Fic: Until Death Do Us Part chaptered 2
Feb. 14th, 2019 06:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Until Death Do Us Part
Series: TF2
Character/Pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling
Rating: NC-17
Summary: On the night before the court date of a massive legal action against Mann co. and TFI, Miss Pauling drags Scout to a Vegas drive-through chapel.
Word count: 18336
Author's note: After the line "Though, technically, we'd have confession immunity if we got married" in another piece I backflipped into a fake marriage fic in like ten seconds flat.
When she woke up, all the anger was gone, and replaced by the kind of Pauling who stumbled out like a zombie until she got her first sip of coffee.
Scout still wondered if he was supposed to get her flowers, even though he'd been right. He still wasn't sure about this marriage thing.
(Except he was sure of one thing: He'd think twice before criticizing the Voice. Even if she deserved it for being Literal Satan On Earth.)
He settled for bringing coffee and donuts from a stall down the street.
She looked up from her coffee.
"You asked what the company had ever done for me... The Administrator raised me. She found me when I was just a baby, and taught me everything I know. How to kill people in every way imaginable, how to file paperwork, and bury bodies. She taught me how to lead, and how to live. I owe everything I am to her."
Scout had to bite his tongue, because from where he was, it sure looked like the Voice wasn't paying her worth shit compared to what she did, and wouldn't give her any real time off. And if Miss Pauling was so important to her, she would've taken her along. She certainly wasn't winning any mother of the years awards, with the way she'd send hitmen after her own...daughter? The word felt so weird used in the same sentence as the Voice. But even a dumbass like him could see he wasn't going to win this fight. Not when the Voice had spent so much time making Miss Pauling feel like she'd done something for her, when from what Scout could see, Miss Pauling was the only one doing any real giving.
"Aight, I'll drop it," was all he said.
"Thank you," she said curtly. Like the fight wasn't really over, but they were both hungover from being angry.
"You wanna go get breakfast? After this? Cafe down the way's pretty good. You ever been down there?"
"No. I don't have time for such things. Er, didn't have time."
She took another sip of coffee. "I guess now all I have is time. At least until they come and drag us back into the case. The trial is going to start soon, and we'll need all the energy we can get."
Technically, all Scout knew about law was from watching episodes of Ghost Prosecutor.
"When you said inquest, you think it'll take a long time? I mean, Ghost Prosecutor finishes up his in thirty minutes, so it can't be that long. At least this case my lawyer ain't a lamp, or even worse, Soldier," Scout said.
"From what I know about Ricard, he'll use everything he can to make it go as fast as possible. Usually these things would take months, but the mayor is easily swayed and Teufort has always been rather lax on the rules. That's why the Administrator chose here. Well, that and other reasons, like it's so close to the border."
"So, what would take months is gonna take minutes?"
"I can't say how long it'll take."
"If you don't know, then nobody does."
"Yeah, you could say we're royally fucked," she said.
"We got out of all the other crap, we'll get out of this one. Ricard ain't shit. He's no wizard, or evil mutant bread, or even a magic book of bombs, or aliens. What's he got? The law? Big frickin' deal. I've been flippin' off the law since I could walk. It's the Southie way."
She smiled. "You're right. We have fought much harder enemies. It's easy to lose sight with the fact that base was destroyed."
By her, no less.
"Eh, it ain't the first and it won't be the last."
He grabbed his bag and they headed out to eat together. Things still weren't entirely right between them, but it was slowly thawing. Scout only hoped it wouldn't linger, like some storm that just wouldn't let up and left the whole place soaked for days.
*
On cue, the were called in the very next day. Scout had to dust off his suit, and drag his ass right into one of his least favorite places in the world: the courtroom.
Scout sat on the bench just outside the courtroom 2. He kept fiddling with his tie. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why some chuckleheads wore these torture devices for a living. it wasn't like it made them look more professional--just easier to strangle.
Before Miss Pauling could reply, a tall man stepped out. He kind of reminded Scout of the Cowboy Prosecutor from Ghost Prosecutor, the one who was a real rival of the big GP. He wore a big brimmed hat, and a draw string about his neck instead of a tie. His linen shirt was starched enough to not have a single wrinkle.
"Wow, what a pleasant surprise, Miss Pauling. You didn't skip town. You lost me ten bucks already," he drawled.
"Indeed, I didn't. Though, I think you'll have to take some new things into account. Like this." She held up her hand to show off the new set of rings. She then lifted his hand to show off his own ring.
"You'll have to reconfigure your ideas with cross-examinations, because we're married," she said.
"How very... sudden," Ricard said.
"Well, I found out I was... expecting," she said. She cleared her throat. "So we wanted to get it done before I couldn't fit into my dress."
Scout nearly fell out of his chair. That's what it was all about? Wait, they hadn't fucked yet. Sure, Scout had been expelled out of almost every school in Boston, and finally dropped out when he ran out of schools that would take him, but he was pretty sure this wasn't the sequel of the Virgin birth.
And Miss P probably wasn't a virgin, anyways. She could be, with how much her work cockblocked them, but Scout didn't want to think about her past. Probably best not to, anyways. She'd have an awful lot of murder charges with her name on 'em if they ever dug too deep in those caves. The less he knew, the better.
He gave her a side glance. If he asked, she'd probably go of course I'm not pregnant, Scout. Do I look pregnant? Being pregnant requires having sex! Does it look like we're having sex? Do I look like I have time for sex?
Right?
When Ricard had left, Scout got a bit closer to her.
"So like....about that...bun in the oven--"
"Medic says it's too soon to tell when the due date is," she said, in this June Cleaver kind of way that felt like a mask was firmly put on her face.
"But we--"
She grabbed his shirt and roughly pulled him down to her level, and silenced him with a kiss.
As she pulled away, he heard her whisper. Remember, trust me.
He forgot all his questions and everything but her lips.
*
Scout didn't know a damn thing about being married. He didn't even know who to ask about something like that. The base was downright empty--and now burned to the ground. Not that he could ask any of the guys how to be married. Wait, Demoman had mentioned that Medic had a wife. And that he'd shagged her. Okay, maybe Doc wasn't the person to ask. After all, what kind of gal would marry somebody like Medic?
Plus, the whole faking his death thing made him pretty hard to find. Which left Scout back at the beginning on figuring out how.
He slipped the quarter in and waited as the rings went through. It always was agony, the seconds it took until his ma picked up. When she did, he couldn't even wait for a hello and hello, how are yous, and burst out instead with "Hey ma? How do you be married?"
"Well, you get a ring, and give it to somebody. Can't be a dime store ring, either. You goin' to ask that girl you been moonin' over to finally get married?"
"Already did that. I mean, how do I be married?"
"You got married and didn't even tell me?"
"Look, it was an emergency! She dragged me out and was like 'we're gettin' married now.' Hell, she didn't even tell me that, she just said 'let's go' and then we were in Vegas, gettin' married by an Elvis impersonator."
"I carried you for nine months inside my body, through morning sickness and then never stopped cryin' when you were a baby. You almost never slept because you were too busy bawlin' your lungs out. Then, as a kid, you broke so many damn windows with your baseballs. And that's just the start of all the hell you've put me through. And you don't even invite me to your weddin'. Well, I hope you're happy--"
Hell, this wasn't a guilt trip. It was guilt vacation. It was around the world in 20 guilt-ridden days.
"Ma! Ma! Listen, I promise we'll get another weddin' goin'. But it turned out she was knocked up, so we just winged it and got hitched before it started to show. I really didn't want the kid comin' out a bastard, you know? Once the kid is here, we can get the family all together and have a big weddin'."
So, maybe it was a little white lie. Unless you really could get knocked up from getting to second base. But with his back against the wall, what other choice did he have? Besides, it was just making her lie come in stronger if anybody was listening in.
"There's a baby on the way?" He heard his ma blow her nose. Aww, damn. He'd gone and made her cry with one thoughtless comment. "Really?"
"Yeah. I just found out I'm goin' to be a daddy. It was all real sudden. She just dragged me out there in the middle of the night. I didn't even know we were goin' until we hit the place. Figured it was some kind of delivery job."
So he'd kind of fudged what his job really was.
"Now you didn't try and run, did you?"
"Of course not," Scout said. "Though I didn't even know what was goin' on. Though I wouldn't have! The only runnin' I would've done was runnin' down that aisle to marry her faster."
"I really hope I can meet this girl some day. She's really made you clean up, sweetie."
"C'mon, ma. I wasn't That bad."
She laughed so hard he was surprised she didn't drop the phone.
The payphone started clicking. An operator voice came over, urging him to put in more money. (In his lonelier years, he'd had fantasies about that operator girl. She sounded like a classy gal. But for some time, all his dreams were about Miss Pauling.)
"Ma, I gotta go! Runnin' out of time! Take care, love you, bye!"
The phone cut off her goodbye. Scout put the phone back, only to realize someone was behind him.
As he turned, Scout saw it was her. She looked almost ominous. The way the light hit her glasses, he couldn't see her eyes. Scout still thought of her as Miss Pauling, even though she wasn't a Miss anymore.
"Come with me," she said.
He hopped into her truck, and they set on down the road.
"You'll have to be careful what you tell your mother. I think the phone systems have been compromised."
She held up a little metal beetle between her fingers. In a moment, she smashed it, and wires came out.
"What the hell?" Scout said. "You think he'd bug the friggin' payphones?"
"This is deeper than I thought. Ricard isn't afraid of getting his hands dirty."
"You got the dirtiest hands I ever seen."
"Er, thanks," she said.
The dust kicked up. They were finally out of the courthouse, out of all those watching eyes. The motor was too loud to talk. It was another hotel they ended up at. A little less sleazy, two towns away. She threw her bag aside. It was beige, but classier, with some cheap painting of a sunset and a television which wasn't even chained down.
"Is the apartment bugged?" Scout said.
"I can't tell. We'll go back, eventually. But for now, we just need to find somewhere I know Ricard hasn't gotten to."
She laid back on the bed and started to rub at her temples.
"Got a headache? Might have some aspirin in my bag," Scout said.
"My head is constantly pounding. The Administrator left the company as a sinking ship. She left us! ...she left me to go down with everyone else."
She pulled her glasses off and set them on the bedside table.
"I was supposed to be different," she said in a soft voice. "I was irreplaceable. I was her right hand woman. I did all her dirty work for me. I wasn't supposed to be like the rest. Maybe she's just testing me. She does stuff like this. She sends hired killers to see if I can survive them. Sets up emergencies to see if I have enough grit to take them." She let out a sigh.
"She was the closest thing to a mother I had. She raised me. Taught me how to kill before I even was in kindergarten. Of course you already know that. Because I told you."
Scout placed his hand on her shoulder. "Look, you ain't alone here."
She glanced back at him. "The rest of the men disappeared. Except Engineer."
"Really? He's that loyal?"
"No, he's just smart. I found out he's been keeping documents to start this narrative of innocence. I suspect that he's going to make the case that he was just a contractor who fixed things and had no idea of what was going on, about as guilty as someone who unknowingly fixes the refrigerator of a serial killer."
"Dang, Hardhat has balls."
"He can even wing it to pad his resume with the next big corrupt corporation he works with. And he's got just enough manners to fool any of the low-level managements. I just hope he isn't cornered. Because there's no telling what other documents he held on to in order to keep himself safe. I don't even know if I can trust that he'll be our ally anymore."
"Hardhat? Nahhh. He's too nice for somethin' like that. He'll run circles around any chucklehead who tries to take him down."
"You always believe in everyone," she said.
"Of course. The guys are my pals. They're like brothers to me. Besides, you ain't alone. I'm always here. I'll drive the getaway car," Scout said.
She smiled, just a little. "It's a bit late for a getaway car. If we were going to go."
"Why didn't you? You could've gone up to Southie with me. Found some hideout. I told you all along we could book it out of here."
"That'd be the first place anyone would look for you," she said.
"Babe, you don't know Southie. Ain't nobody gonna squeal up there. They hate cops and outsiders. We could just lay low until they lost interest. ...Hey, you said the rest are gone, you got any idea where they are? Like, where's doc?"
"Faked his own death, I presume. It isn't the first time, nor will it be the last."
"Heavy?" Scout said.
"Back to his family, or with Medic. Maybe both. Who can tell?"
"Soldier? Demo?"
"Currently under medical supervision, deported back to Scotland," she said.
"Sniper?"
"I haven't found out yet. He might've gone to hide out in the outback. I wouldn't worry about him; he always lands on his feet."
"Spy?"
"No one knows. They never do when it comes to him."
It had all looked like the usual amount of chaos to Scout. Sure, there were orderlies running around and burning files, but they'd done that just last month, and the month before. And every month. Sure, he'd had to help hide a whole lot of bodies--but he did that every damn day.
He was so used to chaos that he didn't even recognize when the whole place was falling apart.
"It was her legacy. I couldn't just let it fall to nothing," she said softly. "I had to do something. But, I can't risk being hungover for tomorrow's court date. I can't go to the shooting range. There's all this stress and I can't do anything about it."
"Don't be silly, Miss P. This is America. Everyone goes to the shootin' range. I headed down there a ways back, and I passed a Priest, two suburban moms and a judge all comin' in to fire away."
"Not in this case," she said.
She went over to the bed and sat down, like the weight of everything was so much she could barely lift it up.
Scout sat on the bed beside her. "You got me. I'll always have your back."
"You've been there all along, and you're still there..." She said softly.
"Yeah, I'll always be here. I promise," he said.
She pushed herself up. Her hands grazed up his chest, and in seconds, she silenced him with a kiss.
She broke apart with a gasp "...This is fine, we're married after all."
"Didn't take you to be the freaking secret Catholic," Scout said dryly.
She smiled. "Trust me, Catholic's one thing I'm not."
She climbed up onto his lap, and pushed him down to the bed. "I need this right now, need you, so..."
"I'm all yours," Scout said. "Always have been, always will be."
Shirts were pulled off, stockings ruined through hungry, roaming hands. Her skirt was lost somewhere off to the floor, and shoes off the bed, mouths met, touched. His hand fit right there, between her legs. The first moan he got out of her felt like a triumph, better than any stolen briefcase, any won game.
God, he'd hit the jackpot. She was fricking gorgeous. Curvy, covered with scars--but she made it cute--dark haired and with the most incredible green eyes he'd ever seen. If there was one set of tits and ass that could keep him home and satisfied for life, it was hers. But she was more than just a good figure. She was smart, and strong, and just so cool.
Her nipples hardened at his touch, and all he could think was I could have her forever? I could do this with her for the rest of my life?
She climbed up on top. "Just, stay with me, okay? I guess it's harder for guys to stay up for a real long time, but I really need you right now."
"Not a problem," Scout said. "I a runner, got stamina, remember?"
She leaned down to whisper. "Stamina at running doesn't mean stamina like this."
He let out a low groan. God, her voice made him so hard. The light was just dim enough for him to see the shape of her smile, her excitement as she ground her crotch against him.
That first feeling of his body and hers tight together was enough to make him let out one hell of a groan. Sure, he wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex once, with the taste of chicken wings between kisses. But it wasn't like this. Damn, he didn't even remember her name. Brenda? Brandi? Something like that.
But it was so different with Miss Pauling. He was in awe of every thrust inside her, every moan and shiver and damn touch of her. Oh, he was in deep. Spiraling out of control, and it was incredible.
She let out a sudden cry and clung to him so tightly that he couldn't hold back anymore. He thrust hard again and again until he suddenly came. They both laid out on the bed, a gasping for breath. Shock and awe, that was how he'd describe it.
She nudged him with another kiss.
"It--it wasn't good for you?" Scout said. Could all that moaning really have been a fake? He thought the more a girl moaned, the realer it was.
"You know how when you're eating a cake you bought from the store and you promise yourself one piece, but it's so good you keep going and before you know it, the whole cake is gone and then you think maybe I'll go buy another cake? And then you end up eating all of that too, even though you only meant to have one piece again?"
Technically, Scout couldn't really relate. He always ate the whole cake--or as much as he could before his brothers came through, because there was no going for seconds with that many brothers. It was a fight just to get his share with so many bigger siblings to push him out of the way.
"I want the whole cake. And then I want to go to the store and buy another cake, and maybe top it with ice cream. Do you get it?" she said.
On one hand, her metaphor was kind of all over the place and was making him hungry. On the other hand, he got the message from the way her hand was going straight to his cock, to pump him hard again.
Considering it'd been over two years since he'd gotten laid, it wouldn't take long to get it up. He'd stopped trying to chase after other girls when he'd finally figured out on the brink of death that she was his one regret. He'd taken so many cold showers, he was surprised his balls didn't freeze off from how blue they were.
But here he was, in bed with Miss Pauling. His wife. She was just so soft. Her warm breasts pushed against his chest. She pulled him on top of her.
"Wait, I don't wanna crush you."
"You aren't even a hundred and fifty pounds, I'll be fine," she said.
It hit like a slap. But she saw the flinch in him and kissed him.
"Don't take it like that. I like you that way. I like so much about you."
"Really?"
"You think I'd be here if I didn't?"
"You never said anythin'. Most of the time you seemed pissed."
"I've just got so much on my shoulders. Everything had to be for the Administrator's wishes. There was no room for me, and what I wanted. I was able to slip you in during work, but that was it. Trust me, liking you was never the problem. It was my packed work schedule."
And then, she slipped him inside her, and there was no more talking or coherent thoughts. Just the warmth and softness covering him. His pulse raced, and he could lose himself in the rhythm, the feel of her body and his. But he kept pulling back. Think of the Yankees winning, think of the Impossible dream and how the Red Sox lost. anything to keep it up extra long for her.
He'd never gone this far, never come this hard. She was against him, warm and small. She fit so well into him, in every way there was to fit into a person. He rested his hand over her, almost hesitantly, like she was so fragile that the dream might burst, like a bubble.
But he didn't wake up. And he kept not waking up.
*
Scout examined the hickies all across his neck and chest in the mirror. And that didn't even go to the lines of scratch marks she'd left across his back last night. God, he looked liked he'd been mauled in the sexiest way possible.
She smirked. "Good thing you're wearing a high collar today."
"Just for that, I'm wearin' a tee in next time. One with a reaaal low neck," Scout said.
"Now, now. The judge might throw you out for being disorderly and distracting everyone."
She did the knot in his tie. If Scout had his way, he'd come into court with a rumbled shirt, open jacket and with muddy sneakers. Hell, if he had his way, he'd ditch court entirely and use that tie for more important things. Like his hands getting tied to that headboard.
"We'll be late."
"New married thing: kissin' you every mornin'."
Just in case one of them didn't come back.
She wiped the lipstick off his mouth. Finally, she wiped of off her own and kissed him once more.
"I should just stop wearing it at this point. You're just going to kiss it off me," she said.
"It's fun, though," he said softly.
She left the trace of lipstick on his collar. "It makes the alibi more realistic," she sad.
She leaned in so close, her lips almost brushed his cheek. "And it reminds everyone that you're mine."
His eyes widened, and he glanced at her. She smiled knowingly, and went out ahead of him.
God, he'd follow her into hell and back. Which was good, because that was what this case threatened to be.
*
The proceedings all faded into this background hum. Ghost Prosecutor made this all look a whole lot more interesting. Their lawyer was like if dirty dishwater was a person. Sorta balding, sorta boring. He droned on, and Scout missed everything he said. He could feel the heat of her as Miss Pauling's knee brushed his. He let his hand come to rest there, right on her thigh.
She mouthed, don't distract me and brushed his hand away.
So he put his hand on her back, to steady her like. She gave him a hard stare.
"What? I'm supportin' you! he mouthed to her.
She pushed his knee away when he sat, spread legged. He hadn't even been trying to touch her that time, just trying to keep his balls from chafing in this stupid suit.
Like he was supposed to focus on some big shot chucklefuck guy who wanted to take them down when he'd slept with Miss Pauling less than 24 hours ago.
One thing was for sure, Ghost Prosecutor sure made courtroom cases seem intense. But actually being there was about as interesting as watching Sniper paint the outside walls yellow after a long time of being camped out. He leaned back in the seat as another damn person droned on like he gave a damn what they thought.
His mind kept going back to last night. His hands, his mouth, her hands, her mouth. Their bodies moving together. He'd put his sex drive in storage while he was waiting for her, and then put a padlock on it, just in case. He had barely even looked at another girl in that whole time, let alone flirted with any. Since he tipped over into I like this girl to this is the only girl for me. He'd done his push ups and read more books on dating than he could remember. He had planned to be a gentleman, even if he had to take five cold showers a day.
(And the mere thought of the word "gentleman" sort of made him want to punch someone, like if Spy was a word and was laughing Frenchly at him.)
But it was back with a vengeance. And the last thing he wanted was to be popping a boner while they were trying to not be in the clink, and everyone else here was cockblocking him with the whole trying to send him to jail thing.
When the fifteen minutes recess came, Scout headed out to the nearest bathroom. There was a single room unisex one not too far away from the courtroom. It had two sinks, a john, a gray sort of coldness, cloudy mirror, and not a whole lot else. What he needed was a cold shower. But he'd have to make do with a lot less. Scout splashed cold water on his face. With a glance back, he undid his collar, and that tie Miss Pauling had worked so hard to fix. His neck was covered in hickies. A line of dark bruises she'd left on him disappeared past the buttons. Just below his collar bone was a bite mark. He rubbed the tender skin with his thumb, and remembered.
Her lips at his neck, her tongue over his throat, her fingers across his back, her breasts to his chest.... She'd pulled him on top of him and sunk those nails deep into his skin. All over his body was marked by her. He'd been branded by her name for years before he finally got bruises left by her for real to show the way she had been bruised on his heart since the first time he'd seen her.
Damn, last night had been something else. A whole new kind of wildness. Waiting for her had been the right idea. It just wouldn't have been the same in some shitty cheap motel where tons of tricks had been played, and the stinking mattress was probably full of bedbugs, or worse.
Sure, he'd wanted her. But he'd had no idea. No idea that she'd drag him out to get married in Vegas, and sure as hell no idea that he'd be fucked hard enough to forget his name last night.
He splashed cold water onto his face. It wasn't enough. But it wasn't like he could climb in and soak his dick in under the freezing stream from the faucet. He'd just have to go back and pretend to be a gentleman for her sake. Because she wanted to focus on the case, and technically, he wanted to not be in jail too--even if the only thing he could think of was her body and last night and everything in-between.
Hopefully she wouldn't be too tired after this whole thing, because he was dying to touch and taste her again.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Fuckin' hell... just give me a second, all right?"
He didn't bother to dry himself off as he walked back. When he opened the door, she was right there waiting.
"Oh, uh, hey."
"It's a unisex bathroom," she said.
"Yeah, it was the closest, so--"
Before he could come say another word, she pushed her way through and locked the door behind them.
"We've got less than fifteen minutes," she said.
Before he could even respond, she climbed up onto the counter between the sinks and hiked up her purple skirts and he got an idea why she'd forced her way in.
God, she was so wild and wicked. Just when he thought he couldn't be anymore turned on by her, she went and pulled this.
He tore those stockings in two right at the crotch, and spread her legs wide. She hadn't put on panties today. All this time he'd been this close to her, the heat of her body slipping into him. Had she been thinking of him too?
Had she planned this whole tryst out right from the minute they left?
Her legs wrapped around his hips. She pulled him in closer, closer to that sweet taste of heaven.
"God, Miss Pauling..."
"Keep it down, we're in public. And hurry it up. We don't have much time," she said.
He didn't need telling twice. The counter kept her right at the perfect angle to thrust in hard. Her back was to the mirror. He thought the faucet had to be digging into her, but she didn't complain. Her hands slipped down, to get herself off.
He pulled on her shirt, desperately, and buttons came flying off, but that wasn't all. The finest tits that the world had ever known were exposed to the cold air.
"Scout--"
He buried his face there, and took several gasping breaths. The purple lace of her bra dug into his cheek, his back began to protest from the way he'd positioned himself, but it was all worth it.
She had to bite her lower lip to keep a moan quiet. That only made him thrust in harder, until her beautiful green eyes widened, and she could barely keep still and silent.
He reached out to the hand drier and slammed down that button to drown out her moans with the roar and rush of that hot air.
"Scout, Scout..." she gasped as he gripped her hips tight.
He was balls deep in her, fucking in a Unisex bathroom, in mere minutes they'd be back trying to dance away from death--and oh, he was freaking married to Miss Pauling."
He slammed that air drier one more time as she let out a long whimper, and clenched tight about him. He gripped her ass tight, hard enough to leave marks on her milky skin. It was enough to destroy all control he had left as he took those last thrusts and came. Calm and pleasure filled him. Everything was quiet in his head instead of the usual chatter and constant brightness of images.
He leaned in, barely able to stand or even think. The fact that she had her legs about him so tightly was the only thing that kept his knees from buckling.
He leaned against the wall, and let out a long breath.
He smirked. "I thought you needed to be qu~iet, Miss Pauling."
She struggled for breath, could barely even respond or form words with the way he'd fucked her. Hell, she still might be coming from the way they went at it.
"You're welcome," he said.
"I told you, don't call me that anymore," she said.
"Sure thing, wifey," he said.
"I should fuck that smug smile right off your face," she said between gritted teeth.
"Later, we gotta go to this thing, remember?"
As she climbed down off the counter, white dripped down between her legs.
And you're welcome for that, too he thought.
"Right--court." She quickly grabbed a wetted paper towel to clean up the best she could. She let out a little shivery moan as she rubbed at her tender thighs.
"It might be easier just to take these stockings off," she said under her breath. "But, no time..."
He enjoyed the show, still too well fucked to do much more than sit in this post-coital good mood, and the fucking smugness that she was his, all his.
"Crap, we'll be late at this rate..." She broke off, and caught his gaze.
He lifted his eyebrows.
"Oh, fuck it," she muttered.
She cupped his face and stole one last kiss. Then she pushed him away, and rushed out that door. Scout felt dazed and dizzy from her, from it all. But a few seconds later he followed.
*
Next part
Series: TF2
Character/Pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling
Rating: NC-17
Summary: On the night before the court date of a massive legal action against Mann co. and TFI, Miss Pauling drags Scout to a Vegas drive-through chapel.
Word count: 18336
Author's note: After the line "Though, technically, we'd have confession immunity if we got married" in another piece I backflipped into a fake marriage fic in like ten seconds flat.
When she woke up, all the anger was gone, and replaced by the kind of Pauling who stumbled out like a zombie until she got her first sip of coffee.
Scout still wondered if he was supposed to get her flowers, even though he'd been right. He still wasn't sure about this marriage thing.
(Except he was sure of one thing: He'd think twice before criticizing the Voice. Even if she deserved it for being Literal Satan On Earth.)
He settled for bringing coffee and donuts from a stall down the street.
She looked up from her coffee.
"You asked what the company had ever done for me... The Administrator raised me. She found me when I was just a baby, and taught me everything I know. How to kill people in every way imaginable, how to file paperwork, and bury bodies. She taught me how to lead, and how to live. I owe everything I am to her."
Scout had to bite his tongue, because from where he was, it sure looked like the Voice wasn't paying her worth shit compared to what she did, and wouldn't give her any real time off. And if Miss Pauling was so important to her, she would've taken her along. She certainly wasn't winning any mother of the years awards, with the way she'd send hitmen after her own...daughter? The word felt so weird used in the same sentence as the Voice. But even a dumbass like him could see he wasn't going to win this fight. Not when the Voice had spent so much time making Miss Pauling feel like she'd done something for her, when from what Scout could see, Miss Pauling was the only one doing any real giving.
"Aight, I'll drop it," was all he said.
"Thank you," she said curtly. Like the fight wasn't really over, but they were both hungover from being angry.
"You wanna go get breakfast? After this? Cafe down the way's pretty good. You ever been down there?"
"No. I don't have time for such things. Er, didn't have time."
She took another sip of coffee. "I guess now all I have is time. At least until they come and drag us back into the case. The trial is going to start soon, and we'll need all the energy we can get."
Technically, all Scout knew about law was from watching episodes of Ghost Prosecutor.
"When you said inquest, you think it'll take a long time? I mean, Ghost Prosecutor finishes up his in thirty minutes, so it can't be that long. At least this case my lawyer ain't a lamp, or even worse, Soldier," Scout said.
"From what I know about Ricard, he'll use everything he can to make it go as fast as possible. Usually these things would take months, but the mayor is easily swayed and Teufort has always been rather lax on the rules. That's why the Administrator chose here. Well, that and other reasons, like it's so close to the border."
"So, what would take months is gonna take minutes?"
"I can't say how long it'll take."
"If you don't know, then nobody does."
"Yeah, you could say we're royally fucked," she said.
"We got out of all the other crap, we'll get out of this one. Ricard ain't shit. He's no wizard, or evil mutant bread, or even a magic book of bombs, or aliens. What's he got? The law? Big frickin' deal. I've been flippin' off the law since I could walk. It's the Southie way."
She smiled. "You're right. We have fought much harder enemies. It's easy to lose sight with the fact that base was destroyed."
By her, no less.
"Eh, it ain't the first and it won't be the last."
He grabbed his bag and they headed out to eat together. Things still weren't entirely right between them, but it was slowly thawing. Scout only hoped it wouldn't linger, like some storm that just wouldn't let up and left the whole place soaked for days.
*
On cue, the were called in the very next day. Scout had to dust off his suit, and drag his ass right into one of his least favorite places in the world: the courtroom.
Scout sat on the bench just outside the courtroom 2. He kept fiddling with his tie. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why some chuckleheads wore these torture devices for a living. it wasn't like it made them look more professional--just easier to strangle.
Before Miss Pauling could reply, a tall man stepped out. He kind of reminded Scout of the Cowboy Prosecutor from Ghost Prosecutor, the one who was a real rival of the big GP. He wore a big brimmed hat, and a draw string about his neck instead of a tie. His linen shirt was starched enough to not have a single wrinkle.
"Wow, what a pleasant surprise, Miss Pauling. You didn't skip town. You lost me ten bucks already," he drawled.
"Indeed, I didn't. Though, I think you'll have to take some new things into account. Like this." She held up her hand to show off the new set of rings. She then lifted his hand to show off his own ring.
"You'll have to reconfigure your ideas with cross-examinations, because we're married," she said.
"How very... sudden," Ricard said.
"Well, I found out I was... expecting," she said. She cleared her throat. "So we wanted to get it done before I couldn't fit into my dress."
Scout nearly fell out of his chair. That's what it was all about? Wait, they hadn't fucked yet. Sure, Scout had been expelled out of almost every school in Boston, and finally dropped out when he ran out of schools that would take him, but he was pretty sure this wasn't the sequel of the Virgin birth.
And Miss P probably wasn't a virgin, anyways. She could be, with how much her work cockblocked them, but Scout didn't want to think about her past. Probably best not to, anyways. She'd have an awful lot of murder charges with her name on 'em if they ever dug too deep in those caves. The less he knew, the better.
He gave her a side glance. If he asked, she'd probably go of course I'm not pregnant, Scout. Do I look pregnant? Being pregnant requires having sex! Does it look like we're having sex? Do I look like I have time for sex?
Right?
When Ricard had left, Scout got a bit closer to her.
"So like....about that...bun in the oven--"
"Medic says it's too soon to tell when the due date is," she said, in this June Cleaver kind of way that felt like a mask was firmly put on her face.
"But we--"
She grabbed his shirt and roughly pulled him down to her level, and silenced him with a kiss.
As she pulled away, he heard her whisper. Remember, trust me.
He forgot all his questions and everything but her lips.
*
Scout didn't know a damn thing about being married. He didn't even know who to ask about something like that. The base was downright empty--and now burned to the ground. Not that he could ask any of the guys how to be married. Wait, Demoman had mentioned that Medic had a wife. And that he'd shagged her. Okay, maybe Doc wasn't the person to ask. After all, what kind of gal would marry somebody like Medic?
Plus, the whole faking his death thing made him pretty hard to find. Which left Scout back at the beginning on figuring out how.
He slipped the quarter in and waited as the rings went through. It always was agony, the seconds it took until his ma picked up. When she did, he couldn't even wait for a hello and hello, how are yous, and burst out instead with "Hey ma? How do you be married?"
"Well, you get a ring, and give it to somebody. Can't be a dime store ring, either. You goin' to ask that girl you been moonin' over to finally get married?"
"Already did that. I mean, how do I be married?"
"You got married and didn't even tell me?"
"Look, it was an emergency! She dragged me out and was like 'we're gettin' married now.' Hell, she didn't even tell me that, she just said 'let's go' and then we were in Vegas, gettin' married by an Elvis impersonator."
"I carried you for nine months inside my body, through morning sickness and then never stopped cryin' when you were a baby. You almost never slept because you were too busy bawlin' your lungs out. Then, as a kid, you broke so many damn windows with your baseballs. And that's just the start of all the hell you've put me through. And you don't even invite me to your weddin'. Well, I hope you're happy--"
Hell, this wasn't a guilt trip. It was guilt vacation. It was around the world in 20 guilt-ridden days.
"Ma! Ma! Listen, I promise we'll get another weddin' goin'. But it turned out she was knocked up, so we just winged it and got hitched before it started to show. I really didn't want the kid comin' out a bastard, you know? Once the kid is here, we can get the family all together and have a big weddin'."
So, maybe it was a little white lie. Unless you really could get knocked up from getting to second base. But with his back against the wall, what other choice did he have? Besides, it was just making her lie come in stronger if anybody was listening in.
"There's a baby on the way?" He heard his ma blow her nose. Aww, damn. He'd gone and made her cry with one thoughtless comment. "Really?"
"Yeah. I just found out I'm goin' to be a daddy. It was all real sudden. She just dragged me out there in the middle of the night. I didn't even know we were goin' until we hit the place. Figured it was some kind of delivery job."
So he'd kind of fudged what his job really was.
"Now you didn't try and run, did you?"
"Of course not," Scout said. "Though I didn't even know what was goin' on. Though I wouldn't have! The only runnin' I would've done was runnin' down that aisle to marry her faster."
"I really hope I can meet this girl some day. She's really made you clean up, sweetie."
"C'mon, ma. I wasn't That bad."
She laughed so hard he was surprised she didn't drop the phone.
The payphone started clicking. An operator voice came over, urging him to put in more money. (In his lonelier years, he'd had fantasies about that operator girl. She sounded like a classy gal. But for some time, all his dreams were about Miss Pauling.)
"Ma, I gotta go! Runnin' out of time! Take care, love you, bye!"
The phone cut off her goodbye. Scout put the phone back, only to realize someone was behind him.
As he turned, Scout saw it was her. She looked almost ominous. The way the light hit her glasses, he couldn't see her eyes. Scout still thought of her as Miss Pauling, even though she wasn't a Miss anymore.
"Come with me," she said.
He hopped into her truck, and they set on down the road.
"You'll have to be careful what you tell your mother. I think the phone systems have been compromised."
She held up a little metal beetle between her fingers. In a moment, she smashed it, and wires came out.
"What the hell?" Scout said. "You think he'd bug the friggin' payphones?"
"This is deeper than I thought. Ricard isn't afraid of getting his hands dirty."
"You got the dirtiest hands I ever seen."
"Er, thanks," she said.
The dust kicked up. They were finally out of the courthouse, out of all those watching eyes. The motor was too loud to talk. It was another hotel they ended up at. A little less sleazy, two towns away. She threw her bag aside. It was beige, but classier, with some cheap painting of a sunset and a television which wasn't even chained down.
"Is the apartment bugged?" Scout said.
"I can't tell. We'll go back, eventually. But for now, we just need to find somewhere I know Ricard hasn't gotten to."
She laid back on the bed and started to rub at her temples.
"Got a headache? Might have some aspirin in my bag," Scout said.
"My head is constantly pounding. The Administrator left the company as a sinking ship. She left us! ...she left me to go down with everyone else."
She pulled her glasses off and set them on the bedside table.
"I was supposed to be different," she said in a soft voice. "I was irreplaceable. I was her right hand woman. I did all her dirty work for me. I wasn't supposed to be like the rest. Maybe she's just testing me. She does stuff like this. She sends hired killers to see if I can survive them. Sets up emergencies to see if I have enough grit to take them." She let out a sigh.
"She was the closest thing to a mother I had. She raised me. Taught me how to kill before I even was in kindergarten. Of course you already know that. Because I told you."
Scout placed his hand on her shoulder. "Look, you ain't alone here."
She glanced back at him. "The rest of the men disappeared. Except Engineer."
"Really? He's that loyal?"
"No, he's just smart. I found out he's been keeping documents to start this narrative of innocence. I suspect that he's going to make the case that he was just a contractor who fixed things and had no idea of what was going on, about as guilty as someone who unknowingly fixes the refrigerator of a serial killer."
"Dang, Hardhat has balls."
"He can even wing it to pad his resume with the next big corrupt corporation he works with. And he's got just enough manners to fool any of the low-level managements. I just hope he isn't cornered. Because there's no telling what other documents he held on to in order to keep himself safe. I don't even know if I can trust that he'll be our ally anymore."
"Hardhat? Nahhh. He's too nice for somethin' like that. He'll run circles around any chucklehead who tries to take him down."
"You always believe in everyone," she said.
"Of course. The guys are my pals. They're like brothers to me. Besides, you ain't alone. I'm always here. I'll drive the getaway car," Scout said.
She smiled, just a little. "It's a bit late for a getaway car. If we were going to go."
"Why didn't you? You could've gone up to Southie with me. Found some hideout. I told you all along we could book it out of here."
"That'd be the first place anyone would look for you," she said.
"Babe, you don't know Southie. Ain't nobody gonna squeal up there. They hate cops and outsiders. We could just lay low until they lost interest. ...Hey, you said the rest are gone, you got any idea where they are? Like, where's doc?"
"Faked his own death, I presume. It isn't the first time, nor will it be the last."
"Heavy?" Scout said.
"Back to his family, or with Medic. Maybe both. Who can tell?"
"Soldier? Demo?"
"Currently under medical supervision, deported back to Scotland," she said.
"Sniper?"
"I haven't found out yet. He might've gone to hide out in the outback. I wouldn't worry about him; he always lands on his feet."
"Spy?"
"No one knows. They never do when it comes to him."
It had all looked like the usual amount of chaos to Scout. Sure, there were orderlies running around and burning files, but they'd done that just last month, and the month before. And every month. Sure, he'd had to help hide a whole lot of bodies--but he did that every damn day.
He was so used to chaos that he didn't even recognize when the whole place was falling apart.
"It was her legacy. I couldn't just let it fall to nothing," she said softly. "I had to do something. But, I can't risk being hungover for tomorrow's court date. I can't go to the shooting range. There's all this stress and I can't do anything about it."
"Don't be silly, Miss P. This is America. Everyone goes to the shootin' range. I headed down there a ways back, and I passed a Priest, two suburban moms and a judge all comin' in to fire away."
"Not in this case," she said.
She went over to the bed and sat down, like the weight of everything was so much she could barely lift it up.
Scout sat on the bed beside her. "You got me. I'll always have your back."
"You've been there all along, and you're still there..." She said softly.
"Yeah, I'll always be here. I promise," he said.
She pushed herself up. Her hands grazed up his chest, and in seconds, she silenced him with a kiss.
She broke apart with a gasp "...This is fine, we're married after all."
"Didn't take you to be the freaking secret Catholic," Scout said dryly.
She smiled. "Trust me, Catholic's one thing I'm not."
She climbed up onto his lap, and pushed him down to the bed. "I need this right now, need you, so..."
"I'm all yours," Scout said. "Always have been, always will be."
Shirts were pulled off, stockings ruined through hungry, roaming hands. Her skirt was lost somewhere off to the floor, and shoes off the bed, mouths met, touched. His hand fit right there, between her legs. The first moan he got out of her felt like a triumph, better than any stolen briefcase, any won game.
God, he'd hit the jackpot. She was fricking gorgeous. Curvy, covered with scars--but she made it cute--dark haired and with the most incredible green eyes he'd ever seen. If there was one set of tits and ass that could keep him home and satisfied for life, it was hers. But she was more than just a good figure. She was smart, and strong, and just so cool.
Her nipples hardened at his touch, and all he could think was I could have her forever? I could do this with her for the rest of my life?
She climbed up on top. "Just, stay with me, okay? I guess it's harder for guys to stay up for a real long time, but I really need you right now."
"Not a problem," Scout said. "I a runner, got stamina, remember?"
She leaned down to whisper. "Stamina at running doesn't mean stamina like this."
He let out a low groan. God, her voice made him so hard. The light was just dim enough for him to see the shape of her smile, her excitement as she ground her crotch against him.
That first feeling of his body and hers tight together was enough to make him let out one hell of a groan. Sure, he wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex once, with the taste of chicken wings between kisses. But it wasn't like this. Damn, he didn't even remember her name. Brenda? Brandi? Something like that.
But it was so different with Miss Pauling. He was in awe of every thrust inside her, every moan and shiver and damn touch of her. Oh, he was in deep. Spiraling out of control, and it was incredible.
She let out a sudden cry and clung to him so tightly that he couldn't hold back anymore. He thrust hard again and again until he suddenly came. They both laid out on the bed, a gasping for breath. Shock and awe, that was how he'd describe it.
She nudged him with another kiss.
"It--it wasn't good for you?" Scout said. Could all that moaning really have been a fake? He thought the more a girl moaned, the realer it was.
"You know how when you're eating a cake you bought from the store and you promise yourself one piece, but it's so good you keep going and before you know it, the whole cake is gone and then you think maybe I'll go buy another cake? And then you end up eating all of that too, even though you only meant to have one piece again?"
Technically, Scout couldn't really relate. He always ate the whole cake--or as much as he could before his brothers came through, because there was no going for seconds with that many brothers. It was a fight just to get his share with so many bigger siblings to push him out of the way.
"I want the whole cake. And then I want to go to the store and buy another cake, and maybe top it with ice cream. Do you get it?" she said.
On one hand, her metaphor was kind of all over the place and was making him hungry. On the other hand, he got the message from the way her hand was going straight to his cock, to pump him hard again.
Considering it'd been over two years since he'd gotten laid, it wouldn't take long to get it up. He'd stopped trying to chase after other girls when he'd finally figured out on the brink of death that she was his one regret. He'd taken so many cold showers, he was surprised his balls didn't freeze off from how blue they were.
But here he was, in bed with Miss Pauling. His wife. She was just so soft. Her warm breasts pushed against his chest. She pulled him on top of her.
"Wait, I don't wanna crush you."
"You aren't even a hundred and fifty pounds, I'll be fine," she said.
It hit like a slap. But she saw the flinch in him and kissed him.
"Don't take it like that. I like you that way. I like so much about you."
"Really?"
"You think I'd be here if I didn't?"
"You never said anythin'. Most of the time you seemed pissed."
"I've just got so much on my shoulders. Everything had to be for the Administrator's wishes. There was no room for me, and what I wanted. I was able to slip you in during work, but that was it. Trust me, liking you was never the problem. It was my packed work schedule."
And then, she slipped him inside her, and there was no more talking or coherent thoughts. Just the warmth and softness covering him. His pulse raced, and he could lose himself in the rhythm, the feel of her body and his. But he kept pulling back. Think of the Yankees winning, think of the Impossible dream and how the Red Sox lost. anything to keep it up extra long for her.
He'd never gone this far, never come this hard. She was against him, warm and small. She fit so well into him, in every way there was to fit into a person. He rested his hand over her, almost hesitantly, like she was so fragile that the dream might burst, like a bubble.
But he didn't wake up. And he kept not waking up.
*
Scout examined the hickies all across his neck and chest in the mirror. And that didn't even go to the lines of scratch marks she'd left across his back last night. God, he looked liked he'd been mauled in the sexiest way possible.
She smirked. "Good thing you're wearing a high collar today."
"Just for that, I'm wearin' a tee in next time. One with a reaaal low neck," Scout said.
"Now, now. The judge might throw you out for being disorderly and distracting everyone."
She did the knot in his tie. If Scout had his way, he'd come into court with a rumbled shirt, open jacket and with muddy sneakers. Hell, if he had his way, he'd ditch court entirely and use that tie for more important things. Like his hands getting tied to that headboard.
"We'll be late."
"New married thing: kissin' you every mornin'."
Just in case one of them didn't come back.
She wiped the lipstick off his mouth. Finally, she wiped of off her own and kissed him once more.
"I should just stop wearing it at this point. You're just going to kiss it off me," she said.
"It's fun, though," he said softly.
She left the trace of lipstick on his collar. "It makes the alibi more realistic," she sad.
She leaned in so close, her lips almost brushed his cheek. "And it reminds everyone that you're mine."
His eyes widened, and he glanced at her. She smiled knowingly, and went out ahead of him.
God, he'd follow her into hell and back. Which was good, because that was what this case threatened to be.
*
The proceedings all faded into this background hum. Ghost Prosecutor made this all look a whole lot more interesting. Their lawyer was like if dirty dishwater was a person. Sorta balding, sorta boring. He droned on, and Scout missed everything he said. He could feel the heat of her as Miss Pauling's knee brushed his. He let his hand come to rest there, right on her thigh.
She mouthed, don't distract me and brushed his hand away.
So he put his hand on her back, to steady her like. She gave him a hard stare.
"What? I'm supportin' you! he mouthed to her.
She pushed his knee away when he sat, spread legged. He hadn't even been trying to touch her that time, just trying to keep his balls from chafing in this stupid suit.
Like he was supposed to focus on some big shot chucklefuck guy who wanted to take them down when he'd slept with Miss Pauling less than 24 hours ago.
One thing was for sure, Ghost Prosecutor sure made courtroom cases seem intense. But actually being there was about as interesting as watching Sniper paint the outside walls yellow after a long time of being camped out. He leaned back in the seat as another damn person droned on like he gave a damn what they thought.
His mind kept going back to last night. His hands, his mouth, her hands, her mouth. Their bodies moving together. He'd put his sex drive in storage while he was waiting for her, and then put a padlock on it, just in case. He had barely even looked at another girl in that whole time, let alone flirted with any. Since he tipped over into I like this girl to this is the only girl for me. He'd done his push ups and read more books on dating than he could remember. He had planned to be a gentleman, even if he had to take five cold showers a day.
(And the mere thought of the word "gentleman" sort of made him want to punch someone, like if Spy was a word and was laughing Frenchly at him.)
But it was back with a vengeance. And the last thing he wanted was to be popping a boner while they were trying to not be in the clink, and everyone else here was cockblocking him with the whole trying to send him to jail thing.
When the fifteen minutes recess came, Scout headed out to the nearest bathroom. There was a single room unisex one not too far away from the courtroom. It had two sinks, a john, a gray sort of coldness, cloudy mirror, and not a whole lot else. What he needed was a cold shower. But he'd have to make do with a lot less. Scout splashed cold water on his face. With a glance back, he undid his collar, and that tie Miss Pauling had worked so hard to fix. His neck was covered in hickies. A line of dark bruises she'd left on him disappeared past the buttons. Just below his collar bone was a bite mark. He rubbed the tender skin with his thumb, and remembered.
Her lips at his neck, her tongue over his throat, her fingers across his back, her breasts to his chest.... She'd pulled him on top of him and sunk those nails deep into his skin. All over his body was marked by her. He'd been branded by her name for years before he finally got bruises left by her for real to show the way she had been bruised on his heart since the first time he'd seen her.
Damn, last night had been something else. A whole new kind of wildness. Waiting for her had been the right idea. It just wouldn't have been the same in some shitty cheap motel where tons of tricks had been played, and the stinking mattress was probably full of bedbugs, or worse.
Sure, he'd wanted her. But he'd had no idea. No idea that she'd drag him out to get married in Vegas, and sure as hell no idea that he'd be fucked hard enough to forget his name last night.
He splashed cold water onto his face. It wasn't enough. But it wasn't like he could climb in and soak his dick in under the freezing stream from the faucet. He'd just have to go back and pretend to be a gentleman for her sake. Because she wanted to focus on the case, and technically, he wanted to not be in jail too--even if the only thing he could think of was her body and last night and everything in-between.
Hopefully she wouldn't be too tired after this whole thing, because he was dying to touch and taste her again.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Fuckin' hell... just give me a second, all right?"
He didn't bother to dry himself off as he walked back. When he opened the door, she was right there waiting.
"Oh, uh, hey."
"It's a unisex bathroom," she said.
"Yeah, it was the closest, so--"
Before he could come say another word, she pushed her way through and locked the door behind them.
"We've got less than fifteen minutes," she said.
Before he could even respond, she climbed up onto the counter between the sinks and hiked up her purple skirts and he got an idea why she'd forced her way in.
God, she was so wild and wicked. Just when he thought he couldn't be anymore turned on by her, she went and pulled this.
He tore those stockings in two right at the crotch, and spread her legs wide. She hadn't put on panties today. All this time he'd been this close to her, the heat of her body slipping into him. Had she been thinking of him too?
Had she planned this whole tryst out right from the minute they left?
Her legs wrapped around his hips. She pulled him in closer, closer to that sweet taste of heaven.
"God, Miss Pauling..."
"Keep it down, we're in public. And hurry it up. We don't have much time," she said.
He didn't need telling twice. The counter kept her right at the perfect angle to thrust in hard. Her back was to the mirror. He thought the faucet had to be digging into her, but she didn't complain. Her hands slipped down, to get herself off.
He pulled on her shirt, desperately, and buttons came flying off, but that wasn't all. The finest tits that the world had ever known were exposed to the cold air.
"Scout--"
He buried his face there, and took several gasping breaths. The purple lace of her bra dug into his cheek, his back began to protest from the way he'd positioned himself, but it was all worth it.
She had to bite her lower lip to keep a moan quiet. That only made him thrust in harder, until her beautiful green eyes widened, and she could barely keep still and silent.
He reached out to the hand drier and slammed down that button to drown out her moans with the roar and rush of that hot air.
"Scout, Scout..." she gasped as he gripped her hips tight.
He was balls deep in her, fucking in a Unisex bathroom, in mere minutes they'd be back trying to dance away from death--and oh, he was freaking married to Miss Pauling."
He slammed that air drier one more time as she let out a long whimper, and clenched tight about him. He gripped her ass tight, hard enough to leave marks on her milky skin. It was enough to destroy all control he had left as he took those last thrusts and came. Calm and pleasure filled him. Everything was quiet in his head instead of the usual chatter and constant brightness of images.
He leaned in, barely able to stand or even think. The fact that she had her legs about him so tightly was the only thing that kept his knees from buckling.
He leaned against the wall, and let out a long breath.
He smirked. "I thought you needed to be qu~iet, Miss Pauling."
She struggled for breath, could barely even respond or form words with the way he'd fucked her. Hell, she still might be coming from the way they went at it.
"You're welcome," he said.
"I told you, don't call me that anymore," she said.
"Sure thing, wifey," he said.
"I should fuck that smug smile right off your face," she said between gritted teeth.
"Later, we gotta go to this thing, remember?"
As she climbed down off the counter, white dripped down between her legs.
And you're welcome for that, too he thought.
"Right--court." She quickly grabbed a wetted paper towel to clean up the best she could. She let out a little shivery moan as she rubbed at her tender thighs.
"It might be easier just to take these stockings off," she said under her breath. "But, no time..."
He enjoyed the show, still too well fucked to do much more than sit in this post-coital good mood, and the fucking smugness that she was his, all his.
"Crap, we'll be late at this rate..." She broke off, and caught his gaze.
He lifted his eyebrows.
"Oh, fuck it," she muttered.
She cupped his face and stole one last kiss. Then she pushed him away, and rushed out that door. Scout felt dazed and dizzy from her, from it all. But a few seconds later he followed.
*
Next part
