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It took an embarrassing number of times for Miss Pauling's apartment door to finally be locked but at this point she couldn't give less of a s**t. Kicking her flats off, the assistant made her way into the four room apartment and flopped down on her loveseat, groaning. And there was a high possibility that she would have fallen asleep right then and there if not for the fact that her feet were aching so bad.
And her head. And her arms from carrying 40 pound binders and folders nearly the entire day. Everything, from her head to her toes, felt as though they would fall off at any given moment.
Miss Pauling groaned again, rubbing her temples in a vain attempt to quell the pounding in them. It had started at around nine in the morning and hadn't stopped since. And it wasn't even the predictable kind, this didn't seem to have any distinct pattern she could use to fend off the pain. Sometimes the thumping would ease into a dull soreness then it would increase into sharp pangs that made it near impossible to concentrate. Taking any medication, as she did at least four times today, didn't help. If it was still there by tomorrow she'd meet with Medic and get him to make some headache cure with enough power to take out a bull elephant.
A moment passed. Then another before the assistant sat up and stood while cracking her back. That was also quite painful due to everything. A yawn slipped through her lips and, with half-lidded eyes, spotted the large stack of paperwork resting upon her small kitchen table. No doubt it was stuff she didn't complete fast enough for The Administrator's liking which meant another night of overtime. Great.
She wiped her eyes from the tired wetness forming in them and made her way to the pile of folders and files. Sitting down and yawning, Miss Pauling began to sort through the mess of dead trees, organizing them into piles of most urgent to least urgent. Some applications for new orderlies, some legal papers she needed to forge, contracts that needed forming and signing, dates for Mann Co. meetings, and-
Miss Pauling nearly screamed out of frustration. Out of all the days that Helen wanted her to update the mercenaries transcripts, it had to be this one. What time was it? She shot a glare at her clock, the only decoration she had hanging on her wall. 8:17 PM. If she was lucky she'd finish all of this by two. If she was lucky. Another groan before she pulled the largest stack of papers towards her-
A crumpled piece of notebook paper caught her eye. It was hidden at the very bottom of the pile and Miss Pauling only spotted it from the shifting she had just caused. Lifting the heavy stack up, she took the page and gently eased it out as to not tear the fragile thing. Under the harsh yellow light of her kitchen's ceiling lamp, she could make out large, shaky handwriting in a light purple.
9:30, Walrus Rock.
Polka ̶P̶o̶t̶s̶ Dots Please.
Now, six months ago if Miss Pauling found a crumpled note with only a time and a date and some strange plea for dots written on it, she would have instantly assumed it to be a threat. Now though, while the idea of a threat still came to mind, it was easily brushed aside by a realization. A realization that brought just the smallest of small smiles to her face.
But what did polka dots have to do with anything-
Oh. Oh, but why that one? Probably because it was a gift and she hadn't worn it yet. But still. Miss Pauling began to chew on her lip, looking from the note, to her bedroom, down at the paperwork, and back to the note again. She would get one nasty lecture from The Administrator if she flaked on her responsibilities. But then again, the notes didn't show up at her table unless there was something important- well, "important", going on. And those somethings were always so, so much better than having to bring work home. But she was also so tired already…
Miss Pauling looked down at her assignments and glared. On any other day she would do them without hesitation. And although she was considering it, there was just the tiniest spark of spite that soon engulfed her mind. With a simple phrase, she stood and made her way towards her bedroom closet.
"**** it."
The night wind rushed past her as she sped down the motorways on her light lavender scooter. The autumn air nipped at her nose despite the desert surroundings making Miss Pauling wish she brought at the very least a cardigan.
Instead of her normal outfit of a pencil skirt and purple button up, Miss Pauling wore a sleeveless light white dress that went little past her knees. It would have been just a nice plain outfit if it weren't for the fact that the skirt part was covered in medium lavender polka dots.
It wasn't like she hated it but she couldn't really find the appeal. Even when she twirled in front of her mirror back home it didn't seem to click. Maybe it was just a tad looser than what she was used to. That could be it.
Besides the dress, Miss Pauling remade her makeup and put on a little charm bracelet she had received at the very beginning of her "outings". The bracelet had four charms: a seashell, a daisy, a sun, and a moon.
The charms were a replacement for photos. Photos were evidence and she couldn't allow them to be used against her. Especially to be seen by The Administrator.
Honestly, it was a miracle they kept it hidden for this long without anyone knowing. And she meant it given his nature and The Administrator's keen eyes. The lady hated friendships and made it quite clear to Miss Pauling each time she watched the matches play out and spotted two of their mercenaries chatting. That same hatred for friendships was somehow even greater towards relationships. Relationships were dangerous in her eyes, especially ones that involved your employees.
Helen would despise Miss Pauling's little quest for companionship. And no doubt it would be even worse if she knew who Miss Pauling was involved with. The Administrator merely tolerated her mercenaries but he was the one she tolerated the least with his boastful and loud nature. And if she found out about this then Miss Pauling could kiss her job goodbye.
The thought scared her and oftentimes she wondered whether this little double life thing was worth it. But no matter how many times she was reminded of the risks, Miss Pauling didn't stop.
The Moon was shining down when she finally reached her destination. The place was barren besides large croppings of red desert stones and structures. And it seemed that her companion was already there. A tiny smirk settled on her face when she spotted him.
He was currently a little way off fighting to keep his hair made. His cowlick just wouldn't stay flat and it was clear from his stiff posture that it was annoying him to no end. After the latest attempt, Scout swore, kicked the dirt, and turned to find Miss Pauling looking on from her scooter.
"Oh s**t, ya scared m-! ...Holy crap." The runner went slack jawed the second he spotted her. Instead of focusing on the way he was looking at her, Miss Pauling examined Scout's outfit.
It had to be one of the nicest ways he dressed she'd ever seen. Besides the thick red ace jacket he was wearing, the Bostonian had on a nice simple dress shirt and some deep grey jeans. So… it wasn't Spy levels of fashion but it was probably the closest Scout could possibly get without having a gun to his head.
"Holy crap. I'm- you're- there's-, there is no words on fricking planet Earth that can describe how fricking beautiful you are. And you're wearing the dress I got ya!"
"At least you're trying. And you don't look too bad yourself." Miss Pauling replied, slipping off her helmet and walking over to Scout. He met her halfway. "But one question. Two, actually."
"Shoot!" Scout grinned as he took her hand and began leading her behind some stones.
"Why polkadots?"
"Cause girls look fricking amazing wearing dots. And since you're, like, the alpha male of girls, it only makes sense that you'd look like an angel in them!" Miss Pauling rolled her eyes and smiled beside herself. Scout had a very blunt and strange way of making compliments but, hey, she wasn't complaining.
"Fair, but what's so special about today? You probably saw the amount of work I still have to get done." At that, Scout stopped and looked back at her with an almost sorrowful expression.
"Ya… ya really don't remember?" He asked, eyes wide. She shook her head, delayed and guilty.
"Not really…" She admitted. Scout began to sputter and suddenly looked a bit mad. That anger was only there for a second before he grinned again and started pulling her along faster than before.
"Well, you'll remember soon enough." was the only thing he said as they walked. The longer he pulled her along, the more Miss Pauling noticed things. Like how the sky didn't have a cloud in sight, how big the night sky looked because of it, how long it had been since she even looked at the night sky, how Scout's hands were covered in bandaids and how despite having taken her hand five minutes ago, she hadn't held it back. She quickly corrected her mistake, giving Scout's hand a little squeeze to have him squeeze her hand back.
It really was strange just how much things seemed to change from when they first met, back when she had just hired him to fill the Scout position. Back then, Miss Pauling had only seen him as a loudmouth, a womanizer, and a complete narcissist. Back when he would flirt with her any chance he got, just like with every other girl their age. Then something changed.
Scout was still all those things, yes, but those weren't nearly as prominent in his personality as Miss Pauling first assumed. And over the years she found out more and more about him, it was kind of part of her job.
His name was Jeremy O'Connor and he born in Boston, Massachusetts. He was currently 23 years old, had seven older brothers, and grew up in near poverty. At age sixteen he was arrested for Second Degree Murder but was left off due to a tecnicallity and lack of evidence and dropped out of High School soon after. His hobbies included sports like Baseball and Hockey, reading comics, watching Science Fiction movies, playing board games with his favorite being Sorry!, dancing and singing along to Tom Jones albums, reading HP. Lovecraft books(something they shared in common), drawing little comics of his coworkers, and creating the strangest concoctions of drinks she'd ever seen. And drunk.
The cherry cola with chocolate syrup was actually pretty good.
And his personality was also more complex than Miss Pauling gave him credit for. Scout was honest, boisterous, energetic, funny, and creative. He was friendly and was incredibly optimistic most of the time. Scout was fast, one of the reasons why he was hired; the fastest human she had ever known. He could probably win gold at the Olympics if he went that way in life. And he was violent. The other reason why he was hired.
Even his flirtatious habits eased back after a while. Only with her though. Maybe that was what ticked her off that his little pickup lines were something more. At first, he would whistle and flirt every time they met. Then after a point he changed and became more nervous and would stammer and speak near gibberish whenever they spoke. And he got sweet. Offering assistance whenever he could, giving more compliments than remarks, and the little gifts she would end up finding on her desk like little chocolates and that adorable little white bear.
Miss Pauling began to appreciate his small gestures and then that appreciation grew to be something almost kind of but not quite like-
"We're almost to the Walrus!"
"Good, my feet are killing me." Miss Pauling mumbled. It was true, her feet, already sore from before, were now filled with needles and thorns each time she took a step.
"Could carry you if ya want." Scout offered.
"No thanks, like you said, we're already almost there."
"Oh, right!" Scout turned and took her other hand. "Close ya eyes!" She shot up an eyebrow. "C'mon, Miss P.! It's a surprise now! Close ya eyes."
With a light shake of her head, Miss Pauling closed her eyes. The dark night became a void as Miss Pauling felt herself get pulled along and up a small incline. A moment later they had stopped.
"Still closing them?"
"Yup."
"Okay, you can open them now!" She opened her eyes, and for a second, didn't know what the big deal was. Then she actually took in what was in front of her and forgot how to speak.
It wasn't some grandiose ball or a gigantic display of affection. It was a simple little picnic. With a small red blanket draped across the sandy ground, a small arrangement of dishes was spread across its surface. A basket of food was set to the side along with what appeared to be a very expensive bottle of wine. But the true centerpiece was the small pile of presents sitting in the middle of the fabric.
"Happy birthday, Miss Pauling." She felt a gentle kiss upon her temple which snapped her out of her trance.
"Wha- well, what's all this?" She asked even though Scout already gave her the answer.
"A birthday date! A Birthdate!" Scout grinned and trotted up to the setting. "Also, I'm letting you know right now, I have no idea what Medic decided to get you but I wouldn't put it past him to stuff a horse liver in a box or something and call it a gift."
Miss Pauling stood there, drinking it all in. And she probably stood there too long since Scout's grin seemed to falter.
"Do you not like it? I know I should have told ya but I thought-"
"No! No, I…" She paused, reaching for the words she needed. "I just, how did I forget?"
"It's… It's okay, I forget crap all the time. H*ll, I forget my own birthday too! It's hard to remember that kinda stuff when you don't get to celebrate it every year."
"Right, no this is, this is great. Thank you." At that, Scout's grin became genuine again and he gestured for her.
"Well c'mon, don't want the food getting colder than it already is!" Miss Pauling allowed herself a smile and she walked over and sat opposite of Scout. A breeze blew past and she shivered, an action that caught Scout's eye.
"Ya cold?"
"Just a bit but-" the cold world was suddenly cut off by a thick wall of fabric. Around her shoulders was Scout's jacket. She didn't even see him move.
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Miss Pauling slipped it on fully, allowing the warmth of the coat to ease her goosebumps. As she pulled it close, she could just make out the scent of cherries and cheap cologne. Looking back up to thank her companion, she caught Scout staring with the slightest of blushes.
"What?"
"Nothing." He said quickly, busying himself with the basket, "Man, I don't know about you but I'm starving! Skipped lunch planning this whole thing out. And it didn't even work out right."
"What do you mean?" Miss Pauling asked. In her opinion, this was much better than what she had imagined. Scout rocked his hand with an iffy expression.
"Weeell, ya see, I was planning on making a real fancy meal. Like the ones ya get at those five stars restaurants. And what are they known for? Steak dinners! So, I was thinking "Hey! My awesome girlfriend is turning 23 today, how bout I make her the greatest steak dinner ever!?" Thing is, I don't know s**t about making steak dinners and the only steak around is Heavy's but he keeps that crap locked up tight plus it's fricking frozen and that takes, like, a week to thaw and I ain't got time for that! So next best thing was spaghetti but I'm also not allowed near the stove after "The Incident", right? But I wasn't leaving till I made something so I started boiling the pot of water and crap and then Engie shows up yelling about the kitchen rules and I was all like "screw you, I making a birthday date dinner!" and he was all like "Birthday date dinner? What in the h*ll is that?" so I told him and-"
"Scout," Miss Pauling interrupted, "cut to the chase."
"Chase is that I was stuck getting burgers from that diner ya like down in Teufort." Scout mumbled, refusing to meet her eyes. "I was hoping to make this more better but my hands got tied. Sorry." He brought out the hamburgers wrapped in foil and handed her one with a blue sticker on it. "Made sure that your's didn't have any tomatoes, don't worry."
"Hey, don't feel bad. This," Miss Pauling gestured to the spread before her, "is far better than being stuck in an apartment eating reheated meatloaf."
"Still, it always feels like something don't turn out right when we do these things." Yeah, that was slightly true. But Miss Pauling couldn't say she didn't enjoy them regardless. First one was fighting that huge bread tentacle monster, then it was the little evening they had here when Scout first described that big boulder to the right of looking like a walrus(and it did to a concerning extent). While they were dancing Scout managed to step directly into an old gopher hole and sprained his ankle so bad he couldn't stand. Every time there was something that seemed to cut their time short and yeah, it was pretty annoying.
"Well, at least this time we didn't get caked in sludge." She said before taking a bite of her food. Bit cold. But great.
"Yeah, you're right, like always. Anyways," Scout snatched up the expensive looking bottle of wine, "thirsty?"
"Yes."
"Sweet, lemme just," Scout grabbed the cork and tried pulling it out. Once that didn't work, he tried twisting it out. And that also ended in failure.
"So where did you get that?" Miss Pauling asked as she watched her partner's face grow pink with effort.
"Snatched it from Spy." He grumbled.
"So you stole it?"
"Nah, besides, he owes me."
"For what?"
"Being a prick, that's what." Miss Pauling snorted in laughter before grabbing the wine away from Scout, who had resorted to gnawing the cork off. With a sigh of defeat, he watched as she reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife. She flicked the cork opener up and twisted it into the bottletop before yanking it out with a comical pop.
"Kay, but I totally loosened it up for ya." Scout mumbled as he was handed back the wine to pour.
"Of course."
The wine was poured albeit without some spillage due to Scout's naturally twitchy hands. And the night went by with Scout telling stories and Miss Pauling listening and adding in some commentary whenever she saw fit. He would make a bad joke, she'd laugh out of slight pity but then he'd say something actually funny and that would send her into a laughing fit which would send Scout into one as well and soon it became a real mess. Maybe that was due to the alcohol, it would make some sense.
"Hey, you wanna," Scout said after sometime, mouth full from eating french fries(they had gotten into a little war involving them since the runner thought it was so d*mn funny keeping those delicious potato strips away from her), "you wanna ride The Walrus?"
Miss Pauling nearly choked on her fries as she said, "Why?"
"Cause I still need a… y'know, a picture!" Right, his sketches. Since they agreed photos were a no-go, and Scout didn't enjoy the idea of also having a charm bracelet, he sketched moments from their dates. Her favorite of the small collection they made was the one where he drew them coated in sludge from the "beach trip" after she'd slipped into the mud and Scout joined her to lessen the embarrassing blow.
"Mmm, no."
"What, why?"
"Because you're being mean," she pouted, evening jutting her lip out to sell her fake outrage.
"Aw, c'mon, Miss P.! I gotcha a charm for this, can't I have my share?"
"Hmm," She looked over at Scout who was, curse the man, giving her his cute little puppy eyes. Miss Pauling might have the runner wrapped around her finger but Scout also did with her.
B*****d.
"You let me have the rest of the fries and I'll ride The Walrus."
"DEAL!" Scout shoved the bag of greasy food into her hands before snatching up his sketchbook. Well, at least she was getting something out of it. Popping a fry into her mouth, Miss Pauling stood, brushed off the sand from her dress, and walked over to The Walrus.
The Walrus was about the size of a normal male walrus, which was still quite big, but at least she could actually hoist herself up. With a small hfm, she lifted herself onto the cold stone and sat on it's back. She looked across to see Scout plant himself down on the sand and already sketching away.
"Should I keep still?" She asked.
"Nah," Scout replied, sticking his tongue out in concentration, "I let ya know when I'm done." A nod, and Miss Pauling began to munch on her salty snacks as her companion drew away. The sounds of scratching lead against paper echoed through the desert air along with the occasional jingle of her charms.
After the fries were all gone, Miss Pauling busied herself with looking over her silver bracelet. It was made of Tungsten, at least, that's what Scout had said. He was the one who thought up the idea. A simple beaded chain that was home to the far more detailed charms. Her personal favorite was the moon. Not because it was the prettiest or most intricate. In fact, the moon was probably the ugliest simply because it was so plain compared to her other charms. The daisy had a small jasper in the center, the sun had it's golden helms and engravings that made it look ancient. The seashell sparkled in the light but the moon was a plain crescent made of steel. Why was it her favorite? Because the memory behind it was her favorite.
It was the night Scout had decided, in his utter foolishness, to wake her up at around three in the morning to stargaze. That action alone nearly got him killed at her ornery and exhausted hands. But she'd gone along and to this day Miss Pauling couldn't begin to understand why. Not that she ever regretted it. That day was special from what happened at the very end.
Maybe it happened because both of them were so tired. Maybe Miss Pauling thought that watching balls of gas millions of miles away wasn't worth her broken sleep schedule alone. Or maybe she was just feeling like it. But somehow, against fate itself, against the yawns that erupted every five seconds, against her better judgement, and against Scout's hesitation, they kissed.
And Scout was not a good kisser.
But not in the way most would think. He didn't push it or get experimental like what most would probably do. What always happened, without fault, was that he just couldn't kiss back because his lips would be stretched thin from smiling too much. Only when their lips met, however. He was completely fine with noses, jawlines, temples, and cheeks. At least nowadays he's able to keep them together unlike the first time. The image of Scout desperately rubbing lipstick off his front teeth brought a smile to Miss Pauling's face. But it would always happen. Whenever she kisses him, Scout just instantly breaks out into a wonderful smile; the kind that brings wrinkles at the corners of your eyes and forms small dimples in your cheeks as they blushed with the faintest warmth. It was cute. And that was why the moon charm was her favorite.
"Done!" Scout's enthusiastic cry broke her trance. Miss Pauling hopped down from The Walrus and Scout met her halfway, buck teeth shining in a wide grin.
"Feast you wonderful green eyes on this!" With a twirl, the sketchbook was flipped onto its back in his palms and Miss Pauling smiled. And then snorted in laughter.
It was her sitting on The Walrus in Scout's comic-book style. The lines were harsh and the shadows harsher but he managed to make it work with the softer moment he captured. As well as adding some humor in it. She was indeed riding The Walrus, an actual walrus wearing a top hat and a monocle. It also had its whiskers curled to look like a handlebar mustache and the little speak bubble above his head said "Cheerio!". Incredible.
"I love it."
After that, they went back to the blanket and Scout insisted that she open the presents. And he even reassured that he'd make sure that his fellow mercenaries are told that they still weren't together.
"Don't worry," he smirked, tossing the baseball he always brought back and forth as Miss Pauling grabbed her first gift, "I'll just tell them you told me that you let me down easy or some s**t and I'll just say I'll get you next time! Works every time!"
"Maybe," Miss Pauling sighed. She turned the small box around in her hands. It didn't feel too heavy and something was rattling within.
"Oh, forgot to mention, I kinda forgot which present was from who since I didn't write it down."
"You didn't even write it down on the wrapping paper?" The wrapping paper was a crummy job so obviously Scout wrapped them.
"Hey, I was busy keeping my fingers intact while working with that devil of a tape cutter Engie made!" Well that explained all his bandaids.
"Okay, let's see who this is from." Miss Pauling made quick work of the wrapping and revealed a small jewery box. Scout gasped.
"OH, wait, save that one for last. Maybe even wait till we're leaving." She cocked an eyebrow but did as was told. She snatched another box from the pile and got to work.
By the time she only had one more present left(not counting the small jewelry box), Miss Pauling had amassed quite the hoard of both worthless and priceless trinkets. There was a Scrabble game that looked to be handcarved from maple wood which Scout insisted was from Heavy, a coonskin cap that appeared to also be handmade(in the inside Miss Pauling could just make out the words Made From The Late Captain Gnawbones), a couple expensive looking bird calls all shaped like the respective bird to call, a slightly singed paper mache rose, a glasses cleaning kit with all the works(Scout and her had a bit of a fighting match over if it was from Medic or Engineer), an iron chain necklace with a jade dragon-thing as the centerpiece, the complete works of Jane Austen, and a deep violet cardigan with some perfume no doubt from Spy. She was tempted to try it on immediately, but Scout's jacket was just too warm and she was only human.
"Well, that's nine presents counting that little one so who's this one from?" She lifted the last box hidden at the bottom. It was the second heaviest, only beaten by the book collection sitting to her right. Scout only smirked that smirk of his that meant the rare phenomenon of him knowing more than her.
"Weeeelll, maybe it just fell outta the sky, maybe I got it for ya, who knows~" he sang, absolutely loving the smile Miss Pauling refused to form.
"I bet it did fall out of the sky," she said to spite him only to get a bigger smirk in return, "and I bet it's not even that-"
It was a smooth black case. Leather with steel casings and a coded latch. Engraved on the top was Mann Co. Customization Wing.
"The code's 1968." Scout read her mind. Of course the code was that. She'll have to change it to be stronger. Miss Pauling inputted the code and flicked the latch open with a click. And, with anticipation she barely held back, the assistant opened the gun case.
"Oh my…" She uttered as she ran her fingers across the glistening barrel. It was a Colt M1911 with the whitest metal she'd ever seen. Metal so clean she could see her reflection on its surface. That pale steel was counterbalanced by the beautiful mahogany grip and engraved along the slide were roses entwined with thorns and pansies.
"Designed by yours truly." Scout said with his chest puffed out in pride. "Well, I sent in the design and the guys at Mann Co. actually made it but my creative genius was still- oof!" his ramble was cut off by Miss Pauling launching herself at him and pulling him into the second tightest hug he'd ever been given by a girl.
"It'sthemostbeautifulweaponI'veevergotten!" Miss Pauling exclaimed, smiling wider than she had in years, "DoyouknowjusthowwonderfulusingaColt1911isIbetyoudon'tweneedtogetoashootingrangesothatIcantestthisgirloutRIGHTNOWyouwonderfulamazing-!" Didn't even stop for a breath before she grabbed Scout's shirt and yanked him into a kiss. He stiffened at the sudden contact but she already felt his lips, rough from constant biting, pull into a smile. His arms wrapped around and dragged her into the hug. They stayed like that for a moment longer before Miss Pauling had to pull away to actually breathe.
"Man, you really like that fricking thing, huh?" Miss Pauling gasped and playfully slapped Scout's chest while resting her other protectively over her gun case.
"She is not a thing!" Scout only snickered as Miss Pauling laid her head back down on his shoulder with a glare. After the presents had been packed away and Miss Pauling fended off a playful Scout wanting to make her wear Soldier's gift, they cleared the blanket off and silently agreed to spend the rest of their precious time like this. Scout laid to her left and she rested her head on his arm while he took her shoulder and rubbed small circles into it with his thumb.
"At least I know you're gonna take good care of it. Which you better, I spent my entire paycheck this month to get it!"
"Don't you send half of that to your mother? Won't she be mad?" Miss Pauling asked. She felt Scout's chest rise, followed by a small sigh.
"I mean, yeah, but she's kinda already set for life. Besides, she's not the only lady I gotta look out for in my life."
"Cheesy."
"Yeah…"
"You're lucky I don't mind cheesy coming from you." She shifted deeper into his side. Scout was a surprisingly warm fellow. Like he somehow absorbed all the sunrays he stood under while fighting and used it as an internal heat source to never get cold.
Another bout of silence where they simply stared up into the starry sky. Scout continued to rub circles into her shoulder which led to a string of soft kisses planted upon her temple and forehead before those took a pause to rub her shoulder again.
It never went any further than kisses, Miss Pauling made sure of that. Not that she was a complete prude but because she just couldn't risk what going further could possibly bring should any mistakes or accidents happen. It wasn't smart, she didn't have either the time or headspace necessary to raise a child. Scout probably wouldn't mind but she would. But he never complained. To her. Out loud. Yes, he would pout but it was always in jest. He was so patient for being the living embodiment of energy.
How in the world did he fall in love with someone like her? Someone who works 363 days a year? Someone who he shared little to no hobbies and interests in? Someone who was constantly bogged down in paperwork and shallow graves? Seriously, how?
"Scout," Miss Pauling said, voice barely over a whisper. Her companion didn't respond. She lightly jabbed his side earning something between a snore and a scream.
"'M awake!" He stated, blinking away the obvious sleepiness. Sure he was.
"How did…" How was she going to phrase this question without looking like she was fishing for compliments?
"What made you… what about me did you like so much that you… well, fell in love?" There was a better way to phrase it, she knew it, but it was late and Scout's little massage was doing something to her cognitive skills.
"Oh, that's easy!" He replied. Huh, really? "First of all, you're beautiful. Like, the most beautiful girl on the planet kinda beautiful! And you always have your glasses kinda crooked, have that cool ugly laugh that makes me wanna laugh too, and you don't tell me to shut up all the time, and ya have, like, a kinda secret identity where ya can't tell me your name probably for my own safety or something like that. You like creepy stories and actually liked those comics I gave ya and it's just," she felt him swallow, "when we're like this, alone, I don't gotta. Like, I don't gotta raise hell to be heard. Don't gotta raise my voice or nothing. And. And other guys don't do that. They don't wanna listen, they want to be listened to. Or they just pretend to listen until you leave them alone. Ya don't do that, ya actually talk back and make it like a game a tennis. Well, ya did and do and just…"
There was that deep rise in Scout's chest again that would be followed by a sigh. Only this one was silent. The only way Miss Pauling knew he did it was the slow drop. And it set a single alarm bell off.
She pushed her gun case aside, reached over his chest, and took his other hand.
"It's just," Scout started again, staring up at the sky with a conflicted expression, "it's hard, man. Like, I know we're a thing and that I'm just being… being stupid and crap but. I dunno. And it's been six months but we've only hung out like this four times. Five countin' this. And I know we can't actually show it around the base or anywhere not private but…
"I see you more times walking through the halls and hearing your voice giving contracts where we can't do anything and I get that but… but I want to. Cause when we're this," he gestured to everything, "I don't gotta worry that you ain't just doin' this outta pity or some s**t. Cause here we're a thing. But we ain't a thing nearly every-fricking-day and I just gotta pretend until I can figure out another big thing like today where I can… where I know ya still feel the same." Scout flopped his hand back down. Miss Pauling took it once more and gave it a squeeze. He gave a squeeze back.
"I feel like I gotta raise hell just like before except I can't raise hell because you're sweet and great and deserve the world. And somehow I gotta get the world over and over again so that you'll still want me along with it."
"...I know it's hard, I hate it too." Miss Pauling murmured, resting her head close to Scout's. "It's just, the sheer amount of work I need to do on a daily basis won't allow me much free time. And that free time is usually spent getting ready for another day just like the one before." She sighed and rubbed her eyes.
"But that doesn't mean I've stopped caring about us or these things you set up. Scout," Miss Pauling sat up and stared at her partner who sat up too, "at this point, I live for these moments. The rest of my life is spent digging graves, forging documents, sanding fingerprints, and making sure The Administrator gets the right kind of coffee at eight in the morning. It's repetitive and many times I have to fight for my life for something I don't even understand the importance of. At least when I follow you to some strange location I understand the risks and the importance of what I'm risking my future for!"
"...I did see that stack of folders on your table when I left the note." Scout admitted. "Is… is it always that bad?"
"At this point, yes. About three months ago my worked started to get backed up and since then I've had to spend my nights completing all the work I couldn't finish earlier that day or for some other stupid reason. Some days I'm able to finish and not have any backups but most I just want to pull my hair out!
"And then I'm worried that The Administrator will start spying on me to understand why my workflow isn't as good as it normally is and she'll find out we're romantically involved and that would put both me and you in danger which I can't allow to happen so I have to force myself to just work twice as hard which means I can't spare even seconds to talk to you and it's just-" She inhaled through her nose so hard that it hurt as she plucked off her glasses to press the palms of her hands on her closed eyes.
"Today was so bad that I mostly just came here out of spite." She admitted.
"How bad?"
"Got up around six, couldn't find my flats for so long that I was nearly late, skipped breakfast, barely got to work, had to immediately execute an orderly for threatening to leak company secrets, buried him around eight meaning I was late with The Administrator's coffee, and when I did get it the company barista had been fired meaning it was a new barista and she got Helen's order wrong but I didn't know that until I already gave it to her and she just gave me the worst look I've ever gotten.
"Had to get her a new one along with a "Do better" lecture, spent a good four hours cataloguing the newest ordered Mann Co. weapons until The Administrator ordered me to kill and bury three other orderlies who had annoyed her before three. Which meant I had to dig three graves and recover them all under three hours. I did it but my hands felt close to blistering because I forgot to bring that roll of grip tape you gave me and then I got two papercuts from the files I had to carry back and forth from two different wings of the building…" She sniffed.
"And The Administrator called me in again and I thought for sure it was about us but it wasn't and I was so nervous and tired and I just wanted a break but apparently I had to go have another meeting at Mann Co. to discuss ammo rates and costs and… and it was just…" She took a deep breath to calm herself down. It wasn't going to help anyone if she broke down crying just from thinking about the amount of stress she went through today. It wasn't even that bad, it was just a little less than average at this point. Clearly Scout didn't think the same though. Because he shuffled over and gave her a bone crushing hug. Well, it would have been bone crushing if he wasn't Scout.
"Holy crap, ya- ya don't deserve that, especially on your birthday! I'm so fricking sorry."
"It's fine," Miss Pauling mumbled into his shoulder, "besides, I shouldn't complain so much when you guys die literally every day. I can't imagine what it feels like."
"It's not fine! And we come back from it, death ain't permanent there! Sure, it hurts at first. And keeps hurting. But you get used to it."
"Like I've gotten used to working from dusk to dawn." She replied, hugging Scout back.
"You shouldn't have to be used to it though. You don't deserve getting used to getting used and pushed around like your life don't matter!"
"Neither do you." At that, Miss Pauling once again felt Scout's chest rise with a sigh he didn't release. Silence met her ears besides the distant howl from a coyote.
"Don't wantcha to be so fricking worried and tired all the time." The runner murmured. Miss Pauling only hummed. She felt him swallow and he started again.
"We can… aw crap. We can take a… take a. We can take a break because I don't want you to always be lookin' over your shoulder in case The Administrator's watchin' or just spending you life surrounded with stupid worthless papers while ya can't even take some time to live a little."
…
It made sense, as much as it hurt to admit.
"At least till ya catch up with everything." Miss Pauling pulled away and looked Scout in the eyes. Or, she tried to. His face was blurry so much she couldn't even make out his mouth. But then her pair of glasses were placed onto her nose and she saw his despondent but resolute face.
Even after what he had told her, the insecurity and doubt, and the need for companionship, Scout was willing to give that up just so that Miss Pauling's work life was easier.
"But what about you? You said it yourself, you hate long stretches." Scout shrugged, and gave a sad, forced grin.
"Hey, I've already waited this long. I'd wait till Earth itself collapses and even past that if I had to. Because you're worth waiting for." His smile grew to be genuine as Miss Pauling felt one of her own forming.
"Have you noticed you become more poetic the later in the day it gets?" He shrugged again. Miss Pauling sighed and fiddled with her bracelet.
"...Only till I'm all caught up, I promise."
They had packed up after that and not a word was spoken. Perhaps there should have been, but Miss Pauling didn't know what to say. She didn't know if Scout was in the same position but regardless he remained silent too. They had put all her presents into a fabric bag Scout brought and she placed it in her scooter's storage space. She gave him back his jacket and he slipped it on. It was hard to ignore the crumpled expression he had.
"Hey," she lightly touched his arm, "this is only temporary."
"I know, but it don't feel like it."
"It was your idea, Jeremy." She tried to lighten the mood but Scout barely met her eyes.
"I kinda wish it wasn't now." Another wave of silence before Scout made a noise and brought out the small jewelry box. Miss Pauling looked at it in surprise. She completely forgot about it.
"Should probably give you this now," Scout mumbled, voice tight, "since it'll be the last you're getting for a while." He opened the box and inside sat a simple green gem charm.
"It's a peridot, apparently there are things called "birthstones" or some crap and August's peridot and your birthday's in August so… yeah." He took the gem and, with some trouble, clipped the charm to Miss Pauling's bracelet.
It was so much more vibrant than her others, it was almost funny that it's memory was ending with a mood so grey. But she didn't want it to end so somber. Especially like this with Scout looking so heartbroken about his own train of thought. So she kissed him.
And instead of feeling his lips, coarse and frayed from bad habits, thin into a beaming smile, Scout kissed her back.
This is only temporary, is what she told herself as tears threatened to fall.