Loved reading the guesses and reviews for the last chapter! All will (possibly) be revealed soon...
:::
Spy pressed his lips against the lit cigarette, resisting the urge to flip the Shogi board. He hadn't actually expected Heavy to catch on so quick to the game, let alone actually prove to be a challenge. The Frenchman himself wasn't the best at it, but to loved to an opponent he just finished teaching less than an hour ago? Preposterous.
"Is Spy going to move?" Heavy asked, sitting completely unassuming on the other side of the table. The large man had been patiently waiting for nearly ten minutes in the quiet reading room for the other mercenary to make his move.
"In a second," bit out Spy, one hand removing the cigarette from his mouth. The red Japanese calligraphy on several of Heavy's board pieces taunted him. The Frenchman felt like hitting himself. Perhaps it was a bad idea to teach Heavy all of the tricks and subtleties of the foreign game.
He stared at his king less than four squares from Heavy's promoted silver. Definitely a bad idea.
"Well looky what we have here."
For once in his life, Spy actually found himself grateful for Scout's interruption. The American swaggered into the small room with a grinning Demo in tow.
"Sorry to interrupt yer game, laddies. But we have an, eh, important matter to discuss," explained Demoman, peering at the Shogi board between the two mercenaries with a raised brow at the incomprehensible characters. Spy leaned back in his cushioned chair, waving his hand and feigning dismissal.
"What do you two want today? Heavy and I are actually putting our ceasefire day to good use," he said, inwardly hoping one of the two was clumsy enough to push the board over the table and scatter the pieces.
"Da, Spy showed me how to play Sho-jee." Heavy held up one of Spy's captured pieces with a small quirk of his lips.
"Sho-gee," corrected Spy, sinking into his chair.
"Yeah, whatever," mumbled Scout, reaching into his trouser's pocket. "How about you explain THIS, Spy!"
The youngest mercenary held out the pink bra in front of Spy's unmoved face.
"Is that blood?" Spy calmly pointed to the red stain on one of the dangling straps.
"Yeah, it's mine, but that's not really important," brushed off Demo, leaning over to clap Spy on the shoulder, earning a frown from the Frenchman. "Now tell us which lucky lass you brought over for the night?"
Spy blinked, glancing at Demo's wide grin, and then Scout's shit-eating smirk. Then, his frown slowly eased, and he started to laugh.
"You think I brought some woman over and she left her lingerie?" Spy continued to laugh at the seeming absurdity of such an accusation, a few snorts slipping between the excited chuckles.
"Why does Scout have lady's underthings?"
"Cause," started Scout, glancing over at Heavy's questioning look, "I found it when I was doing my laundry. In the dryer."
Heavy looked over to Spy who was finally starting to get his laughter under control.
"It belongs to a friend of Spy's?"
"You bet your fat ass it does," Scout said, no longer smiling as the Frenchman seemed to have turned his theory into a joke.
"Oh, please," breathed out Spy, a gloved finger wiping at the corner of his right eye. "What kind of man do you think I am? And any woman I am with would never wear such a tacky piece."
"C'mon, Spy, you're the only one who would pull something like this. Ya know, aside from Demo..."
"Yeah, lad. If it wasn't you who brought a girl over, and I don't think it was me, then how can you explain this bloody bra?" The Scotsman gestured to the offending article of clothing. Spy pressed his lips together, trying to withhold another bout of giggling. The men on his team were truly clueless.
"Perhaps," started Spy, blue eyes glinting, "It belongs to someone on the team."
Scout snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up. "Soldier! We haven't even seen him around today, and a guy like him, I wouldn't be surprised he be into wearing chick's stuff."
Spy let out another burst of laughter.
"It is too small to fit Soldier," Heavy commented over Spy's snorts. Demo nodded, placing two fingers under his chin as he stared at the bra.
"Heavy's right...we're looking at a more slender figure...more like..." slowly, Demo's one eye moved from the bra to Scout's contemplative face.
"You!" The Scotsman pointed at Scout, causing the American to let out a yelp and step back.
"What? Are you crazy, Cyclops? Why would I wear chick's clothing?"
"Why wouldn't you?" Demoman squinted, leaning closer to Scout's face. Heavy raised a brow, leaning back into his seat. Spy was still laughing, and had seemed to have fallen onto the floor, clutching his stomach.
Scout puffed up his chest, leaning forward to meet Demo's suspicious look.
"Why would I show everyone this if it was mine? How does that make sense?"
The alcoholic demolitions expert continued to give Scout the wary squint but stepped back and straightened up.
"True...eh, yer an odd one, lad, but not the cross-dressin' type I figure," shrugged Demoman. Scout scowled, crossing his arms.
"Odd? And of course it ain't me! Here's an idea, why don't we-"
"Can everyone please report to the main hall for monthly report and deliveries?"
Scout blinked at the feminine voice coming through the loudspeaker, then shared a look of realization with Demo. Of course. How could he have been so blind!
:::
Miss Pauling sighed, clicking the mic for the base's speakers back onto its hook. If she was lucky, this monthly report could go rather quickly. Helen always insisted on her hand delivering the mercenaries their performance summaries and details, perhaps to take the brunt of any complaints. The assistant pressed her lips at her stomach's growling. She would just have to put down her foot and if necessary, shoulder her way out of base after emptying her binder and delivering the crate by the door. The sooner she got back on the road, the sooner she could make it to the swanky diner she passed on her way, and actually enjoy a full hour of lunch before moving on to her next assignment.
"Miss Pauling, Miss Pauling!"
The Mann Co employee bowed her head, feeling an immense sense of dread at Scout's frantic cries. It better not be another bread monster. The youngest merc came running into the room, Demoman at his heel. Miss Pauling withheld another sigh and gave the two men a tight smile.
"Hey guys. Just reports and a drop off today. Nothing special," she explained, ignoring Scout's eager twitching as she reached into her red binder for their file folders.
"Miss Pauling, you will not believe what we found today!" Scout blurted out, a grin so wide it highlighted his abnormally large two incisors. Likewise Demoman looked happier than usual, and not in his usual "drunk, but not too drunk" way. Behind him, Miss Pauling saw Heavy amble in followed closely by Spy. The former gave a curt nod and the latter smirking with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.
"Ay, lass. It's goin'ta right be a surprise so ye might wanna sit down."
Miss Pauling raised an eyebrow at Demo's words.
"Oh, boy." Engineer and Sniper were next to make it to the main hall, joining the rest of their team in a semi half circle around the petite woman in purple. "You boys best not be tellin' Miss Pauling anything indecent..."
Engineer trailed off, and a faint hint of blush surfaced across his face. Miss Pauling raised her eyebrow higher, if possible. She had never seen the Texan blush, or even seem as wavering as he did when admonishing Scout.
"Engineer knows about bra too, da?" Heavy mused, glancing at the shorter man.
"Bra?" Miss Pauling blinked. This better not be going anywhere weird - she did not have time for weird. Scout, realizing that he couldn't keep his newfound discovery secret for much longer, casually strolled up to Miss Pauling's side, leaning close with a slight leer.
"Yeaaaah. Say Miss Pauling, you've been to this base before, right?"
The short woman frowned and pressed two fingers to Scout's forehead to push his face back farther from hers.
"Yes?"
"And sometimes when we're not here?" Scout pressed, eyebrows bouncing up and down.
"Just with a crew to make any repairs and adjustments," stated Miss Pauling, giving Scout her best "I don't really have time for this" face.
"Well, then maybe you can explain-"
"I'm here for my report!" Everyone's eyes snapped over to see Soldier stomp into the room, rubbing his palms together with a wide grin. It seemed like everyone in the group was having a rather good day, Miss Pauling idly thought.
"Fantastic performance this month as usual, I'd say," the American stated, shoving Scout out of the way to stick his hand in Miss Pauling's face. The woman didn't bother responding to his claim, as he said nearly the same thing every monthly report date. Instead, she reached into the binder and handed him his folder. Usually he gave her the most issues during monthly report, with a contemptuous amount of questions that she would consider purposefully irritating if it were not Soldier.
"Uhm, excuse me," snapped Scout, stepping up to Soldier's side with a glare. "I was tryna have a dramatic moment here."
Soldier ignored him, thumbing through his folder, grin growing wider as he scanned the contents of his performance on the field that month. Scout stepped around the older man and placed a hand on Miss Pauling's back to lead her back into the mercenaries' focus.
"Scout, just drop it," pressed Engineer, still blushing. "If I could just have my report, that'd be great."
"While I'm sure you have fascinating news to share, Engineer's right, Scout. I'm here for reports and deliveries, not your little discoveries about life," said Miss Pauling, handing Engineer his own folder and proceeding down the line to the rest of the men.
"But, but Miss Pauling! How ya gonna explain-"
"Mmph Mpphlinhg!" Pyro skipped into the room with Medic right at his side - no doubt they were together when Miss Pauling spoke of the loud speaker. He waved to the administrator's assistant, earning a smile from the woman.
"Pyro, Medic. As usual, just reports this month," she explained, handing Spy his folder. The Frenchman looked like he was holding back a fart of something, cheeks puffed up, lips pulled into a sort of odd smile.
"Mmpda mmhut mpht?" Pyro pointed to the large crate on the dollie by the base's door. Miss Pauling perked up.
"Oh, almost forgot! It's the replacement flamethrower, given the issues with your current one. You can just use it as is, or use the new parts to fix up your current one." Pyro let out a short sound of excitement, hurrying to uncrate his new weapon. He passed Scout, pausing momentarily to send him a curious nod.
"Mmu mphil mmhv mpht mpr?"
"Of course! As long as I have this thing, intact and perfect as evidence, I'm gonna find out who it belongs to!" Scout exclaimed. He reached into his pocket, glancing at Miss Pauling. "Here's what happened, I was doin' my laundry and-"
"Scout, you stop that story right now, mister!"
"Shut up Engie, you're too ugly to be my dad!"
"Oh, it is zis story again?"
"Scout told you too, Doktor? Is very strange find..."
"Eh, what are you maggots talking about? Did someone find a dead body again?"
"Scout, I'm warnin' you..."
"Ohohoho," snort, "ehehe..."
"Hey, mates. Any crates come for me or is it just-"
"I found a bra!"
Sniper slowly lowered his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, seeing Scout standing proudly in the hall with the pink bra held up in his hand. The aviators were pushed right back up his nose. Christ, why did Sniper always walk in on awkward moments.
Miss Pauling stared at the bra, then glanced at a grinning Scout.
"...right. Sniper, here's you're report," she said, gesturing to the Australian to come forward for his file.
"Miss Pauling, ain't you surprised?" Scout's grin and arm dropped, the bra now hanging at his side. From beside him, Soldier raised the brim of his helmet, give the garment a wide-eyed stare.
"Holy hell, what in Uncle Sam's name are you doing with some dame's underthing?" The patriot leaned away, giving the bra a look of sheer terror.
"Scout, what you or the others here do in their free time is none of my concern," Miss Pauling replied curtly, giving Sniper his folder. She resisted the urge to even look at Scout and feed into his constant need for attention, no matter how curious she was. Her stomach was starting to hurt and she just wanted a damn sandwich with a side of hashbrowns.
"But it ain't anyone's! So, it must be yours!"
"Scout!" Engineer looked awfully embarrassed, both ears bright red as he clutched his folder to his chest. "You can't just say things like that around a lady!"
"Yeah, lad, ye gotta have tact!" Demoman cleared his throat. "Miss Pauling, I don't think any of the boys here are keen to wearin' lady things. So, maybe it's yers, ye know, by some accident of a sort?"
Miss Pauling gave Demoman a blank stare. The Scotsman let out a nervous laugh at her lack of emotion, one hand going to rub the back of his head.
"I mean, ye don't have to answer that if ye don't want to..."
"Why would my bra be found in this base." It wasn't even a question. From Miss Pauling's look, all the mercenaries knew that the assumption was completely ridiculous if not improbable. Scout, however, was not easily dissuaded.
"Hey, we don't know what ya do when we ain't here Miss Pauling, no offense. I mean, cause I think you're a great gal and all, so it ain't a big deal if ya did leave your bra here. There's no other explanation." Scout gestured to the rest of the mercenaries gathered around, watching the scene with either curiosity, amusement, or in Engineer's case, shame. "Which sounds more plausible to you? One of these guys, yes includin' Spy as a guy, goes around wearin' a bra and I of all people didn't notice? Or, you left yours here!"
"Scout, perhaps it is your bra," pointed out Medic dryly. Scout gaped.
"We've been over this! Why would I tell you idiots about it if it was mine?" He snapped back to Miss Pauling who looked both mildly amused, and definitely annoyed. "C'mon, Miss Pauling, I'm like the master of finding out secrets. Like, Sniper's ma' settin him up with that girl, or Pyro's big gay girly crush on the doc."
"No need to bring that up again," Sniper huffed, red along his cheeks. "Besides, I don't think that'd fit Miss Pauling anyway, I mean her-" The Australian stopped himself, realizing he was about to voice his thoughts on less than appropriate observations about the only noticeable woman in the room. The rest of his team, including said woman, stared at him.
"Yes, Sniper?" Miss Pauling didn't sound offended, didn't sound like anything, but Sniper swore he saw her right eyebrow twitch a bit.
"Er..."
"What if it was someone from BLU?" Heavy broke in quietly. Scout blinked, looking at the bra, then at Heavy.
"Fuckin' BLU Scout. I knew it," breathed the youngest mercenary. "That bastard's been sneaking in and doin' his laundry here!"
At the mention of BLU, Soldier had broken the bra's mystifying grasp on his eyes, and perked up.
"BLU? Sneaking into our base?"
"No, Solly, that's just a thought-" Engineer dodged Soldier's shovel that appeared from seemingly no where.
"Where are they? Come out, maggots, and let me introduce you to my '10 out of 10 for blunt force trauma' ass kicking!" called the patriot into the base, helmet bouncing around as his head snapped in every direction for a hint of blue.
"Is it really zat big of a deal? And vy vould BLU Scout be doing his laundry here?" asked Medic dully, crossing his arms behind his back.
"Obviously because of our unscented, industrial grade stain remover," Spy responded, from the edge of the room where he had been smoking, snorting to himself, and observing the scene with the look of pure sociopathic delight. Scout sent both of them a glare.
"Ya know, you and the Doc are startin' to look real suspicious right now. I say we test the bra on everyone! No one leaves this room until this bra touches their chest!"
"Scout, you cannot be serious," bit out Miss Pauling, placing a hand on her hip. She was about ready to smack the young man with her binder.
"I'm super serious!" said Scout, leaping to block the front door with his body, pink bra clutched by one strap in his hand.
"Good idea! Now we can all search for the BLU scum hiding here," praised Soldier, still brandishing his shovel.
"Ye arse, there is no BLU here!"
"Huh, exactly what a BLU Spy would say!"
"Look what ye did, Heavy."
"Sorry. Did not mean to get Soldier very excited."
"Take off ya shirts, all of you!" demanded Scout, shooting his teammates a crazed look. "I need to get to the bottom of-oh gawd!"
Scout screamed as flash of fire blew in front of him, torching the bra. He immediately let go of the flaming fabric, watching it fall to the floor and burn up, leaving little crisps fabric and wire.
"Hudda hudda huh!" Pyro lifted his new flamethrower over his head, bouncing it with pride. Scout slowly fell to his knees, staring at the burnt discovery of perhaps the biggest piece of gossip he would ever get to spread. He felt a tear.
"Pyro, why! Why Pyro!" At the American's anguished cries, the entire team and Miss Pauling looked to the asbestos wearing mercenary for an answer.
Pyro tilted his head, slowly lowering the flamethrower.
"Mmph?"
"Whhhhyyyyy!"
Scout began to curse, followed by Engineer praising Pyro for destroying the cause of the day's troubles. Soon, most of the mercenaries were involved, either trying to help Scout cope with his loss, give Pyro a job well done, or in Soldier's case, ask why the BLU team would wear pink bras.
"Oh my God!" mumbled Spy, chortling as he moved to nudge Medic in the side. "This, this is just brilliant. Tell me it's not brilliant, Doctor?"
The German pursed his lips to hide a smile at Pyro's complete lack of acknowledgment of what he just did.
"I'm not should how I should feel about any of this." The two men glanced to the side to see Miss Pauling standing, arms crossed over red binder and eyebrows raised in muted astonishment as she watched Scout's whining and the surrounding mercenaries' clamor. "Is this normal?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
:::
So who did the bra belong to? We may never know...well, I know. And I left a few little clues, so I'm sure some of you will be able to guess the most likely candidate. Spy's laughing because it's all quite hilarious, but perhaps because he truly knows who it belongs to? Hmm hmm hmmm...