Slavik levelled the gun and pointed it directly at McNeil's chest.

'One last time,' he growled. 'What is GDI's plan of attack on Apache?'

Commander Michael 'Mac' McNeil of the Global Defence Initiative raised his exhausted head and looked Slavik straight in the eye. He winced against the agony pooling in his stomach and snarled at the man in front of him.

'I would rather die than be a traitor.'

Slavik shrugged. 'Very well,' he whispered, and then fired two rounds into the GDI Commander's chest. He gasped and his head dropped backwards against the metal plate he was attached to, and Umagon had no choice but to watch as blood seeped through his shirt and jacket, and the defiant light slowly faded from his eyes…

****

Umagon's entire body jerked upright from her sleeping position. Her breathing was heavy and she was coated in sweat, and if she didn't know better, she might even swear that a tear or two had welled up in her eyes. Slowly, she lowered herself back down to the mild comfort of her bed. This was the first night's sleep she'd had in a couple of weeks. She didn't even feel the need for it, but Mac had insisted that she needed some rest.

The thought of Mac brought back her dream, and she hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. This was stupid. For the last few nights of sleep she'd had, she also had the vivid dreams of Mac's demise. And each dream was completely different.

The most recent one involved him being tortured and then shot by Slavik. Another had him shot during a battle. A particularly grim one involved the blades of a harvester, and an awful lot of flesh and blood. But by far the worst was when he was killed by Umagon's own hand. She remembered nothing of the dream, only the fact that Mac was dead, and she was the one who had killed him.

She didn't even know why these dreams were affecting her so much. To her, he was just another dumb blunt, maybe with slightly less loyalty issues than the rest of his kind. Even so, she suddenly felt the need to see the man, if only to just confirm he was still alive and kicking.

She carefully eased herself out of bed, and threw the thick blankets back down over the mattress. Before leaving the comfortable suite she'd been given, she grabbed her boots from by her bed and pulled them on her bare feet. She didn't really care that the only clothes she was wearing were a simple grey tank top and camo shorts, plus hefty, black leather boots. As long as she didn't look vulnerable…

****

Michael McNeil was relaxing in his room on the Kodiak. They only had a small crew, so everyone had a suite for times when they weren't needed on the bridge. Currently, Chandra was keeping an eye on the controls and navigation, but he would soon retire to his suite too, and then the whole crew of the Kodiak would be on power-down for the first time in a while. A welcome break, was the main opinion of this next couple of days.

The time was 1:21 in the morning, and Mac was watching some tv, trying to coax himself towards the lethargy that was so far avoiding him. The screen was displaying Two and a Half Men, yet Mac couldn't quite find it amusing, because something was bothering him. He didn't quite know what, but something was, and maybe it was the fact that he didn't know what was bothering him that WAS bothering him…

Or maybe it was the fact that he couldn't string together a sentence without confusing himself.

Just at the moment his head started yelling at itself, his thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. Jumping at the chance of something to do, he yelled something that was a cross between 'Yeah' and 'Enter' and came out as 'Yenteah,' and then hit the mute button on the tv remote.

He smiled as Umagon stepped cautiously into the room, but before he could even say 'Hey', he noticed the tears in her eyes.

He froze.

She tried a small smile, but her resolve disappeared and she heaved out a small sob. In an instant, Mac was at her side, and had wrapped his arms around her. She clutched desperately onto his shirt, and buried her face in it, and then let tears she didn't even know she had, flow freely.

Mac was panicking. If there was anyone in the world that didn't cry ever, it was Umagon. And the worst thing about it was that he didn't have a clue what to do. She shouldn't be clutching onto his shirt, sobbing. It was just wrong.

'Hey, hey, hey,' he whispered to her, rubbing a hand over the small of her back. 'It's okay, I'm here.' He could clearly feel her spine through the tank top she was wearing. He frowned slightly and brought one hand round to her abdomen. Her ribs were obvious and her stomach curved inwards dangerously. She never used to be this skinny.

'God, Ums,' he whispered into her hair. 'You're so thin. When was the last time you ate a decent meal?'

She raised her head slightly and blinked at him. The tiberium crystals on her brow, and the tears in her eyes, both gleamed in the low lighting. She sniffed.

'I…I don't get time…' she mumbled.

He moved his hands to her face and wiped the tears away with his thumbs. 'Sit down,' he ordered, 'and I'm going to get you some food, and then I am going to watch you eat it, and you are going to eat all of it. Okay?'

He was expecting a snappy retort about orders. He didn't get one. Instead, he got a grunt of acknowledgement. He grimaced and took his hands from her face. He stepped into the kitchen area and opened the freezer. After rooting around for something for a few moments, he decided on microwave lasagne. He took the foil-topped tub, closed the freezer and wandered back over to the microwave. Jamming the tub into the microwave, he ripped open the foil on top, and pressed a couple of buttons. The soothing hum of the microwave sprang into life, and he sighed and turned to lean against the counter.

Umagon was staring at the tv, but he could tell she wasn't actually watching it, and not just because it was muted. He knew her well enough to know when she was deep in thought, and this was one of those times. She was just looking at the screen to try and convince Mac that she was okay.

He knew perfectly well that she wasn't.

As if she could sense him staring intently at her, she turned her head around sharply and glared at him.

So he turned round and set about pouring himself a drink of water, although he could still feel her glare burning metaphorical holes in his back. Jeez, she was a feisty one, and even though she'd just turned up at his door, sobbing, and clung onto him as if he was her last lifeline, she still managed to retain her dignity, and take a lot of his in the process. He kept his back to her as he gulped down the water, and he found that the burning sensation in his back went away.

The only sound for a few minutes was that of the microwave, and just as that began to fade into the background, it cut out with a loud 'ding' and left the room in an eerie silence. Mac turned to the microwave, and took out the lasagne. He took a fork from the drawer, looked at it, and then winced and threw it into the sink. Digging down deep into the drawer, he finally found a fork that wasn't growing some sort of fungus on it, and dug it into the lasagne.

He turned around to find Umagon curled up in one corner of his couch. He walked back into the living room area of the suite and threw the tub over to her. She caught it and mumbled some sort of thanks, before digging the fork in and swirling it around a bit.

'Please?' Mac asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them again.

'Please what?'

'Eat.'

Umagon sighed and took a forkful of the lasagne, and shoved it into her mouth. She chewed it for a moment, considering it, and then decided it was okay and took another forkful. Mac smiled slightly, satisfied, and watched her carefully until she finished it.

As she took the last mouthful of lasagne, Mac broke the silence. 'What's wrong?'

Umagon looked away from him and curled her legs underneath her, kicking her boots off as she did. 'I'd rather not talk about it,' she mumbled, and rested her head against the back of the couch so she was facing the wall. Mac stood up once again and sat down next to her, reaching out one hand to touch her shoulder.

'Ums, I'm worried about you. I've never seen you like this before.'

She stayed silent for a few moments. Mac sighed and took his hand away from her shoulder, but quickly gave her his full attention when she started to speak. 'I…You, Mac.'

'Me?' Mac frowned.

'Yeah. I've been having these…nightmares. About you, and every time, you die. And I feel so empty inside, Mac…' She broke off and turned her face against the leather couch.

For a while, McNeil was stunned. She looked so…so broken. Umagon, the woman that threatened to cut off his head unless he used her real name. The woman that looked like she was about to castrate him when he suggested that something might be too dangerous for her. The woman that was willing to give up her life to save her own people.

And she was being worn down by nightmares of his death.

Slowly, he inched closer to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her backwards so she could feel the heat of his body against her back.

'I'm here, Umagon. Please, don't let me see you like this. It scares me,' he admitted. 'I need you to be fearless. A warrior. My warrior.'

Umagon froze in his arms, and rotated herself slowly to face him. Her lips were slightly apart, and her breathing was heavy.

'Mac…?' she breathed, staring into his eyes. He leaned in and put his mouth right next to her ear, momentarily just breathing in the scent of her.

'I love you, Umagon.'

Her reaction was definitely not what he had expected.

One of her hands snaked up to his cheek and pushed him forcefully back into her line of vision, then she leaned up and captured his lips in a passionate kiss. He kissed her back, just as forcefully as she was kissing him. After a few moments, she felt his tongue brush her lips. She opened her mouth to allow him access, and met his tongue with hers.

That's why Umagon couldn't sleep without her dreams being stolen by his image. That's why Mac's thoughts were so messed-up that he couldn't sleep. That's why neither of them could bear the idea that the other may not survive this war.

Because they were in love. And both of them were too damn stubborn to admit it.

Look, I know it sucks bad, okay? But it just pisses me off that no one has written anything about these two. They are damn right perfect for each other.

And yeah, they're probably both really OOC, but I don't give one. Because I made them kiss. Suck on that, bitches.

Over and out! *salutes*

P.S – Review please. Positive review are loved. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Flames will be used to set fire to senders houses.