Damon Baird took a deep breath of the salty ocean air, cradling his lancer in his arms as he walked through the assortment of tropical trees and brush.

Samantha Byrne was a few paces ahead, and he caught his eyes traveling over her form for the tenth time that night. They were on patrol, but the blonde found being paired with Sam fairly distracting. He gave her the once over, starting from her boots to the back of her head, pausing at key locations.

Man, she was gorgeous. He glanced at her long, slender legs again when he was sure she wasn't looking.

"Hey Blondie, when you're done staring at my ass, you might want to keep your eyes open. We're supposed to be on watch, remember?"

Shit. Oh well.

Sam's voice was like candy; addictively sweet, leaving him craving more. Baird was sure his cheeks flushed a tad as she glanced at him over her shoulder, absentmindedly batting the thick lashes which framed her deep, chocolate brown eyes. She smiled at him when she saw the spilt second of embarrassment on his face.

"Oh you were, were you?" She cocked her brow, her tone soft and playful.

Baird recovered quickly, a smart ass grin already tugging at the edges of his lips.

"How can I not?" Though his expression said otherwise, his tone was strangely genuine, and now it was Sam's turn to blush. The tips of her ears turned the slightest bit red, and Baird quickened his pace so they were shoulder to shoulder. He looked Sam over, and the brunette met his powder blue gaze for as long as she could before bashfulness got the best of her. She lowered her head and smiled self-consciously.

"What are you starting at?" Sam asked, voice hushed. Who would have thought that Damon Baird could give the motor mouth south-islander butterflies? He smiled at her sudden shyness.

"You of course. Who do you think?" He countered, his soft tone mirroring Sam's. "You're gorgeous."

Sam closed her eyes for a second, grinning. She was just praying that the blonde hadn't noticed her now ruddy completion. But she had the feeling that he had.

The brunette gear waited a beat before speaking again. This time though, her accented voice was back to its normal snarky confidence.

"So, has it really been by chance that we're always paired for watch duty? Or am I right in thinking that it's been your idea all along?"

Sam faced him with her know-it-all stare, waiting for a response. Baird's heart jumped in his throat, but he didn't miss a beat.

"Don't flatter yourself," he said with a roll of his eyes. "We've been through this already, sweetheart. You're really just not my type."

Baird began to walk ahead of her, and Sam let out a disgusted laugh. First he tells me how beautiful I am, and then he pulls that shit. What an ass…

Yes, Baird was shy, she knew. Maybe a little scared even. She could understand why; this was a big step for him. Baird had never truly loved anyone before in his life, so naturally the particularly antisocial mechanic combated his feelings with sarcasm, basically out of instinct. She was prepared for it. But she also knew how he truly felt about her, so there was no hiding from it anymore.

She opened her mouth to make a comeback, but instead opted to grab Baird by his chest plate, and whirled him around, slamming him into the truck of a palm tree with a low thud. Baird couldn't hide the surprise or amusement from his eyes as Sam brought her face close to his. He could feel her hot breath on his face as she panted from the sudden excursion.

"Baird," Sam's voice was low, her eyes half lidded as an impish grin lit up her face. "Shut up."

The brunette brought her lips to his and kissed him; slowly at first, but steadily becoming more aggressive towards the finish. She gripped his chest plate tighter as Baird tugged on her lower lip, pulling away slowly.

"Make me," he challenged, his voice low and seductive. He met Sam's gaze defiantly as she caught her breath, a wicked smile creeping across his lips.

"You mean like the way I did last night?" Sam countered. Oh yeah, two can play at this game.

She let her hands roam over his shoulders, taking pleasure in the fact that he shuddered as they touched. Sam slowly ran her fingertips down his bare arms as she pressed her body as closely to his as their bulky armor would allow. Baird blinked, and Sam grinned inwardly at his hesitation.

"Make me," he repeated. His was voice even lower than before, and he bit his lip, smiling.

"Oh, I'll make you…"

Sam leaned in close to his lips, but this time she took the blonde off guard with her sudden aggression. They barely breathed as they kissed almost violently; Baird's both hands cupped Sam's cheeks for leverage as her palms came to rest against the back of his head. The female gear thrust her tongue against his with more force then necessary and she laughed into his mouth after doing so.

"You bitch…" Baird panted, grinning. His hands slowly moved from her face down to her chest, before coming together at the small of her back. He reached under her tank top and felt her body tense for a second as he caressed her soft skin.

After a few moments, Sam's hands began fumbling over the blonde's chest piece, fingers working feverishly to undo the clasps. Just then, Baird pulled away, taking hold of her wrists.

"Wait, wait, wait," he managed between breaths, whispering. "No, no, don't."

Sam looked at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement, attempting to conceal her disappointment.

"What's wrong? Chickening out already?" She asked, voice low. Baird didn't even seem to notice her words as his eyes scanned the dense growth around them.

"Shh, did you hear that?"

The fear in his eyes was immediately sobering, and Sam found herself reaching for her sidearm, eyes searching the surrounding darkness for their lancers, both of which they'd carelessly tossed aside moments ago.

"Sam, we're being followed."

Baird's voice was almost inaudibly low, and Sam strained to hear him as her mind raced. She gripped her pistol in her hand tightly as Baird reached up to touch his earpiece.

"Eh—don't move, lover boy."

A deep voice rumbled from out of nowhere before three figures immerged from the plant growth.

"That's right, hands where we can see 'em asshole."

The man; shorter, muscular build, kept his Hammerburst trained on Baird's head while his companions aimed for Sam. All three men wore black do-rags which resembled Marcus', and black bandanas covered their noses and mouths. Paired with the black paint around their eyes and dark clothing, they were next to impossible to spot at night unless they were standing ten feet away, like they were now.

Baird's one arm remained frozen in the air while his other hand gripped Sam's wrist tightly. He stood unblinking as the muzzle of the man's rifle got closer to his face.

"Don't move a muscle." The figure gestured with his chin towards the two gears, and his buddies were on them in seconds, stripping them of their side arms. One of the men, who, like the others, wore a motley assortment of light armor plates painted black, tore Sam's pistol out of her grip rather roughly, causing Baird to tense up.

"What do you want?" Baird's voice was low, but steady.

"She's the one," the first guy stated, ignoring the blonde haired gear as his gaze was fixed on Sam.

"Are you sure?" questioned the other, who's brow knitted skeptically.

"Oh, I'm sure. You're the one we want, aren't you…" He reached out to stroke Sam's cheek, and Baird pulled her close out of reflex before the brunette had time to react.

"And what the fuck is it to you?" Baird snarled, forgetting about the now five guns pointed at his skull.

A pair of snipers revealed themselves from cover behind a couple of large boulders, training the barrels of their Longshots on the two.

The leader of the group seemed satisfied with Baird's protective reply, and gestured to his two companions. They grabbed the male gear's arms and the first guy wrenched Sam from Baird's grip, putting his gloved palm over her mouth to silence her while he shouldered his rifle. Sam struggled against him, but he was just too strong. He brought his pistol to her temple.

"Uh, uh, uh— shh…" He leaned close to her ear as he soothed. His hand was pressed so tightly over her mouth and nose that Sam was forced to quiet down to avoid suffocation.

"Yes, that's better." She cringed, pulling her head away as she felt his breath on her neck.

"Let—her—go! Ugh!" Baird struggled against the grip of the other two men with all his might. The bigger of his captors grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back before placing his hand over the blonde's mouth.

"See COG? He said he'd get even with you." The man growled as he held Baird's right arm tightly behind his back, his comrade gripping his left. "You think you can come into our city and fuck with us?" Baird's blue eyes darted between the men and Sam, blazing with anger as well as fear.

"Fenix to Baird, do you copy?" Marcus Fenix's voiced crackled in Baird's earpiece. "Baird, come in! There's an unidentified craft off shore to the east."

The kidnappers looked at each other with wide eyes as they overheard the sergeant's gruff voice. One of them mouthed 'Fenix', somewhat shocked, as if he hadn't believed he existed.

"The patrol boat on your side is non-responsive. What do you see? Come on, answer me, goddamnit! Where the hell are you?!"

Baird used the momentary distraction to his advantage. He sunk his teeth into the bare palm over his mouth, causing a yelp of pain to pass the lips of the person it belonged to. The blonde elbowed the other guy in the jaw, and then pressed his earpiece.

"Marcus, it's an ambush! We're—" The guy with the now bloody hand hit Baird hard in the ribs and regained his hold on him.

"Barns, let's go! Leave that asshole!" the man who now had Sam in a headlock shouted, holding both of her wrists behind her back with his free hand as he dragged her along roughly. He couldn't cover her mouth as he struggled to get her back to their boat.

"Sam! Sam I'm sorry!" Baird shouted as he heard the base alarm go off.

"Damon!" Sam shrieked, struggling with all her strength against her captor's strong grip. "Let go of me! Damon! No!"

"Sam, we'll come for you! We'll—" One of the men brought the butt of his rifle down hard on the back of his head, and Baird slumped to the ground, out cold.