Red Spy began on his pursuit of his blue doppelgänger, figuring that by now the enemy spy would be making a bee-line for the exit. It wasn't a good idea to linger around too long whilst disguised and the maths behind this was simple; the longer you stuck around, the more time others had to poke holes in your cover-ID, the longer the team-mate you just back-stabbed had to re-spawn and show up again. It was very hard to lie your way out of that one, although it had been done before. Spy just happened to have a particularly good stroke of fate that very day.
He was indeed correct in thinking the rogue spy would be heading for the exit, and it looked like he wasn't the only one on the enemy's trail. Red Heavy was waddling towards the exit, Pyro's purse slung over his shoulder just as their Demo described. Red Pyro wasn't far behind him, and Spy drew the conclusion that the arsonist had detected something suspicious about Heavy as well, well on his way to igniting the Russian.
Spy didn't need any-more proof, though, overtaking Pyro in the chase and sneaking up on the running Heavy (a feat that wasn't entirely difficult in any sense of the word). He was still cloaked, so neither of them saw him coming. However, Spy being Spy, was compelled to make a cheesy one-liner before ending the traitor's life.
"Hungry, fat-man? Here, eat some of my knife!"
Heavy jumped (as much as the laws of physics would allow) and did his best to whirl around, but the Frenchman easily beat him to it, the sharp tips of his butterfly blades soon sinking with a satisfying impact into the Russian's wide and inviting back.
Heavy cried out. No matter how tough your exterior was, getting stabbed in the back that abruptly was just going to hurt. Plain and simple. And as his limp body thudded to the floor, Spy cackled triumphantly.
"Oh, I think you're already a bit thinner!" Spy mocked, watching the corpse with great interest, waiting for the tell-tale shroud of smoke to betray the enemy Spy's disguise.
But it never came.
His cackling slowed to a stop. What the hell...? He was so sure! It may have been odd that the enemy Spy didn't drop his disguise, but he figured that was to minimise the risk of getting caught.
"Bad move, mon ami." A familiar voice came from behind him, and as if to continue the situational irony, Red Spy was stabbed before he could even turn around, releasing a comically French death-cry before he slumped lifeless to the floor.
What Red Spy failed to realise- and couldn't possibly have known, was that the Pyro he thought was on his side was actually Blu Spy undercover. He had still been disguised from his previous run-in with Red Pyro. And while he had been busy trying to look cool with a taunt, Blu Spy had more than enough time to slip out of his disguise and plant his attack.
"Ahh..." Spy hummed, observing his handiwork on his red clone. "All in a day's work!"
"What. The. Hell. Is going on?!"
Blu Spy jolted upright again, immediately recognising the hint of disapproval upon the feminine voice, unlit cigarette falling out of his open mouth.
He didn't realise it till now, but he apparently had an audience all this time; Miss Pauling standing there with her arms crossed over her chest and her jaw hanging open, joined by a handful of his own team-mates, Scout grinning inanely while waving over to him- "Cool stab, bro!". ...And Red Medic? Oh great, the plan had crumbled to pieces, hadn't it?
"Ah- Miss Pauling!" The Frenchie still tried to recover some of his composure. "You're-"
"-Pissed." She quipped back, finishing his sentence with a stern look. "Why did Red Spy just stab his own team-mate?! Why did you just stab him? What is going ON?!"
"I can explain..." Spy offered, immediately trying to worm his way out of trouble, holding up a finger to bring everybody's attention down to a single point. Only so that nobody would notice him jab the cloaking function on his watch, slipping into nothing but thin air before Miss Pauling could protest.
"Spai go bai-bai!" Blu Heavy cried indignantly, blinking hard as if it would grant him thermo-vision.
"You slippery son of a-!" Miss Pauling started, but her jaw dropped completely before she could get the last word out. Apparently, she hadn't put this type of behaviour past him. Probably a naïve move on her part.
"Oh, he's just like our Shpy..." Red Medic muttered dryly, dismissing her shocked behaviour with a lazy wave of his hand, sparing Red Spy's corpse a glance. "Vell, perhaps I can make best of a situation and take a spare ear for my collection..."
"Doktor, NO!" Heavy intervened, halting the German from crouching any lower, scalpel already at the ready. "You are just like our Medic!"
"Ja!" Blu Medic chimed in joyfully. "I would have done exactly the same thing, mein Freund! Oh, that is why the joke is so funny, because of the irony of the situation-!"
"Buddy, buddy-" Engi clasped a gloved hand around the doctor's shoulder. "We get it..."
"Ai don't." Demo just blurted back, eye wide with confusion.
"Oh! Well, Demo-man, you see..."
Engi groaned painfully, forcing his attention to go somewhere else. Why did the Germans like to explain jokes? Or was it just these ones? "How ya holdin' up, Miss Paulin'?"
One scalding look from her was enough to answer that. Engi felt like his face had melted off.
"Oookay, sorry I asked..."
"Why was Heavy holding Pyro's bag...?" Pauling frowned, calming down enough to get a clear and good look of her surroundings and the inconsistencies of it. She approached the fallen thing, bending down to inspect. Scout was more than happy to watch from behind.
A few of Red Pyro's things had already tumbled out of the large floral duffel bag. Things that would have surprised anybody who didn't know the arsonist well enough; a make-up case (that nobody understood how Pyro applied to this day, mask and all), girly deodorant and surprisingly, some weekly-finance magazines, laying sharp contrast to most of everything else within the bag.
"Is pony-ballon there?" Blu Heavy asked, looming over, his wide shadow broad enough to contain all of Miss Pauling's petite-frame.
"The balloonicorn...?" She frowned back at him, "Why would that...-"
Wait, is that what this was all about?
Pauling remembered the mournful day Blu Pyro's balloonicorn gave way to the gaping hole at its side, and she remembered Pyro coming to her as well to deliver the news. At the time, she didn't- no, couldn't- think much of it, what with her hands already full with running errand after errand for the Administrator. The list of tasks was literally endless, and she went through notebooks like crazy. She soon learned to buy the damn things in bulk.
Heavy blinked at her as she trailed off into her own thoughts, the woman's eyes glazing over. "Miss..?" He probed.
"This... THIS is what it was all about?!"
Yup, she finally got it. Both Medics abruptly stopped their chattering (which was just as well, Demo still didn't get the joke), attention turning to the distressed lady in their wake.
"Well... We tried to tell you!" Blu Medic said with a sheepish grin- the same sheepish grin that was now plastered over everybody's faces. Except Scout's. He was still just grinning pervertedly, his eyes always finding a new part of Miss Pauling to admire.
"For all this, you went behind my back, conspired with members of the Red Team and sent me on a wild goose-chase to herd all of you together?!"
A snide voice in Miss Pauling's head wanted to tell her, "Welcome to the Fort!" but she did her best to suppress it. Right now, she had to deal with a bunch of boys who had misbehaved.
"...Yes. Yes, we did." Red Medic tried the honest approach, however blunt. It was probably a better idea than trying to pretty the piece-of-shit lie up- something that one of the spies would have tried to sell.
A pained groan ripped from Miss Pauling's throat, "Why- Why didn't one of you just come to me?!"
Engi felt responsible. He may have been a mercenary, but he was still the most goody-goody-two-shoes one out there. And on-top of that, he was also the founding father of this little plan. "Well, to be honest... We didn't think ya'd hear us out."
"Oh, Oh- I feel sick-" She grasped at her head, balance starting to waver on the spot.
"Uhh- Doc?!" Engi said nervously, trying to kick-start one of the Germans into action. Luckily, Heavy's gut-instinct to help got to her before she toppled over, large hands catching her easily.
"DOKTOR!"
"Oh- that's not good- coming, coming!" Blu Medic finally rushed over. "Now, if I can remember how to give a traditional physical-"
"Traditional...?" The Texan echoed back, a small look of fright beginning at his features. Perhaps getting their doctors to treat this wasn't the best idea...
"Oh- no, no! It's fine!" Medic waved off, chipper demeanour ever-present. "She is conscious!"
Back at the Red base, things were even more chaotic. It was still unbeknownst to them that Miss Pauling was onto them, let alone the fact that all of this was nothing more than a simple fetch-quest for Pyro's balloon. The war that had started was just a by-product, something that Blu Engi, Medic and Heavy wanted to avoid but saw no other way around. That said, their plan was probably already doomed to a violent nature given the fact that they all fought for a living. Peace-making wasn't exactly in their blood.
And when Red Heavy re-spawned back with Spy, he was certainly in no frame of mind to call a truce.
"SPAI! Why you have stab me?!"
The Frenchman was still in a daze when he finished re-assembling. What just happened had never quite happened to him before. The best he could do was blink stupidly back at Heavy, who was now very animated with anger.
"I knew you no take me seriously, ever! I am only fat-man to you, da?!"
"Demo said-" Spy started, but the Russian didn't feel like letting him speak yet.
"One of these days, I take Sasha and I make you feel like girly-man you are! SHE POUND YOU INTO PANCAKE!"
"Girly- moi?!" The masked man hissed vehemently, "You were the one carrying a pink purse!"
That seemed to shut the man up. "Oh what, did you think I'd forgotten, fat-man?! The only reason I stabbed you was because I suspected you were a spy! And when you are trotting around carrying something that belongs to one of our team-member's, how can you expect me to turn a blind eye?!"
"Mmmf-mmmf-mmmf?"
In midst of their quarrel, neither of them had noticed Pyro sitting in on their heated debate.
Spy's face twisted into a look of irritation. "Do you have any idea what he just said?"
"I only speak Russian and English, I no speak Umf!"
"I wouldn't go so far as to say you speak English, mon ami..." And just incase Heavy couldn't pick up on the condescending tone himself, Spy elaborated with, "Non, you butcher it. You butcher English."
The last thing Spy saw at that very moment was Heavy's fist plummeting down onto him.
When Spy re-spawned (yet again, the third time that hour), a few more team-mates had littered into the changing room. Heavy was now joined by their engineer, Pyro still among them. Presumably, the Russian had sought help and acquired himself an interpreter to understand what the arsonist wanted.
"He just keep pointing at locker! Then look back at me and expect me to understand!"
"Well, then he clearly wants to tell you that somethin's missin'!"
Uh oh. Figures Pyro would have caught on by now that his duffel had been stolen. Heavy did his best not to let his guilt show, however. "...I am supposed to just understand?!"
Spy sympathised somewhat with Heavy, despite the fact he had just dented his skull with his bare fist.
"Look- don' worry about that now, I'm here. So, whadya want, pal?"
Pyro repeated himself for what felt like the tenth time, gesturing to his locker and waving his arms over his head. Engi nodded along calmly.
"Fella says his purse is missin'." The Texan relayed without a trace of irony.
"Purse... You say?" The Frenchman finally stepped forward, cocking his brow in such a way that suggested he knew something, casting a quick glare to the Russian. Heavy gulped.
"You know somethin' about it then, Spook?"
Pyro perked with interest.
"Why yes, I believe I do..." He cast yet another look at Heavy, inviting him to say something. Cold dead silence. "Nothing to say, comrade? Or would you rather I speak for you?"
Now it was three pairs of eyes that fell expectantly onto the Siberian. 'O, dermo' Heavy thought, he wasn't any good at lying, or story-telling for the matter! At least not in this tongue, and even in his native tongue his sisters always managed to pluck the painful truth out of him. Yes, yes, it was him who ate the last bowl of borscht. Yes, it was also him who decided to bring the bear-cub back into the home. It had just looked so helpless by itself, separated from its mother.
His best option was to run.
"HEAVY MUST GO!"
What they saw next- the awkward attempt at the Leviathan trying to bolt at his greatest speed- inspired a variety of reactions from the trio; Engi frowned in confusion, trying to make sense of the situation, Spy's jaw hung open briefly in disbelief and Pyro's shoulders sagged- potential knowledge as to the whereabouts of his belongings were now gone. Well, going.
"-Hold on! Wasn't Demo just sayin' that there was a spy runnin' round here with Pyro's bag?"
"Yes."
"Didn't he tell you that so you could catch him?"
"Yes."
Engi blinked, hard. But he was still wearing his goggles so all Spy saw was the Texan's mouth opening in shock.
"...Well?!"
"It was him who had it."
Pyro made an inquisitive 'Mmf?', head quickly spinning to where Heavy was a few moments ago.
"...What?!"
"Yes, I know."
"Why?!"
Spy shrugged lazily. "Your guess is as good as mine right now, partner."
"Oh, my Lord and heavens below- after him!" Engi patted Pyro once on the arm before making chase after the Russian, picking up his radio. "Scout, where you at right now?"
"Uhh- about everywhere. Why?"
"If you see Heavy, do us a solid and... trip him or somethin'?! I donno!"
A brief pause. Clearly, Scout wasn't used to receiving such an order.
"Scout?!"
The next moment, a loud cry was heard from outside. It sounded very much like Heavy's. And as the shutters opened for him, Engi could confirm with his eyes that it had indeed come from Heavy, who was now splat flat against the floor on his front, Scout sat smugly atop his back.
"You have no. frickin'. idea. how long I've been waitin' for this day!"