Author's Note: Wow, has it really been almost a year already? I guess it has. My bad.

This is going to be a collection of oneshots based on a 30 day writing challenge that was popular on Tumblr a long time ago (last year). So sit back, relax, and enjoy the terribly sporadic updates.

Update (13/11/2014): Spanish translation now available from the wonderful Jhezz! Find it here: fanfiction . net /s/10823316/1/ (Remove the spaces)


1. beginning

The first thing she noticed was the blonde hair. And the goggles.

Sam knew who he was before she ever saw him in person. First he was just the Cole Train's asshole friend. But now he was the asshole who was there for the Lightmass Bomb and the sinking of Jacinto, the asshole in Delta—the squad continually trusted to save the world.

So the goggles and hair colour caught her eye, and she finally put a face to the name on Vectes. Somehow the COG felt a lot smaller after leaving Embry Province. She knew more of the Gears now, and interacted with them more often. Living on a small island would do that. And as a result of the "disagreements" with the local Stranded, Sam found herself out in the field more often. She'd defused IEDs with him watching. They had even exchanged a few casual words.

She didn't know what drew her to him. Maybe it really was as shallow as the hair colour; blondes weren't too common for some reason. Or maybe it was the disinterested bad-boy attitude. Or his reputed intelligence. Whatever attracted her to him in the first place didn't matter. After their last brief encounter, she had decided that it was time to make a move.

When she came into the main mess bar with Frank Muller, she immediately spotted the blonde sitting at the bar. Muller grabbed a table and started setting up for their game, and she went to buy the first round.

He had an almost-empty pint glass in front of him; that was her way in. She paid for two shots and then sidled up beside him.

"Come on, Baird. Don't be an antisocial dick all your life. Take a day off." She slid one of the shot glasses towards him. "Muller's teaching us to play navy chess."

Baird turned and gave her a cold stare. "Oh, that's so exciting. I think I just wet my pants."

She paused, completely taken aback. The acidity in his voice was so unexpected, so uncalled for, that it took a moment before she registered what had happened. Indignity set in seconds later.

"Fuck you, then." She snatched the shot away from him and stalked over to Muller.

Muller hadn't noticed, or he was nice enough to pretend that he hadn't seem anything. He thanked Sam for the shot she shoved his way and started to explain the rules of navy chess. Sam only half-listened, still feeling the sting from Baird's rejection. It bothered her that she was so put off by it. Usually she was the one doing the rejecting; very rarely did someone shut her down. And the coldness of it all made it so much worse. He didn't give a shit about her. He didn't give a shit about anyone except himself, and maybe Augustus Cole.

The game began and Sam forced herself to pay attention. She planned on getting absolutely shit-faced tonight. The last couple days had passed without incident and it had been ages since she just sat down and played a game with friends.

And fuck Damon Baird. That uptight, self-centred little prick of a corporal wasn't worth getting upset over. Vectes might have been a small island but that didn't mean she ever had to speak to the obnoxious bastard ever again.