fic: All's Fair In Love And War

[bonnefois]

Title: All's Fair In Love And War
Series: TF2
Character/Pairing: RED Demoman/BLU Soldier, RED Scout/Miss Pauling, ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 11,181
Summary: When Scout realizes that RED Demoman and BLU Soldier were a lot closer than he ever guessed, he decides to fix everything Miss Pauling undid, with chaotic consequences. His efforts get Miss Pauling's undivided attention (and wrath) much to his pleasure.
Author's note: There was this prompt at TF2chan asking for the opposite of Homophobic!Scout, namely Scout working to get a pair together.

This is actually a fic I've been working on since 2012? 2013ish? Because of this, it isn't really current timeline compliant or whatever. Though I did put in Expiration Date and Shoulder Pauling references for the hell of it as I worked on it through the years.

Oh yeah, Canon-typical gore warning here.

For Sarah!!



Scout cringed when he heard the glass shattering. If it'd been back in Southie, he would've gotten the ruler, the belt, or somebody's fist leaving bruises the size of Texas on him.

Here, he'd probably get choked. Or kicked. Or shot. Or blown apart. Scout thought for a moment about playing it off as somebody else's ball. In Southie, land of the Red Sox fans, it might've worked, but here? Some of them didn't even like sports.

Scout climbed up those stairs, with a wary glance for any screams of FREEDOM, just in case.

He peeked in the first open door he found. It was tartarn and weird science crap, plus explosives, to say nothing of the empty bottles across the floor. Scout let out a low whistle. Whoa, somebody had a party last night. This was enough booze for a whole room of people. The guy had to have a liver made of steel.

"Hey, Demoman, you seen my ball?"

From under his thick plaid blanket, Demoman let out a groan.

"I don't know anythin' about ye balls. Go wash them...Play with them yourself..."

He heard another groan deep from under the covers. There were empty wrappers strewn across the floor, and enough bottles that he could probably build something with them if he wanted. Maybe if he ever needed his own fortress of solitude, he'd make it out of all these bottles. He was sure Engie could give him some pointers.

He hadn't seen Demoman this bad since that fling with Medic's ex-wife had gone south.

"You need some orange juice or somethin'? I can go make a run. I owe you one from last time, anyways," Scout said.

"Under the bed....I've got some medicine. Please, laddie boy. If ye ever had any mercy..."

"Sure, gotcha."

Scout peered under the bed, and gripped tight to a shoebox. He heard something rattle inside, and pushed it back to look further. Demoman was like a magpie with round stuff when he got drunk enough. Either that or he just really didn't like Scout's baseballs, though Scout couldn't frigging fathom why anyone wouldn't like those.

"Packet of stuff, right?"

"Right. Pour it into the Scrumpy," Demoman said.

It took Scout a few seconds to find a full bottle. Around him, the bottles clanked and clattered. Demoman let out another groan from under the covers, like he was dying.

Scout opened up the bottle, spilling white powder all over the place. He edged it under the rug to hide the evidence, and handed the bottle upwards.

He hadn't closed the shoebox right off. As Scout bent to put it away, he caught sight of stacks of pictures. A familiar face drew him in. He pushed them aside and plucked it right up.

The first was a picture of Soldier and Demoman at the museum, taking in a game of football, and then a really large one of Soldier wearing nothing but honey. He remembered that date, even. Soldier had been a total drag and taken home both girls while Scout had to even walk home in the rain. She'd been cute, too.

Not as cute as Miss Pauling, but cute.

He had this minute where the gears got stuck on he keeps naked pictures of dudes under his bed, except, hey, there was a girly mag. And more pictures of Soldier, except this time there wasn't any honey... In fact, Soldier kind of looked like a pin up with that pose.

Something he never, ever wanted to think of his teammate. The guy was like his brother. Okay, he was a great deal more violent and homicidal than Scout's brothers, which was really saying something, but still! They'd fought together, side by side, that had to make them blood brothers or something.

(He felt that about most of the guys. Except Medic. It was like the old saying went: Steal my kidneys while I'm sleeping once, shame on me. Steal my kidneys twice while I'm sleeping and I shoot you in the face.)

He heard a cough, and looked to his shoulder. A small Miss Pauling was perched there, her little arms on her curvy hips, like some guardian fairy angel who kept him from being too much of a jackass. He loved it when she appeared, though mostly she was telling him not to punch things.

"What, you like hot dogs and tacos when you watch baseball games. It's perfectly normal."

"I didn't say it was bad or anythin'. Just--This ain't food, Miss P," Scout said.

"So? Some of us like more than one gender."

Scout liked tits so much, he kind of couldn't get it. Technically, if all guys looked like Demoman--ripped, handsome like a superhero that DC Comics needed to hire immediately, and Miss Pauling didn't exist, who knows? Maybe sucking dick granted magic powers. It'd explain a lot about Merasmus.

But most guys he knew were allergic to showers, and spent most of their time trying to rip off his leg and beat him to death with the bloody stump. You know, like brothers do. Scout smiled as he remembered the time Heavy had tried to chase him down, rip out his spine. Of course, the big guy couldn't catch an incredible fast, rich, handsome kinda guy like him.

It was all in good fun. Real nostalgic, just like old times.

Maybe he couldn't figure going for dudes, or anyone but Miss Pauling nowadays, but in the end, it didn't really change anything, did it? It was still Demo. The fact that he liked tits and dicks certainly didn't make him any less of a fighter, storyteller, or friend.

In fact, maybe it made him more badass on the battlefield. All this time Scout had been pestering Demoman to tell him his secrets, but Demo always said it was just boozing until all those brain cells and reason got flushed down the toilet.

And all this time his secret power was banging both dudes and chicks!

Scout felt a rush of jealousy. It wasn't enough that Demo had to be practically a legendary hero and could name off science crap even when he wasn't drunk, now he was sexy and dating everyone too? Not even somebody as awesome as Scout could keep up. How was he supposed to compete with somebody who was a sex god to all genders? Stupid Demoman raising the bar to impossible levels.

Scout rubbed at his neck. "Man, people like that probably get tons of ass on the weekends. Doublin' your chance, really. So...guys and gals?"

He glanced over towards his Shoulder Pauling. She glowed, and had cute little fairy wings the fluttered with sparkling dust.

"You think he's into me?" Scout said.

Shoulder Miss Pauling rolled her eyes.. "Hardly. You see naked pictures of you all over the place?"

Scout grinned. "Nah, those are all on your walls, right?"

She laughed, and covered her pretty mouth with one delicate hand. "You wish."

"Yeah, I do. I really do," Scout said.

Even the Shoulder Pauling in his mind didn't have time to date him. That was his life, all right.

He could walk out, or he could do something about it. As his Ma would tell anyone who asked, Scout never did take the smart choice, and he never missed a chance to put his foot in his mouth.

Scout knelt beside the bed. "So, you and the other Soldier, huh?"

Demoman threw the covers off, and faced him. There was a blankness born of pain there in his expression. "I don't know what ye mean."

"Hey, I don't know everythin' about friendship―"

"Never thought I'd hear those words comin' out of yae mouth," Demoman said.

Scout talked over him. "―but you probably don't keep naked pictures for nothin'. I sure as hell don't keep naked pictures of my pals around. Not even from that naked bondin' retreat Saxton Hale took us all too. About froze my balls off out there, wrestlin' wildlife." Scout shook his head. "Apparently that's what he thinks is a good time. I prefer not friggin' frostbite on my ass."

Demoman shook his head. "You can't even go through a day without drawing pornography of half the men and public buildings."

Scout smirked. "Ain't my fault Spy and the Eiffel tower are meant for each other. He walks around like he's got a giant tower up his ass, and that French tower fits."

"Ye are playin' with fire on that one, laddie boy," Demoman said. He broke out coughing, and let out a groan. "Not that I can say anythin'. I've not just played with fire, but Infernal fire. Imgine drawin' pornography, but of nasty things from across the veil. I've mooned the fae queen and she's comin' for my ass."

"Well, I mean whatever makes you happy I guess," Scout said. He shifted his weight, and pulled out a picture of them together. Arm in arm, lifting beers to the camera. They must've asked a stranger to catch the moment.

"The other Soldier, huh? I double-dated with our Soldier once. The fucker went and stole all the girls and convinced them to take down communism with him. That was our Soldier, though."

Demoman paused under the covers. "Aye, he's got all he charm. No wonder they followed him."

"Wait, you serious about him?" Scout said.

Demoman let out a sigh and shook his head. "Not anymore."

His voice turned quiet, breaking at the very end with untold sadness. "We ain't anythin' but enemies now."

Scout sat down beside the bed, his back to the wall.

"That must be hard, seein' him every day."

"Well, gettin' to blow him to pieces on a regular basis helps," Demoman said.

Scout snickered. "I still miss my ex, but my aim is getting better!"

Demoman laughed, then broke into a coughing fit. "Ach, laddie boy, not now. Keep yae wit to yaeself. At least until the hangover wears off."

"Sorry, I can't help bein' brilliant. I just got too much awesome―I can't keep it to myself."

Scout hadn't really dated enough to have that awkward ex stage. There were hook-ups which never got nasty and he didn't remember names, and then there was Miss Pauling, but with her it was always not now, Scout, we're being attacked by aliens and not now, Scout, Merasmus came to kill us all again and not now, we're being attacked by sentient evil bread again. Whose idea was it to spend all day teleporting bread? We just got rid of the evil bread, dammit! and it'd never really gotten anywhere. He kept clinging to the fact that there was that date which might come some day, somehow. He'd probably have to stop time to ever get enough time to ever go on that date they'd been talking about.

Maybe he had to start punching wizards. That was how Soldier usually got things going. Then again, that was how they got the evil bread, the wizard attacks, the skeletons, but surprisingly enough, not the aliens.

"Man, you must get tons of ass. I knew you were popular with the ladies, but dudes too?" Scout shook his head. "This is like a whole level. I feel like I should give you a salute. Are your belts just nothin' but notches?"

Demoman broke into a coughing fit. "Ach, usually it's alcohol I go home with."

"I know that feelin'," Scout said. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "But...even if you get all that ass, you don't get the one ass you really want. And maybe it gets borin', so you stay in and drink, because goin' out with the girls...or guys, in your case.. don't mean nothin', because it ain't them. It ain't the right ass. Because somewhere along the line, you got weirdly picky and though there's plenty of hot people out there, all you want is that one, sweet ass. And you'd do anything just to spend a few moments with them. Y'know?"

Scout picked up one of the less naked photos of the other team's soldier. He grinned at the camera, his eyes hidden away by his helmet, which was covered with American flag stickers.

"What are you goin' to do about it?"

"Do? Nothin' to be done, lad." Demoman grunted, and reached for his bottle. "Nothin' good about bringing up old wounds. Just let them fester, and pour some more whiskey on them."

"That's no good."

He set the picture back in the box and started to rustle through his duffel bag. After a few moments, he pulled out a water bottle out, and tossed it Demoman's way.

"This'll help."

"Thanks, lad." Demoman took a long drink, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "That's life. Love doesn't work out. Ye get a demon sword instead to watch episodes of Ghost Prosecutor with."

But that couldn't be life. Demoman was way too cool to be sad and alone. And Scout knew there was only one guy awesome enough in the world to fix it.

Him, of course.

"I'll help you! I know tons of stuff. Just call me Mr. Love Fix-It!"

Demoman winced. "Yell a little louder, why don't ye? My brain hasn't exploded completely yet."

"Sorry, I just got way into the plans. A shame I don't got anythin' greasy handy. I can go for some burgers or somethin'. Bacon, peanut butter, that'll all help."

"Ye know a whole lot about hangovers, lad," Demoman said.

"Tons of brothers, also got a ma who could drink anybody under the table," Scout said.

"And apparently those genes skipped ye," Demoman said.

"Hey, I got a body like a Ferrari. I gotta keep it in shape. I can't be drinkin' all night, or I'll be hungover and get blown apart."

"Blown apart more than usual," Demoman said.

Scout rolled his eyes. "Let's see you dodge those fuckin' rockets."

"The secret is ye fight fire with fire. Bombs with bombs. Jump on your own grenades and go flyin'."

Scout shook his head. "That's some fucked up king of genius."

Demoman smiled. "It helps to be drunk."

"Wait―that's what you say about everythin'. Includin' heartbreak, dates, and the job. Are you sayin' that alcohol is the meaning of life?"

"Nah, it just makes life bearable," Demoman said.

"Okay, so we'll get a six pack before we start," Scout said.

"Ach, yae are helpin' me? Just look at ye track record. Rejected by every woman ye meet, and the wee lassie still ain't given ye a second look–"

"Hey, I'll have you know I had a girl before. Ain't like I'm a virgin or anythin'," Scout said.

"Well, fuck me, one whole girl? That makes ye a bloody expert. I'll just call ye the love god!"

"Besides, she's given me a second look," Scout muttered. " Mostly to tell him to stop leaking secret documents, but it still counted. Just her job gets in the way. We had a date planned and everything."

"Whatever ye say," Demoman said.

"Okay, I got it. You are one lucky guy, because you are going to get a brilliant Scout plan."

"Ain't that an oxymoron?"

"You won't be callin' me a moron when you hear it. Listen, listen--You and me have to be ultimate bros."

"Brothers? Aye, yae mum has some explainin' to do. Especially since I met me own mum before."

"You know, Brothers from another mother!"

Demoman lifted up one eyebrow. "Are ye comin' on to me?"

"What? No! I am totally into Miss Pauling! Also how would callin' you my brother be a come on? I mean, what the fuck, dude?"

"Good, because ye are much too skinny for me," Demoman said. He took a long sip of his flask.

"Ah, that hits the spot. Ye see, I have but one type. No matter what the gender, they've got to be able to be strong enough to wrestle a bear."

Scout had to wonder if Demo had a thing for Saxton Hale, too. Because nobody wrestled bears like that guy. Except maybe Heavy. But apparently he was married or something? He kept talking about going back to his family.

"Well, I mean, if I was goin' to go for a dude, I'd probably go for you, becase you're really cool, but I'm not. I'm totally straight for Miss Pauling--" Scout said. It all came out in a jumble. Really, it was the kind of thing that was better with a couple beers in him.

Demoman laughed so hard he broke out coughing and clutched his head. "Not with those arms, you wouldn't."

Scout gave him a dirty look. "Hey, I have a runner's thighs. Also, my ass is fantastic."

Demoman shook his head. "Eh, I've seen better lookin' in my own mirror."

"Yo, that deserves an ass-off war―but later. We gotta be bros for this. Besides, we'd need judges for that..."

"I bet ye would nominate Miss Pauling."

"Damn right, I would!"

Demoman chuckled. "Fine then, I'll take that challenge later. And--laddie boy. Don't ye worry about Miss Pauling. Wouldn't go for her, even if she wasn't a little pipsqueak of a thing, with only barely more muscles than ye have. After all, ye did call dibs. No man with honor would ignore dibs a friend called."

"Really? You would do that for me?"

Demoman nodded. "Aye, that's what friends do."

"Wait, you think we're friends? Score! We're friiieeends! Best brooos!" Scout punched up in the air in sheer triumph.

"I thought we already were, laddie boy. Friends, that is. I let ye into my room and didn't blow ye to smithereens. Either I'm losin' it, or we're friends."

"Aww, you're the best, Demo, my man! We have to be bros. The best friends imaginable!"

"Friends? How is that goin' to fix anythin'? Friendship never fixed a damn thing," Demoman said.

"You can go fuck any girl...or guy, I guess in your case--and not remember their name at all. You can sleep with anyone and have them mean nothin' at all. But friends? Friends are somethin' special. You generally remember your friends' names! You don't sleep with them once and then never hit it again, except maybe if the bar is really empty, and the shit you tell them matters. Trust me, when he gets a load of us bein' the bestest friends that ever were, goin' around in all the places you used to go with him, he is goin' to get over whatever the hell made it go like this, and probably break my neck. But that is somethin' I'm willin' to do for you."

"Friends, eh," Demoman said.

"And we gotta do all this bro stuff it in public. We'll make him so friggin' jealous that he's been replaced and I'm your best friend now, that he'll have to fess up."

"And how do ye know that he hasn't moved on?"

Scout rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'll have to go all James Bond-like, and sneak in. Make sure he ain't got no gal, guy, or sexbot stowed away. Anyways, gotta bounce and start out my scoutin'. Remember: We. Are. Bros!"

Scout rushed out the door before Demoman could roast him some more.


*

Outside of Demoman's rooms, a wine glass floated in mid-air.

"We haunted by drunken ghosts, now?" Scout said.

Out of the clouds appearched a fucking asshole of a Frenchman in a super expensive suit.

"So the spooks ain't just drunken, they're stinky and French, too."

Spy raised one eyebrow. "Truly, that is the pinnacle of insults. My heart is utterly crushed, I will have to retreat back to my homeland with utter shame." He said this all completely flat.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck you," Scout said.

"Your wit knows no bounds."

"Do you have anythin' to do other than follow me around and insult me? You must be awful bored kinda guy," Scout said.

"I see you're trying to mend something that's been long broken..." Spy ran his finger around the rim of his glass.

"God, do you even have a hobby? This is gettin' weird. Last time I was in the shower you were like 'I see you have abysmal taste in shampoo, also you're out of milk' What the hell, man?"

"Occupational hazard," Spy said, smiling to himself.

"The big guys hirin' you to spy on me?"

"No, they hire Miss Pauling to do that. I have another oh so lovely client whose bidding I follow."

Scout zeroed in on one thing and one thing alone. "Miss Pauling keeps an eye on me?"

"That's what you get got out of that?" Spy shook his head, and muttered hopeless, utterly hopeless.

He glanced back towards Scout.

"I don't suppose you'd know how it happened," Spy said.

"Demoman didn't say much. Somethin' about betrayal or what not. He got a sword out of it, though."

"Miss Pauling," Spy said.

He suddenly had all of Scout's attention. "Wait---what about her? Is she here?" Scout craned his neck to see the room. "I don't see her!"

"Miss Pauling bribed and lied to them, just as she helped destroy their friendship. Do you think their falling out simply happened organically?"

"You--you're friggin' paranoid. She wouldn't do that. Miss Pauling takes care of us."

"Ah, but she would, if the Voice requested it. She is the Voice's ever loyal assistant after all. And the Voice so does love to blackmail and threaten us if we step out of line."

"What's your damage? You-you're a Spy. Lyin' and backstabbin's your while schtick! And you're here, actin' like you're so innocent..."

"The rosy colored glasses need to come off sometime. She kills people for a living, Scout," Spy said bluntly. All artifice and smoke and mirrors were cast aside.

"And?" Scout said. "You make it sound like that's a bad thing. So do I! I probably would've even if I didn't go here, I mean come on."

"I have never seen anyone with such an utter lack of sense, intelligence and well being. It's almost admirable, like some utter freak of nature. A lemming in human form."

Scout rolled his eyes. "Whatever, you windbag. Now would you friggin' move already?"

Spy took a drink and stepped aside. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Scout had places to go and things to do. But he made enough time to give Spy a one finger salute as he headed out.

He always had more than enough time to tell Spy to fuck off.

*
When he got down those stairs, Scout glanced towards his shoulder.

"Hey, Miss Pauling, you mess with them?"

The Miss Pauling curled on his shoulder was silent. He wanted her to say "oh definitely not" and then maybe go on about how handsome he was, but she only did that in his dreams. Not the Shoulder Pauling, who mostly told him not to be a fucking dumbass again.

"What do you think? If you haven't figured it out already, I work for the Administrator."

It was an answer and not an answer in one.

Even his shoulder Pauling wasn't denying it. Scout rubbed at his nose. He still couldn't believe it. She worked so hard to get them out of jail and keep the whole place free from body parts. Granted, she was the one who caused most of those body parts, and she always delivered the monthly blackmail tapes they got when they messed up. And the guys were always messing up.

"Wait... You're not tellin' me I'm a jackass and this is a stupid plan for once," he said.

He had all these plans that started good and just ended in more questions. Every time he thought he'd found something, he'd hear Miss Pauling telling him to stop it. She'd become the angel on his shoulder lately, to join the voice of his ma telling him to stop bein' a little asshole and givin' her gray hair. Between the two of them and Respawn, he might just stay alive.

Ma sure wasn't the devil on his shoulder, so what did that make Miss Pauling? Maybe he was just the lucky kinda SOB who got TWO angels on his shoulder.

She gave him one of those Scout, you utter dumbass looks that he'd been getting from his ma, nuns, and everybody else he met since about the time he started talking.

"On a scale of one to ten of stupid things you've planned, this is a two," Shoulder Pauling said.

And for Scout, that might as well have been a full speed ahead.


*

The laundry place was all unguarded, because who the fuck would steal laundry?

Him, that's who!

He grabbed a red shirt and shoved a blue one right under it and took off so fast that the cameras that he must've appeared like a complete blur to those cameras that were everywhere, probably even in the john and showers.

(He hoped that there were cameras in the showers for Miss Pauling's sake. She worked hard, and barely ever got a break. She deserved to get a great view of his ass every day. Just a look at his incredibly handsome naked body was almost like a vacation, really.)

When he got far enough, Scout quickly shoved the red shirt he'd been wearing in his bag. He slipped on the blue shirt and became another person.

Then, the next part of Operation Bro started.

His heartbeat was pulsing quick, like he'd run miles in minutes as he approached the door of the other base. He waited at the front door, shifting his weight from leg to leg, like he was dying to take a piss.

After the whole big thing with a friendship between teams, they'd upped the security. But as he put his hand on that fancy bit of machinery, he tried to play it cool. Like he was just BLU Scout, out for some ass that wasn't Miss Pauling, because that fucker better fucking not.

"Come on, come on..."

Identity verified.

"Yes!" Scout let out a whoop and rushed in the door. Because he'd look a hell of a lot more conspicuous if he wasn't rushing somewhere. The only thing more conspicuous than a slow Scout was a quiet one.

Unless Soldier broke both his legs and shoved a sock down his throat again.

In the rush of getting in, it only sort of came to him that they really skimped on security, if all it took to get in was a different colored shirt.

He caught a hint of purple and skidded to a stop. He just barely missed slamming into a wall, and at the incredible speeds he was going, he would've probably broken something. It was either The Voice From Hell, or the best assistant known to man. Emphasis on the ass.

Scout broke into a big smile when he found out it was the latter. Was Miss Pauling hanging with the BLUs all this time, or was he just the luckiest SOB in this world, who managed to hit the exact moment Miss Pauling headed in?

"Heeyyy, Miss Pauling!. Great job you're doin' there."

He winked, giving her his full attention for a moment.

He tried to keep his eyes on her eyes, or face area, at least. Which wasn't too hard because they were green and utterly gorgeous behind those big glasses that were always falling down. It was half to prove to himself that he could, even when she had the most killer curves filling out that purple dress known to all woman kind, and half to be a real romantic, a fucking gentleman who looked a girl in the eyes and didn't spend the night trying to figure out what her measurements were.

At least, not when she was in the room. When he was alone, hey it was fair game. He wasn't seeing anybody else and he even threw out all his pin-ups. He had to do something so he didn't die of blueballsitis.

She looked up from her pencilboard, and tilted her head slightly. "Scout?"

Man, he loved the way she said his name. Well, his code name, or like he liked to think of it, his superhero name.

"Great...assistant stuff! I gotta go do Scouty stuff, you know, runnin' and bein' awesome, but you know my number!" He made sign for call me mimicking a phone to his ear with his pinkie and thumb. "You got any spare time, any at all, just hit me up! In fact, call me up if you don't have spare time. Because you never do. Right! Seeya!"

Miss Pauling stared after him a long while. Scout didn't blame her; his ass was fantastic.

*

Scout found out pretty quick that the other Soldier didn't actually have a room. Or at least he had at one point, but he'd blown it up so many times that it caved int something that looked post-apocalyptic. He stepped over raccoons, which made chittering noises and hissed as they headed back towards the several large cardboard boxes which had been pulled into his room.

Scout had to be real sneaky, like Spy, but actually cool and not a complete asshole. Even when he was in a good mood, his team's Soldier left Scout with broken bones more often than not. Because Soldier was always one second away from a fit of rage that left Scout dragging what was left of his body to Medic.

And digging through Soldier's stuff? Yeah, that was right on the road to ragetown. Scout would probably get his spine broken and ripped out and be beaten to death with it if BLU Soldier caught him.

"Gotta do it for Demo, because we're Bros," Scout said under his breath.

He tossed aside old magazines, random garbage--which he honestly couldn't tell if the raccoons or Soldier had dragged back to this lair.

Finally, he uncovered a tin under a pile of bones.

"What do we have here?"

He opened up the tin and peered in. Inside were pictures that mirrored what he'd seen in Demoman's room, right down to the nudie pic Except it was If he wasn't still holding a torch, then he would've torched it. Really, simple as that. Nobody kept stuff from an ex they hated.

A trash can rattled, and Scout couldn't tell if it was the Racoons looking for a snack, or Soldier deciding to get himself a hat, or maybe a sheild to bash Scout to death. Scout desperately looked to every exit. Which one would lead him away from the Angry American Guy Who Wanted To Choke Him? His heartbeat rocketed as the panick set in. He couldn't just walk out there, and what if Soldier was on the other side?

Finally, he caught sight of the one place Soldier couldn't be: the window. It was jagged with glass, likely from some explosion. Or maybe Soldier tried to cook and it didn't go so well.

Scout grabbed a tin can and launched it at that window. He didn't have time to clear it up anymore.

"Sure hope you're happy, friggin' Demo. I'm gonna get freakin' rabies from this glass," Scout muttered.

Out the window, out the window. Even past the pain as the glass cut into his skin. Scout crawled up that drain pipe like there was a shotgun with his name on it--and there probably was.

Scout stood on the roof of that enemy base. But a frigging explosion sent him running.

"I have you now, you thieving hippie!"

"Fuuuck!"

Scout booked it out there, as the rockets red glare were headed straight towards his ass. He took a flying leap over the rooftops and landed on another dilapidated building.

Heh, that'd show him. Before Scout could even yell out an insult, he heard an explosion. But, shit! Soldier rocket jumped across the air.

Time to go into overdrive.

Not that he was worried that anybody would see him hopping roofs like a freaking superhero. To anyone else, it might be suspicious. But for Scout? It was just another day.

While rockets filled the air, Scout leap up, he slid down those tiles and ripped off that blue shirt as fast as he could. Then he rushed into the nearest open door it was. As it was, it happened to be the infirmary. Heavy, Medic and assorted doves were all in the middle of a tea party on that infirmary stretcher. They had little tea cakes and everything.

Scout ran shirtless and screaming right into their party. The doves rose up in flight.

Heavy let out a sigh and lifted the tea cup to his lips. It was laughably small in his hands.

Scout nearly slammed into that wall as he doubled back. But he just missed it by inches.

He grabbed one of those desserts.

"If you see Soldier, tell him I wasn't here. Also tell him 'fuck you'--from me."

Scout shoved the cake in his mouth and took off through the alleys between the buildings. He caught Miss Pauling with a bag that probably had body parts in it in one hand, and a shovel in the other.

He stopped screaming just long enough to yell out Hey, Miss Pauling!

"Scout, what the fuuu---"

He disappeared across the corner before Miss Pauling.

He had two choices. Jump or die.

Wait, the dumpster was like Soldier's home! Raccoons were his friends, and he spoke its language. Scout rushed up those stairs, nearly knocking Sniper over in the process and got a red shirt over his incredible abs as soon as he could. Like a superhero, he was back to himself again. Except instead of Batman from Bruce Wayne, he was Discount Second Rate Scout back into Cool Scout.

Then, with his heart thundering in his chest from exertion, he headed over to Demoman's.

*

Somehow in the period that Scout left, Demoman had managed to go from sober to drunk again.

"Aww, come on, man! I just went through hell! Your boyfriend nearly killed me! The least you could do was go get a hangover breakfast instead!"

"I already live in hell. Leave me be..."

"Oh, fuck that."

Scout took a long breath. The rockets had stopped, so Miss Pauling must've sent Soldier back. Or he gave up. But Scout liked to think Miss Pauling had saved his life again. It was a nice kinda feeling. Warm and fuzzy, like a winter coat all around him.

He'd focus on the thoughts of Miss Pauling soon enough--they always came. He had another part of Operation Bro to go."

"Aight, soberin' time!"

"Ugh, lad shut it―"

"This is for your own good, Demo," Scout said.

He should have a frigging medal in sobering people up. Hell, he sure had a lot of practice. He searched through the room. Nothing he could whip up a Bloody Mary for. No orange juice handy, and Miss Pauling was always telling him not to drink the stuff from here and drink bottled water instead. However, Soldier had turned that water tower into a heap of metal, and if he could get past the twisted metal, he could dunk Demoman.

Scout led a furiously swearing Demoman down those stairs and outside.

In the middle of the base, Sniper took a whetstone to his big frigging knife.

"Hey, Sniper! Where's the nearest body of water?"

"It isn't even noon yet, and you're out here drownin' your teammates?"

"Nah, I wouldn't do that! I save the drownin' for Spy, Pyro and Soldier when he's being a jackass again," Scout said. He grinned big, the whole hey, this is a joke, see, joke! Sniper didn't smile back.

"Ughhhhh, kill me," Demoman muttered.

"Later, later, on the battlefield, with my amazin' skills and crazy-good looks."

Demoman followed stumbling, still plenty drunk.

"Eh, some cold will do."

Scout managed to get water out of that water. First, he poured the water over himself, then he sprayed that water up in the air. Colors caught in the droplets. Demoman let a shriek as it hit his dark skin. Scout laughed, because sure it was so cold enough to make his balls shrivel, it was a friend thing! A stupid thing done with friends!

And what was better than guys bein' bros? Well, Miss Pauling and the Red Sox and pizza, or all three somehow combined, but it was definitely up there.

He would've given Sniper one, too, because damn if that guy could use a shower, but Sniper would've stabbed him in the kidney if he did that.

That sure sobered him up.

"See? Friends! We're both frickin' soaked. All right, step one, passed."

"Bloody hell, that's colder than a witch's tit! If there wasn't three of ye, I'd blow y-yae..."

"Three? Dude, maybe you need some water."

Scout dug into his bag and tossed a water bottle towards Demoman. It landed near his boots.

"You were supposed to catch it!"

"Bloody boyo..." Demoman muttered. But he downed the drink in one massive gulp, and wiped the lingering moisture from his lips.

"How is makin' Sniper think ye are drownin' me goin' to solve anythin'?"

"Just trust me, my plans always worked. I survived stealin' a briefcase, didn't I?"

"Nobody in the entire world ever thought that was a good idea!"

Scout pointed both thumbs to his chest. "I'm alive, ain't I? I got a date with Miss Pauling someday, don't I?"

"The hell, I should blow ye up to the moon."

"I got one better. You and me are startin' bro time right now. Because I know that Soldier still is into you, and Operation Brotherhood is ON!"

Demoman let out a long groan. That was okay. Scout had enough enthusiasm for the both of them.

*

The the center of Teufort, there was a single photobooth that saw a lot of use. About every lovey dovey couple and plenty of the teen friends would get in there. Sometimes, it got so bad, there was a line that spanned all the way down the road.

Today, though, it was empty. But not for long.

"Oh, Jimmy, look! A photobooth! How romantic..."

"Oh, Jenny, darling!"

A young blond rich fuck couple strolled towards that only photobooth around. They had romance on the mind, but not while Scout was on duty! They'd probably make out in there for hours if Scout didn't get there first.

Scout surged forward in a burst of speed. Demoman struggled to keep up, but that was no surprise.

"MOVE IT, COMIN' THROUGH! OUT OF THE WAY, IT'S BRO TIME!"

The lady let out a cry, and the guy, wearing some kind of argyle sweater vest like a complete nerd stood in front of her. Like that'd save them

If Scout cared. Which he didn't.

He all but dragged Demoman in with him and closed those curtains right in the couple's face.

"A bloody photobooth? What kind of damn plan is this?" Demoman burst out.

"A frickin' brilliant one, that's what. Now smile for the friggin' camera, we got some friendship to knock it out of the park."

Demoman had bloodshot eyes, and looked like he wanted to kill somebody in a really brutal way--so it was pretty much normal. Besides, someone like Soldier would appreciate the gritty realism.

"Now smile for the camera, and try and look a little less hungover, would you?"

"Wouldn't be believable if I didn't look it," Demoman said.

"Eh, you got a point there."

Scout put his arm around Demoman's back, or tried, really. Demoman was taller than him, bigger than him, and he even liked dudes and girls. Scout had to admit, if anybody was gonna challenge him in the looks department, it would be this guy.

"So, just say 'cheese' okay?"

"Cheese," Demoman said, except he pronounced it with the same kind of energy as somebody would say fuck you.

Hell, it was a start.

*

Demoman sipped at his water on the bench outside the base. Scout exited out of the Mann co store, with two bags in hand. He tossed something Demoman's way. It landed in his lap.

"Put it on," Scout said.

Demoman lifted up the bracelet and grimaced, like he'd just smelled something disgusting.

"I'd rather wear shackles," Demoman said.

"C'mon! The plan, remember?"

"Boyo, those 'friendship bracelets are for twelve year old girls."

"Nah, man. This is the Mannly friendship bracelet!"

Saxton Hale winked at the camera and gave a thumbs up. The slogan said So Mannly, You'll Think You Died And Became Australian!

"See? It's like made of rope and crap. There's even a tiny survival knife at the end, so if you and I ever get stuck out in the desert together, we can make it!"

"More likely I'll cut off my bloody dick with it when I'm takin' a drunk piss."

Scout flinched in sympathy pains. "Okay, keep the knife in its sheath and you'll probably be okay."

"Eh, wouldn't be the first time it happened," Demomand said.

Scout could only stare wide-eyed in horror at that. "Y-You're kiddin', right? Right?"

"It's hard life. At least Medic is always there to heal me up."

Scout could only cough at that. And cross his legs. Thankfully, that was one injury he'd never had.

"I'd never joke cuttin' off my willy."

"Jeez, man," Scout said.

He sat down next to Demoman. "Okay, we got phase one done. Hold onto your ass--and your dick, because you will not believe how amazing phase two is gonna be!"

And despite himself, that cranky, hungover frown dissolved into relatively sober laughter. Scout smiled. Demoman hadn't been smiling lately. It was pretty much worth it that he almost got exploded all over the desert, just to see his friend happy again.

*

Scout hummed as he put up the photos on the communal bulletin board. He'd gotten the deluxe package from the photobooth. After the first few hungover ones, Demoman had actually gotten into the spirit.

In one, they stuck their tongue out at the cameras together. In another, Demoman had his arms about Scout's shoulders, as they both flipped off the camera. There were pictures caught of them out drinking together, with glasses lifted for more.

Each one had a border of Best friends with little red stars.

Sadly, there was no option for Demoman's New Best Friend, Unlike His Smelly Old Stupid Ex-Friend Who Broke His Heart, but Scout figured the pictures implied it anyways.

Just to be sure, he put it below in pen. Soldier had suffered a whole lot of head injuries over the years, and it took a whole lot to get through his thick skull.

Now he just had to wait.

Crap. Waiting. Being patient was his one weakness. Well, that and Miss Pauling. Come to think of it, he'd spent most of his time waiting for Miss Pauling, too. Until he wondered if that wasn't her middle name.

Scout shrugged. If it worked, he'd know by the next match.

*

The next day, Scout fucking swaggered into the white waiting room as he waited for the match to start. The guys were there. Heavy and Medic leaned in to speak to each other. Engineer kept going through his tools. Sniper kicked back a thermos of coffee--filling ammo, probably.

"Check out this friendship bracelet guys! Ain't nobody else got a friendship bracelet like this, and it's just right, because get this―we're best friends!"

"Get a room, mate," Sniper muttered.

"I'll buy a whole damn room, and fill it to the hilt with pictures of how much fun I'm havin' with my pal!"

"Friendship? Oh, Scout," he said. Heavy patted him on the shoulder hard enough that Scout stumbled forward with the sheer force. "One day you too will understand that friendship can lead to a very different...kind of relationship."

"He will realize eventually," Medic said, nodding.

"You're right! That's because we're best friends. Ain't just no boring low-ballin' friendship, this is the real deal!"

"''Balling' indeed." He smiled, and shared a weird look with Heavy. Did Scout know what the hell that was? No. Did he care? Also no. Germans were weird anyways. Always stealing his organs and crap. Also, what the fuck was up with Leiderhosen?

Then, the gates opened, and the rockets started pouring in.

Scout knew his plan was working when he died two steps out of the Respawn room.

That battle, he spent a good ninety-nine percent of it dodging rockets. The other one percent was him getting hit and blown into pieces by those rockets. Soldier tailed him like he wore long hair, and had a button on that said Communism Is Great, Actually, And Also Fuck America.

"You hippie! Red Scum!"

"Yeah, he's my friend now! In fact, we're goin' to get matchin' friendship tattoos on our asses. That's just how good a friends we are!"

The helmet fell back, and fury burned in his blue eyes.

"We were going to get matching tattoos on OUR asses!"

"Well, too late! We're best friends now!"

And that was the last thing before Soldier got ahold of him by the neck and kicked that death rate up from 1% to 100%.

The whole rest of that match, Scout spent being painfully dismembered, shoveled to death, and rocketed into oblivion every single damn time he left the Respawn room.

"For, bros..." Scout said between gritted teeth as he set out to die in agony again.

*

The minute that Scout got out of the showers after his match, Scout wondered if he didn't die for real because one gorgeous tiny purple angel was waiting for them. No, him, It had to be for him. Her arms were crossed over that amazing chest of hers.

"In my office, please," she said.

Scout was practically vibrating with excitement. He wouldn't just hear orders, he'd get a real face to face with Miss Pauling and everything! He went so fast into her office that he was almost floating over those stairs.

Her office was tiny, filled with guns and papers were stacked so high on that desk, he could barely see her face. Which was a damn shame, because it was a real pretty sort of face.

"You were in the BLU base yesterday," she said.

Scout laughed nervously. "What? What? I mean―come on, everyone knows I go runnin' about that time. Like clockwork. I'm nothin' if not dependable."

"Scout, cut the crap. He doesn't look at me the way you do. I know damn well it was you. Especially as I saw you again running shirtless while BLU Soldier tried to kill you," she said.

"...You can tell us apart?" Scout said, his voice full of wonder.

"Of course," she said.

This only sent Scout's excitement into overdrive. He couldn't bear to sit still, and leapt up from the chair. "Seriously? That must mean I'm your favorite!"

"I didn't say that," she said.

"But, it's implied!"

She continued on, without addressing that.

"Besides, he's sleeping with half his teammates, and you're---not."

Scout coughed. He was filled with mixed feelings. On one hand, that was one more person he probably didn't have to worry about making a serious play towards Miss P. On the other hand, BLU was getting more ass than he ever would.

Though technically it didn't matter anymore because the only ass he wanted to be getting was Miss Pauling's. He was a romantic like that. Still, mad props. Maybe he'd high-five the guy sometime after he kicked his ass.

Her gaze was intense damn sexy, in a hot teacher sort of way. Like she'd take that ruler and tell him what a bad, bad, bad boy he was.

"In fact, you aren't sleeping with anybody at all. You stopped after then...that day with the bread."

Scout leaned back in his chair and gave her a smile that really said it all. Like, she could fix that right that second, right on that desk. He wasn't picky. Not with balls this blue. If they got anymore blue, he'd get mistaken for the other team.

"Yeah, there's only one person I'd want to be datin'."

Was it hot in here, or was it just him? Because her cheeks looked awful pink after that. God, he wanted to kiss them. And her.

For a long moment, she took out a pen. She looked almost like she was gonna say something, but then stopped.

But Scout had a sudden thought that crept up on him. And for once, it wasn't a plan about how he and Miss Pauling would be Dating For Real, and was about BLU Scout.

"So, wait--instead of our evil twins, they're like our gay twins from an alternate universe?" Scout said. "Wait, does that mean we REDs are the evil ones?"

She laughed, and mirth filled those beautiful green eyes of her. "You think your team is completely straight? Oh, Scout."

"Wait, what? They're all into dudes too? Why don't nobody tell me this stuff?"

She counted off on her fingers. "Sniper isn't into anyone or anything, and this counts for both of them, Both Engies are into robots, I mean really into robots. Both Heavy and Medics are married under fake identities in Guam, Bidwell's been in love with Saxton Hale for years, both Spies is playing for both teams, like all the Demomen, Soldiers and also fittingly enough, m--Oh, I've said too much," she said. Her cheeks flushed at that.

Dang, maybe his whole team was getting more ass than him. He'd have to give them high-fives, too. A sudden wonderful realization hit him. Almost his entire team was into guys or taken. That meant he was the only available guy for at least twenty miles for Miss Pauling. Dating him would be like multitasking, and Miss Pauling loved multitasking.

"Maybe it was me," Scout said. He took his cap off, and smoothed down his hair. He gave her the most winning smile he had. For this girl, he had to bring out the big guns. Thankfully, he had massive guns. And by guns he meant his biceps. Though his scattergun was pretty big, too.

"I know damn well it was you. You winked and told me to call you. The only time BLU Scout has ever done to me was that was to piss you off, because you're the one he hasn't gotten in his bed yet, and he hates his record being ruined like that."

Damn, apparently BLU was the one with a belt full of notches. He'd have to give the guy who might be his evil, or just really gay clone a high five sometime. Too bad Hallmark didn't make Thanks for being super gay so there's one less person in the way of me having a shot with Miss Pauling cards. He really needed to mail them and tell them to get with the times already.

"So wait a minute, all the others are basically the same, why do I get the super gay BLU side?"

"I think karmically you were so straight that the world had to compesate somehow. There couldn't be that much heterosexuality in one place, or the world would explode. So, BLU Scout came about. He's like you in every way, except he's gay. I mean super, super gay. I think he's the gayest person in the entire world."

Scout grinned. "Yeah, I'm an original! Can't be copied!"

"Well, it is an anomaly, to be sure. All the others are mirrors of each other," Miss Pauling said. She smiled a little at that.

However, that smile disappeared as she continued.

"If you've been hiding something, then you best fess up before I have to report you to the Administrator." She clicked her pen. "I didn't think you'd be a traitor."

Scout waved his hands in front of him. "Whoa, whoa, I ain't no traitor. The only thing I've got hidden away is all this affection I got for you."

"That's hardly hidden. You bought a plane to write Miss Pauling, call me in the sky."

And it had worked--well, she ended up calling him to reprimand him for maybe accidentally putting some details about where their base was to the outsiders and havin' a pilot fly over there, but he still got to hear her voice. So it was worth it.

Miss Pauling sighed and pushed her glasses up with one finger. "I don't get what you're thinking. Posting pictures all around about your---I literally saw the words 'bromance' used in one of them. I don't even know what that means, and I don't think I want to."

"That was Spy writin' in some. What, a guy can't go around on trips with his friends now?"

"You pasted them all over the other team's quarters, you broke into the BLU base for no descernible reason. You even bought friendship bracelets. Somehow this feels very performative."

"I gotta show BLU what they're missin'. And awesome friendships are one of them."

"You do know that friendship is a punchable offense in this line of work, don't you?" She paused. "Of course you don't, you didn't read your contract."

"Hey, I was distracted, you know me," Scout said.

She shook her head. "This is getting nowhere, but consider this a warning. Whatever you're doing, the Administrator isn't going to like it."

Scout cleared his throat. "Hey, Miss Pauling....about then, what we talked about in that--"

An explosion so loud that the whole foundations seemed to rock echoed outside. Miss Pauling suddenly got up from her desk. The desk overturned in her hurry to reach the window.

She stared out at the plume of smoke with wide eyes. "Oh, oh, oh no. This is bad. I've got to fix this."

She rushed out, leaving Scout stuttering about that date they were supposed to go on. The sad thing was, it wasn't even the first time, and probably wouldn't be the last.

*

Scout got down the stairs to find the explosions were two demolitions experts (expert being a relative term in regards to Soldier here) facing off, and turning the base into Swiss cheese in the process.

Like, full of wholes. Not actual cheese. Bombs that turned stuff into cheese would be super rad, though.

"You mocked my record! I opened up, and you mocked it!" Soldier burst out.

Demoman pointed his thumb to his chest. "Ach, I did no such thing."

The helmet tipped back, and Soldier's blue eyes were full of fury. Usually by this time, Scout would be choked half to death. But all he did was grip tighter to his rocket launcher. So tight that Scout was surprised the hunk of trash salvage didn't fall apart.

"I saw it, right on that screen! And everyone knows technology never lies. Miss Pauling told me so and everything."

"What about the robots, ye fool? Didn't they lie?"

"So you're saying that we were tricked?" Soldier burst out.

"Ye fool, as if I'd ever turn on ye stupid, sexy ass. Just because we're on separate teams doesn't mean I've forgotten. The time at the eye museum. The trips out to watch sports, drinkin' out under the stars, then that first time..."

"Maybe it was some asshole who worked with you," Scout said.

Both Soldier and Demoman glared at him.

"What? I'm just sayin'! Maybe it was like, a Spy or somethin'! He fucks around with my stuff all the time. Maybe he went and messed with your stuff, too."

"Please, as if I'd waste my time," came a voice from above. Apparently Spy had been watching from a top level window cloaked the whole time.

"Wastin' time? You literally spend all your day mockin' me about how much you like s-spendin' time with ma."

"I make time for you. Imbeciles like him, however, are of no use to me."

"I'm American, you fool! Not some kind of communist imbecile. The capital of Imbecile is probably Communistland!"

Scout didn't even have to look at the guy to know Spy rolled his eyes at that one. Hell, Scout was a dumbass and a half, and even he knew what an imbecile was. Mostly because Spy called him it daily, between reminding him again how much time he spent with Scout's ma. For the record, he only had to go to the dictionary to find out what it meant the first time Spy called him that.

"Like Miss Pauling," Demoman said.

Scout whirled around, with his fists lifted. "What? She wouldn't do that! I know her, she's cool! Even more than cool she's awesome, totally awesome!"

"She was the one who showed us those tapes. She was the one who offered the weapons. She was the one in charge," Demoman said.

Scout shifted. "Maybe that top lady forced her to do it. Like a gun to her head. She's way too nice; she wouldn't do somethin' like this and mean it!"

A cold voice cut through them all. "What do you think you all are doing?"

"Speak of the devil and she shall appear," Demoman said under his breath.

Scout, however, burst into a huge smile. "Miss Pauling! See, tell 'em, I was just sayin', you wouldn't do somethin' like break their friendship apart."

Miss Pauling lifted her gun. It was a little derringer which she probably could fit in a purse. Soldier looked like he was on the verge of laughing at that tiny gun, which probably wasn't the brightest thing to do when Miss Pauling had a gun pointed his way.

"Friendship between teams is strictly forbidden. The Administrator isn't even fond of friendship between the same team members. She however, tolerates it for the sake of teamwork. There's nothing good that come of an inter-team friendship," she said.

"I told you so," Spy said, from his perch up in the second story.

"Shut it, Spy. Nobody likes you!"

"Your mother says otherwise," Spy said.

"Really not the time, Spy," Miss Pauling said.

Just when Scout thought he couldn't like her anymore, she had to go and tell Spy off. Be still his heart.

"We're far more than friends, wee lassie. Even after all this time, it hasn't faded," Demoman said sadly.

Soldier gestured angrily towards Scout. Scout took that as a chance to step closer to the safety of being near Miss Pauling. "You said this bean pole was your best friend! You're...doing everything you did with me, with him!"

"Ach, that was his plan to bring you near. Ye know I'd never bed somebody so skinny and tiny. Besides, he's in love with Miss Pauling. Everybody knows it. Hell, little green men on the moon probably know it by now with how he can never shut up."

Her cheeks turned pink at this, but she didn't pull her gun down. At least it wasn't pointed at him.

"Nobody could replace ye. Nobody."

"Tavish--"

"Come here, ye bloddy oaf. I missed ye."

They dropped their guns (and swords, and shovels, and more guns, and more swords) and embraced right there in the middle of the base. Soldier's helmet fell back to fall on the ground as they kissed. In the buildings all around them smoked and flames erupted. Scout looked back warily as he heard another explosion as the roof caved in on the nearest building, which happened to be the mess hall.

If he didn't get to eat because of this, he was going to be real freaking pissed.

Still, amid all the chaos, Miss Pauling was super calm. She lowered her gun, and pushed the wisps of dark hair which had come out of her bun out of her face.

"Well...Technically there's no rules against having sex with people on the other team, or your own team. The only stipulation is friendship. Just fight a lot and she probably won't care. And I mean a lot. Fight every damn day," Miss Pauling said.

"Aye, got that covered," Demoman said.

"We'll blow the base up!" Soldier said cheerfully.

"You already did," Miss Pauling said in exasperation. "You need to start getting the buckets of water out. Saxton Hale skimped on sprinklers, and we are not having the fire department anywhere near here. So many of these buildings aren't up to code."

"Just a moment, wee lassie. Just one more kiss."

"Oh, fine," Miss Pauling said.

Scout grinned. All his work had paid off, and Demoman wasn't sad anymore. And he'd seen Miss Pauling more in a couple days than he had in weeks. He smiled at her and she smiled back. Life was good.

*


Cold metal floor, cold shock of water on his face. He grinned at the mirror, then stopped. "Okay, you handsome devil. You gotta get this perfect. Ummm."

He cleared his throat before he spoke again. "Hey there, Miss Pauling. Nice day ain't it? Speaking of the day, what are you doin' today?"

Had a nice ring to it, sort of like a song. He might just keep this one.

"Hey there, Miss Pauling. Workin' hard again? Haha, yeah, speakin' of workin' hard, when do you get off? Can I help you carry that? Did I mention I'm super strong? You probably guessed it, by these incredible guns."

Scout flexed to the mirror. One day, he'd be flexing for her.

In his mind she'd be so wowed, she'd just drop that pen of hers and possibly her panties too as she all but leapt into his arms.

Spy was popular with the ladies--and apparently, the dudes. If anything, that meant he'd get twice the advice. Maybe he'd even teach Scout how to disappear like some awesome James Bond kinda guy. Now there was something which would make him really irresistible.

But knowing Spy, he'd be a giant jackass about it. Scout kicked a rock and watched it sail down the dusty hill. Last time, he'd made Scout completely humiliate himself over the sound system. The guys laughed so much about that, it almost made Scout wish he really had kicked the bucket.

Except, then he wouldn't get to see Miss Pauling. And hear her order him around every day.

He filed it away, a bucket list. Maybe if he was on death's door with just hours to live he'd come crawling to Spy again, but until then, there was a whole notebook full of plans and many variations of Miss Pauling and his name inside of hearts with arrows through them.

Besides, the fixing stuff was pretty fun. The Spy on his team and the Sniper on the other side didn't get along. Maybe he should make them all friendship bracelets, too, until they had a more healthy kind of frenemyship.

Come to think about it, he could leave a ton of messages on Miss Pauling's mail and not get a single call back, but the minute he started trying to get Demoman and Soldier back together, she was right up in his face and he saw her more in a day than he had in months.

That was the thing he was looking for. He hadn't even thought that grabbing that briefcase had gotten her attention. Of course, the old trick of being bad to get attention! Why hadn't he thought of that before?

He winked up at the camera. it's not like Spy needed that extra invisibility watch. He probably wouldn't even notice that Scout borrowed it.

He was wrapped up in smoke. He could be the biggest asshole imaginable. He could trip any chuckeheads who passed, he could pull down their pants and paint their faces with sharpied mustaches while they slept. Scout could barely see how Spy managed to ever get anything done. If he had invisibility like this, so many dicks would get drawn on walls and faces.

But, he was a man with a mission. He pulled out the lipstick he'd gotten from Spy's things. He was still unclear if it actually belonged to him or not. Scout scrawled YOU SUCK across Sniper's front window in that ruby red lipstick.

And for emphasis, he stabbed Spy's knife straight into the back tire.

That'd get them to talk their issues through. After they killed each other about a dozen times, that was.

*

Scout chuckled to himself as he saw that camper van just flying through the desert. Some people said a good deed was its own reward, but he got one better, as he heard Miss Pauling's voice over his ear piece.

"You're doing it again, Scout. It's only been a week for fuck's sake."

"You need a trench coat or maybe some binoculars over there for a better view," Scout said.

"What I need is for you to not make my job harder," she said.

"I think you mean makin' your job easier by my bro-magic."

"Now that they're together, they blow up twice as much as before."

"Yeah, but um, Soldier usually kills less people when he's not heartbroken and full of angries," Scout said.

"They're getting celebration drunk now. Three bars have been razed to the ground with their explosions."

""Yeah, but weren't five done before when they were both sad? Like I couldn't even go to bars anymore because they blew up every one outside of Teufort. Though I stopped anyways. No fun goin' to bars without you there."

She let out a sigh. "Actually, you're right. I'd forgotten how bad it is when they leave the base."

Sweetest words he ever heard.

"Anyways, I'm goin' for a run and breakin' in these new short shorts. If you wanna see me all sweaty and workin' out, then go ahead. I'll be happy for the company. After that, I'm goin' to go visit my pals." He let that linger, so she could put together the fact that he'd be in BLU base again reaal quick.

There was silence over the ear piece.

"Seeya later, Miss Pauling. Oh yeah, and--Enjoy the view."

Scout headed out into the desert. He could still get a good run in before noon came, and the next match started.

And he had so many plans to help out the rest of the guys. Really, he was just doing a good deed. If it got Miss Pauling's attention, so much that she followed him around everywhere, well, that was just one hell of a bonus, now wasn't it?