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littlemisssquiggles · 5 years

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Pinehead Headcanons: Oscar’s Other Rose

Someone asked “ You ever notice how you can literally just take any screencap of Oscar looking at Ruby and 99% he has a soft look in his eyes and a soft smile too? I did, and I lose my mind over it all the time. “

Squiggles Answers:

You are indeed correct about that anon-chan. It’s adorable that Oscar has grown attached to Ruby enough that he now looks to her both for inspiration and out of care for her own well-being. Be it in support or in need of motivation, Oscar has eyes only for Ruby Rose. As a matter of fact, you just helped spark a new Pinehead headcanon which I believe may be my favourite one yet, my dear anon-ninja.

To my fellow Pineheads who are curious about Oscar’s past life living in Mistral with his family, have you considered this concept:

What if…the Atlas Arc will introduce us to a second Rose who shares a history with Oscar?

For the sake of this headcanon of mine, I’m going to christen this character fittingly ‘Rosaline Fox’ or simply Rose for short and this character will share inspiration from both the Fox and the Rose from the Little Prince.

What if…when Oscar was a young boy growing up in the farmlands of Anima, he had a childhood best friend named Rose who used to live next door to him during a timeline where Oscar still lived happily with his parents (or single mother since I’m still rolling with that theory) back in his old neighbourhood before he moved in with his Aunt and Uncle.

Imagine…Rose Fox being part of the brighter half of Oscar’s life and the two were close friends since they were in diapers until Rose moved away to Atlas with her parents when Oscar was seven years old. Since then, he never saw her again until they surprisingly reunite with each other in the hallways of Atlas Academy.

I really, really love this concept because it could potentially be a way for the audience to learn more about Oscar’s life. As we know, the main series doesn’t highlight Oscar revealing much more about himself beyond the generic ‘he’s a fourteen year old farm hand from Mistral’. While some Pineheads are satisfied with this and believe that this is all we need to know about Oscar, as you know this squiggle meister firmly but respectfully disagrees. I understand that Oscar is only a supporting character but he’s still part of the main cast of heroes and holds as much importance to the plot as characters like Jaune, Nora and Ren. If we can get to learn that Jaune has seven sisters, even being introduced to one of them in V6 in addition to having a full episode focused on Ren and Nora’s backstory then the same could be done for Oscar, right?

I know all three of these examples were given because the plot set aside time to demand that these stories be revealed since they were relevant to the narrative. We had to learn about Jaune’s sisters since one of them housed our heroes while they were in Argus for V6 and we had to learn about Ren and Nora’s connection to Kunoyuri since the monstrous Nuckelavee that decimated that village was the final boss fight for RNJR back in V4.

Perhaps it can work the same for Oscar where the plot will demand we know a little bit more about him since it will possibly tie into the Merge and/or have some part with him reconciling with Ozpin within his mind. We will see. My point is that I really would love to learn more about Oscar’s past because it’s a good way of knowing more about who he is and what his life was like before. If Oscar is expected to, quote, unquote ‘disappear in the Merge’ as the story tries to imply then wouldn’t it make sense if it spends some time fleshing Oscar out before that time comes. I’m just saying.

This is why I like the idea of Oscar meeting an old friend from home in Atlas. Before we got to meet Saphron Cotta-Arc in V6, the series dropped a hint of her existence way back in V4 and before we saw how Ren and Nora became orphans (particularly Ren), remember we got that hint from Nora back in V3.

Oscar having a second Rose in his life (before Ruby Rose) who was his childhood friend could encourage him to reveal more to our heroes and essentially the audience of what he was like growing up in Mistral. Besides who wouldn’t want to see someone from Oscar’s past tell embarrassing stories of the little farm-bred rascal he used to be.

Plus I like the idea of Rose being part of Oscar’s childhood before he went to live with his Aunt and Uncle on the Pine Family farm.

It’d be interesting if this Rose reminds Oscar of when things were good for him but she is blissfully unaware of the truth of what became of him and his parents after she moved away.

Picture it. RWBY and JNR enjoying Rose talking about the old misadventures of Oscar and Rose of the Mistralian Farmlands and the carefree mischief they used to get themselves into; revealing a different side to Oscar that our heroes weren’t familiar with. This then leads to Rose innocently asking Oscar about his parents and how they were doing/feeling about him being all the way in Atlas since she remembered how overprotective they were of him as a kid, only for Oscar to freeze up and give a rather cutthroat response before trying to change the subject; indicating that discussing his parents was a very touchy subject for him.

Imagine if…Rose Fox is the kind of bold girl who doesn’t know when to take a hint and she brazenly tries to force Oscar to open up about his parents, even going so far as to tactlessly touch the bandages on his neck, questioning the context of those two. This results in Oscar getting testy and storming off, much to everyone’s surprise, especially Ruby’s.

Rose: …Sheesh, lighten up Munchkin! I was only joking. Oscar: *furiously* Yeah well sometimes you don’t know when to stop!”

In the end, Ruby is the rose that goes to comfort Oscar and as a parallel to how Oscar got Ruby to open up during the dojo scene from V5, Ruby encourages Oscar to talk about his family and she is the rose and possibly the first person outside of his family to know the truth of what happened to Oscar’s parents---their tragic death and the deep pain it caused him that he’s been bottling up for years since it happened.

This additionally ties into why Oscar wears the neck bandages; to cover up an old wound he sustained from the incident that claimed his parent’s life. I still wish to think Oscar was raised by only his mom but that’s another Pinehead headcanon for another time.

Oscar doesn’t show Ruby his scars and out of respect for his feelings, she doesn’t push him to. Instead she consoles him and shares her own qualms over losing her mother at a young age too. It’s a pain and an understanding she shares with Oscar and she also fully comprehends why talking about is very sensitive for him.

In the event that a moment like this occurs, I can see it being another key moment that symbolizes why Ruby is important to Oscar. While the other Rose could be the one that makes Oscar remember his home, Ruby represents the new life Oscar has with the JNR_QROWBMY.

While the other Rose is a remnant from Oscar’s past---a life he ultimately left behind, Ruby is a part of his present and will unknowingly move onto to become a meaningful part of his unforeseeable future. Or…at least that’s how this squiggle meister would love to look at it anyways.

My Pinehead headcanon is that once Oscar starts attending Atlas Academy, Ruby’s slight protective nature of Oscar will be amped up to about an eleven. I can definitely picture our veteran Silver Eyed Warrior transforming into a sort of mother hen; constantly hovering around and doting over Oscar every chance she got to ensure that the young farm boy and huntsman in training is doing alright during his first time at huntsmen academy.

I can see Ruby being like this with Oscar to some extent because she was around Oscar’s age when she first started Beacon and her first day was a mess. I’m sure Ruby remembers fully well of all the shenanigans she got up to during her first day at Beacon so she’ll probably want to do her best to ensure that Oscar doesn’t bumble and suffer the same misgivings as her. I can definitely see Ruby continue to look out for Oscar a lot more at Atlas Academy. Kind of like his version of Yang Xiao Long to help him get adjusted.

But get this; I also have this hilarious idea that ties into a response I gave to @albion-93. Imagine if…Oscar is surprisingly popular with the ladies---unintentionally being dubbed one of the heartthrobs of the first years at Atlas. Imagine…Oscar having his very own entourage of squealing fangirls who have dubbed him as the ‘Little Prince’ based off of @miki-13’s fanfiction.

By my imagination, I can picture Ruby’s possessive side as a confirmed Scorpio-born surfacing as she constantly has to shoo away hordes of gushing Atlesian first years drooling over poor Oscar.

In the beginning, Ruby figured that Oscar was blissfully ignorant of his rampant popularity with the ladies but to Ruby’s surprise, Oscar is fully aware. On the contrary, he’s kind of used to it. My Pinehead headcanon is that back in his old neighbourhood, before he went to live with his aunt and uncle, Oscar was the only boy in his age group within a 30 mile radius so Oscar became rather popular with the young girls his age along his block who all had crushes on him and used to literally compete with each other over who gets to be his main girl.

The one girl who didn’t have a crush on Oscar was Rose Fox and she instantly became his best friend since she never tried to force him to be her boyfriend and to infantile Oscar Pine, that was great in his book. Speaking of Rose having a crush on Oscar, I’ll come back to that in a sec.

So Oscar is no stranger to girls’ trying to bark up the Pine Tree’ if y’know what I mean. Fun fact: Did you know that Pine trees smell really good and are known for their distinct scent. Perhaps this can apply to our precious farm boy. Maybe he’s the type of guy that smells good like all the time and has a natural strong yet good scent about him; even when he sweats. I mean it’s a thought.

I can picture girls swarming Oscar like vultures only for the Ruby to be the one to shoo them off; similar to how Rose used to protect Oscar from the boldfaced girls in their neighbourhood trying to court him. I really dig the idea of Oscar having two protective roses in his life.

I like the idea of Oscar being lenient of Ruby’s overprotectiveness toward him, implying that it reminds him of his mother and aunt who used to coddle him the same manner. If it weren’t for Oscar’s Uncle Henry; still nurturing but more willing to challenge Oscar and teach him lessons necessary for him growing up as the father figure in Oscar’s life then he would’ve grown up too soft.

I can picture Aunt Em being protective of Oscar especially after he came to live with her. I can definitely see Oscar being appreciative of Ruby looking out for him all the time since, in a way, she reminds him of Aunt Em. The only difference is that Oscar finds Ruby’s mother hen attitude a likeable quality that he admittedly finds rather cute about her. Picture these two Rosebuds like…

Oscar: Y’know…you’re the closest thing to a close friend I have here and…in many ways, I consider you my best friend. Sorry if that sounds…weird.

Ruby: No, no it’s fine. I consider you my best friend too. *good-humouredly* Don’t tell Weiss though. I don’t want her to get too jealous.

Ruby and Oscar share a laugh.

Ruby: *sheepishly* Sorry if I’ve been overbearing lately with the…y’know hovering and stuff. I just want to make sure that you’re okay and not overwhelmed by everything like how I was my first day.

Oscar: *laughingly* I think we’re way past that actually. Besides it’s okay. I know you’re just looking out for me and I appreciate that. But I also want to look out for you too. Be someone you can depend on. That way, I can return the favour once in a while. So it’s fine if you wanna continue to be a mother hen just so long as you don’t mind me being a papa co---uh…father rooster. We’ll look out for each other. Whaddaya say?

Ruby: I’d like that.

I can definitely see the Rosebud friendship flourishing in Atlas and I’m interested in seeing where V7 may take them. Resuming talk about Rose Fox, remember when I said Rose was the only girl from Oscar’s neighbourhood who didn’t have a crush on him.

Well, turns out Rose did secretly have a crush on Oscar when they were kids and meeting him again in Atlas just brought all of those past feelings bubbling to the surface; rekindling her romantic interest in him.

The concept I had is that this Rose Fox character can play the role of an imposter rose inspired by the Little Prince but her main purpose would be more akin to the Fox.

In the Little Prince fairy tale, after the Prince befriends the Fox, it teaches him the important lesson that made the Prince realize that his rose was his true love.

My reasoning for liking the idea of a Rose Fox character is that I can see them being the reason that not only makes Oscar realize his true feelings for Ruby but Ruby as well.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m really, really liking the idea of Ruby falling in love with Oscar around the same time he’s falling in love with her. I believe in the Little Prince, the Rose acts vain towards the Prince and doesn’t realize how much he means to her until he leaves her alone on his journey, right?

Well, imagine if…it’s the same with our Rosebuds. Imagine if…at first Ruby is rather ignorant of her growing feelings for Oscar and downplays it to it simply being that he is her friend and she cares deeply about him.

However when Rose Fox makes her interest in Oscar known, Ruby uncharacteristically finds her strongly disliking Rose’s romantic advances to woo Oscar. Rose even lets it slip to Ruby that she does have a crush on Oscar; not in a manner of her trying to antagonize Ruby but purely out of Rose wanting to befriend Ruby seeing as she is the new Rose in his life and from one Rose to another, she was hoping she and Ruby could be friends as well.

And at first, Ruby didn’t mind Rose---albeit slightly jealous of her knowing more about Oscar than she did (however Oscar made up for that by telling Ruby everything about him with the two bonding from that reveal). But besides that, the two Roses got along especially since they both shared one commonality---their care for Oscar.

I love the idea of Ruby coming to realize her feelings through a character like Rose Fox. Imagine…Ruby suffering a parallel to the Rose from the Little Prince where when she’s threatened to losing Oscar, even if it’s to another Rose, she is suddenly fuelled with a sense of envy she’s never experienced before. Ruby Rose, for the most part, has always been spirited, passionate and kind to those around her.

Can you picture Ruby being selfish, vain and/or a bit manipulative in the pursuit of ensuring she keeps something or…someone she doesn’t wish to lose to another or anything else? No. Not really.

Do you think she’s void of these kinds of emotions? Not in the slightest.

As a matter of fact, if the prospect of losing Oscar to another Rose turns Ruby into an arrogant girl then this would bring her closer to Salem than she’s ever been. But we all know Ruby isn’t like that. She’s nothing like Salem. However, it could be potentially interesting to see her character temporarily fall pray to these desires only to be brought back by the people who help keep her grounded. Her friends.

If Ruby becomes like this, then I can see Oscar giving her a good scolding to bring her back to her former self. I can even picture Jaune doing that since Jaune knows what it’s like to come out the sore loser in the pursuit of one’s affections. It was the same for him with Weiss and Neptune.

But while Jaune never told Weiss the truth of his feelings, he did help Neptune with his. And I can see Jaune providing Ruby with the same advice. This can be a great example to highlight the core big brother dynamic Jaune shares with Ruby.

Maybe in seeing Jaune comforting Ruby, Oscar gets the wrong idea about their relationship. Then again, I’ll admit that I am NOT a fan of Oscar being jealous of Jaune because he believes he and Ruby are in love or something.

I dislike that fan theory just as much as I dislike the thought of Qrow and Yang having a problem with Oscar having a crush on Ruby.

For how much I’ve talked about it before, you all know how much I’d prefer if Jaune and Oscar share a big brother-little brother dynamic too and harbour a great sense respect for one another. I don’t mind if the plot demands Oscar misinterpreting the Lancaster friendship as romance but not in the sense where he reacts immaturely to it as I’ve read in one or two fanfictions on the subject.

Thus far, Oscar has been shown to possess a level of maturity beyond his years. He generally handles his problems rather casually (albeit a little too casually) and even if he is to have an outburst, it’s usually after an extended period where he surprisingly manages to keep his emotions in tact only speaking out when its reached overwhelming levels that he can’t ignore.

I cannot picture Oscar to be the jealous type to act like a petulant child, throwing tantrums just because Ruby isn’t giving him enough attention. Does that sound like Oscar Pine the RWBY character? Not to this squiggly Pinehead. If this is sadly somehow how he ends up becoming then I will only shake my head in disappointment at the mishandling of an otherwise mature young character.

If anything Oscar strikes me as the type to be silent with his jealousy; choosing to brood internally while doing his best to keep his envy contained. But as mentioned, if it reaches its peak then he’ll probably lash out in one big upsurge that will leave him embarrassed but unapologetically unabashed since these are his true feelings and he can’t run away from them especially if they get to this level.

Anyways, that being said, even if Oscar unintentionally lashes out at Jaune out of jealousy, I feel like it’ll have the same outcome where they’ll both be able to talk it out like brothers. As a matter of fact, I feel like Oscar and Jaune could have a similar talk akin to Victor Krum and Harry Potter in the Goblet of Fire after Krum accuses Harry of cavorting with Hermione who Krum is interested in. But that’s just me.

On a final note, I’m not sure if the possibility of Rose Fox for RWBY is in the cards. However I think she would have made a great character. I like the idea of another Rose helping our Rose to see the truth in her feelings about Oscar. For me, I love this headcanon just for the likelihood of hearing a Rose Fox character say something like this to Ruby Rose:

“…I tried to tame him. I thought if we spent more time together like we used to then at some point he would look at me the way he looks at you. But he never did. He always looks to you even when he’s with me. It’s my fault really for trying to gain the love of someone whose heart has already been tamed by someone else. I may be the Rose he likes but I’m not the Rose he loves…”

It’s moments like these that really make me wish I was a CRWBY Writer just so I can chuck this line of dialogue in Miles and Kerry’s faces because it’s a sweet ass line. Makes me like my fanon Rose Fox girl even more now.

Bonus if Rose Fox is actually a Faunus. I really dig the idea of Oscar’s first friend back home being a Faunus girl. Perhaps…Rose’s family were the only Faunus in Oscar’s old neighbourhood and there were some folk back there who were rather prejudice toward the Faunus. However Oscar’s family weren’t one of those people and raised their son to be the same.

Oscar was always pleasantly nice to Rose which was part of the reason why she liked him so much. The day she started crushing on Oscar was when he complimented her ears after some of the neighbourhood children made fun of Rose for being a Faunus.

If I had to describe my vision for Rose Fox then I can picture her with shoulder-length reddish-brown hair that’s white at the tips like a fox’s tail with dark skin and blue-grey eyes to contrast with Ruby’s silver eyes. Her Faunus feature would her ears so she’ll have cute red Fox ears. I actually quite like this.

But you know, as always, these are only my Pinehead headcanons.

Anyways, if Ruby and Oscar are destined to fall in love with each other then I can only see them coming to realize their true feelings with a little help from a fox.

More Squiggles’ RWBY Content

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

#squiggles answers: rwby #rwby #oscar pine #ruby rose #rwby rosegarden #rwby theories #pinehead headcanons #squiggles pinehead headcanons #rwby: defining rose fox

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 7 years

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TF2 - Demo/Spy

A certain artist loves this pairing, so I threw this together in chat for them. - - - - - --

-Title: Explosive Decompression -

. . . . .

He hardly dared to breathe, lest it shatter the fragile moment that the universe had spun between them. Demo's expression seemed surprised, stricken, oddly conflicted yet awed, as they stared.

Spy could not seem to wrench his gaze from the man's eye, the shape of his jaw, his ever-smiling mouth and those lips... They were slightly ajar now, as the Scotsman tried to process whatever this was, happening right now between the two mercenaries. So stock-still that Spy immediately felt his heart, previously beating so hard he could have sworn Demo would hear it pounding away in fear; now sink to the pit of his stomach.

They should not have done this. It was unprofessional, to allow someone like himself to imbibe enough to become rather tipsy; not drunk, just... relaxed enough that he might answer a question directly, rather than with his usual level of mystique and subterfuge.

Spies must take in many secrets, and keep them caged between their teeth; for letting them out could prove disastrous. Their job was to ruin people, topple governments, blackmail, coerce, change the world for good or ill depending on who paid your wages... and to let out any of that information could be a crippling blow to your professional occupation.

But to let slip something personal, that was to sign your death warrant. It gave others power that they could, and would use against you.

Many spies from before, men and women with impeccable abilities that dared to dream of a normal life and settling down, who had confided in others about their pasts... who watched former adversaries hold weapons to their loved ones, or heard the people they trusted sell them out for money, for favours, for praise and promotion.

He would never have thought to allow such a thing to happen. He was above such things, and although he loved a woman once, just enough to foster silent fantasies of raising their son safe from the world and its perils... he had always known they were just that. Dreams. Fantasies. Comforting lies that helped you sleep at night.

Divorce yourself from attachments and emotions, remove all ties to living beings, let yourself feel nothing but satisfaction in your work. Each kill a thrill, every blackmail or topple bureaucracy a sadistic delight... let that fuel your desire to survive. For nothing else was allowed...

He had loved her, once. In a time far removed from the now; and even so, pangs of what once was, could have been in a different world, radiated through his chest. Especially on difficult nights of loss or hollow victory... in this endless game of war, where life and death held no meaning.

And he should have let that be it, be content with a hollow want for something long since out of his reach... and yet, even though he remained detached, curt, calculatingly cold and indifferent to the other mercenaries of RED...

In an effort of preservation; for himself, for their sakes too, one would surmise.

Even though he tried to be aloof and alone, as suited a Spy... the team wormed their way in. Conflicts were rife in the beginning, and sometimes there were feuds and spats that lasted months between various classes... but for every fight, so too was there interaction, learning, an odd familiarity that settled into the bones.

As one would expect when you lived and died alongside one another every single day for years without end. Only the scenery changed more frequently than the mercenaries' attitudes towards one another.

He could tolerate the stinking bushman's presence now, a man of few words but deeper insights was intriguing if you ignored the whole... 'jarate' utilisation nonsense. No sane person would collect their urine in jars and throw it on people, as far as Spy was concerned.

Medic was eccentric, but wrapped up in Heavy and his birds; always covered in blood and ready to tell a story of his wilder days as a mercenary medico. Snatching bodies and organs for the hell of it, the way he flayed flesh for revenge... Spy had learned many things from the man, in retrospect. Useful, should he need to... interrogate someone rather stringently in the future.

Heavy seemed dense, until you spoke to him in another language, and Spy had had the chance to polish several of his language skills with that man. A welcome surprise...

He detested Engineer, however. Too friendly, open, everything Spy was not... and the way the man so swiftly adopted the role of paternal figure to both the Pyro and his so-... the Scout, irked him. How dare he? Ugh, Americans and their apple-pie idealism. Disgusting, to his sensibilities.

Soldier was a unique man, under the brusque outward persona. To have been so resourceful in hunting nazi scum, even though his country denied him the resources to do so... it had intrigued Spy. Surely there was more than yelling and misquoting Sun Tzu? It had been a fun diversion, when they first arrived on base; going through the others' files. Everything about them laid bare in red folders filled to the brim with documentation... excepting the Pyro, of course.

An enigma Spy was loathe to solve, as the mask-wearing pyromaniac set his nerves on edge whenever nearby. The BLU firebug had a fondness for burning him as often as possible... and Spy did not ever see himself becoming best friends with the RED look-a-like.

Of course, he knew Scout was... Yes. He knew. Telling him, however, was out of the question; their first encounter with one another left Spy feeling that the boy was an abhorrent mistake. A child with a loud mouth, bad attitude and an accent so thick it could choke a man... how could this be his?

He had been far more severe and unforgiving on that boy, compared to any of the others, in all honesty. Until more recently. The brash attitude had mellowed somewhat, now that the brat knew he had a place here and his inferiority complex didn't act up so frequently. Demanding that Scout bignote himself, be reckless, make so much noise and mess that the whole world had to stop and acknowledge his presence before he could calm down... assured that he was seen.

Spy knew that was partially his fault. No father, seven older brothers and a mother who split her time between parenthood and assassinations? Of course he turned out this way... But such knowledge had not shorted out the Frenchman's disdain of the boy on sight.

However now... they seemed to coexist, neither voicing what they both seemed to know. And if Spy ever found out which teammate told the boy of his paternity, then no god will save them from what he will do... Spy had hoped to tell the boy... in a mythical 'one day' that he would never allow to come. Indeed, one such altercation and hollow accusation of, "You're not my dad!" had contributed to this very situation in which he now found himself.

Of all the mercenaries, Spy found himself becoming more and more intrigued by the Demolitions man, or 'Demo'. The man merged the scientific and supernatural almost frequently, and his backstory was always fascinating to pretend you weren't listening to.

And he had a knowing, about him. "I've got a canny sense for some things, lad." he'd once said to Scout, who was asking Demo how in the hell he could guess that the bluer-than-it-had-a-right-to-be sky was going to be covered in dark, brooding clouds within the next hour or so. He had been correct, actually, it had stormed for several days so severely matches were cancelled until it ceased.

You could see in his eyes, in the slight tinge of a smile in his upturned lips, when he had seen something others had not yet. It made Demo the prime suspect in Spy's investigation as to who had told Scout about his father... And yet, this preternatural ability was as fascinating to Spy, as it was a curse for Demo.

As time passed, the Frenchman found he gravitated to the warmth of Demo's tone, his welcoming nature, could stand cloaked and watch the man tinker with his weaponry for hours in an almost trance-like tranquillity... he was peaceful like that, sometimes. Of course, he was also very much a lit powder-keg; not unlike the bombs he unleashed on the BLUs.

His knowing, the strange things that happened in his life before RED and all the things he never spoke about, like his family, the things you could see in the haunted shadows of his eyes... Those things were like a beacon to Spy; he was a curious person, as Spies often tend to be, and he could not help but build rapport in hopes of unlocking this mystery.

Demo drank. It was a huge joke to some, to make out that he did nothing but imbibe 'scrumpy' all the time. Though Spy knew different. He observed, he knew, he saw. There was a difference between celebratory drunk Demo, and social drinker Demo; and they were both far removed from the near-catatonic, slurring drunk Demo became when he thought no one could see, when whatever haunted him became too much.

It was... close to home.

Spy had been there... only he had switched to cigarettes, and wine; over... what he had once chosen to drown the memories in, instead. It didn't work for long, especially not if you had to put up a facade the whole time as well. Eventually you accepted the past as it was, horrors intact; or you broke, became beyond repair, by your own hand.

And... though he dared not voice even the vaguest notion of sentimentality... Spy had felt disinclined to allow Demo to take that ruinous path. Not while it could be prevented.

Spy was a people-person; it was his trade, refined manners and a natural charm allowed for it to be so. Gaining Demo's trust, however, had felt... more challenging than he was used to. The man could sense someone being disingenuous from across the room, so Spy had to step lightly, work carefully.

It began, not with a conversation, but the end of one. Spy happened upon drunken Demo, sorrowful and slouching, one night in the common room; something about the day had triggered a memory for him, and he'd been morose all evening. At least, under the fake smile he'd pasted on for the other mercenaries, who seemed to have only the slightest of inklings that something was amiss.

They had been a team for nearly a year, by now. Such a long time, and as yet many of the classes were all but strangers to one another. Or rather, like roommates that went to all the same classes, but somehow managed to miss each other in leisure time; except on rare occurrences.

Each class had interacted, and some had stronger bonds than others, but cohesion was a distant dream as of yet. It would take several more months, at the very least, despite the best efforts of the ever-hospitable Engineer and his perpetual barbecue get-togethers.

However, time would tell.

Spy saw Demo properly in that moment, surmised the situation, and told the man straight up, that Spy was going to put him to bed. He was a stinking mess, but that would be the problem of whichever hapless Mann Co. laundry service dealt with their blood-stained clothing and used bedding. Spy didn't care for the details...

In truth, he did. And knew them well. A subsidiary company, part of a chain of cleaning services, called 'Cooee Cleaners' took their laundry four times a fortnight and returned it within six hours. Spy knew when, where and how they did so; and what contracts each of the delivery persons had signed in order to be paid, and not... disposed of via a pink slip and Miss Pauling's pistol.

He rather liked the details, actually.It was his nature.

However, the situation had resolved with the Demolitions expert tucked in bed sans his boots; and Spy aware that he now had an inroads with the man. Whether the Scot recalled the exact events of the night before, or not.

Indeed he did, given the anxiety-tinged glances Demo probably assumed he was covertly throwing at Spy, all throughout breakfast. Trying to gauge whether the night before was real, or if Spy had a good, helpful twin who altruistically tried to ruin the Frenchman's sinister mystique.

He found himself cornered, after battle that day, but the concerned man. Demo was of his game, somewhat; having been blown through respawn a few dozen times in the first five minutes of battle, and things not improving from there on in.

"Look, whatever I said tae ye, could ye forget it?" he'd asked, tone laden with anxiety. It was so out of character, Spy nearly forgot to paste a smug look on his face.

"Oh?" he'd replied, "But I do so love getting new information on my teammates..."

But the normal deflection seemed not to have worked, as usual. Demo had gained that look, the one he associated with his 'canny feeling', and the expression went from concerned to pensive in a heartbeat.

"Aye..." he finally responds, "That ye do, Laddie. Well, ye'd best come along with me then, so we can talk about it... I dinnae want ye dogging my every step to find out why I drink. And I think we both know ye will..."

Spy had nodded. He was discrete, but when something interesting strayed across his path, Spy would chase it to the end of the line...

And so, Demo had taken them to his lab. Fidgeting, tinkering, moving pieces about as if the tactile task somehow helped. Perhaps it did. Spy would often play with his balisong, flicking it open and shut when he was deep in thought. And he had noticed... Scout tended to always do something with his hands when talking, or thinking; it was an invisible thread between them that he found highly amusing and yet, oddly endearing.

Finally... Demo had sighed, sagging in his chair, and gestured for the Frenchman to sit on the chair adjacent the explosive expert. He fumbled for the right starting point for a moment, but finally began... at the beginning, and did not stop until long into the early hours of the night.

Spy was astounded, surprised, sceptical, and slightly off-kilter by this sudden torrent of volunteered information. Certainly, there was the human desire to reciprocate, a story for a story, that he tamped down. A question, as to when he'd earned enough trust from the man to warrant such a telling; Demo was as stubborn as Scout in many ways, and could have easily fobbed of Spy's persistent inquiries if he wanted.

And there was, too, an unease roiling in the pit of his stomach at the conclusion of their one-sided conversation. Spy would never have revealed so much, such personal information; and now he knew everything in intricate detail, about Demo... no, Tavish, before him.

Knowing things made you dangerous. Knowing about governments, about the secrets of high ranking officials... made you dangerous. But knowing details about the people around you, personal information, made you a threat to them. What if it was tortured out of you?

Of course, Spy had doubted foreign agencies would be interested in the time eight-year-old Tavish got detention for blowing up the science lab at school, but you never knew these days. Torture had evolved, and Spy had played no small hand in its evolution.

Still, it had changed the dynamics.

He knew so much of Demo, of Tavish DeGroot, and the mystical, mathematical world he came from... and the man knew practically nothing of him. Certainly, Spy had weasled such information out of wooed socialites, high ranking officials and whomsoever else he had to seduce or coerce in order to complete his mission... but that was different.

Demo had laughed, when he'd stopped talking. "Ye don't need to tell me anything ye're not ready to, Spook... ain't the way you lot do things, is it? Spies?"

He'd felt his lip curl up in amusement as he'd deadpanned, "Non, monsieur DeGroot." before bidding the man goodnight, and cloaking. Stealing away to his own bed, to compartmentalise.

And it had been the knowing that drew him back again and again. Demo had lived a life so different, yet so full of the strange and indescribable, that it was like an odd reflection of Spy's own.

He'd even questioned if the interest was a sign of inherent narcissism, at one point. However, Spy eventually dismissed the theory, the more he started to notice things about the other man... dangerous things.

The light in his eye when a new idea struck, the pride in his tone when congratulating a teammate on a kill or capture, the vengeful angel he became when the same were being mercilessly dominated in battle...

The grace of those rough, scarred hands. How they gently coaxed colatile materials into harmonic alignment, ready to be employed in battle; yet those same hands could knock a man's head clean off his shoulders when necessary. The duality was...

Well, Spy never let himself linger on the nature of those hands for long enough to choose a word for the feeling it gave. Emotions were problematic, at best, and it did no one any good to dwell on phantom feelings.

Still, he noticed. Little things, words, cadence, interactions, moods. Spy could tell by the tightness around Demo's eyes if he was caught in dark thoughts; in the same way he knew that, if Medic was smiling brightly, someone was about to play operation with him.

Things built.

From Spy watching the man work uncloaked, in silence... to simply visiting, and listening to anecdotes, stories, odd ideas and some accusations, it must be said.

"You ever going to tell him?" Demo had startled Spy with, not so many days ago. "The lad?"

"He knows." Spy monotones, recovering swiftly.

"Big difference between knowing something, and having it said aloud, having it confirmed. Not to push ye, but it... might make a difference to both of ye." Demo pressed, and then let it be, when Spy went silent. Eventually switching to a different topic altogether, as if the conversation before had never been.

However, it left Spy wondering what else the man could be picking up on. Of course Demo would have noticed the similarities, the inherent characteristics they both denied were even vaguely similar to one another's. Tavish just tended to know these things... not to say he was not a highly intelligent man who could work it out if he wanted to, but his intuition could trump thinktanks the world over.

And if the man had noticed, in what was not spoken, that Scout was his son... what else had he gleaned from Demo?

Then, like an arrow to the heart he suddenly wondered if it really was that terrible to have someone know certain personal information about him. If it was truly so horrifying a concept, when he thought about it...

And that was more startling than anything else that had occurred. The last time Spy had even considered such a thing was-... well... Her. But that was because he lo-... oh, oh no.

It was four am on a rainy Thursday night, and he had made a realisation that could shatter his nonchalant facade if it should get out or be acted upon openly. No, Spy could allow nothing of the sort... he would simply, ignore it.

Like always, such was was the life of an espionage agent. And so, resolved, the man had resolutely fallen asleep thinking of nothing, save how he would backstab the BLU Sniper the following day... in retribution for all the many, many impeccable suits lost to jarate attacks.

Of course, the complication came in the form of Demo's friendly offer to 'have a drink'. Usually, such invitations were a formality, underhandedly meaning that Spy was free to drop by the workshop later on, or even Demo's room, and talk. As he had a habit of doing after battle, these days...

Outwardly, he had raised an eyebrow, as if questioning. Scout had loudly laughed and made a rather crude joke about Spy being uptight, and how Demo would need far more alcohol than was available on the base to get the guy to 'hang out', much less 'relax'.

Both the older men suppressed their amusement at that statement. But when the siren went off to leave spawn, and Scout had disappeared into the wind as he often did, Spy met Demo's eyes... and nodded, before cloaking.

He would be there.

And so he was. Triumphant, the team had crowed and delighted in their victory through dinner and into the night. Spy had personally killed his rival four out of five times prior to being taken down by the BLU Soldier, so he was in high spirits and open to merriment.

"There you are, thought ye'd bloody forgot!" Demo greets, swinging open the door of the workshop and gesturing to the armchair Spy had mysteriously gotten hold of and had placed in the room for his visitations. He had contacts all over the world, he'd assured, and a comfortable seat was nothing compared to what he could get with a single phonecall to the right people.

Perhaps it was the merriment, a break in the week's losing streak, or it could be simply that he had started to trust in the Demolitions expert... but, Spy felt quite relaxed tonight. Did not even think to guard his thoughts, filter his words, or wonder where the first two glasses of wine had gone...

Sipping champagne or a good vintage wine during an evening by the fire, or whilst seducing a target was one thing... a moderated act, false sips, all compliments and distractions as the other starts to let slip the secrets you seek. This... this was another.

Spy could feel the edges of the world become a little softer, somewhat fuzzier and kinder than they'd been in years. It flagged a warning with his survival instincts, but whatever alarm it caused was muted at best, and tamped down upon at the persistent thought that Demo was not a threat.

Indeed, the man was the opposite, especially on the field. How many times had a stickybomb trap saved the Spy, recently? BLU were getting uncannily good at spotting disguised spies, and it meant he tended to die a lot more frequently...

Wait...

He reeled a little, mentally repeating his slightly convoluted chain of thought. Demo was not a threat?

Demo was not a threat.

Alright, that was easily settled.

Actually, Demo was looking at him in concern. He cocked slightly to the side, and brow furrowed; looking at Spy, like he was a bomb with a misaligned screw somewhere in the design.

"Uh, when was the last time ye got more than a wee bit buzzed from your fancy grape juice, Spook?" Tavish asks, somewhat bluntly.

Spy opens his mouth to reply, but an ugly snort of laughter escapes instead. "Fancy grape juice, mon cheri, I will 'ave you know that some of my wine collection are older than everyone on this team combined!"

"...not a point in their favour, to be honest, lad. Old stuff tends to go off, if ye havenae noticed..." Demo teases, plain on his smirking face.

"Wine ages gracefully, Demo... the older it gets, the more potent and delectable. Very few humans can say the same of themselves..." Spy retorts, laying it on thick at the end to sound mysterious and wise, even though some part of his mind was still stuck on how funny 'fancy grape juice' was as a wine descriptor.

"If ye say so..." Demo rolls his eye, reaching for his bottle instead. His hand pauses on the cusp of grasping it as a thought strikes, eye narrowing to a considering squint. "Oi, ye weren't taking a dig at me spare tire with the aging gracefully comment, were ye? Cause I'll have ye know... I've still got enough muscle to toss ye like a javelin across the battlefield if ye're feeling cheeky..."

Spy nearly spat his mouthful of red wine across the room. "Non. My intention was complimentary, I assure you... I 'ave only known few humans to grow steadily more attractive as the yeas past. We are supposed to decay, and yet, beauty persists in the most unlikely of places..."

There was a pause as he thought about it. "You should 'ave seen Scout's mother when we met, nearly twenty-seven years ago now, I did not even know a word to describe her beauty... and it infuriates me more with every growing year."

"Och, don't sell yeself short, laddie, I bet you're not that bad off under that mask of yours..." Demo responds, skipping casually over the fact Spy just revealed something incredibly personal about himself for no real reason.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Spy teases, automatically, before covering his own mouth in horror. "I think I 'ave had more to thought than I drink..."

It was too late, Demo was already in hysterics, and the mis-worded sentence only added to his amusement at the situation.

"I think ye have, Spook, can't even get your sentences the right way 'round, can ye?" the Scotsman beams.

"Perhaps..." Spy relents, "Or maybe I just 'ave not thought to let someone else in for a long time... and the wine 'elps somewhat."

Which immediately stifles Demo's laughter. An unintended side-effect of the gravity of Spy's statement.

Tactfully, he says, "Aye, drink'll do that to ye... loosen tongues and let secrets slide on out. I'd warrant ye have quite a few of those rattling around in your head, eh?"

Spy's lip curls up in amusement. "Oh, oui, mon ch-... amie. But if I told you... I would 'ave to kill you and all that dreary nonsense. I'd much prefer your company..."

Demo pounces on the statement like a cat on string. "Oh, would ye now, Spook? Thought ye couldn't stand me to start with... now I get front-row seats to your little secret-spilling show, and I wouldnae miss it for the world."

"It is, unfortunate that my occupation requires such secrecy, Tavish, but... it is as it is." Spy returns, sombrely. Like the words were bitter in his mouth, and he wanted rid of them. "There is much I can never say... even to those I care for deeply, for their safety I must not exist to them. Silence is a far sharper knife than any argument can ever be... even if both parties understand the logic of why."

Demo swirled the bottle, watching the liquid slosh about; a tiny alcoholic ocean thrown mercilessly against the green glass sides, as he mulled over the statement. It wasn't unexpected, but Spy was not one to make such statements lightly; sober or blackout drunk.

"And that is why Scout did not 'ave a father in his life, Demo. Why I had to let his darling mother, mon cheri, go before we got too tangled in emotions to do so. Before they became targets for the things I know, have done, will do... espionage is not at all as exciting as those silly Spy films make it seem. The pretty girls and boys you seduce will be followed by the old, the ugly and the cruel; some you kill, others you must keep alive. It all depends on the mission, and you feel nothing for any of them... you cannot, or it will ruin what you are. Your edge."

Demo does not interject as Spy pauses for breath, for reflection. Just nods along, having seen this storm cloud building from the moment the other man picked up the second glass of wine.

"If you are detached, tell noone anything... learn no secrets but those you are sent to find, then you will hurt no one when retribution finds you." Spy explains, as best he can. "There are few I can tell about anything, about my life and what I have seen, done, learned, lost... it puts them in danger. Mon cheri understood, she has been there herself but found a way to change her fate... a way I cannot follow. So we parted, amicably, if regretfully. And even here, to protect even that happy-go-lucky fool the Engineer, I cannot speak to anyone. But you," he jabs a finger at Demo, "you 'ave a way of making people want to tell you things."

For a split-second, Demo wrinkles his nose in offence, but seemingly decides to let it go. Spy is venting, and to be fair he does have that effect on people. That sense of his saw people confess odd things to him all the time... he couldn't turn it off, though.

"You just... told me all about yourself, everything! And I couldn't stop myself from listening... I should 'ave, to keep you safe, but your voice was-..." Spy coughs, "I mean to say, the tale was fascinating in no uncertain terms."

"Oh sure, just the tale and not the handsome devil telling it to ye, gotcha." Demo beams, giving an exaggerated wink in the drunken Spy's direction.

It earned him a frustrated scowl. "Exactly!" shouts Spy, tossing his hands up haphazardly and nearly slopping wine all over the place.

That pulls the Scot up short. "Ye what now?" he probes, trying to clarify if he's drunk too much or Spy has.

"You... are a very aesthetic-... aestheti-.... beautiful man, Tavish. We both know this, do not deny it; I have seen many people, conventionally attractive and decidedly not, in my life... and you are one of those awful humans that ages gracefully like wine. And you can captivate with your personality, your stories are exciting and informative, your hands are-... I mean, your expressions are always fluid and you are a fascinating creature to behold."

Spy pauses, staring at his almost-empty wine glass in accusation.

"You have no idea how much I want to tell people things, but most of all you, you attractive idiot of a man... with your friendship, and your physique and your-... your-..." he stammers off, looking for a word, only to suddenly freeze.

The gravity of his words seemed to sink in, for the first time that night, and Spy's heart begins to race. Fight or flight is taking over; restless energy floods his body, demanding the espionage agent cloak and retreat. But he cannot.

Everything in the room is trapped in this odd, ethereal moment where not even air seems to exist. He loathes how saccharine it feels, how cliche... and yet, what other descriptors are there?

It was like being paralysed in amber, as his eyes latched onto Demo's face; saw the shock there, and ascribed it to be negative of meaning, in his mind. Demo was staring back, a feature-length film of emotions whirring across his features too fast for Spy's less-than-sober mind to keep up with.

Spy couldn't think of anything to say to defuse the situation, every elongated moment of silence making his heart sink further into his stomach. He couldn't quite find the energy to make his hand stop reaching for the cloaking watch, though... Rigorously ignoring the thought that, even if he got away now, there was always tomorrow, or the next... when they would be face to face.

Of course he had had people rebuke his attempts at seduction, and even a few his active affections... but this was inherently different. Demo wasn't saying anything, doing anything... he was just still. It was eerie.

"Don't."

The words snaps him out of the elongated scene, as does the warm hand caught fast around his wrist, effectively blocking out the watch. Demo's grip could easily release, if Spy gave even the slightest indication he was going to cloak and leave anyway.

Spy stays his hand, feeling very much the foolish deer in headlights; something he hasn't felt in... so long, he almost forgot what it was like to be vulnerable. To be like this, open to rejection, without his usual wall of cynicism and apathy blocking it out.

He must have had too much to drink. It happened, sometimes things just come out when inhibitions are lowered...

"It's... uh, well..." Demo stammers, clearly attempting to be the diplomatic one here since Spy's normal suave tact is utterly failing him.

"You do not 'ave to respond," Spy manages. "And you need not give sympathy or express sentiment... I made a mistake, in admitting something personal, and we can both forget it."

"Oh, can we now?" Demo queries, raising an eyebrow with a strange quality to his tone. "Just go back to the way things are, even though I know?"

Spy nods, looking slightly over the other's left shoulder, expression tight and guarded once more. "If that is what you wish."

"Well," says Demo, dropping Spy's wrist and crossing his arms. "And what if I don't bloody want to, eh?"

"That is... also your choice." Spy interjects, voice monotonous and yet somehow defensive.

Demo wags a finger at him, "I wasnae finished talking laddie. Perhaps, I dinnae want to forget about the fact the bloke I've been trying to woo for the last six bloody months has finally worked out he likes me back under all that emotional repression. What if I want to act on that, instead, hey?"

Spy nearly falls over, but recovers as swiftly as he can. "Would you... care to repeat that, mon amie?"

Demo glares at him. "You're bloody right I do care to, and what's this 'my friend' business about, Spook? You've been accidentally calling me 'mon cheri' for months, had to ask Heavy what it meant and he nearly choked on his sandvich telling me..."

That vivid mental image alone shatters the tension in the room as both occupants laugh aloud.

"Ah, but seriously boyo... you're not all that subtle after a wee bit of time living with the same people. Get to know your eccentricities... and you're as messed up as Scoot is, with your emotions. But if I'd known all it'd take was some fancy wine juice to get you to admit you were hankering for all this..."

He gestures to all of him in a sweeping motion that nearly sends the emotionally-exhausted Frenchman into hysterics again.

"I would have bloody bought you a tank full ages ago... save all this pining and self-realisation nonsense. Ye looked like I was gonnae kill ye just before, when you blurted it out..." Demo adds, thoughtfully.

Trying to piece everything back together mentally, Spy clears his throat. "You never know how people will react, these days, and you are good with explosives..."

"Good? I'm brilliant, Spook! And if ye want, I can show you I'm pretty good at another type of banging..." He accompanies the statement with a lewd grin that lightens the mood and finally dissipates the last shred of tension from the room.

Spy groans and drops his face into his hands. "Why am I attracted to you again?"

"Uh, dunno, ye didn't finish your long litany of the bits of me you like best... got to the hands and ye stopped, didn't even get to my perky ar-..."

This time Spy covers Demo's mouth. "Finish that sentence and I will leave you here alone..." he sighs dramatically, "How will I ever take you in public like this?"

Demo grins and mumbles something. Spy moves his hand to hear him better.

"I said, I can behave if I want to... in public, that is. Probably at one of those upper-class, posh restaurants you like too... the ones with fourteen spoons and expensive old fancy grape juice..."

Some part of Spy despaired at that phrase, but it was subsumed by the odd surge of amusement he felt at the casual way the conversation was flowing positively between them. Gently eroding the spiky emotional chaos of a few moments earlier.

"Please... do not ever use that phrase again, especially in public." he asks, tone slightly strained.

And Demo laughs back. "Anything for you, Spook... uh... actually..."

There it is, Spy had been waiting for the question.

"...if we adopt Scout, do you want to be Dad, or Daddy?" Demo asks, tone entirely innocent, and shiteating grin clearly stating he was enjoying the way Spy suddenly lost the last shreds of composure.

Alright that was decidedly NOT the question he had been anticipating. Spy let out his horrifying laugh, which he personally detested; sometimes he snorted or giggled oddly, and he hated it.

Demo pokes him in the cheek. "Cute laugh you got there Spook..."

"Oh shut up, Demo..." Spy finally calms down enough to say, waving off the other. "That was not what I thought you were going to ask, mon cheri..."

"No, but your face was bloody funny when I did. Or I think it is... hard to tell with-... nevermind." Demo smiles, suddenly realising that the base is very quiet and they're quite close together.

"No, do ask your question, if you have an actual one that is..." Spy invites, hands busily sliding under the mask hem. Meticulous in their removal.

"Well, and ye dinnae have to give me an answer now if ye wanna keep the whole secret identity thing going for a wee bit longer but... you know my name..." Demo leads.

"Indeed, Tavish, mon cheri." Spy smirks back, sans mask.

Demo nearly chokes at the sudden revelation, at how closely he had imagined it, based on mental mapping of the features beneath the identity-concealing mask. He clears his throat when Spy raises an eyebrow in query as to why he'd paused.

"Well, ye know my name... and I was kind of wondering if it'd be okay to know yours?" Demo asks, expression hopeful but trying not to be.

There it was.

Spy had been waiting.

He leans in quite close. "Of course, mon cheri... my name is," he leaned in to whisper hotly into the Scotsman's ear, before pulling back with a killer grin. "And I would adivse you not forget it... you will be screaming it later tonight..."

Then, in the space of a heartbeat... there's a kiss on his lips, something in his hand, and Spy has disappeared.

Demo clutches tightly at the mask, holding onto the physical reminder that everything that just happened was not just an elaborate fantasy... and beams through tingling lips.

This was going to be an adventure.

---------------

The End

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I hope this makes sense bc it is 5am and I wrote this trash in a blur Need to edit it

#tf2 #spy #demo #spy/demo #camiluna27

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