The rounds had been long ended, it was the time where most would’ve been having nightmares or dreamless from exhaustion though you two were hanging out in their bed, simply laying there taking in eachother’s presence.

Chance glanced over to you, laying next to them with that damned neutral expression, sure he loved looking at your face though a smile would be gorgeous on you.

Though after a few seconds of this thought process he eventually thought of something, shifting closer to your body and grabbing you by the waist suddenly, pulling you closer. It was a gamble but he loved risks, and well, gambling.

You tensed at the sudden physical contact though eventually eased into it, you didn’t know if it was the end of day-tired feeling of your guard being down or just because you’d held it in for so long but you chuckled. Actually smiled a small amount and chuckled.

He paused, you smiled. A genuine expression of comfort. And Telamon did you look gorgeous when you did, they just stared at you in stunned excitement.

They held you limply then suddenly squeezed the air out of you, going to leave kisses along your face.

All it took was one incident, one attack mid-night, for the administrator to hire a 10th class, but this one was… different. They would only be on duty at night, to make sure the mercenaries got their full hours of rest, (Y/n) had been hired to keep guard of the base in case of another surprise attack. She didn’t meet the others in a formal manner, either. There was no need, teamwork wouldn’t be necessary, but of course they had been informed of a new class joining to watch over the night. None of them had a clue that the new class was a woman. 

One more night for her, one more night to watch over these dumbasses. She was a skilled assassin, with experience in many different combat styles, and used a variety of weapons. Tonight, she was holding a simple Heckler & Koch machine pistol, and walking around the dark, empty hallways of the RED base. A few times she’d shot an enemy Scout trying to sneak in, but aside from that, nothing interesting.

Every mercenary slept peacefully in their respective rooms, except Spy. He was wide awake. Cloak and standing in a corner near her, his eyes glued to her like a puppy seeing treats. He wasn’t one to openly admit it, but he had gotten very interested in her these past few weeks. Whenever she was sitting on the rooftop, legs hanging over the edge as she drank a soda can or read a comic book, he was sitting beside her, cloaked. He’d walk by her side when she patrolled the outsides of the base, listening to her humming, or the conversations she had with herself. The thing is, he was a bit too interested. He was self-aware of this pathetic behavior, but after a month or two, he admitted to the mirror that he was attracted. Attracted to the only woman in the base, in miles maybe. Attracted to someone he wasn’t supposed to know. The worst part? He couldn’t stop following her. He forced Engineer to upgrade his cloak device to make it last for hours, just so he could stay the whole night by her side.

Every breath she took, and every move she made. Every bond she broke. Every step she took, he was watching her. Every single day, and every word she said. Every game she played. Every night she stayed, he was watching her.

He was growing a bit obsessive, but he just wanted to learn how to approach her, he didn’t want to miss a chance with someone he’s genuinely attracted to, he was nervous, and Spy doesn’t get nervous.

Every move she made, and every vow she broke. Every smile she faked. Every claim she staked, he was watching her.

Tonight again was no different. 

“Hmm, why do I keep finding these…” (Y/n) asked to herself, picking up a lollipop wrap. Pyro, Spy rolled his eyes as he replied in silence. But you wouldn’t know, you don’t know him. He added, watching as she took a seat near the window, gun resting beside her. 

He stepped closer, his steps invisible. Once he stood beside her, he sat down as well, their thighs dangerously close. He was always careful, every time he almost got caught, he learned to not repeat mistakes. Even with his calculated moves and fast reflexes, fate had a different plan. 

She set the soda can down, and moved her arm to set her palm against the concrete, when she felt it press against something warm, something soft, she froze. Her other hand immediately reached for the gun.

“If you’re one of my own, I suggest you explain yourself or I’m blowing your brains out.” She said, her tone cold and composed. Spy uncloaked, he had no alternative.

“Bonjour, m–mademoiselle.” He greeted, still strongly aware of her palm against his thigh. He grinned, hiding the blush on his cheeks.

“You must be Spy.” She spoke, removing her hand from him.

“Oui, that is me.” He glanced down at her hand, missing her touch. 

“How long have you been here?” She asked, now turning to face him. 

“Enough time for me to understand the twitch of your leg whenever you cross them.” He tried to flirt, but now sounded like a stalker.

“Oh?” She raised a brow. “Well, I assume you think I’m interesting enough to observe?” “That you are.” He said openly, crossing his arms. “You should fight by my side, an assassin your quality is truly as rare as a blue moon.”

“Thank you, but my contract only says nightshifts.” She said, glancing up at the dark sky. “It’d be lovely to have you around in battle, Mon Chéri.” He wondered, almost too open.

“It’s not the first time you’ve been this close to me, is it Frenchie? You sound awfully comfortable with me.” She grinned, turning to face him. He looked away, rolling his eyes to mask just how true her words were.

“Would it be so awful if you were right, dear (Y/n)?” His tone was surprisingly soft, it could’ve been mistaken by a plea.

“I’ve always felt a pair of eyes on me, though I suspected it’d be the doctor’s.”

He frowned at that. “Mon Dieu, I hope not.” 

She chuckled, and then stood up. “Well,” she began, “Would you look at that, sunrise’s arriving.” She picked up her bag.

“(Y/n…)” He repeated her name, his eyes roaming around her features trying to memorize her.

“My cue to leave.” She turned around, but a hand on her wrist spun her back in, and pulled her close to him. “Spy—” “Please, meet me here tonight, same time.” His words stopped her, and she nodded.

“Same spot, same time.” She agreed, and he leaned in, planting a goodbye kiss on her cheek before cloaking. “Damn Frenchie…” She grunted affectionately, and made her way to her dorm, yawning.

Little did she know, a cloaked Spy was walking right next to her towards her room.

. . .

‘Mel! Answer the door for fucks sake.’ She wobbled towards the insistent voice. Her brain unable to process who’s voice it was. But it did make her feel better. Reassuring and comforting. Warmth, not the fiery fever that had her wishing for oblivion but the deeper type. Familiar. Safe.

‘Mel!’ With severe lack of co-ordination she finally managed to get the door open. Frank Langdon stormed into her apartment. At least it was a Frank shaped blur. She tried to get the large shape into focus.

‘God you look like hell.’ Mel realised that she didn’t know where her glasses were. Frank was a fast moving blur and she oscillated wildly. ‘Woah woah careful.’ She was guided carefully to the couch. Nausea, fatigue and weakness fought for dominance. The sensation of another person touching her was muted by the muffled feeling in her head. Even if it was just Frank.

Cool plastic was placed in her hands. Her head lolled to her chest. ‘Glasses. I’m going to get you some water. Maybe even an IV drip.’ It took concentrated effort to get her glasses on. Co-ordination compromised severely.

‘What is going on?’