Spy watched as the men exited the room. Except, Pyro didn't leave.

Of course, being a Spy, he highly disliked their Pyro. Sure, the little fire bug was a team member, but the shuddering cries that have left his lips, the crackling of his skin, and the last thing he sees being the Pyro, Spy didn't want to take any chances, even if the thing was nice and gentle with its team.

"Murddic?" Pyro said as he poked the man again. "Muurrrrdddic."

A groan escaped the unconscious German. Pyro was caught by surprise and jumped back, bumping into Medic's desk, causing all of his papers and minimal personal belongings to clutter onto the floor.

"Urr uh," Pyro muffled. He immediately backpedalled out of the room and left Spy alone with the drugged man.

Spy uncloaked, dusted off some imaginary dust off of his shoulders, and strutted over to the medical bed. He looked down at the German, and examined him as if he were the doctor. With a scoff, Spy flipped the switch on the Medigun and the familiar red glow of it disappeared into the Medic's chest.

"I'm doing you a big favour," Spy whispered into his ear before disappearing once again.

The Medigun continued to dispense its red glimmer into the Medic.

In his cloaked form, Spy stopped at the door and turned back to look at all the papers on Medic's desk. He crept over and shuffled through the ruffled mess.

"Ah," Spy said in awe. "Here it is."

He picked up the file with Elise's name printed on the tab, and tucked it under his arm as he closed the door securely behind him.

"Where's that bloody spook," Sniper growled. He stomped through the halls, shooting his head left and right, peering into the other halls. Sniper's trained eyes caught the familiar slender shadow of the Spy in a hall to his right. With a huff of frustration and anger, Sniper went into the hall, fists balled up tight.

Spy was checking the contents of the folder when Sniper shoved his shoulder.

"What's wrong with you?" Sniper asked with a raised lip.

"What do you mean?" Spy replied as he shut the folder closed.

"Oh, don't act so clueless, spook. What have you done with the Spy, huh? She used to be nice until you started training her. What am I talking about? For all we know, you could be fucking her brains out behind those solid doors!"

"Don't you dare say that about me. I'll have you know that I respect the women that I am with."

"Is playing with the women and breaking them what you consider to be respectful?"

"I am training her."

"That's not bloody training! You're just out to get her because she's a Spy."

"That's not true, bushman," Spy said as he straightened out his back, tilting his head up high. "What I do to train her is strictly professional. I did my best to get her out there..."

"Get her out there? You almost bloody killed her! She's not registered in the respawn system!" Sniper was red-faced and started to sweat on his forehead. "She wouldn't have been alive if it weren't for us!"

Spy rolled his eyes and laced his hands together behind his back, the manila folder closed shut between his skilled fingers. He traced over the textured card, feeling the vibrations under his gloves. His hands, stroking the smooth card, the same hands that ran over Elise's body.

Something changed in Sniper's face, albeit he had his reflective amber shades. Spy could feel the change in atmosphere.

"How do I know you're not the enemy?" Sniper growled.

Spy was caught by surprise and stuttered for an answer.

"You're hesitating..."

"I'm not the enemy."

"That's what the enemy would say," Sniper said as he tilted his head and cracked his knuckles. He shot his left hand and pinned Spy to the wall, his glove rubbing violently against Spy's balaclava. The papers dropped to the floor, fanning out of Spy's reach. "Of course the enemy would try to kill one of our own. What lies have you told my rookie, huh?"

"Your rookie?" Spy struggled to say as Sniper tightened his grip.

Sniper realized his mistake and shook his head vigorously, saying through gritted teeth, "You know what I mean, you traitor."

"I am not the enemy!" Spy said desperately. "Now please, let me down!"

"Not until you tell me why you've been treating our Spy like this, you BLU bastard!"

"I AM NOT BLU, BUSHMAN!" Spy gripped at Sniper's large hand. "She's my Spy too!"

Sniper's aviators slid down slightly, showing the top of his eyes, the dark blue shade piercing into Spy's soul. He took his right hand and reached behind him. The Bushwacka, a personal favourite of the Sniper's, was always with him at all times. He wouldn't be able to survive without it. Although his sniper rifle was what he was known for, he loved his blade. So sharp and shiny.

Slowly, Sniper pulled out his sharpened blade, a ting from its holster escaped from his padded vest. "Do you see this?"

Spy looked at his reflection in the Bushwacka. He could see sweat starting to form and wet the fabric of his mask. That's when Spy realized that he was afraid. Why should he be afraid? Spy then took the time in silence to compose himself.

He was going to die. Yes, there's no doubt. But there was always respawn... plus the golden pocket watch he was slowly opening in his suit pocket with his right hand.

"Now this," Sniper twisted it, "is a knife. Not like one of your flimsy little butter knives."

"Sniper, I am not the BLU Spy."

"How should I believe you?!" Sniper shouted in Spy's face, particles of saliva landing on his exposed flesh.

"Lawrence, I assure you, it's really me," Spy said with a calm voice and maybe a rogue grin pulling at his lips.

Sniper's grip loosened, then tightened, then finally released.

"I knew I couldn't trust Medic with my damn file," Sniper sneered. "Why are you doing this, mate? Why do you have to bloody hurt her all the time?"

"I am not. I'm just preparing her for what's to come."

"You should know better you fucking Frenchman. She's not registered, and if she didn't make it out there," Sniper pointed into the distance, "Helen would've beat you down."

"I don't have to worry about that hag. If anyone here is supposed to be scared, it should be her. She surrounds herself with deadly mercenaries. Who does she have? Miss Pauling? Of course not, she's too timid."

Sniper exhaled loudly through his nose as he sheathed his knife. "If I ever see her hurt again, I'm going to take your head."

Sniper never took his eyes off of Spy's head as he bent down to pick up the stray papers that contained very personal information; information that contained snapshots of Elise's life, snapshots that Spy would soon discover.

"Tell me something, Sniper," Spy said, referring to Lawrence as Sniper once again. "How do you see the Spy?"

"I see him as a self-absorbed asshole Frenchman. Someone who thinks that he's better than everyone," Sniper spat.

"Don't be a fool, Sniper. Answer me correctly."

Sniper shook his head and turned on his heel, heading back to his van. "I don't have time for this."

"But you always have time to talk to her. Why is that? You always talk about the team, yet you spend so much time away from us." Spy positioned the folder under his arm. "What makes you so attracted to her?"

Sniper turned around and was tempted to punch the nosy little bastard right in his sniffer. "I never said I was attracted to her."

"You show the many signs of love. Do you love her?"

"Fuck off Spy, she used to be my friend, until you had to come parading into our friendship."

"A friend? How interesting. The bushman made a friend," Spy hissed.

Sniper's lip twitched rapidly. He covered his mouth as he turned away. "You're a real nosy asshole, you know that?" Sniper said as his boots clicked away.

"So I've been told," Spy said heartily. He smiled and padded his back, congratulating himself for his smart remarks. "And," Spy said as he pulled out the papers from the folder, "I've been told your name is..."

He pulled out her picture. Her mug shot.

"Elise."