Authors Notes:

It's me again, I have returned with a new fanfic, same as my first, its rated M for strong sexual content and is not a oneshot. I wrote this one just after uploading my first. I hope this one is kind of better, I wrote in a slight rush.

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Lieutenant George Baker dove out of the way as a ghost driven by a crazed Brute shot by. He had just enough time to hurl a plasma grenade at the Brute before rolling over and dodging the incoming fire from a nearby squadron of grunts. He lifted his assault rifle and opened fire on the shrieking assholes. Lt. Baker made sure that everyone of the small bastards was dead before assisting the wounded in his platoon. They carried the fallen on stretchers, ducking and weaving through the rocks in the canyon. "That was bloody close."

"No shit. I heard on the COM channel that Sgt. Bradley's squad took out a bunch of Brute Captains that were meeting just to the south, the whole damn place is just a giant crater."

Corporal Lee cut in, "Hey guys, I can see the camp! Lets hurry, if we can get over there before nightfall, we can just make dinner!"

Lt. Baker was sitting at one of the large makeshift tables laden with food. Next to him sat a civilian scientist, Leslie Hoffman, who traveled with the troops. She studied the Brutes behavior on a grant from a university somewhere in the States. She was always there on the front lines with her camera and notepad. If a brute got too close, she would slice the shit out of it with a plasma sword she carried with her. Lt. Baker respected her, if only a little bit. He grabbed a chicken wing and some mashed potatoes and proceeded to wolf it down as noisily as he could manage. Leslie glanced at him with the occasional, close your mouth when you chew, while nibbling her salad. She reached for the salt just as he did. Their hands touched. Leslie felt a slight tingle and warmness came over here. Lt. Baker felt it to, he looked at her and gave a small smile. She smiled back and then looked away, blushing.

Lt. Baker washed his mess kit under the small stream of water.

"Lt. Baker?"

He turned, his mouth dropped open, and he nearly shit himself. Before him stood a SPARTAN II, its green armor glinted even though it was dark. It stood seven feet tall. "I am SPARTAN-117, the Master Chief. Are you Lt. Baker?"

He nodded vigorously. Never in his dreams did he think he would ever get to meet a SPARTAN. He never even knew entirely that they existed. He'd heard rumors from his superiors of the fabled SPARTANS, they couldn't die, and they could pick up and throw a tank.

"Lt. Baker, I need to use your radio." The SPARTAN looked intimidating in his armor.

"Y-yessir, it's over there on the table." He watched as the SPARTAN covered the thirty feet to the table in three long strides. He picked up the radio and removed his helmet, which Lt. Baker just noticed was damaged. He was surprised to see the Master Chiefs face, it looked…human. This unnerved Lt. Baker, he'd always pictured the SPARTANS as aliens.

On the way to his tent, Lt. Baker tried to clear his head. The initial shock of seeing a SPARTAN had yet to fade. He made it to the tent and peered in, he had yet another shock. Leslie Hoffman was waiting for him on his bed. She wore a tight fitting tank top, through which it was extremely obvious to see that there was no bra underneath. She also had on a short skirt, revealing light pink panties. Lt. Baker blinked dumbly as he looked at her. She smiled, "Hi, I…uh, wanted to talk to you for a bit before I went to bed. Um, so…"

He sat next to her and took off his helmet. "Uh, what did you want to talk about?" He hoped that it wouldn't be about something stupid, but by the way she was dressed, he thought that he might get laid tonight.

"Um, the Brutes we fought today, something in the way they fight has changed." She bit her lip nervously. She didn't want to talk about Brutes, she wanted to fuck, but something was nagging her about the Brutes.

"Oh." He was clearly disappointed.

"Yeah, uh, well. The Brutes…they…are more aggressive when cornered then before. Seven months ago, when cornered, they would berserk and fight hand to hand until the death. Now they fight totally unrestrained, they have no self-control, they overexert themselves with a single punch. And when they are exhausted after a few jabs and jumps they trigger all their plasma grenades and run at an enemy. They are clearly becoming desperate, but there is something more. I wanted to ask you, on your patrol tomorrow, could you bring back a sample of Brute blood? I-I need to run some chemical tests on it."

"Sure, okay. Do you have a bottle or something that I could use?" Lt. Baker was only slightly upset that she had asked for this. He was expecting something a little more exciting.

She produced from her bag a small vial and syringe. She handed them to him. "Take the sample with this." She smiled as he took them and attached them to his belt. They looked at each other for a moment. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. He grinned and stood. She stood as well, "Goodnight Lt."

"Goodnight Ms. Hoffman." He watched her go.

"Oh, by the way Lt. Baker, the Brute needs to be alive when you draw the blood."

He groaned.