fic: Fake It Till You Make It
Dec. 10th, 2018 06:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Fake It Till You Make It
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Scoutpauling, Demoman/almost everyone, Engineer/robots, Sniper/mason jars, Soldier/Zhanna/Demoman, Heavy's Sisters/Demoman
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 4k
Summary: The mercenaries try and set up Scout with many different girls after believing that Miss Pauling rejected him and broke his heart. Except the truth is Scout and Miss Pauling are actually secretly dating, due to regulations by the Administrator. Scout scrambles to find a way of the blind dates before Miss Pauling finds out and ends up adding more people to her to-kill list.
Rating: PG-13
Author's note: this exists solely because of this. I found it in my drafts last night and this piece practically wrote itself in an incredibly short amount of time.
For Sarah.
Years ago, Scout would've jumped at the chance of a blind date--literally, even--but now, he was pretty sure this was some kind of circle of hell. That wasn't saying she wasn't cute--she was. But she wasn't Miss Pauling, and that was all that mattered.
But what was he supposed to do? Bidwell was super close to old man Hale. If he turned down a date with his cousin, then he'd have to give an excuse. And they all were believed that Scout was still a manwhore supreme, down to fuck any lady who was willing. He had to keep up the charade, or he and Miss Pauling were toast.
So here he was, in this red booth of the local Teufort bar--the one which Demoman hadn't blown up, anyways. She kind of looked like Bidwell. Small, dark haired, with nervous, even nerdy traits. In fact, she kind of resembled Miss Pauling, but he couldn't see her gunning down zombies, and that was just a dealbreaker.
Usually, Scout didn't have a problem with talking, especially on dates. He bragged about himself, like some bird doing one of those ridiculous fluffy dances on the nature programs. But there was only one person he wanted to flex for and tell how rich he was, even if all she said was I know how much you make, Scout. I'm the one who pays you. Also, I make twenty times more...just saying.
'"Just gimme a sec, I gotta go take a leak."
"Mmn," she said. She nervously twisted her straw. Scout knew when a date was going bad--he'd had enough bad dates to tell all the signs. Now if he could just find a way to drive her away without hurting her. Not just because he wasn't a cad who wanted to break a girl's heart, but Bidwell was bros with Saxton Hale. If he hurt anybody near Bidwell, Scout would totally have a giant screaming Australian kicking down his door the next morning.
(As opposed to the giant screaming American who usually kicked down his door every day at dawn.)
Scout tried to walk as nonchalantly as possible towards the bathroom, despite every nerve in his body wanting to full out run, and not stop until he was all the way out of Teufort. He kicked away the sawdust across the floor. The discolored wood boards creaked beneath his feet as he headed towards the payphone between the bathrooms. He could smell the stench of bleach and something nasty wafting out, even from this far. He dug out a quarter and put it in the payphone.
Except this time it wasn't one phone call, and it wasn't Miss Pauling or his ma. Scout tapped his foot insistently as the rings came. "Come on...don't tell me you're gone..."
"Ayellooo?"
Good, Demoman was already drunk as shit. Then again, it was Demo, so it wasn't like this was too surprising.
"Demo, my man! I'm so glad you picked up! Listen, it's free beer city down here, you gotta come quick! It won't be right without you?"
"Free beer, ye say?"
"But only if you come in shirtless, and wearin' a kilt. Got that? I need you as shirtless as physically possible. Come in lookin' like a sex god or somethin'."
"Aye, I'm already there. I'll be head out in a second--and it will be a blast, I promise." He laughed heartily at his own joke, until the telephone seemed to clatter. Scout finally hung up, and hoped that Demo didn't blow himself up or pass out before he got there.
He could:
-go back to the date and have awkward small talk and hope that Miss Pauling didn't burst through the door with guns ablazing. Even though that would be pretty hot, and he'd love to see her right now.
-hide in the bathroom and pretend he had the megashits. Maybe tell some guy out there to tell the gal at booth five that he was dying from flu and exploding from both ends, until she was so grossed out and scared that she'd get what he had, that she bailed to do vitamin C shots, downed with orange juice in hopes she didn't get it.
Scout took the second option.
Nobody came in. It was the quietest bathroom in all of Teufort, though probably not the most clean. That was, until the door outside burst open. Scout could hear Demoman's booming voice even from all the way in here.
"AYE, The party's here!"
After several cheers and assorted woos, to say nothing of a few unidentified explosions, Scout finally left the relative safety of the bathroom.
The booth was empty, and his date was now taking shots with Demoman. Scout let out a sigh of relief. Thank God for Demoman's abs. He always knew they'd save the day one day.
Now all he had to do was finish his beer and head back to the base. Once it was late enough, he could sneak in with Miss Pauling, and maybe get lucky. (Or more likely, help her file paperwork and then eat junk food until she collapsed on the couch in her office in exhaustion.)
Scout suddenly realized he was in the shade. He looked up to see one hell of a massive man standing above him.
"Oh, hey Heavy. You here for the party? I don't usually see you drinkin' with the rest of us, just Medic."
"Little Scout, I have something important to say."
"O-oh?" A thousand thoughts filled his mind. What if something was wrong with Miss Pauling? What then?
"I have two sisters. They ask me to introduce them to my coworkers."
"Oh yeah, I remember them. We met back at your cabin."
And he'd told them how taken he was. Oh and he'd almost hooked up with Zhanna, but had been saved by the Shoulder Miss Pauling who told him not to burn stuff (outside of battle, at least.)
"I will give you first chance."
"You what now?"
"Before, you were noisy little boy who was always chasing after girls. But with Miss Pauling, you changed. You grew, and became good to women, good to her, Since that did not work out, I introduce you to my sisters. There are no prettier or stronger girls in all of Russia. They will make you forget about Miss Pauling."
No offense to his sisters, but nobody would ever make him forget about Miss Pauling.
He leaned in, and spoke softly, "Remember, if old Scout comes back, I will rip your spine out and beat you to death with it for breaking my sisters' hearts."
Scout swallowed. "U-uh, no problem there! I-I'm a total gentleman! Really!"
Scout could only gape as they came in. Somehow, they were still wearing coats and thick fur hats, in friggin' New Mexico, no less.
He had a vision of Heavy's face slowly becoming a mask of rage as he tried to explain that he wasn't going to date his sisters. Because what could he say? According to the official story, he was officially on the prowl and over Miss Pauling. And it'd be even worse for him if he rejected Heavy's sisters.
"I-I'm mean, great. Great to meet your sisters--"
"Too late," Heavy said.
Yana sat on Demoman's lap, while he had his arm about Bronislava's waist.
"Thank God," Scout said under his breath.
Heavy furrowed his brow. "Thank God? You... Are thankful to not meet my sisters? You think they are not good enough for you?"
"N-No man! I was raised Catholic. You always say thanks before you eat." He took a big gulp of his beer. "Beer too. You're takin' it in, so it counts. Anyways, looks like they already found somebody. On the bright side, look at all the explosive specialists you're gonna have in the family!"
Heavy let out a low groan and shook his head. He'd come around, Scout figured.
Speaking of the devil, Soldier's voice boomed almost as much as the explosions and broken door that followed.
"Scout!"
Scout flinched, and clutched tighter to his bottle. Soldier had a habit of breaking his limbs for extremely stupid and nonsensical reasons. Usually Medic fixed him right up, but last time, he'd been in a cast for months and months while he was in prison.
Soldier and Zhanna strode in amid the clouds of dust and debris. They were not wearing any clothes, or even honey this time. Somehow, Soldier did not get that it was the land of the free, home of the freaking pants and covering your ass. Zhanna followed suit, with only her long brown hair covering her massive breasts.
"Uh, you know this isn't a nudist colony, right?"
Heavy let out a long sigh and shook his head. "I need a drink."
"Right, see you, pally. Uh, hey, Soldier." Scout angled himself out of neck-snapping range.
"I stole your girl back then, during that double date, and I'm making up for you now. Zhanna and I found you a woman!"
Mentally he was going please let her not be bound and gagged and thrown over his shoulder caveman style, please, for the love of God..
But instead, it was the chicken girl he banged ages ago. She wore and even tighter tube top, and the chicken had made her gain a little bit more weight. She'd gotten a tan and a new platinum blond hair job which must've come out of a bottle, because it her hair looked about fried.
"Oh--"
His mind came up at a blank at her name. The only words he remembered were "extra crispy." Which he was pretty sure wasn't her name, but the type of order he'd made.
"We've met. Long time no see, Mr. Fried chicken."
"Eheheh, hey--"
"It's Brandi."
"Right, Brandi. I'm just no good with names."
"Eh, it's fine. I got shit memory too. I can't remember the phone number of the my third and fifth kids' fathers. Which is bullshit, because they owe me a ton of child support when I figure out their damn numbers. What's your name again, or should I just call you handsome Mr. Crispy?"
Kids? Scout had a feeling he really dodged a bullet.
A particular loud woo rose up. Scout glanced over, only to find that Zhanna, too, had joined her sisters around Demoman. Demoman poured beer down his abs, and Yana happily licked it up.
"Uh, dude, your wife."
Soldier let out a growl.
"You started the party without me!"
He shoved Yana aside to also began to furiously lick at Demoman's beer-covered abs.
"Damn, Demo's abs saved the day again."
"I'm going to go get a beer. I'll catch up with you later, Mr. Fried Chicken."
Did she even know his name? Scout couldn't remember if he'd given her a false name, or joked about being James Bond or what. He wasn't exactly the kind of guy who went up to random girls at the counter and went we both got buckets of chicken, wanna do it?
But yeah, he'd gotten some with that line. His game was nothing but A game, even if he was retired and only banging and dating Miss Pauling now.
He heard a distinctly French laugh, so stereotypically French that he was sure Spy was doing it just to annoy him. After all, he was pretty sure that was Spy's main motivation in life. He just sat around with his to-do list that had nothing but spy stuff, drink wine, smoke, and annoy Scout. Then he put up his legs and sighed in relief, because he knew his very existence annoyed Scout.
Oh, for fuck's sake...
"Here, a photo."
Scout looked it over. He immediately dropped the photo and drew back in revulsion.
"EYGH! WHat the hell, man!"
"That's--my ma. And your naked ass, and also she's not wearin' anythin'. What the hell, man?"
"Yes. I slept with your mother. Many times. Today, even. This lipstick on my collar? Hers."
"That's not helpin'! I don't fuckin' need to know that, and I certainly don't need pictures!"
"Too late, it is burned in your mind, forever."
Scout shook his head. Leave it to Spy to try and work hard to win the asshole of the year every single day of his life. He should give the jerk a trophy or something. "Biggest Douchebag in the universe."
"Fuck you, man."
It was only softer that he heard Spy say, "And you won't think about Miss Pauling any longer."
So the whole thing had been to traumatize him so much he'd be distracted from his heartache? Heh, some spy he was if he didn't even know that Scout and Miss Pauling were fucking like bunnies out there in the caves, and any other spare closet.
With another stupid French laugh, Spy disappeared into a cloud of smoke. Over at the beer orgy, Demoman ruled over like some bisexual god king. He even had a crown that someone gave him, though it was from Burger King.
But the parade of hell wasn't over yet. Engineer and Sniper sat down right across him at that booth. He hadn't
"Bloody Spook," Sniper said.
"Yeah, fuck him," Scout said.
At least he hadn't left the pornography starring his mother on the bar, but it was forever burned in his mind. Engie's voice cut through his traumatizing mental images.
"Now, listen up, boy. Since you struck out with Miss Pauling, and Demoman stole all your other chances, it's obvious no other woman's goin' to want you."
"Gee, thanks," Scout said dryly.
"I'll help. This is Daisy."
He passed a picture to Scout. It was a robot, but with tits. Said hunk of bolts was posed like a pin up.
"This is a robot. Dafuq you showin' me that for?" Scout said.
"That she is. A damn fine robot. I built her myself. Now, I already have my own prototype, but I can make another."
Sniper scoffed. "Too much work. All you need is a jar. Line it with something soft, and. stick your wang in there when you need some. Pretend it's an ass or a cunt, or whatever a little freak like you wants to fuck. Jars just ain't for pissin' in, you see."
Engineer shook his head. "Now, don't be crass. Maybe I should make him a Miss Pauling robot..."
Scout threw his hands up in exasperation. "I can get girls!"
Both Sniper and Engineer gave him a look of mixed pity and disbelief.
"Honest, like look over there!"
He pointed to where Brandi waited for her beer, and made eyes at Demo. He also now realized two things: Bidwell moonlit as a bartender all along, and he also had joined in the Demo party, and ignored all clients save for giving Demoman as much alcohol as possible.
"Banged her."
"Oh, who hasn't?" Sniper said dismissively.
"Medic," Engineer said.
"Talk about pointin' out the obvious, mate. She ain't exactly his type."
"So, he likes brunettes?" Scout said.
Engineer laughed so hard, he slapped his leg. Finally, he wiped a tear from his eyes. "Boy, you're too much. Speakin' of Medic. He told me to tell you if you want something. He sent a picture with it."
A stitched together Frankenstein's bride of a zombie was posed into a pin-up like position For some reason, she had a Heavy's head. Scout shuddered and tossed the picture away.
"I ain't fuckin' zombies and fuckin' abominations of life! Look, I'm doin' fine."
"He said there were other models, like this one."
This one was just Heavy, zombie version. He could only blink in disbelief at that one. A dude couldn't physically have a dong that big, right? Right? Doc had to have made it bigger, right? Either way, he wasn't ever going to look at Heavy the same way again. Also, in retrospect, Engineer's comment about Medic's type started to kind of make sense.
"Ain't into zombies, and I'm doin' fine. Seriously."
"You've been runnin' all the time. You barely show up to eat. She really did a number on you, mate," Sniper said.
Aw, jeez. There it was. What was he supposed to say? He couldn't just make up some speech about how she was just another girl, and he'd been stupid to catch feelings. Also he couldn't say all his running was straight to Miss Pauling's bedroom for another night of wild sex, and he missed dinner because he was eating with her, either. And that was when she wasn't the main course. But not in a zombie way.
Scout rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Miss Pauling...I mean, sure she's the best girl I ever met. She's amazing, she's real stupendous, a real dynamite gal. Nothing but the best... But...I'll be okay. I guess. Don't worry about me."
Engineer gave him another pitying look, and reached out an arm and patted him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit, son."
"Well, I've had about enough peoplin' as I can manage. Time to get enough beer to kill some braincells and pass out in my van," Sniper said. Which was about as much as a goodbye as he got.
"I'll make that Miss Pauling robot, just as a prototype. And you could give it a try," he said.
"Uh, right," Scout said.
"Seeya later, boy," Engineer said.
"Yeah, see you."
A few minutes after they'd left, Brandi sat across him. She adjusted her extremely tight tube top, and gave him a smile. "You know, I think you'd be a good father. You said you're real rich, right? Also, what did you say your name was again?"
Let's just say Scout felt better about forgeting her name after that.
Before Scout could answer, the door was violently pushed open. Miss Pauling stood there, and Scout was glad she didn't have a gun in her hands, because those green eyes were filled with murder.
The fact that her purple dress was splattered with so much blood--that she didn't even care who saw her like that, wasn't exactly comforting. But fuck, if she wasn't gorgeous. Like some battle goddess in a bloody purple dress that fit her wonderful curves perfectly.
She glanced over at the Demo party at the bar. For a moment, Scout was terrified that she would join them.
No! Demoman's abs were too powerful! Not even Miss Pauling was immune!
But it was him she marched straight towards.
"The only person whose children he's going to be fathering are mine."
Both Brandi and Scout were left full out gaping. In that moment of shock, awe, and possible future murders, Miss Pauling climbed up in his lap, and kissed him hard. Scout couldn't keep back a moan as she ground against his crotch. Her lips were amazing soft, and so was her incredible rack pressed hard against his chest. A little part of him wondered that if Demo could fuck in public, what about him? Did a guy have to be a drunk Scottish explosions expert to get some public fucking down here? Because he could seriously go with some boobs, right in his hands right this second with the way his day had been going.
"Oh, got together with your ex? I understand. I keep getting back together with my first husband all the time. You never forget your first love."
Scout couldn't exactly reply to Brandi, considering what Miss Pauling was doing to him. It was boner city, population him. He wrapped his arms about her waist, and really went to town with that kiss. Not even the explosions from the bar could make them break away. He wasn't about to let Demoman get away with all the public debauchery. Her lipstick smeared across his lips, then down his neck as she broke away just to leave a very visible hickey on his neck.
She pushed back, with a wild glance. Once she'd seen that Brandi had left, just as quickly as she'd climbed up, Miss Pauling slid off.
"Scout, we're leaving. Now," Miss Pauling said tersely.
"But-the secrets..." Scout gasped.
(And wondered how the hell he was going to walk all the way home with a hard on like this.)
"Fuck secrets," she said from between gritted teeth. "I can't take anymore of this."
She pushed through the doors, and Scout rushed to catch up with her. When he finally did, there was still deep rage in her green eyes. Uh-to-the-oh. When Miss Pauling got angry, people died.
Well, technically also when she was sleepy, sad, and happy, because it was her job. But people not on her to-kill list tended to die.
"Hey, Miss Pauling..."
She whirled around to face him. "You left your headset on! I can hear everything. Every single girl in a ten mile radius was trying to get into your pants! And also from what I heard, some mason jars and robots? I never thought I'd have to fight canning goods for your affection."
He left out the part where it was Demo who had been the chick (and dude, apparently) magnet.
"Everything?" He said a lot of dumb shit that he'd rather Miss Pauling not hear. Which meant she'd heard all his dumbass things, and loved him anyways.
"Everything," she said.
Oh boy did he need another drink right now. And a set of fine ass tits in his hands, but he'd have to wait for that.
"Listen, looks like we'll have to get some beer somewhere else."
"I'll deal with the clean up later. At least I don't have to bury any bodies this time."
"I mean, Soldier and Zhanna are here, so don't count on that," Scout said.
She smiled, and he smiled and they sorted just shared a moment there outside the bar. The streetlights had just came on and glowed orange and made it romantic and crap.
"The thought that somebody else could get their claws into you...." She let out a soft sigh and shook her head. "I apparently have a thing for loud dumbasses who don't know how to shut up."
Scout broke into a big grin. "That's me! I'm a loud dumbass! I don't keep my mouth shut ever! I even talk in my sleep!"
His joy was short-lived as he came tumbling down back into the big problem.
"What about the Administrator, though? Ain't we hidin' out from her? I mean, I like my dick! I like it attached to my body and not cut off because she didn't want me fuckin' around with her assistant!"
"I like your dick too, and I'll do whatever I can to keep it attached to your body." Her lips thinned at the mention of their violent, despotic boss. "She'll just have to deal. If she wants me working 364 days a year, then the only choice I have is dating my coworker."
Crap, did that mean he was sloppy seconds? No, wait! He was way too awesome to be the plan B! ...Right? Right?
Like she'd read his mind, Miss Pauling continued.
"I'd date you even if I had weekends off," she said. She took a deep breath, and continued, "I completely love you, and I don't want to share you with anybody! Understood? I don't ever want to come into a bar and find it crawling with women who are trying to date you and steal you away from me!"
It was like a heavenly chorus broke out, but it was better because it was her, in love with him. Him, winning the jackpot.
"You love me? Because I totally love you! Like nobody even compares!"
She gave him a tender look. "I know. You scream it while you're running sometimes. I can hear everything on that headset, remember?"
"Oh, right. So, uh, Miss Pauling. You really want me to father your kids? Because we can get started on the way back."
She smiled. "Why let Demoman have all the fun?"
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Scoutpauling, Demoman/almost everyone, Engineer/robots, Sniper/mason jars, Soldier/Zhanna/Demoman, Heavy's Sisters/Demoman
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 4k
Summary: The mercenaries try and set up Scout with many different girls after believing that Miss Pauling rejected him and broke his heart. Except the truth is Scout and Miss Pauling are actually secretly dating, due to regulations by the Administrator. Scout scrambles to find a way of the blind dates before Miss Pauling finds out and ends up adding more people to her to-kill list.
Rating: PG-13
Author's note: this exists solely because of this. I found it in my drafts last night and this piece practically wrote itself in an incredibly short amount of time.
For Sarah.
Years ago, Scout would've jumped at the chance of a blind date--literally, even--but now, he was pretty sure this was some kind of circle of hell. That wasn't saying she wasn't cute--she was. But she wasn't Miss Pauling, and that was all that mattered.
But what was he supposed to do? Bidwell was super close to old man Hale. If he turned down a date with his cousin, then he'd have to give an excuse. And they all were believed that Scout was still a manwhore supreme, down to fuck any lady who was willing. He had to keep up the charade, or he and Miss Pauling were toast.
So here he was, in this red booth of the local Teufort bar--the one which Demoman hadn't blown up, anyways. She kind of looked like Bidwell. Small, dark haired, with nervous, even nerdy traits. In fact, she kind of resembled Miss Pauling, but he couldn't see her gunning down zombies, and that was just a dealbreaker.
Usually, Scout didn't have a problem with talking, especially on dates. He bragged about himself, like some bird doing one of those ridiculous fluffy dances on the nature programs. But there was only one person he wanted to flex for and tell how rich he was, even if all she said was I know how much you make, Scout. I'm the one who pays you. Also, I make twenty times more...just saying.
'"Just gimme a sec, I gotta go take a leak."
"Mmn," she said. She nervously twisted her straw. Scout knew when a date was going bad--he'd had enough bad dates to tell all the signs. Now if he could just find a way to drive her away without hurting her. Not just because he wasn't a cad who wanted to break a girl's heart, but Bidwell was bros with Saxton Hale. If he hurt anybody near Bidwell, Scout would totally have a giant screaming Australian kicking down his door the next morning.
(As opposed to the giant screaming American who usually kicked down his door every day at dawn.)
Scout tried to walk as nonchalantly as possible towards the bathroom, despite every nerve in his body wanting to full out run, and not stop until he was all the way out of Teufort. He kicked away the sawdust across the floor. The discolored wood boards creaked beneath his feet as he headed towards the payphone between the bathrooms. He could smell the stench of bleach and something nasty wafting out, even from this far. He dug out a quarter and put it in the payphone.
Except this time it wasn't one phone call, and it wasn't Miss Pauling or his ma. Scout tapped his foot insistently as the rings came. "Come on...don't tell me you're gone..."
"Ayellooo?"
Good, Demoman was already drunk as shit. Then again, it was Demo, so it wasn't like this was too surprising.
"Demo, my man! I'm so glad you picked up! Listen, it's free beer city down here, you gotta come quick! It won't be right without you?"
"Free beer, ye say?"
"But only if you come in shirtless, and wearin' a kilt. Got that? I need you as shirtless as physically possible. Come in lookin' like a sex god or somethin'."
"Aye, I'm already there. I'll be head out in a second--and it will be a blast, I promise." He laughed heartily at his own joke, until the telephone seemed to clatter. Scout finally hung up, and hoped that Demo didn't blow himself up or pass out before he got there.
He could:
-go back to the date and have awkward small talk and hope that Miss Pauling didn't burst through the door with guns ablazing. Even though that would be pretty hot, and he'd love to see her right now.
-hide in the bathroom and pretend he had the megashits. Maybe tell some guy out there to tell the gal at booth five that he was dying from flu and exploding from both ends, until she was so grossed out and scared that she'd get what he had, that she bailed to do vitamin C shots, downed with orange juice in hopes she didn't get it.
Scout took the second option.
Nobody came in. It was the quietest bathroom in all of Teufort, though probably not the most clean. That was, until the door outside burst open. Scout could hear Demoman's booming voice even from all the way in here.
"AYE, The party's here!"
After several cheers and assorted woos, to say nothing of a few unidentified explosions, Scout finally left the relative safety of the bathroom.
The booth was empty, and his date was now taking shots with Demoman. Scout let out a sigh of relief. Thank God for Demoman's abs. He always knew they'd save the day one day.
Now all he had to do was finish his beer and head back to the base. Once it was late enough, he could sneak in with Miss Pauling, and maybe get lucky. (Or more likely, help her file paperwork and then eat junk food until she collapsed on the couch in her office in exhaustion.)
Scout suddenly realized he was in the shade. He looked up to see one hell of a massive man standing above him.
"Oh, hey Heavy. You here for the party? I don't usually see you drinkin' with the rest of us, just Medic."
"Little Scout, I have something important to say."
"O-oh?" A thousand thoughts filled his mind. What if something was wrong with Miss Pauling? What then?
"I have two sisters. They ask me to introduce them to my coworkers."
"Oh yeah, I remember them. We met back at your cabin."
And he'd told them how taken he was. Oh and he'd almost hooked up with Zhanna, but had been saved by the Shoulder Miss Pauling who told him not to burn stuff (outside of battle, at least.)
"I will give you first chance."
"You what now?"
"Before, you were noisy little boy who was always chasing after girls. But with Miss Pauling, you changed. You grew, and became good to women, good to her, Since that did not work out, I introduce you to my sisters. There are no prettier or stronger girls in all of Russia. They will make you forget about Miss Pauling."
No offense to his sisters, but nobody would ever make him forget about Miss Pauling.
He leaned in, and spoke softly, "Remember, if old Scout comes back, I will rip your spine out and beat you to death with it for breaking my sisters' hearts."
Scout swallowed. "U-uh, no problem there! I-I'm a total gentleman! Really!"
Scout could only gape as they came in. Somehow, they were still wearing coats and thick fur hats, in friggin' New Mexico, no less.
He had a vision of Heavy's face slowly becoming a mask of rage as he tried to explain that he wasn't going to date his sisters. Because what could he say? According to the official story, he was officially on the prowl and over Miss Pauling. And it'd be even worse for him if he rejected Heavy's sisters.
"I-I'm mean, great. Great to meet your sisters--"
"Too late," Heavy said.
Yana sat on Demoman's lap, while he had his arm about Bronislava's waist.
"Thank God," Scout said under his breath.
Heavy furrowed his brow. "Thank God? You... Are thankful to not meet my sisters? You think they are not good enough for you?"
"N-No man! I was raised Catholic. You always say thanks before you eat." He took a big gulp of his beer. "Beer too. You're takin' it in, so it counts. Anyways, looks like they already found somebody. On the bright side, look at all the explosive specialists you're gonna have in the family!"
Heavy let out a low groan and shook his head. He'd come around, Scout figured.
Speaking of the devil, Soldier's voice boomed almost as much as the explosions and broken door that followed.
"Scout!"
Scout flinched, and clutched tighter to his bottle. Soldier had a habit of breaking his limbs for extremely stupid and nonsensical reasons. Usually Medic fixed him right up, but last time, he'd been in a cast for months and months while he was in prison.
Soldier and Zhanna strode in amid the clouds of dust and debris. They were not wearing any clothes, or even honey this time. Somehow, Soldier did not get that it was the land of the free, home of the freaking pants and covering your ass. Zhanna followed suit, with only her long brown hair covering her massive breasts.
"Uh, you know this isn't a nudist colony, right?"
Heavy let out a long sigh and shook his head. "I need a drink."
"Right, see you, pally. Uh, hey, Soldier." Scout angled himself out of neck-snapping range.
"I stole your girl back then, during that double date, and I'm making up for you now. Zhanna and I found you a woman!"
Mentally he was going please let her not be bound and gagged and thrown over his shoulder caveman style, please, for the love of God..
But instead, it was the chicken girl he banged ages ago. She wore and even tighter tube top, and the chicken had made her gain a little bit more weight. She'd gotten a tan and a new platinum blond hair job which must've come out of a bottle, because it her hair looked about fried.
"Oh--"
His mind came up at a blank at her name. The only words he remembered were "extra crispy." Which he was pretty sure wasn't her name, but the type of order he'd made.
"We've met. Long time no see, Mr. Fried chicken."
"Eheheh, hey--"
"It's Brandi."
"Right, Brandi. I'm just no good with names."
"Eh, it's fine. I got shit memory too. I can't remember the phone number of the my third and fifth kids' fathers. Which is bullshit, because they owe me a ton of child support when I figure out their damn numbers. What's your name again, or should I just call you handsome Mr. Crispy?"
Kids? Scout had a feeling he really dodged a bullet.
A particular loud woo rose up. Scout glanced over, only to find that Zhanna, too, had joined her sisters around Demoman. Demoman poured beer down his abs, and Yana happily licked it up.
"Uh, dude, your wife."
Soldier let out a growl.
"You started the party without me!"
He shoved Yana aside to also began to furiously lick at Demoman's beer-covered abs.
"Damn, Demo's abs saved the day again."
"I'm going to go get a beer. I'll catch up with you later, Mr. Fried Chicken."
Did she even know his name? Scout couldn't remember if he'd given her a false name, or joked about being James Bond or what. He wasn't exactly the kind of guy who went up to random girls at the counter and went we both got buckets of chicken, wanna do it?
But yeah, he'd gotten some with that line. His game was nothing but A game, even if he was retired and only banging and dating Miss Pauling now.
He heard a distinctly French laugh, so stereotypically French that he was sure Spy was doing it just to annoy him. After all, he was pretty sure that was Spy's main motivation in life. He just sat around with his to-do list that had nothing but spy stuff, drink wine, smoke, and annoy Scout. Then he put up his legs and sighed in relief, because he knew his very existence annoyed Scout.
Oh, for fuck's sake...
"Here, a photo."
Scout looked it over. He immediately dropped the photo and drew back in revulsion.
"EYGH! WHat the hell, man!"
"That's--my ma. And your naked ass, and also she's not wearin' anythin'. What the hell, man?"
"Yes. I slept with your mother. Many times. Today, even. This lipstick on my collar? Hers."
"That's not helpin'! I don't fuckin' need to know that, and I certainly don't need pictures!"
"Too late, it is burned in your mind, forever."
Scout shook his head. Leave it to Spy to try and work hard to win the asshole of the year every single day of his life. He should give the jerk a trophy or something. "Biggest Douchebag in the universe."
"Fuck you, man."
It was only softer that he heard Spy say, "And you won't think about Miss Pauling any longer."
So the whole thing had been to traumatize him so much he'd be distracted from his heartache? Heh, some spy he was if he didn't even know that Scout and Miss Pauling were fucking like bunnies out there in the caves, and any other spare closet.
With another stupid French laugh, Spy disappeared into a cloud of smoke. Over at the beer orgy, Demoman ruled over like some bisexual god king. He even had a crown that someone gave him, though it was from Burger King.
But the parade of hell wasn't over yet. Engineer and Sniper sat down right across him at that booth. He hadn't
"Bloody Spook," Sniper said.
"Yeah, fuck him," Scout said.
At least he hadn't left the pornography starring his mother on the bar, but it was forever burned in his mind. Engie's voice cut through his traumatizing mental images.
"Now, listen up, boy. Since you struck out with Miss Pauling, and Demoman stole all your other chances, it's obvious no other woman's goin' to want you."
"Gee, thanks," Scout said dryly.
"I'll help. This is Daisy."
He passed a picture to Scout. It was a robot, but with tits. Said hunk of bolts was posed like a pin up.
"This is a robot. Dafuq you showin' me that for?" Scout said.
"That she is. A damn fine robot. I built her myself. Now, I already have my own prototype, but I can make another."
Sniper scoffed. "Too much work. All you need is a jar. Line it with something soft, and. stick your wang in there when you need some. Pretend it's an ass or a cunt, or whatever a little freak like you wants to fuck. Jars just ain't for pissin' in, you see."
Engineer shook his head. "Now, don't be crass. Maybe I should make him a Miss Pauling robot..."
Scout threw his hands up in exasperation. "I can get girls!"
Both Sniper and Engineer gave him a look of mixed pity and disbelief.
"Honest, like look over there!"
He pointed to where Brandi waited for her beer, and made eyes at Demo. He also now realized two things: Bidwell moonlit as a bartender all along, and he also had joined in the Demo party, and ignored all clients save for giving Demoman as much alcohol as possible.
"Banged her."
"Oh, who hasn't?" Sniper said dismissively.
"Medic," Engineer said.
"Talk about pointin' out the obvious, mate. She ain't exactly his type."
"So, he likes brunettes?" Scout said.
Engineer laughed so hard, he slapped his leg. Finally, he wiped a tear from his eyes. "Boy, you're too much. Speakin' of Medic. He told me to tell you if you want something. He sent a picture with it."
A stitched together Frankenstein's bride of a zombie was posed into a pin-up like position For some reason, she had a Heavy's head. Scout shuddered and tossed the picture away.
"I ain't fuckin' zombies and fuckin' abominations of life! Look, I'm doin' fine."
"He said there were other models, like this one."
This one was just Heavy, zombie version. He could only blink in disbelief at that one. A dude couldn't physically have a dong that big, right? Right? Doc had to have made it bigger, right? Either way, he wasn't ever going to look at Heavy the same way again. Also, in retrospect, Engineer's comment about Medic's type started to kind of make sense.
"Ain't into zombies, and I'm doin' fine. Seriously."
"You've been runnin' all the time. You barely show up to eat. She really did a number on you, mate," Sniper said.
Aw, jeez. There it was. What was he supposed to say? He couldn't just make up some speech about how she was just another girl, and he'd been stupid to catch feelings. Also he couldn't say all his running was straight to Miss Pauling's bedroom for another night of wild sex, and he missed dinner because he was eating with her, either. And that was when she wasn't the main course. But not in a zombie way.
Scout rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Miss Pauling...I mean, sure she's the best girl I ever met. She's amazing, she's real stupendous, a real dynamite gal. Nothing but the best... But...I'll be okay. I guess. Don't worry about me."
Engineer gave him another pitying look, and reached out an arm and patted him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit, son."
"Well, I've had about enough peoplin' as I can manage. Time to get enough beer to kill some braincells and pass out in my van," Sniper said. Which was about as much as a goodbye as he got.
"I'll make that Miss Pauling robot, just as a prototype. And you could give it a try," he said.
"Uh, right," Scout said.
"Seeya later, boy," Engineer said.
"Yeah, see you."
A few minutes after they'd left, Brandi sat across him. She adjusted her extremely tight tube top, and gave him a smile. "You know, I think you'd be a good father. You said you're real rich, right? Also, what did you say your name was again?"
Let's just say Scout felt better about forgeting her name after that.
Before Scout could answer, the door was violently pushed open. Miss Pauling stood there, and Scout was glad she didn't have a gun in her hands, because those green eyes were filled with murder.
The fact that her purple dress was splattered with so much blood--that she didn't even care who saw her like that, wasn't exactly comforting. But fuck, if she wasn't gorgeous. Like some battle goddess in a bloody purple dress that fit her wonderful curves perfectly.
She glanced over at the Demo party at the bar. For a moment, Scout was terrified that she would join them.
No! Demoman's abs were too powerful! Not even Miss Pauling was immune!
But it was him she marched straight towards.
"The only person whose children he's going to be fathering are mine."
Both Brandi and Scout were left full out gaping. In that moment of shock, awe, and possible future murders, Miss Pauling climbed up in his lap, and kissed him hard. Scout couldn't keep back a moan as she ground against his crotch. Her lips were amazing soft, and so was her incredible rack pressed hard against his chest. A little part of him wondered that if Demo could fuck in public, what about him? Did a guy have to be a drunk Scottish explosions expert to get some public fucking down here? Because he could seriously go with some boobs, right in his hands right this second with the way his day had been going.
"Oh, got together with your ex? I understand. I keep getting back together with my first husband all the time. You never forget your first love."
Scout couldn't exactly reply to Brandi, considering what Miss Pauling was doing to him. It was boner city, population him. He wrapped his arms about her waist, and really went to town with that kiss. Not even the explosions from the bar could make them break away. He wasn't about to let Demoman get away with all the public debauchery. Her lipstick smeared across his lips, then down his neck as she broke away just to leave a very visible hickey on his neck.
She pushed back, with a wild glance. Once she'd seen that Brandi had left, just as quickly as she'd climbed up, Miss Pauling slid off.
"Scout, we're leaving. Now," Miss Pauling said tersely.
"But-the secrets..." Scout gasped.
(And wondered how the hell he was going to walk all the way home with a hard on like this.)
"Fuck secrets," she said from between gritted teeth. "I can't take anymore of this."
She pushed through the doors, and Scout rushed to catch up with her. When he finally did, there was still deep rage in her green eyes. Uh-to-the-oh. When Miss Pauling got angry, people died.
Well, technically also when she was sleepy, sad, and happy, because it was her job. But people not on her to-kill list tended to die.
"Hey, Miss Pauling..."
She whirled around to face him. "You left your headset on! I can hear everything. Every single girl in a ten mile radius was trying to get into your pants! And also from what I heard, some mason jars and robots? I never thought I'd have to fight canning goods for your affection."
He left out the part where it was Demo who had been the chick (and dude, apparently) magnet.
"Everything?" He said a lot of dumb shit that he'd rather Miss Pauling not hear. Which meant she'd heard all his dumbass things, and loved him anyways.
"Everything," she said.
Oh boy did he need another drink right now. And a set of fine ass tits in his hands, but he'd have to wait for that.
"Listen, looks like we'll have to get some beer somewhere else."
"I'll deal with the clean up later. At least I don't have to bury any bodies this time."
"I mean, Soldier and Zhanna are here, so don't count on that," Scout said.
She smiled, and he smiled and they sorted just shared a moment there outside the bar. The streetlights had just came on and glowed orange and made it romantic and crap.
"The thought that somebody else could get their claws into you...." She let out a soft sigh and shook her head. "I apparently have a thing for loud dumbasses who don't know how to shut up."
Scout broke into a big grin. "That's me! I'm a loud dumbass! I don't keep my mouth shut ever! I even talk in my sleep!"
His joy was short-lived as he came tumbling down back into the big problem.
"What about the Administrator, though? Ain't we hidin' out from her? I mean, I like my dick! I like it attached to my body and not cut off because she didn't want me fuckin' around with her assistant!"
"I like your dick too, and I'll do whatever I can to keep it attached to your body." Her lips thinned at the mention of their violent, despotic boss. "She'll just have to deal. If she wants me working 364 days a year, then the only choice I have is dating my coworker."
Crap, did that mean he was sloppy seconds? No, wait! He was way too awesome to be the plan B! ...Right? Right?
Like she'd read his mind, Miss Pauling continued.
"I'd date you even if I had weekends off," she said. She took a deep breath, and continued, "I completely love you, and I don't want to share you with anybody! Understood? I don't ever want to come into a bar and find it crawling with women who are trying to date you and steal you away from me!"
It was like a heavenly chorus broke out, but it was better because it was her, in love with him. Him, winning the jackpot.
"You love me? Because I totally love you! Like nobody even compares!"
She gave him a tender look. "I know. You scream it while you're running sometimes. I can hear everything on that headset, remember?"
"Oh, right. So, uh, Miss Pauling. You really want me to father your kids? Because we can get started on the way back."
She smiled. "Why let Demoman have all the fun?"
