Goddess.

There are no words other than that to describe her.

A goddess.

A goddess in a black shirt speckled with mud, her face coated in grime, mud covering her combat boots and extending up her legs to just below her navel.

He knows to dodge right when she fires, her aim is dead on perfect as always. She was trained by the best, he was too, but somehow her training makes her seem that much more ethereal and celestial to his eyes.

She has a baby on one hip, a staff weapon wielded one handed, tucked under her armpit, P-90 slung across her back along with a grenade launcher almost as big as she was. Firing relentlessly at their attackers as they move the village's people through the gate the Alpha Site to protect them from invading forces.

She nods once as he joins her, with a swift movement she tosses him the staff weapon and uses her now free hand to quickly dial the gate.

Hours later, when she is cleaned and smells like a waterfall on a distant pleasure planet they once visited, he finds her in her office, a pair of glasses perched on her delicate nose, her dark hair pulled back away from her face as she furiously types out her report for the mission.

The contrast of scholar and soldier isn't lost on him, an ache builds in his chest as he realizes she resembles her mother more every day.

"Hey." He whispers.

"Shit, fuck, motherfucker!" She screamed, falling off the chair to land on the floor at his feet. CJ helps her up, a grin coming to his face as he feels love for her well up inside him once more.

His goddess with a filthy mouth, this being known as Peanut Jackson-MalDoran.