fic: Such a Happiness
Apr. 2nd, 2016 11:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Such a Happiness
Series: TF2
Chracter/pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling, Yana(/Demoman), ensemble mentioned, Soldier/Zhanna mentioned
Rating: NC-17/NSFW
Word count: 5476
Author's note: Something I've told Madie I'd do for her a ways back. Contains jealousy and a it of jealousy/possessiveness kink.
“It's such a happiness when good people get together.”
― Jane Austen, Emma
"Really? A bar pre-baby shower bar trip?" Miss Pauling said.
"Demoman planned the shower, though, and he's a friggin' genius," Scout said.
At this rate, little should surprise her, especially considering it was Demoman. Last year he'd crafted a plan to get aliens drunk by sending alcohol up to stop the menace--and it had worked. Demoman was his own form of drunken master brilliance.
Someone---she suspected that Scout and one of Heavy's sisters may have been involved---had put some kind of decoration stapled clumsily to the dark fake wood panel walls. Even with purple glittery text saying congrats on getting knocked up (further confirming her suspicions of who was in charge of the decorating), the bar still remained a dismal, dingy place.
The lighting was almost low enough to cover the bullet holes, the stains of indiscernible origin all over the carpet. She couldn't even tell what color it was supposed to originally be.
Scout leaned against the bar, keeping ever close to her. His suit jacket was undone in a way she couldn't quite tell was laziness, the desire to piss off Spy, or both. He kept rubbing at his hair, making a mess of what little order he'd managed, until the tips stuck up like he'd just woken up with quite some bedhead after a night of wild marathon sex. Still, it fit him, far more than anything too neat and narrow.
"There you are."
Miss Pauling turned to the new arrival. At the door, Yana held several packages. She had pulled her hair back into a high ponytail. Her bangs were pulled to the side with floral barrettes that matched the faint design her filmy sundress. Heels would've made her tower over most men, though Miss Pauling thought she might've settled for flats to keep from toppling over.
"Am I interrupting anything?" Yana said.
"No, we're just setting up," Miss Pauling said.
For a fraction of a second, Yana looked disappointed. But she regained her composure so fast that Miss Pauling didn't linger on that moment. She set the bags down near the bar, right next to Miss Pauling's red cracked vinyl stool.
"This heat is something. I don't know how anyone can stand it. I've never felt anything like this in my homeland," Yana said.
"Hell, I don't know how you took friggin' Siberia, and I been through tons of Boston winters," Scout said.
"You can put more clothes on, but heat like this makes me want to crawl out of my skin," she said. She looked to him, and smiled. "You could snuggle for body heat as well. Deserts don't have this."
"True, though you don't get the cute bikinis that hot places do. At least there's no sand in your shoes, or cactus spines in your ass," Scout said.
Yana laughed, and touched his arm. Miss Pauling's left eye twitched as she saw Yana get closer. Like watching a car crash happen right in front of her, she clenched her jaw as she watched the flirtation unfold right before her eyes. If it wasn't enough to have one desperate Siberian hitting on the mercenaries, now another was after Scout.
"Snow in your boots is just as bad. Besides, I don't think this dress would protect me from a single bear, but this desert is no place for a parka," Yana said.
"Well, there ain't many bears around here, you gotta go north for those, and they're a shitty team, too," Scout said.
"True, true," Yana said. She couldn't keep herself from giggling. She patted Scout on the arm again, and Miss Pauling felt a throb start about the side of her jaw. She'd broken fingers for less.
"You're so very witty! I really like that," Yana said.
Scout, of course, drank in the praise. He leaned back, cocksure and smug in that egotistical way he'd practically perfected. "Hey, thanks for noticin'! I try to always have perfect quips for when someone makes a movie out of my awesome life. And is there ever great fodder. It's really only a matter of time before that director guy comes back and films me."
"Not likely," Miss Pauling muttered, but neither of them heard her, they were too wrapped up in talking to each other. She might as well not even be there, with all the stupid flirting, and Yana laughing. And of course Scout would just jump at any attention and reason to talk on.
"Oh, you should tell me all about it. But that is not what I came here for. Scout, I need you to help me with the decorations. Some are falling down in the back room," she said. She looked up at him through her freakishly long lashes, the dark, thick type which never needed mascara, and were so uncommon in blonds.
"Well, shit. I thought I stapled enough. I got this," Scout said. He turned to Miss Pauling. "You comin'? I bet you have a mean staplegun."
"Oh no, she's far too busy. It should be just us," Yana said. Miss Pauling's jaw twitched as she saw Yana reach towards Scout's arm again.
"Yeah, you're right. She's always busy. That's our Miss Pauling, always workin'," Scout said.
Miss Pauling didn't reply, but Yana caught his attention before Scout could notice her grimace. She peeled the wrapper off of his beer. A broken bottle could work as a makeshift weapon, though she preferred her gun. Much more efficient, and less messy. She tightened her grip on the bottle as she heard Yana's laughter down the hall.
Miss Pauling rubbed at her forehead. What the hell was she thinking? Of course, she and Scout technically weren't dating. There'd been those moments when she thought they would die, and the moments before the robot war when they'd flirted over dead bodies and eaten cold chicken under the stars. He'd pushed aside her hair and stuttered out a compliment, leaving greasy traces with his fingerprints. And for once, she hadn't even minded.
That was what she got for giving him a second glance. He was a notorious flirt, and a egotistical liar. What had she expected? For him to suddenly give up all of the other girls and wait for her?
That was a long time ago, a voice reminded her, and you haven't even so much as had a snack with him since then. Did you really think he'd wait forever like he said? He exaggerates everything. To him, two months would be forever, and it's already been two years.
Miss Pauling sighed and set the wine bottle aside. She moved towards the hall, which happened to be the same way towards the back room, and the ladies restroom. Miss Pauling reminded herself that she was not following them, she was going to the bathroom to check her lipstick.
The air was filled with stale potpourri as she closed the bathroom door behind her. The lighting was even worse in here, so much that she had to squint to see her reflection. She scuffed her shoe across the ripped shag carpet, a color she couldn't quite say in this light. She pulled out her lipstick. In the mirror, it looked like she'd sucked on a lemon. She'd chewed off half her lipstick, and her teeth were edged in red. She rubbed away the lipstick with her finger. At least it wasn't a spinach leaf stuck to her teeth.
She tried to gargle away the bitterness aftertaste of the lipstick, but she could see it all too clear when she caught sight of herself in the mirror again.
What do you expect? You didn't take the chance.
It was one thing getting an I told you so speech from parents or friends. It was another when it was her own conscience was giving her that.
"I thought I'd murdered you by now," she muttered.
But all the alcohol and bodies hadn't made this reason and regret leave her.
Not that she particularly had friends. She had coworkers, and she had a boy who wasn't quite hers, but wanted to be. One who had fought so hard to be by her side, stealing a damn briefcase, and taking her hand as they flung themselves into what surely would be death, what surely would be that end, with certain regrets passing her mind with the sounds of flames.
Or, at least she had.
She put the lipstick back to the abyss of many things, from gum to pills and ammo at the bottom of her purse. She paused as she heard them further down the hall. Scout's voice was amplified by echoes. She pushed her back to the wall and inched closer to the edge.
"–Yeah, and that isn't even the best thing about Miss Pauling-"
Yana laughed. "You're so smitten! You can't even spend two seconds without talking about Miss Pauling this, Miss Pauling that, Miss Pauling literally hangs the stars in the skies---and your eyes. That's such a good line, I should write it down."
There was a rustle, as she presumably looked around in her large leather purse, that looked large enough to kill someone with. Knowing Yana, she probably could.
"You're writin' now? That's neato," Scout said.
"The winters in Siberia were so very long, and Misha could only send so many books back. I read The works of Jane Austen and The Highland's Prince so many times that the covers fell apart," Yana said. She sighed dreamily, and there was a swishing noise, as if she'd spun around, or perhaps embraced someone? Miss Pauling moved closer along the wall to see.
"I've practically memorized them. I liked MacGregor a bit better than Mr. Knightley, I have to admit," Yana said mischievously.
Scout chuckled, though she honestly doubted he'd read either book.
"You didn't even notice how much I was flirting with you. I even read many romance novels to perfect my---how do you say it? My 'flirt game,'" she said.
"Oh yeah, that. I'm flattered and all, but it's just her for me. I ain't doin' that life anymore. I know this is really hard for you, and it'll take probably at least a decade to stop mournin' the loss--"
"I'm fine, really," Yana said flatly.
"Oh, that's good! I wouldn't want to have the big guy on my case for accidentally breakin' both his sister's hearts forever--"
"She's just fine as well," Yana said.
"---but Miss Pauling is the only girl for me. That feels really good to say. I really want to scream it from the hills, but I gotta wait on her, you know?"
Miss Pauling's heartbeat sped up as she tried to process the words. Her mind replayed the scene, and it came to her that Scout had only had been friendly, not flirty, at least by his standards. He hadn't made a single come on, or even one little flex.
"But you really love her, yes? Then why aren't you together?" Yana said.
Scout didn't respond immediately. She heard a rustle of clothing that after her knee-jerk surge of jealousy, she realized was probably pacing, not him pulling his shirt off.
"That's...complicated, I guess. Probably lots due to work. But I've been waitin' for her! I ain't even so much as chased as another girl, and man have they been throwin' themselves at me."
"I'm sure they have," Yana said dryly.
She would've bet money that Yana was rolling her eyes too.
" And love...I don't know, that seems like it ain't enough. There's love songs all over and guys who use that kind of thing just to get some that night. I mean I never stooped that low, but they're out there. She's just...more. More than words can describe. And I describe them anyways, because those words are all I got, even if I stutter and make a fool of myself again, because maybe, just maybe, I can get through to her." Scout trailed off, and laughed to himself, though it sounded almost rueful.
"Then perhaps you need to tell her again?" Yana said.
"I have! Trust me, no shortage of talkin' to her. I definitely thought we had this moment around that bread monster thing, when we both thought we were goin' to kick it for good, and afterwords, but then this whole robot thing came and we ain't been barely spendin' time together at all. Every time I try and talk to her, she seems pissed at me."
"Hmm. I think I need to read more novels to understand this one. For a moment, I thought it might be a Lizzy Bennet situation, and it certainly isn't a Mansfield Park situation..."
She heard a rustling, and then Yana let out an audible gasp.
"Perhaps, it's Persuasion! Yes, yes, it must be that! She was persuaded by something, or someone near to her to give up her true love. Someone convinced her that you both were not a good match. She regrets it deeply, but for some reason, she kept to this person, and even ignored her own heart. Oh, that's so sad, that she would be the Anne of all the heroines to be."
"So, how do I fix this?" Scout said desperately.
"Seemingly get engaged to someone years later, causing her to realize her feelings, then one day send her a letter saying you loved her all along and that you were never really engaged," Yana said. Her voice had gone dreamy at the mention of the books.
"What? I don't wanna fake marry anybody! Ain't there any other options?"
"Well, the MacGregor option is to go through time for her and fight two dragons for her name," Yana said.
"That's more a Demoman thing," he said.
"....You don't say. I really need to be better acquainted with him." She heard more rustling, then Yana laughed. "We haven't gotten much decorating done at all. You've talked, talked, talked and Zhanna will skin us for ruining her party."
"Oh, crap. Hand me that staple gun, would you?"
Her back to the wall, Miss Pauling felt a rush in her chest. She rested her palm at her heart. She wished she could have captured those words and rewound them, listened to them many, many times over. But memories would have to suffice. She counted a few seconds to steady her breath. She rapped her knuckles on the open door. Both Yana and Scout turned towards her. His face lit up when he saw her.
"Miss P! There you are! You goin' to help us finish this decoratin'?"
"Actually, no. Yana, can you finish this up for us? I need to discuss something with Scout. Privately."
"Of course," Yana said cheerfully. She held up the staple gun and waved, as Miss Pauling all but dragged Scout out by the wrist.
"Whoa---"
She craned her neck down the hall. Other than the bathroom, the only remotely private place was the coat room. After a second's thought, she chose the coats. There was a padded folding chair hidden behind many wool coats. Scout stared at both her and the chair in a completely dumbfounded way.
"What, you got a---"
"Sit," she said.
He obeyed, stunned to momentary silence at her outburst.
She was filled with things she could say, but all of them would come out in anger, so she let her lips do the talking instead.
She climbed up on his lap and kissed him hard enough to push the chair back into the wall at an angle. It was caught just enough that they kept from falling. Which was good, given that she had no plans of stopping anytime soon. He moaned into the kiss. She was slowly unraveled, lost buttons and control and regrets. His hands wandered into her hair, undoing careful work she'd done, or that with every kiss, he was wearing more of her lipstick than she was.
She pulled back only to stroke his face, one deeply intimate moment through all this desperate passion.
"Scout, I don't want to share you. I know I've been distant, but---I really don't want to see you with someone else," she said.
"Miss Pauling... I'm all yours. That's what I've been tellin' you," Scout said.
"Good," she said.
He managed to undo all the buttons on her blouse and her bra with stunning speed. His fingers could work just as fast as the rest of them. She pushed hard against him, grinding her hips to his and shoving the folding chair at an angle.
"Miss Pauling---"
"You'll have to be quiet, unless you want to get caught," she said.
He shivered as she licked his throat. "You'd probably like something like that, wouldn't you? But, don't worry, I'll find a nice soundproof room later, and you can scream all you want. But for now, we're going to have to make do, because this can't wait any longer," she said.
"Oh god, it really can't. You're---fuck---" He gasped, his words forgotten as she left a new hickey on his neck. Most people probably would've been satisfied with just a few, but she had every intention of leaving as many as she could manage. The chair wobbled, but she didn't let go.
"Miss Pauling....I think the chair is about to give."
"Then I'll take you on the floor," she said
Scout took a sharp intake of breath. He quickly shifted and turned, to take the brunt of the fall. She reached for him as they fell together. Seconds after the small impact, she pulled at his collar to give her more access to suck at his neck. His moaning was growing louder-enough to likely draw whatever bouncers or bartenders staffed this place. But the sound was too damn good for her to tell him to be quieter.
She ground herself against him, pulling at his shirt until buttons started to rip.
"Miss--Miss Pauling---"
She covered his mouth with hers, and ground against him more. She could feel him hard against her, his moans getting more desperate with the friction on the bulge in his pants. She had no condoms on her, and in the middle of a war, she hadn't exactly gotten a chance to refill her birth control. But she'd be damned if she didn't make him hers right now, right in this damn bar.
She glanced behind her when she thought she heard something down the hall. Just because they'd managed to not be interrupted yet didn't mean it would last. Scout smirked wide as he undid his belt like some kind of burlesque show.
"We can't go that far..." She bit her lower lip to cover a moan. "I don't have any birth control."
"I'm sure we can find something to do," Scout said. His voice was low and husky. Her toes curled as he kissed her once more.
God, he could be damn sexy when he wanted to be.
It was so tempting to go fuck the consequences, I'm riding him anyways. But as tempting as it was, she restrained herself. They'd waited years; she could manage a few more hours.
Speaking of restrained...she knew that kept those extra handcuffs in her purse for a reason. Tonight, she'd have a refilled birth control package even if it took forged signatures, and taking her prescription at gunpoint.
He pushed his hand up her skirt, and slid her panties aside just enough that he could touch her. His mouth covered her right nipple. It was her turn to bite her lip so hard to keep from drawing attention. His tongue was warm, soft and wet. The stimulation made her clit throb, and he hadn't even gotten there yet. Even with her attempts to keep quiet, her breath came out in desperate gasps, with just a tiny little whimper slipping through her attempts at self-control and secrecy. She was trying so hard not to scream, but it'd been so long.
"That's pretty cute...I really want to hear more, like you screamin' my name," Scout whispered. He tugged on her panties, until they were about her knees. He teased her with his thumb, down across her slit and just touching her, but not enough to truly get her off. Her heartbeat was frantic in her chest as she jutted her lips in time with his fingers thrusting inside of her.
"God, you're so warm and wet. You're so soft and friggin' gorgeous. I've wanted this for so long...."
His palm slid across the edge of her labia, flat across her clit. She ground against him, a whimper building up in her throat as he slipped another finger inside her. She heard footsteps, and craned her neck back, fear and a rising arousal all mixed together. A creak, and another door down the hall opened. No more footsteps came.
She really thought they were going to get caught this time, something which only made her skin feel hotter, more sensitive as she writhed against him. She never knew she was like that though with her line of work and lack of time, she'd have a chance to enjoy the risk of fucking around in public quite a bit.
Even in her almost-orgasm incoherence, she kept touching him, feeling him to remind herself that he was hers now.
He was thrusting into her just right. His four fingers filling her up in the best way. She was half-lidded, and closer to an orgasm faster than she'd ever had. Pressure was building up inside her, throbbing and perfect. She stopped his stream of words with her lips, just because she couldn't stand another moment not kissing him, another moment regretting about what could happen. Silenced him with a kiss, she was beginning to think this would be a habit with them.
She buried her face against his neck as she came, desperate and pounding with an intensity she hadn't ever known. With a happy sigh she just rested there, so she could hear every breath, every heartbeat. It wasn't until she was well into the afterglow that she spoke.
"Ahhh, damn that was--really something," Miss Pauling said.
"You are one hell of a kisser. Holy shit," Scout said.
"And you have a lot of talents I didn't know about...I'm looking forward to seeing the rest of them," she said. Suggestive and flirty wasn't usually her, and yet around him, this side came out. She couldn't help but laugh a little at the look of shock and awe on his face.
"What?"
"Holy shit. Fuckin' hell yeah." Scout licked his lips, "I can't wait to get you back in my room alone and show you just what I can do. You and me, I'll fuckin' make you forget your name from how many times you'll come."
Considering what had just happened, she had no doubt he could manage it now.
"I'm going to hold you to that, amnesia and all," she said. She started to collect herself. Without a mirror she couldn't tell how badly their making out had mangled her makeup, though she could guess. She started to do up her bra again, much to Scout's disappointment.
"Aww, but I loved the boobs, we were just gettin' acquainted. Can't they stay out a little longer?" Scout said.
"They'll be back for an encore later when we're not, you know, in the middle of a bar. Wait, what time is it?" Miss Pauling checked her watch. Her eyes widened at the numbers--she had to read it twice for the realization to set in.
"Shit, shit, shit! We were supposed to be at the wedding over a half hour ago. The service might already be over!" She redid the rest of the buttons on her blouse, only to find out that in her haste, she'd left an uneven gap.
He let out a long groan. "We're stoppin' like this? Are you tryin' to kill me from blue balls or somethin'?"
He was covered in hickies and her lipstick, his hands still wet from her juices, smelling thick of musk. Also his usual cheap cologne had completely been overwhelmed like hers. He couldn't be more thoroughly claimed as hers if he had a Property of Pauling: Do not touch! written in her lipstick on his forehead and tattooed on his ass.
Which, come to think of it, wasn't a bad idea.
"Zhanna is going to kill us," Miss Pauling said.
"Hate to break it to you, Miss Pauling, but she'd probably prefer gettin' married without you there," Scout said.
"Either that or hate me for not coming even when she didn't want me to come. Befriending her is a lost cause. I never was good at friendship, anyways. Killing people, burying people in shallow graves, those are things I can do. Girl talk? I can't do that sort of thing," Miss Pauling said.
"Pretty sure her girl talk would involve how many bears she punched today, and how many communists she and Soldier killed," Scout said.
"Good point. I'm sure she'll get along wonderfully with Mags," she said.
"I mean, I'll be your friend---but not your friend friend, like your boyfriend, you feel me? You wouldn't ever be alone or lonely, but not on the kind of friend who doesn't get to do stuff like this," Scout said. The further he went, the more he tripped on his attempted declaration. He'd be well into ums and uhs, and maybe even into desperate anecdotes to try and distract her. But his sincerity was charming.
"I know. Or, I mean I should've known. I just started seeing red for a minute there...and green. It was a lot of colors, okay," she said.
"Oh god, you were jealous? I can't believe it!" He lifted up his hand, his momentary triumph.
Miss Pauling shook her head. "Really, Scout?"
"Fuckin' A, I wanna celebrate this. You were totally wantin' to claw some eyes out for me." He laughed, giddy, and shook his head. "I mean, damn fuckin' finally."
She smiled, just a little at his outburst. Underneath the bravado, he could actually be really cute.
When given the choice between going to the wedding of someone she wasn't remotely fond of, yet could not kill and bury in a shallow grave in the desert and getting to see what Scout's face looked like when he came, the choice wasn't even remotely difficult.
"You know what, screw her. I don't want to go to her wedding anyways. Now, let's do something about saving you from blue balls...."
Scout was all too happy to help Miss Pauling out of her clothes again.
*
Miss Pauling had reapplied her own makeup, but Scout had done little but wash his hands. He kept her lipstick on his collar, and all over his face like a badge of honor. He had never looked more satisfied with himself. After that orgasm, she'd be willing to stroke his ego.
And more than that, once they had a little more times to themselves.
"Like what I've done with myself? or I should say with you?" Scout smugly smoothed his hair back.
"I do, but it needs just a little something," she said.
She pulled out her perfume from her purse, and doused him in a few spritzes. Only once her perfume surrounded him like a force field was she satisfied.
"Jeez, people in France are goin' to be able to smell me," Scout said.
"Exactly as planned," she said.
They came out together, Miss Pauling just a little awkward. She wasn't quite so used to flaunting her sex life, then again until a few minutes ago, she hadn't had one in the last decade, so it'd been kind of a moot point. The bar was mostly empty, save for Demoman at the far end, and Yana fiddling with a bouquet near the hallway.
Yana brightened at the sight of them. "Hey, there you are! It must have worked! It didn't even take a decade and proposing marriage to someone else to get her."
"And I sure am glad about that. I mean I'd wait as long as it took, yeah, but offerin' marriage to someone else? That just sounds wrong. The only one who should be goin' down the aisle with me is Miss Pauling."
"That's so sweet. Speaking of aisles, and weddings, the wedding is already over. I took many pictures," Yana said. She held up a camera. "Though, I do not know much about developing film. I must find a place for that."
"They're all over. In fact, Spy will do it for free," she said.
Though it usually took blackmailing and threats to get him to not keep his own copies for blackmailing and threat making purposes. She figured the wedding probably wouldn't get them implicated in international conspiracies, though knowing Soldier, it might get them implicated in murder cases.
"Yeah, I bet it was great. We were goin' to go, but then we had to go find somethin'," Scout said. Scout pulled at his collar, only revealing more triumphant hickies across his neck. She hadn't quite gotten to give him enough love bite bruises as she wanted, but the very large ones across his neck got the message across.
And she could always fix it so he was utterly covered in love bruises tonight.
Yana reached out to pat his arm. "I'm so glad for you."
Miss Pauling felt hairs at the back of her neck stand up. She moved from the bar and entwined her arm with Scout's, effectively pushing Yana's hand away.
"Aww, Miss P, you know you're all I want. I mean, it's hot as hell, but you don't gotta worry at all," Scout said.
"Russian women keep throwing themselves at you. I'm going to wage a cold war of my own at this rate," Miss Pauling said from between clenched teeth.
"I'll say no to all of them, say I'm taken. All the millions of girls who want a piece of this, I'll tell 'em no, no, no, only Pauling for me," Scout said.
"That's so wonderful. I'm glad both of you finally started realizing things. You're very welcome," she laughed a bit at the last part. Her mouth was obscured and muffled by the edge of the bouquet.
"For the record, even if this worked, it's not a good idea to throw yourself at other people's boyfriends just to make a point," Miss Pauling said.
Scout broke into a big smile when she said the 'b' word.
Yana moved the bouquet away, revealing a big smile. "No, this is a good thing! It worked. See, we were cloistered away for so long in that cabin, but brother Misha, he sent us forbidden English books. Of course, we read our Tolstoy, but he gave us so much more. We read them until the pages fell apart. I so loved Emma as a protagonist, though my sisters hated her. The minute I came here, I know my time had come. And here it is, I've fixed my first match," Yana said.
"You do know that the whole point of Emma was that her matchmaking was harmful and immature, right?" Miss Pauling said dryly.
"Oh, but I've learned from her mistakes. Speaking of which, I've got another match to make," she said. She walked on down the bar.
"Excuse me, bartender, I'd like to buy that man a drink," she said.
She slipped up beside Demoman and leaned on the counter. She toyed with her blond hair, and leaned her knees in towards his legs, until they almost touched.
"You look like pure royalty, like a hero right out of legends. Tell me, have you ever punched a bear?"
Demoman smiled. "Nice of ye to notice, lassie. I've fought wizards and ghosts, but no bears. Scotland doesn't have a lot of them."
"You know, I could give you some pointers," Yana said.
"Ye don't say?" Demoman said.
"Well, that's a disaster waiting to happen," Miss Pauling said under her breath.
Scout and Miss Pauling walked on, past the new match Yana was working her hardest to make.
"Y'know, she might be onto somethin'," Scout said.
"If she does it as wrongheaded as she did with us, she'll be summoning some awful cursed creature by accident, and they'll fall in love amid an inter-dimensional war Demoman started by belching at the wrong time," Miss Pauling said.
"Orrr, A zombie bear!" Scout said with flourish.
"God, I hope not," Miss Pauling said.
"It could be fun," Scout said.
"They'll be on their own with fighting those zombie bears. Because we've got some catching up to do," she said.
Scout smiled, and squeezed her hand. "Miss Pauling... We're finally here. Over six years, and I didn't even have to fake marry anybody to do it. Though, I did punch a few bears in the process."
"Well, I'm glad for that. I'd have to spring you from your fake wedding, and then bury all the witnesses."
"Actually, that sounds kind of cool. Like some James Bond thing. Think we could rent a dress and do it, just you and me?"
"Maybe later. If I remember right, somebody is supposed to be giving me amnesia pretty soon," she said.
He leaned down to kiss her. And in that moment she did have a kind of forgetting. All the jealousy and unhappiness she had been feeling faded away.
Series: TF2
Chracter/pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling, Yana(/Demoman), ensemble mentioned, Soldier/Zhanna mentioned
Rating: NC-17/NSFW
Word count: 5476
Author's note: Something I've told Madie I'd do for her a ways back. Contains jealousy and a it of jealousy/possessiveness kink.
“It's such a happiness when good people get together.”
― Jane Austen, Emma
"Really? A bar pre-baby shower bar trip?" Miss Pauling said.
"Demoman planned the shower, though, and he's a friggin' genius," Scout said.
At this rate, little should surprise her, especially considering it was Demoman. Last year he'd crafted a plan to get aliens drunk by sending alcohol up to stop the menace--and it had worked. Demoman was his own form of drunken master brilliance.
Someone---she suspected that Scout and one of Heavy's sisters may have been involved---had put some kind of decoration stapled clumsily to the dark fake wood panel walls. Even with purple glittery text saying congrats on getting knocked up (further confirming her suspicions of who was in charge of the decorating), the bar still remained a dismal, dingy place.
The lighting was almost low enough to cover the bullet holes, the stains of indiscernible origin all over the carpet. She couldn't even tell what color it was supposed to originally be.
Scout leaned against the bar, keeping ever close to her. His suit jacket was undone in a way she couldn't quite tell was laziness, the desire to piss off Spy, or both. He kept rubbing at his hair, making a mess of what little order he'd managed, until the tips stuck up like he'd just woken up with quite some bedhead after a night of wild marathon sex. Still, it fit him, far more than anything too neat and narrow.
"There you are."
Miss Pauling turned to the new arrival. At the door, Yana held several packages. She had pulled her hair back into a high ponytail. Her bangs were pulled to the side with floral barrettes that matched the faint design her filmy sundress. Heels would've made her tower over most men, though Miss Pauling thought she might've settled for flats to keep from toppling over.
"Am I interrupting anything?" Yana said.
"No, we're just setting up," Miss Pauling said.
For a fraction of a second, Yana looked disappointed. But she regained her composure so fast that Miss Pauling didn't linger on that moment. She set the bags down near the bar, right next to Miss Pauling's red cracked vinyl stool.
"This heat is something. I don't know how anyone can stand it. I've never felt anything like this in my homeland," Yana said.
"Hell, I don't know how you took friggin' Siberia, and I been through tons of Boston winters," Scout said.
"You can put more clothes on, but heat like this makes me want to crawl out of my skin," she said. She looked to him, and smiled. "You could snuggle for body heat as well. Deserts don't have this."
"True, though you don't get the cute bikinis that hot places do. At least there's no sand in your shoes, or cactus spines in your ass," Scout said.
Yana laughed, and touched his arm. Miss Pauling's left eye twitched as she saw Yana get closer. Like watching a car crash happen right in front of her, she clenched her jaw as she watched the flirtation unfold right before her eyes. If it wasn't enough to have one desperate Siberian hitting on the mercenaries, now another was after Scout.
"Snow in your boots is just as bad. Besides, I don't think this dress would protect me from a single bear, but this desert is no place for a parka," Yana said.
"Well, there ain't many bears around here, you gotta go north for those, and they're a shitty team, too," Scout said.
"True, true," Yana said. She couldn't keep herself from giggling. She patted Scout on the arm again, and Miss Pauling felt a throb start about the side of her jaw. She'd broken fingers for less.
"You're so very witty! I really like that," Yana said.
Scout, of course, drank in the praise. He leaned back, cocksure and smug in that egotistical way he'd practically perfected. "Hey, thanks for noticin'! I try to always have perfect quips for when someone makes a movie out of my awesome life. And is there ever great fodder. It's really only a matter of time before that director guy comes back and films me."
"Not likely," Miss Pauling muttered, but neither of them heard her, they were too wrapped up in talking to each other. She might as well not even be there, with all the stupid flirting, and Yana laughing. And of course Scout would just jump at any attention and reason to talk on.
"Oh, you should tell me all about it. But that is not what I came here for. Scout, I need you to help me with the decorations. Some are falling down in the back room," she said. She looked up at him through her freakishly long lashes, the dark, thick type which never needed mascara, and were so uncommon in blonds.
"Well, shit. I thought I stapled enough. I got this," Scout said. He turned to Miss Pauling. "You comin'? I bet you have a mean staplegun."
"Oh no, she's far too busy. It should be just us," Yana said. Miss Pauling's jaw twitched as she saw Yana reach towards Scout's arm again.
"Yeah, you're right. She's always busy. That's our Miss Pauling, always workin'," Scout said.
Miss Pauling didn't reply, but Yana caught his attention before Scout could notice her grimace. She peeled the wrapper off of his beer. A broken bottle could work as a makeshift weapon, though she preferred her gun. Much more efficient, and less messy. She tightened her grip on the bottle as she heard Yana's laughter down the hall.
Miss Pauling rubbed at her forehead. What the hell was she thinking? Of course, she and Scout technically weren't dating. There'd been those moments when she thought they would die, and the moments before the robot war when they'd flirted over dead bodies and eaten cold chicken under the stars. He'd pushed aside her hair and stuttered out a compliment, leaving greasy traces with his fingerprints. And for once, she hadn't even minded.
That was what she got for giving him a second glance. He was a notorious flirt, and a egotistical liar. What had she expected? For him to suddenly give up all of the other girls and wait for her?
That was a long time ago, a voice reminded her, and you haven't even so much as had a snack with him since then. Did you really think he'd wait forever like he said? He exaggerates everything. To him, two months would be forever, and it's already been two years.
Miss Pauling sighed and set the wine bottle aside. She moved towards the hall, which happened to be the same way towards the back room, and the ladies restroom. Miss Pauling reminded herself that she was not following them, she was going to the bathroom to check her lipstick.
The air was filled with stale potpourri as she closed the bathroom door behind her. The lighting was even worse in here, so much that she had to squint to see her reflection. She scuffed her shoe across the ripped shag carpet, a color she couldn't quite say in this light. She pulled out her lipstick. In the mirror, it looked like she'd sucked on a lemon. She'd chewed off half her lipstick, and her teeth were edged in red. She rubbed away the lipstick with her finger. At least it wasn't a spinach leaf stuck to her teeth.
She tried to gargle away the bitterness aftertaste of the lipstick, but she could see it all too clear when she caught sight of herself in the mirror again.
What do you expect? You didn't take the chance.
It was one thing getting an I told you so speech from parents or friends. It was another when it was her own conscience was giving her that.
"I thought I'd murdered you by now," she muttered.
But all the alcohol and bodies hadn't made this reason and regret leave her.
Not that she particularly had friends. She had coworkers, and she had a boy who wasn't quite hers, but wanted to be. One who had fought so hard to be by her side, stealing a damn briefcase, and taking her hand as they flung themselves into what surely would be death, what surely would be that end, with certain regrets passing her mind with the sounds of flames.
Or, at least she had.
She put the lipstick back to the abyss of many things, from gum to pills and ammo at the bottom of her purse. She paused as she heard them further down the hall. Scout's voice was amplified by echoes. She pushed her back to the wall and inched closer to the edge.
"–Yeah, and that isn't even the best thing about Miss Pauling-"
Yana laughed. "You're so smitten! You can't even spend two seconds without talking about Miss Pauling this, Miss Pauling that, Miss Pauling literally hangs the stars in the skies---and your eyes. That's such a good line, I should write it down."
There was a rustle, as she presumably looked around in her large leather purse, that looked large enough to kill someone with. Knowing Yana, she probably could.
"You're writin' now? That's neato," Scout said.
"The winters in Siberia were so very long, and Misha could only send so many books back. I read The works of Jane Austen and The Highland's Prince so many times that the covers fell apart," Yana said. She sighed dreamily, and there was a swishing noise, as if she'd spun around, or perhaps embraced someone? Miss Pauling moved closer along the wall to see.
"I've practically memorized them. I liked MacGregor a bit better than Mr. Knightley, I have to admit," Yana said mischievously.
Scout chuckled, though she honestly doubted he'd read either book.
"You didn't even notice how much I was flirting with you. I even read many romance novels to perfect my---how do you say it? My 'flirt game,'" she said.
"Oh yeah, that. I'm flattered and all, but it's just her for me. I ain't doin' that life anymore. I know this is really hard for you, and it'll take probably at least a decade to stop mournin' the loss--"
"I'm fine, really," Yana said flatly.
"Oh, that's good! I wouldn't want to have the big guy on my case for accidentally breakin' both his sister's hearts forever--"
"She's just fine as well," Yana said.
"---but Miss Pauling is the only girl for me. That feels really good to say. I really want to scream it from the hills, but I gotta wait on her, you know?"
Miss Pauling's heartbeat sped up as she tried to process the words. Her mind replayed the scene, and it came to her that Scout had only had been friendly, not flirty, at least by his standards. He hadn't made a single come on, or even one little flex.
"But you really love her, yes? Then why aren't you together?" Yana said.
Scout didn't respond immediately. She heard a rustle of clothing that after her knee-jerk surge of jealousy, she realized was probably pacing, not him pulling his shirt off.
"That's...complicated, I guess. Probably lots due to work. But I've been waitin' for her! I ain't even so much as chased as another girl, and man have they been throwin' themselves at me."
"I'm sure they have," Yana said dryly.
She would've bet money that Yana was rolling her eyes too.
" And love...I don't know, that seems like it ain't enough. There's love songs all over and guys who use that kind of thing just to get some that night. I mean I never stooped that low, but they're out there. She's just...more. More than words can describe. And I describe them anyways, because those words are all I got, even if I stutter and make a fool of myself again, because maybe, just maybe, I can get through to her." Scout trailed off, and laughed to himself, though it sounded almost rueful.
"Then perhaps you need to tell her again?" Yana said.
"I have! Trust me, no shortage of talkin' to her. I definitely thought we had this moment around that bread monster thing, when we both thought we were goin' to kick it for good, and afterwords, but then this whole robot thing came and we ain't been barely spendin' time together at all. Every time I try and talk to her, she seems pissed at me."
"Hmm. I think I need to read more novels to understand this one. For a moment, I thought it might be a Lizzy Bennet situation, and it certainly isn't a Mansfield Park situation..."
She heard a rustling, and then Yana let out an audible gasp.
"Perhaps, it's Persuasion! Yes, yes, it must be that! She was persuaded by something, or someone near to her to give up her true love. Someone convinced her that you both were not a good match. She regrets it deeply, but for some reason, she kept to this person, and even ignored her own heart. Oh, that's so sad, that she would be the Anne of all the heroines to be."
"So, how do I fix this?" Scout said desperately.
"Seemingly get engaged to someone years later, causing her to realize her feelings, then one day send her a letter saying you loved her all along and that you were never really engaged," Yana said. Her voice had gone dreamy at the mention of the books.
"What? I don't wanna fake marry anybody! Ain't there any other options?"
"Well, the MacGregor option is to go through time for her and fight two dragons for her name," Yana said.
"That's more a Demoman thing," he said.
"....You don't say. I really need to be better acquainted with him." She heard more rustling, then Yana laughed. "We haven't gotten much decorating done at all. You've talked, talked, talked and Zhanna will skin us for ruining her party."
"Oh, crap. Hand me that staple gun, would you?"
Her back to the wall, Miss Pauling felt a rush in her chest. She rested her palm at her heart. She wished she could have captured those words and rewound them, listened to them many, many times over. But memories would have to suffice. She counted a few seconds to steady her breath. She rapped her knuckles on the open door. Both Yana and Scout turned towards her. His face lit up when he saw her.
"Miss P! There you are! You goin' to help us finish this decoratin'?"
"Actually, no. Yana, can you finish this up for us? I need to discuss something with Scout. Privately."
"Of course," Yana said cheerfully. She held up the staple gun and waved, as Miss Pauling all but dragged Scout out by the wrist.
"Whoa---"
She craned her neck down the hall. Other than the bathroom, the only remotely private place was the coat room. After a second's thought, she chose the coats. There was a padded folding chair hidden behind many wool coats. Scout stared at both her and the chair in a completely dumbfounded way.
"What, you got a---"
"Sit," she said.
He obeyed, stunned to momentary silence at her outburst.
She was filled with things she could say, but all of them would come out in anger, so she let her lips do the talking instead.
She climbed up on his lap and kissed him hard enough to push the chair back into the wall at an angle. It was caught just enough that they kept from falling. Which was good, given that she had no plans of stopping anytime soon. He moaned into the kiss. She was slowly unraveled, lost buttons and control and regrets. His hands wandered into her hair, undoing careful work she'd done, or that with every kiss, he was wearing more of her lipstick than she was.
She pulled back only to stroke his face, one deeply intimate moment through all this desperate passion.
"Scout, I don't want to share you. I know I've been distant, but---I really don't want to see you with someone else," she said.
"Miss Pauling... I'm all yours. That's what I've been tellin' you," Scout said.
"Good," she said.
He managed to undo all the buttons on her blouse and her bra with stunning speed. His fingers could work just as fast as the rest of them. She pushed hard against him, grinding her hips to his and shoving the folding chair at an angle.
"Miss Pauling---"
"You'll have to be quiet, unless you want to get caught," she said.
He shivered as she licked his throat. "You'd probably like something like that, wouldn't you? But, don't worry, I'll find a nice soundproof room later, and you can scream all you want. But for now, we're going to have to make do, because this can't wait any longer," she said.
"Oh god, it really can't. You're---fuck---" He gasped, his words forgotten as she left a new hickey on his neck. Most people probably would've been satisfied with just a few, but she had every intention of leaving as many as she could manage. The chair wobbled, but she didn't let go.
"Miss Pauling....I think the chair is about to give."
"Then I'll take you on the floor," she said
Scout took a sharp intake of breath. He quickly shifted and turned, to take the brunt of the fall. She reached for him as they fell together. Seconds after the small impact, she pulled at his collar to give her more access to suck at his neck. His moaning was growing louder-enough to likely draw whatever bouncers or bartenders staffed this place. But the sound was too damn good for her to tell him to be quieter.
She ground herself against him, pulling at his shirt until buttons started to rip.
"Miss--Miss Pauling---"
She covered his mouth with hers, and ground against him more. She could feel him hard against her, his moans getting more desperate with the friction on the bulge in his pants. She had no condoms on her, and in the middle of a war, she hadn't exactly gotten a chance to refill her birth control. But she'd be damned if she didn't make him hers right now, right in this damn bar.
She glanced behind her when she thought she heard something down the hall. Just because they'd managed to not be interrupted yet didn't mean it would last. Scout smirked wide as he undid his belt like some kind of burlesque show.
"We can't go that far..." She bit her lower lip to cover a moan. "I don't have any birth control."
"I'm sure we can find something to do," Scout said. His voice was low and husky. Her toes curled as he kissed her once more.
God, he could be damn sexy when he wanted to be.
It was so tempting to go fuck the consequences, I'm riding him anyways. But as tempting as it was, she restrained herself. They'd waited years; she could manage a few more hours.
Speaking of restrained...she knew that kept those extra handcuffs in her purse for a reason. Tonight, she'd have a refilled birth control package even if it took forged signatures, and taking her prescription at gunpoint.
He pushed his hand up her skirt, and slid her panties aside just enough that he could touch her. His mouth covered her right nipple. It was her turn to bite her lip so hard to keep from drawing attention. His tongue was warm, soft and wet. The stimulation made her clit throb, and he hadn't even gotten there yet. Even with her attempts to keep quiet, her breath came out in desperate gasps, with just a tiny little whimper slipping through her attempts at self-control and secrecy. She was trying so hard not to scream, but it'd been so long.
"That's pretty cute...I really want to hear more, like you screamin' my name," Scout whispered. He tugged on her panties, until they were about her knees. He teased her with his thumb, down across her slit and just touching her, but not enough to truly get her off. Her heartbeat was frantic in her chest as she jutted her lips in time with his fingers thrusting inside of her.
"God, you're so warm and wet. You're so soft and friggin' gorgeous. I've wanted this for so long...."
His palm slid across the edge of her labia, flat across her clit. She ground against him, a whimper building up in her throat as he slipped another finger inside her. She heard footsteps, and craned her neck back, fear and a rising arousal all mixed together. A creak, and another door down the hall opened. No more footsteps came.
She really thought they were going to get caught this time, something which only made her skin feel hotter, more sensitive as she writhed against him. She never knew she was like that though with her line of work and lack of time, she'd have a chance to enjoy the risk of fucking around in public quite a bit.
Even in her almost-orgasm incoherence, she kept touching him, feeling him to remind herself that he was hers now.
He was thrusting into her just right. His four fingers filling her up in the best way. She was half-lidded, and closer to an orgasm faster than she'd ever had. Pressure was building up inside her, throbbing and perfect. She stopped his stream of words with her lips, just because she couldn't stand another moment not kissing him, another moment regretting about what could happen. Silenced him with a kiss, she was beginning to think this would be a habit with them.
She buried her face against his neck as she came, desperate and pounding with an intensity she hadn't ever known. With a happy sigh she just rested there, so she could hear every breath, every heartbeat. It wasn't until she was well into the afterglow that she spoke.
"Ahhh, damn that was--really something," Miss Pauling said.
"You are one hell of a kisser. Holy shit," Scout said.
"And you have a lot of talents I didn't know about...I'm looking forward to seeing the rest of them," she said. Suggestive and flirty wasn't usually her, and yet around him, this side came out. She couldn't help but laugh a little at the look of shock and awe on his face.
"What?"
"Holy shit. Fuckin' hell yeah." Scout licked his lips, "I can't wait to get you back in my room alone and show you just what I can do. You and me, I'll fuckin' make you forget your name from how many times you'll come."
Considering what had just happened, she had no doubt he could manage it now.
"I'm going to hold you to that, amnesia and all," she said. She started to collect herself. Without a mirror she couldn't tell how badly their making out had mangled her makeup, though she could guess. She started to do up her bra again, much to Scout's disappointment.
"Aww, but I loved the boobs, we were just gettin' acquainted. Can't they stay out a little longer?" Scout said.
"They'll be back for an encore later when we're not, you know, in the middle of a bar. Wait, what time is it?" Miss Pauling checked her watch. Her eyes widened at the numbers--she had to read it twice for the realization to set in.
"Shit, shit, shit! We were supposed to be at the wedding over a half hour ago. The service might already be over!" She redid the rest of the buttons on her blouse, only to find out that in her haste, she'd left an uneven gap.
He let out a long groan. "We're stoppin' like this? Are you tryin' to kill me from blue balls or somethin'?"
He was covered in hickies and her lipstick, his hands still wet from her juices, smelling thick of musk. Also his usual cheap cologne had completely been overwhelmed like hers. He couldn't be more thoroughly claimed as hers if he had a Property of Pauling: Do not touch! written in her lipstick on his forehead and tattooed on his ass.
Which, come to think of it, wasn't a bad idea.
"Zhanna is going to kill us," Miss Pauling said.
"Hate to break it to you, Miss Pauling, but she'd probably prefer gettin' married without you there," Scout said.
"Either that or hate me for not coming even when she didn't want me to come. Befriending her is a lost cause. I never was good at friendship, anyways. Killing people, burying people in shallow graves, those are things I can do. Girl talk? I can't do that sort of thing," Miss Pauling said.
"Pretty sure her girl talk would involve how many bears she punched today, and how many communists she and Soldier killed," Scout said.
"Good point. I'm sure she'll get along wonderfully with Mags," she said.
"I mean, I'll be your friend---but not your friend friend, like your boyfriend, you feel me? You wouldn't ever be alone or lonely, but not on the kind of friend who doesn't get to do stuff like this," Scout said. The further he went, the more he tripped on his attempted declaration. He'd be well into ums and uhs, and maybe even into desperate anecdotes to try and distract her. But his sincerity was charming.
"I know. Or, I mean I should've known. I just started seeing red for a minute there...and green. It was a lot of colors, okay," she said.
"Oh god, you were jealous? I can't believe it!" He lifted up his hand, his momentary triumph.
Miss Pauling shook her head. "Really, Scout?"
"Fuckin' A, I wanna celebrate this. You were totally wantin' to claw some eyes out for me." He laughed, giddy, and shook his head. "I mean, damn fuckin' finally."
She smiled, just a little at his outburst. Underneath the bravado, he could actually be really cute.
When given the choice between going to the wedding of someone she wasn't remotely fond of, yet could not kill and bury in a shallow grave in the desert and getting to see what Scout's face looked like when he came, the choice wasn't even remotely difficult.
"You know what, screw her. I don't want to go to her wedding anyways. Now, let's do something about saving you from blue balls...."
Scout was all too happy to help Miss Pauling out of her clothes again.
*
Miss Pauling had reapplied her own makeup, but Scout had done little but wash his hands. He kept her lipstick on his collar, and all over his face like a badge of honor. He had never looked more satisfied with himself. After that orgasm, she'd be willing to stroke his ego.
And more than that, once they had a little more times to themselves.
"Like what I've done with myself? or I should say with you?" Scout smugly smoothed his hair back.
"I do, but it needs just a little something," she said.
She pulled out her perfume from her purse, and doused him in a few spritzes. Only once her perfume surrounded him like a force field was she satisfied.
"Jeez, people in France are goin' to be able to smell me," Scout said.
"Exactly as planned," she said.
They came out together, Miss Pauling just a little awkward. She wasn't quite so used to flaunting her sex life, then again until a few minutes ago, she hadn't had one in the last decade, so it'd been kind of a moot point. The bar was mostly empty, save for Demoman at the far end, and Yana fiddling with a bouquet near the hallway.
Yana brightened at the sight of them. "Hey, there you are! It must have worked! It didn't even take a decade and proposing marriage to someone else to get her."
"And I sure am glad about that. I mean I'd wait as long as it took, yeah, but offerin' marriage to someone else? That just sounds wrong. The only one who should be goin' down the aisle with me is Miss Pauling."
"That's so sweet. Speaking of aisles, and weddings, the wedding is already over. I took many pictures," Yana said. She held up a camera. "Though, I do not know much about developing film. I must find a place for that."
"They're all over. In fact, Spy will do it for free," she said.
Though it usually took blackmailing and threats to get him to not keep his own copies for blackmailing and threat making purposes. She figured the wedding probably wouldn't get them implicated in international conspiracies, though knowing Soldier, it might get them implicated in murder cases.
"Yeah, I bet it was great. We were goin' to go, but then we had to go find somethin'," Scout said. Scout pulled at his collar, only revealing more triumphant hickies across his neck. She hadn't quite gotten to give him enough love bite bruises as she wanted, but the very large ones across his neck got the message across.
And she could always fix it so he was utterly covered in love bruises tonight.
Yana reached out to pat his arm. "I'm so glad for you."
Miss Pauling felt hairs at the back of her neck stand up. She moved from the bar and entwined her arm with Scout's, effectively pushing Yana's hand away.
"Aww, Miss P, you know you're all I want. I mean, it's hot as hell, but you don't gotta worry at all," Scout said.
"Russian women keep throwing themselves at you. I'm going to wage a cold war of my own at this rate," Miss Pauling said from between clenched teeth.
"I'll say no to all of them, say I'm taken. All the millions of girls who want a piece of this, I'll tell 'em no, no, no, only Pauling for me," Scout said.
"That's so wonderful. I'm glad both of you finally started realizing things. You're very welcome," she laughed a bit at the last part. Her mouth was obscured and muffled by the edge of the bouquet.
"For the record, even if this worked, it's not a good idea to throw yourself at other people's boyfriends just to make a point," Miss Pauling said.
Scout broke into a big smile when she said the 'b' word.
Yana moved the bouquet away, revealing a big smile. "No, this is a good thing! It worked. See, we were cloistered away for so long in that cabin, but brother Misha, he sent us forbidden English books. Of course, we read our Tolstoy, but he gave us so much more. We read them until the pages fell apart. I so loved Emma as a protagonist, though my sisters hated her. The minute I came here, I know my time had come. And here it is, I've fixed my first match," Yana said.
"You do know that the whole point of Emma was that her matchmaking was harmful and immature, right?" Miss Pauling said dryly.
"Oh, but I've learned from her mistakes. Speaking of which, I've got another match to make," she said. She walked on down the bar.
"Excuse me, bartender, I'd like to buy that man a drink," she said.
She slipped up beside Demoman and leaned on the counter. She toyed with her blond hair, and leaned her knees in towards his legs, until they almost touched.
"You look like pure royalty, like a hero right out of legends. Tell me, have you ever punched a bear?"
Demoman smiled. "Nice of ye to notice, lassie. I've fought wizards and ghosts, but no bears. Scotland doesn't have a lot of them."
"You know, I could give you some pointers," Yana said.
"Ye don't say?" Demoman said.
"Well, that's a disaster waiting to happen," Miss Pauling said under her breath.
Scout and Miss Pauling walked on, past the new match Yana was working her hardest to make.
"Y'know, she might be onto somethin'," Scout said.
"If she does it as wrongheaded as she did with us, she'll be summoning some awful cursed creature by accident, and they'll fall in love amid an inter-dimensional war Demoman started by belching at the wrong time," Miss Pauling said.
"Orrr, A zombie bear!" Scout said with flourish.
"God, I hope not," Miss Pauling said.
"It could be fun," Scout said.
"They'll be on their own with fighting those zombie bears. Because we've got some catching up to do," she said.
Scout smiled, and squeezed her hand. "Miss Pauling... We're finally here. Over six years, and I didn't even have to fake marry anybody to do it. Though, I did punch a few bears in the process."
"Well, I'm glad for that. I'd have to spring you from your fake wedding, and then bury all the witnesses."
"Actually, that sounds kind of cool. Like some James Bond thing. Think we could rent a dress and do it, just you and me?"
"Maybe later. If I remember right, somebody is supposed to be giving me amnesia pretty soon," she said.
He leaned down to kiss her. And in that moment she did have a kind of forgetting. All the jealousy and unhappiness she had been feeling faded away.
