fic: A Gambit

[bonnefois]

Title: A Gambit
Series: TF2
Character/Pairing: Spy, Miss Pauling mentions of Scout/Miss Pauling and Spy/Scout's mother.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 5,882
Author's note: Part of Loving Ghosts. For Sarah.



1969

It started like this: a beer, another, and another, and another. Spy stood in the corner, cloaked and invisible to them all. He held a glass with wine in it, hidden away, but barely drunk from. He needed to stay at least somewhat sober.

Spy had taken to staying in the dirty common room from time to time, to make sure that Soldier didn't suddenly get in his head that Scout needed to have his arms broken for whatever reason. Be it madness, supposed communism or a betrayal of the United States, whatever he deemed that today.

Soldier was often violent, even unhinged. No matter how many times Scout ended up in the infirmary, he never seemed to heed any warnings that there could be danger among his fellow comrades.

It wasn't enough to fill his days this way, protecting his errant son. Somehow Scout would always find a way to get hurt, no matter what Spy did.

(They said there was nothing worse than a parent having to lose a child. Well, he saw his son die dozens of times a day. And he was not as of yet numbed to the sight.)

No, don't think of him like that. Scout, the man he was now. A comrade and stranger.

(Perhaps he was fooling himself to think that he could distance himself. Anymore than he could leave the woman who held his heart completely.)

The only light in the room was the television of some sports game. The mounted deer on the wall looked almost eerie in that blue light. It also had a beer can over one antler, caught right on the tab.

(Other beer cans littered the wall. May god have mercy on their livers. And kidneys. And bladders.)

Red was the color chosen here in decor, a few sepias thrown in. Likely to hide the bloodstains and red clay tracked in on their dirty boots.

Spy scowled, unseen, and unheard over the blaring noise of the television. Sniper was passed out already at the end of the red couch, haven taken something harden than mere alcohol through it all. His hat was pulled down over his face.

Demoman had offered to bring more, even from his personal stash.

Scout's voice slurred. Usually, he preferred to drink Root Beer than actual beer. But on occasion, be it to try and impress a girl, or to stop the goading from his fellow mercenaries, Scout would drink.

"And she said, I should always look for Henri LeCroix. Somethin' like that...Think I'm close to figurin' out. I've been helpin' out Miss Pauling with the papers. And I caught sight of one in there."

Soldier's nose wrinkled up, like he'd smelt something unpleasant. "Sounds...unamerican."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Well, after I asked ma what the hell she was talkin' about. But she told me that's the guy I had to go to, so that's what I gotta do."

Spy downed the drink in one, fiery gulp. Just so he could have his hand free to place his hand there. His sigh had to be internal, silent, but oh it was deep. It was enough that he was playing with fire and flirting with the Administrator's daughter, now he was sifting through papers that could get him tortured, killed, or some combination of the two. Where his Respawn tether would last enough for the torturing session, and the release of death would be all too fleeting.

He'd never gone that far to have it actually happen to him but Scout was on that path, for certain.

Spy left the room as soundlessly as he could. Scout was on his own tonight. If he got his bones broken again, he'd simply have to hope Medic would be around. He had a bigger mess to clean up.

*

Spy made sure to knock, and step out of firing range. He'd already seen Engineer's well-meaning howdy's almost get him with a brand new hole in his head. Miss Pauling might not rely on sentries, but she was a good shot.

He'd know; he'd taught her.

He waited for the muffled come in before he opened the door. It was a claustrophobic place, small and without much of a hint of any personality. Lifeless shelves filled with papers, with the hint of weapons and ammo behind such seemingly innocuous supplies.

Except one new addition: a wintry snow globe. Strange, Miss Pauling wasn't one for knick-nacks and sentimentality. Her face flushed slightly as she noticed his gaze upon the snow globe.

Spy realized what the little letters said inside, finally. Boston.

"Spy, I didn't see you. I-I guess that's the point of being a Spy."

She pushed up her glasses, and put her pens in order on her desk. She had a nervous energy that was either too much coffee and too little sleep, or a wounded gazelle ploy--he couldn't tell quite which.

Or was it that he'd realized the gift?

He couldn't tell if she was humoring his surveillance at times, or if she really hadn't noticed. Boxes could be so useful at times. Most of the men were too brain-dead or drunk to notice a moving box across the base.

"I have a favor to ask of you," he said.

"Well, I've got fifty-three, no, make that eighty-three things to do before dinner tonight--"

"It's long past dinner."

She frowned and looked at the time. "Damn, you're right. Well, there goes any chance of me getting food tonight. This will be the third time this week, too."

"Miss Pauling?" Spy's voice was filled with concern.

"Oh, don't worry. I have coffee. And vodka. And Scout brought me a sandwich earlier." She stopped suddenly, eyes wide, as if she'd been caught in the act of something inappropriate.

"He, um, delivers food sometimes. I think he gets paid extra for it. Surely he's given Bidwell some too. I-I'm sure it isn't just me. The Administrator, she-she probably hired him to do some grunt work food delivery, the other men, all of them."

Somehow, Spy doubted that.

She cleared her throat. "Anyways. Go on."

"I have a request for you. Something important. For this, I will have to owe you."

She shifted uncomfortably at that.

"Are you sure you want to owe me like that? This isn't a simple thing. Whatever I'd ask would be something big. That's for sure. You couldn't pay me back with just cash, you see," she said.

Cash was meaningless to someone paid as much as her. Then again, cash was largely meaningless to Miss Pauling in general. She already was provided food and lodging through her work. She wore variations of the same clothes, all bought with a discount through Saxton Hale's store. All the vehicles and weapons were provided with her work. She never went on vacations or even little trips.

What was important to Miss Pauling? The Administrator's favor, and little else.

Though at times, he thought he saw a hint of what else caught her attention. A loudmouthed boy who got into far too much trouble.

Here it was again, the Sword of Damocles hanging over his head. He'd given an Miss Pauling an all powerful IOU, when he knew damn well the only loyalty she had was to the Voice. Just one of the many awful choices he'd made to keep his family safe.

Sometimes, he had to keep his family safe from himself. If it took another debt to the devil (or to be more precise, her daughter) to keep them safe, then so be it.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Well, it's your funeral. Not literally. At least this time. Hopefully not, at least, depending on what you want done," she said.

He laid the folder inside. It'd taken not too much time to find his own records--and certain birth records, as well. She took the folder. She quickly flipped through it, scanning her eyes over the information. She frowned, and flipped it around some more.

"This is a birth certificate. I'm not sure why you'd bring this to me. Did you get the wrong file? I'm not even sure I could do much with this," she said.

"No," he said.

"So you want this destroyed? There's an incinerator on base It's simple enough, I'm surprised you wouldn't do it yourself. I know you've done it plenty of times. In fact, you're a pro at it," she said.

"No. It's something you can only do. I'll need these documents falsified, and quite quickly as well," he said.

Her brow furrowed. "Falsified? What do you want done with them?"

"Jack Dempsey. You'll have to change some death dates; he died overseas before, you see. Li--Scout won't ask questions."

Even though Spy had attempted to help him with math, Scout never quite had a mind for figures. Unless they were ladies' figures. He could certainly focus on that.

"Well, I suppose if you're busy, I could do that easy enough. I don't need your money, but when I ask a favor, you'll have to put it top priority. Do you understand?"

"Of course," he said.

There was no telling what she would ask. Before, photos of a happy family had been an unsaid currency. Now, she would probably more ask his other expertise to help her busy day.

"All right," she said. "Was there anything else you needed?"

"No...just that. For now. And of course, do not speak of this."

"Of course, I never do," she said.

"Thank you for your discretion, Miss Pauling," he said.

He didn't say goodbye, but simply went out into the cold night. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket case and lit it for warmth. The things he did for his family.

It wasn't a question of if, but when. The words were ready, as if he'd already started a script. I trusted her and she betrayed me. Now will you believe that this girl you love is untrustworthy?

But Spy knew that nothing would sway Scout; if she sank a knife in his back, he'd say she slipped and it wasn't her fault.

Offering his back to be stabbed wasn't the first time he'd died for Colleen, and it wouldn't be the last.

*

Before he headed in, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

Spy turned back, to see Scout. He'd been been pacing a crack in the stones for some time, it seemed, given his dusty shoes.

"Hey, let me bum one of those off of you," Scout said.

He was surprised that Scout was this sober. Perhaps he'd drank enough--or he'd ended up in Respawn due to Soldier's sudden fits of rage. Who could tell at this hour?

Spy pulled out his cigarette case. Scout leaned in, and Spy lit the cigarette.

"Waiting for someone?" Spy said.

"Yeah, you could say that," Scout said.

"If you're drunk, you might want to just go home before you make more of a fool of yourself," Spy said.

"I ain't drunk, just a little buzzed. Bummed a swig or two from Demo to calm my nerves. Felt like they were on fire," Scout said.

It seemed far more than 'a few' when he'd last seen him. However, one thing he'd learned soon was that Scout exaggerated in every way possible.

Scout yawned. "Not sure it's better, but here I am. Maybe I should've drank some more, but I didn't wanna be drunk when I saw her. Too drunk, anyways. I'd always feel drunk just lookin' at her--those green eyes..."

He'd been there, and it'd been far more than a swig. But for once, Scout's tall tales were underestimating, instead of being grandiose in every way.

"Nerves? Don't tell me you've been going on vision quests with Sniper again," he said.

"That was one time! I didn't know I'd be seein' flyin' pink elephants. I just thought I was havin' a nice snack. Like, ain't mushrooms healthy and crap?"

"Some. Others are poisonous, or hallucinogenic," Spy said.

"I sure ain't lookin' at mushrooms the same way ever again. I won't even have them on my pizza, just in case those fuckers backstab me."

Scout took a cigarette up and took a deep breath. He coughed so violently, that Spy had to laugh.

Scout scrunched up his nose in disgust. "How do you take these things?"

"With lots of practice," Spy said.

"Sure, whatever you say..."

The cigarette burned down, but Scout didn't take another drag.

"Nah, I just..." Scout shook his head. He glanced back at Spy.

"Hey...Spy. You ever had this moment, where everythin' you think you want turns out to be...not? And what you want, what you really want is right there, so close but you can't just seem to get it. Nah..you probably ain't. You're some fancy lady's guy."

He looked to Scout, living proof of his mistakes, and the depth of his love for one woman that not even death, hell, or the Administrator herself could separate them.

Her, he thought, and then you.

"She won't be coming this way anytime soon,," Spy said.

Scout was so startled, that dropped the cigarette. "What? You heard from her?"

She was busy doing his task. Not that he'd tell Scout that.

"I overheard her on the phone while I passed her office. The door was open, you see. She'll be working most of the night, and even then, there's no guarantee she won't get assigned some other job. You could wait out here all night for nothing."

Of course, it wouldn't be the first time he lied to Liam, and not the last.

"Sheesh, they're really workin' her to death. I hope she's gettin' paid well for all that overtime at least," Scout said.

"I'm sure she receives at least some compensation. Not enough, but some."

Scout took too deep a drag and coughed. No one had ever taught him how to smoke properly. Spy could've in that moment, but instead he just softly laughed to himself as Scout choked his way through that cigarette, desperate to prove his mettle.

"I thought you did not like smoking, because it makes running hard," Spy said.

"Just need somethin' to take the edge off right now. It's just--She deserves so much better. I just want to see her smile more, you know? She should get a pay raise, a break. All that stuff. So I got all this energy and I don't know what to do with it. So I'm pacin' around here at dark o' fuckin' clock at night, just hopin' for a glimpse. Even just that, though damn if I could get to talk to her..."

What dangerous words. In 1945 he'd come across a woman in peacock blue who changed everything. She was supposed to be nothing more a nameless memory, and yet she'd become what shaped his life.

"I don't know, I ain't ever been like this before. My chest is weird, like I got bugs and crap in there all fluttering around. It sort of feels like I'm goin' to hurl, except the only thing I hurl is soundin' like some 12 year old squeaker and stutterin' out askin' how her day is or some crap. Talkin' about the weather. I tried to go flirt with some of the girls down at the bar and it was like when nothin' looks good in the fridge because you want pizza, and you'd get anythin' up for that pizza, you'd kill for that pizza, maybe even looked at a white dress in a store on the way and thought it'd look good on that pizza. Maybe even you asked your ma about that weddin' ring. For the pizza. And you never thought you'd be wantin' to settle down with that pizza, but somehow pizza is all you want, and all you ever want. Forever, even.'

Spy ducked his head to hide his smile. Scout was eloquent as always.

"I understand," Spy said. He knew all too well.

"I just, don't know how to even say somethin' like that. Every time I try and talk to her lately I get all choked up. Like, the hell's wrong with me? I used to be able to flirt with her easy, but now I just look at those green eyes and can't get over the thought that maybe we could hold hands, and maybe we could date."

Scout pulled off his hat with a sigh and rubbed at his hair. "Guess I'll figure it out another day."

"No one is promised tomorrow," Spy said.

"Maybe they aren't, but God likes me. Wouldn't believe the luck I've had. Stuff just falls out of the sky when I want it. I got a personal line up there."

"Mmhmm," Spy said. Scout was too caught up in his story to see Spy's smile. How many times he'd snuck gifts of food, of money, and exactly what Scout wanted to where he would find it. A windfall, a blessing from God, surely.

"Hope she's okay. Hope this isn't a sign of somethin' bad. I got all kinds of hopes, I guess," Scout said.

"We're going on a mission then," Spy said.

Scout looked up with excitement. "A mission? You--you think she'll call? Maybe even on that video majiggie?"

"Perhaps," he said.

"I'll tell her this time," he said. "For sure."

"Tell her what?"

"That I....Here, give me that cigarette."

He took a really long drag, and broke out coughing again.

"Fine, I won't tell her, 'cause there's nothin' to tell."

"Nothing? You certainly just said a lot for 'nothing.' No surprise there."

"I was drunk. Doesn't count," Scout said. He sounded almost sullen and petulant now.

"I thought you only had a few sips, and were just 'buzzed' as you put it?"

"Gettin' to drunk, then. Aight, I drank a little more than that, but I ate a bunch so it canceled itself out, all right? And the night--it's cool. It sobered me up a bit."

Of course, he had such poor alcohol tolerance. One bottle and he'd be quite drunk.

"Nothing to say, hmm? That'd be a first for you," Spy said teasingly.

"Just for that, I ain't givin' your cig back. Anyways, I'll get in a run if she'll be gone that long. Clear my head a bit."

"Don't go too far, or you might miss your chance," Spy said.

It wasn't the first time Scout had opened up to him, seemingly out of nowhere. He'd almost wondered, at the edge of his mind, if Miss Pauling had leaked the information. He was spending entirely too much time coming to him with petty problems.

Just as he had as a child.

But, no. She was too professional. They were alike in that way. When she reached his age, she'd have her own sea of regrets to surmount.

And he certainly shouldn't underestimate the power of Scout's big mouth.

Scout kicked at the ground, pushing up red dust and rocks, and finally glanced back.

"Listen..." Scout rubbed at his neck. "You take jobs, right? Like Sniper? Side jobs? Hiring jobs?"

"Sniper and I have very little in common, and while I do take jobs, it is not like that piss-soaked bushman."

"C'mon, he ain't that bad. He could shower more, but if I cut off everybody who needed a friggin' shower, I'd have to disown literally everyone but Miss Pauling around here."

"You think I don't shower?"

"Try washin' that face mask of yours for once, Frenchy," Scout said.

"My, what words that make me want to help you," Spy said.

Spy started to leave. Scout's smirking confidence turned into a moment of desperation.

"I-I'm kiddin', I'm kiddn'! Don't go, I really need your help, all right. Look, I ain't got the money now, but I can get it later. I send ma most of my paychecks. But, I wanna hire you. You know, for a job thing."

Spy gave Scout a dismissive glance.

"If you paid out your entire paycheck for five years, you might have half of what it costs to hire me," Spy said.

"Well, this ain't a killin' job. More a bodyguard job. Maybe not quite like that, but... Just, could you keep an eye out on Miss Pauling for me? With your stealthy spy stuff, I'm sure it'd be easy, right?"

"Miss Pauling is perfectly competent and capable of taking care of herself," Spy said.

"Yeah, that's part of what makes her so hot. But not even the big guy can take on an entire army alone. And she ain't Heavy. I ain't goin' to let her down. But somebody's gotta make sure she don't get backstabbed, and it can't be me all the time. Not with all these delivery boy crap they got me doin'. Just--look out for her. Make sure nobody is double crossin' her, you know? Just...it'd make me feel better if you would."

"And why would you trust me with this?" Spy said.

"What, you wanna force me to make a fool out of myself? Look, if that's what you want... I'll do it. I will put on a chicken suit or whatever stupid crap you got planned to make me look like the biggest jackass. I'll pay out all my money as long as ma has enough. I'll crawl on my knees and scrape and beg if it comes to it. But, please. Just make sure she's okay. I just...can't stand the thought of her bein' hurt and not bein' able to do anythin' about it."

"What do you know?"

"That her job is dangerous. And I wish I was there to watch her back. In more than one way," Scout said.

"Doing this could upset the order of things. You could hear from the Voice. You might even anger Miss Pauling for interfering."

"I'll watch over her when I can, make sure nobody's got a clean shot to her back, and take a bullet if she needs it. But sometimes, maybe I'm busy. Maybe I'm takin' a leak, or gettin' a drink. It happens. And I just..."

Scout stared out at the night.

"I want her to be happy, and safe. Because the thought of her not bein' is drivin' me fuckin' batty. And I just thought, maybe if I hired you, you could help."

His infatuation with Miss Pauling had progressed far more than Spy had realized. An unsettling thought, indeed.

But, in the end, no matter how far Spy ran from it, Scout was still his son. He couldn't resist a request, no matter how foolhardy.

"We'll talk the details later," Spy said.

"Wait, you'll take it? You'll really do it?" Scout said.

"Let's just say, I owe you a favor, and leave it at that," Spy said.

"A favor for puttin' up with you?" Scout said.

"Don't push your luck," Spy said.

"All right, thanks! I promise you won't regret this, not at all!"

Scout laughed, and ran off into the night.

"That remains to be seen," Spy said.

*

It'd be much easier if he could clone himself, he thought wryly. But as it was, he didn't have that power in Respawn. And any member of BLU couldn't be trusted, even if they had his DNA, his face, and maybe even a part of his tattered soul, if there was anything left.


This was one of the more deadly stakeouts he'd ever been in. Rarely had he had dealt with a protection job where his biggest danger was the one he was protecting killing him.

He kept a few steps behind her. Her exhaustion helped his case. Maybe maybe it was that very same exhaustion that didn't make her question when the Administrator ordered her to go late at night to the abandoned caverns of Mann co at the edge of the cavern, where there was no security and no one could hear her call for help.

"All right...checking the disturbance report...I think this is the one..."Miss Pauling muttered to herself.

The lights here barely worked.

At the corner of his eye, Spy noticed something. A shadow, other than himself. Scout had a second sense for things, or maybe he just was lucky.

She whirled around as the click came. There were quite a few of them--the men the Administrator would hire to kill her. Something which had been routine in her life. Her mother trying to push her closer to death, on a razor's edge. A test to see if she was worthy. But no matter how many times Miss Pauling passed this test, it never was quite enough to earn the Administrator's admiration.

Spy had done what he could over the years. Taught her how to kill, how to defend herself. He never even humored himself to think it was even slightly enough for everything she'd lost.

A childhood filled with blood and fear, all to mold her into a monster shaped like a petite girl.

"Oh, fuck," Miss Pauling said.

She ducked down in the doorway and reached for her gun. The machinery above the door sparked down onto the metal floor.

The sound of gunfire echoed in the halls. Sudden flashes of light. He remained cloaked, but his footsteps were hidden by the noise.

From the left corner, one of the hired hitmen advanced on her. She didn't see, as she reloaded.

Spy gripped his knife, and struck. The man fell against the wall, and Miss Pauling was none the wiser. She was far too looking beyond the doorway and firing at the men.

At the edge of the firefight, the made his way towards them. By their orders, it was a simple hit. On girl against dozens.

Except, in the night had come out a man who had once been known in much of Germany as the Angel of Death.

With this many, elegant backstabs weren't enough. The first fell easily, the second glanced up to see his neck slit before he could even scream.

Miss Pauling got the last one. A decent shot, considering.

If he'd had more time, he couldn've concealed the deaths. The bloody back from a knife wound was far too conspicuous and telling. Especially as Miss Pauling had cleaned up enough of his bodies to know the marks of his kills.

Blood was splattered over her clothes and face. There was something wild in her green eyes as she looked for signs. A fallen piece of paper, cigarette ash.

He cloaked at the wall and stood as still as he could, to catch his breath.

It wasn't enough, not nearly enough. Not when she was such an expert. A gun was leveled right at his chest. "I know you're there--Who are you working for?" she said.

Spy remained silent.

There was a click as she readied her gun. "I know you're there. Don't give me this shit. Start talking. Who. Are. You. Working. For?"

Such a temper for such a little girl. Spy sighed inwardly.

He could ignore her and simply disappear into the tunnels. Except, she knew where he lived. He wouldn't put it past her to shank him in his sleep.

The little girl she'd been wouldn't, but the woman she'd grown into? The five foot monster, who his son was rapidly falling in love with? She just might, despite their history.

"You, or perhaps the Voice. I'm not sure the two are as connected as they once were."

Something flickered over her face just for a second. She caught herself, but her armor wasn't quite so strong as she'd like the men to think. All it took was mere hint at her secrets for her composure to fall. It was only a second's weakness, but he had seen, and she knew.

"The Administrator hired someone to kill the hitmen she sent for me? That...doesn't sound like her at all."

"No, she didn't."

"Right, that doesn't sound like something she'd do at all," Miss Pauling said softly. Her shoulders slumped in sheer exhaustion. Had she even slept the night before?

Her gaze hardened as she stared him down.

"Don't play coy with me, Spy. I know you took out a contract. Who did it? ...Was it him? Of course it wasn't him, what am I even saying..."

"I don't reveal my sources. You do that too many times, and you get a bad reputation in my line of work," Spy said.

"It couldn't be him. He couldn't pay you, because he gives almost all his money to his mother. I know how much you charge, or thereabouts," she said.

Spy stepped out of the shadows, and out of cloaking.

"Shoot me if you wish and get it over with. But it will only mean more bodies for you to take care of."

She bit her lower lip, and slowly lowered the gun.

He snapped shut his cigarette and disguise kit. "I owed a favor, that was all. Now that it is done, I will be on my way."

"Wait, a favor? It was him, wasn't it? It's why he keeps asking about you," she said.

Leave it to Scout to completely botch up any trace of stealth. He'd never follow in Spy's footsteps, even if he had become a hired killer through it all.The fate he never wanted, to wake up every day and see the sum of his regrets on the battlefield with him.

But she had loved him for years, even when he didn't deserve it. She'd never moved on.

"He asked me to ensure your safety. That was all. Nothing as complex as a contract," Spy said.

"He better not be trying to open those briefcases and looking for data," Miss Pauling said.

"He wouldn't even understand them if he did. Focusing isn't his strong point."

"Then, he wanted, what?"

"I think the answer is pretty obvious, Miss Pauling," he said.

She sighed. "Obvious to everyone but me."

"Your safety. He wants you to be safe and was willing to hire me to accomplish that."

"Now, I'll take my leave. I've already taken my payment," he said.

Colleen had paid with every smile, every gentle kiss and tiny moments of stolen happiness.

"This is a one time affair. Next time, he'll have to brave the fray himself," Spy said.

"This isn't...a joke? He seriously got you to follow me? Does he have any idea how much trouble that could land him and you in? Hell, all of us?"

"You've met him. You should know the answer to that by now. He hasn't a clue. He never does. I could explain to him all day and he still wouldn't know."

"This is the most stupid, reckless plan I have ever heard of. I can't believe he got you to go along with this."

Spy smiled grimly.

"That's what he does," Spy said.

"Oh, fine. Thanks for that back there. I guess it is nice to have to not stumble into Medic's like I'm Swiss cheese. Maybe that isn't the best metaphor here..." she said.

"And I'll forgive it this time. But, next time I won't be so lenient. He's even more of a dumbass than I thought if he thinks I can't handle myself."

"He speaks nothing but good of you. But...when you love someone, you worry about their safety."

Miss Pauling stared not at him, but at her bloodied hands. "...When you love someone...?"

"And sometimes, because of those feelings, you make stupid choices. I certainly have made my fair share. He is perhaps the crowning achievement here."

"You knew it would come back to you then, didn't you?" She said softly.

"Yes, naturally. It was inevitable."

"Why didn't you stop?"

"Isn't it obvious, Miss Pauling? Because I loved her. That's what love does. It makes you do reckless things to stay near them, the keep them safe. Even if it beats all logic, even if it's difficult. Because the other option is barely living without them."

"I see..." She cleared her throat. "I wouldn't know anything about that. Anyways, I'll overlook it this time, but if I catch you sneaking around again..."

"Yes, yes, then you'll kill me. You've already made that abundantly clear," he said.

"I knew damn well what I was walking to, but I had to keep this promise to him. Even if it's the only promise I ever manage to keep."

"So, what, you'd risk a gun to the head? Because I have good aim," she said.

He'd taught her well.

"It's my job to not get caught. Good luck hitting thin air, Miss Pauling."

"And this isn't a payment for that thing you asked, just in case you thought it was," she said.

"I'm sure you wouldn't let me off quite so lightly," Spy said.

"You're weak to fire and smoke, among other things. I know your weaknesses," she said.

He was all too aware of that. At least she hadn't mentioned his greatest weakness: his family. The woman he loved and the son he'd only known from afar.

"But, thanks again, I guess."

"I'm not the one you should be thanking. I assumed you would be fine, given what a fearsome woman you are. He insisted that he wanted to ensure your safety. Eventually, I was worn down and accepted."

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment?"

"You should."

She pushed a dark lock of hair behind her ear. "Um....he really said all that?"

"And more. You should know by now that he never shuts up. It would be so much easier to say I was simply in the area, and felt like killing someone. You'd probably even believe such an excuse. Hell, I'd believe it more than the truth."

"Then why are you telling me this? That isn't very...stealthy of you."

"Because you had a gun to my chest? Because I've little else to do, now that you've found me? Because Scout will surely blab eventually, and I might as well be the one to tell you? Pick any of these, considering they all work."

But not the truth, that he hoped deep within him, that however unlikely it would seem, he might be able to find an ally in her.

He was a fool as ever.

"Oh," she said.

He took out his handkerchief, and held it out. The white cloth floated in the air, like a ghost.

"Here, take it. And no, I don't want it back. Burn it with the rest going into the incinerator."

"Thank you," she said. She wiped the blood spatters from her face.

"Back to work, I guess," she said. She started to gather the bodies.

He cloaked again, and walked away without another word into the night.

One favor paid. It wasn't nearly enough to make up for all the years he'd been nothing but a ghost at his family's side. But, it was something, at least.