In Need of Assistance? (TF2)

Seven: The Fury of the Bushman

"See, that wasn't so bad," Medic whispers to me as I keep my back turned to Sniper who's redressing. I flatten my lips and furrow my eyebrows at him. He's a doctor, I'm not. Something tells me he continually forgets that a lot of people aren't doctors. "I'll be back. Don't go anywhere." He pats my back and disappears behind the partition again, whirring, a mechanical flush, and a flash of light indicate something is amiss. I step behind the separator and see nothing more than a small contraption slowing down its spin cycle on the ground.

"It's a teleporter," Sniper tells. "I don't blame you, bet you've never seen one before."

"I-I thought they only existed in movies."

"That's the truckie for you. Mate's always inventing something new and unusual. Medic's like that, too. Bloke does more meddling with God's work than anything else. May the Queen save him," he mutters.

I really have no other choice than to believe him, considering that these guys are also nonchalant about drones just buzzing around. It's safe to look at Sniper again as he sits on Medic's stool fully-clothed. He replaces his sunglasses and flips on his hat, leaning his back against Medic's desk with his arms crossed. He watches me come back around to where my files are. Organizing all of these are going to be a pain, but it must be done. Sniper's hand grabs my wrist when I try to pick up the file on the table behind him, his grip slowly releasing when I rotate my wrist a few times. We both squint at each other. "Any reason in particular why I'm being antagonized now?"

He wheels around to follow behind me as I step over to where my tornado of a folder sits. "I've been thinking--"

"Sounds horrible. Maybe you should tell Medic about that when he gets back," I sarcastically quip.

"I've been puzzling some things together," he rephrases. "Don't you think it convenient that we get suspicious activity a few days after you arrive?"

I knit my brows together in confusion. "You guys are mercenaries. I thought 'suspicious activity' was just your average Tuesday given that you guys have intelligence."

He lifts an eyebrow. "How'd you know about the intelligence?"

"It's my job to know?" I retort. "And Miss Pauling ran me through some basics off the books. I think now would be a good time to mention that she and I have lived together for six years as roommates. That's how I got a job with the Administrator so quickly. Because Miss Pauling and I are friends."

His nose flares as he sniffs. "Spy has been in deep covers longer than that."

"Are you accusing me of being a spy?" I assume. Medic teleports back in.

"There's no way Miss Fredrickson is a spy, Sniper. You're being dramatic," Medic defends me as he steps out into view. Archimedes Two flies over to him and the air from his flapping whisks some of my papers away. I pick them up. "Why would Miss Pauling assign a spy to work with us?"

"Miss Pauling ain't a perfect Sheila. Clearly this one here has gotten you fooled just the same." Medic gives an exaggerated sigh with an eye roll to match. Sniper persists. "Remember when the bloody cameras were on the fritz?"

"Yes, Sniper. The engineer fixed the faulty wiring."

"The motion sensor triggers all over the fort?"

"Ja, Sniper. The engineer fixed the faulty wiring."

"How about th--"

"The engineer fixed the faulty wiring," Medic snarls in a low tone. "I think you are being rather unfair in assuming our new contractor is a spy. Perhaps one of our friends is the perpetrator and they slipped in with the expectation of Miss Fredrickson's arrival."