Author's Note: My first contribution to this lovely archive. I really hope you enjoy it! For now this will just be a collection of one shots featuring different kiddy Joes with occasional guest starring, but towards the end I may scrap them together to make something out of it. I've just started finals week (which many of you may know is plot bunny breeding season) so let's hope I can keep this up.

Edit: I noticed my content breaks not showing up. I'll try to fix that.

I don't own G. I. Joe or any of the brand names mentioned here.

Mr. Abernathy looked up to the heavens, half hoping an angel would come down and peacefully solve his two current problems, half hoping for a smiting lightning bolt. He made a habit of praying when he used to step out into the battlefield with a weapon in his hands but he never prayed as hard as when he became a school teacher. Lord have mercy.

"He broke my doll! He won't apologize!"

"I ain't saying sorry!"

"Say sorry!"

"Not for your stupid Barbie doll!"

"It's not Barbie! It's Cover Girl!"

"Who cares?"

"Mr. Abernathy!"

"I done nothing wrong!"

He had one child on either side of him, and just the few feet he managed to push between them kept Wayne and Courtney from ripping each other's throats. Despite Courtney being half the size of the 5th grader, she put up as much of a fight as he did and Mr. Abernathy struggled to keep them both in line.

"All right, all right! Enough!" he shouted above their screams. Wayne tried to get in a last defense but Mr. Abernathy barked at him. "Quiet!"

The two children quit their bickering and resolved to murder with their eyes instead. Both of them bore battle scars from when they wrestled earlier in the grass. Grass roots torn out from the dirt were tangled in Wayne's hair, and Courtney's dressed was recolored with green stains. Mr. Abernathy let go of them, hovering a hand a few inches off just in case one of them, or both, decided to lunge. Nothing happened and he sighed in relief.

"Okay." He kneeled down to their eye level. Courtney broke off the death stare and looked at Mr. Abernathy which made Wayne believe he had won a little victory and he sneered. Courtney flashed him a furious look, but otherwise kept her attention on Mr. Abernathy. "Start from the beginning. What happened?"

"I was playing with Cover Girl, when Wayne-"

"I didn't do nothing!" Wayne burst out, but was hushed by Mr. Abernathy.

"Quiet, Sneeden. Let her talk."

Courtney looked at Wayne with triumph before she continued. "Wayne ran to me and he stepped on Cover Girl!" She held up a battered doll and its severed limbs in separate hands. "She's all broken!"

Mr. Abernathy took the doll parts and rolled them over in his hands. The head was snapped clean off and the same went for the rest of the doll's arms and legs. From classroom chatter he knew it was the latest edition in the Cover Girl line and couldn't have been more than a few days old. He looked at Wayne and wondered if knowing this would convict him. It was probably best not to; guilt was dragging the boy to the floor, shoulders slumped and head low.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Sneeden?"

Wayne crinkled his face and crossed his arms. "It hadn't been on purpose!"

"Tell me what happened. Why were you running to Courtney?"

"I wasn't running to her. Dash threw the football too far and I didn't know she was there." He tried to shrug off the guilt. "It was an accident."

"He never said sorry!" Courtney whined.

"I don't gotta! It wasn't on purpose!"

Mr. Abernathy raised a hand to silence them. Courtney huffed and Wayne was red in the face, more from shame than anger. "You know you did it, and no one here thinks you did it on purpose," he began. Wayne looked away and Mr. Abernathy put a hand on his shoulder. "Apologizing doesn't mean you're guilty of anything, but it will make Courtney feel better."

Wayne slapped away his hand and glared at them both. "No way! I don't have to!" Bolting across the grassy field, he fled and Mr. Abernathy shouted after him, ordering him to come back. "You ain't my teacher! Mr. Colton is! I don't need to listen to you!"

Mr. Abernathy sighed, watching the boy shrink before he cut a corner and disappeared. Mr. Abernathy bent down to Courtney, who looked sour. "I'm sorry, Courtney. I'll make sure he apologizes."

Courtney flipped her hair, shaking the grass out of it. "It's okay, Mr. Colton. Boys are stupid." She held out open palms. "Can I have Cover Girl back?"

Mr. Abernathy chuckled at the comment and handed her the doll. "Are you going to try and fix her?"

"Yeah," she said, taking it. "I'm gonna take her to a doctor. Thank you." With the broken doll in hand, she dashed off.

...

Dashiell spun a basketball on his fingertip, trying to look as casual as possible. Occasionally, he glanced over at the brunette on the far side of the lunch table, hoping she was watching his seemingly effortless expertise. A shout of "Dash!" jolted him out of his concentration and the basketball lopped off his finger. Dashiell lurched forward, fumbling for the ball, and slipped off the table top with the least amount of grace. It rolled past the brunette and he flushed in embarrassment when she saw him chuckling at his blunder.

Wayne stomped angrily to him and Dashiell shot straight up to face him, just as furious.

"You got me in trouble!"

"You made me drop the ball!"

"Shut up! Why'd you throw the football so far?"

"Well why didn't you catch it?"

"Cause you threw it too far! I broke Courtney's Barbie!"

"That's not my fault!"

"Yeah it is!"

A sharp hush from the brunette broke their quarrel, and Wayne whipped his head around, hissing back at her. "You hush!"

"Hey!" Dashiell shoved him. "Don't yell at her! Be quiet!"

Wayne rubbed his shoulder, frowning. "What the hell's that for? You like her or something?"

"No way! Shut up!" Dashiell stuck his hands in his pocket and dropped down on the bench. "Just go get the ball."

"I don't care about the stupid ball."

"Go get it! You made me drop it, so you get it."

Wayne rolled his eyes with a loud groan. "Fine. I'll get your stupid ball. Then imma hit you in the head with it for getting me in trouble!"

The basketball traveled to a water fountain and Wayne dribbled it absentmindedly as he walked back to his bemoaning friend. A curious glance spotted the girl reading a French book about airplanes, but he found himself staring at the doll next right to it. He came up closer to her than he meant to and she closed the book, turning around to face him.

"Do you want something?"

"That Cover Girl?" Wayne asked, pinning the ball under a foot. He pointed at the doll and she arched an eyebrow. His hand was hovering over the doll and she nudged it and nodded, letting him know he had her permission to hold it. Propped on an elbow, the brunette watched Wayne inspect the doll and a corner of her mouth pricked into a smirk.

"You like playing with dolls?"

"What? No!" Wayne cried, dropping the doll like it was on fire. She frowned and he scooped it up quickly. "Er, s… sorry," he muttered. He dusted it off hastily before handing back to her.

She took the doll away and brushed off its dress. "It's okay."

Wayne saw Dash waving at him madly from the corner of his eye, but he ignored it. "I mean, I don't like dolls, but I know someone who does… Can I have it?"

"You want her?" She thought for a while, combing Cover Girl's hair with her fingers as she mulled over her thoughts. "Okay, but I want something back. She was a birthday present and I love her but I don't like dolls a lot. So I won't trade for another doll!"

"Like planes?" She perked up and Wayne jerked a thumb back at nothing in particular. "My friend Brad gave me a book on planes. He loves 'em but I don't care. I'll trade you the book for the doll. Deal?"

She flashed a grin. "Deal." Handing him the doll, she asked, "When can I have it?"

"I'll give it to you at second recess. What's your name?"

"Alison. My teacher's Mr. Flagg," she said, smiling. "Thanks!"

"Mr. Flagg? Where's that?"

"Block D. What about you?"

"Block A. That stupid guy's in my class, too." He motioned to Dashiell, who was writhing and spinning on his heels until Alison glanced over, when he jerked frozen.

"Right… stupid."

"I'm Wayne," he said, poking his chest with a thumb. Then he turned and walked a few steps before pausing and slowly turning around again. "Uh… thanks for this." He waved the doll and Alison smiled.

When Wayne made it back to Dashiell, his friend was raving. "What was that? What'd you say to her? Wait, why'd you even talk to her? What did she say? No, what didyou say about me?"

"The heck's wrong with you?" Wayne asked, shoving the basketball into Dashiell's chest. "I traded her doll for an airplane book."

Dashiell glanced at the doll, was about to ask a question about it, but then shook his head. "Does she know who I am?"

"Huh? I dunno. I just said you in my class."

"You didn't tell her?"

"How was I supposed to know I gotta tell her your name?"

"What the hell? Go back and tell her!"

"Why I gotta do that?"

"Because you're my friend!"

Wayne groaned. "Hey Alison!" he hollered. Alison looked up from her book and saw Wayne clenching a cursing, red-faced Dashiell by the neck. "This guy's name is Dash! Got it?"

She nodded confused and understanding at the same time and Dashiell shoved Wayne off of him, huffing madly. "Not like that you idiot!"

"Make up your goddamn mind! I'm leaving!" Wayne turned on his heels and marched away from the lunch tables, abandoning his fretting friend.

...

From the lunch tables to the field was a bit of a walk. Wayne glanced at the clock tower erect in the middle of the campus and the two snakes it had for time hands told him there were only five more minutes of first recess. Quickening his pace to a jog, Wayne hoped he could make it in time to Courtney before the bell rang. He didn't want to bear the guilt any longer than he needed to. Wayne squeeze the doll to reassure himself but his strength went unchecked and the pop he heard was anything but reassuring. Still jogging, Wayne glanced down at the doll in his hands and ran his eyes over the doll, checking how badly he had hurt it. He had just breathed a sigh of relief when he crashed heads with two boys and sent them dropping like flies.

"What kind of ill-mannered beast-"

"-doesn't watch where he's going?"

There were only so many times Beach Head could admit he was in the wrong, but to boys like Tomax and Xamot, there were absolutely none.

"Watch where you're going! You got two brains! Use 'em!"

"You smelly hillbilly hick!"

"Don't speak to us like that!"

"Whatever," Wayne groaned and he tried to push his way past them but they shoved him back.

"You can't go past us-"

"-without an apology first."

"Fine." Wayne held up a fist. "I'm sorry imma punch in your face if you don't let me through."

Tomax and Xamot sniggered when they noticed the doll.

"You're such a big tough boy, Sneeden."

"It takes guts to show how much of a girl you are!"

"Wait a minute." Xamot peered at the doll which Wayne snapped back and hid behind his back.

"That's a Cover Girl."

"How much did we sell the one we stole?"

"Like 60 dollars."

"That, my brother-"

"-is quite a hefty sum."

Tomax held out a hand. "Give it to us and we won't hurt you."

"Hell no," Wayne growled. "This ain't for you!"

"How did you even get one?"

"Someone like you-"

"-can hardly afford a doll like that."

They barked in laughter and Wayne slapped away a hand that wanted to pick at his worn clothes. It's not like they were ever not tattered, but that day especially they were in the worst state after wrangling with Courtney in the grass. For a tiny 4th grade girl, she had pulled apart the seams of his shirt. Granted, it wasn't in the best of condition to begin with, but it was sturdy. 'Was' being the key word. Tomax and Xamot were snickering precisely at that. Xamot pinched his nose and fanned the air around him.

"It's horrid, brother!"

"What an awful stench!"

"Does your mother smell like this too?"

Wayne growled and pulled Tomax in by the scruff, making a special effort to breathe as heavily as he could. "Don't talk about my momma or I'll break your nose."

"You're vile!" Xamot shouted, and shoved Wayne off of his brother.

"You dare touch me?"

"We'll show him."

Tomax and Xamot raised their hands straight up and Wayne half expected a teacher to appear but instead, a posse of boys in red sweaters skittered out behind a corner and surrounded Wayne.

"Chocolate pudding for everyone-"

"-if you get us that doll!"

The four boys lunged at Wayne all at once and he went down, buried under a mass of writhing bodies.

"Get offa me!" Wayne screamed and he kicked off a boy who tried to pin down his legs.

The others were heavy on his chest and one boy was working on his fingers, trying to wrench Cover Girl out of his hand. Wayne clamped down harder than ever on the doll and he roared, head-butting the closest boy and thrashing free of the other two's hold. When he stood up, a boy tackled him from behind and Wayne crashed into the ground face forward, gashing his chin on the concrete. He felt the doll yanked out of his hand and he shouted for it but two boys threw their weight on him and the wind knocked clean out of his chest.

Gasping for air, he barely noticed the whip of strawberry blonde hair and a couple of angrily thrown punches that lightened the load on his back. Wayne heaved, and turned on his back, sucking in as much oxygen as he could to make the spinning stars disappear. It was oddly quiet and he blinked out the stars in his eyes to see Courtney waving a fist at the retreating boys. He was propped up on one elbow when she turned around and offered him a hand.

Wayne grunted and got up on his own, which made her frown.

"You're welcome," she said.

"I didn't need your help."

Her huff of breath was hot with annoyance and she rolled her eyes when he was looking wildly at the ground around them. "What are you doing?"

"I lost something. Those bastards," he clenched his teeth and glanced at the clock. One minute wasn't enough to chase them down.

"What did you lose?"

"Nothing."

"Fine. Be like that."

Wayne's heart suddenly went jack rabbit crazy when his stomach gave a pained growl.

Courtney tried to smother her smile. "Are you hungry?"

"No." His stomach growled again and he shut his eyes, peeved at the worst possible timing. "I ain't hungry."

He was doing his hardest to stare at the most interesting pebble on the ground when Courtney's rummaging caught his attention. With a hum of delight when she found what she needed, she pulled out a Band-Aid and a couple dollar bills from her pocket and held them out to Wayne. He looked at them like she was offering him a fistful of dirt.

"What's that?"

"It's a Band-Aid for your chin. And take the dollars too." She spoke a little quieter. "You never eat lunch."

Wayne sucked in a breath and his eyes flashed. "I don't need it!"

"Just take it!" she yelled and tried to swipe for his hand but he whisked it away from her.

He had no intention of slapping the offerings away, but his hand swatted hers and the Band-Aid and the money launched from her palm. It fluttered down a foot away and landed on the ground like his gut did, except he was sure it went straight down and burned in hell.

Wayne opened his mouth to say the one thing he wanted to say the most, but nothing came out. Courtney glared at him and then kneeled to pick up her stuff. He was frozen where he stood, and only the hammering of his heart kept him from being a complete statue.

Courtney jerked up and had tears in her eyes.

Wayne finally found his voice. "I'm-"

The blare of the bell cut through his words and he stood there, stunned. He was back to square one, which was staring blankly at the tearful girl in front of him.

She crumpled what was in her hand. "You're such a jerk!" she shrieked, and ran off.

"Wait," he started to utter but he couldn't get out more words than that.

...

Guilt tore a new hole in his heart and made a home for itself. For the rest of the day it kindled remorse for what he had done and completely obliterated any chance of paying attention in class. Replaying the scene in his head and feeling the same amount of shame again and again seemed like a better time spent rather than learning the fifty states and their capitals, according to his brain. Mr. Colton picked up on his inattention and slapped down graded quiz papers on his desk. Wayne jarred out of his faze and snapped his back straight in his seat, glancing fearfully at the teacher leering down on him.

"Are you slacking off, Mr. Sneeden?"

"No, sir!" Wayne shouted. "I just ain't… feeling well."

"Yes, I can tell," Mr. Colton said, and rifled through the quizzes. He picked out Wayne's and put it on his desk, showing him the paltry score. "Not nearly your best. We learned these yesterday. Do you need a medic? …er, I mean do you need to go to the nurse?"

"No, sir," Wayne said, but when Mr. Abernathy opened the door, he sunk into his seat. "Actually, yes."

Mr. Colton flicked his eyes from the boy to Mr. Abernathy, who also looked at Wayne, although he seemed much more displeased. They spoke in low voices for a few seconds with glances at Wayne in between. Wayne took his quiz and held it so close to his face he was cross-eyed by the time Mr. Colton put a hand on his shoulder.

"Class, you're dismissed. Five minutes early for lunch as a treat for doing well on your quizzes. Except you Delgado. And you Moore." The two boys had a foot out the door before they groaned and trudged back in. "Report to Mrs. Cisarovna for lunch duty."

"You mean Mrs. Destro? She's evil!" Hector Delgado howled.

"She prefers Mrs. Cisarovna. Don't you say a word, Moore." The red headed boy snapped his mouth shut. "If I don't hear from her that you two wiped down the tables today, I'll hand you to Mr. Destro myself."

They groaned but obediently walked to the school office. With that mattered settled, Mr. Colton gave Wayne's shoulder a tight squeeze. The boy had known better than to even twitch but at that moment he shuddered.

"I think you know what this is about, Sneeden."

"It was an accident!" Wayne looked pleadingly at Mr. Abernathy. "It really, really, really was!"

"I don't care if it was an accident, Wayne. My student comes into my classroom crying because she said you slapped her and refused her help after you got in a fight with some boys, which by the way is a whole other matter. It's your duty as a man to suck up your pride and apologize to her. Let her know you know what you did wrong."

Wayne dropped his head.

"Did you hear Mr. Abernathy?" Mr. Colton asked. "Are you going to apologize to Courtney?"

He nodded, but then looked up with a twisted expression. "But I dunno know how to."

"You just have to say two words," Mr. Abernathy said.

"Well…" Mr. Colton drew out the word in thought. "Girls might need a little more. Give her a gift. Pluck some flowers or something."

Mr. Abernathy chuckled. "With all due respect, Mr. Colton, that might not work on Courtney. Look." He knelt down to eye level with Wayne. "Girls like flowers and pretty toys and nice smelling things, but that doesn't mean that they only like those stuff."

"Then what do they like?" Wayne asked.

"I guess… anything sincere. I'm a little rusty," Mr. Abernathy admitted, and he scratched his head with an awkward laugh. "Either way, the important thing is that you apologize."

Wayne nodded. "Okay. At second recess."

"Not going to lunch?"

"No, I need to think."

The teachers shared an amused look.

"Well good luck to you, Sneeden. If she comes back crying a third time though, I'm slapping you with enough detentions to last you until grad school," Mr. Abernathy warned.

Wayne winced. "Please don't, sir. I promise."

The men spent the rest of lunch chatting outside of the classroom while Wayne had his chin resting on his hands, pondering on the words Mr. Abernathy had left him. He was still left a little lost when class resumed and Mr. Colton let him have it easy during their English lesson when he thought a little too hard to pay attention. Class was almost over yet Wayne still didn't muster his courage to speak to Courtney. But that would come later, right?

By the time second recess came around, Wayne had a new energy coursing through him. Dashiell was picking out which ball he wanted to impress Alison with when Wayne shoved a book at him.

"What?" Dashiell asked, glancing at the book.

"Give it to Alison for me."

Dashiell brightened and he gripped it as if it was gold. "All right! But where are you going?" he called after a running Wayne. He didn't get a response.

On the field where the 4th grade girls tended to play around, Wayne scanned the area and picked out Courtney sitting with Shana underneath some shade. When he bounded up to them, Shana shot him a glare.

"Go away."

He looked at her and back to Courtney and then jerked his head back. "Can I talk to you?"

"Don't go," Shana told Courtney but the girl sighed and dusted off her dress.

"Only for a little bit."

Wayne nodded eagerly and they walked out into the grassy area, close by where they had wrestled that morning.

He hoped he had enough courage for this. "I wanted to say-," Wayne began.

"What? I can't hear you," Courtney said, leaning in closer. Wayne arched back, suddenly flushed red and all the scraps of courage he scraped together burned to ashes.

"I mean... I want to say… uh… goddamn it! Here." He pulled out a toy that had been lodged in his pocket and presented it to Courtney. "I'm, uh… sorry. You know. For breaking your doll."

Courtney took the toy and looked at it with interest while Wayne stuck his hands back in his pocket and rocked side to side. "It's mine," he said. "It's my favorite but I'm giving it to you. It's an army tank. Look"-he pointed at the toy in her hands-"those are missiles. And if you press this button…"

Wayne pressed a button on the underside of the toy tank and three missiles launched out of the plastic model. He ran to scoop them up from where they fell and he shoved them back in the toy.

"I call it the Wolverine." He searched her face for an answer. "Do you like it?" She smiled and just kept turning the toy around in her hands and Wayne grew nervous in her silence. "I know it's not a toy for girls but…"

"I love it," Courtney beamed. "It's super cool!"

Wayne mirrored her smile. "It does a whole bunch of other stuff too."

"Really? Like what?" Courtney settled into the grass and Wayne followed suite, slower.

"What about Shana?"

"Shana?" Courtney swiveled her head to see her red-headed friend kneeling beside the quietest boy in their class. They were by a fence separating the schoolyard from neighboring houses and the boy pressed something into Shana's hand and she used it to feed the dog on the other side. Courtney smiled at Wayne in a way that made his heart skip a beat. "She'll be fine. Can you show me what else it does?"

"Yeah. The top comes off here and you can see the inside. There's a guy that comes with the tank and you can make him sit inside it but I lost him a long time ago."

"Do you have a girl to put in?"

"No. Girls don't drive tanks in the army."

Courtney pouted. "Why not?"

"I dunno," Wayne said. He racked his brain to say something good. "'Cause the girls are doing other stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Uh..." Wayne blanked out. Pain was smothered all over his face, and Courtney snorted.

"The tanks are probably the coolest. I wanna drive tanks! I'll be the first girl ever!"

Wayne had to search the depths of his brain again for nice things to say. "I think you… can do it." His tone had a wavering end like he was asking for approval if he said the right thing, which was exactly what he was doing.

Courtney beamed and Wayne let go of the breath he was holding.

"Do you really mean it?"

"'Course." Trying to avoid exhausting his brain, he pointed her attention back to the toy. "There's more stuff it can do. Like the tracks come off too..."

Mr. Abernathy couldn't stop the smile from breaking out when Courtney came in that day with a new toy displayed proudly on her desk. Shana lent her a Polly Pocket to stick in the driver's seat. Normally, she was one of the most attentive students in his class but she fiddled with the toy so much he had to threaten to take it away if she didn't put it away. At first she put up a bit of a fight, but it was tucked away in her drawer for the rest of the year and only came out when the recess bell rang, though Mr. Abernathy never failed to notice the comfort of the tank tracks rolling under her fingers when she was stuck on math problems.