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No. 3766
And this is the point where cashew puts down the drawing tablet and tries to write fiction hoping it won't suck too terribly. I feel I should warn you, I can't write for SHIT, so please accept this is as my apology ahead of time. I in no way, shape, or form proclaim to be a writer. (I'm an artist, not a doctor damn it!) I'm definitely more comfortable drawing fluff than writing about it. In fact, you'll probably wish you had these minutes of your life back. So if you do decide to hunt me down at least give me a head start, seeing as how I can't run very fast. I am open for crits so feel free. I'm always up for improvement.

Oh and in case you don't know me very well, this is obviously centered around Sniper/Spy, more so Spy in this case. Sorry, I can't help it. Don't say I didn't warn you.

And thank you i eat paste for beta'ing~! (Honestly, I was very hesitant to post this but paste threatened me with physical harm...and withholding fluff )


As he strolled down the hallway, the BLU Spy had time to mull over the day's events. Nothing seemed to have gone at all as planned, he mused. The battle had ended in a tie, which left a bitter taste in his mouth. Somehow a tie felt worse than an actual loss to him, no clear winner meant there was nothing to gloat about. Even the weather hadn't been in their favor; the sudden onslaught of rain hindered their view and made it difficult to maneuver quickly on wet surfaces. Though it had been quite amusing to watch Scout skid and slam into walls. But Spy had fared no better, he silently admitted. While trying to dismantle a sentry, the RED Engineer was quick to notice the 'mysterious' puddle of water that had formed on the ground for no apparent reason. Spy still berated himself for that; he should have known better than to try and cloak while wet. He wasn't sure what was worse: the mud that still clung to his suit and shoes or the fact that he had to hang his disguise-masks up to dry in his room.

And as if it wasn't bad enough to have to hear the Announcer voice her displeasure at their loss, the team then had to endure Soldier's tirade about their so-called incompetence. Never mind the fact that it was Soldier who decided halfway through battle to fore-go the agreed upon strategy, a strategy he devised by the way. This only made matters worse, coupled with the horrid weather and low morale.

/Foolish American.../ Spy thought to himself, as he made his way into the mess hall.

Now with that over and done with, Spy allowed himself to somewhat gracefully slink into a seat at the table. The rest of them team was relatively quiet. Either they sat prodding at their plates half-heartedly or nursed their wounds, but all were in foul spirits. Each one looked a sight; caked in mud and in an array of makeshift bandages. The verbal abuse left them all too worn out to talk. Their need for food out weighed their desperate need to hit the showers first, despite Medic's insistence about the importance to be clean against possible infections. Food first, showers later was the decision for that night.

As Spy did a visual sweep of the room, he noticed not everyone was accounted for. Demo had gotten himself pretty plastered during Soldier's rant, so they chose to leave him be after he passed out. Medic at least had the decency to roll him over so he wouldn't choke on his own vomit. Scout had argued that it didn't make a difference anyway, what with respawn in effect. Speaking of whom was seated across from Spy, right next to the Engineer. Heavy and Medic were at the far end of the table, with Medic continuing to try and clean Heavy's wounds when the Russian was too preoccupied with food. Soldier had stayed behind in the 'War Room' to devise a newer, better strategy; it was really just his own room but no one dared to call him out for it. And with Pyro in the kitchen playing with the stove, as evident by the muffled giggles and sudden brightness that emanated from the room, that left only Sniper missing. Spy had a feeling the marksman was off sulking in his van; having not gotten any clean head-shots for the day would be enough to make anyone moody.

Spy glanced down at the dinner before him. Granted, Pyro had become quite efficient at being the team chef, but Spy didn't feel he could bear to stomach anything at the moment. Perhaps he would pay the Aussie a visit. He relinquished his seat, which was soon taken up by Scout's outstretched legs. A boost of morale was just what Spy needed.


As he made his way through the mud, Spy cursed Sniper's decision to park his 'home' so far from the fort. Spy could understand the man's reasons for privacy, but why he couldn't just sleep in the sniping battlements, let alone the barracks, irritated the Frenchman. After all, it was he who had to make the trek out to visit the loner; out in the open with little cover, in the mud no less. Though on reflection it probably was for the best, as the masked-man quickly recalled how on some nightly visits they got rather...vocal, to say the least. It certainly wouldn't do to have the entire team show up to investigate the noises they made, let alone try to explain what they were doing. He knew Scout would never let them hear the end of it, the little hypocrite that he was.

Now closer to the van, Spy could make out a light from the side window, indicating its owner was definitely home. He couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the thought of Sniper moping over a cup of coffee and a beer, probably still in his muddy clothes. Clothes that Spy was sure would soon be discarded. He had no doubt that he would find /something/ to help take the Aussie's mind off of his bad day. Wicked thoughts of what the night held played through his mind as his knuckles rapped confidently against the door, waiting patiently to be allowed in. They had agreed that while Spy could no doubt pick the lock to sneak in, it would ensure that no 'impromptu' spy checks were needed. The assassin found that out the hard way the first time he decided to pay a surprise visit; he had earned a trip to the respawn room as well as learned not to silently approach Sniper when the man held a frying pan.

Shuddering at the memory, he quickly cast it aside as he heard the door unlock. As the door opened a crack, his expectations of a sulking Sniper were cast aside as the Australian looked out at him in what Spy could only define as sheepishly.

"Oh, I didn't expect you coming by tonight, mate," Sniper laughed somewhat nervously, peering out at the man before him.

"And yet 'ere I am, mon cher," Spy replied as he went to step inside only to find the door closing a bit.

"Eh-ah, not tonight, I'm afraid," He explained, pausing to scratch the back of his neck. "Got a bit of a headache."

"I am sure I can find some way to take your mind off of eet." The Frenchman purred, though to no avail as he once more found his entrance denied.

"Maybe some other time."

Spy definitely did not like this turn in events. As a last ditch effort he raked his mind for anything that would gain him entrance, short of anything too embarrassing of course. He wasn't /that/ desperate, his pride told him.

"Not even going to let me in for a cup of tea?" He asked, but would thoroughly deny he did so with a pout.

"Wot, and get mud on my floors?" Sniper responded as he glanced down at Spy's attire, still caked in mud. This of course overlooked the fact that he too was just as muddy himself.

Any retort Spy could think of died before leaving his lips, as he stood flabbergasted at this turn in events. He barely had time to process Sniper bidding him goodnight and shutting the door before the Frenchman realized he was still standing outside for nothing, mouth agape. Here he had gone out of his way to visit the recluse, further ruining his suit in the mud, only to be turned away at the door. /How ungrateful/, he fumed. He briefly thought of just picking the lock but preferred not to return to base via respawn. Trudging back, Spy made a mental note to ensure the next visit he paid would not bode well for the Australian.


The next day proved to be a bit better. The weather was much nicer and a bit on the warm side, though not much could be said about the actual fighting. Both teams found themselves currently at a stalemate. On the up side, Spy had only died twice so far. He didn't count the last one though, seeing as how it was Scout's fault. He'd have to remind himself later to be sure to 'thank' the boy for that. Sensing that not much else could be done at the moment, Spy decided a trip to Sniper's nest was in order. See if the man had gotten over his 'headache'.

As he made his way up the ladder and through the hatch door, Spy paused to take in the view. There by the window Sniper sat perched on a crate, ever vigilant to the fighting at hand. The Frenchman had warned him such tunnel vision was the main reason he was backstabbed so often, but the Aussie merely shrugged it off. He had also warned him to be sure to lock the hatch door while shooting but that only earned him a scoff and a 'thank you, mum' for his trouble. Honestly, it was as if the marksman were begging to be made into a human pincushion. He made a nice enough target though; Spy chuckled quietly to himself, eyeing the Sniper who had discarded his hat and vest due to the heat. The wood in the room did its job of absorbing the sun's rays, making it almost unbearable. Sniper seemed unaffected by it, though Spy chalked it up to the man's previous living conditions in the Outback.

The assassin sauntered over to the preoccupied man, careful not to step on the floorboards he knew would creak and give him away prematurely. He had been up there enough times that he was sure he could be blindfolded and still not make a sound. Stepping behind the man, smirk ever present on his face, he took out his cigarette case and placed it against Sniper's back in a playful manner.

"You are dead, mon cher." The Frenchman grinned as he noticed the slight twitch in the man's posture and hitch in breath.

"...I knew you were there." Trying to regain his composure, Sniper turned his attention to the masked man behind him as he glanced over his shoulder. His body still faced the window as he lowered his gun to rest in his lap.

"I am sure you did," Spy replied as he took a cigarette from the case, gesturing to the other man if he wanted one as well. Receiving a short nod, he placed the two between his lips, lit them, then passed one to Sniper.

"Thanks, mate."

"So... 'ow ez zat headache of yours, mon ami?" Spy inquired, slowly placing his hands on the man's shoulders and beginning to massage small circles with his thumbs. He knew such a gesture would be welcomed. Sitting in one position all the time took its toll on the Sniper, and the Frenchman was eager to assist.

"mmn...hmm? Oh! Roight, my headache. Yea, it's a-- it's doing better, thanks." Smoke seeped from his lips, Sniper deeply exhaled as he felt the gloved fingers play over his back.

Despite his gentle touch, Spy could feel the man tense up more at his questioning. Something was wrong, something the Australian wasn't telling him. But who better to find out exactly what it was than a man of his profession. He was an expert at making people divulge their most darkest of secrets; hell, he had even gotten Scout to confess he still slept with a blanket. This should be cakewalk. Nothing was out of his grasp. Speaking of which, he could feel the man's shoulders start to relax. Such vulnerability Sniper allowed himself, putting so much trust in the hands that were now caressing him.

Perfect. Spy continued at his languid pace, alternating pressure from his fingers to his thumbs that, if done at the right spot, elicited soft moans from the Aussie. Though quiet at first, those moans were like music to the assassin's ears. He enjoyed being able to draw out such emotions from the normally stoic individual. Not to mention that it was he who was able to do it; such a feeling of power was intoxicating, not even the best wine could come close. Those moans became more pronounced as he moved his hands north, running them a bit through Sniper's hair. Though he would never outwardly admit it, the Frenchman loved doing it. He cursed himself slightly, wishing he had taken his gloves off before starting, now not being able to enjoy its texture.

"So...," The casual conversation route would loosen those lips a bit, Spy decided, flickering some ash off the end of his cigarette. "Any good shots today?"

"Eh, not really," Sniper groused, attempting to blow smoke rings Spy had once taught him. "I nicked a Medic earlier; would've had him 'cept I think he got called."

"I am sure zat you will get 'im next time." Spy smirked as he heard disappointment in his partner's voice. Honestly, the man could get so riled up at missing a shot. Not that it happened often, but when it did he got a kick out of how the Australian pouted.

"Yea...how bout you? Get their Engie's knickers in a twist yet?" The shooter grinned, knowing full well how Spy loved to annoy the Texan by dismantling the man's metallic children.

"Oh, eet was going quite well actually. I 'ad just finished placing ze sapper on ze sentry before disposing and 'iding the man's body to take 'is place."

"...And?" Feeling the hands tense up on his neck, Sniper could already tell the story wouldn't end in the Spy's favor.

"And eet was at zat moment Scout decided to run my way as I 'id the Engineer's body, congratulating me for ze kill as 'e went past." A grimace made its way to Spy's face. "Of course 'e failed to mention ze Pyro who was fast on 'is trail. Needless to say, I still smelled like charcoal after respawn."

Sniper tried to hold in his laughter but failed miserably at the mental image of a toasty Spy, choking a bit on his smoke. This of course earned him a quick tug at his hair. A small price to pay though, seeing as how a smile inevitably worked its way onto the Frenchman's face.

"I'm sure you'll find some way to repay him, mate."

"Oh, I zhink I will find a way" Ever confident, he was already mulling over some ideas. Ideas that involved garters, thumbtacks, and wood glue.

After he decided a change in conversation was in order, Spy brought his hands back down to the man's shoulders. He took a final drag of his cigarette before stamping it out on the floor, smoke billowing from his nose. He leaned in close enough that he was almost touching the marksman's ear, his breathe hot and heavy.

"You know...I was a bit upset last night," Lips now in danger of touching. "I 'ad such plans for ze evening."

"Sorry to disappoint, love." Soft moans soon followed as the Frenchman began working on a knot he found between the man's shoulder blades. Sniper put out his cigarette as well, sensing where the conversation was headed.

"Well, I am sure zat you can find /some/ way to make eet up to me, non?" A wicked grin crept its way onto Spy's face.

"Hmm? Do you now?"


Determined to up the ante a bit, Spy began a trail of ghost-like kisses to the back of the man's neck. He knew it was welcomed as he felt Sniper shudder at the sudden contact. Soon those light pecks became more heated, pressed in earnest. Roaming over the skin, Spy decided more attention was needed for the Australian's neck. There was just something about those muscles that made the assassin devote more time on them, especially now feeling them tighten under his tongue.

"Oh, that's it love, roight----roight there." Sniper groaned, as he tilted his head to one side to expose more of his neck as the Spy nuzzled into him.

Nips here and there, Spy began his assault on the man's flesh. If he kept this up Spy knew pretty soon he'd have the shooter right where he wanted him; relinquishing any secret in hopes for more. The assassin already knew that this encounter wouldn't go /too/ far though; he had to repay the marksman for his 'hospitality' the previous night someway. /We will see who stands up who/ Spy grinned as he continued his onslaught. Relishing in the taste of skin and sweat, the feel of stubble, and the groans that echoed through Sniper's throat, Spy snaked his arms around to the front and began to toy with the man's shirt buttons. Slowly starting at the top, he gracefully undid the shirt. Fabric loose around the neck, the Frenchman now had better access to Sniper's shoulders. Caressing the man's chest, he moved his mouth lower. A growl escaped Sniper's throat at the sudden loss of contact on his neck. The annoyed growl quickly became a pleasant hiss as Spy turned his attention to the man's shoulder, biting a bit only to then placate it with soft kisses.

All was going well until an alien feeling met Spy's lips. He pulled back to study the man's skin more closely. There, on his left shoulder, were several scratch marks. And what was more curious was they appeared somewhat fresh, a set of them deep enough to have drawn blood at some point in time. Sniper, noticing his partner's hesitation, turned slightly to look at him.

"Something wrong, mate?" Eyes still glazed behind his glasses, he studied the masked face hoping to find out why those delicious feelings had stopped.

"You did not tell me you 'ad been wounded..." Eye narrowed, ready to mentally pull apart the coming response piece by piece for any hint of deception.

"Ah, yea, forgot that I had a tussle earlier. Bloody lil ankle-biter thought he had the drop on me, " Sniper mumbled, embarrassment becoming apparent on his face." ...you were roight telling me to lock the hatch."

"A 'tussle'? You 'ave no blood on your shirt though." A quick observation, Spy watched and waited to see if the Aussie could explain his way out of that one.

"It was hotter earlier. I've only just now put my shirt back on, before you arrived." Sniper explained a bit quicker than normal, eyes darting as they refused to meet Spy's gaze for too long. "Got 'im though. A lot worse than he got me by far, ha-ha."

Spy glanced at the man, eyes just now spotting more of those marks on Sniper's left forearm. How had he missed those, he silently kicked himself. He could only wonder if the Sniper had more of those marks on his person, and of course /where/.

"Glad to hear eet, mon ami," Trying to sound calm despite the cold sensation in his stomach. "I shall distract you no more zen. I would not want you to get further injured on my account."

A bit reluctant on Sniper's part but oddly enough he didn't put up much of an argument. A quick nod and Sniper was back to watching the field. As Spy made his way down the ladder, he kept running over the past events in his head. He had been suspicious before, but now it had increased ten-fold. Being turned away the previous night coupled now with these marks and Sniper's unusual demeanor could only mean one thing in Spy's mind. The Australian had been involved with another man.

After the initial anger ebbed away at the thought, along with the desire to climb back up and simply backstab the man, he kept thinking. Why was this bothering him so much? Surely if Spy felt like getting back at the Aussie he too could play the same game. It wouldn't even be a challenge, he thought confidently, imagining just how easy it would be to woo another. But then he admitted it would take too long and he already had Sniper trained well enough to know what he wanted. What he liked. He didn't feel quite up to the task of 'breaking in' another team mate; he had already gotten too close to the Sniper as it was. Something else was gnawing at him. The feeling that someone had taken something that rightfully belonged to him, and done so right under his nose. He hated that feeling. No one stole from Spy and got away with it intact.

But why would Sniper risk doing something he surely knew would incur Spy's vengeance? The man was not an imbecile, Spy grinned as he thought of some of the other men on his team. So why? What would cause him to do this, an action that was so unlike the man? Running this idea in his mind, Spy briefly thought it might have been something he had done. Had he become too monotonous for Sniper that he had to seek the comforts of someone else? No. That was preposterous, he assured himself. There was nothing wrong with his methods, not even dignifying the question in regards to his technique. The marksman had never voiced his displeasure at anything Spy had done.

And if he had become too blasé, he always had the masks to improvise. Spy delightfully recalled the first night he had experimented with the notion and prodded the Sniper until he caved in to the idea. He began to think back to that first night more thoroughly now in regards to the situation at hand. Sniper seemed hesitant at first, claimed it would be weird knowing full well it was still Spy. Plus the awkwardness to then have to face the real colleague the following morning. But as all things eventually go, the Frenchman got his way. Spy then thought about the masks he had used so far: Scout, Engineer, Medic, and even the RED Spy. Oh and less he forget the one night he tried, unsuccessfully, to use the Sniper's own disguise. Spy had only wished to show the man what wonderful faces he made during their romps. But now even he had to admit Sniper was right; it would a bit creepy to watch yourself writhe beneath you, no matter how pleasurable it was or looked.

But perhaps that was it; Spy could feel his gut wrench at the thought. In trying to keep things interesting he had inadvertently given the man the idea of bedding another. And now it seemed as though Sniper had acted on it. Perhaps Spy was simply not enough and the marksman wanted a taste of the real thing...


The Frenchman refused to let this go quietly. Spy was second fiddle to no one. He would deal with Sniper and his new paramour the only way he knew best.

Like a professional.

Marked for deletion (old)
>> No. 3767
this story makes me giddy because the fluff, i cannot do, but you do well. hehehheehhhehhehehe
>> No. 3768
cashew, I think this is great! I really can't wait to see how this develops! Don't put yourself down so soon mate, paste was right about it being chan-worthy <3
>> No. 3769
oh god this is great! You and Paste are simply wonderful, please continue!
>> No. 3772

>> No. 3773
this = great
>> No. 3774
Can you draw and write simultaneously? If so, you could become a god. Personally, I'd suggest you cut down on Spy's inner monologue. It was all well and good, but it became somewhat long and tiring, something you could have made shorter. Anyway, I'd love to see this be continued.
>> No. 3776
Most intriguing. I eagerly await more.
>> No. 3777
you make me baww so much from your story, I must make you dawww from fluff. daww i tells you!
I am my own worst critic, so pessimistic at times, haha
oh man, the caps did me in. oww my sides, too much laughing <3
thanks for the advice. This being my first fic, I wasn't sure how to go about it. I'll be sure to keep that in mind for the next installments

and everyone else <3
>> No. 3785
An secret needing to be found out and an unknown lover needing to be identified? It's rather convenient he's already a Spy because that's exactly who this job is for! I am excite to see what happens next!
>> No. 3786
I can't write for SHITLIES.

Don't sell yourself short, you've got a nice way with words and I don't get me started on what plotiness you have going on there. Oh, Spy, you better get your man back in check.

(Oh, and I totally TEEHEE'd while reading about Spy's mask fetish and getting Sniper to actually do it. Mmm, kinky.)
>> No. 3787
That other person better be worth it, Sniper. :D
>> No. 3794
If this does not end in /afanfic/ I am going to be so very disappoint.

You made me squeal like a little fanboy and I love you for it.
>> No. 3798
he had even gotten Scout to confess he still slept with a blanketYou make my life... MAKE IT.

Ideas that involved garters, thumbtacks, and wood glueI am intrigued... please do it!

/We will see who stands up who/Spy's such a teenage girl.... I LOVE IT.

Seconding this hardcore.
>> No. 3802
And just as I was craving some fluff, you go and write this! I AM INTRIGUED.
>> No. 3804
thirded with so much want.
>> No. 3805
you...you are a truely wonderful human being...
>> No. 3806
I love you, you wonderful person <3
>> No. 3807
You've got me hooked! I need to read more!
>> No. 3821
Oh my, I can't wait to see where you go with this. So tantalizing.
>> No. 3846
God, why am I such a fag for these two. Something's wrong with me, I just know it
Anyhoo, I hope you guys enjoy this next installment. Thanks again for the above comments

Thanks once again to i eat paste for beta'ing~!

Part II

One could not simply rush into a situation as sensitive as this. This type of thing needed to be handled with care, with finesse, and above all with absolute certainty. Spy needed to have concrete evidence before actually accusing Sniper. To leave no possible route of escape for the man when confronted. Sure, the scratch marks could help prove it but as previously seen, Sniper had an excuse. A flimsy excuse but one just the same. No, Spy needed something else.

Another piece in this puzzle would be to find out whom it was Sniper was now involved with. Taking into account Sniper's demeanor and interests, Spy could already eliminate obvious candidates: Soldier was too unstable, Demo too drunk, and Pyro...just no. He was fairly certain neither Medic or Heavy were the ones, as those two never seemed to part from each other. And he firmly believed Heavy could not possibly fit in Sniper's van. That left Scout and Engineer as the remaining suspects.

A dry chuckle played on Spy's lips. He was quite positive Scout had handled the Texan's wrench on occasion, asking for more than just a dispenser. He remembered some days passing by the Engineer's workshop to see the boy perched on a chair, glancing over the drafting table. Like a puppy just waiting for his master to stop and pay attention to him. If anyone could stand to put up with Scout for more than five minutes it would be Engineer. The man had the patience of a saint, a trait that irked Spy to no end. The boy seemed to respond to the older man's influence, judging by how the Texan could quiet the youth with just a glance. But that did not mean the boy was loyal. Kids these days, always looking for the next thrill. With Scout practically the poster child for such activities.

But then an even worse possibility worked its way inside the Frenchman's mind; what if it was a member from the RED team. He knew it could be an option but one he'd hate to dwell on. Logically, the only RED who would have close contact with Sniper would be the opposing Spy. And possibly the RED Scout, Spy contemplated. If the boy was anything like his BLU counterpart, it would be just like the little bastard to run up to the nest to cause trouble. The only flaw with this would be to explain how the REDs managed to make their way to Sniper's camper. Sure the RED Spy could easily cloak or disguise himself as a BLU to gain entrance. But for some reason Spy doubted it was him. He recalled all the rants and insults Sniper made about the man, most times forgetting the insults could be implied for him as well. The other problem with this was how to explain the RED Scout being able to make it to the van. Sure the boy could run fast, but not enough to be completely unseen by any of the other BLUs. Not to mention the sentries Engineer insisted on having around base at night. For once Spy was glad the man had taken extra precautions for the team's safety.

So with four suspects, Spy pondered where to start. He could look for evidence in the nest when Sniper was not there. Perhaps an article of clothing was left behind? Or he could search the van? He decided it best to observe his colleagues first, see if they gave anything away in conversation. And with that Spy found himself looking forward to the end of the day's battle. That's when his own work would begin.


Papers scattered over desks and crates, the smell of oil, and the occasional beep of the sentry in the corner greeted Spy as he made his way carefully into the Engineer's workshop. Never hurts to be too cautious, remembering how the Texan had once threatened to turn off the safeties to his machines. Spy knew after the outcome of this morning's battle, another stalemate, Engineer would most likely be patching up his machines and formulating some way to make them more efficient.

Not seeing the stout worker around, the assassin found it a little out of place to see Scout alone in the room. The boy was seated on a spare table looking bored as he traced his fingers over a baseball, still looking a bit roughed up from the day's fight. The smell of Spy's cigarette was what first caught the boy's attention. Scout fidgeted in place, waiting to see what the frog wanted, swinging his legs slightly to and fro as if they had a mind of their own.

"Aww, does ze Engineer know you are 'ere by yourself?" By now having closed the gap to stand at a comfortable distance, Spy cautiously eyed the baseball bat on the table next to Scout.

"Ah fuck you, frog, I ain't no baby. He's back there," Scout motioned over his shoulder. Indeed the boy was right as Spy could make out the form of Engineer hunched over his drafting table, completely oblivious to the world around him. "Busy working on his sentry 'schemantics' or whatever. Something 'bout checking for spies...hey, wanna stick around to help test it out, assclown?"

The smug grin on the boy's face only earned him a cloud of smoke courtesy of the Frenchman. Coughing and sputtering out a few colorful words, the boy went to grab his bat from the table. But with his vision blurred, eyes tearing a bit from the smoke, he only managed to send some spare scrap metal to the floor in his search. The offending noise roused the Texan from his work but did not cause him to actually turn around.

"Dangit boy, now I thought I told you to quit messin' around, 'specially near that sentry. I need to concentrate here." A quick scrapping of a pencil and the man was back in his own thoughts.

Spy glanced at the afore-mentioned sentry to his right. Most likely a work in progress as it sat motionless, the exhaust plate open exposing some of its parts.

"So whatcha doin' here, spook, 'sides being a pain in my ass?" Scout mumbled, fingers scratching at a bandage on his face. Fingers, Spy noticed, whose nails were too closely trimmed to leave any scratches. The boy made a disgusting habit of biting them. But that did not clear him just yet, there being no guarantee that they weren't longer last night.

"Oh, and 'ere I thought you enjoyed zat kind of thing."

A brief look of confusion before Scout understood the implication. "Aw, fuck you numbnuts."

"Such a way with words, petit. But I am sure you 'ave found other ways to put zat mouth of yours to good use, non? Shall I ask ze Engineer?"

"Fuckin' pansy-ass..." Glaring now, a red tint began to form on the boy's face and ears. "'Sides, way I hears it, you're tha one wearing the pantyhose on your end, asspirate."

"Zey are called /garters/, you uncultured cretin. Perhaps if you had any class, you would know something about eet." Spy flicked some ash from his cigarette, appearing to be uninterested with their conversation.

"I'd rather not if it means I don't gotta dress like a dame." A grin made its way onto the boy's face.

"Non, you seem to do zat well enough on your own eet seems."

Ignoring the comment, Scout knew he had to try a different approach. He should have the home field advantage here, the Boston boy thought, safe enough that the Spy couldn't physically harm him without incurring the Texan's wrath. If he couldn't rile up the Frenchman by insulting him directly, he would pitch a bit closer to home. Guess he'd have to find the hole in Spy's swing. "But I guess that's the way /he/ likes it, huh?"

Strike one.

"Lemme guess. You gots ta look like a doll in order for him to get it up? Be his 'French maid' and suck on his éclair, hmm?"

Strike two.

"Course, I guess he'd take what he can get. Being all lonely in that fag van. I /almost/ feel bad for him, having to look at your ugly mug as he tries ta get off. But at least with that mask on he don't really hafta look at you. And I bet with all that French comin' outta ya, he don't hafta give a damn with what ya say. Nothin' but a bonk buddy."

But rather than try to swing for the downs, Spy decided a bunt would do just as well. Refusing to waste any more breath on the impudent brat, a sly grin worked its way on the assassin's face, eyes going from the machine next to him and back to Scout. Before the boy could even begin to put together what was going to happen, Spy managed to pull a support pin from the sentry. Scout could only sit there dumbfounded as the machine echoed a groan, caved at one side, and buckled under its own weight as it slipped to the ground.

"Zank you for your time, petit," Spy smirked, cloaking as he placed the pin in Scout's hand.

The boy's eyes went wide as he looked from where the assassin had been to the mess on the floor. Now hearing an angry Engineer make his way over, he quickly realized he still had the support pin the Spy slipped him.

/Oh fuck/

As Spy made his way out of the workshop, he grinned victoriously as he could hear Engineer holler and fume at Scout while all the boy could do was sputter his innocence. As he continued on his way, noises fading in the background, Spy wondered what route he should take next. Perhaps it was time to pay the Sniper another visit? But this time, he would not take 'no' for an answer.


Opening the door to his camper, Sniper stood once more looking down at his masked visitor.

"Do not try to talk your way out of zis one, mon cher." Spy chuckled as he firmly pushed the door open, catching the marksman by surprise. "I even brought some of ze Medic's aspirin with me, in case you 'ad another 'eadache."

"I don't think he'd appreciate you swiping his stuff, mate." Sniper grinned as he tried to regain his composure, watching Spy make his way to the 'kitchen' area.

"I am merely borrowing eet. Besides, I was disguised as Scout at ze time so eet wouldn't bother me if 'e did 'appen to see me." He shrugged as he planted himself in a seat by the table, removing the bottle of pills from his pocket.

"Naughty bugger." Sniper laughed as he took a seat opposite the assassin, resuming the coffee he had prior to the man's arrival. "Medic'd probably tan his hide for it if he saw you."

"Oh? Are you worried 'e will get into trouble?"

"Nah, why would I be?"

"You tell me, mon ami."

Confused, the Sniper decided to continue his drink rather than answer.

They sat in silence for a while, Spy using that time to his advantage as he read the man's movements. The shooter's body language spoke volumes; jaw set, arms crossed, shoulders hunched, with his eyes continuing to dart across the room.


It was then that Spy noticed Sniper's gaze drift in the direction of the bedroom more frequently, despite the door being shut. He was hiding something...or someone. The Frenchman knew he'd have to press a bit harder in order to crack the marksman.


"Hmm?" Sniper surprised at Spy finally breaking the silence. "A little I guess. Not that many headshots today."

"Well, if you want, we could call eet an early night."

"Oh...OH! Uh, I'm not sure 'bout tonight, mate." It was obvious he was struggling for an excuse. "I planned on waking up early tomorrow. Try and get some practice in before work. Soldier'll have my head if I don't up my body-count."

"I do not mind. I could even make you your coffee and convince Scout to be your target practice." Spy figured if it was the boy in the other room, that comment would've earned him a response to give him away. But alas, nothing.

"Nah, I'd hate to bug you. I know how you value your 'beauty sleep' as you put it." Sniper softly laughed.

Once more, silence filled the room. Sniper continued to drink while Spy planned his next move.

"One would think you 'ave been avoiding me, monsieur." Ok, so that wasn't as subtle as he had hoped. But right now Spy was losing his patience; he didn't have as much as the Sniper did.

"Ha-ha, don't you think you're just being paranoid there a bit?" Despite his attempt at humor, Spy could see right through him. The shooter was tense, refusing to look at him directly.

"Eet's part of my job. I would not be very good at eet if I careless."

"I guess that's true. But still..."

"You know zat I---"

Further inquiry would be put on hold as a sudden noise caught both of the professionals' attention. A noise that came from the door leading to the bedroom. Eyes darting from the door to Sniper, Spy could instantly see the panic set in. Forget finding evidence when the evidence could come to you. What better way to prove it than with the culprit at the scene? There would be no way for the Australian to talk his way out of this. A feeling of triumph and sickness swept through the Frenchman; this proved he had been right all along but that only meant he now had to accept it. Brandishing his revolver, Spy stood and made his way to the door, only pausing to glare at Sniper as he took hold of the assassin's arm.

"Listen mate, I can explain, I-"

"/Explain?/ Hah! Did you really think of me as zat stupid?" Spy hissed, wrenching his arm from Sniper's hold. "Did you think I would not discover this? Eet is quite insulting you would think so low of me."

"I didn't say you were--would you put that away?" An attempt to grab the gun only earned the Australian a rough push back into the table, coffee cup spilling its remaining contents. Spy would not be deterred, not while he was this close.

"Really, I should 'ave known. " Despite his attempt to try and sound imposing, Spy could not hold back the hurt in his voice.

"Wot are you going on about?"

"Oh please, enough of zis foolishness. You can drop ze act; eet was not a very good one to begin with I'm afraid." Still met with strange looks, Spy rolled his eyes. Honestly, this was getting ridiculous if the man thought he could try and hide it from Spy now. "Ze change in attitude, avoiding me, ze /scratch marks/. Eet is obvious you have found yourself another paramour."

"Another pair a----wot?! Bloody English mate!" The man growled, irritated by the language barrier used in this confrontation. If he was going to be accused of something it bloody well be in a form he could understand.

Gripping the door handle to the bedroom, gun at the ready, the Frenchman smirked. "Better yet, why not show you? I know 'ow you like visuals over explanations."

Turning the handle to find it unlocked, Spy opened the door ready to face whomever it may be. But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw before him. This....he had not considered this even in his wildest dreams.

>> No. 3847
Sniper got a pet koala! Right? Or maybe a big monitor lizard! Hahahaa...Sorry...the very idea of Sniper with a cute lil pet koala sends me into giggle fits!
>> No. 3848
>> No. 3849
*claps hands together* YAY!! This story is so much fun to beta. I HEART IT.
>> No. 3850

I'm hoping this. My heart would melt like the polar ice caps if Sniper had a Koala <3
>> No. 3851
Yeah, I was thinking koala too. I hope it is.
>> No. 3857
>God, why am I such a fag for these two. Something's wrong with me, I just know it.
NO, everything's absolutely fine with you <3
(and me too, because I'm also a fag for Sniper/Spy fluff)

and I'm also crossing my finger for a koala <3
>> No. 3859
If Spy's being upstaged by a bird (what I think it is) or a fluffy animal (My sacone "what I think it is") I will be so amused... so VERY amused.
>> No. 3860
AWW. Raging jealous Spy is stealing my freakin' heart!
Cashew, your love for Spy/Sniper is NEVER wrong.
>> No. 3876
I'm going with a jackalope.
>> No. 3878
I'm just thinking of the sex face meme right now.
>> No. 3881
This....he had not considered this even in his wildest dreams.
The kangaroo looked up from rummaging through Sniper's drawers. Seeing another creature besides Sniper, it began to edge toward the spy.

"What ze-" Spy's expletive was cut off as two hundred pounds of kangaroo hit him in the face.
>> No. 3892
I love you, Anon.
>> No. 3893
Someone needs to draw a boxing kangaroo punching Spy in the face. Now.
>> No. 3894
You make procrastinating on homework into the wee hours of the night worth it... thank you.
>> No. 3895
You make procrastinating on homework into the wee hours of the night worth it... thank you.
>> No. 3926
You guys, I can't leave you alone for very long can I? Haha, all the guesses made me giggle. But really? How would he get a koala out there? I don't think his mum would send it to him. Although that would be amusing. The kangaroo idea was funny I had to admit, definitely brought a smile to my face.

Anyway, on to the story and reveal
thanks again to i eat paste for beta

Part III

Looking back and forth between the bed and Sniper, it was remarkable how much Spy resembled a fish at the moment; eyes wide with confusion and mouth agape. Sniper tried to suppress a grin. Here Spy was, always prepared with a quick wit and sharp tongue, but now there weren't words in any language that could help him.

Nestled now in the comforter on the bed was a small cat. And despite the fallen lamp which had caused the noise from before, the feline seemed quite content to dissociate itself with the object. Instead the animal had chosen to occupy itself with grooming, occasionally glancing up at the two men now standing at the doorway.

Spy could only stand and watch it as the feeling of uncertainty was setting in. Not only had he been he wrong, /unbelievably wrong/, but now he had to face Sniper and...apologize. This was the one thing he was never good at. Sure he could try to brush this off and not admit defeat, but he knew that would only make things exponentially worse in the end. If it were anyone else he wouldn't care but not with this man, lest the nagging guilt would eat away at him.

Turning to face the Australian, Spy couldn't quite look him in the eye. And what made it worse was the small grin that worked its way onto Sniper's face. Oddly enough Spy would have preferred him to be angry, hurt, or at least disgusted with the assassin's actions. But no. The marksman was grinning at him.


"So," Sniper decided to break the silence, humor growing ever more present in his voice. "Wot'd you think was going to be in here? Or should I say 'who'?"


"Oh, not up for talking now?" Stepping closer to Spy, the Aussie dipped his head down a bit to force the man to look him in the eye. "Did you really think there'd be someone in here?"


"Non, I---I was not sure what to expect." Damn those eyes, Spy cursed under his breath.

"Oh good. Guess I can tell Scout to quit hiding in the closet now."

Well that definitely got Spy to look at him, Sniper grinned. The look on the assassin's face was priceless but settled as he caught on to the joke.

"Oh I am sure 'e is quite 'appy in zere, mon cher." Spy couldn't help but feel the corner of his mouth turn up to grin.

Now with the uncomfortable feeling in the air slowly dissipating, Spy studied the cat a bit more now. It was small but not 'kitten' small, so it must be at least a year or so old. The fur had a cool grey color to it, with little patches of white around the eyes, mouth, feet and chest. It looked a little emaciated and unkempt, most definitely a stray Spy mused. He noticed one of the creature's front paws was bandaged. He also had the slight feeling the cat was glaring at him with its blue eyes, but shook it off.

"So, what's ze story with zat one?"

"Oh, roight. Well, after losing few nights ago, I swore I heard a sound coming from under the van. I went to look and sure enough who do I find but this lil bloke. He was quite the mess first I saw him, took a bit of coaxing to get him out too. Put up a bit of a fight but eventually I got him to come out."

"Ah, so zose scratch marks..."

"No, those were from Scout." A short laugh escaped Sniper even as Spy playfully punched him in the side. "Ow-- yes, those were from him. He hated the bath I tried to give him, but the mud had to come off or else it would've matted his coat."

Glancing at the fur, Spy had to give Sniper some credit. It looked clean; such irony for a man who pissed in jars and whose camper was a complete mess at times. Spy still tried to hide those jars every now and then but the sharpshooter insisted he needed them for work.

"So, 'ow long til it is healed?"

"Mm, I reckon a couple days. He wasn't in too bad a state when I found him, just mostly hungry and cold. A cut on his paw but that should heal alright."

"Good," Spy replied but the look on the marksman's face made him feel uneasy. Surely the man wouldn't....no, he wouldn't.

"You named eet, didn't you?" Even though he knew glaring at the man would not sway the answer in the slightest, Spy couldn't help but do so.

Shrugging, Sniper glanced at the floor before answering. "Well, I had to call him something now, didn't I?"

"Ugh." The Frenchman sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You name eet and you will get attached to eet, mon ami."

"I don't see the harm," The grin on Sniper's face had started to form as he glanced at the cat. "He's kinda cute."

And on cue, the cat glanced up at Sniper, appearing to have understood the man. Its tail started to move back and forth, as if waiting for the man to continue to praise it.

"...Fine. What is eet?" Spy knew he'd regret asking, as the grin on the Aussie's face seemed to widen.



"....You did not just say zat."

Had this been any other time, Spy would have liked the smile now gracing the Australian's face. It made him look younger, slightly devilish. Like a schoolboy who got away with cutting off the pigtails of the girl in front of him. But now, Sniper grinning from ear to ear made a tempting target for Spy to wipe right off his face. With his fist.

"You. Did. Not."

"Aw come on mate, it's just a name." Obviously pleased with his choice, Sniper chuckled at his ability to rile Spy up a bit. "Besides, he kinda looks like--"

"Non! Not another word!" As if it wasn't bad enough that Sniper had tried to hide it, he had the audacity to compare it to Spy. How dare he compare such a filthy beast to such a refined person such as himself, the Frenchman thought angrily.

And then it dawned on him.

"Zat is why you did not want me to find out." Spy pointed a finger at the man, poking at him roughly in the chest. "You got attached and were worried I would make you get rid of eet!"

"Wot, like you're doing now?" A pained expression now replacing the merriment Sniper had just a moment ago.

A pang of guilt hit Spy, catching him off guard. Sure he wanted the cat gone, but the marksman didn't have to be so blunt about it.

"Wot'd you expect me to do? Leave him out in the cold? I mean, look at him. How could you say no to a face like that?"

"You will if you wish to continue to see my face, monsieur."

Never before had Spy regretted his choice of words, but there's a first for everything he guessed, as evident by the cold expression now coming from the man in front of him. He knew he'd have to eat those words to get back in Sniper's good graces but his pride just wouldn't let him do it. Not after everything that had just happened. No, he'd have to keep a stiff upper lip. Try to at least retain some dignity.

"Well then, I guess I don't want to disturb you any longer." Dead-set on not backing down, Sniper glared at the assassin. The sharpshooter sure knew how to be imposing when he wanted to, using the small height difference to his advantage. "Bit of a walk back to base and I'm sure you're getting tired. G'night."

With neither man willing to back down, stubborn to a fault, Spy curtly bid his companion good night and stalked out of the camper.


It wasn't fair, Spy brooded as he lay on his bed back at base. The covers itchy and cold only made him stew even more. That creature was taking Spy's spot while he was currently in the proverbial doghouse. That filthy thing, in the nice, warm bed Spy should have been in by now. Probably cozied up to Sniper at the moment. The sudden image infuriated the assassin, knowing full well it should have been him there and not in the cot he now resided in. Alone.

Stupid Sniper. Stupid pride.

Stupid fucking cat.

Angrily he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The events of the past few days running through his mind kept him awake as he replayed it over and again. He had thoroughly embarrassed himself. Not only by worrying if Sniper had bed another man but to then be proven way off base in his accusations. His professional pride had taken a hit from this; what good of a Spy was he if he had botched up something as trivial as this?

But now Spy had another goal, one to rectify this situation. Now feeling the pull of sleep overcome him, he had one thought on his mind.

Get rid of that /thing/.


Over the next couple of days, Spy made sure to give Sniper a wide berth, both on and off the field. He didn't visit the camper just yet, it was too soon his gut told him. Instead, Spy focused more on the battles at hand. His spare time, normally spent with Sniper, was now used to revisit failed plans, how to correct them, and how to infiltrate the enemies' ranks more successfully. The fights themselves proved to be more enjoyable. He was glad for respawn, because it allowed him to vent his anger out on the REDs over and over again. Now concentrated purely on the war, not to mention rattling the REDs with his more aggressive behavior, it was easy to turn the tides to BLU's favor.

At the end of the day's fight, the team had earned themselves their first win in quite some time. In honor of their achievements, Soldier canceled their normal post-war meeting and insisted they bask in the glory of their success. After the team finished with their dinners, Demo broke out the liquor and was no sooner passed out over a crate. Others were cheerfully engaged in conversation, reminiscing over some of the day's key points. Spy carefully made his way past the drunken group. The assassin smirked as he saw that Soldier had wrangled Scout into one of his ramblings of the 'good ol days of war' and glad it was not him instead.

Once outside the base, Spy felt pleased with the win but could not bring himself to enjoy it fully. He soon he felt the small sense of something nag at him. He refused to admit it but knew what it was; loneliness. Prior to his employment here Spy had been quite content with being alone, distancing himself from others. But now having gotten used to the feel of being around another and then to deny himself, Spy likened it to withdrawal. Like a habit, his visits with Sniper had become addictive. Spy hated habits; they were easily exploitable should someone discover he had one. But surely the Aussie would be over their argument by now, the assassin pondered. It wasn't like the man to hold grudges, that was Spy's job.

And there it was that Spy found himself standing outside the door to the Sniper's van. Knocking at the door, Spy briefly wondered if the marksman would even answer much less allow him entrance. But a few moments later Sniper appeared, opening the door to look down at his guest. Spy was glad the man didn't appear hostile, but was a little sad at the lack of welcome he was normally greeted with. This feeling quickly passed as the Australian stood back to allow him in.

After he discarded his shoes at the door, Spy joined Sniper into the kitchenette area of the van. He neatly folded his coat and placed it on the back of his chair; no need for unnecessary wrinkles, the Frenchman thought. Soon they busied themselves at the counter top as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Neither brought up the fight they had those few nights ago. Both men would rather forget about it than admit fault or accept blame. And so they each made their own drinks: tea for Spy, coffee for Sniper. They exchanged some of their usual conversation in the process: how was your day, get many kills, did you see when Soldier overshot his jump and landed in the moat? The usual.

Now with both seated at the table, Spy with his drink and Sniper picking up a magazine to read, the assassin allowed himself to relax. He was glad Sniper wasn't still mad at him, or at least didn't show it. It just wouldn't do to have the man mad at him. Spy figured if that were the case, he would probably have to do something embarrassing to win back Sniper's favor. Well, nothing /too/ embarrassing or he'd never live it down. With a small grin on Spy's face the only visible sign above the table, he moved his foot ever so gently against the marksman's underneath. He knew despite the man reading, the small smile that followed showed Sniper understood, who soon reciprocated a bit.

But of course this moment of happiness was short lived as a light tapping of glass caught Sniper's attention. Obviously happy at the intrusion, he set his magazine aside to open the window just enough for a certain cat to enter.

"Ah, good evening Spookie. How was your day?" Spy watched as Sniper had his one-sided conversation with the feline. "Caught anything to eat yet?"

All the cat did was stare before jumping down to land gracefully on the table. Spy was quick to move his cup, not wanting to have to make another should the creature tip it over. His attention then shifted from the cat to Sniper, who had by now wandered over to his pantry. In search for something the Frenchman could not tell what exactly. The smile that soon appeared meant he had found whatever he had been looking for, as the Aussie set down a small tin and reached for a can opener in the drawer nearby. As Sniper started to work the can, the cat seemed to instinctively know this was a good thing, sitting more alert watching Sniper's movements. Its tail the only outward sign of delight as it moved back and forth.

"It's funny," Sniper began, now having opened the tin and went to procure a plate to put the food on. Tuna, Spy could now see the label. "At first he wanted nothing to do with me, rather hide under the van. But now he keeps coming back, even after his foot's healed. Pretty bright too. It only took him a couple tries to figure out how to climb the crates outside to get to the window. I figure I should leave it open, seeing as how he likes to come and go as he pleases."

The cat seemed to respond to the Sniper's words, as it continued to watch the man bring the plate over to the table. Once the food was set down, it went straight to work devouring the meal.

"And you are just going to let eet eat at ze table?" Spy sneered, offended that the creature should share the same space as he.

"Why not? It's wot a table's for, roight?" A sigh of disgust was all the shooter got in reply as he sat down.

"You are letting eet eat your food?"

"I'm not worried; the supply train is due to arrive soon. Plus I'll be sure to request some proper cat food for him."

"And if eet is long gone by zen?" Spy asked, quick to notice Sniper's slight sad expression at the thought.

"...Well then, I guess you can always try and sneak the food into Scout's lunch." A wicked smile now spread on the Australian's face.

Spy watched as the feline polished off its meal, licking the plate clean. Indeed, the cat seemed less thin than it had been a couple days ago.

"By zis rate, eet is going to rob you blind."

"Haha, I doubt it." Sniper chuckled at the thought. "I have more tuna and after that some chicken. Can't feed it everything though, some of it's toxic to cats."

Suddenly more interested in the conversation, Spy leaned forward. Mustn't appear too suspicious now.

"Like what?" He asked nonchalantly, trying to sound as innocent as he could muster.

As Sniper opened his mouth to reply he quickly shut it, starting to eye the Frenchman. He knew better than to hand off important information to Spy, knowing the man would certainly make use of it. Instead he chose to focus his attention on Spookie, who now had finished his meal and was licking his paws clean. Gently picking up the cat to place in his lap, Sniper then grabbed hold of his magazine and resumed reading the article he hadn't finish earlier.

Sipping his tea, Spy could do nothing but glare at the man sitting across from him. Sniper had begun to absent-mindedly pet the cat with one hand while he flipped through his gun magazine with the other.

"Must you insist on keeping zat near 'ere?" Disgust evident on his face, Spy glared at the cat as if he wished it would burst into flames. "Eet will shed on ze table and I for one do enjoy checking my food for cat 'air."

Not even glance up from his reading, Sniper continued his petting. "He's not doing anything. 'Sides, he doesn't shed that much, I hardly have any on me."

Spy knew once the man started to read he'd become too engrossed in it to do much else. And that cat, it continued to irk the Frenchman. Just sitting there, with its smug little face thinking it owned everything. To make matters worse, it had begun to purr, eyes shut as it further nestled into the marksman's lap. Spy would show it who truly had control.

"I am tired." He stated, having finished his tea and setting his hands together patiently waiting for the man to respond.

"Well, go to bed." Another page flipped.

"I am not /zat/ tired, and besides ze bed will be cold." Spy refused to whine, a finger now slowly tracing the edge of his cup.

"There's more blankets under the bed, use those."

"Or you could join me, mon ami." Spy remarked as he leaned a bit more towards the man across from him.

"I'm not tired yet. Plus I'm still /trying/ reading. " He grumbled back, irritated at the incessant interruptions.

Spy knew he had to do something to get Sniper to pay attention to him.

"...I am wearing my garters, mon cher." Spy purred, rubbing his foot against Sniper under the table as if to drive the point home.

That earned him Sniper's full attention, Spy noticed with a smirk. He could just see the thoughts turning in the man's head, as Sniper bit his lower lip.

"Well...nothing wrong in calling it an early day I suppose. Early to bed, early to rise and all that." He closed his magazine and then carefully put the cat down on the chair as he got up. "Sorry, Spookie, time for me to hit the hay."

"Oh, eez zat what you are calling me now?" Spy coyly asked, feigning annoyance as he stood.

"Only if you beg me to." Sniper closed the gap between them, a hand ghosting up Spy's arm.

"You'll 'ave to work 'ard to make me beg, mon cher."

"Oh, I intend to." Voice low, now grabbing the Frenchman's tie as Sniper began to lead Spy to the bedroom.

"You know, zere is no battle tomorrow." Spy mischievously grinned, now merely inches between them, lips so close.

"Well then I guess sleeping in is an option." The Australian replied, looking forward to such an opportunity.

"Only sleeping?"

"We'll see."

Unmotivated to continue the banter back and forth, Spy moved forward for a kiss. He missed the sensation of stubble and lips against his own. Feeling the gesture returned, he parted his lips slightly, failing to hold back a moan as the he felt Sniper's hands tug at the hem of his shirt. Spy relished in the feeling of those calloused hands, warm to the touch as they now made their way up the assassin's back. It was amazing when he thought about it; such hands that held life and death over those in battle were now delicately fondling him now. /And only him/, Spy quickly reminded himself, pressing more closely to Sniper.

The bitter aftertaste of coffee, tea, and a faint hint of cigarettes intermingled as the two continued, deepening the kiss to explore. As tongues slid against one another in a playful game for dominance, Spy couldn't help but inwardly smile. The assassin let himself be guided, eyes shut as he concentrated on the feel of flesh against his lips. He had other things to busy himself with, like deftly removing Sniper's belt for instance.

Slowly they made their way across the van, careful not to trip on a stray box or empty jar. Sniper was having a tough time trying to not only navigate through his living-quarters backwards but to restrain himself as he could feel Spy's hands make their way to his zipper. He briefly wondered why he had not insisted on staying at the table and ravish Spy there. But Sniper quickly reminded himself the bed was much comfier and he didn't want to hear the Frenchman complain about the possibility of collapsing on the silverware again.

An abrupt stop indicated to Spy they had just now stumbled into the door-frame leading to the bedroom. He had honestly lost track of where they were in the van but he wasn't about to admit it. Breaking the kiss, Sniper turned to walk further into the bedroom, grin still intact. He went over to turn the small lamp on, giving Spy time to notice the cat had followed close behind, now seated in the doorway. As he looked down at the feline he couldn't help but feel as though it were glaring at him. But that didn't stop him from kicking at it, sending the creature scurrying off to the kitchen in search for safety. Spy smirked as he shut the door behind him.



(I totally blame my sex face meme for this btw. the eyes closed/koala pic lead me to draw the cat and then that's when the idea for this story came about)
>> No. 3928
Ahahah, yes! Spy vs. Spookie. I can't wait to see how this battle plays out.
>> No. 3930
I need to draw Spy and Spookie having a staredown. :|
>> No. 3931
i think i would die from glee if you did C:
>> No. 3932
cashew, out of my fucking head.
My friend and I had the same situation a few weeks ago in a RPG, Spy/Sniper, a cat and jealousy.

>> No. 3933
My god, Spy is such a girl. So needy, so easily made jealous! It's ridiculous. But I like this characterization. And the cat is a pretty cool addition, even if I still wish it was a koala ;_;

Here's to hoping the next addition finds its way to /afanfic/!
>> No. 3936
I lol'd at Spy's "it's the cat or me" bit. Hell, I lol'd at the whole thing. C:
>> No. 3937
Awww, Spy, don't be mean to the kitty!

They are treacherus and cunning creatures.

You could team up.
>> No. 3940
Oh god. I love this.

Also, Spy vs. Scout had me laughing.
>> No. 3943
I love how Spy gets outwitted by Sniper...so adorable.
Hmm, let's see how Spookie will DIE
>> No. 3954
I am on Spy's side here, I'll say it.

This is fun, very fun.
>> No. 3962
PFT... this is awesome... I love the cat's name.... but I hate cats D=

I think Spy should utilize the phrase "there's more than one way to skin a cat" and be creative about it. No telling what he can do with that knife when there's a little ball of fur between him and Sniper? Looking forward to the next installment.
>> No. 3968
I would probably like this alot more if that was a dog rather then a snooty cat (horrid things) but you certainly write very nice.
>> No. 3983
Cats are more like Spies than dogs <3 Sniper's more like a dog... HAY... can Spy find a puppy and name it Jarry or something?

(Sage for retardism.)
>> No. 3984
THIS. That actually sounds like it would be great! Then the puppy can help Spy by keeping the cat away or something! hehehe.
Sage because I'm not Cashew
>> No. 4022
Phew. Took me forever to read this (you know I spend all my time in afanfic), but I'm so glad I did. It's so cute, and it reminds me very much of my own life when my brother plays with my cat instead of me... *cough cough*

Here's to hoping for more.
>> No. 4067
Thanks again for all the comments you guys. Hope you enjoy this next part!

Part IV

As the sun began its ascent, its warm rays filtered in through the blinds. Spy roused from his deep sleep, cursing the fact his dreams were brought to an abrupt halt. Despite the fact that there were no fights planned for the day, he knew he could not stay in bed forever, no matter how nice it felt. He paused a bit before he pulled himself away from the warm body beside him, feeling Sniper shift at the loss of contact. Spy sat upright and stood, as he gave a stretch and started to scan the room for where his clothes had ended up. He normally wasn't one to throw his belongings around, preferring things to be neat and orderly. But on reflection he wasn't about to stop Sniper during the heat of the moment. As he looked himself over, he realized he still had his garters on but where--ah! Undergarments plucked from atop the dresser, he soon found each article one by one and dressed.

Deciding he was decent enough, Spy gave a glance behind him to see Sniper still asleep, mumbling a bit. Chuckling softly, the assassin mulled over the idea of perhaps setting a pot of coffee on. Not to be nice of course, he convinced himself, but also because he too needed something to help him wake up.

As he stood in the door-frame, a precursory look around the van yielded no sign of the cat. Spy thought that maybe it had run off, to hopefully get run over or eaten by another animal. Had he cared about it he would have looked more thoroughly but that was definitely not the case. Instead, Spy felt the all too familiar pang of craving for his cigarettes. Instinctively he reached a hand to his chest only to find it touching his vest. He had forgotten that he had placed his jacket on the back of the chair last night, now remembering as he made his way across the van. He went to reach for the jacket to satiate his fix but stopped short. A mix of horror and disgust were quickly replaced with utter loathing.

/Zat fucking cat/

Sniper woke with a start as he heard various objects being dropped and shoved aside haphazardly, not to mention the string of French that came with it. Having known Spy for this long, he judged it to be curses by the tone. Still quite out of it, he got to his feet and put on a pair of boxers he found on the floor. As he leaned against the door frame rubbing his eyes, he came across the puzzling sight of Spy; quite unlike the suave Frenchman to be crouching on all fours, wildly searching for something.

"Just--just wot are you doing, mate?" A yawn stifled his speech as he straightened and felt his back crack at the movements.

"ZAT--ZAT CREATURE! Where is eet?!"

Had Spy not had the murderous look about him the sharpshooter would have found this situation a lot more humorous. Instead he glanced around and, thankfully, did not see Spookie anywhere.

"Must've climbed out the window at some point. Probably hungry." Speaking of which, the marksman began to feel awfully hungry himself. A sudden craving for pancakes hit, but he somehow doubted he'd be able to convince Spy to make those little french ones he took a liking to.

"I am going to kill eet!" Spy's tone seemed to back this statement.

"No. You're not." Now it was Sniper's turn to glare.

The Frenchman made his way across the van only to hold up his jacket, shaking it at a very confused Sniper.

"Look at what eet 'as done to my suit!"

"Wot are you on about--"

"MY SUIT! Look!"

Sniper reached to grab hold of Spy's wrist, only now able to see what the man had been blathering about. Honestly, how did Spy expect him to see with all the waving about, Sniper thought. Upon close inspection, he could make out little fine hairs covering the suit jacket. Little grey hairs...

"Oh, so he shed a bit. No big deal." A soft laugh escaped him as he watched the assassin search for words.

"No---no big deal?!" Spy sputtered, unable to comprehend how the man could simply push this aside. "Eet is COVERED in zat 'orrible creature's fur! 'ow do you propose I fix zis?!"

"I'm sure I have a lint brush somewhere..." A glance around at the van, now messier than before due to the masked man's search, proved fruitless. "Or tape? I'm sure the Engineer has-"

"NON! I am not going to ask zat man!" The mere thought of asking Engineer for help of any kind made Spy's stomach churn. He would rather die first than even think about it, his pride told him.

"Well, then I guess I can't help you there."

Spy glanced down at his new 'fur' coat and sighed. He guessed he could always swipe a roll of tape when the Texan wasn't looking. But there was no way he could walk around base in that jacket in its current state. He made a mental note to stop by his room first to retrieve his spare jacket.

"...Fine." Spy turned and headed toward the door.

"Wot? Not gonna stay for breakfast?"

"Non. I 'ave lost my appetite." Spy looked at Sniper as he started to slip on his shoes. Left one on then the right---only to stop at the sudden feeling of something wet hit his sock.

Quickly retracting his foot, he reached down to pick up his shoe. He turned it over only to see a damp mass drop to the ground. A hairball. Shaking back his rage, Spy breathed out slowly and took his leave. Shoes in hand and furry jacket over his arm, he could have sworn he heard the Aussie erupt with laughter as the door shut behind him.


Now having obtained his other jacket as well as a second pair of shoes, Spy sauntered down the BLU hallway muttering curses under his breath. He decided a trip to Engineer's workshop was in order. He hoped that perhaps the Texan was outside or would be too busy with his papers to notice a certain assassin root through his cabinets for some tape. As Spy rounded the corner, he caught sight of a familiar baseball cap. Seeing the boy sit outside the shop by himself, Spy decided to take the opportunity to vent his frustration on the Boston youth a bit.

"And 'ow is ze lil slugger doing, hmm? Not quite looking yourself today. Perhaps a 'spy check' is in order, oui?" Balisong gracefully turning over his fingers, waiting for the go ahead.

"Aw fuck off... " Scout mumbled, head bent down, not even bothering to look up at the Frenchman.

Indeed, this was not like Scout at all. Normally the brat would be bouncing off the walls this time of day, especially on the days they had off. Without the battles, the boy was pent up with all that unused energy. It was a shame, Spy mused to himself, that they could not find some way to harness Scout's excess energy instead of letting it go to waste. A brief image of Scout in a hamster wheel powering the lights flicked through his mind before he pushed it aside and focused more on the boy sitting in front of him.

Not wanting to sound too concerned, Spy pocketed his knife, lit a cigarette, and leaned against the wall. Sensing the man was not going to leave, Scout sighed and looked up at his uninvited 'audience'. He held out his baseball for Spy to inspect its beaten appearance; its stitching pulled, the leather gnawed, and the yarn which covered the rubber center hanging out between the seams.

"Some mangy cat fucked up my baseball." While Spy was initially pleased to see the boy glum over it, he would not allow himself to be too happy considering the particular cat involved. "I saw it too! Wasn't able to catch it though, lil fucker's too sneaky."

"Ah." Spy feigned sympathy. Perhaps the brat could prove useful in some way, he mused. "Eet is a shame eet got away. I 'ave no doubt you would find way to make it regret doing so."

"Yea, I'd get 'im good! That's why I gots this!" The boy gleamed as he held up a roll of duct tape that had been in his pocket.

Wait--tape! Just what Spy needed. But how to get it from the simpleton without arousing suspicion. Spy took another drag, appearing uninterested.

"And just what do you intend to do with zat? Tape ze floor to slow eet down?" The assassin continued the conversation, hoping at some point to relieve the boy of his belonging.

"Pfft, fuck no. What are ya, some kinda moron? That wouldn't work." Though having made the comment, it was apparent Scout was now contemplating the plausibility of such an action.

"Well...?" Spy did not wish to stand around all day and wait for his answer.

"Nah, I figure, if I can catch the lil shitface, I can tape it." Sensing Spy not fully comprehending the idea, he continued. "See, back home, my one neighbor had like 15 of those fuckin' things. They would keep us up all night screechin' and shit. Smelled too. Old lady was fuckin' nuts. Anyhoo, my brothas and I would wait til she left to go shop, play bingo or I dunno, old people shit. But we'd sneak over there and grab some cats and tape the sides of 'em."

Scout rolled his eyes as Spy still stood there, unsure of what the boy was implying.

"Ya see, you tape the sides and soon they're all walking funny. Like they're drunk and shit. We'd do it all the time; it don't hurt tha bastards, but it's funny as hell."

Fighting back the urge to insult the boy, Spy had to hand it to him. While the boy was nothing but a constant nuisance for assassin, it seemed the street urchin proved somewhat useful for once. Not only would Spy gain the tape he needed with this plan but also a way to 'repay' the cat for the damage it had caused. And if the outcome proved humorous then it would be an added bonus. Spy felt a smile form on his face, thinking of that old saying: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Well not friend per-se, not even an /equal/, but it would do for now.

"Tell you what," Spy began, as he bent down to extend his hand. "I will 'elp you find zis cat and zen you can show me eff eet really works."

"Yea I--wait...why you helpin' me?" Scout shifted a tad, eyes narrowed as he looked at Spy. He still hadn't forgotten their last encounter. "I'd of thought you'd be a cat person or something."

"Non, not at all. I am just bored, as much as I 'ate to admit eet." In truth he was a bit bored but he didn't feel the need to explain everything to the boy.

A few more moments of uncertainty passed until Scout broke out in a devilish grin.


Several scratches and bites later, they had their very own taped cat. They both sat on the couch in the rec room watching their new 'show' develop. At some point Demo and Pyro had joined them. Spy could not remember exactly when, but he chalked that up to Demo having shared his booze with them all. So here it was that four grown men found themselves laughing like loons, staring at a cat that walked funny. Well, three men and a brat, Spy corrected himself. And Pyro was still the sober one!

The laughter died down a tad, just enough for the firebug to mumble something from his seat on the floor. Spy was too drunk to understand him but apparently Scout got the gist of it as he seemed to grin even more.

"OHohoho, man that's perfect! Fuckin-A'! 'Kay, I'll be right--right back!" A stumble or two and off the boy went, like there was fire at his heels.

Spy resumed his watch of the cat, chuckling at the sight of its stumbling, desperate attempts to free itself of the adhesive. Over the course of time they had moved the tape from its back, to its feet, and finally to its side. Scout had been right; it was funny. Spy would have continued to watch if it weren't for the fact Sniper happened to stroll by the doorway. As if sensing salvation, the cat let out a pleading mewl leading the sharpshooter to turn heel and walk into the room.

If Spy hadn't been as drunk, he guessed now should have been the time to cloak but the look on the Aussie was quite amusing to his buzzed mind. Disgust and anger were quick to show as Sniper strode over and picked up the cat gently, slowly working the tape off much to the dismayed groans of his teammates. Cat in one hand, kukri in the other, the sharpshooter stood before the now quiet group of drunks. Spy could tell Sniper was trying to find the right words through his anger before addressing them. The marksman looked between the three, but the Frenchman knew he was receiving the most attention.

"Roight, now just what the bloody HELL do you all think you're doing?!"

A brief moment of silence before Demo attempted to speak.

"Oy, dun worry lad. It's jus' a wee bit a' fun."

"Fun?! It don't look like no 'fun' to me, mate." That kukri was getting pretty close, Spy thought as he eyed Sniper's grip.

"It's fine, now ain' it? 'Sides, it weren' like we were gonna do anae harm to the creature." Demo tried to his best to pacify Sniper, as if to convince the man to lower his weapon.

"I don't care /what/ you intended to do. I find one of you blokes after my cat again, I'll --"

And it was at that time Scout made his triumphant return, bouncing into the room cocky as ever.


"'Kay, I got tha string, now gimme the firecrack----ers..." The boy looked from the stern Aussie to the three scolded men, unsure of what was going on. "What's uh---what's up? ...Oh! You here ta help, Snipes? Awesome! You can hold it while I tie its tail."

"No one's tying anything, kid. Just what do you think you're going to do to my cat?" A low growl came from Sniper as Scout started to draw near.

"...Y-your cat? Ain't nobody said..." A quick glance at the kukri, which was now dangerously close to his face, to the other men on the couch. But not one came to his aide. "...you got a cat?"

"I found him and treated him, so yea. He's mine. Why, you got a problem with that?"

A goofy grin made its way to Scout's face, body starting to shake with laughter. Spy wasn't sure if it was the alcohol in the boy's system or not, but then again this was Scout.

"What are ya, some kinda Aquaman of land animals or something?"

"No, but if I hear you've been messing with him again, I'll be sure to find other uses for those comics I know you have stashed under your bed!"

"Whoa, man! It ain't all my fault! Spy's tha one who caught him!" Scout quick on defense as he pointed an accusing finger at the Frenchman.

Sniper turned to glare at Spy who proceed to sink into the cushions. Damn the beer, the assassin knew he should have cloaked. But right now that venomous look could only mean one thing; Spy was once again in the doghouse.

But at least he had his tape.

>> No. 4071
Hahahaha, oh dear. Spy should've known better. And poor Spookie! (Though I couldn't help but laugh at Scout's story about him and his brothers.)
>> No. 4072
Oh spy, you silly man. This latest update is pretty good, but there are a few grammatical mistakes that you ought to watch out for in the future, little things that you need to look for scrupulously during editing, lest they pass under your radar. Is that true, about taping up a cat to destabilize its movements?
>> No. 4086
did i catch a "if i see that fucking cat one moar time" joke in there, or am i crazy?
>> No. 4088
Oh man, I can't believe I've forgotten to check up on this. Spy's hatred of the cat is hilarious! I can't wait to see how this develops and what Spy plans to do with that tape.
>> No. 4093
>>56 I knew I wasn't alone.

Seconding the question of "is it true?" Personally, I like cats way too much to try and tape one, but does that really work?
>> No. 4095
Oh my jeez... this was an awesome update!

>> No. 4097
this was the video that put the idea in my head. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5VRklgMjr3E
then I asked a friend who has cats if it was true(I am a dog person actually) and she agreed

he's gonna clean his suit with it C: but who knows, i may incorporate the tape again in some way, honhonhon
>> No. 4104
Great update, I was laughing like an idiot. Damn Sniper can be inadvertently mean sometimes when he sees Spy get riled up.
>> No. 4132
>> No. 4372
in the immortal and brilliant words of Jimmy Carr (and I can't believe this hasn't come up yet):

>> No. 5128
I eagerly await more adventures of tape and/or cat!
>> No. 5129
FUCK YEAH FIRST PAGE AGAIN i'm gonna read it all again!
>> No. 5130
ah, I need to update this. I'll be sure to have another before Christmas or die trying
>> No. 5131
BEFORE CHRISTMAS? oh cashew i think i love you
>> No. 5183
I am dancing in my seat!
>> No. 5453
so yea...no update before christmas sadly, other things got in the way. sorry about that. but I'm working on it and hopefully if all goes well, I'm shooting for one before new year's :D
hope everyone had a great holiday!
sage for nothin of real importance, haha
>> No. 5500
Normally I love cats. But THIS cat.... THIS cat I HATE.

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