Temple Guard

   They hadn’t come for him yet, but Lowe still wasn’t taking any chances. He longed to venture outside at times to relieve his loneliness…he didn’t use to be unsociable after all. The Sniper felt it was unfair to always confide in just Constantine and did not want to bother the Medic too often. As the days passed, he spent his hours watching his comrades through the scope of his rifle, or listened to them through cracks in the ceiling boards, longing for company but unwilling to talk.

   Lou Jian paid most of his attention to Spies and other Snipers, trying to learn more about them to determine if they were working for Liu. Palomo, the resident Spy, was a complete pain in the arse, an eccentric prankster who enjoyed using his cloaking and disguises to torment everyone else after hours, especially Snipers; ostensibly to teach them to guard themselves better. Doc Holliday, a BLU Sniper, had attacked him once and had killed others before, but Archer Court, a RED Spyper, recently killed him. Good riddance! From snippets of conversation and patient observation, Lowe learnt a lot about people around him even though he avoided them assiduously. Among other Snipers, he was virtually unknown…and the small Chinese Sniper was happy to keep things that way.

   Speaking of Archer, he had learnt a very surprising fact not long after his arrival. Homosexuality was rampant in both RED and BLU; he reasoned it was largely due to the severe shortage of females coupled with the lack of acceptance of gays in national armies. Once upon a time he would have disapproved of sodomy between his own men, but now Lowe was at rock bottom and beggars couldn’t be choosers insofar as companionship was concerned. In any case, he had grown used to it, he was comfortable with his own preferences and a woman awaited him back in China. He even knew of Archer’s beloved, a transsexual BLU Medic, and was in no position to object. All in all, especially after Archer removed Holliday, Lowe decided that homosexuality had no bearing on a man’s moral fiber, and ceased to take note of the issue.

   Suddenly there was the rumble of a car’s engine in the main driveway. Lowe slipped towards the hole in the wall of his abode, wondering who it could be. It sounded like the distinctive hum of Archer’s Ferrari. Why was the other man coming back at this time? It was late at night and this was when the others were all supposed to out and unwinding with others of their class…or visiting their lovers. It was a time of total solitude for Lowe, who always stayed behind, an unseen watcher within his own base. He watched as Archer parked his vehicle and stepped out, locking it behind him. He was alone. Of course, there was always the paranoid possibility that the man downstairs was really a disguised Spy, so as usual, Lowe was not inclined to greet his arrival.

   Archer froze. He saw the dot from Lowe’s laser sight illuminate the ground just in front of him, a spot of red in the pale moonlight, like a single drop of blood on white snow, before Lowe noticed it too and switched it off hurriedly. The intelligent Huntsman-using Sniper was also a Spy, and deduced that the only person still lurking in the base who would train a scope on him could only be the most hopelessly neurotic Sniper he’d ever seen. And yet the man had somehow evaded Doc Holliday, even wounding his dog, when so many others had fallen. He’d always seen the diminutive Sniper as nothing more than a coward…until tonight. Tonight he had seen and touched something supernatural when the notorious Miles Quincy and his pixie companions paid him a visit, and he had afterwards visited Strangelove and Macklin. Magic seemed to hang in the air that night and the romantic in Archer fancied that the wretched Lou Jian was the transmogrified shell of something nobler, and perhaps more than what he appeared to be. He looked up in the general direction of the sniper dot and waved cheerfully.

   Lowe lowered his rifle, unsure of how to proceed. He was certain that the man was indeed Archer now, and even if he wasn’t, he felt he could take out a lone Spy if he had to. Well, Archer Court WAS a Spy, and this was automatic grounds for distrust as far as Lowe was concerned. Other Snipers were leery of him too for the same reason. And yet he was also genuinely friendly and acted with saintly kindness towards others (save for Doc Holliday, but that was completely understandable). The Australian carried himself with honor and a spirit worthy of a Shaolin monk, and Lowe was even more impressed when he even demonstrated an aptitude for martial arts in addition to being vegetarian and very spiritually-inclined.

   It left him feeling rather guilty for trying to avoid Archer, who was walking into the base and would soon be lost in its depths. It wasn’t often that the two of them could be alone like this. So Lowe hurried away from his roost, down the hatch, which he shut behind him. He never ventured anywhere near the rooms belonging to the others and hadn’t the faintest clue where Archer’s one was, so he hovered near the entrance of the residential corridor, waiting for the Spyper to arrive.

   “I come and apologise, Mistah Court,” he muttered, seemingly at the empty darkness. Archer drew to a halt, uncloaking as he did so. He’d seen the smaller Sniper’s figure in the common space and immediately became suspicious himself – it was unlike Lowe to show himself so openly. But the strange accent was definitely his.

   “Lowe?...Lou Jian? Just call me ‘Archer’, will ye?” Archer cocked his head with curiosity.

   “Ah, okay Archer…,” Lowe’s ears pricked at the correct pronunciation of his Chinese name. His eyes remained hidden under a conical straw hat, a holdover from his days in the paddy fields of his hometown that was worn only when he was getting down to serious business. “I have unfairly misjudged and avoided you, and want to make amends.”

   “You avoid all Snoipahs and Spahs without exception. Why approach me in particular?”

   Lowe did not answer for several long moments, his expression unreadable to the taller Sniper. He breathed deeply, wondering how to phrase his answer, before giving out a quiet sigh. “Honor.”

   “Honor?”

   “Your mixed expertise disturbed me more than any pure-classed Sniper or Spy could; except for our mutual and now-deceased rival.”

   “You owe us all an apology. Had ye not mentioned it, I would not have known your reaction to be any different.” Archer could scarcely believe the events of the last several hours. He had met a ghost and three pixies, rescued and befriended a goblin, held his princess, and was now talking to a wizened hermit from the East. He’d said not too long ago that his life was not a fairytale, but it was starting to feel like one right now.

   “I can’t do that. Not yet.” Lowe whispered tonelessly, a touch of guilt hanging in his voice. “But in your case, I would *know*. I would know it was you I shunned the most, and the most unfairly. I have watched you Archer; as I have watched all the others. You are a man of principles and courage.” Lowe looked up, peering at Archer beneath his unkempt, spiky fringe. It was the first time the clean-shaven archer had seen Lowe up close, and he was surprised by the number of worry lines on the other’s face. In happier times, the little Sniper could even have been described as handsome. Now his strange personal sense of honor had summoned him from the shadows to stand alone before one of the people he feared the most.

   “Do you accept?” he muttered, breathing quicker in the still air.

   Archer considered carefully. With luck and patience, he might eventually be able to draw the other Sniper out of his shell. “Yeah, though you needn’t have asked. Ye should get out more.”

   Lowe ignored the second sentence. His gaze flitted from Archer to the nearest window, and he noted that the moon was full. The sky had cleared after the downpour that was raging just a few hours before. He opened his mouth to reply, but his voice died in his throat as the ghostly face of another Sniper appeared in the window, eyes glowing red under his wide-brimmed hat. Lowe’s eyes widened in shock, but when he blinked, the apparition was gone.

   “I also want to make amends. It is a full-moon night…a time when spirits and djinns haunt the world…and around the time of your next naked magic dance.” Lowe continued to gaze warily at the window, but nothing further happened.

   Archer’s brow twitched. So the hermit Sniper had watched him perform skyclad Wiccan rituals without saying a word. “Bloody hell, you were watchin’ that?”

   “Not watching. I do not share your religion or sexual preference. I only noted why you took pains to slip away from the base on some nights, and worried that you would be vulnerable without your bow or Ambassador.” The silhouette of Doc Holliday still loomed large in Lowe’s mind. “I would like to help watch *over* you and your belongings, Brother Archer.”

   “ ‘Brother’?” Archer sounded a little taken aback.

   “Er…you are like a monk to me. You follow a Goddess, practice martial arts and do not eat meat. I thought that’s what Western monks are called. But I’ll stick to ‘Archer’, if you prefer.”

   “Please do.” The Spyper tried to conceal his amusement. “If yer up for it, it’s time for moi ritual.”

   “And I will guard the doors of your temple, wherever it may be.” A sense of duty once again filled Lowe’s consciousness, making him feel almost as proud as the officer he used to be before his fall…

   The Spyper grinned and suddenly clapped a mischievous hand over Lowe’s shoulder, making him jump slightly in surprise.

   “Care to join in?”

   “……”