fic: Poker Face

[bonnefois]

Title: Poker Face
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Miss Pauling/Scout
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 4730
Summary: When the air-conditioners go out on a record breaking hot day, Scout plays Strip Solitaire to pass the time. Much to his surprise, Miss Pauling decides to join him.
Author's note tf2promptfest: Any/any - playing strip poker

For Sarah.




The common room was empty. The walls once had looked like Swiss cheese, but they'd actually had something fixed here for once, just in time for the worst heat wave imaginable with a side of broken generators and no air to slide on. The table had been wrecked when Soldier was convinced the communists were attacking in the middle of the night, so all Scout had was one of those metal folding chairs, and a little formica table with cracked red top.

Stacks of cards filled the top. Scout drew the last card, only to find he sure as hell wasn't about to make it with this line up.

"Well, time to get naked," Scout said.

He pulled off his shirt just as she stepped in, which was accidental perfect timing.

"Is the freezer in here working?" She was carrying a big metal bucket of what sounded like ice. Maybe there was something in the ice, he was having a hard time focusing on ice with her face so flushed and her dark hair messy from humidity and all stuck to her face.

Scout leaned back, just to show a little more of his ripped everything, from his biceps to his pecs to....he actually didn't know anymore muscle names after that. He'd have to go ask Doc what they were called so he could learn to flex them.

"Yeah, Eng, he's got generators stocked so he never has to ever drink warm beer. And those generators? They're like friggin' giant robots of doom generators, they'll probably outlast friggin' humanity."

"Good." Miss Pauling lifted one brow as she looked him over. He liked to think that she was so shocked by his mad muscles and hotness that she couldn't help but look incredulous. Like this much hotness on one man, how is this possible? With Mann Up and BONK, anything is possible! For some reason, all the mental situations where Miss Pauling finally realized she was desperately in love with him sounded like Mann co. ads.

"Ahem...Scout, what exactly are you doing?" she said.

"Strip Solitaire, of course. You want me to get that?"

"I can carry it," she said.

"Sure, you can, but it'd probably hurt your back like hell tomorrow," Scout said.

She thought for a moment, and then set the bucket down. See, with him, pride would've always won over common sense, but Miss Pauling was smart and stuff. Nobody had to tell her not to set the zoo on fire.

Scout stood up as sensually as possible. If he could've flexed several of his abs muscles as he did, he would've. His goal was to be able to flex her name on his perfect body, but so far, it wasn't as easy as burping the alphabet.

He meant to do it all suave like. Yeah, Miss Pauling, I'm super strong. This? This is nothing for me. If I wasn't also super fast and flexible, I'd be carryin' around the same kind of gun Heavy does. I'd even be doin' flips while holdin' it, because I'm just that good. Did I mention how fast I was? Like incredibly fast. Speaking of which--

Unfortunately, the thing was damn heavy. He nearly teetered and dropped it when he lifted it. But Scout worked quick to make it look like he had meant to do it. How had she even lugged the thing? Not that he'd complain, because then that'd mean Miss Pauling was stronger than him. Maybe way stronger than him.

Which was actually pretty hot, come to think of it.

"Geez, why you carryin' somethin' like this? You should've made Old man Hale do it, or maybe a wild bear? It's no good if you wrench your back out! The whole place will fall apart without you here!"

"I'll be okay," Miss Pauling said. He noticed she was rubbing her arms, though.

"Next time somebody asks you to carry somethin' heavy, ask me, okay? I mean it, I don't want you gettin' too sore. You got better things to do than liftin' stuff around. Brainy things," Scout said.

"Thank you. Could you put it over by the couch?"

"The couch? Not the fridge?" But she didn't give anymore details, so Scout just took her orders. He figured whatever Miss Pauling wanted, she'd get.

Scout had laid out a big couch cover and several sheets over the old thing, until it was almost decent. It was made of rough material, because Mann co. didn't believe in comfort or anything, even the frigging couches had to be like bears to be fought. Well, that and because he'd seen Soldier sitting naked on the damn thing.

Scout finally let out a gasping breath, convincing himself along the way that she couldn't hear him swearing and grunting, because she was in the other room. The room which had no door, just an opening blown apart by Soldier in the same night he'd ruined the table, and she could probably even see him from where she was sitting.

Eh, she was probably too blinded by his magnificent shirtless body to notice, anyways.

"I ain't winded. It wasn't heavy at all. I'm just... pantin'...from the heat, you know. It's friggin' hot out here," Scout said.

If he'd been more on his game, he'd have said actually, I lied, I'm pantin' because you're so friggin' hot, as hot as I am. By the way, wanna see my pecs dance?

She motioned to his cards. "Isn't that more of a two-person game, and usually done with poker?"

"TV's broke, cooling's down, too hot to move. I gotta get naked or I'll shrivel up and die, so I might as well have fun along the way. Besides, who am I goin' to ask, the guys?" Scout grimaced. The guys were like brothers to him. The thought of having them play strip poker with him was like walking in on his Ma being romantic with some guy.

She reached for the cards. "I'll deal."

It took his brain a few seconds to realize what had just happened. It was like a pinball buzzing through his brains. Miss Pauling, naked, here? Miss Pauling, getting naked, with me?

Scout pinched his cheek just to make sure it wasn't a mirage. When she didn't disappear, he pinched himself again, just to be sure. Those mirages were seriously tricky. If a guy wasn't careful, he'd find himself stuck in Las Vegas, married to a cocktail waitress, and with a new ass tattoo. Not that it'd happened to him personally, but Demoman had told him plenty about Vegas.

"I don't want to move anymore, either," she said.

Scout sat down so quickly that he was surprised the chair didn't topple. "I'm great at cards. A total cardshark. I'll just keep my shirt off as a handicap," Scout said. Actually, come to think of it, he should put his shirt on as a handicap, as she'd be too distracted and wanting to lick his chest to play. But like hell he was putting his shirt on again. Fair was fair, he lost that game of Strip Solitaire, and he had to get naked.

"Uh-huh," Miss Pauling said. She didn't look up from her cards. Scout hurriedly grabbed up his own cards. He tried to remember poker from all those other card games, but his brain was still stuck on Miss Pauling, naked that he could barely even focus.

Sweat dripped down the hollow of her neck. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe she'd spilled some of the ice around. Either way, her purple dress clung to every curve.

As much as Scout tried to be a gentleman and not stare, he couldn't remember where the safe point was. They didn't teach him that in high school. Or maybe they did and he just played hooky that day. That'd be about his luck.

Eye contact, maybe? But with those gorgeous green eyes and the way her glasses fell down her nose, he wasn't exactly less turned on. But maybe it was a more gentlemanly turned on. He wasn't sure how gentlemanly turned on was better. Did it mean his dick had a top hat and monocle or something? Was it the snooty dick salute? Now this is what they needed to be teaching in college.

Not that he'd ever gone, anyways. He was a graduate of the school of hard knocks, even if he'd dropped out of high school. He had to ask somebody about this not being a douche stuff. The problem was, a lot of his coworkers were complete douchebag assholes. Maybe they had a video series. How To Not Be A Complete Giant Douchebag Asshole And Make Classy And Amazing Girls Like You.

She laid down some cards, and Scout couldn't stop admiring those long, elegant fingers. Imagine how good they would feel entwined in his own... Holding hands at a date place. She'd probably even know what a soup spoon was.

"Earth to Scout. Scout, are you dying from heat over there?"

"What?" Scout was startled back from his detailed thoughts of future dates and soup spoons.

"I told you, it's your turn."

Scout tried to stare at his cards, but his brain was on permanent Miss Pauling is here alert. He couldn't remember the rules. He had a couple queens. Was that good? Speaking of queens, Miss Pauling sure as hell was like some hot ruler over them. She should have some kind of crown. But the only ones he'd seen were the ones at Burger King lately.

"Scout...." she said.

Scout quickly laid down some cards. In retrospect, he probably should've actually looked at them.

"You've never played poker, have you? Are the cards you're good at Go Fish?"

"Hey, the heat fried my brains," Scout said. "And for the record, I'm great at Go Fish. I can play a mean game of Solitaire and Gin Rummy, too."

"Anyways, have a Full Horse," she said.

"Full Horse?" Scout said.

"It's like a Full House, but better," Miss Pauling said.

"Shit, I didn't even know that was a thing." He rose up to undo his belt.

"Uh-uh. A full means you have to take twice as much off," Miss Pauling said.

Scout broke into a grin. Man, he loved losing. "Anythin' for you, Miss Pauling!"

Scout rose up like he was opening at a burlesque show. It would've been a whole lot sexier if he hadn't almost tripped, due to his pants frigging sticking to his ass from the heat, but he figured he got the sexy message across. She was kicking his ass to the curb and damn if he didn't love it. God, it was just unfair how wonderful this woman was.

She laid down another set of clothes-destroying cards. "What were you saying about being great at cards?" Miss Pauling said.

"Lady luck ain't with me today. I think she likes you better...not that I blame her," he said.

He squinted at the cards. He couldn't recognize it as any poker play he'd ever seen. "This another Full Horse? Or a special kind of Full Horse, like a Full Unicorn or somethin'?"

"It's a Full Take Your Clothes Off," she said. "Now, strip."

"That's my favorite card dealin'. Now, I need to get one of those," Scout said. Socks off, he had nothing but a pair of boxers with BONK all over them. He crossed his arms, in a pose he liked to think of as a Superhero pose.

Miss Pauling looked him over slowly. He couldn't quite read her expression, but that only made her more interesting. Like a puzzle, or a sexy rubix cube he just couldn't quite figure out.

"It isn't luck, Scout."

"C'mon, cards is all luck. Luck of the draw, lady luck, that kind of stuff."

"I literally just laid cards down and told you they were winning. There's no such play as a 'Full Horse' and there sure as hell isn't a 'Get Naked Now' play in any card game."

"I don't know, your 'Get Naked Now' play worked pretty well. I think you got a great idea. It could catch on," Scout said.

She chuckled. "Maybe."

This wasn't even cheating, come to think of it. She'd just taken one hell of a shortcut to get him naked. Man, he liked her more and more. It turned out, they had super similar interests: him not having any clothes on.

He hadn't even won a single play, so here he was, barely with his BONK boxers on and she was fully clothed. He'd really thought it'd go differently. She leaned in across the table, and he could catch the scent of her perfume, sweet and tangy in a way that made him want to bury his face in her hair and just breathe the scent of her in.

Of course he wanted to suck her tits and fuck her senseless, but with Miss Pauling he wanted to take her to ice cream places first. He wanted to give her flowers and cuddle. He wanted to remember her name and take her out. Okay, he'd have to actually learn her name before he remembered it, but hopefully that would be in the steps.

"Even if we'd been playing for real, you would've lost. You have a horrible poker face."

"The guys say that too, but I figured they were just pullin' my leg," Scout said. He leaned back to give her a better view of the goods. And by the goods, he meant everything because everything about him was good.

"Well, it's all good. I got to make your day better, because damn, who wouldn't have a better day with some of this, eh?" He flexed just for her. "Also, I got to get naked."

Miss Pauling sighed. It took him a second to realize that it wasn't for him. She tried to push her hair out of her face, but it just fell back down again.

"It's too damn hot," she said.

"Hell yeah, it is. And by hell yeah, I mean it feels like we're right in the middle of a devil's barbeque," Scout said.

"Hmmm," she said. Miss Pauling glanced behind her. Nothing but the one, wimpy fan near the front door, which was basically just moving hot air around.

"Obviously the heat has melted my brain and common sense." She fixed her gaze on him now, in a way which was surprisingly intense. Miss Pauling was the kind of girl who could completely cut a guy down with a glare or an eye roll. Except this time, she wasn't glaring at him.

"Honestly, I want nothing more than to be stripped down and rubbed with ice cubes, and maybe eat ice cream later. Now, are you going to do that for me, or are you all talk?"

Scout could only gape. Had this really happened? He pinched himself, and Miss Pauling was still in front of him.

"Am I hallucinatin' from the heat, and are you goin' to slap me when I come back with the ice cubes? I heard you right, right?"

"That depends. What did I just say?"

"That you--you want me to--the ice cubes and...."

He was tripping on words. Usually he could make this, but even the images were making him damn hard. It was difficult to think with so little blood in his brain.

Miss Pauling got up. For a panicked second, he wondered if he had heard wrong, and he'd somehow walked naked into a staff meeting again. But, no, she came straight for him, and climbed up in his lap. His brain was like a siren blaring Miss Pauling's on my lap, high alert, I repeat Miss Pauling's on my lap and...holy crap, that sweet ass of hers is right against my dick!

She ran her hand up his chest. He didn't even care about the weight of the heat anymore. The only weight he wanted to care was her on top of him.

"You never hide any of your feelings. You've got such an awful poker face..still, it's kind of cute," She said softly.

"Miss Pauling?" he said, hating how his voice had gone up a notch.

He let out a long gasp as she leaned her weight on him. Her lips were soft against his as she kissed him, grinding her body against his groin. Sure, he'd been kissed before. But it was nothing like this. Half-drunken mutual groping at the chicken joint was nothing like her. The scent of her, the tangy sweet heat of her lips against his, he was so far gone, and Scout didn't even care about holding back or being cool.

"This time, there's no need for cards," she said.

He slowly undid the buttons at her neck. His hands slipped under her dress and pushed it up to her hips. His fingertips rubbed over the roughness of a thigh holster.

She pulled away. "Oops, should've removed that before I started."

She reached down and pulled out a damn long knife, and a gun, and laid them on the table.

Holy shit, that was like some James Bond level coolness.

"Dang," he muttered. Between the messed up cards, and the weapons, it looked like some mafia card game gone wrong. Except in his case, it'd gone oh so right.

Instead of leaning down to kiss him again, Miss Pauling climbed off him, and started to walk away.

"Miss Pauling? Wait, did I--"

She glanced back. Little wisps of dark hair had come undone from her bun, and framed her face. "Are you coming?" she said.

"Yeah, I'm comin' all right," Scout said. And soon, so will you, Scout thought.

He followed her out further, back to where he'd set that bucket.

She laid down on the couch, with nothing but matching bra and underwear left on. Even flush-faced, and slightly sticky, she glanced at him like a queen waiting for some adoration. Scout stood over her, just to have a moment to take in everything. Fantastic curves, beautiful hair and green eyes. Just this close was better than any pin up, any fantasy, or any quick hot and heavy session behind the chicken joint. And he'd only barely begun.

You can't mess this up, Scout. She ain't the kind to give anybody second chances. Remember: ladies first.

Scout knelt down, because queens like Miss Pauling deserved to be spoiled big time. He picked up an ice cube from the bucket, and slowly ran it up her stomach. She let out a little shivery gasp, which turned into a moan as it melted slightly from the heat of her skin, and water trickled down. Just the sound of her so turned on was going to star in many future wet dreams. He let them rest about her navel, and with cooled fingertips, he reached up to undo her front-latch bra. There was a little bow just on top of the latches.

Her nipples were already hard, either from arousal or cold--he hoped both. He picked up another ice cube from the bucket, and ran it over her breasts.

She gasped, and even more, she gasped his name. Well, Scout, anyways. They weren't on first-name basis, being super top secret workers and all, but Scout had a dream of one day her screaming his real name too.

Her breasts were full, and filled his hands so wonderfully, he could've just stayed there for hours, just touching her, just kissing her everywhere. He bent down to lick across the deep red nipples, that grew even harder under his touch.

Her skin so warm, and such a contrast to his chilly hands. He made circles with the ice cube, about her hard, deep red nipples. Cool drops of water dripped down her breasts, to linger over her scarred stomach. He traced a long white scar, like a knife wound. He wanted to ask, but he bit his tongue. She wouldn't even tell him her first name.

He slowly climbed up onto the couch. She bent her legs to make room as he bent down between her thighs. Her inner thigh trembled as he licked one side, and grazed the other with a melting ice cube. He slipped one more ice cube into his mouth as he took that first, tentative lick to the soft folds. Curls tickled against his cheeks as he started a rhythm. He was going to make her scream before the was all over.

He groaned as he slipped his fingers inside her. She was so warm and soft. The thought of her tight around his cock was almost enough to make him come on just that alone.

Ladies first, he reminded himself. He thrust his fingers into her, in and out, in and out. With a smirk, he slipped two ice cubes inside as well, just to make her throughly cool. She let out the sweetest little whimper, and hiked her hips up.

"Not yet--"

She pushed his head down, and ground her sweet, wet folds against his face. He felt a sharp sting as she gripped his hair.

He only pushed himself up when he felt her throb against him, and heard her moan enough to know he'd done good. For a moment, he just watched her knees tremble, watched her feel real good. Scout smirked. Nothing, not even his own good feelings, was a great as watching Miss Pauling gasp in pleasure, and know it was alll him.

He reached into his pockets, only to find nothing but lint and gum wrappers. No condoms. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten one. She'd never forgive him if he knocked her up. Though, with a tilt of his head, he realized that the thought of Miss Pauling pregnant didn't bring him that usual sense of terror. In fact, the thought of her stomach all rounded and full made his cock throb.

That was new.

He didn't have time to consider why with any other girl the thought of accidental pregnancy was terrifying, but with Miss Pauling it felt right. Not with him so close to everything he'd been wanting for years.

She cleared her throat. "Check the drawer in the table. I usually try and keep those around for the rest of the mercenaries."

Scout broke into a smile when he picked up a little foil packet. Score. Speaking of which, he was about to. A crinkle of foil, a long rolling, and he was so, so ready.

He picked up a handful of ice cubes and let them rest along her stomach, just to hear her shivery moan once more. Then, he pushed her legs apart and gripped her hips. It took some shifting, due to the size of the couch. The moment of contact when he finally slipped into her completely was incredible. Such a warm contrast to his ice-cooled skin. After all his work, and her breasts were so full, with perfect hard nipples against his chest.

In the back of his mind, there was just a tiny worry that he'd crush her, but even though he'd tried to push himself up a bit, she raked her nails down and gripped his ass hard enough to drag him onto her. Until there was nothing but skin and skin, and the icy contrast of some half-melted ice cube against his leg as he thrust.

He was beyond turned on. His mind was swimming with the perfection of them together, the higher, rising pleasure as he thrust into her again and again. Her little rising moans, the feel of her breath, her skin, it was all so intense, he could barely stand it. Sex had never been so good.

He pulled back, and let out a gasp. He couldn't give in now.

She pulled him down back down, until he was deep in her again. She ground her hips against him, and gripped his ass, until he was so deep in her, he saw stars.

"Miss--Pauling--"

She kissed him quiet, and took over. All his worries were settled there against her lips. The rhythm between them increased to almost frantic. The couch springs creaked loudly underneath them. As he came, he kept his eyes open, just to drink in more of her.

He couldn't roll over, unless he flipped onto the floor. But like hell was he crushing her. She was so small. Even if she could keep them all in line, he worried about accidentally hurting her.

So he settled to just lean back, and ride the last of his climax. Even better, he got a great view. God, he'd never met a girl with curves like Miss Pauling. But most of all, he loved her smile, and the way her glasses slid down when she was working to save their asses again.

"That was--definitely worth the wait," Miss Pauling said between breaths. "Oh god, I'm going to need a few minutes."

"You want a drink or somethin'?"

She just rested her head back, eyes closed, in a kind of full-bodied pleasure, and stayed that way for several moments, maybe a whole minute. He lost count of the seconds, because he was way too lost in her.

Damn, score one for himself.

"God, that was incredible. Can we--can we do that again?" Miss Pauling said.

"Right now? I mean, I'd need a sec, though I could go down on you again," Scout said.

"I mean not right right now, but soon. And all the time," she said.

"God, anytime. You're sayin' this won't be a one-time thing?" Scout said hopefully.

"Oh, definitely." She pushed her bangs back. They'd stuck to her forehead. "I finally got this date settled. I swear, it took me years to get enough time to do it. I'm not sure what countries we'd have to take down to get another one, I suppose we could just throw a date at the board. But...anyways. Do you want to go get ice cream?"

"Wait, date--Seriously? I thought you didn't have any time?" Scout said.

"I can't do anything with the generators broken, now can I?" She smiled enigmatically to herself. "Sometimes, when there's a problem, you just have too break things until it works. And I'd call it a date. We are going out for ice cream, after all."

"Ice cream..." Scout said thoughtfully.

Scout was torn. Part of him wanted to kiss and snuggle her in a cute ice cream date. Another part of him wanted to lick ice cream off her naked breasts. Finally, one perfect solution hit him: both! All the ice cream imaginable was the only obvious answer.

"How about.... we go and bring some back for the fridge as well," Scout waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Just imagine what we could do with a tub of ice cream out here."

"You think it'd survive the heat? It's a long ways back, and my scooter doesn't exactly have air conditioning," she said.

"We'll have to go real fast, and put it in one of those bags..." He made a gesture with his hands, as the name escaped him.

"Oh, cold bags. I know Engineer has some around."

"Besides, I can think of tons of things we could do with melted ice cream..." Scout waggled his eye brows suggestively.

"I like how you think," she said. She leaned up and kissed the side of his mouth.

*

Even though the heat was enough to melt a guy's brains out, he held on tight as she drive that little scooter towards Teufort. Nobody was had a bigger grin than him as he opened that door for her, and slipped into the air-conditioned ice cream parlor.

He was on an honest-to-God date, with Miss Pauling. Just that was enough to floor him. Her flats clicked over the white tiles. It was like a white out in here, with black-flecked white counters, and some kind of snow theme. Nobody was even around. The heat was too bad that not even the walk to the ice cream parlor was worth it.

But it was worth it for him, even if he got some nasty sunburn.

She ordered a big banana split, but Scout let her eat first. He couldn't help but just look at her in wonder, his chin balanced on his palm. Even the way she ate was cute. And here she was, on a date with him.

Apparently, Lady Luck had finally smiled his way.