#behold the trash i maketh

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

TF2 Headcanon - “In The Know”

Based on a random headcanon @camiluna27 proposed like an hour ago. And I made this trash.

-Title: IN THE KNOW-

The first thing Engine knew of Spy finding out, was the exact moment his laboratory door exploded inward with the force of a furious frenchman's foot.

"YOU KNEW!" accused the masked man, blatantly seething.

Engie, trying to diffuse the situation, doesn't rise to the bait. "Ah know many things, Spah, you mind tellin' me which thing you're on about?"

"Zhe bushman has been defiling my SON! And I am zhe last on zhe base to know about zhis-... zhis-... blatant manipulation of a minor?!" Spy cries, furious, but perhaps not finding quite the right words in English.

Amused, but patient, Engie puts down his tools before responding. "Now, see here Spook the kid's nearly thirty he ain't no minor-"

"Physically, per'aps, but--" interjects Spy, before Engie can talk over him again.

"...-and he's a tad immature at times but it don't mean he can't make his own decisions. The kid knows what he's on about, and ah'm getting the impression it's more about the who, than the fact he's in a relationship with another man..."

"Well of course that does not matter, it would be 'ypocritical to scorn such a union, but my point is zhat of all zhe men 'ere... 'e chooses zhe one man who likes to fling PISS at people for fun!" stresses the exasperated Spy, hands flailing as he tried to impress on the stocky Texan the gravity of the situation.

"Mmmm, ah know you two don't see eye-to-eye but Sniper's a good man and Scout couldn't have done much better -or worse, come to think of it- outta the people here. Least it ain't BLU's Sniper..." he gets the dig in there, because who could resist.

The horrified expression on Spy's face was worth it. "Mon dieu... per'aps we should thank god for small miracles zhen, I could not attend a wedding where zhey replace confetti with jarate..."

Engie snorts. "Now where'n the hell'd ya get that idea, Spook?"

"What? Oh... they just use it for everything else, even extinguishing fires! I would not be surprised if zhey use it for mouthwash... everything is piss with those Snipers. And to zhink my son 'as stooped low enough to 'ave some degree of affection for one of zhat Class..." the Frenchman sounded desolate, unusually bereft. As if this physically pained him.  

"Now look here, Spah... ah don't want to step on your toes seein' as you're finally get interested in Scout's life again... and you're gonna get these weird urges to protect him, 'cause he's your kid... but like, sometimes you have to let kids make their own choices. And Scout's smart, he made a good one... found a top-notch bloke who loves him right back, and has killed to keep him safe. They're a good enough match..." Engie offers, resisting the urge to place a consoling hand on Spy's arm.

"But why the BUSHMAN? And why am I zhe last to know?" Spy asks, looking rather perturbed still.

Engie scratches at his stubbly chin. "Well, ah can't rightly say why they've waited so long to tell ya, maybe waiting for a good time I suppose. As for the who... well, they get on like a house on fire, and you'd think it was a case of opposites attractin' but they're more similar than you'd think..."

"Per'aps you are ri-... what do you mean 'waited zhis long', is this not new?" those piercing blue eyes narrowed in suspicion as Engie fumbled to think of an excuse.

Instead, he sighs and decides to be honest. "Far as I can tell, it's been almost a year now... or thereabouts. Think it was this time last year I had them both come see me, separately mind, to use as a sounding board... liked each other but were too damn chicken to take the next step and actually admit it. Can face death a dozen times a day, but can't tell another person they like 'em. On the plus side, it gave me a chance to talk Scout out of using those baseball pick-up lines he's so damn fond of... Sniper might've found 'em funny, but they're just painful to hear..."

"You are telling me. I do not know WHERE he gets zhat from, 'is mother is perfectly romantic when she wishes to be..." Spy admits, posture relaxing for the first time since he barged in.

"Oh?" Engie queries, "And how does the whole her bein' Scout's Ma work with you and, y'know, Demo..."

Spy's mouth quirks up. "She is utterly fine with it, we had something as two people a long time ago... and now there are three people, it matters little. Although I know she misses us being around... and there are few opportunities for privacy on a base like zhis. In fact, where have-..."

His eyes narrowed once more. "Zhe van. Zhey 'ave been shagging in zhat filthy van... I will need to get Scout tested for everything..."

Engie was torn between mild pride at the paternal pattern of thought, and downright amusement at the ridiculousness of it all. So he settled for allowing the burbling laugh trapped in his chest to break free...

Spy pulls up short at the sound. "And what, exactly, is so funny... labourer?"

"You, god dammnit, I mean... it's nice ta see ya takin' an interest but you're worse than a first-time mother hen fussin' over her chicks. Ain't like either of 'em can get pregna-..." Engie pauses.

Spy's eyes widen.

"You do not zhink zhe good Doctor has added anything... unusual to our internal organs, outside zhe normal array of animal items, do you?"

"Lord ah hope not, but we might as well check in before someone gets surprised..." Engie responds.

Not to cast aspersions on the good Medic, but he had this funny little quirk for playing God with the Mercs, and a they'd been caught up short a few times thanks to that. Like the day Demo woke up with gills... or the fact everyone had a Mega Baboon heart attached to an uber implant... not to mention the time Medic gave soldier poison sacs without explicitly mentioning it to the man...  and the rocket-jumping merc kept accidentally envenoming a certain teammate, who then had to fess up to the team healer why he needed the antitoxin so frequently. That had been interesting, to say the least...

They're both out of their chairs and at the door before another word is spoken. The corridor seems endless.

"Apart from the surprise of it all... you coping with this well enough, now ya calmed down?" Engie queries, hurrying his steps to keep up with the lankier-limbed Spy.

There was a long pause, as the Infirmary door reared before them like an oncoming wave. No one usually came in here unless it was urgent, except Heavy, and that was a different story.

"...oui, I suppose so, labourer." Spy finally admits, swinging open the door with gusto. "Doctor, we must 'ave words!"

- - -

Twenty minutes later, utterly reassured that, whilst Medic had given them many little enhancements... the ability to be mothers was not one of them.

Although he did confess to having his eye on a shipment of baboon uteruses, if they were interested? Engineer had smacked the Doctor, and told him to stop that nonsense right now. Where would they even PUT a baby on this base? What kind of nanny mercenary could look after it during battle...?

At which point Spy started to get a little concerned about the sanity of the team's two (supposedly) sanest members...

He'd circumvented it all with a polite, "Non", and dragged Engie out before anyone could start making blueprints.

"Well, zhat answers zhat disturbing question at zhe very least." Spy sighs, tired after the unusual emotional rollercoaster of the day.

"You good, then?" Engie queries, as they head towards the main lounge area, because something smelled good in the kitchen and it was just about dinner time anyways.

"I believe so..." Spy responds, then grimaces as if the next words caused him physical pain. "And you 'ave been exceptionally patient, and 'elpful, despite my outbursts... zhank you, Engineer."

"Mighty kind of you to say, son. Now let's get some grub, you and that kid'a yours are too damn skinny..." ribs the Engineer, changing the mood to something more positive as they turn into the common room.

Spy notices the way Scout and Sniper immediately spring apart to opposite ends of the couch; as Heavy takes a conspicuous two steps towards it and pretends to yawn, blocking them from view a moment too late. A foolproof system of deception. Spy could almost be proud...

Scout is nervously peering at him over the back of the couch; Spy deliberately catches his eye... and smiles, with a slight, 'go ahead' wave of his hand.

The runner was ghostly white, like he'd received a sudden shock, and might just fall off the couch any second. Sniper, catching the gesture, moved over to Scout again, and put his arm back around the lanky runner.

They clearly needed a moment to process the unexpected 'permission' of sorts. A general 'I know, it's okay' from the person they had clearly been dreading finding out, the most.

Engineer broke off to check on what was cooking. Pyro always made something exciting, but someone had to check they didn't put enough spice in there to kill a small adult... they liked things hot, as one would imagine, but for some of the mercs who had little to no experience with food of that type... it'd been quite a unique introduction.

Spy found himself gravitating to stand by Demo, who was sitting at their battered all-purpose wooden table. It was for meals, plotting, game night, poker, planning out missions, an impromptu hoizontal dart board, extra bed for those whose back were revolting on them, and many other things far less innocent that no one else on base ever mentioned seeing if they ran across it.

The Scot had a pile of scrap before him, clearly carefully constructing them into... something. Spy could make heads nor tails of it... but the mercenary clearly had some blueprint in his mind. Watching those large hands delicately piece together something intricate, delicate, and utterly puzzling to the observer with no visual cues as to the identity of the finished product... was hypnotic, soothing, and fascinating. Demo knew Spy loved to watch him work, and that's probably why he was being so obvious about it.

Having accidentally dropped the bomb on Spy about Sniper & Scout. He was clearly doing the one thing that Demo knew for sure would calm Spy down, short of... well, things that can't be done in the occupied common room without at least some complaints being filed to Human Resources.

"You know me so well..." he mutters to Demo, sitting down in the seat beside the man. Subtly pressing his arm alongside that of Demo's, and just watching...

He just about visibly startled when a plate was placed on the table before him. Demo, too, jumped, lost in his invention.

Engie laughed, and moved down the line, handing out plates full of... who knows, but it smelled amazing.

Scout and Sniper, down the table, had abandoned all pretence of not being together, and were sitting close. But, nothing else was amiss...

'At least they're not feeding each other spoonful by spoonful and giggling about it,' Spy thought to himself. They were just existing as they normally did, the same way Demo, Spy and all the others did.

He was glad, truly, that nothing had changed.

"Pass the salt, Bilby..." Sniper mutters, and Spy's ears prick up as Scout goes bright red.

"Bilby, is it?" he drawls, and some at the table tense.

Sniper doesn't seem to mind as much as the flustered Scout does. "Yeah, Bilby, 'cause they're small, cute little buggers... and the technical term for 'em is a rabbit bandicoot... 'n when we got here I always called him 'Scoot', so... rabbit bandi-scoot... bilby... just fits."

"Oh my god, stop telling my dad these things, Snipes, pleaaaaaaaaase..." Scout whines, definitely Not Making Eye Contact With Anyone after a statement like that.

"Why not, he's probably got baby photos of you somewhere 'round here that're way more embarrassing..." Sniper ribs, as Scout pouts, melodramatically.

Spy grins, "Oui, I do indeed, mon petit lapin."

Scout groans, "This is why I didn't wantcha to know just yet, cause I had a feeling you and Snipes would team up against me..."

"Aw mate, don't be like that." Sniper coaxes, not even the vaguest smidgeon of apology written on his features. "We're just teasing..."

"You may be, bushman, but I 'ave documented evidence of a certain lapin's first bubble bath I am sure everyone 'ere would love to see..." Spy goads, good-naturedly.

Scout is looking at him in such stark horror, it's hard for the rest of the team not to burst out laughing. Spy is only remaining nonchalant through years of schooling his own features.

Demo is the one that takes pity first, and calms the situation down. He nudges Spy in the side, "Take it down a notch, darlin', the lad'll drop dead on ye if ye don't."

Now it's his turn to get Spy's glare, as Medic nearly inhales his fork in surprise. Scout has to rescue Sniper from the beer he was currently choking on.

Ideally, he hadn't wanted the relationship to come out so... messily. He wrinkled his nose, since when had Demo ever called him 'Darling'?

He flicks open the balisong, dramatically. "Do you 'ave any last words, Tavish?"

Chairs scrape the floor as others start to gt up to intercede...

"Tell your wife, I love her!" Demo cries dramatically, and then both of the men burst into laughter, to the confusion of the rest of the team.

"Tell 'er yourself, mon amour, next time we are 'ome... I would not wish to explain your sudden death, or my role in it." Spy responds, tone familiar and warm.

"Wait..." Scout's small voice pipes up, and his expression shows his mind is busy processing this. "I have two dads?"

Demo looks at Spy, who nods. "Oh aye, but I'm gonnae have tae draw the line at either you or Snipes there callin' me 'daddy', aye?"

Dinner was all but forgotten in the uproar of hilarity that followed.

----

The End

[alieu-drawz]

Lizzie:

okay…this lodging hast to beest p'rfect f'r scott. This lodging hast nev'r very much been the most presentable to oth'rs…but i has't to tryeth!

that gent didn't coequal specifyeth what that gent did want.

and i has't not yond much most wondrous. things eith'r.

(she picks up one of h'r sticks)

lizzie:

liketh this! how is this going to beest useful to an emp'r'r liketh that gent?!

that gent's belike aft'r something yond i cannot provideth that gent with…but i has't to maketh t soundeth liketh something that gent needeth!

(the audience hears walking sounds offstage, then scott appears looking 'round, amazed)

scott:

so, this is what an ocean's grove looks liketh! nev'r seen one bef're

lizzie:

why…yes of course! this grove hast been in mine own family f'r gen'rations longeth bef're yours.

and anon t is hand'd to me.

scott:

wow. So this lodging is quaint ancient then?

(lizzie nods but soft, and opens out h'r arms)

lizzie:

welcometh to mine own trading area! thee didn't very much specifyeth what thee did want from me…can thee doth yond f'r me?

scott:

well i may as well just taketh a behold first, if 't be true th're's nothing yond i can receiveth then i wonneth't wasteth thy timeth

lizzie:

good now, alloweth me showeth thee 'round mine own humble did abide fellow emp'r'r!

(13th song:deal with destiny)

lizzie:

feast thy eyes as i shareth, mine own gl'rious wares

the precious antiques those gents're exquisitely rare:

a magical ink sac, some ancient bamboo, a dish of deliciously devilish stew

maketh up thy mind, what fabulous findeth shall t beest?

scott:(spoken)

i supposeth not thee has't any…gl'rious footwares?

lizzie:

well…i've did get:

a fishing rod, an enchant'd booketh, an iron ingot and a tripwire hooketh

a hand-craft'd sticketh and a pow'rful boweth!

a dinosaur bone and a "tasty" potato!

maketh up thy mind, what fabulous findeth shall t beest?

i've did get a dealeth with destiny, a bargain with fate

this business is did bind to profit me,

as longeth as yond daw doth take the bait!

lizzie:(spoken)

so…anything thee liketh?

scott:

i cullionly, yond's all v'ry nice, t's all v'ry well

but i've did get those things at rivendell

i'm hoping f'r something a dram did bite new…

(looking 'round then pointing at some snazzy boots)

those boots ov'r th're behold liketh those gents couldst doth!

i've madeth up mine own mind, yond fabulous findeth is f'r me!

lizzie:(spoken)

those gents're…they're just fusty leath'r. But i guesseth,

"one sir's trash is anoth'r sir's treasure"

those gents're yours!

scott:(stopping h'r)

i-i actually meanteth the shini'r pair

wouldst those gents beest something thou art willing to spareth?

thee knoweth i liketh diamonds, thee knoweth i loveth gold

and teal just suits me, 'r so i've been toldeth

i've madeth up mine own mind, yond fabulous findeth is f'r me!

i've did get a dealeth with destiny, a bargain with fate

this business is did bind to profit me,

as longeth as yond blinking idiot doth take the bait!

lizzie:(spoken)

and i shall lodging these right h're, because th're's something we haven't did discuss.

scott:(spoken)

…which is?

lizzie:

aye t sounds fair, but what about me?

i'm a gen'rous sould but i giveth not f'r free!

rivendell hast such a lot in t's kopp'rs

certes th're's something of w'rth thee can off'r?

scott:(spoken)

uuummm…of course! i've did get the:

(sung)

oldest wood from the, tallest pines,

the toughest stone from the, deepest mineth,

the purest snoweth from the, highest peek!

the softest wool from the, fluffiest sheep

maketh up thy mind…what fabulous find…

shall t beest?

lizzie:(spoken)

how about yond robe?

scott:(spoken)

tch, not a chance.

lizzie:(spoken)

how about the birds of the night?

scott:(spoken)

absolutely not.

(lizzie eyes the strange 'rb yond scott hast been holding)

lizzie:(spoken)

yond thing looks int'resting!

scott:(spoken, did confuse)

uh…what thing?

lizzie:(spoken)

um yond thing in thy handeth, the one thee've been holding this whole timeth.

scott:(spoken)

oh…this piece of ju- i cullionly! valuable treasure. Mhm!

lizzie:(giggling)

aye. Yond's what i wanteth!

scott:(spoken)

well enow well, this f'r the boots. Doth we has't ourselves a dealeth?

lizzie:(spoken)

dealeth.

scott:

i've did get a dealeth with destiny(lizzie:i've did get a dealeth with destiny)

a bargain with fate

this business is did bind to profit me,

(and t's did bind to profit me!)

anon yond this daw's madeth a

dealeth with destiny (i've did get a dealeth with destiny!)

a bargain with fate

this business is did bind to profit me

(and t's did bind)

both:

anon yond, yond daw's tooketh the bait!

(the dealeth with destiny song ends)

scott:

well! thanketh thee ocean queen

(he passes the 'rb thing to lizzie)

i shall anon taketh mine own leaveth!

lizzie:

thanketh thee emp'r'r of rivendell!

goodbye!

-Deal with destiny in Shakespearian, love my friend.