fic: She's The Devil In Disguise
Jan. 2nd, 2019 09:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: She's The Devil In Disguise
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1852
Summary: Scout was waiting for those little words from Miss Pauling. The love confession he actually gets is rather unexpected, and quite a bit bloodier.
Author's note: I saw
this prompt and had to write it immediately.
Canon typical violence. Post Expiration Date but not associated with the current canon of TF comics.
For Sarah.
Their haul of bodies was gone and buried today. In the late twilight, she drove them home. His feet were on the dash, and Scout felt on the verge of nodding off. He kept rubbing his hands across the seat, which was mostly worn off from constant bleachings, and had a few cigarette burns and bullet holes. The stripes had almost completely faded to mottled gray. Fighting in matching all day and then heading off to help Miss Pauling on jobs was taking cartons of BONK and twenty cups of coffee to get through--and he he was still exhausted. But he flew wide awake when the truck swerved to a sudden stop on the side of the road.
"Whoa! What the---Somethin' the matter, Miss Pauling?" Scout said.
Scout quickly looked back. There wasn't any sirens or flashing lights, no gunfire to duck and grab for his gun for a twilight shootout.
He rested his palm gently against her arm, because she was the most trigger happy person he'd ever met--and that was even counting Soldier, who had broken his limbs more times than he could even remember.
She clutched the wheel tight and stared down at the road. There was nothing this far out, but bleached bones and miles of sand. And rocks, man there were rocks every-freaking-where out here. And those little bastards were always getting stuck in his shoes.
All her curves were silhouetted in the coming dark. He couldn't even see the bloodstains on her purple dress in this light. It all just blended in until it looked like she just wore a dress with patterns, instead of the remains of all the people she'd brutally dismembered that day.
Miss Pauling in that moment was the whole reason why the phrase pretty as a picture was invented. He'd snap one, but she hated evidence and would probably just steal it away. She all he could do was memorize the little dark wisps of hair that had fallen free from her bun, the way the last gold clouds reflected off her glasses, and those big green eyes that he'd never get tired of staring back at her.
"Didja see somethin'?"
"Well, you could say I finally saw was right in front of me the whole time," she said.
Like what, the road? He sure hoped she saw the road the whole time, or they'd be crashing into the canyon. Even if he'd come back less than a minute later, it'd still be a pretty shitty way to end the night.
"The truth is... It’s…weird. When I see you, I don’t get the sudden and compelling urge to murder. I…I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before..."
Scout glanced over at her warily. "Uh….thank you…?"
She quickly looked towards him. There was nothing but hope and enthusiasm bursting out from her. "I know, right? I mean you work hard to make me want to murder you with the way you run around screaming about dispensers and BONK, and how you used to flirt with every damn person in a ten mile radius or more, or how you stole a briefcase--but I don't, not even a little!"
Scout's eyes widened at this confession. He had dreamed about this moment for a real long time and it was not going as planned, that was for sure. In his mind Miss Pauling would say something like oh, Scout! I've been in love with you and your massive guns for so long, please let me kiss your biceps already! You're so handsome and charming and rich, I'd be glad to be Mrs. Scout forever, let's get married immediately, right after we fuck like bunnies in the back of this truck!
Murder wasn't even in the equation for all his daydreams. But being as it was Miss Pauling, he should've known.
She continued on, "And it's so weird. I'm not used to being around someone and just...not wanting to murder them. I mean there's so many good ways to kill a person."
She began to count on her fingers as she listed the ways, "There's the classic, through the heart, and between the eyes, dismembering while they scream for mercy, straight into the woodchipper, flayed alive, fed to lions, and of course stabbing someone in the back...and there's so many reasons to want to kill someone. Like they cut me off in traffic or they stole my lunch from the fridge, or they stole a briefcase... But, this is entirely new territory for me. There's so many people in the world I want to brutally murder, and yet somehow, you're just not one of them."
She smiled so sweetly, and it sure was a contrast to everything she just said.
"Er, good? Hope it remains this way," Scout said awkwardly.
"Oh, it should. Unless you go back to flirting with everyone. The only reason I didn't want to murder you for that was because technically, I had no claim on you at that point. It really wouldn't do for me to be completely irrational. So I focused all those feelings on killing other people instead. And it was difficult. Not killing those people, that was easy. Really easy, actually."
Come to think of it, there'd been that point where all the staff around the place just up and went and disappeared. Apparently they'd crossed Miss Pauling the wrong way, or maybe just crossed her path at all.
"Oh, I checked a book to see if that was part of the symptoms of love, but if anything wanting to murder someone seems a common theme. Why do couples in fiction seem to hate each other so much? I really can't tell," Miss Pauling said.
"Eh, that don't mean it's real. There's books about green slime monsters and we ain't faced anythin' like that. Yeah, not wantin' to kill someone is definitely a sign of carin'," he said.
She brightened at this. "You think so? Oh, and I also don't want you to die, either! That's another thing I noticed. I actually found myself getting upset when you get hurt on the field. I mean I always have a bit. You just die so easily out there."
"Not that easily," Scout protested.
"I counted at least twenty five times in a single match, and I didn't catch it all because I had to go to the bathroom midway through. There might've been more."
"Eh, everyone has off days."
"I mean, I don't want other people murdering you as well..."
She reached out suddenly and gripped his hands tight. "If you die for good I'll hire Medic to bring you back, or go up there and fight death for your soul back. It should be easy to get it back if you're going to hell, but knowing you, you'd probably go to heaven and then I'd have to cross the threshold of a church and speak to Saint Peter again, and that would be so much more difficult. I do it, though. I'd do it all for you."
"What the hell, Miss P? Y-You're talkin' like you're on speakin' terms with death," Scout said.
"Oh, I am. Death and the the devil exist. Death says at this point I might as well be considered his assistant. And, in fact, the devil is related to the Administrator. Second cousins, I think? He's always so afraid that she'll go steal his throne. Of course, there was that time that the Bombonomicon took over for a bit, but that was just because the devil had some family business to attend to.
That means I'm directly in the line to the throne of hell."
Scout gaped at these revelations. "What?"
"Oh, you didn't know? The Administrator is my mother. Saxton Hale always said I got my extreme lust for blood from her. That and my hair," she said.
Somehow, she looked so innocent through it all as she talked about....that kind of stuff. Bodies and hell and what the hell had he gotten himself into?
Scout was stunned as he took in all the news. Miss Pauling's version of I like you was I don't want to murder you? She wasn't entirely human? She was related to the Administrator? That meant the freaking Administrator would be his mother-in-law if they got hitched.
All those jokes about the guy's mother-in-law being the literal devil came back to him now. He never thought they'd be so damn relevant to his life.
"Is everything okay? You're awful quiet," she said.
She reached out and squeezed his hand. Maybe for good luck or comfort, or just to reassure him that she didn't want to kill him. Miss Pauling's green eyes looked so hopeful and full of intensity as she held on tight to him.
And yet, Scout didn't run away. Maybe he was a complete dumbass for going after the girl that everyone told him was too smart for him, too dangerous, too willing to kill somebody in cold blood and then hide the body and make him help. But his feelings didn't stop. They weren't just something he could turn off like that.
And yeah, Miss Pauling was more dangerous and deadly than even Scout ever thought. But on the bright side, if she didn't want to murder him after all that he'd done back then, she was never gonna wanna murder him.
So, maybe there'd be some things to get used to. Like he could probably throw out the idea of having a church wedding out, and having to explain to his ma that his kids couldn't get baptized Catholic, or anything, really. That Thanksgiving dinner might get real interesting when his extended family showed up. But what was new? They never had a family holiday that didn't end in at least one fistfight.
But, he was here for all of it. The killing together part, the burying bodies part, and even the meeting the in-laws part.
One thing was for sure, Miss Pauling sure wasn't like any girl he'd ever known. Like, he'd known she was one of a kind, but he didn't realize that kind wasn't entirely human. Though, Scout had read enough Sci-Fi comics to think it was pretty hot to have his own bloodthirsty monster girlfriend. Logic be damned, he never listened to that anyways.
"Yeah, everythin's fine," Scout said.
*
Author's note: I suddenly had flashbacks of playing the game Misao with this fic, haha.
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1852
Summary: Scout was waiting for those little words from Miss Pauling. The love confession he actually gets is rather unexpected, and quite a bit bloodier.
Author's note: I saw
this prompt and had to write it immediately.
Canon typical violence. Post Expiration Date but not associated with the current canon of TF comics.
For Sarah.
Their haul of bodies was gone and buried today. In the late twilight, she drove them home. His feet were on the dash, and Scout felt on the verge of nodding off. He kept rubbing his hands across the seat, which was mostly worn off from constant bleachings, and had a few cigarette burns and bullet holes. The stripes had almost completely faded to mottled gray. Fighting in matching all day and then heading off to help Miss Pauling on jobs was taking cartons of BONK and twenty cups of coffee to get through--and he he was still exhausted. But he flew wide awake when the truck swerved to a sudden stop on the side of the road.
"Whoa! What the---Somethin' the matter, Miss Pauling?" Scout said.
Scout quickly looked back. There wasn't any sirens or flashing lights, no gunfire to duck and grab for his gun for a twilight shootout.
He rested his palm gently against her arm, because she was the most trigger happy person he'd ever met--and that was even counting Soldier, who had broken his limbs more times than he could even remember.
She clutched the wheel tight and stared down at the road. There was nothing this far out, but bleached bones and miles of sand. And rocks, man there were rocks every-freaking-where out here. And those little bastards were always getting stuck in his shoes.
All her curves were silhouetted in the coming dark. He couldn't even see the bloodstains on her purple dress in this light. It all just blended in until it looked like she just wore a dress with patterns, instead of the remains of all the people she'd brutally dismembered that day.
Miss Pauling in that moment was the whole reason why the phrase pretty as a picture was invented. He'd snap one, but she hated evidence and would probably just steal it away. She all he could do was memorize the little dark wisps of hair that had fallen free from her bun, the way the last gold clouds reflected off her glasses, and those big green eyes that he'd never get tired of staring back at her.
"Didja see somethin'?"
"Well, you could say I finally saw was right in front of me the whole time," she said.
Like what, the road? He sure hoped she saw the road the whole time, or they'd be crashing into the canyon. Even if he'd come back less than a minute later, it'd still be a pretty shitty way to end the night.
"The truth is... It’s…weird. When I see you, I don’t get the sudden and compelling urge to murder. I…I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before..."
Scout glanced over at her warily. "Uh….thank you…?"
She quickly looked towards him. There was nothing but hope and enthusiasm bursting out from her. "I know, right? I mean you work hard to make me want to murder you with the way you run around screaming about dispensers and BONK, and how you used to flirt with every damn person in a ten mile radius or more, or how you stole a briefcase--but I don't, not even a little!"
Scout's eyes widened at this confession. He had dreamed about this moment for a real long time and it was not going as planned, that was for sure. In his mind Miss Pauling would say something like oh, Scout! I've been in love with you and your massive guns for so long, please let me kiss your biceps already! You're so handsome and charming and rich, I'd be glad to be Mrs. Scout forever, let's get married immediately, right after we fuck like bunnies in the back of this truck!
Murder wasn't even in the equation for all his daydreams. But being as it was Miss Pauling, he should've known.
She continued on, "And it's so weird. I'm not used to being around someone and just...not wanting to murder them. I mean there's so many good ways to kill a person."
She began to count on her fingers as she listed the ways, "There's the classic, through the heart, and between the eyes, dismembering while they scream for mercy, straight into the woodchipper, flayed alive, fed to lions, and of course stabbing someone in the back...and there's so many reasons to want to kill someone. Like they cut me off in traffic or they stole my lunch from the fridge, or they stole a briefcase... But, this is entirely new territory for me. There's so many people in the world I want to brutally murder, and yet somehow, you're just not one of them."
She smiled so sweetly, and it sure was a contrast to everything she just said.
"Er, good? Hope it remains this way," Scout said awkwardly.
"Oh, it should. Unless you go back to flirting with everyone. The only reason I didn't want to murder you for that was because technically, I had no claim on you at that point. It really wouldn't do for me to be completely irrational. So I focused all those feelings on killing other people instead. And it was difficult. Not killing those people, that was easy. Really easy, actually."
Come to think of it, there'd been that point where all the staff around the place just up and went and disappeared. Apparently they'd crossed Miss Pauling the wrong way, or maybe just crossed her path at all.
"Oh, I checked a book to see if that was part of the symptoms of love, but if anything wanting to murder someone seems a common theme. Why do couples in fiction seem to hate each other so much? I really can't tell," Miss Pauling said.
"Eh, that don't mean it's real. There's books about green slime monsters and we ain't faced anythin' like that. Yeah, not wantin' to kill someone is definitely a sign of carin'," he said.
She brightened at this. "You think so? Oh, and I also don't want you to die, either! That's another thing I noticed. I actually found myself getting upset when you get hurt on the field. I mean I always have a bit. You just die so easily out there."
"Not that easily," Scout protested.
"I counted at least twenty five times in a single match, and I didn't catch it all because I had to go to the bathroom midway through. There might've been more."
"Eh, everyone has off days."
"I mean, I don't want other people murdering you as well..."
She reached out suddenly and gripped his hands tight. "If you die for good I'll hire Medic to bring you back, or go up there and fight death for your soul back. It should be easy to get it back if you're going to hell, but knowing you, you'd probably go to heaven and then I'd have to cross the threshold of a church and speak to Saint Peter again, and that would be so much more difficult. I do it, though. I'd do it all for you."
"What the hell, Miss P? Y-You're talkin' like you're on speakin' terms with death," Scout said.
"Oh, I am. Death and the the devil exist. Death says at this point I might as well be considered his assistant. And, in fact, the devil is related to the Administrator. Second cousins, I think? He's always so afraid that she'll go steal his throne. Of course, there was that time that the Bombonomicon took over for a bit, but that was just because the devil had some family business to attend to.
That means I'm directly in the line to the throne of hell."
Scout gaped at these revelations. "What?"
"Oh, you didn't know? The Administrator is my mother. Saxton Hale always said I got my extreme lust for blood from her. That and my hair," she said.
Somehow, she looked so innocent through it all as she talked about....that kind of stuff. Bodies and hell and what the hell had he gotten himself into?
Scout was stunned as he took in all the news. Miss Pauling's version of I like you was I don't want to murder you? She wasn't entirely human? She was related to the Administrator? That meant the freaking Administrator would be his mother-in-law if they got hitched.
All those jokes about the guy's mother-in-law being the literal devil came back to him now. He never thought they'd be so damn relevant to his life.
"Is everything okay? You're awful quiet," she said.
She reached out and squeezed his hand. Maybe for good luck or comfort, or just to reassure him that she didn't want to kill him. Miss Pauling's green eyes looked so hopeful and full of intensity as she held on tight to him.
And yet, Scout didn't run away. Maybe he was a complete dumbass for going after the girl that everyone told him was too smart for him, too dangerous, too willing to kill somebody in cold blood and then hide the body and make him help. But his feelings didn't stop. They weren't just something he could turn off like that.
And yeah, Miss Pauling was more dangerous and deadly than even Scout ever thought. But on the bright side, if she didn't want to murder him after all that he'd done back then, she was never gonna wanna murder him.
So, maybe there'd be some things to get used to. Like he could probably throw out the idea of having a church wedding out, and having to explain to his ma that his kids couldn't get baptized Catholic, or anything, really. That Thanksgiving dinner might get real interesting when his extended family showed up. But what was new? They never had a family holiday that didn't end in at least one fistfight.
But, he was here for all of it. The killing together part, the burying bodies part, and even the meeting the in-laws part.
One thing was for sure, Miss Pauling sure wasn't like any girl he'd ever known. Like, he'd known she was one of a kind, but he didn't realize that kind wasn't entirely human. Though, Scout had read enough Sci-Fi comics to think it was pretty hot to have his own bloodthirsty monster girlfriend. Logic be damned, he never listened to that anyways.
"Yeah, everythin's fine," Scout said.
*
Author's note: I suddenly had flashbacks of playing the game Misao with this fic, haha.
