TF2 Sniper x Reader

Chapter 8: Ranger

Your POV

I opened my eyes, the sunlight filtering in through the window by my bed. I roll over, looking at the clock: 5 am, the time I usually wake up. Still in my clothes from yesterday, I get up and change into my new uniform. I was required to wear a pair of blue jeans and a red v-neck, but I was allowed to add anything I wanted. I decided on my usual jacket and hiking boots, and tied my hair into a ponytail.

I open my door as quietly as I can, holding my boots in my hand so I don't make any noise while walking. I head down to the kitchen and grab myself an apple. After lacing up my boots, I decide to walk around the base a bit. I'm sure one of the guys would give me a tour if I asked, but I'm more comfortable exploring by myself.

It was a big base, but I walk fast, so I got through it in about an hour, mapping routes in my head as I went. I was about to head inside, when I see something out of the corner of my eye.

Parked about half a mile away is Sniper's camper van. Just as I was about to look away, the door opened, the tall aussie stepping out. He was wearing his uniform, minus vest, hat, and glasses. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. I didn't know he smoked. Makes sense though, keeps the nerves steady. He turns his head from side to side, popping it, and notices me. He smiles, drops the cig on the floor, and walks over to me.

"Hello sheila. Wot are you doin' up?" I shrug.
"I'm always up this early. Internal clock and all that. You?" He smiles, a canine fang protruding.
"Internal clock and all that." I laughed.
"Well played."
"Thank you. You drink coffee?"
"Take it or leave it."
"Whoi don't ya join me for a cup? Be noice ta have some company for once. Besoides tha Spook." He mumbled this last part under his breath.
"Sure."

We walked back to his van, talking about coffee on the way. He opened the door and walked inside, beckoning me to follow. "Sorry 'bout tha mess, only visitor Oi get is the Spook."
"It's fine, I've seen worse." I looked around, and it really wasn't that bad. He had a small kitchen-ish area and a fouton that looked like it could fit two people. ;)
"Here ya go sheila." He handed me a mug of black coffee, the one in his hand reading '#1 Sniper'.

Then I notice something behind him. "Is that a saxophone?" He looked confused for a second, turning around to see where I was pointing. When he turned back around, he was smiling.
"Sure is sheila."
"You play?" He smirked, setting his coffee down, and grabbed the instrument, slinging it over his body.

I gasped, "Sonny Rollins! 'Round Midnight', right?" He stopped playing, pure glee written on his face.
"Yeah!" he said, setting the golden instrument down carefully.
"Oi'll admit sheila, you didn't stroike me as tha jazz type."
"I'm full of surprises." That smirk of his grew, and I have to admit, it made him look even more attractive.
"Example?" I saw his bow sitting in the corner, along with some arrows. I drank the last of my coffee, and took it, running out of his van.
"Oy! What'ya think you're doin?!"

I'd stopped just outside, knocking an arrow, and he stopped behind me. "See that can of Bonk! over there?" He looked around, and sure enough, about 20 feet away was a can of Scout's beloved energy drink,
"Yeah, wot about-"

Before he could finish, I loosed the arrow, and it hit the can: right in the middle of the 'o'.
"Holey dooley! You're quite tha shot (y/n)."
"Thanks."
"You'd make a damn good Sniper."
"I guess so, but I already have a class."
"Oh?" I turned to him, handing him his bow, and holding out my hand. He slung the bow over his shoulder and shook my hand.

"I'm the Ranger."