A/N: And I am back with a vengeance! Thank you to new readers who decided to click on this story, to the patient readers who migrated from NAA, hell to any reader at all - thank you for deciding to read this story. Let's begin!
~Chapter One~
The yellow smiley face printed onto the red box is insulting. Miss Pauling scowls at the box in her hands. Apparently it's supposed to be called a 'happy meal.'
When she ordered it at the register, the cashier gave her a funny look. He even asked if Miss Pauling wanted a toy with it! She doesn't go to fast food restaurants often, but Miss Pauling knew for certain McDonald's never had anything like a happy meal on its menu. Even though the scent of fried foods is intoxicating - the walls are practically drenched with it - Pauling already lost her appetite by the time she arrived at the table.
Scout greets her with a toothy smile, jittery and fidgeting like always. Pauling didn't even have the energy to return the smile, collapsing on the plastic seat. A sullen expression on her face, she pushes the insulting red box to Scout.
"You can have it. I don't want to eat anymore."
He looks at her, not taking it.
"M-miss Pauling! Ya need to eat to, ya know!" He reaches his hand to the back of his neck. "Who knows when we're gonna eat again, y'know? Uhmm..." Scout looks at Pauling, expecting an answer. She doesn't, her face stiff and stormy. Sheepishly, he drops his head a little. Pauling has been nothing but stressed lately - rightfully so. He opens the box and takes out its contents. Miss Pauling watches him out of the corner of her eye.
It was pathetic to call it a happy meal - the portions are small, only fit to feed a child. Not two war-hardened young adults.
Pauling gives a loud sigh, and rests her elbows on the table. She puts her hands to her face and closes her eyes. She and Scout can have a moment of peace in this strange McDonald's, even if it's only temporary. No murderous killing machines, no guns, no warfare. The sleepy and monotonous atmosphere was overbearing, though. The restaurant lies beside a highway. There were various characters populating the McDonald's.
Tired truckers worn down by the road, sitting alone at tables with only a cup of coffee. A couple of families, appeasing their children's nerves from long road trips with fattening fast food. Some hobos who clearly had no place in a public establishment, but even the employees were too tired themselves to ask them out.
Then there were the out of place customers - people dressed up in costumes for some reason. Pauling frowns to herself, side-eyeing the costumed people. A couple are dressed up like superheroes - Superman and Batman, easy to distinguish. Three of them are dressed in dark robes, holding wands for some reason. One is dressed in a white hat with little bunny ears, a blue outfit, a cartoonish green backpack, proudly wielding a styrofoam sword. For some reason that guy kept on repeating, "What time is it? ADVENTURE TIME!"
Pauling gives a stink-eye to the man in the white hat. Will he just stop shouting? Looking at their direction, Pauling sees the costumed Batman and Superman glance over to Pauling's table nodding and smiling. Pauling only gives them a weird look, and turns back to Scout.
"You've gotta eat Miss Pauling!" Scout urges, through a mouthful of french fries.
She sighs, not even bothering to look at Scout in the eyes. She stares outside of the window, stained by raindrops. Everything outside looks murky. It's already night time outside, only lamp posts, headlights, and the fluorescent lighting emitting from the McDonald's, illuminating the dark. It's still pouring out there.
Pauling shivers, remembering how wet she she got from the rain. She and Scout found themselves stranded at the edge of the highway. Luckily they found the McDonald's before getting drenched any further. They got away. But what about the others? They're still back there. Pauling squeezes her eyes, guilt bubbling in her chest.
She looks at Scout, her lips pursed.
"We're fired."
He stops chewing. He gulps, tugging his collar.
"Yeah. We are."
"But…" Pauling continues, staring at a box of chicken nuggets. They're so greasy. Should nuggets even be that shade of brown? She takes one anyway, biting into it. An overbearing salty and sour taste takes over her mouth. She makes a face, but swallows the damned thing anyway. "We...we can't work for him." Pauling bangs a fist on the table, chewing the last bite of nugget. "I can count on you, right Scout?"
"Y-yeah! No question, no doubt about it Miss P, one hundred percent -"
"Good. Because no doubt he's gonna figure out the mission and hunt us down no matter what."
"Oh. Yeah. Dat. Ya know what, let him at us! I can bash more robot brains thousand miles per second, no problemo -"
"Scout, keep your voice down."
They're both silent for another moment, consuming the rest of the meager food. It was a poor excuse of a meal. Even the package of sliced apples tasted manufactured and unnatural! Pauling runs her tongue over her teeth, wondering if she'll ever get the terrible sour taste out of her mouth.
Her mind is already racing, scrambling to pull a plan together. She and Scout couldn't stay at this McDonald's forever. They have to keep on moving...fulfill the mission and somehow find Australium. Without any leads. Or back-up. Or supplies. Okay, okay, you know, she can work with this! She...she just needs to think of something…
A bell hanging above the main entrance door, jingles. Pauling pays no mind to the chimes, too deep in thought. Scout hisses her name.
"Miss Pauling? Miss P!"
He taps her shoulder. She's jerked out of her thoughts, and shoots a quick glare at Scout. He cowers at her vicious look, tilting his cap to cover his eyes.
"What is it?"
"Over 'dere. Look." He points behind her shoulder.
Exasperated, Pauling looks behind and sees two people walking up to the counter.
"Scout," She begins to say, ready to scold him. Pauling trails off, the longer she looks at the new comers, the more she recognize them. One is tall and lanky, wearing a brown vest, trademark RED Mann Co. collared shirt, and Aussie hat. The other is wearing a RED Mann Co. jumpsuit along with a bullet proof vest. "Demo? Sniper?" She whispers, her mouth dropping open slightly.
Wasting no time, she gets up from her seat, going over to the RED team members. For the first time she arrived in this strange place with Scout, Pauling is smiling.
"Demo, Sniper!" She repeats, her voice louder this time. "God, you have no idea how much of a relief it is to see some familiar faces -" Her smile drops the moment they turn around. Scout joins her side. He begins greeting them, but he too stops when he sees them up close. Hope is crushed for Pauling.
They aren't her men. They were imposters.
The Sniper-imposter has a goatee tied into a little braid and dirty blonde hair unlike the real Sniper's brunette color. The Demoman-imposter wasn't even a male in the first place, but rather a female. She didn't have Demo's clean moustache and aftershave, obviously. And though she's wearing an eyepatch, she clearly didn't need it since it was adjusted to the side of her face. They both cast Pauling weird looks.
"Y-you're not Sniper! Or Demoman!" Scout cries out the obvious, looking rapidly back and forth between the look-alikes. "Why da heck are you dressed like 'dem?! Is 'dis supposed to be some friggin' prank?" Pauling nudges Scout sharply. If anything, she didn't want to cause a scene. It's already a bad sign to see these look-alikes running around - if these strangers know who the mercs were, the best course of action would just be to leave. Now.
The Sniper-imposter grins lopsidedly. He bobs his head, in a slow and steady pace. "Hey, hey there my man. A fellow Scout, hm? Man, you got everything down to a T!" He inspects Scout, judging him from each angle. "The dogtags, the cap, the accent, the everything! The stars are aligned with you my dude!"
God, he sounded like one of those hippies Soldier always ranted about. Pauling can suddenly understand Soldier's intense hatred for the group.
The imposter-Demoman wasn't as friendly as her partner. She glares at both Pauling and Scout.
"Ugh, don't tell me you're one of those try-hards! Look," Demo raises her hands defensively. "I know I'm not wearing the exact imitation of the Demoman's cosplay, but there's only so much DIY projects I could do on my own! We're just simple cosplayers, so you two can stuff it!"
Scout and Pauling share a look. What are they talking about? How does one of the imposters know Scout's name? Why do these look-alikes act like they knew Scout and Pauling?
Pauling steps in before Scout lets his mouth run on.
"No, no. My friend and I just wanted to...compliment you on your costumes."
"Oh." The she-Demo loses her aggression, and gives a proud little smirk. "You mean cosplay? Hey, I'm finally getting credit where it's due! I already got enough flack from the assholes back at NYC."
"Love thy neighbor as you would love thyself," Imposter-Sniper says with an air of sageness. The other three cast him odd looks. "Don't hate on the game." He flashes a double thumbs-up.
"Ignore him. DK says the weirdest shit like, all the time." Imposter-Demo rolls her eyes, dismissing her friend with a wave of her hand. "Guessing you two came back from the con as well? Your Pauling and Scout cosplays are amazing! You look like the real deal!" Pauling tenses up. Cosplay? How did the imposter know their names before they introduced themselves? Scout is looking at Pauling, wide eyed, for guidance. Pauling doesn't say anything to the imposter.
Imposter-Demo looks Pauling and Scout up and down, her smiling fading to shock. "You look terrible! Did you guys get into an accident or something?"
Pauling bites her bottom lip, suddenly conscious how unprofessional and messy she looked. Imposter-Demo was right. She and Scout were an absolute mess. Their clothes are covered in mud, dirt, and oil from the robots. Her stockings look worse for wear, torn all over the place. Some reveal day old cuts and wounds.
"Something like dat," Scout answers first. He's jiggling his right foot like crazy. Did he have to indicate how nervous he was? "Ya see, we were -"
"On our way back from the...con," Pauling hoped she said that word correctly, only mimicking what she heard from the Demo look-alike. "But our friends just ditched us, stranding us here." She grimaces, replicating hurt. "They were our ride back home! Do you think you two can give us a lift?" Pauling keeps her eyes trained on the imposters, hopeful.
Imposter-Demo frowns a little at Pauling, but then glances over to Imposter-Sniper for input. He merely smiles lazily, not much for advice. She-Demo sighs, only reminded how eccentric her friend is. Pauling gets that feeling a heck of a whole lot. With Soldier, Demoman, and Pyro back home...She takes a deep breath. She has to keep herself together. No use in getting emotional.
"I mean, sure. But me and my friends are heading back to Syracuse. Is that the same direction you two are going?"
"Yes, Syracuse!" Pauling repeats, a bit too eager. Where the hell Syracuse was, she had no idea. At least she and Scout won't be trapped in this fast-food purgatory any longer. "We'll pay for the gas!"
The costumed Demo nods, satisfied by this deal. "Okay. It's a done deal. Name's Danny, by the way. And this weird high-strung bozo right next to me is DK."
"Only one I know!" DK says, flashing finger-guns at Scout and Pauling.
"What sorta name is Danny for a girl?" Scout asks, rather rudely. Pauling makes her disapproval abundantly clear, and elbows him sharply. "Ow! What, I was just askin'!"
Danny squints, crossing her arms. "Danny. That's my name. No question. Your names?"
"Pauling. Thanks for the ride."
"Erm, Scout, the one and only, know what I'm sayin'?!" He puffs his chest, smiling widely at their new acquaintances.
DK only chuckles, swaying back and forth. "No need for charades, cuz only the truth will set you free, compradres."
At this point, the others only ignored DK's bizarre comments.
"Uhm guys, you can drop the character act or whatever. DK and I just told you our real names. There's no need to hide under fictional names!"
Pauling raises an eyebrow at Danny.
"Those are our names…?"
Danny side-eyes both of them, squinting her eyes. "Riiight...well, DK and I just need to pick up some food. We have a long trip ahead of us."
Pauling nods to show her understanding, and steps back with Scout. She glances over to her partner, slightly raising her eyebrows. Just go along with the plan. He jumps, surprised she's addressing him. "Uhm…?" Pauling resists the urge to facepalm, and raises her eyebrows higher, subtly flitting her eyes over to DK and Danny, then back to Scout.
"You...you want anotha' happy meal?"
Oh my god, of all people why am I stuck with Scout?
"Your name is Pauling? As in fictional character, Miss Pauling?" The woman in the orange jump suit asks her, arms crossed across her chest. Stitched on the right side of her shirt reads a logo, Aperture Labs. She's blocking the door to the car, sizing up Scout and Pauling . Pauling's glasses are already getting wet and fogged up from the rain. She grits her teeth, trying her best not to shoot a glare at the woman. At least her glasses are getting fogged up as well.
Character? What does she mean by 'character'? Pauling decides to feign ignorance, and gives a stiff nod. She offers a weak smile. The woman doesn't smile back, scrutinizing her.
"Let's be a good Samaritan, and do good as on to you~!" DK chants, bobbing his head to some unseen musical beat.
"C'mon Holly, they're gonna pay for the gas. They're fellow cosplayers, so I think it's all cool." Danny chimes in, doing her best to shield the McDonald's take out food from the downpour.
"How the heck do you know if they're not psychopaths?! Or con artists for all we know!" The woman, Holly argues.
Danny grunts, exasperated and looks over to the odd duo. "Are you two psychopaths and/or con-artists?" She asks half-seriously, indulging in her friend's suspicions.
On beat, Scout and Pauling shake their heads.
"That serves my point. Holly, we're freezing our asses out here, let's just go!"
Holly takes off her glasses, wiping her face. She looks at the odd pair for one last time.
"Just get in the car," She sighs finally.
A woman is standing outside of a building, smoking a cigarette. A phone is next to her ear. Her face is the picture of seriousness. She's deeply absorbed to whoever she's talking to on the phone.
"You're gonna tell me three things, Thomas," She says, in a low and hushed tone. Her jaw is clenched and she's clutching her cigarette tightly. "Or it's gonna end with your goddamned nose smashed against the curb. So. You won't fucking. Hang. Up on me. Without negotiations." Her gray eyes are bright and pulsing with unchanneled anger.
Her phone rings.
'Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down~'
Clicking a button, the woman's face instantly shifts from deadly to flustered. "Holly!" She gasps, putting a hand on her hip. "Dude, you ruined the mood!"
"Hi to you too, Nic. Anyway, I'm heading home with Danny and DK. Plus some...guests."
"When are you gonna be home? The party's gonna be in three hours! Also, did you get me a happy meal?"
"The food's going to be cold by the time I get there. It would've been pointless. We're still, like…" There's some shuffling. "...two hours away from the city. We'll make it in time for the party, so no worries."
"Good, you won't be late. But I didn't get my happy meal!" Nicole complains.
"Ugh. Okay fine, tell you what, I'll buy the dang happy meal when I'm actually back in Syracuse. Ask Allan what she wants, too. Also, make sure she's put to bed before the party, she has school tomorrow."
"Sis, you can be such a hardass sometimes y'know? Let the kid skip school!"
"And you can be so irresponsible, you know that?" Holly shoots back. Nicole can practically hear her sister rolling her eyes over the phone. "We can't afford Allan to skip again, her attendance records are a wreck as it is...And! It's your turn to bring Allan tomorrow!"
"Ohhh…" Nicole shifts, and starts to fiddle with her engagement necklace. It's a simple golden band, decorated with a single golden and tinted pink metal rose. The band is strung on a silver chain. "Hehe, about that…"
Holly groans loudly from the other side. In the background, DK can be heard singing 'Don't Worry, Be Happy'. Nicole would've laughed at his typical shenangains, if Holly didn't sound like she was about to throttle her own sister.
"Let me guess, you have some other last minute excuse."
"Don't blame me!" Nicole jumps to defense. "The schedule for the audition changed for tomorrow, but they only called me today to tell me, at like the last minute!"
"I get it, I get it." Holly interrupts before Nicole goes on a ramble. "Look, just put Allan to bed, that's the least you can do."
The weariness and iritated tone is apparent in her sister's voice. Nicole reminds herself not to apologize profusely. Holly despised when people did that for some reason. She smiles, relieved, even though Holly can't see it.
"Hey sister-sister, will do. And thanks."
"Whatever. See you."
Nicole hangs up, and slides the phone into her pocket. She stomps out her cigarette and breathes out smoke. Here comes task number two. Putting the little rascal to bed...a shame too, the kid was excited to stay up late. Nicole half-jogs upstairs. She shakes her head at the month-old Halloween decorations still present in the hallways. The neighbors kept on forgetting to take them down! It's so irking!
She shakes her head, and speed walks toward the door all the way down the hall. It's marked with a wreath of plastic red and orange leaves. Gonna have to get ready for the holiday spirit! Nicole notes to herself, and opens the door.
In the living room, Esmeralda, a girl with unruly and curly black hair, sits in front of a TV with Allan. It looks like they're watching another re-run of Lion King. Party decorations were finished by the duo. Christmas lights line up the walls. Colorful streamers are taped to the ceiling. The fold up table is set up, the party snacks in their respective bowls.
"Aaron called?"
Esmeralda looks over her shoulder, giving a wink and thumbs-up. "For sure! He'll be here, like, thirty minutes before the party!"
Nicole puts her hands on her hips. "Is it taking that long for the guy to get here?"
Her friend shrugs. "What can you say, he's lugging a pretty heavy replica around. Also, I think a little somebody here's tired!" Esmeralda sing-songs, flicking Allan's baseball cap off her head.
Allan murmurs something at first. Then, she jerks awake. She sits up sharply.
"No! Awake! I'm awake!" Allan says, slurred. She rubs her eyes and lets ot a huge yawn. The little girl finds her hat, and puts it back on her head, backwards. Her eyes are half-lidded and bleary from sleep.
Nicole smiles, raising a slight eyebrow. "Yeah...you're gonna need to recharge for the night, Birdie."
This time, Allan really is awake. She gets on her knees, facing Nicole. "Ewww, mom, don't call me that! It's a stupid name!"
"It is." Esmeralda agrees.
Nicole puts a hand to her heart, offended. "Okay, wow, I'm feeling attacked." She lightly laughs, walking over to the couch, and scoops up Allan. Allan squirms, weakly, against her mother's embrace. "It's off to bed, you dizzy dreamer."
"Noooo…" Allan pouts, staring accusingly up at Nicole. Crap! The kid has to pull the pity card! "I wanna stay up...till' everybody else gets here. Aaron's gonna bring that cool machine, right! I wanna see it, please please please!"
Nicole pretends to think about it.
"Hmmm...well, I don't want little Birdie to complain when she has to wake up for school. Don't give your aunt a hard time, hear me?"
"I promise, I promise!" Allan chants, bobbing her head vigorously. Her dog tag chain necklace swings back and forth with the jerky movements. The kid really makes a good Scout cosplayer. Nicole thinks with pride, swiping the hat off Allan's head and ruffling her short hair. I'll let the kid live a little. Holly won't be THAT mad!
"Alrighty, it's a deal." Nicole plops her daughter back on the couch.
Esmeralda clicks her teeth loudly. "Such a lax authority figure!" She teases, wiggling her eyebrows obnoxiously.
"Shut your face, I'm the best. Anyway, kid, whaddya want from McDonald's?"
Spy barrel rolls from the barricade to a turned over table. Bullets whiz past him. The air is thick with smoke, burnt oil, and...burnt money. He shudders, imagining how much money is being wasted on Gray Mann's robots. The man maybe a genius, but he certainly was a fool for creating machines that run on money of all things!
His teammates shout their battle cries and orders at each other. They gun down any robot that approaches without batting an eye. So far, they were doing a pretty damn good job defending the base. But waves of robots just keep on coming and coming…
"We're running out o' ammo!" Hollers Demoman over gun fire. He takes one of his bottles of Scrumpy, shoves a rag into it, and lights it with a lighter. He chucks the improvised weapon over the barricade. Robots explode into useless junk and a confetti of bills.
"Medic! Medic!" Soldier screeches, running mindlessly back and forth on the battlefield, punching and pummeling any robot on sight to death.
"Ja, ja, if only you vould stay still!" Medic responds sharply, his usually cheerful disposition completely evaporated from the stressf as the field doctor. How Medic doesn't shove a bonesaw up his teammate's arses, Spy doesn't know. Then again, the stress from the battlefield explains quite a lot of his erratic behavior, now that Spy thinks about it…
Heavy of course, stays close to the Medic's side, gunning down any robot that dares approach either of them.
"Howssss it goin' lozzzer?!" A robotic and metal voice asks from above Spy. He rolls backwards, fumbling for his gun. Before the Robot Scout can attack Spy, a bullet from way above is lodged into its metal face. The blue light in its eyes flickers, and Robot Scout falls slack to the ground, now a useless pile of metal. Spy swipes the money spilled on the ground from the robot's remains.
The espionage glances over to the direction where the gunshot came from.
The bushman is perched in one of his sniping posts, as per usual. Spy scowls up at Sniper.
"I could 'ave handled it myself."
"Like bloody hell you could!" The Aussie shouts back.
Spy scoffs, turning away. Well, he'll give the uncivilized man some credit. If he didn't act sooner, the cursed robot would have wounded Spy. Pyro's muffled laughs can be heard over all of the chaos, as it burns down the robots with an eerie glee.
Nearly the entire RED team is in action, except for Miss Pauling, Engineer, and Scout…
"Where zhe hell ees zat idiot boy?" Spy mutters under his breath, shooting down some approaching Robot Soldiers. He peers over his barricade, over to the Pyro. It being the closest team member to Spy, he calls out, "'Ave you seen Scout?"
"Mmgh Prrrgh, umhp thrrr!" The firebug wildy gesticulates, pointing beyond Spy's head.
Spy looks over to where Pyro was pointing. The RED base. That's where Engineer and Pauling disappeared to before the enemy stormed their territory. Pauling promised the preparations were being made for the mission to initiate...but she hasn't come back for fifteen minutes. Spy taps his watch impatiently. There weren't any calls from her.
He presses a button, calling Pauling's number.
"Pauling?" Spy yells over another explosion and Soldier's enthusiastic battle cries. "Pauling, come in! Status report!"
There is static at first. Finally a faint voice can be heard through the electric mess.
"...gineer here…"
He can recognize that Southern drawl anywhere. "Engineer! Ees zat you, over?"
"...Eng...reporti...mission's ready...over."
Spy adjusts his tie, brushing some dirt off his suit. "Oui. I read you, over." He lifts his finger from the watch. "Heavy!" Spy shouts, daring to move from the safety of cover. "Zhe preparations 'ave been made! We must move!"
"Not without doktor!" Heavy rumbles, quickly smashing a Robot Scout's head before it assaulted Medic. Medic in turn, ducks under Heavy's arm to stab a Robot Sniper before it could shoot down the huge man.
"Nein! Herr Heavy, I can assure you, zhe rest of us can handle zhese creatures! Now go!" Medic easily dismisses his comrade. Before Heavy could argue, Medic runs after Demo into a crowd of more robots.
"He can 'andle himself!" Spy says, reloading his weapon. Heavy trudges over to his team member, his expression still very much worried. Spy squeezes the Heavy's meaty shoulder, for some form of reassurance. "We must go to Pauling." Mentally and physically preparing himself, Spy begins to run uphill, his pistol close to his side. Heavy stomps behind.
Pauling better 'ave a good damn explanation by the time we arrive. Spy thinks, irritated. Damn robot invasion is getting on his nerves. Hopefully Pauling's secret plan was going to end this chaos, once and for all.
A/N: I hope this is a strong first chapter to the reboot of NAA. Also, did you guys get the butt load of references I shoved in your face! Can you name them? Also, feedback is much appreciated! ^_^ Thank you, and I'll see y'all in the next chapter!