Team fortress 2: world of magic and random crossovers XD

More lessons XD

3rd person

Though it was only ten in the morning, one wouldn't be able to tell by looking outside. The sky was a dark, gloomy shade of gray, illuminated with the occasional flash of lightning. Raindrops the size of marbles pelted down on the city, with citizens skittering about with umbrellas or newspapers atop their heads, trying desperately to shield themselves.

Luckily for them, they don't have to do anything ourdoors other than the fact that crystal and spy cannot sneak in anymore ice cream or other snacks. The day was spent indoors, improving Pyro's posture, vernacular, and dialect. But after about two hours of work, little progress was being made on her voice. Long gone was Spy's suit jacket, along with most of his patience.

"Please listen, mademoiselle! You must pronounce all of your words to their fullest. The Rs, the INGs...everything. Once again: The tire..." "The ty...err...rrr..." pyro tried.

"Is," spy assured.

"Is..."

"Soft."

"Sohhhft. Sohft. Soft."

The Pyro concentrated very hard. "'The ti...re...is s...oh...ft. THE TIRE IS SOFT! TIRE, SOFT, THE TIRE'S SOFT!" Pyro screamed, finally reaching a breakthrough. She ran her fingers through her hair and kept yelling this newly-learned phrase."Dieu merci!" Spy shouted over Pyro's exclamations. He sighed in relief; they were finally getting somewhere.

"I can't believe it! The tire's soft! It's-" she paniced

"Try to speak in this manner more often. It will help you adjust." Spy added

"Okay, okay, I'll try. But oh God, I'm just plotzing right now! I can't believe I finally got it!" She exclaimed.

"About that..." Spy hesitated, "try to refrain from using...Yiddish word substitutions. People will think you belong at a nursing home in Boca Raton, playing Bingo." He muttered.

"Feh, that's farkakte!" Pyro said with a wave of dismissal. Spy threw his hands up, at a loss."All right, fine, fine. You want classy and demure, you've got it," she assured.

"I sure hope so, it's been three days. However, you have made substantial progress, I must say."

"All thanks to you," said Pyro with a bashful, genuine grin. Speaking "properly" in a believable manner on a consistent basis took quite a bit of conscious effort, but it could be managed for the sake of the mission. On a celebratory and playful whim, she deftly lifted one Spy's suspender straps, and let it go.

At the resounding SNAP of the elastic against his chest, and at the sight of the Spy's face (an extremely rare look of utter shock), Pyro found it very difficult to titter in a ladylike manner. She wanted nothing more than to let out loud, raucous laughter, but powered through and ended up covering her mouth with both hands, giggling away madly.

After quickly recovering from the initial surprise of the gesture, the Spy began...was that...was he...laughing? He very seldom smiled at all, let alone laughed-he was a spy, for one, and was an unflappable professional first and foremost. But the biggest reason for repressing his laughter? He laughed loudly and snorted hopelessly while doing so, and trying to cease his laughter made him laugh even more. Hearing her uptight and straight-laced teammate with such an out-of-place laugh came as a colossal shock to Pyro. Upon hearing it, all of her learned manners went out the window and her eyes became wide enough to see the whites around her brown irises. She began laughing, wailing, then wheezing so hard that she became silent, with tears of mirth and mascara running down her face.

After a good several minutes of merriment, it was time to get back to business. The pair collected themselves, and the Spy cleared his throat as he put his jacket back on. He lit another cigarette, breathed out a puff of smoke, and locked eyes with his colleague.

"Never do that again."

"Alright, alright, you don't have to tell me twice," said Pyro, "So! What do we work on next?"

"Well...can you dance?"