the administrationss of the gentle docteur again. I would end up with ever more extra appendagess. Anyway, you were sssaying?"

"Being a robot is fuckin' awesome, it really is." Scoutbot said. "I don't need to bother with sleeping, or eating, or any of that human shit. I can fly and I have this neat shiny metal body...seems it's not enough though."

"If they exsspect you to be ssomething you are not, they are in the wrong, not you." Jacques hissed thoughtfully. He gestured around himself. "To me, the land is too dry and too hot. Far better to be in the quiet depthss, sssurrounded by cool, ssoothing water. I remember that it was not always thusss, but it iss anathema to me now."

"It's who?" Scoutbot asked suspiciously.

"Never mind." Jacques waved a clawed hand in dismissal. "Humanss have such a narrow perception and they exsspect us to fit. We don't- but thiss is what I am, now. They need to accept that of me, and of you as well."

"I guess."

"Perhaps this is esspecially a problem with thiss particular group of humanss." Jacques continued. "After all, they are ussed to knowing many people exactly like themsselvess. Not much variation here, oui?"

"Nah." Scoutbot agreed. He fidgeted for a moment, trying to put his thoughts into words. "And I...I...I feel left out, man! It's like I live in a different world, sometimes, and nobody, nobody, knows what it's like, not really. I guess...I've felt it more an' more recently, that I don't fit in. I don't belong here, I don't fucking belong anywhere! Today just kinda brought that home to me, more'n ever before."

Jacques ducked under the water for a moment, carefully keeping his cigarette above the waves before surfacing again.

"What you are sssaying is that you are lonely." His glowing eyes fixed on the robot sympathetically, beads of water running off his head.

"You make me sound like a total pussy." Scoutbot objected. "All that emotional shit."

"Yet true, I think."

"Do you...ever get lonely?" He asked hesitantly.

"I am not as ssocial in nature as you but..." He paused. "Frequently. Or rather, not lonely. Issolated."

"That sucks."

"Perhapss one day another Sspy will agree to become an horrific sssquid monsster, hmm?" Jacques gave a sudden mirthful snort.

"Huh, anythin' is possible." Scoutbot replied with a slight chuckle.

"For now, though, I have the freedom of the sssea. You have the sskies. It is ssome consolation." Jacques made an odd clicking noise and changed colour to mottled grey and brown. "Oh! Why did I not think of that earlier? Yess, of course!" The man started to laugh, stirring the water with his tentacles as he swirled them about in amusement.

"What?"

"I am not ssuggesting thiss, and we did not have this converssation, undersstand?"

"Huh? I'm right here, dude."

"Ah, mon dieu I forgot how usseless you are at ssubterfuge...I mean that you are not to discuss thiss with anyone, undersstand? Not even Bobby or Rick. No one."

"You've...not been eating people have you?"

"What?! No! What would I do that for?!"

"Joking! Joking, honest."

"They are far too difficult to catch and give me indigesstion. Too fatty." Jacques continued.

"Dude..."

"Joking! Joking, honesst." Jacques replied, imitating Scoutbot's voice with a grin. He blew smoke into the clear air. "You know, it iss a minor thing, but I miss blowing sssmoke rings. It took me a while to learn to do that, as a human. Gillss do not allow for it."

"Back on track dude."

"You promise to keep this sssecret?" Jacques insisted.

"Yeah, sure. Cross my heart. Not that I have a heart, but ya know."

"Let me make a sssuggestion to you, my young robot: go back to Alasska and find the Violet Engineer's old workshop. There is sssomething there that...may interesst you."

"I...don't like goin' there. Makes me think of Violet Engie, and how he died." Scoutbot gave a sad sigh. "Poor guy. He made me there, and suffered for it."

"Much has changed ssince then." Jacques gave a wicked grin, showing his pointed teeth. His yellow eyes looked up at the robot. "Trusst me: there is ssomething waiting for you there. It hass been waiting a long time."

"What? What is this thing?" Scoutbot asked.

"Oh...it is besst you go and ssee for yourself."

"You could just tell me, dude."

"I am a Ssspy. I don't jusst give out information. It iss more interessting thiss way."

"Ok, ok, I'll do it." Scoutbot said, standing up and idly brushing off his knees. His arm squeaked. "Ah, fuck, I got grit in my joints again. I tell ya, beaches are not good for robots."

"Life is a beach, Sscoutbot." Jacques said with a chuckle. "Every one is different, but they're all damp and ssometimes a little sssmelly. I'm not sure how sseaweed fits into this metaphor though."

"You're weird, you know that?"

"Oh yess." Jacques agreed. He suddenly hauled himself awkwardly out of the water, slithering across the pebbles with a grunt of effort until he reached a small barnacle-encrusted locker. He put the packet of cigarettes away neatly, and the retreated back to the water with a sigh. "Tell me how you get on, won't you? In confidence, of course."

"Promise." Scoutbot said with a nod. "Thanks, Jacques. You know, for listening."

"Any time." Jacques said. "I enjoy your visitss. If you ssee Sssniper Lawrence, tell him he sstill owes me after the lasst game of cardss. Goodbye and good luck, my friend." The man waved his clawed hand and then dived under the water with a gentle splash.

The altered Spy swam through the dark water, admiring the way shafts of moonlight struck the surface waves, lighting up the edges of rocks and floating motes of matter and filling the sea with silver glitter. Jacques moved easily and swiftly through the water, enjoying the soothing currents of water on his skin. It was silent down here except for the occasional clicking of excited fish defending territory or finding food. The seas had a harsh beauty that now belonged to him, in a way it had never belonged to a human before.

If I still count as human. Maybe not.

His stomach twinged in pain, and he rubbed it with a frown, realising that although he felt a little nauseous from whatever it was he had eaten that had disagreed with him, he was also very hungry. He let himself sink down to the bottom of the sea and changed his skin to rough and mottled brown, curling his tentacles over himself to blend in with his surroundings. All he had to do was wait until a shoal came close and snatch. As luck would have it, ambush was the best way to catch fish, and as a Spy, he was good at waiting and watching.

Yes. He was definitely good at waiting. No doubt about that. He was capable of glacial patience.

Merde, I wish I had a book. Or a cigarette, or both.

Cigarettes didn't work underwater of course, and books just got soggy. Jacques sighed, water fluttering out of his gills and turned his thoughts to the robot, watching the sea for the silver flashes of fish. Jacques could cope with being alone, he really could- but Scoutbot was naturally a far more social creature than he was. He needed like-minded company, but there was none to be had. At least he had helped there, a little- they were both so far outside the norm that it gave them something in common.

Jacques' clawed hand darted out and grabbed at a passing fish, catching it neatly before transferring it into a mass of squeezing tentacles and constricting it to death. The fish wriggled desperately for a few moments before its movements were reduced down to the occasional twitch, and the man daintily transferred it back to his hand before swallowing it whole, feeling the dying animal wriggle down his oesophagus. He remembered vaguely that this would once have disgusted him, but this was how he ate now. He felt a moment of nausea before the food filled his oddly achy stomach and soothed it.

He wondered if Scoutbot would actually go and visit Conagher's old workshop. He hoped he had convinced him. He grinned for a moment in the cold water. Alone in his watery home, Jacques was often bored, and it was certainly going to be interesting to find out what happened next.

After all, wasn't causing trouble what a Spy was best at?

In Chapter Six: Scoutbot has to decide whether to go and see this mystery thing Jacques mentioned...