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Engineer gulped as his fist hung in midair in front of the door to Spy’s smoking room. He came by earlier, twice, each time met with Spy saying, ‘Go away.” Engineer prayed this time would charm Spy into listening to his request. In Engineer’s other arm hung a folded piece of clothing, and he shifted it in his arms before knocking.
“...who is it?” Came Spy’s disdainful reply from the other side of the door.
“It’s Engie, and I need yer help,”
Engineer waited, listening to a pause, the rustling of feet approaching the door, and the click of unlocking the door. It opened with the subtlest of creaks, and Spy leaned against the doorframe. He didn’t wear his suit jacket, but still wore his fine red waistcoat and white collar shirt. The sleeves rolled up past his elbows, framing his forearms with a relaxed yet elegant air. A fresh cigarette dangled from his lips with pale smoke curling from the glowing red tip.
“Yes?” Spy asked.
“Don’t suppose you have a spare needle and thread laying around, do you?”
“Yes, it takes work to keep my suits looking presentable after all.” He took a brief drag and let the smoke escape past his lips. “May I ask why you need them? Split a seam in one of your hideous overalls?”
Engineer’s brows furrowed. “No, and my overalls are fine, thank you very much. I just need to fix...this.” He unfurled the bundle in his arms and held it up with both hands.
Spy choked on smoke as his eyes bulged out.
“Spy! Easy, boy!” Engineer patted Spy’s back as his body heaved with heavy coughs.
“I...I take back my-- cough --previous statement. You’re overalls are nothing compared to...that monstrosity .” Spy pointed accusingly at the suit dangling from Engineer’s arm.
“Beg yer pardon?”
Spy’s nose wrinkled as Engineer held the offending garment up yet again. The hems at the sleeves frayed like straw and a couple strands of thread poked out from the shoulder seams. A paisley pattern of muddy browns and dull yellows covered everything, except the outer pockets where--oh, mon dieu--oval patches of thick orange leather were sewn on.
“Please tell me you came here to burn that revolting--”
“Now why in Sam Hill would I do that to a perfectly good suit?”
“I have never laid my eyes on a more unsightly suit. It’d do mankind a favor to destroy it.”
“Well, too bad. I came here for a needle and thread, because there’s a hole in it and it’s the only suit I’ve got.” Engineer flung it over his shoulder.
“Don’t tell me you plan on wearing that on the battlefield?”
“Of course not! Wearing impractical clothes is your job, not mine.” Engineer rubbed his neck. “Anyway, yesterday I got a letter from my cousin. He’s getting married in a few months and wants me to be the best man. Can’t exactly show up in my overalls and hardhat, now can I?”
“You can’t exactly show up in that suit, either.” Spy took a drawn out drag of his cigarette for patience.
Engineer sighed. “Look boy, I don’t have all day, so I’m going to ask you one more time; can I borrow a needle and some thread or not?”
Spy scoffed. “I’d sooner drink a can of BONK! than help repair that awful excuse of a suit.”
Finally, Engineer thought, an answer. Getting a solid answer from Spy was like solving a multivariable equation; took hard work and patience. Engineer would rather be doing that then talking with Spy. Tipping his hard hat, Engineer said, “Alright then--”
“I also refuse to let you wear that suit.”
“Say what now?”
Without a word, Spy pushed off the doorframe and walked back into his smoking room. He stopped by the armchair, where his pinstriped suit jacket was carefully draped to avoid creases. He picked it up and slid his thin arms through the sleeves as he walked back. “We’re getting you a new suit.”
“Wha-- now? Right now?”
“I thought I put it simply, as you are a simple man, laborer.” Spy buttoned his suit at his midsection. “Let me rephrase it; we are going to get into my car, drive to a decent tailor, and get you a new suit. And likely burn your current one along the way.”
“Wait--hold your horses, Spy! Jus--”
Spy glared at Engineer while smoothing his suit’s lapels.
“--aagh, fine,” Engineer pinched the bridge of his nose. “At least let me change my clothes and wash up before we go.”
“Very well then. I’ll be waiting in front of the fortress.” Spy turned and walked briskly down the hall. He said over his shoulder, “Don’t keep me waiting. The sooner we replace your suit the better.”
“And don’t even think about burnin’ my suit when I’m not lookin’!! You hear me, Spy?!”
Engineer stuck his tongue from the corner of his mouth as he wrestled with the silken red necktie Spy had tossed him with a handful of others. Engineer thought of himself as good with his hands, but the smooth silk kept slipping past his fingertips, evading the knot. With a grunt, he clutched at the tie, and tried one more time…
“Need some assistance, laborer?”
Engineer yanked at the tie, choking himself. As he gagged, he saw Spy materialize in front of him with a smirk. He hooked a finger behind the knot and loosened it with a quick tug.
“For the love of--” Engineer heaved. “Don’t scare me like that, boy! Didn’t you ever learn to knock?”
“Apologies, force of habit,” Spy stepped behind Engineer. They both faced the mirror, and Engineer now noticed the heap of suits hanging over Spy’s arm.
“Good gravy, are you trying to replace my entire wardrobe, Spy?”
“I’ll save that treat for another day. For now,” He hung most of the suits on a hanger, and held up two of them behind Engineer so he could see them in the mirror. “What do you think of these?”
Engineer pressed his lips together in concentration as he stared at the reflection. Both suits shone like glossy black silk, and sported finely sewn hems. The only discernible difference were their sizes and the style of the lapels, and he held no doubt that Spy could name each style by heart. Or maybe he didn’t? Engineer couldn’t help but chuckle at the ironic idea.
“May I ask what you find so amusing? Is there something on my mask?” Spy studied at his reflection.
“Nah, it’s nothin’.” He straightened the knot of his tie while gazing at his reflection. “I...I like the one on the left better. Looks like I’d barely fit in the other one.”
“What about these?” Spy exchanged the suits for two more from the hook.
“Mm...they both look look alright to me.”
“I’m sure they’d look better on you, however.”
Engineer blinked, looked away from Spy’s reflection and back at the real deal. As usual, he wore his trademark expression of confidence and wry amusement. Spy tilted his head and said, “Anyone looks better in a tailored suit. It’s a fact of life. Especially for me.”
“Oh, really,” Engineer’s face fell as he forgot the indirect compliment. “I suppose anything looks good on you, then.”
“Not everything. There’s such a thing as wearing poorly tailored clothing.”
“Like...you wearing one of Heavy’s shirts?” Engineer had enough self control to not laugh from the image--Spy, thin as a rake, wearing a shirt big enough to cover a mattress.
“Exactly. I’d look utterly ridiculous.”
“I think that goes for everyone. I’d look like a lil’ baby in his clothes.”
“Which is exactly why we’re getting you a tailored suit right here.”
“Alright, hand over the suits then.” He held his hand out. “Time to try these fancy pants clothes on.”
Countless suits, ties, and dress pants later found Engie standing alone in the dressing room as he kicked the final pair of fancy trousers off his legs. After folding it and setting it down on the tiny bench, he studied his reflection. It perfectly captured his stout legs and soft body. His stomach hung a few inches over his groin, spilling over his plain white briefs. Grinning like a five year old boy, he grabbed two handfuls of his pudge and played with the soft fat.
“Hee-hee,” He meshed the rolls on his stomach until they looked like fat lips, and continued to make them flex as he said in a squeaky voice, “ Yee-haw!! How--dy, partner! ”
“And ‘howdy’ to you too, partner.”
Engineer’s face and ears burned as he yelped. He whipped around, dropping his fat. His paunch still jiggled slightly as he faced Spy’s head poking out from the door. And he wore the biggest, smuggest grin on his face.
That grin was quickly covered by a thrown pair of trousers to his face.
“Get outta here, Spy! I’m indecent!!”
“You look plenty decent to me,” A single finger lifted the trousers enough to reveal that grin still there, along with a peeping eye raking over Engineer’s exposed figure.
However, he didn’t have enough time to fully appreciate the sight before Engineer shoved him backwards and slammed the door. Spy fell on his backside with a muffled cry, though he didn’t bother removing the trousers covering his face, not yet. He still hid his smile, along with a faint blush to his cheeks his mask didn’t quite cover.
Spy’s knuckles relaxed over the steering wheel of his sportscar. The dusty desert road filled every crack in the tires with sand, and would get inside the car if he left the windows open. He only opened the windows if he was smoking, though he currently chose not to with Engineer sitting right beside him. The car would get stuffier than a smoky chimney, and he doubted Engineer would like that.
However, Spy observed Engineer out of the corner of his eye. Engineer faced away, so only his profile could be seen, though his eyes were still visible, unfocused on the desert landscape. And it didn’t appear to be because he, as well as all the mercs, had long grown accustomed of it. Troubling thoughts clouded his eyes.
“...Spy?” Engineer said without looking away from the window.
“Yes?”
“There’s...something I need to get off my chest.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
Now Engineer turned towards Spy--of course Spy would pick up on it--but then he cleared his throat and clasped his hands in his lap. “You didn’t happen to burn my suit while I was tryin’ on all those other suits, did you?”
“As much as I would have loved to, I sadly did not have the opportunity to do so.”
“Good, that’s...that’s good.”
“Did you want me to?”
“I...” He rubbed his flesh hand over his bald head as his gunslinger clenched in his lap. “Kind of.”
The car lurched to a halt in the middle of the road with a sharp screech. Both men were jerked forward, and Engineer grabbed the armrest for support. “The hell--why in Sam Hill did we sto--” His mouth froze as Spy stared at him with utter bafflement. He raised the back of his hand to Engineer’s forehead.
“Do you have a fever?”
“Wha--’course not!” Engineer gently swatted the hand away. “Listen, Spy, I--I know it sounds weird coming from me, but it’s not for the reason you think.”
“So it’s not because of it’s horrendous design?”
“No, and I personally think it’s an alright look. But, the thing is, it...was getting a bit small for me.”
“I take it was getting too snug around the shoulders?”
Engineer’s eyes widened. “You could tell jus’ by looking at it?”
“You don’t wear suits every day and not learn a few things about them, laborer.”
He relaxed with a chuckle. “Well, better than calling me fat like Scout would. I’ve actually gained a lil’ muscle up here,” He heartily patted his shoulders, where extra fat concealed impressive biceps. “Especially since I last wore that thing. When I tried it on this morning I nearly ripped the sleeves off.”
Engineer nearly jumped in his seat when Spy burst out laughing. He doubled over as much as he could with the seatbelt across his chest. His forehead pressed against the wheel between his hands. He was even snorting between laughs, and Engineer secretly liked the sound of it--it didn’t sound forced or disdainful, but genuine and...happy.
“Aha-ahaa--You’ll have to excuse that outburst, laborer,” Spy coughed, “you just reminded me of something.”
“Reminded you of what?”
“Do you remember that one undershirt Scout had that he decorated himself?”
“Oh...Oh! You mean the one where he painted the words ‘I flexed and the sleeves fell off’ on the front in big black letters?”
“Oui, that one.”
Engineer chuckled. “Shame it came out in the wash and ruined all his underwear though. I thought it was a pretty cute idea.”
“It was fitting for him, I’ll give you that.” Spy cleared his throat. “Now where were we? About your suit being too tight?”
“Yeah, but I mean, I thought I could still wear it, at least long enough for the wedding. Figured buying a whole brand new suit would be too much trouble, and ‘sides, that suit has a soft spot in my heart.”
“Why?”
“Because my grandma made it for me. Bless her soul, she was no seamstress but she worked hard on that thing! And it fit like a glove back when she made it.” Engineer sighed. “You don’t just go throwing away clothes your loved ones made just for you, boy.”
“I suppose that does make sense. The time and love put into something can mean more than craftsmanship to some.”
“Does it to you, Spy?”
Spy’s eyes darted away briefly as his lips remained still.
Engineer stared at his shoes. “...Right, ‘course I’m not gonna get an answer from something as personal as that.”
“I’d prefer to answer that question another day.”
Engineer subtly gasped at this, and Spy continued, “But for now, I’ll leave your suit alone.”
He didn’t call it ugly this time , Engineer thought.
Spy looked back at Engineer and said, “But can promise me you’ll at least not wear it in public?”
“What, and use it as a junk shirt or something?”
Spy shrugged. “I suppose. Unless you’d prefer to burn it...” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his expensive lighter. With a flick a light sparked, casting Spy’s eager grin in a warm glow. Those things didn’t usually go well together, but...Spy somehow pulled it off. Or at least Engineer thought so, he could be wrong. He was a man of science, not poetry, after all.
“Nah, maybe some other time, and I think I’ll leave that to Pyro. I’m sure he’d be happy to.”
The disappointed frown on Spy’s face was legendary as he flicked the lighter off. “Have it your way,” He snuck the lighter back into his pocket. “But know my offer still stands.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, partner.” Engineer leaned back against the window again as Spy realized they had been idly chatting in the car for nearly five straight minutes--the split second-embarrassed look on his face was rather cute--and pushed his foot against the gas pedal. The motor purred back to life and they drove across the empty road. After they passed their hundredth cacti on the road, Engineer whispered, “Thanks, Spy.”
“Hm?” He glanced from the road.
“For buying me the suit, I mean. And all that.”
It might have been the setting New Mexico sun playing tricks on Engineer’s eyes, but it almost looked like Spy was blushing, even though his mask, as he replied, “ De rien, laborer.”