Pairing: RED Sniper/BLU Spy Summary: Holidays can bring everybody together, even REDs and BLUs. A/N: Ohaithar TF2chan. I’ve spent maybe a few years just lurking around and I figured it was time I contributed (always been a bit scared to post, frankly). Not sure my drawfaggotry would be appreciated so you have my writefaggotry instead. If people like it I’ll continue. And try to ignore the lametastic title. Afanfic for later plans of smut. Anyhow, enjoy! === Utah. He was somewhere in Utah. He’d been with RED for eight months now; was only supposed to be three. Sniper could barely remember what month it even was (December, maybe, based on the weather as of late). For all he knew, he’d been here for years. Not that the blazing sun didn’t have anything to do with the lapse in memory, but that was beside the point. He was trapped. He, and the rest of his teammates, were all trapped. And for what? Some godforsaken plot of land? Was that even the real reason? Not a soul could tell you the answer to that one. After three months time had passed, and still nobody was allowed to go home, Sniper gave up on the anti-social behavior he’d developed. He’d spent months on his own just fine before, but he concluded he was in for the long haul. May as well make a friend or two out of it. At first, nobody wanted anything to do with Sniper, and he couldn’t blame them for feeling that way. He hadn’t exactly been warm and fuzzy in the past. But eventually the comments of “stupid bushman†and “filthy jar hoarder†quieted, and the RED was able to find some human comfort. Talking to the others, he’d found that they’d all been duped, and they were all tired. Nobody wanted to fight in a war that would never end. And really, how does one win a war where nobody ever really dies? What a miserable existence. Sniper had developed a particular fondness for Medic. Apparently he’d been a pediatrician before signing on for the war, and he seemed to have retained his kind demeanor. He never found himself dreading going in for a regular check up or some stitches; Medic was always careful, always gentle. “M’not a five-year-old mate,†he remembered saying on his first visit. “Just because you are not fife does not mean I cannot treat you vith kindness.†Sniper never mentioned it again after that. Medic became somebody he could confide in; anybody could confide in, for that matter. Sniper considered him to be sort of the father figure of the team, or maybe mother. A parental influence of some sorts, nonetheless. And in a way, it scared him. Things he’d kept hidden for years now were beginning to peek out. He’d never let anybody know; Sniper barely let himself know. It almost disgusted him. He’d just have to do what he always did and ignore it. Yeah... === Sniper’s ponderings as to whether or not it was December were relieved when Solider woke the entire team up early one morning. He was screaming something about Christmas; rather, that it was Christmas Eve. “GET IN THE DEBREIFING ROOM YOU MAGGOTS! WE’VE GOT HOLIDAY PLANS TO MAKE!†he shouted, banging on every door he found and physically dragging anybody who protested out of bed. Sniper couldn’t say he much appreciated the 6am wake up call to begin with, but faceplanting the floor as a result of said 6am wake up call? Blimey… “Th’ hell’re you on about now?†he hissed, grabbing his sunglasses from the nightstand. He wished it hadn’t been too damn cold to sleep in his van last night. “It’s Christmas Eve MAGGOT and I’ll be damned to hell if we don’t celebrate! It’s inhuman… It’s UN-AMERICAN!†Sniper snorted at that last one. Un-American, eh? With six team members from six different countries? Ah well… May as well put up with it. Not like he didn’t celebrate Christmas anyhow. === The plan had become that the REDs and BLUs would hold a temporary ceasefire. At least, Soldier wanted to organize a ceasefire. A job that he didn’t seem up to; he almost seemed a bit nervous to go over to BLU and just knock on their door. So Solider asked for volunteers; volunteers who, by the way, were true fighters if they went. Almost a minute of silence passed before Sniper sighed and agreed to go. He’d already become sociable amongst his team, couldn’t hurt to get friendly with the blokes he fought with every day. Maybe. He went back to his room to get properly dressed. Sniper hardly dared to step outside in just his jeans. One would think a desert would maybe be lukewarm in the winter, but no. It was cold as balls outside and cloudy. He didn’t doubt that it might snow at some point. Snow in the desert. What a laugh. A true clown that weather was, he decided. As he took his first step into the brisk morning air he was thankful he had a jacket. Fat lot of good a vest does for you when it’s below freezing. Sniper slowly made his way across the little wooden bridge over the now-frozen stream that seemed to act as a natural divider between the two bases. He wondered if it was possible to skate on it. Not like you’d risk drowning if the ice broke, at least. Finally he walked up to the steel doors that acted as entry into the BLU base. Sniper debated just going in for a moment, but decided getting stabbed, shot, or otherwise as a result of surprise on the BLUs’ part was not appealing. Knocking would work, he figured. The sound of his knuckles rapping on the metal seemed to echo in the deathly silence present outside. Kind of creepy, but whatever. The door finally creaked open slightly, and Sniper couldn’t help but overhear a few low swears. “Fils de pute… What do you want?†Of all the BLUs, Sniper had been expecting the Spy the least. It was interesting to see any of the classes without their full gear, and Spies especially. Who in their right bloody minds wore three-piece suits in 100 degree weather anyways? Although, he supposed, they were much more comfortable in the current temperature. Spy was not, to get back on track, in his regular clothing. He wore his white dress shirt, gloves (were they glued to his hands? Blimey…), balaclava (really now, was that comfortable?), and boxers. Sensible sleepwear (still though, why the gloves?) but certainly not so sensible when you’re standing by an open door. “Uh, g’day… Was wonderin’ if I could talk to ya’ for a bit, wanted ta’ make a proposal ‘n behalf a RED.†God this was awkward. Passing a message on to somebody who killed you on a regular basis, was clearly very pissed off at being woken up, and damn he had nice legs for a twiggy bastard… Wait, ignore that last part. It never happened; just block it out of your mind. The BLU Spy stared at him blankly for a moment before grumbling about coming inside. Sniper obliged, gladly. Even if it was technically enemy territory, the heated base was much more welcoming than the bitter environment outside. “What is zis proposal you ‘ave, hmm?†the BLU finally asked, leading him down the hall to what appeared to be a lounge, “Clearly it is urgent if you feel ze need to wake me up at zis hour.†“Eh, well. S’not exactly urgent, per se. Kinda just wanted Solider off my back…†The Spy looked completely unenthused. He grabbed a carton of cigarettes from the table, lighting one and taking a long drag. C’mon Sniper, out with it. You have a job to do. “Right, well. We were thinkin’ that maybe, seein’ as how it’s a holiday tomorra’, we’d hold off on fightin’ a while.†Spy raised a brow at this. He probably thought Sniper was completely off his rocker. He blew out a puff of smoke before replying with, “And why, pray tell, is a ceasefire necessary?†“Well, as Soldier reckons, it’s right ‘Un-American’ if we don’t,†he replied, smiling a bit. It was a bit uncanny to see Spy have a similar reaction; he even laughed a bit. “Un-American, ‘e says? Well, I’d ‘ate to be ZAT…†he said dryly, eyes finally flicking up to meet the Aussie’s. “Why do you bother with zose glasses? It is not zat bright in 'ere.†Oh don’t start you crazy… crazy! “Why ya bother with those gloves?†Sniper retorted; sounded almost childish, but it was far too early in the day for him to care. The smile that emerged on the BLU’s face was almost unnerving. It wasn’t sinister or scary, it was a genuine display of amusement. It looked good on him, even with what little you could see of his face. Sniper eyed him as the gloves were finally removed and promptly dropped on the table. “Well, ze gloves are off, as zey say. Now it is your turn. Glasses off.†The RED sighed heavily and removed them, folding them up and looking the BLU in the eyes. Hopefully the hat didn’t have to come off too; it was a bit of a security blanket, if you will. “Well. You are easy on ze eyes, for a filthy bushman.†Sniper was sure his face turned a little pink from that. “And you’re not so bad for a backstabbin’ frog.†Spy grinned before saying, “I shall bring zis proposal to my teammates… I’m sure our Soldier will be as eccentric as yours.†“Prolly kick himself for not thinkin’ a’ it himself, eh?†The BLU nodded in agreement, walking back to the front door to let the Sniper back outside. The Australian dragged his feet a bit as they walked back; he rather enjoyed the Spy’s company, and it was bloody cold out. Leaving the building just seemed like a bad idea. “I look forward to talking with you more, Monsieur Sniper. Try not to freeze on your way back.†Sniper felt a light pat on his back, and that alone seemed to make him feel warmer. Not in the way you’re thinking, filthy perverts… Just the friendliness of the action. He felt happy that he’d made a new friend. Gah, what was he, five? No. The RED said his goodbye before nearly running back to his base. He wanted to be back inside as quick as possible. === Soldier seemed extremely impressed with Sniper, slapping him on the back and putting his arm around his shoulders. He was beginning to miss the kinder touch from the opposing Spy already. “Excellent work, private! You’ve earned yourself some breakfast,†he said gruffly, shoving the Australian in the direction of the hall that lead towards the kitchen. Sniper supposed that going back to sleep wasn’t such a good idea anymore. At least he’d be tired enough to fall asleep quickly tonight. Breakfast, on the other hand… It smelled like those pancakes that Medic liked to make. Of course the pediatrician would know how to make pancakes, and when he saw them, tasted them, damn was he good at it. “Herr Sniper, I haff to thank you for taking one for the team, as they say,†said Medic, bringing Sniper back into reality, “Ve were all a bit frightened to meet any of the BLUs.†“Nah, weren’t too bad… BLUs ain’t so different from us. Seem like a decent group a’ fellows,†he said, “Kinda lookin’ forward ta’ meetin’ more a’ them.†The German nodded in agreement before returning his attention to the stove. === It was about noon before there was a knock on RED’s door; a reply from the enemy, as Sniper figured it. He answered, unable to hold back a smile when he noticed that the BLU Spy from earlier was acting as messenger. “Well, nice ta’ see ya again,†he said, somewhat sad that Spy was fully dressed now. “Our Soldier did in fact agree it would be ‘Un-American’ to fight on ze ‘oliday. In fact, ‘e zinks we should celebrate toge’zer. A nice dinner and such.†Well that sounded pleasant. Sniper couldn’t even recall a time when there’d been a big dinner of any sort at RED, and a little party with the BLUs also seemed like it could be fun. Maybe the Soldiers weren’t such nuts after all. “Don’t know how you can say no ta’ that. Can’t say any a’ the rest of us would disagree.†Spy smiled again, and damn did he want to see more of that smile. It was beautiful. But Sniper would never admit that aloud, no. Blokes like him ended up in ditches with their dicks torn off. No, he’d never give off any signs. Never show any feelings. Because feeling the way he did was dangerous. A sense of misery washed over him. “Well I suppose we will ‘ave to make preparations,†the BLU said, twiddling his thumbs awkwardly (and damn, he had to admit it was kinda cute), “I shall see you tomorrow?†“It’s a deal,†Sniper replied, offering a hand to shake. It was a natural friendly gesture amongst men. Not only that, but it was a good excuse to hold the Spy’s hand for a minute, even if he couldn’t really feel anything on account of the gloves. Still though, it felt nice. More quick exchanges of goodbye before running off to tell the rest of his team the news. Scout practically leapt up, shouting about his Ma’s recipe for sugar cookies, Demo going off about making eggnog, and even Engie mentioned learning how to make a good old fashioned Christmas dinner with his family. Sniper began to wonder how he could contribute. Maybe see if he could get out in the desert and shoot a few rabbits to eat. The RED had the strange feeling that this entire ordeal, while completely silly, was going to be fun. === And thus we have part 1 end! Concrits and comments are all welcome, this being my first TF2 fic. Kinda iffy on everybody’s accents, so suggestions on that would be especially cool. If y’all like this enough I’ll probably continue. Anyhow. Cheers. (P.S. I abuse italics)