Again, this is what happens when I can't sleep and have too many ideas. Couldn't quite decide when it came to how to frame the Doublecross side of things when Spy got pulled out to Coldfront, so... here is the first of three different takes, covering three slightly different times/places. ~~~SNIPER~~~ Saturday I'm in the bar first thing, waiting. Not so different from any Saturday, except for when the door opens and someone else steps in. The suit's the same, the mask's the same, the height and the build are both the same, but there's something in the way he holds himself, and the way his eyes don't stop on me when he scans the bar, the way he moves, and... I don't know what to think, just know how I feel, scared as hell and angry, and there's no one else about the place to stop me from launching myself at the impostor. "Where is he? What did you do with him, ya bastard?" I slam the new spy against the wall, my hands fisted in his suit jacket, and for a moment there's cold fear in his eyes, which is satisfying, and confusion, which is not. "WELL?" "Get your hands off me, you oaf, I do not even know what you are talking about!" He shoves at me, but I keep my hold on him, and when one of his lapels threatens to tear, he stops trying to push me back. "Where is he?" "You..." He straightens. "You are the lover?" I step back from him. He gets to fix his fancy jacket and I... I feel worse than scared. "I don't know what you're talking about." "IDIOT!" The RED Spy appears behind me, and where he came from I couldn't say, could've sworn he wasn't in the bar, but by the time he reaches us, we don't exactly need separating. "Don't-- Don't--" "Your teammate did not hurt me." The BLU Spy smiles, too warmly, and RED's Spy struggles to compose himself. "There is a room above the bar." He finally says, and the breath he lets out sounds shakier than he lets himself look. "I am going there now. And if there are matters to discuss, I suggest anyone who needs to discuss them follow me." The new BLU Spy disappears, and I take it we both follow RED's up. "Didn't think the upstairs was open to customers." I say. "It is not, unless that customer knows enough about the intimate affairs of the owner. As it is there are no things here which are closed to me." He lets the three of us-- I'm still assuming the three of us-- into the room. It's spartan, but cozy. It certainly doesn't lack anything. "Somebody tell me what the hell is going on here." I demand, as he locks the door. The shades draw themselves down over the window before the BLU Spy appears there, and once he's visible, the two of them are... I cough, and they pull back from each other. The BLU Spy seems embarrassed over it, the RED merely put out by my interrupting. "It isn't as though you can pretend to be offended." "I'll be offended as I like, until I get some damn answers." I remind him. "He is at Coldfront. I am sorry--" "Not too sorry." The RED Spy places a hand on the man's waist. "Still, I am sorry. I assume it is your fault." He addresses me. "The two of you were seen." It feels like a punch to the gut. We'd known it was a possibility, with that Scout coming out of nowhere when he had, but... "He's at Coldfront?" "They traded half the teams about, between here and there." "But he's all right?" "He was, and he should be. It is not so terrible." His eyes stray back over to RED's Spy. "Having a warm hat makes all the difference." "I don't... I don't understand... He's all right?" "They cannot afford to terminate him, they felt the move was the wisest option. Your own opposite number was quite vocal about the infraction, but he felt that as long as you were separated from each other..." I nod. "I... Thanks. Thanks. Sorry about-- Sorry. I'm... I should go." The RED Spy nods, the BLU Spy disappears, and I unlock the door and stagger downstairs. "What can I get you?" The barman asks, as I fall against the bar. "Everything." I shake my head. He pours something. Scotch, maybe. I swallow it down and don't even taste it, but it burns and that grounds me, wakes me up. In the long run, it's probably not the best idea, to keep up like this. To end up like the RED Spy had been at first. I'm dizzy on the walk out to my van, and sick to my stomach. I'm not sure how much is the news and how much is the liquor, but the guilt I feel is roiling awful, bringing the bile up in my throat. Of course it's my fault we were caught. I mean, look at the two of the spies up over the bar, nobody's caught them. Well, guess my own Spy figured them out somehow, but they've never been caught, not the way we were. We were caught because I got... I got too comfortable, and I'm no good at subterfuge, couldn't keep a secret to save my life, and... I flop down onto the bed and don't bother locking the camper door behind me. Not like I'm with anyone... I haven't got anything of his... I should have... I should have asked, for anything. Something to hold onto and remember him by, but I thought we had time before we might be separated again. I should have asked him for something our last night out at Teufort, I'd still have it now... I think about driving out to the wilderness someplace, but lifting my head is a chore and I remember how little I'd bothered with breakfast before racing out to the bar. Misery, alcohol, and a large vehicle, that's a winning combo... Sleep it off, then, and drive when I wake up. Go out into the... well, it's not the same as driving out in the desert, but there must be some camping ground in the woods that I can get to, spend the rest of the weekend without seeing another living soul. Where no one can see me. I mutter into my pillow lost and miserable, when the drink hits me before I can sleep, but I don't go anywhere, not like I can embarrass myself. When I wake up, I write him. Not that he'll even get it, for who knows how long, but there's no way to stop myself doing it. I must be the sorriest sack ever to crawl into the post office and ask to get a box set up, but I get an address and I get to send his letter out. And I know I'll only torture myself looking for a response even knowing he can't get his mail from Coldfront, but it doesn't matter. I wrote him, that... that has to be enough for now, it's all I can do.
yessssssssss Never ever ever stop having ideas, Anne. There is no such thing as you having too many ideas.
Wonder if the shell-shocked Spy will get some closure. or maybe that's for a different story.
Well, thanks! (Shell-shocked Spy is for a different story, which hopefully I'll find the time to write... everything's kind of vying for attention in my brain right now... this one is just the Sniper and the two spies, covering different parts of the story) ~~~JEAN~~~ When I am summoned to headquarters, without the rest of my team, I do worry. No reason is given to me until I arrive, of course I have worry. I hide it well, though. I hide it, and when I arrive, I am not the only Spy to have been summoned. Nor are spies the only class present, though there are more of us, and only one representative each from the other eight. When the girl comes to usher us into the meeting room, one of the spies is left behind, and everyone else is seated at a long table. At the table's head, the woman we know largely as the voice which guides us on the battlefield. At her right hand, the girl with the clipboard, at her left a nervous man in a severe black suit and a periwinkle blue tie. The woman has files spread out before her. The girl has her clipboard, the nervous man a small pad. "What is going on?" The Spy to my left-- sitting next to the girl-- speaks, and though his question is clearly meant for the woman, he does not look directly at her. None of the men seem to meet her eyes for very long. "One of your 'colleagues'," She looks around the table, and at least while her eyes are on me, I meet them. "One of your 'colleagues' has been breaking the rules. And once we have determined to what extent, we can make a decision about what to do with him." "I am already down two functioning men." The Spy at my left says. "If you cannot hire a replacement for him, then whatever punishment you decide on, you cannot fire him." "It's hardly your place to question the hiring and firing practices of your employers. But first, I think we should hear the evidence. I don't even know that the man is guilty of anything yet." "Oh, he's guilty, all right!" The Soldier thunders, leaping to his feet and shaking a fist in the air. "That queer sumbitch is guilty-- uh, begging your pardon, ma'am." There is a long pause where she merely smokes her cigarette, and then she nods. "Go on." "Well, he-- He's been sneaking around! We've all seen him, haven't we, men?" The team shifts nervously, almost as one. The Scout is the first to speak up. "I guess... I guess I-- Well, I didn't really see him do nothing," "Tell her what you did see." "I just saw the RED Sniper, like, on him. Maybe kissing or some shit, I don't know." The boy crosses his arms and stares hard at the corner of the room, his face flushing. "That's the only guy I know for sure's queer." "And like I said," The Sniper shrugs. "I saw that bastard giving our Spy a hand up to his nest. Got back to my spot after respawning and what do you think's the first thing I catch over there? Pretty suspicious behaviour even if they're not-- You don't pull your enemy up onto your deck to let him kill you, not unless you've got some kind of deal worked out." "Now," The Engineer has removed his hardhat, his grip on it unsteady. "Now I got to say, the boy does his job. I took the liberty of bringing the printout along, got a record of every kill and every loss for each man on this team, and since we been at Doublecross, he's killed that sniper couple-few times a week, every week." "Yeah, 'cause they got a deal!" "A deal that lets him kill one of the boys on RED regular-like? Mister, a deal like that I can live with." The Pyro says something which may be agreement, though I could not say. "Dammit, he's sleeping with the enemy!" The Soldier thunders, and I feel a twisting deep in my gut, even though I am not the accused. "Again, beg your pardon, Ma'am." "Quite all right. You said everyone has seen him?" "He sometimes sneaks about quite late." The Medic is blase. "I assumed insomnia, but there is no good reason for leaving the base during a weekday." "I thought he had a lady-friend." The Demoman shakes his head, until the Soldier elbows him sharply. "He and the RED sniper leave the bar sometimes. At the same time, I mean." "Same time don't mean together." The Engineer is firm. "If that was true, think where you'd be." "That's different!" The Soldier shouts. "He leaves with his own team, to get back to the base, he doesn't go-- go sneaking off, with some sniper!" "Begging my pardon?" The Sniper raises an eyebrow. Him, I already know I dislike. We had both been stationed at Granary before. Now only the Heavy has said nothing, and when everyone's eyes are on him, he shrugs as though the lifting of each shoulder is a great labour. "Spy is credit to team. Do not know about what he does with self, only know what I see on battlefield." "Exactly." The Engineer snaps his fingers. "You all remember that time he dove between both the heavies and right off the bridge holding the Intel and then made it to the train bridge underneath? We wouldn't have won that day if he hadn't been a team player, and that was some sacrifice." That... that is an impressive story. I may be no stranger to bravery, but some things are just insane. "Doesn't matter." The Soldier crosses his arms. "I will not have queers on my team." The Heavy stands, and he seems to fill his end of the room. "That is not point of trial. If he is friends with little RED coward, that is point of trial." "It's half the point! Do you want queers in the shower? Do any of you?!" "Spy does not shower with team." The Heavy crosses his own arms now, as he and the Soldier face off. "And I am not afraid of any man." "Yeah, you don't gotta be." The Scout laughs. "For now, we will transfer the man in question." The woman announces, and both the Heavy and the Soldier take their seats quickly. "That should put a rest to any problems. If it happens again, action may have to be taken, but for now, a simple separation should suffice." The Spy to my left lets out a sigh. I... I feel myself inflate. "I will change places!" I stand. She raises one eyebrow at me. "I assume you wanted another spy to take his place. I have been at Coldfront. It is frigid, far from civilization... I believe taking that post will be punishing enough for your transgressor. And I assure you, you will have no difficulties with me taking up with any snipers." "Very well." She nods to me. "Your things will be moved. Enjoy the warmer climes." "Merci beaucoup." I bow and take my seat. "I will NOT be transferring anyplace with that sneaky queer-- sneak!" The Soldier shouts. I smirk. What he does not know will not hurt anyone... if he is only trading one sneaky queer sneak for another. "Very well. It isn't really necessary to move the entire teams..." "I will go." The Heavy glares at the Soldier. "Coldfront? Sounds nice." The Medic shivers. "I would rather prefer Doublecross, myself." Odd. "Yeah, I'll stay." The Scout coughs. The Demoman nods. "No difference to me." "I'll go. Someone's got to keep an eye on him, I mean. See he doesn't do it again with someone else." The Sniper says, and I am relieved to hear it. I never liked him when we worked together at Granary, but now... now, the man makes me nervous, and I cannot say what the change is. "I'll go. We-- We work well enough together. And I work well enough with the Heavy here, too. Figure that counts for something when it comes to getting the job done, and heck, I wouldn't mind seeing the snow for a little bit." "Hudda!" The Pyro scoots nearer the Engineer. "Very well. Then you'll all be moved to your new-- or old-- bases of operation, and we'll keep records of behaviour as need be." We are dismissed and teleported off to our respective destinations. When Saturday morning comes, I catch a lift into town. Doublecross. I am so close... If I can find him in town... No sooner do I enter the local... watering hole, however, than I am being accosted. "Where is he?" The raving madman pushes me back into the wall by the door, absolutely ruining the lapels of my suit. "What did you do with him, ya bastard? WELL?" "Get your hands off me, you oaf, I do not even know what you are talking about!" I make an attempt at removing his hands from my person, but his grip is good and I would rather be held onto than tear my jacket. It is still reparable now, at least. "Where is he?" The man repeats, eyes wild, and I finally have enough distance, enough breathing room, to actually take him in as a human being with distinguishing features and not merely a threat and a lunatic composed of general shapes and indistinct colours. Of course. The RED Sniper. Well, of all the ways he could have greeted me, at least this is not the worst. "You... You are the lover?" That does what shoving could not, and he releases me and gives me my space. "I don't know what you're talking about." Behind him, there are feet on the stairs. Past his shoulder... past his shoulder I can see my own lover, moving quickly. "IDIOT!" His eyes are on his teammate as he runs down the steps and across the bar. "Don't-- Don't--" "Your teammate did not hurt me." I promise. He is exactly as I remember... of course he is, it has not been nearly so long as it has felt. A cool mask of professionalism struggling to wrap itself around a passion it can never keep quite in check... "There is a room above the bar." He has to look away from me, before he can speak. I can hear the tremor in his voice, hidden but never quite deeply enough... perhaps no one else can hear it, but I can. "I am going there now. And if there are matters to discuss, I suggest anyone who needs to discuss them follow me." I scan the bar, empty at this hour save for us, though the barman can be heard in the galley kitchen beyond, and I adjust my watch, and follow.
Wonder if Jean's going to find out about the RED Spy hitting the bottle in his absence. I mean come on, cooking sherry?
Heh... well, read on... (went ahead and titled this one as 'SPY' since his name hadn't come up previously... well, not previously in these fics, at least) ~~~SPY~~~ From the hallway over the bar, I can hear the Sniper shouting. Curious... if something has interrupted his rendezvous, I suppose it is my place to intercede, though. "I do not even know what you are talking about!" That... No. Still... "Where is he?" I double my speed. Jean? They have sent Jean in the other BLU spy's place? The next words to pass between them are too low for me to hear, but when I glimpse them between the banisters, that fool Sniper looks on the verge of violence. "IDIOT!" I get down the stairs and race towards them, my mind tripping over itself for an explanation it might be safe to give in public. "Don't-- Don't--" When I reach them, though, the Sniper has already released him, and Jean's smile is... is everything I have missed. "Your teammate did not hurt me." He smooths his blazer, the movement something I catch out of the corner of my vision, my focus on his eyes. It is something like what I imagine a man feels, after wandering the desert for days only to be caught in a sudden deluge. I cannot even speak until I have turned away, lest my tongue betray us both. "There is a room above the bar. I am going there now. And if there are matters to discuss, I suggest anyone who needs to discuss them follow me." I hear the tell-tale sound of a cloaking device being activated. The Sniper falls in line as well. "Didn't think the upstairs was open to customers." He says. "It is not, unless that customer knows enough about the intimate affairs of the owner. As it is there are no things here which are closed to me." I smirk. Reconnaissance for my own ends, at least, does not violate the terms of my contract. There is a hotel in the town, of course, but the barman has more secrets, and the more secrets my landlord wishes to keep, the less I am asked to pay. Besides... besides, there were days, at the beginning, when it was better, to be so close to the bar... Once we are all inside-- Jean's hand brushing against me in passing to signal me-- I see that the door is locked. "Somebody tell me what the hell is going on here." My teammate snaps. Jean draws the shade before he lets his cloak fall. I am at his side in seconds, my hands cradling his face, and my gloves and his mask are two layers more than I can bear between his skin and mine, but his mouth against mine is wonderful, and the little gasp of surprise he sucks from mine is something sweet... We are not alone, of course, and perhaps it is... insensitive, to say the least, but if our positions were reversed, could the Sniper have done differently? "It isn't as though you can pretend to be offended." I point out, in answer to his little 'ahem'. There is a soft blush creeping in at the edges of Jean's mask. I haven't seen him blush out of embarrassment since the first time I had him out of his balaclava... "I'll be offended as I like, until I get some damn answers." The Sniper glares at us both, his arms folded. "He is at Coldfront. I am sorry--" Jean begins. "Not too sorry." I cannot keep from touching him. Insensitive or not, I cannot seem to help myself. It is only a light touch, at least. "Still, I am sorry. I assume it is your fault. The two of you were seen." "He's at Coldfront?" The Sniper still looks lost, but... Well, as the man in question pointed out to me once, it is better knowing. "They traded half the teams about, between here and there." "But he's all right?" He insists, that wild lost look still there, and... and I can empathize. Yes, I can empathize. I went too long without even having a location, I can empathize. "He was, and he should be. It is not so terrible." Jean glances to me, barely smiling. "Having a warm hat makes all the difference." "I don't... I don't understand... He's all right?" "They cannot afford to terminate him, they felt the move was the wisest option. Your own opposite number was quite vocal about the infraction, but he felt that as long as you were separated from each other..." The terrible lostness finally lifts itself from him, though the loss remains, and he is awkward, half-graceless, in his exit. "I... Thanks. Thanks. Sorry about-- Sorry. I'm... I should go." I merely nod. During the week... During the week, if he wishes to talk, then I will listen. For now, perhaps, he would prefer to be alone, and either way, for now I cannot spare an ear for him, not for much longer. When the door is once more locked, this time with the Sniper on the other side, Jean returns to my arms, and kisses me fiercely. "I had to come." He whispers. "When I found out, that they needed to make the change, I had to come." "Good. You know how lost I am without you... You know... I cannot... I cannot lose you, you know..." "Shh... I know. Sang-froid was never your strongest suit, mon amour." "Sang-froid I have in spades, for my enemies. But even from the first, you... you were never that." I touch his cheek. When he leans back, there is in the curve of his mouth and the lift of one brow such a challenge... "Tesoro..." I work at getting his suit off. "Tell me how much you missed me..." "Immensely." He sighs. I strip away his balaclava and kiss across his cheeks. "You still look so young, you know." "Don't." He laughs and pulls me down with him to the narrow bed against the wall. "I am not that young." "With the mask gone, you look it." "Liar." "Never." I shake my head. He only laughs again. "Well, not to you." "I did miss you." He slides my own mask off, and runs his fingers through my hair. "I did. Luc... so much." "I got drunk, you know." I rest my head against his chest. "And I wrote terrible poems to you. I hope I had the presence of mind to find them all and burn them..." "Oh, no! You should give them to me." He is still laughing, just a little, his hands loosening my collar and slipping under, fingers stroking down my neck, to my upper back. "I want to read anything you wrote me." "No. No, they are too terrible. I was drunk." "Write me something when you are sober, then. And don't make me worry about what will happen to you the next time I have to go away." "They say you should never cook with wine you wouldn't drink." I nuzzle against him, until I can smell his skin and not only his cologne. "But... you cannot apply this logic in reverse." "Oh, Luc..." He sighs and strokes further down my back. "Drinking cooking sherry is like having a glass of wine throw up in your mouth." "You need me, don't you?" "That is what I have been trying to tell you." I lean up to kiss him. "You belong to me?" He touches my cheek. "Of course I do." "Then if I have to leave you again, try to take good care of what is mine. I would like to get you back in good working condition." "It was just once. I am sure... I am sure you will find me in perfect... working condition." His hand goes to my belt. "I will check on that, shall I?" "Please," I moan. One of his thighs is between mine, providing just enough pressure to tease me, to push back against. I have nothing... I have not exactly prepared my little bolthole here for such an eventuality. By the time I was able to establish myself here, I knew that he was not coming, or thought I knew... If he asked to, I would let him fuck me with nothing more than some spit on his hand. If he asked me to, maybe... maybe I would say yes to anything. He does not ask, not for that. Instead, we wind up naked and blindly thrusting against each other, with his fingers tight in my hair and his teeth pulling at my bottom lip. The muscles in my legs are still twitchy and trembling, after I've come across his belly and rolled off of him, won't still until he throws one of his legs across both of mine, until he provides the warm weight on my chest to keep me from floating off. He lights my cigarette, and with his head on my shoulder, he whispers snatches of poetry to me, and when I answer back in kind, I have nothing memorized, but I am happy to invent new ones, to the best of my sober ability.
Question: What is Rashomon? I love your ‘universe’ for Team Fortress so much.
Rashomon is a famous movie that tells the same story from the POV of several different characters.
Anne... You have them named "Jean" and "Luc". Forgive me if the Trekkie in me is having a fit of happy giggles right now. Dunno if that's even what you intended, dunno if you even get the reference. But LOL!!! Also, POOR SNIPER. But it is nice to see the spies get some snuggle time.
Anne, god, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
Thank you, everyone. >>9 And yes. It is my nerdly homage. I guess it was quite a long time ago, but when I first made my roster o' spies, they were almost all given meaningful names, and when two of them were intended to be a couple, I had to go for it.
Jean and Luc have really grown on me, it's great to see them reunited. They love each other just as passionately as Spy and Sniper do, but still their interactions are different enough to keep them unique. Very very nice.