Oh, hai guys! This will be my first FF attempted in yeaaars, so please bear with me. I don't know where my old account went. Hmm. BUT- now I'm here, and I bring forth this story to you, the beautiful men and women of FanFiction. I feed off reviews, so drop me a lil' somethin' if you think this is worth continuing. Rated Mature for alcohol usage, swearing, violence, and -yes- some very sexy sexiness later on. Deal with it. I don't own these characters except for my OC, Valve does! I'm a broke college student and I don't own a damn thing. Thanks guys. Enjoy :3

EDITED:: This chapter has been updated, I've corrected a few errors and rearranged a few things that may not have previously made sense.

It was hot. Really, really hot. I sat on a plastic airport bench, hundreds of people passing all around me, creating a busy hum that seemed to squeeze my head when coupled with the heat. I was no longer nervous, that's for sure. I didn't have the luxury to sit & worry. I could only imagine the different methods in which I was going to cool down as soon as I was dropped off. I could only hope this wasn't the heat I'd have to be working in. There has to be something morally wrong with making employees work in this shit, completely cruel. Then again, I didn't have much of a choice. Beggars can't be choosers.

To be honest, I didn't really know exactly what I was supposed to be expecting here. I was simply told by a somewhat nervous-sounding woman that one of the agents from the company bearing the name "Reliable Excavative Demolition", who employed me, would be here to pick me up, at some point in the afternoon, and I have been baking for about an hour in the merciless sunlight. My panama was most likely leaving an unsightly tan-line across my face, and every bit of me was coated in sweat.

Yet, I somehow still managed to tell myself, "I've felt worse conditions." Whether that was true or not is questionable at this point.

I had a brand-spanking-new pair of aviators on that I picked up in Spain before my departure. They did not make me look Spanish. They did however permit me to watch those around me without their being aware. Call it nosy or creepy, but it satisfied me, recognizing the movement and tendencies of my surroundings. It's a habit by now, and I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or not.

People are curious. I catch the most unexpected things and various opportune moments which do not pertain to me in the slightest manner. It's a good thing to possess those mannerisms as a sniper, right? You have to recognize any slight inconsistencies in order to survive, taking note of off-behavior or lingering stares.

I pulled my panama off my head and fanned my face with it, pulling my braid over my shoulder to give my back a little more air through my sweat-soaked shirt. Cursing myself for not changing out of my boots beforehand, I shifted uncomfortably, the plastic seat squealing briefly. Fucking airports and their cheap hospitality. The dumpster behind me wreaked of spoiled food and moldy cardboard. My fingers tugged absently at a few uneven strands of hair pulled behind my ear. They required I provide a lock of hair when I was going through the application process. There was no interview, no requirement to speak to the person in charge, nothing. It was curious to an extent.

I suddenly noticed a rumbling, rather large van approaching the pick-up lane in front of me. "RED" adorned the side of the vehicle, spelled in cursive hand, a little bomb embellishing the background. I casually glanced at it through the shield of my shades and observed the stocky man in goggles that occupied the driver's seat. He searched back and forth along the port, eyes as concealed as mine, and I considered it for a moment before standing.

He did not seem to notice me or anyone else in particular, so I walked towards the passenger side reluctantly. He then turned his head to me, and a hearty smile stretched across his face.

"You the lil' lady we're picking up for the new position?" His accent was southern & strong.

I tried to respond as warmly. "I believe so! Are you the agent from the company I was informed of?"

He patted the seat next to him. "I believe we have a match sweetheart, hop in & I'll take ya to the base."

The drive was about an hour straight from the airport, and the environment became more arid & bright as we traveled uphill for the most part. It wasn't that bad at all, really. I had a good chat with Engineer, the man who had picked me up. He explained the company requires you to go by your class-name only, for privacy purposes provided in our contracts. He built the turrets as defense against the opposing team, so therefore, he is Engineer.

"Yir a Sniper, right?", he asked matter-of-factly. "You'll be supportin' both offense & defense along with Medic and the spook, so you'll be recognized by that title."

I glanced at him briefly when he mentioned the "title"s of two teammate. This whole job description was already much more versatile than I had originally perceived. I was told I would be accompanied by eight other teammates, all male, in a large base loaded with weaponry and medical aid, practical needs and private bedrooms which were provided by a private manufacturer name Mann Co.,. The words guerillas, or mercenaries, or whatever it was I would be fighting with, were never mentioned by the nice lady on the phone. It didn't sound that bad when described to me by an anonymous man in Spain though.

He had heard what had happened to me months ago, insisting I work for this company if I didn't want my identity compromised and my talents to go to waste. I was so desperate, I would have accepted anything thrown at me at that point. My motivation was crushed and I was considered a huge threat to the public, threatening to stop my infant career and my personal life to a screeching halt. I was one of the best snipers I knew, but I was broken, and I took this job in hopes of being fixed. One reckless shot landed me on the road to nowhere. A story for another day.

The ride was pleasant though, and I found myself almost completely comfortable with Engineer, whom I had just met. Perhaps it was his accent, or that happy-go-lucky look that seemed so natural on his features. I was, however, not going to complain. I've worked with the lowest of the low, in the world's underbelly, and I didn't miss it a bit.

Engineer whistled loudly to the country station he had chosen over the roar of the wind. I found music like this twangy, and usually a little too depressing for my tastes, but I smiled lightly, gazing into the desert-like scenery, tension rolling off me in waves. It had been a while since I had gotten to enjoy riding in the passenger side of a moving vehicle. I 'd done a lot of walking for the past two years. And when the circumstances required it, some brisk running as well.

After what I guessed be around three or four songs, I turned to the man, speaking up. "So, what should I be expecting here?"

Not the most professional of attitudes, but I had a feeling he didn't mind a bit.

"Welp." He put one hand to his chin thoughtfully. "As far as yir position goes, I don't know the specifics, bein' I'm not a sharp-shooting kinda guy. You won't be doin' as much runnin' as the boys, but yir still an important player. We depend on you to watch our backs when possible."

I lowered my eyebrows. "I'm missing something here. We're in a warzone of some sort I assume?"

"You could say that. None of us really know what the purpose of this whole scheduled warfare thing is, besides to test out weaponry, but the pay is great and the respawn system is perdy fascinatin'!"

My eyebrows raised again. "We have a respawn?"

I have heard of such things on my travels and in my work, but had never seen one of these contraptions in person. A machine built to recognize the stamina and heart levels of a soldier, and teleport him back to safety. This was going to be an interesting experience.

"Yep! But don't go too confidant in it, all machinery has the potential ta' malfunction. We've seen it happen a couple a' times." His expression fell just the smallest bit.

I observed the side of his face and nodded silently, taking my eyes off him to focus on the dusty road instead. It seemed as though I had touched on something sensitive and so I kept my mouth shut for the remainder of the ride.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally noticed the small silhouette of what appeared to be a small town or some other organized structure perched among a few rocky hills. I pointed forward, not meaning to sound as excited as I did. "Is that it?"

"Sure is! Welcome to yir new home little lady!"

I popped my head out the window and lifted my aviators up. It was secluded in the midst of a ridge boulder-laden plains, the sunlight beaming directly above, massive and orange, swimming in heat waves. I loved the sight of it so far, anyway. It'd be nice to get away from the miserable existence of walking through traffic.

As it drew closer, I pulled my luggage from the back and held it between my legs, tapping on the door quietly, but nervously.

"The boys'll be in the cafeteria. They'll wanna get a look 'atcha."

I peered at him from the corner of my eye. A look at me. I nodded passively and waved it off to myself. I tended to over-think things. However, I'd also had my fair share of being victimized to the probing eyes of indecent men in my days of being a loner. I prayed this wouldn't be another one of those situations. Being female wasn't necessarily an advantage in all situations.

He pulled behind a large wooden tower and parked the van under what appeared to be a half-crafted carport. I squeezed out the passenger side door and tugged my luggage along the narrow walkway as best I could. Engineer hurried around and grabbed my things for me.

"No, I can-"

"It's fine miss, just treating a lady right. Don't expect me ta be watchin' you in battle though!" He nodded with a half-smile before turning around to lead me to one of the entrances.

"Don't worry, I'm used to that by now." I chuckled. Teaching in my shirt pocket, I pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "I'm just gonna smoke this and I'll be right in"

Engineer chuckled to himself before turning and giving me a knowing look. "Honey, the spook's already stunk th' place up."

I hesitated and then stuck the cigarette between my lips and nodded, following him through the wooden doorway. We were standing in a concrete foyer and then proceeded through one of the two doors on the opposing wall. I instantly recognized the smell of cigarettes and a faint trace of liquor as he guided me past what could possibly be called a kitchen. As I passed, I glimpsed a man with a fire-proof suit on standing in front of the range. I was opening my mouth to ask Engineer about it when he cut me off and I'd realized we were now in the cafeteria.

"Boys, meet your new Sniper!" He patted my head. I might have took it insultingly if I hadn't gotten to know his temperament a little.

There were eight pairs of questioning eyes on me, including Engineers. I took what I was seeing pretty slowly, processing the drastically different men one by one, pausing on the large one for just a second before smiling as best I could, trying to seem somewhat friendly.

"Another GIRL?!" A younger man whined, standing up. He reminded me of my younger brother, though his size suggested he may have been only couple years under me.

My head tilted a little as I tried to understand what the problem was. I was stuck between being confused, and being insulted.

"Sniper is so tiny! She is like little baby kitten!" The large man boomed in a thick Russian accent. My obvious first impression was either his English was broken, or he was not the brightest of men. However, I looked down at myself as though he had just informed me of something I hadn't realized. Pulling my sunglasses off, I hung them on my shirt, but remained still. I tended to be a little awkward when anxious.

"Hey, Helen said she'd fit the job good, that's all I know! Take it easy on 'er!" Engineer responded holding his hands up.

I shifted reluctantly, oblivious as to who 'Helen' was, and instead took to studying the rest of the room. There was a black man sitting at a small table by the window, wavering, apparently drunk. He had one eye covered with an eye-patch and my subconscious wanted me to believe he were some sort of pirate, though I seriously doubted this. There were three other men sitting at the table directly in front of me, one had a strong jaw and an American flag pin on his shirt collar, another had sleek dark hair and glasses. The guy in the middle wore a mask over his head and a dark crimson waistcoat, with his white dress shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His shoulders were broad and his eyes were half-lidded, a light shade of blue tinged his irises. He stared at me in a manner I couldn't quite place. I was either boring to him, or he was trying to figure something out to himself. I swallowed loudly and looked at the engineer.

"Aye, the lass is quiet! Come have a few shots with meh, you'll forget you were never here before!" The drunk man exclaimed in a Scottish accent, almost toppling out of his chair.

I smiled halfheartedly. "I may take you up on that, but not now I'm afraid."

"Bloody right you will!" He hiccupped.

Engineer sighed with a hint of second-hand embarrassment and motioned for me to sit. He took my things to my room, I assumed, as I sat awkwardly at the table across from the large Russian man. Was I being abandoned, or encouraged to fraternize? I wasn't sure, but sitting to myself while half the room still stared at me was disheartening in a way.

"What's your title?" I asked the man across from me, scooting forward as if to hide from the staring.

"I am Heavy! I carry big guns and defend all my little teammates! You help Heavy protect!" He responded enthusiastically, nailing the table with his fist. The corner of my mouth twitched as I strained to hold back a laugh. So far, everyone seemed pretty confidant. That was good, because I'll admit I've been one to get a big head at times.

The boy who had exclaimed about my gender only moments ago, darted next to me and sat pressed against my side as though there was no more room on the bench. Again, I bit my tongue and put forth the most genuine smile I could, wondering if he was like this all the time.

"Nah, she's gonna be all into her makeup and hair an shit. Remembah the last one? It'd all be meltin' across the side of her face before ceasefire." He had a condescending smile glued to his face.

"HEY! Sniper puts hair in nice-looking braid, unlike you, little Scout baby!" Heavy boomed, making both the boy and I flinch.

I wrenched a smile. "Thank you, Heavy. That's…sweet."

I don't really know what to tell you. I had never dealt with such upfront and loud coworkers, therefore, I didn't really know how to respond to the situation.

I jumped when the man in the fireproof suit I had glimpsed earlier approached me, placing a large plate of food on the table. He muffled something unintelligible and waited for me to take it. I pulled the plate toward me and nodded to him, unsure of what to say back. Scout began to chatter into my ear about the baseball game he's just watched as I ate what I was given gratefully. I listened to he and Heavy argue for quite some time over

This didn't seem too shabby so far. We'll see how tomorrow goes.

Look, down there! v Leave me something in that thur' box! :3