Just a bit of silliness I wrote on a long roadtrip. If the ending offends you - sorry! :] It's all in pure fun.

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Scout had been particularly annoying lately. Well, from everyone else's point of view at least – from his own, he was just being inquisitive! After all, who knew how long they all had to be around each other? They needed to get to know one another, and that required the most intimate of details.

"So, Pyro – what you got goin'on under that mask, huh? I've never seen you without it! Don't leave a guy hangin', show me. I won't gag at no gross burn scars!" Scout assured a few days prior, out of the blue as he waltzed up to the guy.

Pyro tilted his head up in surprise, only managing a "Mrphh?" before he was set upon. After a minute or two of a violent wrestling match in the battlements, Pyro's muffled yells brought attention to the others; Sniper managed to knock Scout in the head with the butt of his rifle, telling him to knock it off. The boy finally released the headlocked Pyro in a huff, but it sucked! He'd almost seen some charred skin there…

Pyro had run away to hide after that, leaving the rest of the team vulnerable to Scout's attempt to bring them all closer together – or really, to satisfy his own morbid curiosities. But Medic wouldn't tell him if he had really had any Nazi shit left over from the war (he so did), Demoman wouldn't show him his empty eye socket, and Sniper refused to tell him his methods of peeing in a jar without spilling.

No lack of answers seemed to deter Scout, but after several days of prying, he began to get bad vibes from his teammates. Okay, okay, time to wrap it up, then! He had to get at least one question answered, and it had to be a good one. After a whole day of thinking, Scout finally had it. The personal question to end all personal questions. And he knew just who it had to be about – the only person to avoid his probings so far!

"Hey! Anyone know how big Heavy's dick is?"

The breakfast table suddenly quieted to dead silence; even Spy, with a forkful of eggs poised in the air, didn't let the food reach his mouth. Scout had burst in on the pleasant, sleepy morning scene with his usual brand of obnoxious enthusiasm, and with this week's tirade of personal questions, no one was surprised. Or, well, too surprised…

"You, uh – why you wanna go knowin' that, boy? That's his own business." a disgruntled Engineer said slowly, the first to break the heavy silence.

Scout spun a stray spoon between his fingers impatiently, other hand squared on his hip.

"Well, come on! You gonna say you never wondered? I mean, the guy's a fuckin' house! He'd either got a killer shlong or nothin' at all. Hell, maybe he grew so big to make up for little baby-dick he's got! You don't wanna know?! We barely know anythin' else about the guy!"

"We know enough for him to be on our team, mate. He's no sleazy spy – no offense," Sniper added, gesturing to an impassive Spy with his mug, "- and he's on our side. That's all you need tah know. Don't go sniffin' around where you're not wanted..."

Scout ignored Sniper's wise words, shaking his head as he lost his patience. "No, no no! You guys don't even get the spirit of teamwork! You tellin' me none of you ever got a peek of that monster thing in the showers or nothin'? Not the bathrooms neither?"

The awkward silence continued, many of the breakfasters just looking at each other and slowly beginning to start eating, trying to ignore Scout altogether. Soldier, who had never stopped shoveling food into his face for a second throughout the interrogation, finally stopped to slam his plate on the table.

"Listen up!" he snapped, pointing a speared hashbrown at Scout, "We don't need no more of your questions, kid! That's an order! A man's got his privacy and his private parts – besides, you're acting like a faggot. You wanna be a faggot, maggot?"

With the rest of the table breaking out into snickers and laughter, they continued into their meal, leaving Scout to fume. Annoyed, he left with a muttered "fuck you guys" and dashed off into the quieter parts of the base. Someone had to know!

He'd found Demoman after much searching, up on the rooftop perfecting his aim with sticky bombs. Once he'd boisterously asked if the Scot knew, though, he was shouted at in a million jibberish curses and bonked in the head with a dud bomb or two – he was the one who did the bonking, damnit! Frustrated, Scout went to Pyro, but the mumbling man threatened his teammate with an axe when the boy got close, still sore about trying to be unmasked. Shit, who else was there? Asking Heavy himself would be fuckin'gay! Asking other people wasn't, though, and there was one guy he hadn't asked yet. Their favorite creepy fuckin' Nazi – he'd know! Medics had to know all sorts of medical shit, right? Doctors wrote that stuff on records, he was sure. Besides, the weirdass Kraut had seen everyone naked at one time or another when healing wounds, the creep.

"Hey, Medic! Open up!"

Scout pounded on the infirmary door, which was locked – odd, for the middle of the day, but Scout thought nothing of it, slamming his bandaged fists harder.

"I got a question for ya!" he shouted through the door, cupping a hand to his mouth. "It's about Heavy! You guys spend a lotta time together, right? So answer me this, pal – is his dick big, or what? The general public wants ta know!"

Grinning cheekily, Scout continued to pound on the door, considering taking out his bat for a few clanging whacks on the sheet metal. That'd get Medic's attention! No need, though, as it seemed the door had just been jammed, not locked. Scout's last smack to the door popped it open, the heavy thing swinging widely to reveal what was inside – Scout just stared.

Medic had heard the door open. So had Heavy. Heavy, who looked over his shoulder, half-naked and seeming utterly unabashed as he glanced at Scout. Medic was nearly as unaffected, clad in nearly nothing but gloves, glasses, and loosened trousers as he stood up from between Heavy's legs to answer the door.

The medic paused as he reached the doorway, rubber glove delicately wiping off the corners of his mouth.

"Yes, Scout. Yes, it iz."

After dashing away as a terrified red blur to hide in his room, Scout never asked his teammates personal questions again.