A/N: I do not own H50. Never will claim to. This is just a little drabble, humerous. Hopefully. *smile*

Rambo Sang Soprano.

Tactically it was very simple. Corner the target and smash it several times with something hard so that it was dead. Then go and arm the room with traps so it's friends would be instantly taken care of if they entered. This was usually the plan. And it was done in secret...these...missions.

A pencil tapped against a glass as he thought. Something caught his ear and his head turned towards the small shuffle shuffle in the corner. Shuffle. Scrap. Scrapscrapscrap. He swallowed, turning back to his paperwork. If the enemy remained in the wall, there was no need to worry. *squeek* He cast a glance towards the corner again. Unless..it..wasn't in the wall. *squeek. squeek* Scrap. Shuffle...munch. It was *nibbling* He rose, slowly, looking at the bookshelf as if it might come alive. He didn't dare look *away*. It might come out with it's giant teeth and claws and attack him. He didn't know, or didn't care at the moment that he was drawing the attention of his team, looking at him curiously, brows furrowed, lips bitten, heads tilted as they stood at the window...just..watching. The Enemy had been tormenting him since he was a child. It didn't help his *little* sister found it hilariously amusing that her brother *hated* mice in the way Indiana Jones *hated* snakes. He looked around the office quickly, scanning the various objects he could use as a weapon if he had to. It was *embarresing*. He was...a *man* for one thing. *Men* are not paralyzed by tiny little *monsters* who will nibble at your toes in your sleep and carry deadly diseases.

*Scrap* He jumped, staring his opponent in the eyes. Beady..little..black..*evil* eyes stared at him as it nibbled on its tiny little paws. *Squeek* it had papers in front of it..nibbling on some papers that had fallen behind the shelf. No doubt making it's self a *home* in his office. He reached for the nearest thing he could grasp. He would have to get *close* to it. He shivered, picking up the paperweight. Maybe if he *threw* it, it would hit the mouse and knock it out. He aimed...fired...the mouse ran. There was a short...hopefully manly...shriek and he lept to the desk in some super-SEAL move, crouching there, looking at the floor...the enemy long hidden somewhere under the desk. At home there were brooms, sticks, large heavy items...here..there was no defence. He swallowed, peering over the edge of the desk, still crouched, imagining it running up his pant leg, nibbling...*biting*.

"We should help him." Kono said, her fingers pressed to her lips, her eyes alight with amusement.

"No..no why should we, this is too entertaining." Danno replied, his arms crossed as he chuckled.

"It's not funny!" She smacked his arm, "He's obviously scared of a mouse."

"That's the funny part, kid." He smirked, chuckling as he watched his partner perch there, checking the floor, stepping cautiously down, a hole puncher now in hand to attack the small little enemy with. He backed towards the door, opening it and shutting it firmly. He then turned, hole puncher still in hand to see the two amused faces.

"Hi."

"Hi." They echoed.

"There's..a mouse..in my office." He said.

They nodded.

He nodded. "We need traps." He nodded again, turned and walked out.

"On it." Kono's eyes still sparkled as she watched him leave.

"Should we mention this to Chin?" Danno said, watching Steve leave.

"No..we really shouldn't." Kono said, straightening her face, "It's..we shouldn't."
"We so should. Totally should."

"We should. But don't tell Steve."
"No..definately not. He'll deny it."
"Definately will be denying that one. Especially the girlish scream."
"Really? That was girlish? I kinda thought it was like..a falsetto manly scream." Danny quirked a brow, turning to follow Kono down the hall to supply for traps.

"No..no that was girly. But he would want us to describe it differently."

"Definately. It was Rambo singing Soprano."