Snowflakes fell gently around the Coldfront compound, adding to the already substantial snowdrift barricading the men inside. Battles had been postponed indefinitely, much to the indignation of the mercenaries. But even they had to admit; it was hard to defend a capture point that was buried under four feet of snow.

Boredom had set in quickly. They all had their own methods of dealing with it. Scout's was to stare wistfully out the window and imagine he was bashing skulls in. The infirmary was on the second floor with large windows that overlooked the compound. It was an ideal location for a viewing platform.

After a few minutes of staring through the frosted glass window, Scout couldn't reign in his immaturity any longer. With confident strokes of a finger he drew a few variations of crudely drawn cocks in the condensation. He leaned back and admired his handiwork.

Demoman, who had been wandering nearby, caught attention to this and thumped his hand on Scout's shoulder as he shared in this impromptu art appreciation.

"Och, that be a mighty fine willie me laddy."

"Thanks man. Y'know, I might even go to art school or some shit when I'm done here."

"Yae be a natural if ever I saw one," Demoman swayed slightly at the beauty of Scout's expression. Also, possibly because of the potent homebrew he recently drank that afternoon.

Medic however, was quick to notice this vandalism on the windows of his infirmary and didn't share the same admiration.

"Ach, Scout dummkopf!" He adjusted his glasses and leaned over to properly assess this vision on the window. "Zee scrotum is most certainly not capable of growing to such proportions. Do remember to revise your anatomy before you deface my windows next time, von't you?"

Scout bristled and tilted his head, as if changing his perspective would somehow improve his drawing. It wasn't perfect but he did think that Medic was being unnecessarily critical. "Hey man, it's my style okay? It's like I've seen past what it actually looks like and made it fuckin' beautiful!"

Heavy, who was never far from Medic, lumbered over to see what all the commotion was about. He made room between Medic and Demoman and placed a thumb and forefinger to his chin thoughtfully.

Medic crossed his arms and looked up at the large man. "Tell me this is not a sorry excuse of an anatomical representation?"

Heavy furrowed his brow with severe intensity. He made a low rumbling in the back of his throat and squinted fiercely at the image. There was an extended period of silence as the men leaned forward, waiting for Heavy's answer.

Scout, impatient as ever, began to say something but was quickly interrupted by Heavy's insistent "Shh, shh, shh!" So he shut up and begrudgingly resumed waiting.

"Mmmm," Heavy closed his eyes, the answer now clear to him. "Is good. I like it."

Medic looked at Heavy, stunned. He couldn't quite believe that the Russian hadn't taken his side in this dispute. He folded his arms petulantly and sniffed. "Vhatever. I cannot convince plebs othervise."

Heavy shrugged. "Is simple, but it works."

"Well that's two to one Doc! It's a masterpiece."

Engineer was the next person to join the crowd. He had been wiping oil from his hands with a rag as he walked past the door and caught sight of this exhibition. He moseyed up the group in curiosity. "Howdy fellas. What seems to be the ruckus?"

"We're all jus' appreciatin' some fine art done by Scoot here. What do yae think?" Demoman pulled Engineer into the group so he could get a proper look.

"Well heck," Engineer scratched his head. "Can't say I know much about the abstractions of art. I'm more of a technical person myself."

"Ahah! Finally I have a contemporary who can agree with me on this matter. Scout's drawings are terrible." Medic adjusted his glasses with a glint of triumph.

"Now let's not get Hasty Doc." Engineer held his hands up defensively. "I'm just sayin' I don't know much about art. If anything I'm impartial on the matter."

The Soldier was the next to include himself in this congregation. Wary of any unauthorised team meetings, he pushed Medic to the side with his shovel and made his presence known. "Out of the way. What's going on? I demand a full explanation for this tea party you ladies are running over here."

"Scout vould like to think he is some sort of Monet." Said Medic.

"Monet?" Yelled Soldier, not entirely sure what a 'Monet' was.

"An artist." Medic looked down his nose at the graffiti soiling his windows.

"Art? Pah! Hippie crayon drawings. I'll tell you what real art is. Art is the wings of an eagle soaring on the wind. Art is a patriot saluting his flag. ART is a man who has the courage to take a bullet for his country!"

"Yeah but," Scout waved a hand at the window, "this is pretty good too."

"Hmm…" Soldier leaned in closer to get a better look. His oversized helmet was a hindrance to his short-range vision.

While all of this was going on, Sniper burst into the room in a flurry, irritated that his afternoon nap had been interrupted by the hubbub. "Roight, I don't usually come up here at this time'a day, but since you're all making such a bloody racket I thought 'why not'?"

"Calm yourself Sniper." Said Medic, hoping he could get at least one person on his side in this war against bad art. "Perhaps you could lend us an opinion and tell Scout here zhat his drawings are not only juvenile but also absurdly unskilled."

"Eh? Is that all this is about?"

Demoman was quick to defend Scout's ability. "Well ah think Medic's bein' a wee bit harsh on the lad. Sure he's got some improvin' tae do, boot he's still got talent."

Sniper relaxed a little. He chuckled at Medic's uptight attitude. "Ahh, it's just a bit of harmless fun. Used to draw that kind of stuff when I was a kid. Oi! Pyro, come over here and tell us what you think."

Pyro had just jogged past the doorway. He backtracked when he heard Sniper and peered past the doorframe. His shiny black eye lenses looked at the scene in curiosity.

"Come here leetle Pyro. We are looking at tiny Scout's baby drawings." Heavy moved aside to leave some room in the semicircle for him.

Pyro shuffled up. He had to wipe some condensation that had developed on his own lenses to see it properly.

"They ain't baby drawings. I'm a master. You tell em' Mumbles." Scout had his arms crossed. He was convinced of his brilliance and was staring defiantly at anyone who questioned him. Particularly Medic.

"Huddah hur?"

"See! Even Pyro thinks I'm amazing. I guess that settles it. I am the greatest artist ever. If you want my autograph ya gonna have ta line up. Single file fellas."

That would have been the end of the issue if it weren't until a plume of smoke erupted in the centre of the crowd. Everyone blinked at the well-dressed man standing before them. Spy certainly knew how to make an entrance.

"Gentlemen." When Spy was confident that he had everyone's attention, he pulled out his disguise kit from his shirt pocket and lit up a cigarette in one fluid motion. He turned his back to the crowed and gazed thoughtfully at Scout's pictures. He inhaled his cigarette and puffed out a ring of smoke. It was all very French. "Hmm, not bad for someone so young."

"Uh, thanks?" Scout was surprised by Spy's compliment, especially considering that he didn't exactly hand them out every day.

"Oh, but what is zhis?" Spy pointed to one of the images, and Scout leaned closer to see what he was talking about.

"Zhere appears to be some minor errors. I'm sure you will not mind if I make a few adjustments mon ami?"

Before the 'no' could even leave Scout's mouth Spy had set to work.

Everyone in the crowd leaned in to watch Spy's handiwork. With some masterful strokes his picture blossomed into life. He took time to put careful detail into each line. The frost on the window melted away at the touch of his deft fingers. When he was done he stepped back smugly. "So, 'ow is that for un pénis?"

"Well I'll be darned."

"Is beautiful!"

"Astounding. Wunderbar!"

"Crikey!"

"Hudda hudda huu!"

There was a murmur of amazement from almost every member of the team. On the window was the most perfect rending of a cock you could ever hope to see. When put in the same frame, it made Scout's own work look like the scribblings of a three year old.

"Ah, I'm blessed tae have witnessed such a thing!" A single tear leaked from Demoman's lone eye.

"What! What's going on?" The Soldier spun in circles peering out under the brim of his helmet trying to see what was happening.

"Oh, do not be discouraged boy." Spy gave a condescending pat to Scout's head. "I'm sure you will improve one day."

After some more admiration and glowing compliments, the group eventually dispersed leaving Scout alone at the window with a slightly deflated ego.

He looked at the pictures on the glass. A few ice crystals had melted and were now sliding down the drawings in long droplets. He hesitated for a second before he wiped the whole thing off with his forearm.

"Fuckin' Spy. Art is for queers anyway."