fic: Flirting With Disaster (two)
Jul. 20th, 2021 01:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Flirting With Disaster (two)
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1,534
Summary: It started with surveillance, then a misbegotten bit of fantasy. Little by little, Miss Pauling found herself tumbling down, falling for the one person who could wreck all her careful plans.
Author's note:
Still for Sarah.
*
Even though it was daylight, she poured over the footage. It wasn't just battlefield footage anymore. The mercenaries were filmed twenty-four hours a day. The Administrator didn't care about things like privacy when she hired literal backstabbers. Her only goal was to keep the men from stealing potentially damaging information and selling it, or blurting out their secrets to anyone who would listen.
Scout was especially good at the last one.
She hadn't fallen into the rock bottom place of watching him shower yet. (Would it make her more or less of a pervert in the knowledge that he'd love the idea of her watching him, and would put on a show for her every single time?)
She rewound the footage. Gotcha. Instead of pulling off his headset and leaving it with the equipment, like was mandated with all TFI equipment, he left it on his head and walked out. And off property.
She now had an excuse to be alone with him in a dark room, one of the few places which wasn't filmed.
Of course, torture was best not filmed. There was already mountains of evidence to use against them should someone ever try and take TFI and Mann co. down.
Though she had no plan of snapping his fingers, making cuts and putting salt in the wounds, or anything else in her repository of skills.
*
The room was poorly lit and dank, like crawling into a prison. It'd been manufactured to keep whoever got sent their subdued, but it rarely worked with the mercenaries. The wall, however, wasn't as plain as it looked. On the other side was a button which would switch open a hidden door. On the other side were the implements of torture, should any of the mercenaries, other crew, or any other victims be troublesome.
However, few of the men were ever cowed by this room. They were too battle-hardened, having gone through concentration camps and prisons far worse than this one. Scout, too was undaunted by the idea of another strike on his record. He tapped his fingers on the desk. Always full of fire and nervous energy. He smirked as she came in.
"Hey, I'm gettin' quite a record here. Last time it was Ol Biddy who wrote me up. Gotta say, I prefer you doin' the disciplinin'."
Miss Pauling looked up from her clipboard. "Is that so?"
There were mercenaries she could hypothetically fuck and get it out of her system and still be professional with, but Scout was not one of them. She was flirting with disaster. Even as she knew this--or because of it--she felt electric under her skin, magnetic as she came closer.
"You kept TFI property on your latest trip out of the compound," Miss Pauling said. Miss Pauling clicked her pen. "A distinct violation of your contract."
"What, my earpiece?" He shrugged. "I just forget it's there. Besides, ain't it better to have me around so you can reach me anytime in case you need me?"
She didn't say anything.
He licked his lips. "Oh by all means, punish me."
Oh, the things she could do to him. He couldn't even imagine. She'd make it last long, make him scream before it was all over.
Miss Pauling jolted her thoughts back to reality.
"I'll write you up a citation. Don't do it again," she said.
"That all?" Scout said. "Because I got all day, when it comes to you."
She clutched her pen tighter. He was just across the table. She could crawl on top of that table and watch his smug expression turn to shock as she kissed him. Or, she could simply get up and kiss him. Hell, she could slam him onto that table and ride him so hard he forgot his own name.
Miss Pauling nearly dropped her pen.
What the hell am I thinking? What the hell am I doing?
She stared down at the clipboard. The words blurred. Were the lights just high enough for him to see her flushed cheeks? She wanted this. It was so easy to pull the trigger and end another life. But fucking her coworker who clearly wanted her? That had disaster written all over it.
"...That's all," she said.
"Hey, Miss Pauling...Before you go..."
Scout dug into his pocket. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. As he smoothed out the creases. She recognized it immediately as a page pulled out from a newspaper. She didn't even know he read anything other than comics.
He held it up with a smile. "I tried to call, but kept gettin' a busy signal. But you came right here, like fate. You got any time in that busy schedule for me?"
Miss Pauling licked her lips. She'd tried to get him out of her system with someone else, and caught him instead. Well, she'd gotten her answer.
"I'll talk to you about it later. We both need to get back to work," she said.
His expression turned sad for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure, and gave her a smirk on the way out.
"I'll be waitin'," he said.
He held up his hand in a last wave as he left. When the door was closed, Miss Pauling practically fell into that chair, and welcomed the cold feel of it against her thighs.
She took several more minutes to regain her own composure. Because she knew that resisting was a thing of a past. After all, she'd tried to go after someone else--someone easily disposable, someone to distract herself with.
The static in her mind faded into the first formation of a plan.
*
That was the night her fantasies turned into notes in her to-do list. She already knew his answer: he'd made it very, very, very clear he would gladly fuck her. All she had to do was somehow keep it from the Administrator, and keep them both alive. However, this was no small feat.
She'd always thought things like dangerous affairs, both marital and love were stupid, pathetic, and yet here she was. On the edge of loneliness and sexual frustration, playing with fire.
There weren't many places where she could avoid all the cameras and listening devices. The mercenaries had no idea the extent of how much they were watched, except for Spy. Engineer should know better, but then, maybe he simply had nothing to hide.
(Miss Pauling doubted this. If her job had taught her anything, it was that everyone had something to hide.)
She'd replaced most of the listening devices in her apartment, but they were constantly being renewed, so that it had become an unspoken war between her and the Administrator for her privacy. Neither ever acknowledged that it happened, and each new day would be one where she kept her composure--and cameras out of her own spaces.
Thankfully, this night Scout didn't go out carousing. In fact, he'd stayed home recently, and ran into her quite a bit.
Probably by design.
This time, she had him right where she wanted him.
"Hey, Miss Pauling."
Scout grinned big. He always leaned in to her while he was talking, like she had some magnetic pull to him.
He couldn't stand still, even now. He was constantly moving, and difficult to keep up with from his digressions to bragging and back again.
"You're up late. Gettin' coffee? Yeah, you'll be up all night. I'm probably gonna be up all night with drinkin' coffee, too."
"I have...a mission for you," she said.
"Oh, somethin' to get through before we talk about that ad? No biggie! I'll finish it so fast, you'll be amazed--make that even more amazed."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.
"Meet me here. And be quiet about it, and about that. Ahem...the ad. Memorize it, and then burn the paper. Understood?"
Scout winked. "Gotcha."
"And Scout...one more thing," she said.
"Yeah?"
"Cut the hand wraps off before you arrive," she said.
He smirked. "You got a special mission for me? I ain't goin' to let you down."
"I hope not, consider how long I've been waiting," she said.
She could scarcely believe she'd actually done it as she left the room. She leaned against the cold metal wall. She felt the same kind of rush as if she'd been through a firefight.
God, was she actually doing this? Sleeping with a coworker--and the one most prone to blabbing secrets, as that. It probably wasn't the most reckless thing she'd done, considering some of the jobs that Saxton Hale had her do, but it was close.
She returned to her apartment. It overlooked the base, higher up than the men's rooms. She was pulled taut. Every nerve was tense. All the rationality was sounding the alarm.
She was going to get what she needed, consequences be damned.
*
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1,534
Summary: It started with surveillance, then a misbegotten bit of fantasy. Little by little, Miss Pauling found herself tumbling down, falling for the one person who could wreck all her careful plans.
Author's note:
Still for Sarah.
*
Even though it was daylight, she poured over the footage. It wasn't just battlefield footage anymore. The mercenaries were filmed twenty-four hours a day. The Administrator didn't care about things like privacy when she hired literal backstabbers. Her only goal was to keep the men from stealing potentially damaging information and selling it, or blurting out their secrets to anyone who would listen.
Scout was especially good at the last one.
She hadn't fallen into the rock bottom place of watching him shower yet. (Would it make her more or less of a pervert in the knowledge that he'd love the idea of her watching him, and would put on a show for her every single time?)
She rewound the footage. Gotcha. Instead of pulling off his headset and leaving it with the equipment, like was mandated with all TFI equipment, he left it on his head and walked out. And off property.
She now had an excuse to be alone with him in a dark room, one of the few places which wasn't filmed.
Of course, torture was best not filmed. There was already mountains of evidence to use against them should someone ever try and take TFI and Mann co. down.
Though she had no plan of snapping his fingers, making cuts and putting salt in the wounds, or anything else in her repository of skills.
*
The room was poorly lit and dank, like crawling into a prison. It'd been manufactured to keep whoever got sent their subdued, but it rarely worked with the mercenaries. The wall, however, wasn't as plain as it looked. On the other side was a button which would switch open a hidden door. On the other side were the implements of torture, should any of the mercenaries, other crew, or any other victims be troublesome.
However, few of the men were ever cowed by this room. They were too battle-hardened, having gone through concentration camps and prisons far worse than this one. Scout, too was undaunted by the idea of another strike on his record. He tapped his fingers on the desk. Always full of fire and nervous energy. He smirked as she came in.
"Hey, I'm gettin' quite a record here. Last time it was Ol Biddy who wrote me up. Gotta say, I prefer you doin' the disciplinin'."
Miss Pauling looked up from her clipboard. "Is that so?"
There were mercenaries she could hypothetically fuck and get it out of her system and still be professional with, but Scout was not one of them. She was flirting with disaster. Even as she knew this--or because of it--she felt electric under her skin, magnetic as she came closer.
"You kept TFI property on your latest trip out of the compound," Miss Pauling said. Miss Pauling clicked her pen. "A distinct violation of your contract."
"What, my earpiece?" He shrugged. "I just forget it's there. Besides, ain't it better to have me around so you can reach me anytime in case you need me?"
She didn't say anything.
He licked his lips. "Oh by all means, punish me."
Oh, the things she could do to him. He couldn't even imagine. She'd make it last long, make him scream before it was all over.
Miss Pauling jolted her thoughts back to reality.
"I'll write you up a citation. Don't do it again," she said.
"That all?" Scout said. "Because I got all day, when it comes to you."
She clutched her pen tighter. He was just across the table. She could crawl on top of that table and watch his smug expression turn to shock as she kissed him. Or, she could simply get up and kiss him. Hell, she could slam him onto that table and ride him so hard he forgot his own name.
Miss Pauling nearly dropped her pen.
What the hell am I thinking? What the hell am I doing?
She stared down at the clipboard. The words blurred. Were the lights just high enough for him to see her flushed cheeks? She wanted this. It was so easy to pull the trigger and end another life. But fucking her coworker who clearly wanted her? That had disaster written all over it.
"...That's all," she said.
"Hey, Miss Pauling...Before you go..."
Scout dug into his pocket. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. As he smoothed out the creases. She recognized it immediately as a page pulled out from a newspaper. She didn't even know he read anything other than comics.
He held it up with a smile. "I tried to call, but kept gettin' a busy signal. But you came right here, like fate. You got any time in that busy schedule for me?"
Miss Pauling licked her lips. She'd tried to get him out of her system with someone else, and caught him instead. Well, she'd gotten her answer.
"I'll talk to you about it later. We both need to get back to work," she said.
His expression turned sad for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure, and gave her a smirk on the way out.
"I'll be waitin'," he said.
He held up his hand in a last wave as he left. When the door was closed, Miss Pauling practically fell into that chair, and welcomed the cold feel of it against her thighs.
She took several more minutes to regain her own composure. Because she knew that resisting was a thing of a past. After all, she'd tried to go after someone else--someone easily disposable, someone to distract herself with.
The static in her mind faded into the first formation of a plan.
*
That was the night her fantasies turned into notes in her to-do list. She already knew his answer: he'd made it very, very, very clear he would gladly fuck her. All she had to do was somehow keep it from the Administrator, and keep them both alive. However, this was no small feat.
She'd always thought things like dangerous affairs, both marital and love were stupid, pathetic, and yet here she was. On the edge of loneliness and sexual frustration, playing with fire.
There weren't many places where she could avoid all the cameras and listening devices. The mercenaries had no idea the extent of how much they were watched, except for Spy. Engineer should know better, but then, maybe he simply had nothing to hide.
(Miss Pauling doubted this. If her job had taught her anything, it was that everyone had something to hide.)
She'd replaced most of the listening devices in her apartment, but they were constantly being renewed, so that it had become an unspoken war between her and the Administrator for her privacy. Neither ever acknowledged that it happened, and each new day would be one where she kept her composure--and cameras out of her own spaces.
Thankfully, this night Scout didn't go out carousing. In fact, he'd stayed home recently, and ran into her quite a bit.
Probably by design.
This time, she had him right where she wanted him.
"Hey, Miss Pauling."
Scout grinned big. He always leaned in to her while he was talking, like she had some magnetic pull to him.
He couldn't stand still, even now. He was constantly moving, and difficult to keep up with from his digressions to bragging and back again.
"You're up late. Gettin' coffee? Yeah, you'll be up all night. I'm probably gonna be up all night with drinkin' coffee, too."
"I have...a mission for you," she said.
"Oh, somethin' to get through before we talk about that ad? No biggie! I'll finish it so fast, you'll be amazed--make that even more amazed."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.
"Meet me here. And be quiet about it, and about that. Ahem...the ad. Memorize it, and then burn the paper. Understood?"
Scout winked. "Gotcha."
"And Scout...one more thing," she said.
"Yeah?"
"Cut the hand wraps off before you arrive," she said.
He smirked. "You got a special mission for me? I ain't goin' to let you down."
"I hope not, consider how long I've been waiting," she said.
She could scarcely believe she'd actually done it as she left the room. She leaned against the cold metal wall. She felt the same kind of rush as if she'd been through a firefight.
God, was she actually doing this? Sleeping with a coworker--and the one most prone to blabbing secrets, as that. It probably wasn't the most reckless thing she'd done, considering some of the jobs that Saxton Hale had her do, but it was close.
She returned to her apartment. It overlooked the base, higher up than the men's rooms. She was pulled taut. Every nerve was tense. All the rationality was sounding the alarm.
She was going to get what she needed, consequences be damned.
*
