Flint sat at his desk, holding his head in his palms, massaging his temples, not caring for the scattered documents being rumpled beneath his elbows. Arguing with Lady Jaye took a lot more out of him than he cared to admit, but he always felt it after the fact. In the moment, he felt he had the energy to take on the world, which should have been just enough to deal with her, but it never was. Later he might have to admit to himself that this was because she was in the right, but he certainly wasn't in that mindset yet.
"You know, jealousy is unbecoming of a commanding officer," Duke said, smirking. The blond field commander had missed the morning's fireworks between Flint and Lady Jaye, purposefully – plausible deniability and all, but was pretty certain that the root of the problem was the recent visit by one of Jaye's old professors from Trinity. Well not old, quite young for a professor, young and eligible. Duke and Flint had overheard Cover Girl describing the visitor's accent as 'sexy.' Things had gone further downhill from there.
Flint let escape an annoyed sigh. He had rolled his eyes too but that couldn't be seen by Duke who was standing behind him, ruffling whatever report he was holding. Flint paused and then let out a more resigned sigh.
"Anyway, it's time for lunch, let's just grab a bite to eat and relax a little," Duke backed off a bit. "Then we can go over the results of yesterday's battle simulations."
"No no," Flint lifted his head. "I've wasted enough of the day already. I really should do something about this mess." Flint waved his hand over his desk, indicating the paperwork, a sheet of paper and a few small feathers falling onto the floor. In addition to the work, he knew that Jaye would probably be down at the mess soon and he didn't feel up to another altercation. He wasn't going to tell Duke that though.
"Suit yourself," Duke used the report he was holding to swat Flint on the shoulder in a teasing gesture. He didn't want to press the issue.
"Drop by after lunch and I'll have something on those battle simulations," Flint drearily called after Duke as the first sergeant made his way out the door.
#-#-#-#-#
Cover Girl eyed Duke as he was leaving the mess, boxed lunch in hand. She wouldn't have minded his company as he would probably keep Clutch, who was following along behind her, in check. She let her eyes linger.
This action was not lost on Clutch who grumbled to himself. Duke sure gets the attention of a lot of ladies, he thought, we can't all be the picture of a hero. Some hero too, that guy is always getting himself captured or injured rushing into things and his piloting and driving skills are weak and he's boring.
Clutch didn't hate Duke, he was a teammate, but it was still frustrating. Oh well, Clutch assured himself, in the end girls always leave guys like that for more dangerous guys, such as myself. With that thought, Clutch smiled and put more of a hop in his step as he continued behind Cover Girl to the mess.
Cover Girl's attention shifted to Lady Jaye and Scarlett The two Joe women were further ahead, their offices being closer to the mess than the garages. Cover Girl felt a little left out. It was natural that Jaye and Scarlett would spend more time together, their main specialties being complementary, but with so few women on the team, it stung sometimes.
It wasn't that Cover Girl didn't love her job, where else could she not only tinker with state-of-the-art vehicles but also drive them? She had always had a love of cars. Part of the reason she had gone into modeling in the first place was in hopes of getting closer to new prototypes as an auto show girl. Of course, once in the business, her agent wouldn't have her doing anything like that. Her modeling career had snowballed successfully onward until she came to the realization that it wasn't what she really wanted, no matter how well she was doing. Now she was part of GI Joe, with all sorts of goodies in the garage at her disposal. She liked the air and sea equipment from an intellectual standpoint but she rather be with a tank any day of the week.
At first Cover Girl had eschewed anything remotely feminine. Not only was she tired of being only about appearances and sick of the catty female in-competition that guys just never seemed to understand, but she was facing a lot of chauvinism in the motor pool. Perhaps some of it was her own leftover competitive spirit from the modeling industry, but she was out to show those men that she not only had what it took, but could out-wrench them any day of the week. Eventually she realized her behavior was cutting into her enjoyment and decided to stop stressing over such meaningless things. It helped that she had gotten used to the other military grease monkeys and developed some good defenses to their rough edges. That was when Cover Girl had really propelled herself into someone who would be recruited by GI Joe, when she had stopped sweating the other things and focused on what she loved.
Cover Girl wouldn't call the current balance in her life "indulging her feminine side," so much as just accepting it for what it was. She was much more of a tomboy than a girly-girl but compared to a base full of guys, it seemed feminine sometimes. She missed the simple female companionship. She could count on Jaye and Scarlett if she sought them out, but it wasn't as easy as just having women friends around more often.
#-#-#-#-#
"But really, just read the report," Scarlett said to Lady Jaye as the two neared the mess. The redhead carried a thick stack of reports in her right hand. "Our friends down in the lab learned some really interesting things about that tracking device the Baroness was wearing. You might have some ideas on how we can do similar or better."
"I know, I know," Lady Jaye sighed. "I'll get to it this afternoon. It's been a rough morning."
"Hiya ladies!" Rock 'n Roll jogged up to the pair.
"Hey Rock 'n Roll, what's up?" asked Scarlett.
Lady Jaye waved, "Hey."
"Just grabbin' some sustenance like the two of you," Rock 'n Roll smiled. He held up a quiver of arrows. "By the way Scarlett, picked these up for you down in Supplies, figured it'd save you the trip since you were running low durin' target practice and all."
"Why thank you Rock 'n Roll," said Scarlett as she took the quiver from him by the strap and briefly examined it. "These are a perfect assortment."
"Well the guys down there know you well," Rock 'n Roll conceded humbly, scratching the back of his neck and perhaps even blushing a little.
Lady Jaye smirked to herself. Even though most of the guys on base didn't have any clear intentions towards any of the girls, they seemed to toss out feelers now and again. Part of it was an extension of military courtesy. Old school manners didn't mesh with women being fellow combatants instead of dainty ladies. The women on base, Lady Jaye herself included, got away with quite a lot because the men just didn't seem to know how to treat them. However, Jaye was quite certain that part of it was hope that something more could develop. She certainly felt a distinct drop in attention from everybody else once she started officially dating Flint. Everyone was still more than nice to her, but she could feel the change.
Flint, that stubborn man. Even after the morning's "festivities," as it were, Jaye knew she wouldn't trade him for the adoration of every other man on the base, even the few that were perhaps objectively 'better' than him in whatever trait of his was getting on her nerves at any particular moment. He could keep up with her in a friendly debate. He stood up to her when she was wrong. He comforted her when she needed it. He could take her breath away on the battlefield or on a date. Most of the time their verbal sparring was fun and engaging. They both understood that it wasn't personal, something that Jaye couldn't say for a lot of people she may have argued with intellectually. His arrogance was something she had learned to deal with, perhaps even like at times, but some days it led them to butt heads.
How could someone so arrogant get so jealous? Lady Jaye knew first hand that Flint had his soft undersides to him too, but it still vexed her. She was sure that he would apologize some time in the next few days, realizing he was wrong. She certainly wasn't going to back down on this issue – that would lead the relationship down a controlling path. She had advised classmates at Bryn Mawr and Trinity away from guys who had exhibited that kind of behavior, she sure wasn't going to let her or her beau fall into such a state. Flint was better than that. She was better than that.
Still, it was times like these, when they were in the midst of a fight, that Jaye wouldn't have minded some extra positive attention from everyone else.
#-#-#-#-#
Alpine watched Lady Jaye, Scarlett and Rock 'n Roll enter the mess, wishing he could be there too. Instead, he was doing yet another lap around the PIT, carrying a full pack at that. His stomach hadn't quite figured out it was going to be having a late lunch yet, but he knew he would be feeling it later. Furthermore, anything was better than punishment PT, especially break time.
Usually, Alpine and Bazooka wouldn't be facing such punitive measures, but a series of misfortunes had caused what was supposed to be a small prank to balloon into 20 laps around the base carrying full gear.
With Thanksgiving approaching, Alpine had planned decorate the base appropriately – with live turkeys. It was nothing especially ingenious but it had been a while and everyone had to admit, the turkey is one funny bird. He had planned to have them up on the roof, not in the way of anything but in a place where quite a few people would definitely visit and then be greatly confused. The access points were well monitored and filmed too.
However, Bazooka, that dunderhead, misstepped and the pair went crashing down, crates of turkeys and all, in the hallway in front of Flint's office. Feathers flew everywhere as this drove the stupid birds into a frenzy. Furthermore, who should happen to arrive right then and there and certainly not in a good mood? Flint. They were quickly ordered to see Beachhead. Alpine had noticed some giggles from those on the scene who weren't Mr. Grumpyface. Flint had too and ordered the lot of them to clean up the mess. Alpine felt a little guilty about that because it was his mess, but some the ones helping out certainly had more experience on the farm than he did so it worked out fairly well. He would have to make it up to them later.
"Hey lovebirds! This ain't no romantic stroll in the park! Let's see a little more hustle!" Beachhead shouted as he recorded the split with his stopwatch. Glancing down, he recognized that Alpine and Bazooka's speed wasn't particularly bad but they could put a little more effort into it, both in the name of punishment and in the name of self-betterment. His sandwich remained untouched on the folding long table before him, surrounded by various reports he worked on while keeping Alpine and Bazooka honest.
"Just slowin' down to ogle you sweet thang!" Alpine called back, winking. Beachhead rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Bazooka chuckled. Man, I wish I was clever and quick like Alpine, he thought.
Beachhead watched as the duo got further away. He shook his head again. How a pair of idiotic slackers such as the two of them could be so good at what they did was beyond him. Just think what those two could be like if they put more effort into it. It was a shame. Beachhead had worked hard for all of the assets he brought to the team. He expected more of himself than he did anyone else, but irked him that people got along on so much less. Beachhead's sense of discipline was about him and him alone, it gave him control in his life. Lucky breaks and natural ability could abandon you at any time. Hard work meant lasting results.
#-#-#-#-#
Roadblock was on his way to the gunnery, two heavy crates of ammunition in tow, one on each shoulder. Lunch in the mess was particularly distasteful so he planned to make himself something in his quarters when he got hungry. When things were this bad, it was best for him to avoid communal meals and spend some quality time with his M-2. He swore there were some people who seemed to think that the only thing he did around the base was cook and they couldn't stop whining for him to do something in dire times such as these.
Glancing over as he passed Beachhead, Roadblock had to admire the man's single-minded focus. Roadblock sometimes wondered what his life would be like if he had not been swayed at all by the military and had focused everything on his gourmet skills. He knew that with GI Joe, he was making a difference, a big one. Still, one had to wonder.
"That bad today huh?" Gung-Ho approached.
"Avoid the mess, I do confess," Roadblock smiled.
"Sadly I don't think my stomach will agree to that," said Gung-Ho. "No matter what sort of slop they call food there."
"Don't say I didn't warn ya," Roadblock shrugged, the ammunition crates rising with his gesture.
Gung-Ho continued on towards lunch, if one could call it that. He looked back briefly, Roadblock was carrying those crates without much visible strain. Gung-Ho prided himself in his physique but he he was no match for Roadblock. While he was sure that the load was no walk in the park for heavy weapons specialist, it was still rather impressive. The man's mass was impressive in itself but the fact that it seemed to be all muscle all the more so.
Opening one of the double doors to the mess, Gung-Ho spied Shipwreck, standing one leg on the seat of the chair, the other on a table top, with no commanding officers around to stop him from doing so. Hawk was off base. Duke and Flint must have been eating in. Beachhead almost always had a working lunch. Shipwreck was making all manners of motions too, evidently recounting some sort of tall tale to the greenshirts surrounding him.
Shipwreck nodded in acknowledgment of Gung-Ho's entrance. How does he get away with that outfit anyway, Shipwreck thought to himself. I get enough teasing with mine as it is. It's a perfectly fine uniform too. It's the rest of these yahoos that are stupidly dressed.
"So, having single-handedly fought off those thugs," Shipwreck continued with his story. "and rescuing the high school swim team from the briny deep, I---"
"I thought you said it was a high school dance team," interrupted Mutt.
"Squawk! Liar! Liar! Pants on--" Polly chimed.
"Can it bird brain! It was a high school swim dance team. Like synchronized swimming even," Shipwreck was quick to recover.
"That couldn't swim their own way back to the pier?" Cover Girl raised an eyebrow.
"Not while the thugs were still there!" Shipwreck waved his index finger at Cover Girl as if to say "tut-tut." Cover Girl rolled her eyes.
"Furthermore, what high school swim dance team girl could resist being saved by yours truly," Shipwreck struck a comicly manly pose, flexing his biceps and standing like a statue atop the chair and table. Ripcord was slowly mouthing "high school swim dance team girl" while furrowing his brow, trying to de-construct Shipwreck's increasingly convoluted descriptor.
Shipwreck hopped off the table and chair and put his arms around Cover Girl and Scarlett's shoulders, wedging himself in a crouch in between them so he would be at eye level with the women. "In fact, if any of you ladies should be in need of my services, just call. We can have our own special wet T-shirt conte--" Shipwreck started, eyeing the two as well as Lady Jaye across the table.
Cover Girl and Scarlett both attempted to slap Shipwreck but he dodged backwards, standing upright, causing the women to slap each other instead. They both winced. Shipwreck only had a moment to feel smug about it though as he was soon hit square in the forehead with a spoon from across the table, courtesy of Lady Jaye.
"Ow!" cried Shipwreck. Lady Jaye was just too damn good with those projectiles. After the initial sting, he flashed a devilish grin and continued on with his story.
Man, Shipwreck's so popular, one of the greenshirts thought to himself. It must be great to be part of the core Joe team. He knew that just being part of the base put him a cut above the rest, but it was hard going from being one of the better ones in your battalion to pretty much a nobody – having your team look up to you to having no one look up to you.
Junkyard happened to be looking up at that particular greenshirt. Boy did those sausages on his plate smell good, even if they probably were leftovers from breakfast. The canine continued to sit patiently and obediently nevertheless.
Wild Bill smiled as he glanced over at Mutt and Junkyard. The two were quite a pair. Bill wished his dog, Ranger, could be with him. Of course, Ranger wasn't well-trained like Junkyard. At his age, Ranger was nearly deaf and blind in fact. However, Bill loved the ol' dog anyway and with a certain sadness recalled how it was getting more and more unlikely that he would get to see Ranger again before he passed away. Still, Ranger was in better hands with his family back home – and somehow, his family was in better hands having Ranger around too.
Patting his belly a couple times, Wild Bill decided that he was done with lunch and made his way for the door. Scarlett followed after him. "Hey! You're going to miss the rest of my story!" Shipwreck called after her.
"I'm sure Cover Girl and Lady Jaye will fill me in on the rest!" Scarlett called back, smiling. Cover Girl and Lady Jaye made faces, Scarlett had just greatly decreased their chances of leaving without argument from Shipwreck.
Scarlett turned to Wild Bill. "Hey."
"Hey yourself Red," Wild Bill responded.
"Feeling okay? You looked a little down for a moment there."
"Aw it's nothing," Wild Bill looked down, blushing a little. How the lady could tell something like that despite his calvary hat and big sunglasses, he never knew. "I was just looking at Mutt and Junkyard and thinking of my own dog back home. I guess you could say I'm a little jealous there."
"You're too hard on yourself," Scarlett smiled reassuringly.
"It's okay, envy can be a good thing too y'know," Wild Bill smiled back. "Growing a green-eyed monster is no good. Regret ain't so hot either. But sometimes it's just a logical step from admiration and the next logical step from that can be to make yourself better for it. Just gotta leave the resentment out and keep the respect in. Be honest to yourself and it ain't too hard."
Scarlett reflected on his statement. "I think you're onto something there."
"Well, looks like we must part ways," Wild Bill said as the pair neared the hanger. "Have a mighty fine afternoon, ya hear?"
"You too Bill. You too."
#-#-#-#-#
Snake-eyes watched Scarlett and Wild Bill as they neared, not staring so much as aware of them in his field of vision. The commando sat in the shade of one of the few trees near the fortifications of the PIT, leaning against its trunk. It was not too unusual for Snake-eyes to take lunch by himself though he enjoyed the camaraderie of the team often these days also. Many of the Joes could sign fluently and he had developed a pretty universally understood set of motions and gestures that often served him well in mixed company. Looking at Scarlett and Wild Bill however, he was reminded that there were just some things he would like to convey with words, in his own voice, face to face.
As Scarlett parted ways with Wild Bill, she noticed Snake-eyes, partially obscured by the shadow of the tree. The man was good at not being seen. She had planned on heading back to her office, but decided she had enough of an excuse to take advantage of the sunny autumn day and turned her way towards Snake-eyes. He was idly playing fetch with Timber, or at least it might appear that way to the inexperienced. A well-trained eye could tell that the throws were exact, challenging the wolf's running, jumping, and strafing. The returns were quick and with due stealth. Like dog, like master.
Timber is probably a better student than I, Scarlett mused to herself. She had asked Snake-eyes to teach her, knowing that he was better, a lot better, than she or anyone else on base. Thankfully he had said yes. He was probably giving up some of his spare time to do so. Sometimes she felt that she could never hope to but grasp at his level. Still, she was better for training, she could feel it and it was always fun to surprise her brothers back at home with some new moves. Yeah, Bill's definitely onto something, she thought.
"Mind if I sit here?" Scarlett leaned over to face the seated Snake-eyes, ponytail falling to one side, putting on her sweetest smile. She wasn't sure if he wanted some healthy quiet time to himself or was shutting others out, which despite his many talents, he had a tendency to do, at least in her opinion. Of course, she didn't expect him to shoo her away in either case, which she recognized was sort of unfair to him, but she couldn't help herself. "It's too nice a day to waste away inside."
Snakes-eyes motioned his hand as if to say "be my guest." Somehow, even wearing a mask, his expression seemed warm. Scarlett sat against the tree trunk next to him, leaving him plenty of room to continue his activities with Timber, and began reading her thick stack of reports.
#-#-#-#-#
Duke walked out of the main building, carrying his silverware back to the mess. There were drop off points for such things in the nearby coffee rooms, but after a full lunch hour of perusing nitpicking memos from Washington, he needed a quick wake-up stroll. With the inner maze of the Pit, it was actually faster to take the outdoor route – usually more pleasant too. That wasn't to say that he wouldn't be hitting the coffee room though. No doubt there would be a new pot brewing for the after-lunch lethargy.
With the sun out, it was warm despite being so late in the year. There was just enough of a breeze now and again that no serious heat built up. Duke surveyed the field before him, his eyes eventually landing on Scarlett. She had her head in some reports, the edges of the paper and wisps of her hair sometimes catching in the wind. Somehow, she looked so very serene to him at that moment. She was seated next to Snake-eyes, though the two didn't seem to be interacting per se –
"I hear that jealousy is unbecoming of a commanding officer," this time Flint was smirking, he had come up behind Duke. It looked like he had found his appetite after all. Flint was carrying his own box lunch, freshly grabbed from the mess. At least he had the decency to say it softly, if he was going to say it. Duke cringed nonetheless. The first sergeant opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it and thought to himself.
"I've heard that too," Duke finally said, conceding to Flint. He smiled sheepishly.
"Anyway, shall we?" Flint asked, waving the battle simulation reports by his head.
"Sure, let's go grab some coffee," Duke said, turning back to the PIT. The two men spent the rest of the afternoon hard at work, not mentioning the "J" word again.
