It was a long, awkward car ride to Orlando.
The cabin of the Engineer's truck wasn't large enough to fit three people. The Spy had to take his tired, worn car on the road. Someone was always alone, no matter who rode where. The Scout's mother flittered between the two vehicles. When she was with Miss Pauling, they made light conversation. When she was with the Spy, she could barely speak. The Spy's throat was caught up with something tight, his mouth sour from more than bile.
They stopped at a rest area just outside the metropolitan zone. Coordinating within the city's limit was going to be a touch trickier between two vehicles. They had to have a unified destination in mind. Helping themselves to a complimentary phonebook, they sat in the flat, open back of the Engineer's truck, pouring over possible hotel locations.
"I hate to bring up an awkward topic, but…" Miss Pauling hesitated, then smiled. "Are we going to need one room or two?"
Three people could share a two-bed hotel room. It would be awkward dressing and sharing the bathroom, though. More uncomfortable yet was who would room with whom if they split up. If the girls stayed together, they'd be ostracizing the Spy. Sharing a room could help mend the tensions between the Spy and the Scout's mother. Even if there were conflicts amongst the group, no one was willing to let the Scout's mother stay alone. They avoided each other's glances as they pondered the situation.
Miss Pauling didn't push their decision. That was something the two of them would have to work out. "I'm going to go give the boys a call. You two figure it out, okay?"
The truck gave a soft bounce and a squeak as Miss Pauling went to call the troops in Hydro. When the truck settled, both the Spy and the Scout's mother slunk to the bottom of the phone book. They held their ground, then began flipping through the pages together. It helped to think about their mission.
"Mind if I jump ahead?" the Scout's mother asked.
The Spy shook his head. "Zhe book is yours."
The Scout's mother plopped the phonebook onto her lap. She flipped past the advertisements, straight to the residential areas. The pages made a thick, slurping noise as she flipped to her son's name. Both of them studied addresses and numbers listed for the names. There were quite a few of them, but it wasn't the overwhelming pile of numbers that she had created to hunt the Spy down.
Tearing the page out, the Scout's mother folded the paper and tucked it into her purse. She continued circling and ripping, taking any shortened version, nickname, or misspelling that she could possibly think belonged to her baby. "Think it's silly. We could just drive around tonight and ring doorbells."
"Zhat would be simpler. It might save us money, too," the Spy agreed.
He held his tongue for a moment, studying the little mother. She looked so tired. Miss Pauling and any of the men could handle the stresses of traveling for days on end, fighting with little rest and irregular hours. She had stamina, certainly. Any mother of eight sons had to be willing to fight hell back. If either of them was weaker than the other, it was the Spy. He couldn't tolerate seeing her so run down.
"It will be a long drive to find every last one," the Spy said.
The Scout's mother nodded. "Yeah. Getting sick of driving all dhe time."
The Spy lifted his hand. He brushed back a thick black strand of hair, then tucked it behind her ear. "You look tired."
"I am," the Scout's mother admitted. "Just have to keep going, you know? My kid's out dhere, and I can't stand not knowing how he is doing."
"We should call him. Perhaps, from someplace with air conditioning," the Spy murmured.
"It definitely will be cheaper to call him from a hotel telephone. Don't think I've got enough quarters to make a phone call out here, anyway," the Scout's mother admitted.
The Spy's eyes lowered. He smiled, then stroked her right ear with his thumb. It was so strange to feel skin without gloves covering his hands. He had forgotten a lot about what had pleased him. If the low fire in the little mother's eyes said anything, then she had not. She smirked, then clasped onto his hand. She brought it into her lap, then began petting it with her left hand.
A small laugh escaped the Scout's mother. "I missed you."
"Oui," the Spy replied.
Warm lips pressed on that same ear that had been touched. The fire flared into an inferno, just for one moment. The Scout's mother's smile widened. That dog! He had no shame. She slipped an arm around his trim waist, then pulled him next to her hips. She flopped the phonebook on both of their laps, then flipped the pages back to the hotels.
"I've got to call dhese numbers first, okay?" the Scout's mother stated.
"Je sais," the Spy agreed. "Take all zhe time you need."
The Scout's mother sniffled once, then turned the page. "I'll probably be a blubbering mess if he doesn't pick up. Just gonna warn you."
"I will do whatever you need to have done." The Spy kissed the top of her forehead. "We will find him. I promise you."
The Scout's mother whistled low. "You are smooth, you know dhat?"
The Spy wasn't guilty. "It is how I got my job."
"Not with dhat old crone!" the Scout's mother protested. Her face crinkled at the very thought.
"No! Never!" the Spy exclaimed.
"I get dhat it's part of your job and all, but dammit—" the Scout's mother cursed.
The Spy shook his head. "I have gone hungry many years, but even I wouldn't—"
"—sell yourself like that?" a third voice chimed in.
Both the Scout's mother and the Spy jumped at Miss Pauling's return. The Scout's mother released the Spy, then slunk away. He kept from looking directly into Miss Pauling's eyes, instead burying his nose in the yellow pages of the phone book. The assistant raised an eyebrow but didn't pick on them. She was just glad to see that they were warming up to each other again. If nothing else, it made traveling easier if they were happy with each other once more.
"Got any news?" the Scout's mother asked.
Miss Pauling beamed. "You won't believe it. Four more showed up at Hydro!"
The Spy's expression lifted with surprise. "Who?"
"The Soldier, the Pyro, the Heavy, and the Medic," Miss Pauling said, ticking off the names on her fingers. "They all had their devices fail. Well, except for the Soldier, I guess. But the Medic took care of that. Anyway! They were coming back to investigate what was going on, and they intercepted one of Gray Mann's tanks. They met the other three on site, stopped the tank, and are now repairing the base."
The Scout's mother gave a cheer. "Oh my God! Dhat means dhat all we've gotta do is find my kid!"
"Are you sure zhey will be safe at Hydro?" the Spy asked. "If Monsieur Mann knows where zhey are—"
Miss Pauling nodded in agreement. "I know, but they're on their own. Even if we went back right now, they would be on their own for at least a day. We've just got to trust that they know what they're doing."
"Dhen, we've gotta get movin'!" the Scout's mother blurted.
The Spy agreed. He glanced down in the telephone book one more time, then pointed out a hotel. "We stop here for zhe night. Let us purchase two rooms. Mon petite? Mademoiselle? You dial as fast as you can."
The Scout's mom fetched the numbers and a pen from her purse. She split the pages in half, then circled the numbers Miss Pauling needed to call. She then scribbled the hotel's address down. "Here, doll face. You take one, I'll take dhe other."
"Great!" Miss Pauling smiled. She hopped off the side of the truck, then entered the cabin. "Anyone coming with me?"
An awkward silence came over the chatty group. Miss Pauling knew what that meant. She smirked, then pulled back the truck cabin's window. "Well, hop in or hop out, you two."
The duo complied. They slid towards the Spy's car. With a low rumble, the Engineer's truck started back up. Miss Pauling waved at them, then took off for her destination. An eerie feeling went through the Scout's mother's chest. This was one of the first times in several days that she had been apart from the little assistant. She felt guilty for slinking away.
The blazing orange sun submitted to the demands of the overpowering night. Neon signs burned in protest of the star-flecked darkness. Warm, humid air churned, pulled away from the car's cold speed. The pair cruised through gray streets. Palm trees bowed in their wake. It didn't take long for the sweltering light to lead them to their destination.
The Scout's mother handled her pile of numbers as the Spy set up their room for the evening. What had been electric hope sizzled out. One line went unanswered. Another disconnected. The third was answered by a gruff voice. Another by a woman who cursed the beloved name the little mother had given her child. On and on it went, a churning, hissing circle of static.
She sat the black receiver down on the phone once more. It was heavier to pick up than an anvil. Spread around her were names crossed through. Very few went unanswered. They existed as little more than curious white spaces in a sea of ink. She scratched one more, the pen's tip tearing through the page.
"Goddammit," the mother cursed.
Soft hands rested on top of hers once more. She did not fight as the Spy took the pen and papers away from her. "Mon petite—"
"I wasn't done," the Scout's mother said.
The Spy nodded. He took the pen into his hand, then placed it on the next number down. "Zhis one?"
"Not him," the lady murmured. "Not anything below dhat tear."
The Spy made gentle strikes through the names. He collected her papers, then began counting unanswered calls. He gave a small nod, then forced a smile. "Twenty names. Zhat's not so bad."
The Scout's mother agreed. It was less than what she had to work with when she tried hunting down the Spy. It didn't take the pain away. She laid her head on his shoulder, then sighed again. "Plus, what Miss P has."
"Zhat is correct," the Spy bobbed his head. He laid his against hers, then settled down. "She will come to us if she has found someone."
Small nods were all the Scout's mother could work up. She was trying to plan in her head again. "I guess we could call in a few hours."
A devious thought worked its way into the Spy's mind. She could feel his growing smile through her hair. "Zhen, what shall we do, in zhe meantime?"
That grin was infecting her. She lowered her head, a kindled flame igniting. A gritty little part of her was mad as all hell at the Spy. She wanted to be sad. To mope just a bit. But, man, were they close. The victory was almost theirs.
Closer than that were soft, warm hands with well-trimmed nails. Humid breaths. Low whispers. A goofy, eagle's beak of a nose. Okay, so perhaps everyone had a few strange parts about them. She smiled, then bumped her tiny nose into his. Both felt cold against the surging heat in their cheeks.
He grabbed the papers and pen, tossing them onto the plywood dresser. She glanced at the door. Locked, bolted, and chain on. Good. She placed one foot to her boot's heel, then pressed down. It slid off, cold material exposing skin burning with anticipation. He did the same, tossing his shoes towards the door. Both his pair and hers landed with an awkward clunk several feet away from the doormat. Their garments landed not too far behind them.
The room burst into a sweltering inferno, the ravenous couple burning through the night.
They needed a strong cup of coffee in the morning.
It was impossible to say how much sleep the duo had the night before, but if their hair was anything to go by, then not a lot. Frankly, Miss Pauling was just glad they showed up to the complimentary breakfast bar in clean clothing. They said nothing about it, and she said nothing about it, but all three knew. If there was anything a rogue agent, a secretary, and a mother of eight could appreciate, it was a little secrecy and silence.
It did make it a little hard to start discussing mission details, however.
Miss Pauling gave it her damnedest. "So. Um. Didn't have any luck last night."
"Me neither," the Scout's mother agreed. "Well, ah…"
"We did not locate her son," the Spy curtly interrupted. If nothing else, it spared them from an awkward conversation.
"That's what I figured." Miss Pauling was a bit flat with her tone. She pulled out her numbers, then tapped on a few remaining addresses. "Anyway. I had sixteen that didn't pick up. I tried again this morning and got it down to eight. How about you two?"
"Twenty, as of last night. We have not made additional calls," the Spy reported.
The Scout's mother took a sip of coffee, then cleared her head. "I got to thinking, though. What do you suppose my boy would be doing here, anyway? Bit early for basketball, and kinda late for baseball. Can't think he'd be too good at retail."
"He is a bit obstinate," the Spy agreed.
"You know I love my son, Miss P. I really do," the Scout's mother protested. "I'm just thinking—where would a twenty-something man-child work in Orlando?"
The thought hit Miss Pauling instantly. Even a practical woman like herself was getting at what the whimsical mother was pointing at. Her face drained. Suddenly, this mission was going off the rails. "No. No, no. Don't get distracted. We're looking for your son, remember? Your baby?"
"Yeah, yeah, but follow me on dhis one," the Scout's mother argued. "He's good around kids, right? I mean, he did dhat one stint with dhat Christmas thing once. With dhe little elf boots and all?"
Miss Pauling's eyebrows fell. "You mean, that incident where the Spy put a child's life in danger so he could stab the Australian Spirit of Christmas in the neck with an icicle?"
The Spy shook his head, then drank his coffee. "Don't make zhis about me."
The Scout's mother reached for Miss Pauling's hands. She gave them tiny shakes as she made her case. "C'mon. Think about it. Where else could he be in dhis whole stinking joint?"
All Miss Pauling could respond with was a low groan. The mother had a point. It would be impossible to hide a loudmouthed braggart anywhere but in the limelight. She slumped her head to her right, then glared at the Spy, her glasses crooked on her nose. "Help me."
"To be fair, Miss Pauling?" The Spy smoothed out his list of numbers, then pointed at one number that stuck out. "Zhis is the only one zhat perfectly matches his name. We were unable to contact it last night. Zhe residence, however? It is in close proximity to—"
"Oh, crap," Miss Pauling sighed.
It wasn't an hour later that the trio was standing behind the sparkling, freshly cleaned gates of Disney World.
The assistant couldn't believe how insane her traveling companions were. She expected more restraint from a pair that was at least twice her age. She rubbed her head, trying not to think how much gas money they were wasting on a whim. It wasn't like the theme park wasn't enjoyable, to some extent. She found herself gazing at a massive replica castle, wondering if she should be taking notes for future bases. Still, this wasn't exactly serious detective work.
The hordes of screaming children weren't helping, either.
The three of them crowded around a garish map. Miss Pauling sighed, then began giving orders. "Okay. Ma, you start at the west. Spy, the east. I'll work my way north. We stop at these orange Ts and ask for information about the Scout. We rotate positions every hour and meet up at the castle by noon. Do any of you have pictures of him?"
The Scout's mom fished a tiny four by six out of her purse. It was a black and white photo of the Scout from the fourth grade. Not quite helpful, in this situation. "What? It's dhe best photo I've got of him! Wasn't he cute?"
"Let's…just get to work," Miss Pauling replied. "And I really shouldn't have to say this, but no funny business in front of the kids, okay? Even the animatronic ones."
The Spy was less than pleased with that order. "You are no fun today, mademoiselle."
As the trio broke to hunt, Miss Pauling studied the map. Her first instinct was to go find the Pirates of the Caribbean ride and dunk her head underwater until her embarrassment went away, but that was both suicidal and off course. She stumbled towards the north, trying to keep her eye on both the crowds and her map. It was proving to be a difficult task. She was tossed back and forth, rolled with the wave of people. It felt less like fun and more like being herded towards a slaughterhouse.
She finally broke free of people as she stopped near marker 107. It looked like some kind of submarine ride. Fun, maybe, but she wasn't here to have fun. She sighed, then shook her head. If this kept up, she would turn into Helen one day. Smiling, she tried to find something enjoyable about the amusement park. It was kind of endearing to watch little kids fawn over the actors in costumes. The manmade lake wasn't bad, either. It was an off-putting, eerie shade of blue, but it was flanked with bright green foliage. Pretty, in an outlandish way.
Her concentration was broken by the cry of an excitable young man. "What are you looking for, Snow White? Mermaids?"
Miss Pauling made an awkward squeak. She hadn't expected for someone in a lime green tunic to jump right next to her. Children giggled as the actor hopped the chain railing, then began searching over the lake. "Nope! None here. You must have scared dhem off!"
"I would never—wait," Miss Pauling caught herself as she realized what was happening. This lunatic in an elf's costume was putting on a show. Damned if she hadn't almost been swept up in it. She composed herself, then shook her head. This place was insane. She was losing her focus.
"Ah, don't worry about dhem," the man in the Peter Pan costume teased her. "Dhey get jealous of pretty ladies like—"
Both the actor and Miss Pauling's jaws dropped. Now it was Peter Pan's turn to squawk. He hopped back over the railing, then bolted. It took Miss Pauling's bewildered mind a second to process what had just happened. First, there had been an obnoxious young man that was harassing her. Then, he saw her face. Finally, he ran away like a terrified mouse. All she recalled from that blur of events were buck teeth, an obnoxious voice, and a very familiar tiny nose.
That was the Scout.
He recognized her.
And now, he was running like hell.
Miss Pauling hissed through her teeth, just low enough so the kids wouldn't hear her threats. "I'm going to beat the pixie dust out of him!"
Author's Note
I have never been to Disney World. However, I have been to Disney Tokyo courtesy of a super awesome friend.
Also—if you haven't seen Frozen, go do that.