1 . Name: ThatDumbWurm @ 2011-07-13 18:10

So, apparently I started writing this a year ago. Found it again. Should I continue?

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In which “RED Spy and BLU Scout agree to work together to do something nice for Scout Ma's birthday.”
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A baseball hurled through the window during breakfast on your day off was hardly the most subtle method by which one may capture someone’s attention, but the Spy could hardly deny its efficacy.

RED’s Scout was the first to reach for the projectile, eager to claim it for himself. Before he could pick it up however, he noticed that someone had written a date between the stitches. Puzzled, he read it aloud.

“What the hell happens on June 14th?”

Spy recognized the date immediately, but it took a moment for the meaning of the ball itself to register, and when it did, Spy found that he was slightly offended by the unspoken insinuation that he needed a reminder.

“FLAG DAY!” came the response from across the room. “IT IS EXACTLY ONE MONTH AWAY AND YOU WILL PAY YOUR RESPECTS WHEN THAT DAY COMES, SOLDIER.”

Spy managed to pocket the ball and excused himself, leaving the boy to complain, hypocritically, about his rival’s immaturity and question the need for an entire day devoted to a piece of cloth; the original cause for the conversation now forgotten.

Spy found the BLU Scout several hours later in his usual hiding spot: Sheltering from the midday sun under the bridge spanning a dried out riverbed that lay just east of their twin bases. He seemed agitated, and Spy amused himself for several minutes by simply watching the boy, before making his presence known. Scout didn’t even flinch when Spy de-cloaked behind him, instead choosing to simply glance back out of the corner of his eye, just in time to catch the ball that had been tossed his way.

“I wondered when you were finally going to show up.”

The Frenchman said nothing. The two of them had an uneasy agreement that they would at least attempt to be civil towards each other, for her sake, but this was the first time Scout had actually initiated contact.

Scout’s embarrassment was obvious as he ran a hand through his hair. It was a tell, something the boy did when he was nervous, and the RED Spy had been able to use it to his advantage on more than one occasion.

“Cigarette?”

Scout looked disgusted.

“Then I suggest you stop wasting my time and start talking.”

Scout sighed and held up eight fingers.

“The triplets haven’t come through for much since the ungrateful bastards found their birth mom. Johnny’s in Chicago, Gabe’s in Califonia, Robin is somewhere in Canada and Ellis hasn’t even sent a freaking card since he was in Louisiana or some shit.”

Scout dropped a finger with each name until only one remained. The conversation had suddenly become far more casual than Spy had expected.

“You are... using their names.”

Scout was unfazed. He crossed his arms and fell backwards to lean against one of the bridge’s supporting columns.

“Don’t even start with me, creep. Knowing you, ya probably know more about my brothers than I do at this point. The point IS, no one but me can do nothin’.”

“And you need my help.”

Scout exhaled, dropping his head ever so slightly as an affirmative. It was hard enough to acknowledge that fact to himself, there was no way in hell he was going to be able to say it out loud.