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Entry tags:
fic: Whiskey on Ice, Sunset and Vine
Title: Whiskey on Ice, Sunset and Vine
Series: TF2
Character/Pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling, ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 5350
Author's note:
I usually ignore Tough Break (those were some of the ugliest skins imaginable LOL) but there's a couple lines that coalesced into this.
The title comes from Gorgeous by Taylor Swift...don't @ me, I find it genuinely soothing and nostalgic. Like 2011 kicked me in the face. The song is like Strawberry daiquiris and TFLN and talking late with friends about bizarre AUs.
There is a fanmix here: 8tracks | playmoss
For Sarah.
The bar was so crowded, she could barely make her way through the door. Hell, she could barely see the bartender, a harried looking man with a loose dress shirt, striped and stained. His face was hidden by the low, red light. She pushed past the crowd and slipped underneath a particularly tall man's arms. Sometimes, being short had its advantages.
At the far wall, alongside some rather pathetic looking dartboards that had more than a few bullet holes in them (and she could even guess who had put those there.) was a jukebox. The sound of the The Beatles' I've Just Seen A Face blared over the flashing jukebox. The last jangling guitar gave into another intro she was all too familiar with, given that she heard it blast from Scout's room all the time.
Could it be him? He hadn't gone out to the bar in quite some time. It was just a song, after all. It wasn't like Scout had a patent on liking Tom Jones. He was downright popular.
"Hey there, you looking for a good time?"
She flinched as she felt the pressure of someone's hand on her shoulder. Her first inclination was to reach for her gun. But not here. Too many witnesses, too large a crowd. A gunshot in a room could cause chaos. And chaos when one of the mercenaries was around meant a cover up she didn't have time for.
That wasn't how she wanted to spend the rest of her vacation.
She started to walk away, but he tightened her grip.
"I said--"
She gritted her teeth.
"I heard you. That's why I'm here by myself."
He moved to block her in. She pushed back. "Not interested. Back off."
There were too many witnesses to get out of this in her usual way. She could let him get her alone so she could kill him (preferably slowly.) But he was also twice her size.
Now, she could see the man clearly. He wore a long trench coat like one of the mooks she was always being forced to kill. He had an angular face, and at least one day's growth of dark beard. His hat hid away his face.
Was he an agent of the Administrator sent to test her? Or just genuinely a creep at the bar who liked dressing like a film noir character?
She couldn't kill him, but she could still make him hurt. Before he could say another word, she slammed her knee into his groin. He went down, hard, with a groan of agony.
"Don't you ever touch me again. Hell, don't even get near me, or I'll make you beg for death by the time I'm done with you."
But as she stepped away, she saw another man dressed similarly. Maybe it was the Administrator. She might've been able to get the upper hand on one, but more and she'd be faced with the dilemma of many deaths, or taking on the hitmen alone.
She heard a familiar accent above the din of the bar.
"What do you mean you don't stock Scrumpy? What the hell? I came all the way here to get my pal a drink. Go check in the back or somethin'. He said he always gets it here. Is it out of stock or somethin'? Go-go check or somethin'."
Oh, thank God.
He leaned against the bar, his baseball jacket slightly open to reveal a red shirt, different than his usual. This one had a fade baseball logo on it. For some reason that certainly involved some mercenary or another, his cap and shoes were covered in soot.
Maybe Pyro had tried to 'play tag' with him again.
She ducked past the man's arms, and ran the few steps towards Scout. She threw her arms about him, and clutched tight.
"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"
Scout's face lit up in happy blush. "Miss Pauling? You--you were lookin' for me?"
"Ye--ess, you're exactly the person I was looking for," Miss Pauling said.
His arms closed about her. She'd been thinking of the escape, not of the consequences. And for that moment, it was like the din of the crowded bar faded.
She stepped away. Now was not the time to get distracted.
She chanced a glance back. The man hadn't disappeared, and surveyed them with a cool gaze. His friend, or cohort, at least, looked on as well. She knew and appreciated just how effective a killer Scout was, but he didn't have the room clearing size that some of the other mercenaries had. His constant bragging tended to make people underestimate him. It also led to make sure he was extremely memorable. He would be picked out of a line up immediately, like someone begging to be noticed. In fact, knowing Scout, he'd give away details that were sure to get him noticed. He'd probably even flex during the line up.
He was great for the getaways, though.
His hand still rested protectively at her lower back.
"So--Miss Pauling, you need a drink? Because I can get that bartender back--"
"You know what? This bar isn't doing it for me. Let's go to another one," Miss Pauling said.
"It's the only one in Teufort. You wanna drive out to another town or somethin'? Teufort is kinda in the asscrack of nowhere, so it'll probably be twenty miles for a beer," Scout said.,
"Actually, I think I'll just drink alone after this," she said.
"No need to drink alone, I'll keep you company. And--walk you home of course."
She craned her neck back towards the two men. Good, they'd disappeared into the crowd. At this rate, she might be able to lose them. She let out a sigh of relief as they stepped out into the cold. The wooden doors swung behind them, like some old saloon.
"Thanks for bailing me out back there," she said.
His smile disappeared. "All that back there was just an alibi?"
"No, not an alibi. I haven't committed any crimes in at least a week. I haven't even jaywalked," she said.
"But not real, either," Scout said.
"I was glad to see you," she said. "That wasn't a lie...a front, or an alibi."
Scout pulled his cap down. She could still see his grim smile. "Heh... I'll take what I can get," Scout said.
She quickly changed the subject.
"Is Demoman going to be okay back there?"
"Oh, we've ditched each other plenty of times. He'll understand."
"Ah, of course. Girl chasing," she said tensely. So much for him being a reformed ladies man.
"What? no! I ain't done that in ages. Demo and I were just gettin' a beer together," Scout said. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"On Ladies night?" she said.
"He was really cut up about this person he's been seein'. He just needed some moral support!"
"And all you were going to do was get him beer?" she said.
"Scrumpy, yeah," Scout said.
Technically, she supposed she didn't have anything to say. Their maybe had been so long ago. Any other person would've given up on her long ago. And here she was on the last day of her break.
"..So, how's your vacation been goin'?" Scout said.
"Okay, I guess," she said. She rubbed the backs of her arms. It didn't beat back the cold of the night.
"Here--just a second, lemme--" Scout shrugged off his jacket. A red baseball jacket with Boston across the front in blue, and the logo of his favorite team. "Yeah, here."
"What about you?" she said.
"Me? I come from Boston. This ain't nothin'."
She pulled the jacket around her. It had a sweet, even saccharine odor. Spilled bubble gum and soda. She buried her face into the collar, until the rough material brushed across her lips. He'd probably get a kick out of her smudged lipstick on his coat.
Had he noticed? It was too dark, she couldn't tell.
"So--about that vacation--It's just okay? You been waitin' for this for ages," Scout said.
"I suppose it could go better," she said.
"You been attacked by aliens? Wizards?" Scout said.
"No, just drunken men."
"Wait? Somebody was after you?" Scout clenched his fist. "Tell me which one, I'll knock his teeth in. I swear it, I'll make him pay!"
"That's sweet, but I'd rather get the pleasure of killing him myself," she said.
Scout grinned. "Ooh, you goin' to cover him in honey and dig him in an anthill?"
"I was thinking flaying could work, though impaling works."
Scout let out a whistle. "Remind me not not to get on your to-kill list. That' brutal. I was just goin' to do an old fashioned beatin' skull in. A classic," she said.
"If you want to keep off my to-kill list, you should really stop taking things. The ear piece is understandable as it's on your hat and easily forgotten, but you stole a briefcase after hours."
"Desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides, it worked, didn't it?" Scout said.
That was debatable. He'd talked to her, there'd been definite flirting, but they still hadn't had that date. And the longer that date didn't happen, the more all the things that could go wrong came to mind. Really, on the edge of death it had made sense, but now--where would she find the time?
Even if it'd felt good. Even if even just wearing his coat drained so much stress of the day.
She glanced back. There was no hint of the man. Maybe he'd not been a pair of hitmen after all, but just two friends with questionable fashion choices. Even on her vacation, the paranoia in the back of her head lingered. She could have three kids in the suburbs and she'd still be looking for the red dot of a sniper's sight on her wall, and the gun barrel.
(In her future vision, the two children were unmistakable. Covered in dirt with grey eyes and chatting about Baseball. He even snuck into her metaphors.)
He cleared his throat. "Look, you don't gotta go to the meat market alone. I'll get you a drink. Bartenders can't ignore me, I just yell louder. You don't gotta worry about any creeps goin' after you ever again. Unless they're hired goons. but even then, I'll make sure you don't ever gotta face them alone."
She knew very well how good at yelling Scout was. And just how well he could back her up in a tough fight.
"It's all right. I won't have time to go out to bars after this," she said.
"Oh yeah, your job thing," Scout said.
"Yeah..." she chuckled as she began to relate what had happened.
"I tried a book club and I couldn't get into the book. I went to this thing called a 'key party' but they kept trying to take my keys so I just left. I guess my attempts at having a vacation keep going awry."
Scout flinched at that, and gave her an alarmed glance. "A--key party? Uh...Miss Pauling--you're into that?"
"Why are you looking at me like that? Wait...is it something weird?"
"So, you didn't know what it was? I mean, if you were into it, it'd be okay with me, but--Didn't think you were the type."
"If it's so bad, then how do you know what it is?" She let out a sigh and shook her head, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."
"Whoa, whoa, I ain't gone to one firsthand. I ain't into that kind stuff. Not anymore, anyways. There's someone I got my eye on."
Words couldn't express her relief. But her blush could. Thankfully, he wasn't looking at her for once. Scout glanced back, towards the bar they'd left, and shook his head.
"But...Demo told me. It's where he met Medic's Wife. She's a swinger, apparently. Demo said she was a beard, though I didn't get how a chick could be a beard. Like did Medic marry the Bearded lady from a circus or somethin'?"
"A swinger? So it was a dancing party?"
"Probably had some of that, but Demo said it meant people who swing around in relationships, if you know what i mean."
"So that means... dancing?" she said.
"Demo said you put the keys in a bowl, somebody else picks 'em up and you go home with whoever you get."
Miss Pauling's cheeks turned an even brighter pink. "Wh-what? I'm glad I left early, then."
Sure, she'd kill somebody she just met. But sleep with? She'd need a little more time. Especially to make sure they weren't an undercover agent sent to kill her.
"Me too," Scout said.
"Sheesh...it was even worse than I thought," she said.
What a low point to end her vacation on.
"It ain't over yet, Cinderella. This party goes on until midnight, and it ain't even nine. You look like you could use a drink. I'll treat you to the finest beer or Scrumpy, if you want," Scout said.
"Demo will blow you up if you get into his stash," she said.
"He'll understand if it's for you," Scout said.
"No, that's all right. A beer is fine," she said.
Teufort grew quiet at night. A series of streetlights--several broken by bullet holes that were undoubtedly put there by the mercenaries--lined the streets. One shop had windows entirely shattered, and a line of singe marks gave her an idea exactly who had caused that particular mess.
"Hey, careful. Demo left a mess," Scout said. He reached for her arm, and gently steered her away from the broken glass.
He was always looking out for her in little ways like that.
They came around the bend, and she climbed on her scooter. The metal was cool to the touch, as she pulled out her keys.
"How'd you get here?"
"Stickies. Screamed the whole way, let me tell you."
She let out a sigh. One of these days, Demoman was just going to have to learn how to drive a stick shift.
"All right, climb on. I'd say get ready for a bumpy ride, but I'm pretty sure this will be a lot better than what you just went through."
"My sneakers were smokin'. And not just because I was goin' so fast!"
She chuckled as she revved up the engine, drowning out both their voices. He climbed on behind her.
"Hold on tight!" She yelled above the noise.
His hands slipped about her waist. The warmth felt so right.
*
He got a couple beers out of the freezer. They were covered with a thin film of condensation, and clinked together as he held two by the stems. She nibbled at a few too salty pretzels. Everything within the common room resembled bar food.
The lamp swung precariously above them. It was filled with thick cracks and holes from stray bullets. It left a dappled pattern across the walls, like freckles of light. Every click of the clock was a reminder that her vacation was ticking down.
"You wanna take this break out with a bang? Lemme show you a place."
She was about to say It can't get worse when she remembered her job. It could always get worse.
But somehow, she always took a chance on him.
He led her up the stairs, and opened up a window once he reached the top floor. Scout hopped out onto the ledge and held out his hand.
"Are you kidding me? It's the roof. We could die," she said.
"I've died tons, it ain't so bad. God brofists you, tells you you're doin' great, then you go back to a white room and get back to work. C'mon, live a little. I'll show you somethin' good. My favorite thing around here. Well, second favorite."
It couldn't be worse than anything else that had happened. Actually, natch that. She could fall and become a splatter of blood and viscera all across the pavement. But like Scout said--in their purgatory, she'd be back in a few minutes.
Though her experiences were far less positive than his.
He smiled hopefully at her. "C'mon, Cinderella. It's time to go party."
"Let's not party too hard on the roof. We have been drinking, after all," she said.
Scout chuckled. She took his hand and stepped out onto the roof. The lights of the base shone brightly through the night.
She held tight to his hand as he led her up the steep incline. At the very top there was a flat corrugated roof. Scout took off his bag and handed it to her. "There, that way you don't gotta be cold."
"I'll flatten all your cans," she said apologetically.
"They're all empty, anyways. Don't drink too much, or you'll fall on your ass. And the ground's a long ways down. Trust me, I've leapt off of all these roof tops one time or another."
"I'll keep that in mind," she said dryly.
It was a much better atmosphere than the bar. Much better company, too.
Scout opened up the top of his beer bottle and took a sip.
"Y'know, when I come up here, it feels like back home. Like when I'd go down to the docks roofs and watch the boat lights in the summer. All green through the fog." Scout smiled at the memory, and chuckled.
"What's with you and roof tops?" she said.
"That's where superheros hang out," Scout said.
"You're still homesick? You've been working here in New Mexico for years," she said.
"Oh yeah. I call ma every day, but it ain't the same as comin' in for Sunday dinner. Runnin' by the harbor, cheerin' my team and watching them lose year after year--I even friggin' miss the Nor'easters. Never thought I'd miss that much snow, but here I am."
All this time he'd been utterly homesick. He hadn't shown it. He'd smiled through the pain.
She closed her eyes and forced the words out. "Scout.. There's other bases. I could try and reassign you closer...if you wanted, that is," Miss Pauling said slowly.
"Nah...I ain't goin' anywhere. Sure, I ache to see that harbor, to see my ma and Fenway sometimes. Sure, I'd kill for some vacation days. But look what I'd be leavin' here. And leavin' Teufort...it'd be like leavin' a body part behind. Goin' on without my heart," Scout said.
Selfish as it was, she couldn't help but feel relief to have her suggestion turned down. She watched the the stars cast above them. The sky was an orange haze from the light pollution. But she could still see stars, and sometimes, satellites. Sometimes they were even from TFI. A light suddenly flickered down.
"Hey, it's a shootin' star. Make a wish!"
For years, her only wish had been a break. Now that she'd gotten it, all she could think of was the old adage be careful what you wish for. She had more time than she knew what to do with, than she knew what to fill.
The light flickered out across the desert.
"Did you make a wish?" Scout said.
"You can't tell a wish, or it won't come true," she said.
"Yeah...true. But, I already got mine."
His breath came out white. Her lungs ached from the cold.
"You won the lottery?"
"Yeah, I sure did. Look where I am," Scout said.
She took a sip of beer. Maybe the alcohol was making her reckless. But she turned to him.
"You're right; I do still have time to turn this around. The truth is, I had one last plan for my vacation. I saved the best for last. Really, there's been something I've been meaning to ask you for a while--"
"Yeah? " Scout said eagerly.
"Want to play some G&G with me?"
*
The table had been cleared off. The light hadn't fallen down yet. The dice had a red, almost mystical glow in this light. Scout had cleared out the old beer bottles, moved the peanuts and pretzels to the communal kitchen--which managed to not be on fire for once. That had to be a new record.
Gargoyles & Gravel was set up. They'd already played over Halloween, but she gave Scout a refresher of the rules as they set up anyways. He watched with rapt attention--or at least, about as close as Scout got. He twirled a pencil in his hand and jiggled his knee.
"You got all that?'
"Yeah," Scout said.
"So, for time's sake, we're going to use the same characters as the last campaign," she said.
"All right, time to muscle wizard up in this joint!" Scout pushed himself up from the chair and started to... exercise?
"Scout, there's no such thing as a muscle wizard. You can't increase your power by doing push ups. That's not how the game works."
Scout finished his set of five and got up onto his knees. "Nah, I was just keepin' in motion to keep my head clear."
"Really? It's only been five minutes. You can't even manage to sit still for that long?"
"You think this is bad, you should've seen me in school before I got expelled from 'em all," Scout said.
"Those poor teachers," she said dryly.
"Just gimme a sec. Do your stuff and I'll think better when I got this energy out. I'm just super hyped. Like I drank a whole case of BONK in one sittin' again," Scout said.
"Glad you like the game so much," she said.
"Game? Sure," Scout said.
He switched to marching furiously in place. She tried to focus her attention back on the game. "Ahem...Mistry the Elven Sorceress and Scout who is definitely not a muscle wizard investigated the glowing cavern....Your action, Scout."
"...Scout, don't tell me there's a round of jumping jacks now?"
"Nah, more marchin', or jumpin' in place. If I do jumpin' jacks, I'm goin' to kill the lamp for good. It's either this or leg bouncin' and tappin', and that can be distractin'," Scou said.
"You're right, my coworker doing push ups and other loud exercises isn't distracting at all," she said.
Scout sat down so suddenly, he nearly tipped over the chair. He looked at her eagerly. "You think I'm distracting?"
"Ahem, as I was saying, Mistry and Scout investigate the glowing ball. It suddenly begins to float. Mistry casts reveal. It's actually a mystical shining white jewel. Your turn."
Scout nodded. "Flex at it," Scout said.
She grimaced. "Scout, this is a no-flexing cave. It is strictly forbidden to flex there. In fact, flexing in this world is considered a grave insult to the gods."
Scout lifted his hand to gesture to the board as he talked. "But Scout's a rebel, so wouldn't character wise he be breakin' the rules? Ain't that how this G&G thing goes?"
Damn, he had her there. She bit the edge of her thumb as she thought. Technically, it could be an interesting plot point.
"Okay, fine. Scout risks the wrath of the cave and all the gods and flexes. Roll," she said.
"Ooh, twenty," Scout said.
"And it works. His bicep reflected in the facets of the gem angers the spirits of the gave so, that they attack. But they're so enraged they..."
She rolled a 10. "Miss. Then Mistry casts..." she rolled again. 7. Good, she needed at least six to make it.
"Mistry casts a protective shield and..." She rolled. 11 this time. "She succeeds."
"Aww, Miss P. You're always keepin' me alive," Scout said.
"Well, you repaid the favor today. I mean, you, not that Scout," she said.
"Anytime," Scout said.
"Ahem...anyways, it's your turn."
"Flexin' has gone good so far. I gotta go with it again."
"Oh come on, Scout," she said.
"I'm just sayin'. If it ain't broke don't fix it."
"Scout," she said.
"Hey, it's totally somethin' he would do," Scout said.
"Fine, I'll allow it. Roll for it. Higher than fifteen and you succeed. Lower than fifteen and you're smote by the gods for your insubordination," she said.
"Seventeen." He let out a whistle. "Lady Luck loves me today."
"...it works. Your flexing so enrages and distracts the spirits that they cannot focus, leaving it open for an attack." She did a quick roll, and got a ten. "And Mistry the sorceress lobs a fireball at them, obliterating them."
"Woo!" Scout held up his hands for a double high five." She happily got up to meet the high fives, even if she had to get on to tip-toes to reach. She let out an eep as the rules fell over, and the figures.
"You goin' to write that into the story?"
"Just call it a fluke and get back to where we were. Speaking of which, where were we?"
"My mad flexin' skills paired with your mad magic skills saved the day."
"Oh, right. Thanks. The day isn't saved yet, Scout. We still have to get out of that cave."
She righted the little tokens, and glanced back at the rule book. "Thus, Mistry collects the jewel. The cave begins to disintegrate. The sides begin to rumble, and stalactites begin to crumble and fall from the ceiling."
"S-Scout grabs Mistry and high tails it out of there with his super speed," Scout said quickly.
"You forgot to roll. Higher than 11 and you make it. Lower and you drop her," she said.
"Aw, crap. Got caught up in the moment." He grabbed the tie and tossed it. 20 yet again. Maybe Lady Luck did have a crush on him at this rate.
Scout looked intensely at the board as he started. "He manages to scoop her up, and rush her out, but the falling rocks. Scout, knowing that everythin' is on the line, and that he'll never forgive himself if Mistry gets hurts, because he cares about her more than anythin' in this life, more than any other girl he's ever met. He shoots out of there like a rocket--"
She cut him off. "Rockets don't exist in this time."
"It's a metaphor, Miss P," he said.
"It's an inaccurate metaphor," she said.
"What about Abraham Lincoln? He invented Rocket Jumpin'," Scout said.
"That's circa 1800s. This is pre-medieval time," she said.
"Besides, what about the Chinese?"
"What about them?"
"They had fireworks way back when. And G&G recently had an expansion with ancient Chinese stuff. I forget what they called it. Eastern Lore, wasn't it? So, somethin' like a rocket could've existed in this time. Been important from way over there."
She couldn't believe that this was only his second time playing, and he was already challenging her on rules--and winning. Leave it to Scout to give her lip.
"Fine, I'll allow it. Roll."
Yet another 20. She'd suspect he was cheating, except Scout couldn't have hidden a tell. He would've bragged all his secrets away.
"...and they make it out alive. Pantin', a little scratched up, but alive. And Scout's so damn glad. He sets her down. But careful like. Because he couldn't even manage to live with himself if she was hurt."
And they were safe. For not the first time this night, she felt a warmth spread across her chest.
"...The cave crumbles into nothing. Mistry and Scout are alive. And knowing him, I'm sure Scout is bouncing around or something. That's not a Dungeon Master lapse, by the way. It just had to be said," she said.
Scout got up so fast, the chair clattered behind him. "All right! We kicked that cave's ass!" He had such a beautiful smile. Even something as simple as a game of G&G left him completely filled with a joy. The type of happiness that for most people took some kind of illegal substance.
Miss Pauling couldn't help but smile also. "So you're a G&G fan now?"
Scout gave her a half smile. "Yeah, sure. It's fun with you," Scout said.
She glanced at the clock. "It's that late? Dang, I need to get to sleep. Work starts back tomorrow."
"I mean, I'm glad you got a break and all, but I really missed you around here."
She smiled. When she started the whole vacation, she'd planned to be as far away from the mercenaries as possible. Because saving them from destroying landmarks and each other tried her patience. Even him. But little by little, her resolve had faded. A few drinks with Demo, an accidental vision quest with Sniper, and now this.
Even if they drove her up the wall, she always came back. Especially to him.
"Hey, Miss P, I kinda wonder how this story with Mistry and Scout goes. Sure, it took me a while to get it, but I'm startin' to like it. Like what's goin' on with that jewel. Is she gonna fence it? Turn it into somethin'? A necklace or maybe a ring?"
"Well, we'll just have to see how it goes."
"Yeah, next year, we'll get to see," Scout said. He tried to put on a brave face, but she saw the hint of disappointment behind it all. No one else would've waited as long as he had, nor as patiently.
"You know, if you're willing to stay up late, we can fit in small sessions here and there. It doesn't have to be a whole year."
"For you? The answer's always yes. Actually, it's 'hell frickin' yes,'" Scout said.
He pushed the chair up. She started to put the figures and rules away.
"Hey, Miss P...."
There was something almost vulnerable in his gaze. Years ago when she met him, she would've thought him simply an skirtchasing asshole, but little by little he'd started to show something beyond the bragging and constant need to one up everyone around him.
"...Did your vacation get any better?" Scout said.
For the campaign, she hadn't thought much of work or hitmen. Or anything but him, and the plot they were creating together. She smiled slowly. The answer so close at hand.
"You know, it did. Thank you for that. You saved me from a bad night. Well, a bad week, really."
"Glad to give you a good night, any time," Scout said. He winked, and got up. "Seeya tomorrow, Miss P."
"You too, Scout,' she said.
As she stepped out, she felt lighter than she had all week when she filled the time with activities. When she wasn't working, too many thoughts came to her. It didn't feel right to not be busy.
But as she climbed towards her own residence on the base, her mind went back over the night. The minute she'd seen him, it'd shifted into something better.
She chuckled. "Muscle wizard and winning the campaign by flexing, honestly."
It was even funnier as she thought back.
She found herself whistling to herself, a tune she'd heard in a bar, and booming out of Scout's room more than once. If the vacation had made anything abundantly clear, it was that when it came to him, the risk was worth it.
Series: TF2
Character/Pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling, ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 5350
Author's note:
I usually ignore Tough Break (those were some of the ugliest skins imaginable LOL) but there's a couple lines that coalesced into this.
The title comes from Gorgeous by Taylor Swift...don't @ me, I find it genuinely soothing and nostalgic. Like 2011 kicked me in the face. The song is like Strawberry daiquiris and TFLN and talking late with friends about bizarre AUs.
There is a fanmix here: 8tracks | playmoss
For Sarah.
The bar was so crowded, she could barely make her way through the door. Hell, she could barely see the bartender, a harried looking man with a loose dress shirt, striped and stained. His face was hidden by the low, red light. She pushed past the crowd and slipped underneath a particularly tall man's arms. Sometimes, being short had its advantages.
At the far wall, alongside some rather pathetic looking dartboards that had more than a few bullet holes in them (and she could even guess who had put those there.) was a jukebox. The sound of the The Beatles' I've Just Seen A Face blared over the flashing jukebox. The last jangling guitar gave into another intro she was all too familiar with, given that she heard it blast from Scout's room all the time.
Could it be him? He hadn't gone out to the bar in quite some time. It was just a song, after all. It wasn't like Scout had a patent on liking Tom Jones. He was downright popular.
"Hey there, you looking for a good time?"
She flinched as she felt the pressure of someone's hand on her shoulder. Her first inclination was to reach for her gun. But not here. Too many witnesses, too large a crowd. A gunshot in a room could cause chaos. And chaos when one of the mercenaries was around meant a cover up she didn't have time for.
That wasn't how she wanted to spend the rest of her vacation.
She started to walk away, but he tightened her grip.
"I said--"
She gritted her teeth.
"I heard you. That's why I'm here by myself."
He moved to block her in. She pushed back. "Not interested. Back off."
There were too many witnesses to get out of this in her usual way. She could let him get her alone so she could kill him (preferably slowly.) But he was also twice her size.
Now, she could see the man clearly. He wore a long trench coat like one of the mooks she was always being forced to kill. He had an angular face, and at least one day's growth of dark beard. His hat hid away his face.
Was he an agent of the Administrator sent to test her? Or just genuinely a creep at the bar who liked dressing like a film noir character?
She couldn't kill him, but she could still make him hurt. Before he could say another word, she slammed her knee into his groin. He went down, hard, with a groan of agony.
"Don't you ever touch me again. Hell, don't even get near me, or I'll make you beg for death by the time I'm done with you."
But as she stepped away, she saw another man dressed similarly. Maybe it was the Administrator. She might've been able to get the upper hand on one, but more and she'd be faced with the dilemma of many deaths, or taking on the hitmen alone.
She heard a familiar accent above the din of the bar.
"What do you mean you don't stock Scrumpy? What the hell? I came all the way here to get my pal a drink. Go check in the back or somethin'. He said he always gets it here. Is it out of stock or somethin'? Go-go check or somethin'."
Oh, thank God.
He leaned against the bar, his baseball jacket slightly open to reveal a red shirt, different than his usual. This one had a fade baseball logo on it. For some reason that certainly involved some mercenary or another, his cap and shoes were covered in soot.
Maybe Pyro had tried to 'play tag' with him again.
She ducked past the man's arms, and ran the few steps towards Scout. She threw her arms about him, and clutched tight.
"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"
Scout's face lit up in happy blush. "Miss Pauling? You--you were lookin' for me?"
"Ye--ess, you're exactly the person I was looking for," Miss Pauling said.
His arms closed about her. She'd been thinking of the escape, not of the consequences. And for that moment, it was like the din of the crowded bar faded.
She stepped away. Now was not the time to get distracted.
She chanced a glance back. The man hadn't disappeared, and surveyed them with a cool gaze. His friend, or cohort, at least, looked on as well. She knew and appreciated just how effective a killer Scout was, but he didn't have the room clearing size that some of the other mercenaries had. His constant bragging tended to make people underestimate him. It also led to make sure he was extremely memorable. He would be picked out of a line up immediately, like someone begging to be noticed. In fact, knowing Scout, he'd give away details that were sure to get him noticed. He'd probably even flex during the line up.
He was great for the getaways, though.
His hand still rested protectively at her lower back.
"So--Miss Pauling, you need a drink? Because I can get that bartender back--"
"You know what? This bar isn't doing it for me. Let's go to another one," Miss Pauling said.
"It's the only one in Teufort. You wanna drive out to another town or somethin'? Teufort is kinda in the asscrack of nowhere, so it'll probably be twenty miles for a beer," Scout said.,
"Actually, I think I'll just drink alone after this," she said.
"No need to drink alone, I'll keep you company. And--walk you home of course."
She craned her neck back towards the two men. Good, they'd disappeared into the crowd. At this rate, she might be able to lose them. She let out a sigh of relief as they stepped out into the cold. The wooden doors swung behind them, like some old saloon.
"Thanks for bailing me out back there," she said.
His smile disappeared. "All that back there was just an alibi?"
"No, not an alibi. I haven't committed any crimes in at least a week. I haven't even jaywalked," she said.
"But not real, either," Scout said.
"I was glad to see you," she said. "That wasn't a lie...a front, or an alibi."
Scout pulled his cap down. She could still see his grim smile. "Heh... I'll take what I can get," Scout said.
She quickly changed the subject.
"Is Demoman going to be okay back there?"
"Oh, we've ditched each other plenty of times. He'll understand."
"Ah, of course. Girl chasing," she said tensely. So much for him being a reformed ladies man.
"What? no! I ain't done that in ages. Demo and I were just gettin' a beer together," Scout said. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"On Ladies night?" she said.
"He was really cut up about this person he's been seein'. He just needed some moral support!"
"And all you were going to do was get him beer?" she said.
"Scrumpy, yeah," Scout said.
Technically, she supposed she didn't have anything to say. Their maybe had been so long ago. Any other person would've given up on her long ago. And here she was on the last day of her break.
"..So, how's your vacation been goin'?" Scout said.
"Okay, I guess," she said. She rubbed the backs of her arms. It didn't beat back the cold of the night.
"Here--just a second, lemme--" Scout shrugged off his jacket. A red baseball jacket with Boston across the front in blue, and the logo of his favorite team. "Yeah, here."
"What about you?" she said.
"Me? I come from Boston. This ain't nothin'."
She pulled the jacket around her. It had a sweet, even saccharine odor. Spilled bubble gum and soda. She buried her face into the collar, until the rough material brushed across her lips. He'd probably get a kick out of her smudged lipstick on his coat.
Had he noticed? It was too dark, she couldn't tell.
"So--about that vacation--It's just okay? You been waitin' for this for ages," Scout said.
"I suppose it could go better," she said.
"You been attacked by aliens? Wizards?" Scout said.
"No, just drunken men."
"Wait? Somebody was after you?" Scout clenched his fist. "Tell me which one, I'll knock his teeth in. I swear it, I'll make him pay!"
"That's sweet, but I'd rather get the pleasure of killing him myself," she said.
Scout grinned. "Ooh, you goin' to cover him in honey and dig him in an anthill?"
"I was thinking flaying could work, though impaling works."
Scout let out a whistle. "Remind me not not to get on your to-kill list. That' brutal. I was just goin' to do an old fashioned beatin' skull in. A classic," she said.
"If you want to keep off my to-kill list, you should really stop taking things. The ear piece is understandable as it's on your hat and easily forgotten, but you stole a briefcase after hours."
"Desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides, it worked, didn't it?" Scout said.
That was debatable. He'd talked to her, there'd been definite flirting, but they still hadn't had that date. And the longer that date didn't happen, the more all the things that could go wrong came to mind. Really, on the edge of death it had made sense, but now--where would she find the time?
Even if it'd felt good. Even if even just wearing his coat drained so much stress of the day.
She glanced back. There was no hint of the man. Maybe he'd not been a pair of hitmen after all, but just two friends with questionable fashion choices. Even on her vacation, the paranoia in the back of her head lingered. She could have three kids in the suburbs and she'd still be looking for the red dot of a sniper's sight on her wall, and the gun barrel.
(In her future vision, the two children were unmistakable. Covered in dirt with grey eyes and chatting about Baseball. He even snuck into her metaphors.)
He cleared his throat. "Look, you don't gotta go to the meat market alone. I'll get you a drink. Bartenders can't ignore me, I just yell louder. You don't gotta worry about any creeps goin' after you ever again. Unless they're hired goons. but even then, I'll make sure you don't ever gotta face them alone."
She knew very well how good at yelling Scout was. And just how well he could back her up in a tough fight.
"It's all right. I won't have time to go out to bars after this," she said.
"Oh yeah, your job thing," Scout said.
"Yeah..." she chuckled as she began to relate what had happened.
"I tried a book club and I couldn't get into the book. I went to this thing called a 'key party' but they kept trying to take my keys so I just left. I guess my attempts at having a vacation keep going awry."
Scout flinched at that, and gave her an alarmed glance. "A--key party? Uh...Miss Pauling--you're into that?"
"Why are you looking at me like that? Wait...is it something weird?"
"So, you didn't know what it was? I mean, if you were into it, it'd be okay with me, but--Didn't think you were the type."
"If it's so bad, then how do you know what it is?" She let out a sigh and shook her head, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."
"Whoa, whoa, I ain't gone to one firsthand. I ain't into that kind stuff. Not anymore, anyways. There's someone I got my eye on."
Words couldn't express her relief. But her blush could. Thankfully, he wasn't looking at her for once. Scout glanced back, towards the bar they'd left, and shook his head.
"But...Demo told me. It's where he met Medic's Wife. She's a swinger, apparently. Demo said she was a beard, though I didn't get how a chick could be a beard. Like did Medic marry the Bearded lady from a circus or somethin'?"
"A swinger? So it was a dancing party?"
"Probably had some of that, but Demo said it meant people who swing around in relationships, if you know what i mean."
"So that means... dancing?" she said.
"Demo said you put the keys in a bowl, somebody else picks 'em up and you go home with whoever you get."
Miss Pauling's cheeks turned an even brighter pink. "Wh-what? I'm glad I left early, then."
Sure, she'd kill somebody she just met. But sleep with? She'd need a little more time. Especially to make sure they weren't an undercover agent sent to kill her.
"Me too," Scout said.
"Sheesh...it was even worse than I thought," she said.
What a low point to end her vacation on.
"It ain't over yet, Cinderella. This party goes on until midnight, and it ain't even nine. You look like you could use a drink. I'll treat you to the finest beer or Scrumpy, if you want," Scout said.
"Demo will blow you up if you get into his stash," she said.
"He'll understand if it's for you," Scout said.
"No, that's all right. A beer is fine," she said.
Teufort grew quiet at night. A series of streetlights--several broken by bullet holes that were undoubtedly put there by the mercenaries--lined the streets. One shop had windows entirely shattered, and a line of singe marks gave her an idea exactly who had caused that particular mess.
"Hey, careful. Demo left a mess," Scout said. He reached for her arm, and gently steered her away from the broken glass.
He was always looking out for her in little ways like that.
They came around the bend, and she climbed on her scooter. The metal was cool to the touch, as she pulled out her keys.
"How'd you get here?"
"Stickies. Screamed the whole way, let me tell you."
She let out a sigh. One of these days, Demoman was just going to have to learn how to drive a stick shift.
"All right, climb on. I'd say get ready for a bumpy ride, but I'm pretty sure this will be a lot better than what you just went through."
"My sneakers were smokin'. And not just because I was goin' so fast!"
She chuckled as she revved up the engine, drowning out both their voices. He climbed on behind her.
"Hold on tight!" She yelled above the noise.
His hands slipped about her waist. The warmth felt so right.
*
He got a couple beers out of the freezer. They were covered with a thin film of condensation, and clinked together as he held two by the stems. She nibbled at a few too salty pretzels. Everything within the common room resembled bar food.
The lamp swung precariously above them. It was filled with thick cracks and holes from stray bullets. It left a dappled pattern across the walls, like freckles of light. Every click of the clock was a reminder that her vacation was ticking down.
"You wanna take this break out with a bang? Lemme show you a place."
She was about to say It can't get worse when she remembered her job. It could always get worse.
But somehow, she always took a chance on him.
He led her up the stairs, and opened up a window once he reached the top floor. Scout hopped out onto the ledge and held out his hand.
"Are you kidding me? It's the roof. We could die," she said.
"I've died tons, it ain't so bad. God brofists you, tells you you're doin' great, then you go back to a white room and get back to work. C'mon, live a little. I'll show you somethin' good. My favorite thing around here. Well, second favorite."
It couldn't be worse than anything else that had happened. Actually, natch that. She could fall and become a splatter of blood and viscera all across the pavement. But like Scout said--in their purgatory, she'd be back in a few minutes.
Though her experiences were far less positive than his.
He smiled hopefully at her. "C'mon, Cinderella. It's time to go party."
"Let's not party too hard on the roof. We have been drinking, after all," she said.
Scout chuckled. She took his hand and stepped out onto the roof. The lights of the base shone brightly through the night.
She held tight to his hand as he led her up the steep incline. At the very top there was a flat corrugated roof. Scout took off his bag and handed it to her. "There, that way you don't gotta be cold."
"I'll flatten all your cans," she said apologetically.
"They're all empty, anyways. Don't drink too much, or you'll fall on your ass. And the ground's a long ways down. Trust me, I've leapt off of all these roof tops one time or another."
"I'll keep that in mind," she said dryly.
It was a much better atmosphere than the bar. Much better company, too.
Scout opened up the top of his beer bottle and took a sip.
"Y'know, when I come up here, it feels like back home. Like when I'd go down to the docks roofs and watch the boat lights in the summer. All green through the fog." Scout smiled at the memory, and chuckled.
"What's with you and roof tops?" she said.
"That's where superheros hang out," Scout said.
"You're still homesick? You've been working here in New Mexico for years," she said.
"Oh yeah. I call ma every day, but it ain't the same as comin' in for Sunday dinner. Runnin' by the harbor, cheerin' my team and watching them lose year after year--I even friggin' miss the Nor'easters. Never thought I'd miss that much snow, but here I am."
All this time he'd been utterly homesick. He hadn't shown it. He'd smiled through the pain.
She closed her eyes and forced the words out. "Scout.. There's other bases. I could try and reassign you closer...if you wanted, that is," Miss Pauling said slowly.
"Nah...I ain't goin' anywhere. Sure, I ache to see that harbor, to see my ma and Fenway sometimes. Sure, I'd kill for some vacation days. But look what I'd be leavin' here. And leavin' Teufort...it'd be like leavin' a body part behind. Goin' on without my heart," Scout said.
Selfish as it was, she couldn't help but feel relief to have her suggestion turned down. She watched the the stars cast above them. The sky was an orange haze from the light pollution. But she could still see stars, and sometimes, satellites. Sometimes they were even from TFI. A light suddenly flickered down.
"Hey, it's a shootin' star. Make a wish!"
For years, her only wish had been a break. Now that she'd gotten it, all she could think of was the old adage be careful what you wish for. She had more time than she knew what to do with, than she knew what to fill.
The light flickered out across the desert.
"Did you make a wish?" Scout said.
"You can't tell a wish, or it won't come true," she said.
"Yeah...true. But, I already got mine."
His breath came out white. Her lungs ached from the cold.
"You won the lottery?"
"Yeah, I sure did. Look where I am," Scout said.
She took a sip of beer. Maybe the alcohol was making her reckless. But she turned to him.
"You're right; I do still have time to turn this around. The truth is, I had one last plan for my vacation. I saved the best for last. Really, there's been something I've been meaning to ask you for a while--"
"Yeah? " Scout said eagerly.
"Want to play some G&G with me?"
*
The table had been cleared off. The light hadn't fallen down yet. The dice had a red, almost mystical glow in this light. Scout had cleared out the old beer bottles, moved the peanuts and pretzels to the communal kitchen--which managed to not be on fire for once. That had to be a new record.
Gargoyles & Gravel was set up. They'd already played over Halloween, but she gave Scout a refresher of the rules as they set up anyways. He watched with rapt attention--or at least, about as close as Scout got. He twirled a pencil in his hand and jiggled his knee.
"You got all that?'
"Yeah," Scout said.
"So, for time's sake, we're going to use the same characters as the last campaign," she said.
"All right, time to muscle wizard up in this joint!" Scout pushed himself up from the chair and started to... exercise?
"Scout, there's no such thing as a muscle wizard. You can't increase your power by doing push ups. That's not how the game works."
Scout finished his set of five and got up onto his knees. "Nah, I was just keepin' in motion to keep my head clear."
"Really? It's only been five minutes. You can't even manage to sit still for that long?"
"You think this is bad, you should've seen me in school before I got expelled from 'em all," Scout said.
"Those poor teachers," she said dryly.
"Just gimme a sec. Do your stuff and I'll think better when I got this energy out. I'm just super hyped. Like I drank a whole case of BONK in one sittin' again," Scout said.
"Glad you like the game so much," she said.
"Game? Sure," Scout said.
He switched to marching furiously in place. She tried to focus her attention back on the game. "Ahem...Mistry the Elven Sorceress and Scout who is definitely not a muscle wizard investigated the glowing cavern....Your action, Scout."
"...Scout, don't tell me there's a round of jumping jacks now?"
"Nah, more marchin', or jumpin' in place. If I do jumpin' jacks, I'm goin' to kill the lamp for good. It's either this or leg bouncin' and tappin', and that can be distractin'," Scou said.
"You're right, my coworker doing push ups and other loud exercises isn't distracting at all," she said.
Scout sat down so suddenly, he nearly tipped over the chair. He looked at her eagerly. "You think I'm distracting?"
"Ahem, as I was saying, Mistry and Scout investigate the glowing ball. It suddenly begins to float. Mistry casts reveal. It's actually a mystical shining white jewel. Your turn."
Scout nodded. "Flex at it," Scout said.
She grimaced. "Scout, this is a no-flexing cave. It is strictly forbidden to flex there. In fact, flexing in this world is considered a grave insult to the gods."
Scout lifted his hand to gesture to the board as he talked. "But Scout's a rebel, so wouldn't character wise he be breakin' the rules? Ain't that how this G&G thing goes?"
Damn, he had her there. She bit the edge of her thumb as she thought. Technically, it could be an interesting plot point.
"Okay, fine. Scout risks the wrath of the cave and all the gods and flexes. Roll," she said.
"Ooh, twenty," Scout said.
"And it works. His bicep reflected in the facets of the gem angers the spirits of the gave so, that they attack. But they're so enraged they..."
She rolled a 10. "Miss. Then Mistry casts..." she rolled again. 7. Good, she needed at least six to make it.
"Mistry casts a protective shield and..." She rolled. 11 this time. "She succeeds."
"Aww, Miss P. You're always keepin' me alive," Scout said.
"Well, you repaid the favor today. I mean, you, not that Scout," she said.
"Anytime," Scout said.
"Ahem...anyways, it's your turn."
"Flexin' has gone good so far. I gotta go with it again."
"Oh come on, Scout," she said.
"I'm just sayin'. If it ain't broke don't fix it."
"Scout," she said.
"Hey, it's totally somethin' he would do," Scout said.
"Fine, I'll allow it. Roll for it. Higher than fifteen and you succeed. Lower than fifteen and you're smote by the gods for your insubordination," she said.
"Seventeen." He let out a whistle. "Lady Luck loves me today."
"...it works. Your flexing so enrages and distracts the spirits that they cannot focus, leaving it open for an attack." She did a quick roll, and got a ten. "And Mistry the sorceress lobs a fireball at them, obliterating them."
"Woo!" Scout held up his hands for a double high five." She happily got up to meet the high fives, even if she had to get on to tip-toes to reach. She let out an eep as the rules fell over, and the figures.
"You goin' to write that into the story?"
"Just call it a fluke and get back to where we were. Speaking of which, where were we?"
"My mad flexin' skills paired with your mad magic skills saved the day."
"Oh, right. Thanks. The day isn't saved yet, Scout. We still have to get out of that cave."
She righted the little tokens, and glanced back at the rule book. "Thus, Mistry collects the jewel. The cave begins to disintegrate. The sides begin to rumble, and stalactites begin to crumble and fall from the ceiling."
"S-Scout grabs Mistry and high tails it out of there with his super speed," Scout said quickly.
"You forgot to roll. Higher than 11 and you make it. Lower and you drop her," she said.
"Aw, crap. Got caught up in the moment." He grabbed the tie and tossed it. 20 yet again. Maybe Lady Luck did have a crush on him at this rate.
Scout looked intensely at the board as he started. "He manages to scoop her up, and rush her out, but the falling rocks. Scout, knowing that everythin' is on the line, and that he'll never forgive himself if Mistry gets hurts, because he cares about her more than anythin' in this life, more than any other girl he's ever met. He shoots out of there like a rocket--"
She cut him off. "Rockets don't exist in this time."
"It's a metaphor, Miss P," he said.
"It's an inaccurate metaphor," she said.
"What about Abraham Lincoln? He invented Rocket Jumpin'," Scout said.
"That's circa 1800s. This is pre-medieval time," she said.
"Besides, what about the Chinese?"
"What about them?"
"They had fireworks way back when. And G&G recently had an expansion with ancient Chinese stuff. I forget what they called it. Eastern Lore, wasn't it? So, somethin' like a rocket could've existed in this time. Been important from way over there."
She couldn't believe that this was only his second time playing, and he was already challenging her on rules--and winning. Leave it to Scout to give her lip.
"Fine, I'll allow it. Roll."
Yet another 20. She'd suspect he was cheating, except Scout couldn't have hidden a tell. He would've bragged all his secrets away.
"...and they make it out alive. Pantin', a little scratched up, but alive. And Scout's so damn glad. He sets her down. But careful like. Because he couldn't even manage to live with himself if she was hurt."
And they were safe. For not the first time this night, she felt a warmth spread across her chest.
"...The cave crumbles into nothing. Mistry and Scout are alive. And knowing him, I'm sure Scout is bouncing around or something. That's not a Dungeon Master lapse, by the way. It just had to be said," she said.
Scout got up so fast, the chair clattered behind him. "All right! We kicked that cave's ass!" He had such a beautiful smile. Even something as simple as a game of G&G left him completely filled with a joy. The type of happiness that for most people took some kind of illegal substance.
Miss Pauling couldn't help but smile also. "So you're a G&G fan now?"
Scout gave her a half smile. "Yeah, sure. It's fun with you," Scout said.
She glanced at the clock. "It's that late? Dang, I need to get to sleep. Work starts back tomorrow."
"I mean, I'm glad you got a break and all, but I really missed you around here."
She smiled. When she started the whole vacation, she'd planned to be as far away from the mercenaries as possible. Because saving them from destroying landmarks and each other tried her patience. Even him. But little by little, her resolve had faded. A few drinks with Demo, an accidental vision quest with Sniper, and now this.
Even if they drove her up the wall, she always came back. Especially to him.
"Hey, Miss P, I kinda wonder how this story with Mistry and Scout goes. Sure, it took me a while to get it, but I'm startin' to like it. Like what's goin' on with that jewel. Is she gonna fence it? Turn it into somethin'? A necklace or maybe a ring?"
"Well, we'll just have to see how it goes."
"Yeah, next year, we'll get to see," Scout said. He tried to put on a brave face, but she saw the hint of disappointment behind it all. No one else would've waited as long as he had, nor as patiently.
"You know, if you're willing to stay up late, we can fit in small sessions here and there. It doesn't have to be a whole year."
"For you? The answer's always yes. Actually, it's 'hell frickin' yes,'" Scout said.
He pushed the chair up. She started to put the figures and rules away.
"Hey, Miss P...."
There was something almost vulnerable in his gaze. Years ago when she met him, she would've thought him simply an skirtchasing asshole, but little by little he'd started to show something beyond the bragging and constant need to one up everyone around him.
"...Did your vacation get any better?" Scout said.
For the campaign, she hadn't thought much of work or hitmen. Or anything but him, and the plot they were creating together. She smiled slowly. The answer so close at hand.
"You know, it did. Thank you for that. You saved me from a bad night. Well, a bad week, really."
"Glad to give you a good night, any time," Scout said. He winked, and got up. "Seeya tomorrow, Miss P."
"You too, Scout,' she said.
As she stepped out, she felt lighter than she had all week when she filled the time with activities. When she wasn't working, too many thoughts came to her. It didn't feel right to not be busy.
But as she climbed towards her own residence on the base, her mind went back over the night. The minute she'd seen him, it'd shifted into something better.
She chuckled. "Muscle wizard and winning the campaign by flexing, honestly."
It was even funnier as she thought back.
She found herself whistling to herself, a tune she'd heard in a bar, and booming out of Scout's room more than once. If the vacation had made anything abundantly clear, it was that when it came to him, the risk was worth it.