Cover Girl's Continuing Adventure
By Slayne22
______2237
Disclaimer- I don't own or profit from the characters of G.I. Joe in any way. This is JUST for fun. If they would just give me Beach Head though, I might actually get off my butt and do something besides writing fanfiction all day.
This is another Beach Head/Cover Girl pairing. I really like this team-up for some reason. I guess I see Cover Girl as the one female Joe who would let his growly insults roll off her back and give as good as she gets. I think they could actually learn to respect one another and become...friends, awwww! This is also a little more Cartoon Beach Head than comic book.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Chapter 1
Beach Head swore and picked up the radio as the M-35 'Deuce' came to a stop on the shoulder of the highway and died. The big truck was over 15 years old and had taken a considerable effort on his part to keep it running the whole day. He had hoped it would make it back to base, but that obviously wasn't happening. While the Joes got the cutting edge of technical equipment for their battles with Cobra, they also had to put up with the mainstays of military vehicles as well. He radioed the base and talked to Flint, who promised to send someone out right away. Then the Ranger turned and looked at the rookie sitting next to him in the Deuce.
"What's your name again?"
"Rollins, sir." the young Corporal replied. He was a smaller Marine in the first few weeks of training, and was not finding this particular Sergeant very easy-going.
"Well Rollins, you now get to live one of the more common experiences of the Joes. Vehicle failure." The Sergeant sounded annoyed and Rollins glanced at him a little nervously. It had been a long morning of training exercises with the other newbies at a nearby National Guard Camp. The Sergeant had run them ragged and dressed them down with the ferocity of a pit-bull. Rollins had never been particularly good at holding his tongue, and had ended up talking back to the big Sergeant, earning himself some extra 'attention'. Then he had been the last soldier in from the 5 mile run. The other rookies had snickered as Scarlett had ordered him to ride with the Sergeant on the way home. They had been the last to leave and the masked Ranger had spent most of the ride lecturing him on how he could improve himself.
"Out!" Beach Head ordered and they both hopped out of the truck and onto the gravel shoulder. They checked over the Deuce looking for specific trouble, but found none. They were a good two hours out from base, with the others well over an hour ahead of them. Flint would probably just send Clutch out and try to get the truck fixed right here. Beach Head finally walked to the shaded side of the truck and eased himself down, leaning against the big wheel. Rollins wondered how he could stand wearing that knit mask in the afternoon heat. Then he wondered why the man wore the mask at all.
The time stretched on as the Sergeant began in again on the lecture. They both rose and walked to the road as a Hummer pulled up behind them, Clutch at the wheel. The mechanic hopped out, followed by Cross Country and glared at Beach Head.
"What the hell did you do to my Deuce?"
"I was getting ready to shoot it and put it out of it's misery before you drove up." Beach Head replied. Clutch shook his head and walked to the truck. Cross Country glanced at the Sergeant and then at the Corporal.
"Havin' fun Rookie? I bet you're just havin' yourself a great ole time with Beach Head here."
"Yeah, big fun..." Rollins answered, and then shrugged with a grin as Beach Head glanced at him.
"It's better than being locked inside a tank with you, Cross Country."
They heard Clutch swearing from the front end of the truck, and they walked around to stand behind him.
"What is it? How long is it gonna take?" Beach Head demanded.
"I'm seeing crap all over the place in here...it's gonna take awhile, if I can fix it here at all."
"Great." Beach Head replied.
"Cover Girl's right behind us...she'll take you guys back to base."
"Again...great." Beach Head said dryly. As if on cue, there was the deep growl of an engine and the men all looked up as a sleek, black car crept up and onto the shoulder in front of them. The paint was slightly faded and the rear end curved down to a sqared-off nose. The car idled with a restrained thunder.
"Cover Girl's new car." Clutch remarked wistfully and irritated as he jerked a thumb towards it. Privately, he was immensely impressed with what she had done with it so far...but telling her that was NOT an option. Beach Head and Rollins walked towards the car and Cover Girl looked up at them from the driver's seat, pushing her sunglasses up onto the top of her head as she grinned at them.
"What the hell is this?" Beach Head asked with long-suffering acidity.
"This, boys, is a 1970 Plymouth Hemi Cuda. It's a 426 Hemi with a Holley 4 barrel, shaker hood, a 4 speed with pistol-grip shifter and a go- wing on the back! It's so damn evil it makes you look like a retarded boy scout, Beach Head."
"What?" Beach Head scowled and Rollins laughed. He cut if off quickly when the Sergeant glared daggars at him.
"Well, what the hell did you bring it out here for?"
"I just got it up and running. I wanna see what it can do. Either get in or stay out here and wait for Clutch and Cross Country to get the Deuce fixed."
Beach Head looked annoyed and hesitated. Rollins grinned and began walking around the side of the Mopar.
"Shotgun!" he called.
"Like hell!" the Sergeant growled and scrambled around the car to the passenger side. "Get in the back!"
"I ahh...I hate the back."
"Excuse me?"
"Sometimes I get sick in the back." Rollins replied with a little more venom than he wanted.
"Well get over it, Corporal!" Beach Head emphasized the rookie's rank. "This ain't a discussion."
Cover Girl tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and rolled her eyes. By virtue of rank, Beach Head would win the pissing match. Kind of fitting, since he was also the biggest prick on the Joe team. She grinned at that joke and then hit the horn, startling both of the men.
"Let's go!"
"You wanna stop that, Cover Girl!" came Beach Head's annoyed drawl as two male heads leaned down to glare at her through the passenger side window. He opened the door and pulled the seat forward then looked at Rollins pointedly. Rollins hesitated and then sighed and climbed into the backseat. Beach Head climbed into the front and shut the door.
"Rookie...you puke in here, and I'll drag you behind by the short hairs for the duration of the trip...got it?"
He looked at Cover Girl, surprised, as Beach Head let out a sharp laugh.
"Yes ma'am!"
"Good!"
She gunned the motor once, hit the clutch, slid the rumbling car into gear, and the whole hulk of formed steel leapt forward throwing both men back into their seats. The engine roared with a deep, throaty whine as the shaker hood and quarter panels shook slightly with velocity. Both men glanced over at the grinning Cover Girl as the car raced forward and then scrambled for their seatbelts.
"Jesus!" Rollins muttered as he pulled the old lap belt around his waist and yanked it tight. Beach Head was doing the same, but with much less panic. They watched the cars on the highway as they flew by.
"What's the matter, boys? Not used to a powerful ride?"
"Don't get us killed, Corporal." Beach Head muttered.
"You wanna live forever?" Cover Girl laughed.
"I'd like to make it through this week, at least." the Sergeant replied calmly.
"And without pain!" Rollins added.
"Ah, don't worry, boy. "Beach Head said, turning to glance at the rookie. "She hits anything at this speed, you won't feel a thing!"
Cover Girl laughed and Rollins groaned quietly, his heart creeping up into his throat as the road flew at them even faster. She roared down an off-ramp, drawing the glare and bark of the Ranger.
"Where the hell are you going?"
"Taking back roads home. The highway has too much traffic and too many cops. I can't afford another ticket...the motor pool hasn't made me a millionaire."
"But you can afford a car like this?"
"Hey...gotta have priorities!" she quipped, grinning at him. He just shook his head.
"What's that smell?" Rollins suddenly asked, making a face.
Cover Girl opened her mouth and Beach Head's masked face snapped around to glare at her.
"Don't even think it!" he growled. He was damn tired of all the jokes about his lack of deodorant. It was getting old and irritating. She smiled and then looked at the rookie in the rear view mirror.
"It's the interior. I'm not finished with it yet. It's a little musty smelling. I've only really got the mechanics finished, unless I decide to add another Holley to it. The interior and the body will take a little longer."
"Oh." Rollins winced as they flew over a small hill and his stomach dropped. The musty smell didn't help. He bit his lip and held on for another half hour before he finally leaned forward.
"I gotta go to the bathroom."
"Hold it!" Beach Head ordered.
"No...I gotta go too." Cover Girl protested.
"There's nothing out here."
"We'll find somewhere."
They all looked out the windows, as if a port-a-john would suddenly appear in the middle of the road.
"Just stop and go in one of these cornfields."
Cover Girl glanced at the Sergeant. "I'm NOT going in a cornfield!"
"What's the problem...you must have gone in worse places on missions."
"That doesn't mean I have to ignore basic ettiquette and drop trow anywhere."
Beach Head shrugged. "Whatever." As they came up over another hill, the unmistakeable sign of a bar appeared.
"There!"
Cover Girl slowed the Cuda and they looked at the old tavern. It looked like an old house, and had a gravel parking lot filled with old pick- ups and a few bikes. Cover Girl pulled the car into the lot and parked well away from the other vehicles.
"Maybe we can get some food here too. I had to miss lunch because of you guys." She waited for Beach Head to object, but he just shrugged and they climbed out of the car.
"Open the trunk...we aren't taking guns inside."
Cover Girl popped the trunk and Beach Head set his pistol inside. She closed it again and they began walking towards the building.
"Take off your mask, Beach...we don't want them to think we're robbing the place."
He grumbled about it, but pulled the knit mask off and shoved it into his belt. They worked their way between the old pick-ups, hearing strains of a banjo from the tavern and the bark of a hound as it saw them from it's place on the stoop.
"Does anyone else get the feeling we've just entered Deliverance country?"
"I thought that was only down South...like in Alabama or something." Rollins remarked. Beach Head stiffened and turned to glare at him.
"Keep it up, boy! You ain't a Joe yet." he warned before heading through the door of the bar. Rollins hesitated as Cover Girl laughed and looked at him.
"Oh...that was a good one, Rookie! Did you see the look on his face?"
"What did I do?"
"He's from Alabama...didn't you notice the Southern twang?"
"Shit!"
Cover Girl clapped him on the back. "Nah...good one!"
They followed the Ranger into the bar. There were a handful of people inside. A couple of old farmers and a few younger men who looked like bikers playing pool. They all looked up and then stopped all action as they stared at the newcomers. The Joes walked slowly forward, glancing uneasily at the hard faces. The glares turned into stares as they gradually all centered on Cover Girl.
"Great." she muttered.
"And you thought I'd cause a scene." Beach Head muttered back. They walked to the bar and Cover Girl looked at the bartender, a balding man with a huge gut hanging over the waistband of his jeans.
"You got a bathroom?" she asked politely. He nodded towards the back of the bar and she and Rollins glanced back. There was one door with a hand-written sign saying 'john'. Rollins looked at her.
"Go ahead." she sighed as he looked at her gratefully and darted for the back. "Order something." she said to Beach Head, hoping it would improve the attitude towards them.
"We'll take two beers and a coke."
"You don't want a beer?" Cover Girl asked him as the bartender glared at them and then turned to get their order.
"The coke's for you...unless you want me to drive home."
"Over my dead body."
"That's what I thought." They took the drinks to a table at the side and sat to wait for Rollins.
"I didn't think there was a place like this out here." Cover Girl remarked, looking around at the dusty interior.
"There's a place like this everywhere."
"We should have brought Cross Country with us...he speaks 'redneck' doesn't he?"
"Just drink up and let's get out of here."
Rollins slid into one of the chairs and looked at them. "These people are creepy. They're all glaring at us like they want to deck one of us."
"They won't try it." Beach Head said, glancing around.
"How do you know?"
"Do you know how many people there have been who wanted to punch me?"
"Does modern math even count that high?" Cover Girl asked blankly.
"Oh, that was fucking hilarious, Cover Girl." Beach replied dryly.
"I didn't think it was that bad."
"Didn't you have to go the bathroom?"
"Alright, alright..." she downed another mouthful of the coke and then got up and walked to the back of the bar. The guys playing pool stopped to watch her. She walked past them and through the door to the 'john'.
"Oh...nice!" she muttered as she looked down at the wet floor and scummy fixtures. There was no lock on the door, and it didn't want to latch shut. She had to hold it shut with her toe as she went.
"Ugh...I'm taking an hour-long shower when I get home."
When she stepped out, the biker guys were waiting for her. They all grinned at her and one of them slammed a pool que down in front of her, blocking her path as she tried to walk past.
"Where ya going?"
Shit! She thought as she looked into the grimy faces. She didn't want to have to kick some ass and start a whole thing here.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Disclaimer- I don't own or profit from the characters of G.I. Joe in any way. This is JUST for fun. If they would just give me Beach Head though, I might actually get off my butt and do something besides writing fanfiction all day.
This is another Beach Head/Cover Girl pairing. I really like this team-up for some reason. I guess I see Cover Girl as the one female Joe who would let his growly insults roll off her back and give as good as she gets. I think they could actually learn to respect one another and become...friends, awwww! This is also a little more Cartoon Beach Head than comic book.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Chapter 1
Beach Head swore and picked up the radio as the M-35 'Deuce' came to a stop on the shoulder of the highway and died. The big truck was over 15 years old and had taken a considerable effort on his part to keep it running the whole day. He had hoped it would make it back to base, but that obviously wasn't happening. While the Joes got the cutting edge of technical equipment for their battles with Cobra, they also had to put up with the mainstays of military vehicles as well. He radioed the base and talked to Flint, who promised to send someone out right away. Then the Ranger turned and looked at the rookie sitting next to him in the Deuce.
"What's your name again?"
"Rollins, sir." the young Corporal replied. He was a smaller Marine in the first few weeks of training, and was not finding this particular Sergeant very easy-going.
"Well Rollins, you now get to live one of the more common experiences of the Joes. Vehicle failure." The Sergeant sounded annoyed and Rollins glanced at him a little nervously. It had been a long morning of training exercises with the other newbies at a nearby National Guard Camp. The Sergeant had run them ragged and dressed them down with the ferocity of a pit-bull. Rollins had never been particularly good at holding his tongue, and had ended up talking back to the big Sergeant, earning himself some extra 'attention'. Then he had been the last soldier in from the 5 mile run. The other rookies had snickered as Scarlett had ordered him to ride with the Sergeant on the way home. They had been the last to leave and the masked Ranger had spent most of the ride lecturing him on how he could improve himself.
"Out!" Beach Head ordered and they both hopped out of the truck and onto the gravel shoulder. They checked over the Deuce looking for specific trouble, but found none. They were a good two hours out from base, with the others well over an hour ahead of them. Flint would probably just send Clutch out and try to get the truck fixed right here. Beach Head finally walked to the shaded side of the truck and eased himself down, leaning against the big wheel. Rollins wondered how he could stand wearing that knit mask in the afternoon heat. Then he wondered why the man wore the mask at all.
The time stretched on as the Sergeant began in again on the lecture. They both rose and walked to the road as a Hummer pulled up behind them, Clutch at the wheel. The mechanic hopped out, followed by Cross Country and glared at Beach Head.
"What the hell did you do to my Deuce?"
"I was getting ready to shoot it and put it out of it's misery before you drove up." Beach Head replied. Clutch shook his head and walked to the truck. Cross Country glanced at the Sergeant and then at the Corporal.
"Havin' fun Rookie? I bet you're just havin' yourself a great ole time with Beach Head here."
"Yeah, big fun..." Rollins answered, and then shrugged with a grin as Beach Head glanced at him.
"It's better than being locked inside a tank with you, Cross Country."
They heard Clutch swearing from the front end of the truck, and they walked around to stand behind him.
"What is it? How long is it gonna take?" Beach Head demanded.
"I'm seeing crap all over the place in here...it's gonna take awhile, if I can fix it here at all."
"Great." Beach Head replied.
"Cover Girl's right behind us...she'll take you guys back to base."
"Again...great." Beach Head said dryly. As if on cue, there was the deep growl of an engine and the men all looked up as a sleek, black car crept up and onto the shoulder in front of them. The paint was slightly faded and the rear end curved down to a sqared-off nose. The car idled with a restrained thunder.
"Cover Girl's new car." Clutch remarked wistfully and irritated as he jerked a thumb towards it. Privately, he was immensely impressed with what she had done with it so far...but telling her that was NOT an option. Beach Head and Rollins walked towards the car and Cover Girl looked up at them from the driver's seat, pushing her sunglasses up onto the top of her head as she grinned at them.
"What the hell is this?" Beach Head asked with long-suffering acidity.
"This, boys, is a 1970 Plymouth Hemi Cuda. It's a 426 Hemi with a Holley 4 barrel, shaker hood, a 4 speed with pistol-grip shifter and a go- wing on the back! It's so damn evil it makes you look like a retarded boy scout, Beach Head."
"What?" Beach Head scowled and Rollins laughed. He cut if off quickly when the Sergeant glared daggars at him.
"Well, what the hell did you bring it out here for?"
"I just got it up and running. I wanna see what it can do. Either get in or stay out here and wait for Clutch and Cross Country to get the Deuce fixed."
Beach Head looked annoyed and hesitated. Rollins grinned and began walking around the side of the Mopar.
"Shotgun!" he called.
"Like hell!" the Sergeant growled and scrambled around the car to the passenger side. "Get in the back!"
"I ahh...I hate the back."
"Excuse me?"
"Sometimes I get sick in the back." Rollins replied with a little more venom than he wanted.
"Well get over it, Corporal!" Beach Head emphasized the rookie's rank. "This ain't a discussion."
Cover Girl tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and rolled her eyes. By virtue of rank, Beach Head would win the pissing match. Kind of fitting, since he was also the biggest prick on the Joe team. She grinned at that joke and then hit the horn, startling both of the men.
"Let's go!"
"You wanna stop that, Cover Girl!" came Beach Head's annoyed drawl as two male heads leaned down to glare at her through the passenger side window. He opened the door and pulled the seat forward then looked at Rollins pointedly. Rollins hesitated and then sighed and climbed into the backseat. Beach Head climbed into the front and shut the door.
"Rookie...you puke in here, and I'll drag you behind by the short hairs for the duration of the trip...got it?"
He looked at Cover Girl, surprised, as Beach Head let out a sharp laugh.
"Yes ma'am!"
"Good!"
She gunned the motor once, hit the clutch, slid the rumbling car into gear, and the whole hulk of formed steel leapt forward throwing both men back into their seats. The engine roared with a deep, throaty whine as the shaker hood and quarter panels shook slightly with velocity. Both men glanced over at the grinning Cover Girl as the car raced forward and then scrambled for their seatbelts.
"Jesus!" Rollins muttered as he pulled the old lap belt around his waist and yanked it tight. Beach Head was doing the same, but with much less panic. They watched the cars on the highway as they flew by.
"What's the matter, boys? Not used to a powerful ride?"
"Don't get us killed, Corporal." Beach Head muttered.
"You wanna live forever?" Cover Girl laughed.
"I'd like to make it through this week, at least." the Sergeant replied calmly.
"And without pain!" Rollins added.
"Ah, don't worry, boy. "Beach Head said, turning to glance at the rookie. "She hits anything at this speed, you won't feel a thing!"
Cover Girl laughed and Rollins groaned quietly, his heart creeping up into his throat as the road flew at them even faster. She roared down an off-ramp, drawing the glare and bark of the Ranger.
"Where the hell are you going?"
"Taking back roads home. The highway has too much traffic and too many cops. I can't afford another ticket...the motor pool hasn't made me a millionaire."
"But you can afford a car like this?"
"Hey...gotta have priorities!" she quipped, grinning at him. He just shook his head.
"What's that smell?" Rollins suddenly asked, making a face.
Cover Girl opened her mouth and Beach Head's masked face snapped around to glare at her.
"Don't even think it!" he growled. He was damn tired of all the jokes about his lack of deodorant. It was getting old and irritating. She smiled and then looked at the rookie in the rear view mirror.
"It's the interior. I'm not finished with it yet. It's a little musty smelling. I've only really got the mechanics finished, unless I decide to add another Holley to it. The interior and the body will take a little longer."
"Oh." Rollins winced as they flew over a small hill and his stomach dropped. The musty smell didn't help. He bit his lip and held on for another half hour before he finally leaned forward.
"I gotta go to the bathroom."
"Hold it!" Beach Head ordered.
"No...I gotta go too." Cover Girl protested.
"There's nothing out here."
"We'll find somewhere."
They all looked out the windows, as if a port-a-john would suddenly appear in the middle of the road.
"Just stop and go in one of these cornfields."
Cover Girl glanced at the Sergeant. "I'm NOT going in a cornfield!"
"What's the problem...you must have gone in worse places on missions."
"That doesn't mean I have to ignore basic ettiquette and drop trow anywhere."
Beach Head shrugged. "Whatever." As they came up over another hill, the unmistakeable sign of a bar appeared.
"There!"
Cover Girl slowed the Cuda and they looked at the old tavern. It looked like an old house, and had a gravel parking lot filled with old pick- ups and a few bikes. Cover Girl pulled the car into the lot and parked well away from the other vehicles.
"Maybe we can get some food here too. I had to miss lunch because of you guys." She waited for Beach Head to object, but he just shrugged and they climbed out of the car.
"Open the trunk...we aren't taking guns inside."
Cover Girl popped the trunk and Beach Head set his pistol inside. She closed it again and they began walking towards the building.
"Take off your mask, Beach...we don't want them to think we're robbing the place."
He grumbled about it, but pulled the knit mask off and shoved it into his belt. They worked their way between the old pick-ups, hearing strains of a banjo from the tavern and the bark of a hound as it saw them from it's place on the stoop.
"Does anyone else get the feeling we've just entered Deliverance country?"
"I thought that was only down South...like in Alabama or something." Rollins remarked. Beach Head stiffened and turned to glare at him.
"Keep it up, boy! You ain't a Joe yet." he warned before heading through the door of the bar. Rollins hesitated as Cover Girl laughed and looked at him.
"Oh...that was a good one, Rookie! Did you see the look on his face?"
"What did I do?"
"He's from Alabama...didn't you notice the Southern twang?"
"Shit!"
Cover Girl clapped him on the back. "Nah...good one!"
They followed the Ranger into the bar. There were a handful of people inside. A couple of old farmers and a few younger men who looked like bikers playing pool. They all looked up and then stopped all action as they stared at the newcomers. The Joes walked slowly forward, glancing uneasily at the hard faces. The glares turned into stares as they gradually all centered on Cover Girl.
"Great." she muttered.
"And you thought I'd cause a scene." Beach Head muttered back. They walked to the bar and Cover Girl looked at the bartender, a balding man with a huge gut hanging over the waistband of his jeans.
"You got a bathroom?" she asked politely. He nodded towards the back of the bar and she and Rollins glanced back. There was one door with a hand-written sign saying 'john'. Rollins looked at her.
"Go ahead." she sighed as he looked at her gratefully and darted for the back. "Order something." she said to Beach Head, hoping it would improve the attitude towards them.
"We'll take two beers and a coke."
"You don't want a beer?" Cover Girl asked him as the bartender glared at them and then turned to get their order.
"The coke's for you...unless you want me to drive home."
"Over my dead body."
"That's what I thought." They took the drinks to a table at the side and sat to wait for Rollins.
"I didn't think there was a place like this out here." Cover Girl remarked, looking around at the dusty interior.
"There's a place like this everywhere."
"We should have brought Cross Country with us...he speaks 'redneck' doesn't he?"
"Just drink up and let's get out of here."
Rollins slid into one of the chairs and looked at them. "These people are creepy. They're all glaring at us like they want to deck one of us."
"They won't try it." Beach Head said, glancing around.
"How do you know?"
"Do you know how many people there have been who wanted to punch me?"
"Does modern math even count that high?" Cover Girl asked blankly.
"Oh, that was fucking hilarious, Cover Girl." Beach replied dryly.
"I didn't think it was that bad."
"Didn't you have to go the bathroom?"
"Alright, alright..." she downed another mouthful of the coke and then got up and walked to the back of the bar. The guys playing pool stopped to watch her. She walked past them and through the door to the 'john'.
"Oh...nice!" she muttered as she looked down at the wet floor and scummy fixtures. There was no lock on the door, and it didn't want to latch shut. She had to hold it shut with her toe as she went.
"Ugh...I'm taking an hour-long shower when I get home."
When she stepped out, the biker guys were waiting for her. They all grinned at her and one of them slammed a pool que down in front of her, blocking her path as she tried to walk past.
"Where ya going?"
Shit! She thought as she looked into the grimy faces. She didn't want to have to kick some ass and start a whole thing here.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^