Hello, everyone, Ed here. It's been quite some time since I wrote an A/N on this site...
As you may have discerned, this is the last chapter of Strikeout. As such, I just wanted to extend a huge thank-you to all you people who read (and, if I'm understanding from your reviews correctly, mostly enjoyed) my first attempt at writing for TF2. Seriously, you guys are way too nice to me.
Thanks loads for the encouragement and constructive criticism (largely regarding Soldier, who's harder to write than you'd think), and for just generally being wonderful people. This is the last story I'll be posting to this site, but if you want to see more of my work (including TF2 fanart by yours truly) check out root-beer-vampire . deviantart . com (minus spaces). Y'all are awesome and thanks one more time.
I'm glad you enjoyed Strikeout and I'm not good at ending these. So thank you again and au revoir, mes amis.
~Ed.

Epilogue—Endgame

"Heeey, Miss P, how's it goin'?"

Her small shoulders stiffened slightly for a split second, then she started down the hall again, ignoring him. The RED Scout wasn't known for his stubbornness for nothing, though. "So guess who was totally dominating that BLU Soldier bastard today?" Without giving her a chance to respond, he answered his own question. "Me, that's who! Pretty great, right?"

"I know, Scout. I saw the logs of today's battle too." Miss Pauling continued walking, her head held high, looking straight ahead and not at the lanky young man sauntering cockily at the edge of her vision. "But I'm busy right now and you aren't supposed to be in the office. I think you'd better go."

"Nah, I'd rather hang out here with a pretty girl like you." He winked at her, and she sighed, getting a feeling of déjà vu. "Besides, it can't be too big of a deal, right? People come in an' out of here all the time."

She finally stopped walking and turned to face him fully. "Look, Scout, I'm not going to mince words here. I'm just not interested. Okay? So just go back to the base and forget we ever had this conversation." Miss Pauling opened the door to her office. "And for your information," she added over her shoulder, "I have a boyfriend." Then she closed the door behind her with a soft click, leaving a crushed Bostonian in her wake.