So... author's notes. Or rather, a dedication:

This is for my wonderful girlfriend, who has been by my side for many years as friends, practically sisters, and now as romantic interests. To my Spice Girl, I love you, and I have always loved you, although in different ways. And even if we go our separate ways (all divine presences from Allah to Zeus forbidding), you will always be in my heart.

Now, what does this have to do with this story? Well, tomorrow is Spice's birthday, and since she's a yaoi fangirl, and I'm a Wreck-It Ralph fangirl, I decided to conbine our practically unhealthy obsessions into one!

As for why I chose to go with male!Calhoun, it's in part because I know Spice wouldn't like me breaking up such a cute couple, in part because Calhoun was originally going to be male but they changed it, but mostly because I didn't want to break up a cute couple. Seriously, they are adorable.

Ted took a large gulp of his coffee, grimacing as he realized it had gone cold. That makes it the third cup today. Still, he couldn't complain, having gotten what was essentially his dream job.

Ever since he was a child playing Fix-It Felix Jr, Ted had loved arcade games, always having the burning desire to help design an arcade game, a MODERN arcade game. One that could bring kids running back to the arcades and family centers.

It seemed that Hero's Duty was going to be that game. How could it not? The graphics were a brand new standard for video games, let alone arcade games, and while the plot was pretty basic, the way the soldiers interacted with the player more than made up for it. When they were done, it was going to be as if the players were surrounded by real people, not just computer programs.

And Ted wasn't just boasting when he said he was a big part of it. He was the sole designer in charge of creating Sergeant Tamora Jean Calhoun, the woman in charge of the whole operation and the main leader to the first person shooter. She was a work of beauty, if he said so himself. Which he did. A lot.

But she was something to brag about. Everything from her military yet gorgeous looks to her tough as nails attitude to her tragic backstory he handcrafted himself, turning her into a work of art.

Which of course, made him all the more furious when his submission was returned by Freddy, the mailroom clerk.

Ted stood up from his desk, shoving the form into Freddy's face. "What the hell is this?"

Freddy looked disinterested, straightening out the paper and handed it back to him. "It looks they vetoed your design."

"Vetoed my-! Vetoed Tamora!" Ted shouted, crumpling the paper in his hands instead of the bastard's neck. "Why would they veto my Tamora?!"

Freddy took back the paper, once again straightening it out. He read it quickly before handing it back. "Apparently, it's because she is a woman." The 'can't you read?' was implied.

"What?" Ted stood there in shock, not even taking the paper. "Why would they- women have their place in the military! This is the twenty first century!"

Freddy sighed again, putting the paper down on the cluttered mess of a desk, careful to put it where there was no coffee stains. "Yes, and the CEO was alive at the beginning of the twentieth, and what he said goes. Just do what he says and make change the character. Name him... Travis or something. You could even call him 'Ted', if you like."

"But... but... Her wedding day." Ted said dumbly, still in shock. His lovely Tamora, his dynamite girl... Gone.

Freddy sighed; this was not in his job description. Why can't these idiots do their own jobs? "Look, just make it her best friend's wedding or something. I don't know, I just deliver the mail, I don't write it." With that, he left; ready to deliver the rest of the bad news to people.

Ted stood there in silence, trying to process the information. He sunk into his seat, staring at the picture he printed of her taped to his desk for inspiration. Her crystal eyes stared right into him, judging him. She seemed to almost be saying "Well soldier, are you going to cry like a sissy girl, just because you didn't get your way? Or are you going to fight back?"

Ted stood up, resolute. He WAS going to go up there, and tell those corporate bigwigs what for! ...And then he'd get fired, and would likely be on the black list for all the game companies worldwide because of it.

Okay, new plan. He was going to fight back in a more subtle way. With... CODING!

Ted cracked his fingers and sat back down, typing intensely, with the occasional pause to gulp down more coffee. Out of the corner of his eye, he would have sworn he saw the picture of Tamora smirking at him.

Sergeant Camoran Calhoun opened her- no, his, that was changed in programming- eyes. He was standing in a field of nothingness, empty space as far as the eye could see. Still, he remained vigilant, lest one of the enemy attack while his guard is down. The fact that he did not know who- or what- the enemy was did not deter him. He had his mission, even if he didn't know what it was.

And then suddenly, he did. They were Cybugs, a government experiment on an unnamed planet that had gone horribly wrong, and he and his men were sent to put a stop to it. He remembered getting the call, leaving his home planet on the call for more brave souls to train, fight, and even die for their solar system. He managed to break records in basic training, and went on to become one of the youngest commanding officers in the history of the armed forces. The background shifted to the battleground he was programmed to fight across, looking both brand new and familiar at the same time. He hadn't fought across it yet, but at the same time, he's battled here for years.

Then he remembered Brad Scott, his fiancéeloverbestfriend secret love. They met in basic training, and he fell in love with the broad shouldered scientist. However, Brad only saw him as a buddy, practically a brother.

And Camoran accepted it. He was realistic enough to know that Brad wouldn't love him like that, and he was content enough just being friends, even if he truly wanted something more. And he… tolerated… that pretty little intern Brad started dating, even though she was just a stupidly airheaded slip of a girl who didn't know one end of a gun from the other. He even agreed to be the best man at their wedding, although his teeth had gotten a thorough grounding that day.

He wished now that he stopped that girl before they even got close, slapped some sense into Brad when he had the chance. But he didn't, and life was all the worse for it.

Camoran closed his eyes, trying to get rid of the memories swelling in his mind, each one blasting like fission bombs against his psyche. He had to remind himself that it wasn't his fault, that he had no idea what was going to happen and that he couldn't have changed any of it anyway. It was just backstory, and that was all it was. Even if it tore a hole through his heart.

"Sarge!" Calhoun's eyes snapped open, and he spun towards the voice, gun already pointed at the speaker. He relaxed only marginally when he saw it was Kohut, lowering his gun but not dropping it. When he looked at his second in command, he remembered all the good times they had in training, how the older, gruffer looking man was the first person he came out to, how he got a three week suspension for knocking out another soldier for badmouthing 'the fag'.

Calhoun nodded, letting his gun slip back into his inventory. "Kohut." He nodded, acknowledging the closest person he had to a friend.

"I just want you to know that male or female, gay or straight, you're still the Sarge, and I will always respect you." Kohut stated, his rough voice going almost soft, or at least as soft as it could get. The marines tended to beat the softness right out of them. That much was made clear by his next line. "And that I'd deck anybody who says otherwise, got it."

Calhoun gave him what was almost a smile, and a playful punch to the shoulder. "Not if I get to them first, soldier."

Kohut looked down at him, amazed by what was a surprisingly good-humored action from the typically dour sergeant. "You alright, Sarge?" He asked, sounding concerned. "You seem a bit… off."

Suddenly, Calhoun realized that their memories might not have matched up, that the change in his second's might not have been as complete as the change in his. He stood up straight, looking Kohut straight in the eye. The corporal shifted uncomfortably, and Calhoun nearly smirked. He still got it.

"Do you remember the wedding, soldier?" Calhoun asked, his voice low and harsh. He didn't like mentioning it, already didn't like remembering it, but it was the fastest way he could get to make Kohut realize the change.

"Well, yeah, but-" he stopped, his eyes glazing over slightly as his memories reset themselves to the new events. "Oh. That… certainly changes things."

"You bet your sweet patootie it does, soldier." This time, Calhoun did smirk. "Now come on, let's go find the rest of the troops and make sure we're all ready for the players. Just because it's the first time being played doesn't mean we're going to sit around and have a sleepover."

Kohut saluted him, his bulky frame dwarfing the sergeant's small and thin stature- Calhoun was certain that the moddarned programmer made him shorter than he was supposed to be as a woman, just to make some sort of sick joke- but nonetheless showing him the respect he deserved.

It was like he said: gay or straight, male or female, he was still Sergeant Calhoun of the Space Marines, and he had his job to do.