I was following the pack
all swallowed in their coats
with scarves of red tied 'round their throats
to keep their little heads
from fallin' in the snow

And I turned 'round and there you go
And, Michael, you would fall
and turn the white snow red as strawberries
in the summertime

Spy can't help but feel that this relationship, if you could call it that, is affecting his work. He's been too far laid back lately, and though he doesn't blame it on Sniper, he feels it's time to cut short their hopes of staying together in the future. It's for the best, he thinks. They both need this. It's not like it's sudden either; he's been meaning to do this for some time, he's just never had the courage up until now to let go.

He watches the streaks of early morning sunlight pour through the van's blinds and across the blankets. Sniper's sleeping on his stomach, his left arm draped across Spy's belly and his head resting on his upper chest. Spy listens to his soft snoring; he can feel his own chest rise and fall under the weight of Sniper's arm. On most mornings he would find this comforting, but this time he can only seem to feel troubled. He looks down slightly, trying his best not to disturb the other. Sniper shifts gently against him, his left leg sliding between Spy's own. Sniper's hair is a mess from their night spent tangled and gasping together, and Spy can see one of his more discernible scars that rests between his shoulder blades as the blankets slide down slightly. It was a close call from the enemy Spy's knife, if he remembers correctly.

Spy cautiously tries to pull himself away from Sniper, moving ever so carefully so as to not wake the other man. When he manages to unhook his leg, Sniper's snoring comes to an abrupt stop, and suddenly, the room is silent. Spy freezes in his tracks, but Sniper remains fast asleep, his breathing still steady. His suit is hung neatly over one of the chairs, and he plans to get it on as quickly as possible without Sniper noticing before he leaves for the day. His mask is there, too. It's something Spy already regrets doing, but it's not like he can do anything to change that mistake now. It will be better if he can get ready quickly and not have to deal with Sniper. Get dressed and get out. He attempts to shift out from underneath Sniper's arm as well, only to be pulled closer. This is taking longer than he'd hoped.

Spy continues to move as slowly as possible, waiting for Sniper to slip into deeper sleep. Eventually, he manages to pull out from under the other man. The warmth he was just wrapped in is replaced with cold morning air, causing goose bumps to rise along his skin. He only has to get dressed now, and then he can get on his way. As he goes to get up, he hears Sniper yawn loudly. Spy looks over, and Sniper blinks his tired blue eyes a few times before stretching his arms and giving Spy a lopsided grin.

"C'mere," Sniper laughs roughly, tugging Spy back down beside him, "I'm cold." Sniper pushes himself up on both his hands, placing one on each side of Spy. He leans down and presses their damp foreheads together, bumping their noses. Spy smells slightly of sweat and cigarettes and the fancy cologne he wears from time to time. He loves the way he smells. Sniper steals a quick kiss from Spy before lying back down in the same position he was before, cupping Spy's side and rubbing it soothingly this time, often tracing patterns along his chilled skin. They lay in silence.

"I cannot stay here, mon cher," Spy replies after a few moments, attempting to move once again under Sniper's grip.

"Wot?" Sniper looks up at Spy, and then out the window, "It's still early mate, sun's jus' come up. No need to be in such a rush quite yet. We still have plenty of time." He offers another smile before nuzzling into Spy's neck, kissing his jaw line and breathing in deeply just below his ear.

He presses snugly against Spy, slowly coaxing him into wrapping an arm around him as well.

"That's much better."

"Oui," Spy pauses, biting his lip, "I guess it is."