Team fortress 2: world of magic and random crossovers XD

Obviously obvious impossible lol

3rd person

BZZZZT! The abrupt trill of the alarm clock jarred the woman sprawled on the bed out of her peaceful slumber. Another day, another run through the stylists.

"My, your hair was so damaged!" remarked the hairdresser, scrubbing Pyro's head in the running sink. "What did you even do to it?"

"Been burned a lot, fried a lot. I'm a pyrotechnician, what do you expect?" she shrugged. She never had to worry about her hair when she had her gas mask on. It wasn't like anyone saw it.

Not before long, however, the time was almost ten and Pyro was going down an elevator alongside Spy, ready to face the crowd.

"Are you ready?" he asked, glancing at the woman next to him.

"Hey, if I can slaughter a team of men and become a dainty little lady in the same week, I think I can do this, right? Bring it on," she sniffed.

"Good luck."

Once again, the doors opened and Spy led her to a large conference room with a long table already set up. Pyro sat and Spy stood next to her, and as reporters and paparazzi milled around, the time inched closer to ten-without Saxton Hale.

"Where's Saxton?" she whispered worriedly. Mr. Reddy and several other employees entered the room and made their way towards the table, but there was no sign of the man of the hour.

"He should be here any second."

As if on cue, the wall burst, and forth came Saxton Hale in all his Australian, moustachioed glory. The Pyro shielded her face from the debris and rubble that flew all over the place, and Saxton nonchalantly ambled over to the table.

"HERE I AM, MATES-AND LADY." he announced proudly. A nearby hotel employee started yelling over the damage, but Saxton shooed him off and promised to pay for the damage at a later date.

"About time," she murmured. "Let's get this over with."

The clock struck ten and the press conference began. And, for the next hour or so, Saxton and the Pyro answered questions, kept their cool, and generally did quite well in the department of keeping a façade. Pyro found it a bit difficult to answer rude questions with polite answers, but tried her best not to flip the table over in a blind rage. Sticking to the story also proved to be a small challenge, but this was overcome by Saxton simply yelling, "NO COMMENT, YA NOSY WANKAH!" when he didn't know the answer to something. Spy, however, kept an extremely sharp eye on the crowd; thanks to his skills, he'd spotted the suspect once again.

Ah, true spying. Back in the day, Spy was a true master of espionage, and sometimes even did business for the government in exchange for their overlooking his not-exactly-legal activities. One of the most clandestine figures in the business, not once had he ever been caught in the act whilst spying-and he didn't intend on ever breaking that record.

Spy carefully cloaked, slipped away, and followed the suspect...out the door? Why was he leaving in the middle of the press conference, and where was he going? Was he upset, suspicious that he'd been caught; had he been struck with inspiration of some sort? He must've had something quite important to do, for he made haste while traversing the streets of the city. Finally, the man slipped into a sketchy, run-down townhouse, leaving the door open just a crack. After a nanosecond of hesitation, Spy cautiously followed him in, still cloaked. The interior itself was Bedlam. Riddled with blueprints, papers, and the walls? Mon Dieu.