Truth is

A/N: i don't own anything, even the idea for this chapter belongs to my boyfriend, i just wrote it, and he said i should post it so i did, don't get mad at me cause its another new story, sigh, anyways comment we would love to hear what you think of this...um...story o /o i feel so wrong writing this cause i don't support the pairing .

Chapter 1: suspicion

It was a long day at blood gulch, and it didn't look like it was going to get any better. Sarge had already fixed the warthog for what seemed like the thousandth time, and even though Simmons was enthusiastic about helping he was almost as useless as Grif, telling Sarge how to fix his jeep, all he wanted was someone with hands who could hand him tools when he called for it.

"Alright Simmons, we're done here," Sarge said as he rolled out from underneath the warthog, he looked into the direction of blue base and smiled smugly as the thought of their demise danced in his head.

"We did a great job sir, though i don't think your modifications will work," Simmons smiled as he took off his helmet, and scratched at his head.

Sarge glared at the young man; however he couldn't help but smile when he saw the great work his did, turning Simmons into a cyborg.

"It doesn't matter Simmons," Sarge nodded his head then walked back into the base, "as long as it kills those dirty blues."

Maybe it was all in his head, but Simmons could have sworn that something was off about his boss, and sighed it was one of those days where once in a while Sarge would be all mellow. Simmons had always tried to express himself to Sarge, but even his mellow days he doesn't want to talk to him. Simmons thought that he would try talking to his boss again; maybe he could get through the base following Sarge he was going to call to him but the idea of having a private chat with Sarge in his room was beginning to sound better than just talking in the halls where it would always end with Sarge telling him he doesn't have time to talk then leaving Simmons in the middle of the halls with Grif laughing. This time it was going to be different.

Sarge had entered his room and closed the door, he would have locked it, but he knew no one would be dumb enough to barge into his room. He began to talk off his helmet when he heard the door open.

"Sarge..." Simmons started but was stopped by what he saw in front of him. His jaw wet slack and his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of its sockets.

Sarge glared at Simmons, angry blue eyes locked with Simmons's brown eyes, Sarge gritted his teeth.

"Sarge, You're…you're a…" Simmons never finished his sentence for Sarge had thrown his shotgun at his forehead, knocking Simmons to the ground unconscious.

Sarge growled deep in his throat as he shoved the helmet back on his head, "Damn it Simmons now i have to erase your memories," he said meaning only half of what he said.

When Simmons woke up he was i the middle of the hall, his head hurt but he didn't know why or how he got on the floor.

"Simmons!" Sarge started. "You need to stop running into walls," he chuckled then walked back into his room.

Simmons cocked his head to the side, and looked down, there sat his helmet the visor peering up into the young man's face mockingly. He sighed picked up the helmet and jammed it back onto his head. Sarge was right, he needed to stop running into walls, wait why was he running into walls? Simmons shrugged the thought away and walked down towards the kitchen, maybe a glass of water would clear his mind.

"So ran into a wall again?" Grif asked with a smug smile.

"Yeah, don't look so smug at least Sarge cares enough to warn me not to do it again," Simmons snapped.

"Yeah, well, if you would stop being such a kiss ass you wouldn't need to be warned," Grif snapped back.

Simmons sighed, Grif was right, but there was something about Sarge that just drew him to him. He didn't quite understand it, and he didn't believe he was gay; no it was because he thought of Sarge as a father. Simmons paused in his thinking, and grabbed at his head, why did the word 'father' not seem to fit anymore.

"Grif, have you ever noticed how Sarge acts differently on some days, or that once every month I'm running into walls?" Simmons asked.

Grif shrugged; "should i care?" he asked sounding bored out of his mind. "Look if Sarge wants to change up a bit i don't care, it's those days where i don't have to do anything, so don't ruin it for me."

"What the hell do you mean?" Simmons snapped. "You don't do anything anyways!"

"Yeah, so don't fuck that up, the last time you did i had to embarrass myself in front of both teams for a damn surrender," Grif huffed, plopping another cookie into his mouth.

Simmons glared at Grif, and pulled on his arm. "Oh no, you need to start taking care of yourself, I'm not having you ruin my body parts!" Simmons yelled as he pulled the arguing man outside, however the whole Sarge thing was starting to drive him Crazy.