Flippy stared at the pen and paper. His therapist told him to write down everyone he remembered from the war: Every name he knew them as, nicknames, last names, first names, titles, everything. But there was only one person he could remember. He hoped that along with the memories of that person, the ones that pressed themselves against his head, he coul perhaps think of a few other as picked up the pen hesitantly, and as the pen hit the paper, he was thrust back cleanly into the past.

Veitnam, 1960.

Flippy McClane had arrived in Veitnam. He was a young man of 19, just drafted, and was just a young private. He had on a black army tank, camo pants, black combat boots, and his green headband from boot camp. It was around 13:00 hours, and he was waiting to meet his sergeant. All he knew of this man was that he was a veteran of several wars, he was angry, his name was ''Manson'', and his nickname was Stone. Flippy was terrified already.

"MCCLAAANE! WHERE IS PRIVATE MCCLANE?"

Flippy immediately snapped to attention, saluting fiercely, screaming, " GOOD MORNING SERGEANT MANSON!"

" At ease, soldier. Alright, private, come on, I'll show you around." The man said gruffly. Flippy got a quick look at him - He was a fennec fox, although at the time, Flippy had never heard of such a thing. His jacket currently boasted the three triangle insignia of a sergeant that Flippy, before he retired, would have on his own jacket. He was a deep striking blue, and had an eye patch over one eye.

Later, Flippy learned that 'Stone' had been attacked in boot camp by a group of rapist cadets. The leader had a knife and threatened him with it, to keep him quiet. He still fought. He would have fought if it were a gun. The leader stabbed him in several places, including the eye, across the cheek, in the lower abdomen, and several times across his back. But ol' Stone managed to take on and take down all seven attackers, and they were all severely punished the next day. Stone didn't have to worry about them anymore anyway, because while they stayed in the same rank for a long, long time, Stone was quickly promoted, and then promoted again.

The only other thing that stood out about Stone was his eyes. Or rather, eye. They were the coldest, hardest eyes he had ever seen. That is one scary motherfucker, and not just because his last name is Manson. If I ever piss this guy off, I know one thing - I'll never piss him off again. Flippy shuddered slightly as he walked along behind Sergeant Manson, as the man pointed out all the places Flippy was to become familiar with.

Sergeant Manson, for the next few years, guided Flippy through his private years, until after much hard work, Flippy attained the title of corporal. By now, 'Sergeant' Manson, was now First Class Sergeant Manson. He and Flippy had grown close from experiencing the horrors of war together, although Stone was always oddly distant, and whenever Flippy opened up to him, Manson tended to shut down. But he allowed Flippy to call him Sergeant Stone, which was rare for an officer of his calliber to allow anyone lower rank than him to do so. Stone basically called Flippy whatever the hell he wanted, and Flippy never was offended.

Flippy set down the pen, suddenly remembering one member in his platoon, of which Stone had been the leader. He was absolutely amazed that he could have forgotten her, and quickly began to write about the first time he met her, the only woman in the platoon, at the same time the memory played in his mind, back when Flippy was just a little private.

Flippy walked to the usual hang - out, where soldiers could play cards, smoke, and cut up in the inbetween time that they had when they weren't busy, which was usually only around 15 minutes. This time, he heard FreeBird blasting on a radio, and only one person was there. He saw a body leaned over a table. It was a gray fox, in a black tank top, camo skirt, and black combat boots. The fox seemed to be breathing in through his nose strongly, and leaned back suddenly, gasping.

"Woo, lordy, that's what I like!" The fox was laughing strangely, and turned around to see Flippy, startled. Flippy now saw that this was a she, not a he, and what a fine fox she was. She had short, cropped black hair, a pierced tongue, and a lovely figure. She grinned, looking relieved, and said, " Ha! Damn, I was 'bout to pull out my switchblade on you, kid, you better be careful! Someone comes up behind me, I ain't gonna think it's a wide eyed child like yourself." She laughed rudely, and walked over to the radio, turning it up louder. Flippy saw a little left over of white powder on the table, and he hadn't a clue what such a thing could mean.

" Hoo, Lynard Skynard. Ain't nothing like 'em, baby, never was, never will be." Just as the song stopped, she started it again, and sang along to it, loud and brash but with a strangely clear, sweet voice. Flippy just stared at this woman. He hadn't said a word yet.

Finally, he cracked a smile, and said, " What's your name? You look familiar..."

She took a swig of a drink next to her that he hadn't noticed, and belched loudly, before saying, " Ritsuko, and before you go laughing, you wanna think long and hard about your health."

Flippy put up his hands in a sign of surrender, saying," No, don't worry, I'm not judging anything."

She nodded appreciativley. " Good, let's keep it that way. Let's see, McClane, ain't it? Yeah, I'm in your platoon, bucko." She yawned, and, picking up her gun, turned off Freebird. She clicked open the cassette holder, and pulled out her cassette, as they had recently been invented and she had saved up her money to send for one, and put it in her pocket. Then she turned to Flippy, smiling in a wily way. She came up to him, and put her hands gently on his chest. She leaned into his face, one leg raising up, her knee in his crotch, and murmured into his face, which was now blushing hot red, " I sure hope you and I are going to get very, very close, don't you think?" She was inches from his lips as she talked, and Flippy almost lost it - he nearly took her right then and there.

But before he had a chance to decide, the decision was made for him -

"MCCLANE! What the holy hell do you think you're doing?!" Stone suddenly screamed, coming from nowhere. Flippy and Ritsuko leapt away from each othre, and Ritsuko scurried away from Srgt. Manson, as she was completely high and knew he would figure it out in a second. Flippy glanced back in time to see her back turn a corner, and cried softly, "Wait!" He extended his hand at her, but then realized he had to be at attention. He whiplashed into a straight position, saluting fiercely.

Disgusted, Stone replied, " At ease, soldier. What that hell are you two doing back here?"

Flippy winced. The hangout was a privelige, and if anyone screwed it up, they would screw it up for everyone. Not only that, but everyone would not be happy with whoever fucked it up.

"I-I just met her, sir, I-"

Manson got right into Flippy's face, and said in a deadly, breathy voice, " You wanna keep away from that girl, now, you hear me, son? She hasn't got anything you want to get from her. She's trouble, kid, and not the kinda trouble you want."

Flippy shivered hard, still recovering from his encounter with Ritsuko. " Y-yes sir," He practically gasped. Srgt. Manson raised an eyebrow in perplexed disdain, but then shook his head tiredly, saying, " Just keep your head up and your nose clean, boy." He turned away, shaking his head, mumbling to himself.

Flippy stayed standing for a total of fiteen seconds after the man walked away, before sinking to the ground and gasping loudly. He still couldn't seem to catch his breath. He forced himself to take in long, deep breath, and he got to his feet, trembling slightly, tingling from his groin to his face, as he staggered off to...

... My makeshift bed. Flippy wrote. He smiled a little shakily. Boy, he thinks, that girl even now gives me the shivers. He smiled fondly in memory, recalling the last time he ever saw her, before... Well, he decided to just write it down.

Flippy was now a corporal officer, as was Ritsuko. Her shameless flirting and his babbling idiocy had remained fairly innocent all these years, although he hada tad more control over himself now. Speak of the devil, he thought, here she comes.

It was 23:00 hours, and he was about to be relieved by a fellow officer to go to sleep, as was Ritsuko. By now, she had matured just a bit - finally kicked the big C.

It was a good thing, too, because after she kicked it, and had been clean long enough for it to wash out of her system ( After three or four days of horrendous withdrawl symptoms, which Flippy stayed next to her the entire way through) after that, she was one of the ones to be randomly checked for drug usage. She was clean. Flippy had thrown her a private party, just the two of them, and she had out away her tricks the whole night, on behalf of her good friend. But she hadn't lost her fuck - you attitude, which Flippy loved about her.

She came up to him and didn't look at him. She slid a note into his pocket. Instantly realizing that this note said something that no eyes but his own were meant for, he stood straight and didn't look at her, and never once even glanced at his pocket until he was back at his cot. He lit a cigarrette, puffed on it momentarily. He had taken off his army jacket, and now was clad only in his black army tank and camo pants, black boots. With trembling fingers, he opened the note:

Flippy;

Tonight, after Srgt. Manson goes to sleep,

come out to the lake, alone. I'll be waiting.

Destroy this after reading.

Love, Ristuko. 3

Flippy sat back, amazed. He read the note four or five more times, wishing he could keep it forever. He still thought he would remember what it said, though, for a long, long time. With a sigh, he looked away and plucked the cigarrette from his mouth, using it to set the paper alfame. He still remembered the words, they were engraved in his head, and little bits kept flying around his head. I'll be waiting. Love, Ritsuko. Love, love love, Ristuko, I'll be waiting, Ritsuko, come out to the lake, Love, Ristuko. He sighed, terribly hopeful but jaded simultaneously. She had to mean what she said, but at the same time, she can't have meant what he thought. He sat and stared at the ceiling, dragging heavily on his cigarrette again. He let out a ring of smoke, hazy and grey in the darkness of the room, the cherry of his cigarrette illuminating his face in an angry red glow. He knew Stone didn't hit the sack until around 02:00 hours, so he had a while to wait.

Finally, after three agonizingly slow hours, Flippy snuck out, seeing srgt. Manson retiring for the night. Flippy wasted no time, sneaking stealthily past the camp, and made it with ease to the river.

Flippy sighed, for a moment not wanting to go on. It was as painful a memory as it was sweet, and he went to the kitchen to get a bottle of whiskey before continuing on, taking a swig from it, and holding back tears.

Finally, Flippy saw her. In the moonlight, her gray fur was silver, and she was beautiful. She was sitting on a fallen log, her big black eyes half closed, and then she spotted Flippy, and smiled. She beckoned him over, and he gladly came over to the log, sitting next to her. She smiled at him warmly, and said in a soft voice, quite different than her usual behavior, and said, " McClane, I... You have been the most wonderful friend. You've been through everything with me, and I.... I can never repay you for that." There were little tears in the corner of her eyes, and she leaned forward and softly pecked him on the cheek, and then on the mouth.

He looked into her eyes, asking a question, and she answered. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the mouth, feeling her small frame wrapping around him, and the two moved in slow movements until they were both on the ground, him sitting on her gently. He took her hands and put them above her head, as they kissed, and they turned themselves over to passion.

Flippy now is sobbing, holding a hand over his face haphazardly. He could barely bring himself to write the next part, but with shaking hands, he scrawled the rest of the incident.

It was the next morning, and Flippy and Ritsuko had finally made love. Flippy was head - over - heels with the woman.

"ROLE - CALL."

Srgt. Jason had Flippy's room, and everything was in order. But in Ritsuko's cabin, there was a problem. Srgt. manson came out of the bunk, and said, " We have a situation! Srgt. Jason, Srgt. Dennis, come here!"

The men ran to the bunk, and everyone waited anxiously. The three men came out, looking saddened.

"We regret to say that there has been a suicide in the bunk. We'll have a service at 13:00 hours. Mion Ritsuko has passed, God Bless."

Flippy froze. His heart dropped, and he felt sick. Just naseous.

Flippy sobbed, his pen falling to the table, rolling onto the floor. Until he started writing about her, he had forgotten the tragic parts of Ritsuko's story. Bitterly, he emptied his whiskey bottle, and before he passed out, decided to continue writing when he awoke, about his first mission with Srgt. Manson.

Aww! Poor Flippy! :,-(

(Cries)

This story is all over the place, if you didn't notice, as Flippy is remembering his life in little fragments, and they are rarely in chronological order. :) Look forward to more of Flippy's past!

Character pictures: ( Delete space)

http://aven-cloudchaser. deviantart. com/art/Stone-Htf-oc-3-129597959

http://aven-cloudchaser. deviantart. com/art/Stone-Htf-oc-2-129597864

http://aven-cloudchaser. deviantart. com/art/Stone-Htf-oc-129597693

http://aven-cloudchaser. deviantart. com/art/Ritsuko-htf-oc-129598942