Title: Silly Love Songs
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Scout gets a phone call, rashly misunderstands the meaning, and runs right into another mess of his own making. The only difference is that this time, he actually gets what he wants.
Author's note: This was supposed to be part of a RP log, then it promptly decided to be fic instead. The Scout hair reference comes from a comic I really enjoyed that I am trying to credit but cannot find for the life of me. My TF2 picture folders are so fulllll.

This is set early canon, a bit after Meet The Director.


After going for a run and taking a quick shower, Scout came out half-dressed into the common room, with a still-damp towel over his shoulders. He glanced towards the answering machine, to see a flashing red number. For a split second he just stared, then he took off at a run and leapt over the couch, losing the towel somewhere in the progress.

He'd sent in that personal ages ago—because hell, it couldn't hurt—and he hadn't gotten a single call. He figured there had to be a phone issue, because why the hell else wouldn't any girl with good sense be jumping on the chance to sink their teeth into a fine piece of man like himself?

Nobody, that's who.

He pushed down the button and heard a familiar voice. He wasn't winded from the run, but he still fought for breath. The anticipation was killing him as he heard the rustle of papers, the clearing of a throat on the line.

I'm sure I'm going to regret this, but, about what was posted earlier—

Scout didn't even wait for the message to end before he started on a dead run outside. He looked around, searching for a glimpse of purple. He didn't have his shoes on, and that was the only thing which stopped him from running at a breakneck speed to...where?

Where would she be this time of night? Probably her office, considering that everyone was off duty now. He pulled on his shoes without even bothering to find a clean pair of socks, or any socks at all. No Shirt, no problem!

Scout took several deep breaths. "All right, Scout. You gotta bring your A-game here. If you choke here, she might never let you in again."

He tried to clear his mind as he stretched, but it only got filled with her instead.

A light drizzle had started while he was in the shower, but Scout barely noticed the chilly drops as he took off on a run. Windows and streetlights were the only light through the dark, and his shoes sunk into the mud, splashing grime all over his clean pants.

Miss Pauling's apartment was in this middle ground, between RED and BLU bases, but set a bit aside from the other staff rooms, because it was larger.

Scout flung the door open. He stood in the doorway.

"I got your message."

She'd been on the phone, but for a few seconds, she simply started at him, startled and her usually rock solid composure completely shook.

"I'm sorry, one of the mercenaries showed up. I'll get back to you in a moment."

She put the phone down on its base. She was forming words, but Scout didn't wait that long. He'd been barreling towards this moment for so long that he was soaring on pure momentum. When she rose, Scout pulled her close enough to kiss her.

The desk was covered in papers and a typewriter, and the edges were really not comfortable against his thighs. Even worse, it was blocking him from her, keeping Scout from feeling those soft curves against his chest. But man, it was so warm, so soft and amazing. A tingle started from his lips outward, and incredible thrill as she kissed him back. He could get used to this, really, but one thing he couldn't get used to was the damn desk.

He broke away for a second, and she seemed to reel, still stunned by his charm. Scout vaulted over the desk, scattering papers in his wake, and this time pulled her closer. Her mouth was slightly open in a gasp, and he used that chance to slip his tongue into her mouth.

She returned the kiss with a whole lot of eagerness, pulling him down to her level, taking control that he was glad to give. So sure, he'd stolen some kisses and gotten his face smacked a couple times back in school, but it never felt like this. He could hear the faint patter of the rain on the window, but it was distant, everything was distant from her. Her breasts were so cushy against him, small and pert with the nipples hardening. Nipples, holy shit, nipples! It honestly just made his mind blip. He pushed his hands up her back, bunching up that short purple dress which had been the subject of so many of his fantasies.

He felt her running her fingers over his chest. Oh yeah, he knew she'd enjoy some of this. He was enjoying it too, feeling so high and breathless. She pushed against him, and he knocked into something—and there was a crash. She cringed, and looked away, breaking the kiss, much to his disappointment.

More papers all over the place, oh jeez. He was a dead man.

"Ahem," she said. "That was...what on earth do you think you're doing?" She tried to sound stern, but there was still something soft around the edges.

"You kissed me back," Scout said. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"You surprised me," she said.

"You ain't slappin' me," Scout pointed out.

She ignored that, and tried to fix her clothes from where he bunched them up.

"...Why are you shirtless again?" Miss Pauling said. Her cheeks were still red. It was really cute, actually.

"Just got out of the shower," Scout said. "Why, do I need a reason to be shirtless?"

"Ah, that'd explain why you're all wet," she said. She frowned down at the damp spots over her dress.

"Nah, that's because it's rainin'. But I got your call and came right away. I knew you'd come around, that ad was pure gold, eh?" Scout said.

"Ad? I think wires got crossed somehow. I called you here to discuss your contract. It's renewal day."

"But you said about that post? The one I made?" Scout persisted.

"The post, the one on the main bulletin board. What are you referring to?" She said.

"The personal! The one I posted that magazine-ma-jiggie-thing!"

"Personal?" Miss Pauling averted her gaze. "I wouldn't know anything about a personal."

"I know I've got it somewhere," Scout said. He looked up at the desk, which was a whole lot messier than when he came in here. If Miss P killed him for messing up his files, he would at least die happy having gotten not one, but two kisses from her.

One of the papers on the floor caught his attention. Wasn't that the wizard guy?

"Hey, this is the issue—"

"—don't touch that!"

But he was already flipping through to find the page. Scout scanned down to one he hadn't really noticed before, because he'd been in too much of a hurry, and he hadn't paid attention to the rest of the personals, given he wasn't a reader, and had assumed they were all way less handsome guys, anyways.

"Wait, you—"

Miss Pauling cleared her throat. "Yes."

"—And I—"

"Yes," she said.

He grabbed one of the pens from her desk and connected the two personals with a heart about them, and a double line.

"This is destiny! Look, we're meant to be, and this proves it more than anythin' I've ever seen!"

Instead of her usual irritation, eye rolling and ignoring him, Miss Pauling covered her mouth with her small, delicate hand. She tried to cover it with a cough, but Scout could tell she was laughing at him.

"I'm not jokin'!" Scout burst out. "This is real!"

"No, it's not that. Honestly... you look like some hero off of a romance novel, with your shirt off and your hair all messy and charging in here," she said. She trailed off. The kiss must've really shaken her. It'd shaken him, too.

"Didn't take you for someone who read those kinds of books," Scout said.

"O-oh, I wouldn't know anything about them. I just saw someone else read them once," Miss Pauling said.

She usually could put up a good front, but apparently he had shaken her composure enough that she hadn't fully regained it. Scout thought for a moment. Miss Pauling was always multi-tasking, but he couldn't see her working while she ate, because then she might get some food on the papers, and that wouldn't do.

That meant...

He wrenched open a desk drawer. Just papers and pens.

"Scout, get out of there!" She reached, but he was too quick as he pulled up another one. Just peeking out from the papers he saw the spine of a well-thumbed romance novel.

"Aha! I knew it!"

Scout grabbed up the novel and lifted it above where she could get to it. She kept reaching, but Scout was way better at dodging than her, and he easily evaded her grasp.

"Take me, Reynaldo. Teach me passion, and take me now before I burst," Scout read. He gave it an exaggerated breathiness, and even made a joking swooning motion.

Miss Pauling kept trying to reach for it, but she was too tiny, and he kept it just out of reach. It was cute, actually. Making her reach, sort of like the crap the boys used to play back in middle school. Stealing hats and pulling pigtails and all.

"'I love you, Paulina. You are my sun, my moon, you light up my life. I cannot imagine a world without you in it'—Jeez, who writes this crap?"

She tackled him, knocking them both to the ground in the process. They fell together, his body cushioning her fall. For a moment, the breath was knocked out of him, and he couldn't tell if it was because of the fall or because she was there on top of him, looking cute as can be with a her cheeks all flushed red. Was anything hotter than her cute little body on top of him? Because if it was, then he hadn't found it yet.

"You shouldn't have done that," she said.

"Story of my life," Scout said. He shrugged. It was way different shrugging at this angle. He'd never really done it before. The fall had knocked his cap off, and done some serious damage to her bun.

"Really, your hair is a mess," she said, but her voice was different. It sounded almost...fond?

"Oh, that? Haha, Soldier cut it! He punched me out and kidnapped me and everythin', then he gave me a sensible haircut. I've kept it ever since. I usually oil it down to make it extra manly, but I didn't have time."

"Your hair..." He reached out and pulled out her clip, letting her black hair spill over her shoulders.

She sighed. "You shouldn't have done that, either."

The paperback had fallen under her desk. She rolled off him, much to his disappointment, and put it back in her desk.

"Why you read those, anyways?" Scout asked.

"When I was younger, my family would go out on trips to this cabin we had. I wasn't very outdoors oriented, and there were no children my age, so I read. I ran out of books of my own pretty fast, so I ended up working my way through my aunt's romance novel collection. Besides, I was at that young precocious age where things of an, ah, intimate nature become very fascinating, and these books were the first thing I found that portrayed that. Not that I owe you any explanation, mind you," she said.

Scout nodded. "Ah, I get it, I get it. You need to get laid, so you read books to help deal with it. You're lonely," Scout said.

"I never said that!" Her cheeks flared even hotter. "I prefer to phrase it that I am enjoying them through lenses of nostalgia and for ironic value. I'm not vicariously living through someone else's fictional life...much, anyways."

"It's not like you have to, anyways. You're pretty, you're smart. You could have your pick all of the boys—namely myself—Why don't you date me, anyways? If you hated me, you'd just kill me and bury me somewhere. I accidentally messed up your office, and you didn't even kick me in the groin, you gotta like me more than that," Scout said.

"And get blood all over my office? Hardly," she said. She smoothed her skirt down primly, and kept her gaze down. It wasn't hiding how she was still flustered, even if her pretty dark hair had fallen into her face.

"You don't hate me half as much as you say, do you?"

"I never said I hated you," she said.

"In fact, the way you're actin', I might even think you like me," Scout said, a little too smugly.

"It'd be a bad idea. If we break up, it could be quite awkward and damage my career. The sort of passions where people give up everything for each other only belong in books."

Scout pushed her hair out of her face. "So? The bad ideas are the most fun. C'mon, Paulina. Come take a wild ride with me."

Miss Pauling looked up sharply. "And be just another one of your girls? Another notch on your belt? I think not," she said. She tried to pin her hair up, but he still held her clip.

She rolled her eyes, and held out her hand for the clip. "Give it back. Now."

"Nah, I think I'm keepin' this as a memento. Besides, you look really good with your hair down. It didn't know it was that long."

"Honestly, Scout—"

"Wait, wait wait, lemme talk here. I'm layin' it all down, Miss P. Here's the deal. I give them all up, and you go out with me. I can't tell you romantic crap like that with the moon and the stars and all that jazz, but I'll go shirtless and kiss you in all the wrong places and at all the wrong times. You'll never have to spend your lunch hour holed away and readin' about other people's love lives again, and you won't have to spend your nights alone, sendin' out personals in hopes some dream guy comes to sweep you off your feet because he's already here."

"I don't want to be swept off my feet. I want a sensible man who I can share my work with," Miss Pauling replied. "Something quiet. Nothing messy or complicated."

"Bullshit. Sensible is for haircuts. If you didn't want something big and romantic, then you would've kicked me out right away. But you haven't. If you wanted something sensible, then why are you hidin' away your novels like some kind of junkie lookin' for a fix?"

"I'd hardly call it that—" She protested.

He pushed himself up. "C'mon, c'mon with me. I'll show you somethin'."

Scout held out his hand. With some reluctance, she took it, and he pulled her outside.

"Eeeh—It's raining and cold," she said.

"Bet you didn't know I can dance," Scout said. He wrapped his arm about her waist and spun and dipped her. She was trying to fight it, to keep her composure, but he could see the smile breaking through. Damn, it was a gorgeous thing to see. Like that first hint of spring after a cold winter that'd been hanging around for months.

"Ever danced in the rain before?" Scout said.

"No, I don't find getting a cold enjoyable," she replied.

"Oh, come on, Miss Priss. You need someone to mess up your hair sometimes. Just one of the many services I offer."

"You're just so..."

"Handsome? Incredible? Wonderful?" Scout prompted.

"Stupidly romantic. Emphasis on stupid," she said.

"Yeah," Scout said. He laughed, just because he could, because his chest felt so light and he felt so happy. He'd never felt like a girl like this before. Sure he felt stupid around them, like his dick had taken the wheel and his brain was napping in the backseat, but yeah, this was different.

"Bet if I take my pickup schemes into makin' you happy schemes, I could blow your little books out of the frickin' water."

"Oh, really?" she said. She bit her cute little lower lip. It made him just want to pull her close and kiss her all over again.

"Don't you ever get worried at all about consequences?"

"Nah, I rush in like a jackass and make a mess of things. You're the one who's the worrier. That's why we're a perfect match. You do all the worryin' and plannin', and I'll be the dreamer. I'll make you smile. Babe, I'm bettin' it all on us. I'm willin' to give you all I've got."

She shook her head. "Just look at you, barging into here and making a mess, a stupid, romantic mess of things. You dragged me out to dance in the rain on a whim. How am I supposed to say no to that?"

"You're not," Scout said.

She sighed and shook her head. "Against my better judgment...yes."

Scout broke from her a moment and hopped right up on the base of the street lamp.

"What are you doing?" She said, but she was laughing all the while. Her dark hair was plastered to her face, her short little mini-dress stuck fast to her skin, leaving very little to his imagination. Also, the cold did interesting things to her chest. Namely, holy crap, nipples!

"This is so foolish," she said.

"I know, ain't it great?" Scout said.

He took her hand and gently nudged her towards the street lamp. Shaking her head, she climbed up on it with him.

"I'm never goin' to let you have a borin' day for the rest of your life," Scout said.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she replied.

But when they hopped down and he spun her again, so fast that her wet hair touched his face, he heard the sweet sound of her laughter again. And he thought maybe it was the same, she was laughing just to laugh, because that happiness had spread itself out between them and warmed them both through and through until anything, anything seemed possible.