Easy Come, Easy Go

Part 1: Not-So-Subtle Secrets

Description: Fem!Grif Three-Shot. Grif wasn't like other girls, she preferred to play video games and watch sports rather than dress up and play with dolls. However, this only increases when she finds out that her little brother is to be sent to war, thanks to a one man draft. Fearing for his safety, Grif takes up the identity of her brother, running off to the war. However, she has no idea that her brother has followed after her, on top of that, it's getting harder and harder to hide her true gender from the Blood Gulch crew... especially that Simmons guy...

A/N: Originally posted on my Supercasey account on AO3.


Third Person POV; Grif Family

One Year Prior

"You've been drafted?"

Brother, AKA Kaiden Grif, gave his older sister a sad look, looking into those amber colored irises sadly as he realized that this was it, he was going to leave for basic in the morning, but he knew, oh he knew, he wasn't meant for war. Kaiden Grif was never born for war, he was born to be a famous model or actor, while his sister was born for an unknown purpose. Their father was gone, having joined the circus, leaving Destiny Grif to watch after Kaiden, who was still only eighteen, but had somehow gotten drafted anyways.

Kaiden knew that Destiny was upset, and so was he, but the humans were in the middle of an ungodly war that required any guns they could get their hands on, which, now, included young Kaiden. The teenage boy smiled warily at Destiny, taking in her worried stance and terrified eyes, which was a rare sight on her. Destiny had always been strong; a fighter, she had beaten on anyone dumb enough to tease Kaiden, who had always been a lover really.

"Yeah, I've been drafted." Kaiden confirmed for the millionth time that day. "But don't you worry, I'll be back in one piece. Fuck it, I'll totally steal a freaking Grunt lung, that would be awesome!"

Destiny wasn't buying Kaiden's faked happiness, seeing right through and into his fear. "What time are you leaving at?" She asked, arms crossed as she leaned on his bedroom wall.

The two had decided to talk in Kaiden's bedroom, where he had been spending the afternoon calling his friends to say goodbye and packing his stuff. It was hard on everyone, seeing as the whole neighborhood had known the Grif family for years, so seeing Kaiden run off to a war they knew he wouldn't survive... it was heartbreaking, especially for Destiny, who had spent most of her post-high school years taking care of Kaiden, skipping college completely.

"I'll be gone by six AM or whatever tomorrow morning, so... I guess this is goodbye, wouldn't expect you to wake up that early for me, sis." Kaiden explained, hugging Destiny tightly, despite her usual distaste for hugging and kissing between them. "Don't worry about it, I'll come back soon."

Destiny looked away, sighing deeply as she ran a hand through her long, hazel hair, trying to rid herself of the tenseness running through her bones. "How about we just... get take-out tonight, 'kay?" She asked, hoping to change the subject for now.

Kaiden nodded, smiling at his sister. "Yeah, and we can play video games too! Come on, last one to the Game Slasher gets the unlucky orange controller!"

"What!?" Destiny yelled, watching as Kaiden ran off with a head start, laughing his head off as he did so. "You get back here, asshole! I hate the orange one, the buttons stick!"


She had left.

That night, while Kaiden was asleep, Destiny had grabbed her things and had entered Kaiden's bedroom, not making a sound as she approached his nightstand, where a folded up copy of his drafting paper was. She picked it up soundlessly, tucking it into her backpack before leaning down, pressing a small kiss to her little brother's temple. She wasn't used to being so free with her inner emotions, but geez, she was leaving her brother for war, she had the right to be open with herself.

"Aloha ʻOe." Destiny whispered quietly, leaving the room soon after to enter their apartment's tiny kitchen.

She looked around, gazing at everything from the cruddy childhood scribbles taped onto the fridge to the half-eaten pizza on the coffee table. Destiny sighed deeply, knowing that if her brother had hardly a chance at surviving war, she probably had none what-so-ever. However, she would not let Kaiden go off to fight, he was too young, too naive, and he'd be dead before the first drop. Destiny gulped, glaring at the drafts paper as she pulled it out, hating every printed word on it's scratchy surface.

"Goddammit." Destiny muttered again, she had been saying it over and over these last few days, knowing from the start what she was going to do. "I'm going to regret this, I'm going to regret this so much. I'm going to go to war and be sent to prison for impersonating my brother, just... Jesus Christ, I hate everything." She shoved the paper back into her bag, strolling over to the front door.

"Well... bye, 'lil bro. See you in the afterlife." Destiny grumbled, leaving the only home she'd ever known with the soft click of a deadbolt lock closing behind her as she left, walking away into the darkness of the night.


SECOND PERSON POV; Grif

After a full year in the military, you decide that you're either really lucky or indestructible, you can't tell, all you know is that you're by some miracle still alive and have a chance to maybe, just maybe, make it home to Kaiden alive. You had gone through basic training on Earth, thankfully undetected as a chick, and were soon sent off to some crummy canyon on some shitty planet. Now, you are still alive, standing close to a man named Dick Simmons, who seems deep into his little one-sided conversation with you. You're honestly surprised to still be alive, but honestly, like you mentioned, you're either one lucky bastard or damn near indestructible.

"You even listening, Grif?" Simmons asks, looking at you from behind a maroon helmet.

"Huh?" You inquire, giving Simmons an odd look from behind your own helmet, before it clicks that Simmons must've asked you something. "Oh, yeah, keep going or whatever." You respond smoothly. You've never been one to be nervous, Destiny Grif.

Simmons makes a loud, irritating sigh. "Goddammit, Grif. I can't even talk without you ignoring me." He explains, exasperated. "For once, can you just listen to me talk to you!?"

You shrug halfheartedly, rolling your eyes underneath your helmet in secret. "Not my fault you're boring as fuck." You state simply, turning away from the man.

"Where are you going NOW?" Simmons asks.

"To eat, dumbass. Need anything, can't guarantee it'll be uneaten by the time I get back though." You explain, hopping off of the base's roof with ease.

Simmons groans. "But we're on patrol! What if we're attacked?"

"Then I die with a full stomach." You say, ignoring Simmons as you waltz inside of the base.

The inside of the Red Base it's much, much cooler. The air in Blood Gulch is naturally hot, which you don't mind one bit, seeing as you've lived with additional heated conditions your whole life. In fact, the base itself feels especially cold to you, making you shiver when without your armor (Which isn't often). You look around, careful to not let Sarge know that you skipped patrol, as you hurry over to the bathroom. You lied when you said you were getting food, okay, not totally lying, but still, that's not your main mission right now. Right now, your only concern is the growing red stain in your panties. You dash (More like speed-walk) through the hallways, quickly ducking into the bathroom as soon as you reach it.

You look around, trying to spot the familiar red armor of your Sargent or the incredibly girly showering supplies of Donut. You sigh with relief when you see no one is around, quickly tiptoeing over to the closet near the showers. After opening the closet door, you give the room another once over. Once you're satisfied enough to relax, you quickly pull off your helmet. You toss the armor piece aside, digging behind a few shower supplies and towels until you find a small, locked box labeled 'PORN' (The only sure-fire way to keep Sarge and Simmons out) and open it, pulling out a few pads. After getting the essential items, you re-lock the box and tuck it away, hurrying over to an open bathroom stall.

You duck in, quickly pulling off your armor and placing it in a messy pile, unconcerned about where it is, as long as it's off. After losing your under-suit, you pull off your underwear, grimacing at the red spot that's made residence on the once soft material. "Dammit," You curse, pulling the panties off quickly. "Fucking stained, knew I should've worn a pad this morning, before it could've started."

After safely tossing out the ruined panties (Stuffing them into the bottom of a trashcan), you grab a new pair, quickly sticking a new pad on the inside after wiping yourself off a bit. You quickly relieve yourself, wanting to take care of everything before you begin putting back on your under-suit, only to hear the shower room doors open. You keep silent, awaiting for any familiar voices of any kind. You bite down a groan when you hear Simmons and Sarge. By the sound of it, Simmons is tattling on you about skipping patrol. You remind yourself to punch him in the arm later.

"Have you seen him yet, sir?" Simmons asks, sounding the slightest bit concerned. "He said he was getting something to eat... but he wasn't in the bathroom."

"Dammit, Simmons! Now we can't even find Grif, and the Blues are by no doubts planing an attack at this very moment, and we need Grif for ammo!" Sarge argues, you hear him toss over a trashcan, you can only hope it's not the one you tossed your panties into earlier.

Simmons seems to think it over for a second. "But... Grif never brings the ammo, sir."

"I know that, Simmons! Doesn't mean we can't use him as a cannonball if we get ahold of that there tank at Blue Base... heh heh, those Blues'll never see it coming!" Sarge explains, you think he's probably grinning under his helmet at the thought.

"I completely agree, sir." Simmons says way too eagerly. You almost want to barf in response, but, surprisingly, you've managed to shut up and keep quiet.

You listen, hoping that by some miracle, both men leave so you can get re-dressed and breakout of here, hopefully just to get threatened by Sarge instead of getting found out. After awhile, it becomes clear that they're still searching, tossing over shit and looking under benches. "Come on out, Grif! Where the fuck are you?" You think Simmons turns to Sarge. "Sir, I don't think he's in here."

"Probably right... dammit, I coulda sworn I heard him!" Sarge yells, following after Simmons as they leave the room, but not without one last threat. "I swear, Grif, when I find ya, you're getting a full helping of shotgun!" Sarge reloads said shotgun, making you gulp.

After they're gone, you slip out, everything but your helmet on. You search frantically, finally finding it under a bench. You sigh with pure relief, glad that no one had seen it, or else they would've started to breakdown the stalls. You click it on, leaving the bathroom to hopefully find Simmons before Sarge can find you, who knows, maybe the jerk-off will cover for you?


SECOND PERSON POV; Simmons

Your name is Richard Simmons, a private of the Red Army. Your current mission is to not only protect the base you reside in, but apparently to keep your eyes on a certain fatass you know. You enter your bedroom, completely worn out after two hours of searching for said fatass, an orange private named Kaiden Grif. You open the door with ease, gasping in surprise at the sight before you.

Grif is there, completely asleep and snoring loudly as he lays sprawled out on your bed, a half empty bag of chips covering his chest, but that's not what's making you gasp. It's Grif's face. You've never seen him- er, her, apparently- without the orange helmet blocking your view. First of all, wow, you seriously thought Grif was a man, secondly, she has really long and hazel hair, third, back the fuck up, she's gorgeous. Sure, she's a bit chubby, but alot of people are, yet it fails to bother you. You tilt your head, watching the woman with a bit of fear even, seeing as you just realized that for the past year or so, you've been shooting the breeze with a gorgeous woman.

You tiptoe around Grif, careful to not wake her, and reach into your small rat cage by your bed, where you keep your rodent. You gently scoop Bungie up, petting the grey and white rat's fur carefully as you both lay your eyes on Grif. Bungie twitches his nose curiously, sniffing the air around himself, especially on your gloved hands. You set him down, and no, you don't give two shits if Donut has a panic attack seeing Bungie out and about. That guy can just deal with Bungie if he doesn't like him. You turn your attention back to Grif (If that is her real last name) and shake her shoulder, furrowing your brow under your helmet.

"Grif!" You say, trying to not alert Sarge, Donut, or Lopez, who're all still searching. "Wake up, fatass!"

"Shut up..." Grif mutters, shoving her face into your pillow angrily. She pauses, running a hand through her hair, perfectly aware of her lack of a helmet now that her senses have rebooted. "Fuck, is this a nightmare? Please say yes."

You're tempted to say yes, but to your better judgement, you tell the truth. "This is real life, Grif. Wake up, you've got some serious shit to explain."

Grif groans, rolling over and ducking her head under your blankets. "Fuck off, Simmons. There's nothing to talk about."

As much patience as you have for Grif, it quickly starts running out here and now. You grab the blanket, yanking it off. You glare down at Grif, watching as the brunet glares right back at you. "Oh yes you do! How the fuck are you a girl!?"

"Oh..." Grif says, examining herself. "Right... yeah, that might need to be explained, but only a little bit."

You pull up a chair, facing Grif and staring into her hazel eyes. "Tell me everything... from start to finish. Why you're in the military, who Kaiden Grif is, just... tell me."

And so she does. Grif goes on and on about her past, telling you that Kaiden is her baby brother who she's been raising ever since her father took off on them. She talks to you about her brother, how nice and innocent he is, about what it was like to just sit around and do nothing on a perfect Hawaiian day. It sounds nice and surreal, but you pick together a few things as she talks. She faked being happy alot, to please her brother, she also worked alot to keep money going for their tiny apartment, not to mention paying for Kaiden's future college classes.

After a bit, Grif's story comes to a close, making you stare at her in a new light. "Wow, Grif... that was... beautiful."

Grif blows a raspberry in retaliation, reminding you that you've known this side of Grif for almost a year now. "Please!" She exclaims, staring at you blankly. "That was nothing, besides, it wasn't that amazing or beautiful, or whatever gay slang you might use for it. Anyhow... just, don't fucking tell Sarge."

"Why not?" You ask, giving her an odd look.

"Well... Lopez and Donut already know- don't ask how, I'll tell you later- but Sarge... if he knew, it would be the perfect chance to ruin my life. He'd call me out on it, get me sent home, and Kaiden could get his ass tossed into prison if that happened. Also, I could get executed for that shit. Wouldn't that just make Sarge's day?" Grif explains, actual worry showing on her face. "Look just... keep your damn mouth shut, 'kay?"

You nod numbly, still amazed by this whole turn of events. "Uh... okay. Yeah, I can keep quiet, just... why didn't you tell me before?"

"Oh." Grif says, grinning at you as she stands, almost sitting in your lap as she crouches down in front of you. "I just can't help watching you worry about being gay for me..." And she kisses you, then and there.

You've never kissed a girl before, and you're starting to think that Grif hasn't either, but she might've kissed a boy once or twice before, either that or she's learned how to through movies and porn. But you don't care, it's nice, and you try to kiss back the way people in those Hollywood classics do. After a minute, Grif pulls back, grinning at you like a bobcat, or a puma as she might put it. She stands, walking away with a look on her face, as if she's just won the fucking lottery. You sigh, shaking your head as you watch Bungie hop back onto your lap, giving you an oh-so innocent look.

"You knew, didn't you?" You ask, watching Bungie wiggle his ears and rub against your armored palm. "Fucking traitor, could've warned me she was a girl... I shall forgive you though."

You silently decide that today has been a good day, despite the earlier events of going on a wild Grif hunt. Yeah, definitely a good day.


SECOND PERSON POV; Sarge

Your name is Mathew Sargent, and you have zero idea why bloody panties are in your base. You're not only the commanding Sargent of the Red Team stationed in Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha, but you are also your own man, a man who is most certainly confused. You know Donut isn't a girl, as much as you like to tell him he's one, and Lopez wasn't programed to be a female or have periods. So how in God's name has a pair of light pink, frilly panties covered in blood fallen onto the locker room floor of Red Base?

You briefly try to remember if there are any girls on Blue Team. Caboose isn't a girl, and neither is Church, Heaven forbid Tucker to be a lady, he'd just sit there touching himself all day (Or hitting on boys). You look around, trying to find any further evidence in the turned over trashcan that had once held the panties, only to find nothing but the remains of a pad wrapper. You grumble a bit to yourself. This all must surely be Grif's fault, that dirtbag always causes trouble and lets his team down.

"Donut! Get yer ass in here!" You order, hearing your ever present Southern accent. "I think I found somethin'."

"Coming!" Donut calls, quickly entering the locker room to stand before you with a salute, his short Mohawk waving a bit from the air conditioning in the air-vents. "Reporting for duty, sir!"

You bite back any retort you might be tempted to say. "Shut yer mouth and look here! Does this belong to you?" You hold out the offending underwear, watching Donut scan it with his eyes curiously.

Donut flinches, a movement you easily notice. "Who does this belong to, boy?" You ask sternly, knowing how bad of a liar Donut is.

"Um..." Donut stares at the floor, obviously finding his tennis shoes far more interesting. "...I dunno..." He lies very quietly, like a timid mouse.

"Out with it, soldier!" You snap irritably, glaring a heated stare at your youngest and newest recruit.

Donut yelps in discomfort at your sharp tone. "I'm sorry, Sarge! She made me promise not to tell on her!" He argues pitifully.

"Donut..." You say in a dangerous tone, eyebrows furrowed in an angry and terrifying glare. "You tell me exactly who these pantaloons belong to before I rip yer lungs out!"

"Grif! They belong to Grif, please don't tell her I told you!" Donut finally says, taking off while you stand there, completely stunned.

You gaze at the panties, furrowing your brow. Grif? That can't be right. That man is the least feminine soldier you've ever met, and that includes Tex! But... if Tex can pass off for being biologically female, anyone can... even Grif. You curse several hundred times under your breath, holding the panties in a dead grip as you stomp off, intent on cornering Grif and getting the truth out of him... or her.

Wow.

That will take some getting used to.


SECOND PERSON POV; Grif

"Grif! You get yer ass over here!"

You, Destiny Grif, look up with little interest at your Sargent. The man towers over you, but that would be expected, seeing as you're sprawled out upon the couch like a lazy old dog... or a lazy cat, whichever anyone chooses (Simmons would say a lazy rat; you'd punch him in the arm). Sarge has short, white hair, and shockingly icy blue eyes, which sorta counter your hazel browns that lie underneath your helmet. Not that he'd know that. You two are opposites in this war, even on the same team, you two remain opposing enemies in a sense.

"What?" You ask lazily, arms stationed happily behind your head as you stifle a loud yawn. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

Sarge glares at you still, suddenly holding up your panties from earlier. You shoot up, eyes wide as saucers and your tongue twisting into rather clever knots, while your mind does about eighteen back-flips. "I can explain!" You scream out, figuring you might just look horrified under your helmet.

"I'm sure you can." Sarge says bluntly, foot tapping to a steady beat.

You stare at Simmons, who stands across the room, looking just as scared as you. "Don't look at me," He yells, looking worried that you might be blaming him. "I didn't say shit!"

You notice Donut squirming, and glare with all your might at the pink rookie, who looks nervous and apologetic. "I'm sorry." He whispers, looking ashamed.

"So... why are you a... girl?" Sarge asks, crossing his arms as he raises an eyebrow at you, looking to have had a hard time saying the word 'girl'. There's no smug smirk or anger filled eyes, just disappointment and a touch of curiosity. "I expect you to answer me Private Kaiden Grif... if that's even your real name."

"I'm Destiny." You correct sharply, feeling angered as you finally let it sink into the air. "May as well be honest with you all. My name is Destiny Grif, I took my little brother's place and joined the Space Marines after he was drafted in. I couldn't let him go to war, he's a dumbass at heart, and he'd get killed by the first Covvie he sees." You explain.

Sarge nods, taking it in. "Any reason you never told us?"

"You think I'd ever tell you?" You ask in a rather snarky manner, almost grinning with hidden anger at your senior officer. "You'd get my ass sent home, Kaiden would be signed up, and I'd be in prison. I'd probably die, and you'd be free of having me around. So why in God's name should I have ever let you find out?"

"I see your point." Sarge says, arms uncrossing slowly. "But do you really think I could send a lady to prison?"

What?

"I mean, yer a bit soft..." Sarge trails off, not wanting to come off as sexist.

You sigh, scolding yourself for not remembering. Yeah, Sarge is a bit sexist, sure, but that's alot better than him ruining your life and sending you back home. "So... you're not gonna send me home?" You inquire, grinning a bit.

Sarge sighs, shaking his head. "No... no, I wouldn't do that, Grif. As much as I hate you, and find you unattractive, annoying, selfish, dumb, lazy, retarded-"

"Get on with it." You snap.

"-I still give a damn on whether you survive or not." Sarge finishes, suddenly blushing a bit. "Also, we need the advantage over Blue Team, so there! If you expect any of that sappy 'I love you' bullshit, then go ask that Caboose fella for it, 'cus you ain't getting nothin' more outta me." He declares, walking away after tossing the panties on your lap. "I suggest burning that before those dirty Blues try to root through our trash."

You kinda just sit there, staring off after Sarge with wide eyes. You hold up the panties, studying them carelessly. "Well... that was... eventful." You mutter, eyes wide still as the pink lace twists in your armored grasp.


TO BE CONTINUED...

~CabooseHeart.