Title: RVB-Reassemble

Genre: Action/Humor/Romance

Rating: T for strong language, strong violence, crude humor, sexual humor, a lot of nut shots, and sexist remarks.

Pairings: Red Team/Ooc/Blue Team

Summary:

With a rivalry still going on between Red and Blue, Command Center finally gets fed up and sends in someone to straighten them out. A former Freelancer named Tennessee.


Chapter One


Outpost 17-Red Base

The day had started out as a beautiful, peaceful day. The sun was shining warm rays of light upon the earth of the planet while a gentle breeze blew through the valley. Birds were actually singing in the trees, and there were gentle sounds of wild life within the woods surrounding the entire Outpost. It was a perfect day to just relax and enjoy.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! YOU SON OF A BITCH! I HATE YOOOOUUUU!"

Or not.

The sound of a man's screams echoed right off the cliffs of the mountains surrounding the valley, causing birds to take flight from being startled and all wild life ceased their sounds. The screams were soon followed by gunfire with sparks of bullets ricocheting off of rocks.

"What the fuck!" Minor Junior Private Negative First Class Dexter Grif exclaimed from where he had been relaxing under a tree when he clearly should have been scouting out the Blue Base for whatever devious plans that they could have been cooking up to finally defeat the Red Team. Looking down from the hill where he sat, Grif spotted the familiar Maroon suited Private running out from behind a cluster of rocks, screaming like a mad man and waving his hands in the air.

Clearly, and totally obviously, something was wrong with Private First Class Dick Simmons. Other than the fact that he was a complete know it all geek.

"What the fuck is he doing now?" Grif asked himself as he shoved himself to his feet and began hurrying down the hill to find out. "Hey! Simmons! What the hell are you doing?" He called to his fellow Red.

"FUCKING HELL! GRIF! ANYONE! HELP ME! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT! IT'S WRAPPING ITS EVIL SELF AROUND MY FUCKING NECK!" Simmons only managed to scream as he continued to run around in circles, waving his arms high above his head.

"Wha-?" Grif started to ask, tilting his head to the side.

"What the tarnation is going on here? Is those god damned Blues? Are they finally attacking us?" came the booming voice of Sarge as he came racing outside of the base with his Spanish only speaking robot; Lopez right behind him. Both were well armed and ready for a battle if there was to be one.

Simmons, however, didn't answer but continued to scream and run around in circles, still waving his hands in the air or digging at his armor as if trying to get something out.

"How the hell should I know? I was just doing what you told me to do and he started screaming like a deranged idiot." Grif tried.

Sarge shot him a look before jabbing a finger at the orange suited Private. "That's a load of hogwash, Grif! Ya never do what Ah tell ya! Now what the hell did you do to Simmons?" He snapped.

"Me? I didn't do anything! Why do you always blame me for everything?" Grif exclaimed in offense.

"Because! I can! I am the Commanding Officer! I can blame ya for everything if I want! Now what the hell did you do to Simmons?" Sarge barked.

"It wasn't Grif, Sarge." came the laughing pink armored Private, Donut jogging up towards them. He obviously had seen what happened with Simmons and thought it was just too funny to pass up a good laugh. "Simmons has a snake in his armor. It was that Blue, Tucker." He explained.

"Blues? God damn them! There always trying to kill off mah best men! Why can't they do something a little more productive? Like kill Grif! That would be more productive than trying to kill Simmons! Who the hell am I suppose to order around and follow meh around like a good dog if Simmons dies?" Sarge exclaimed, sounding angry.

Grif just growled to himself.

"GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT! IT'S FUCKING COLD AND SLIMY AND I THINK IT'S BITING ME!"Simmons cried out still running around in circles and screaming.

"Hey! Simmons! Follow the safety standards! Stop, drop and roll!" Sarge suggested loudly.

Grif groaned again while Donut doubled over and clutched his sides as he began laughing even harder. "Dude, Sarge. That's for fire."

"What? Simmons is on fire? I don't see smoke! And I don't smell smoke! Simmons! Put it out! Don't burn to death or anything! Or better yet, run by Grif and set him on fire!" Sarge yelled.

"What the fuck, Sarge? That's totally messed up! And it's not a fire! It's a god damned snake!" Grif exclaimed.

Sarge whirled around to look at him, almost startled. "What? There's a snake on fire? Where? I don't see one." He asked, even looking around trying to find the burning snake.

Again with another groan, Grif sighed in aggravation as he shook his head vigorously. "No! There's a snake in Simmon's suit!" He exclaimed.

"There's a snake on fire in Simmon's suit? Well help him, ya lazy dumbass! Get the snake out of his suit and put out the fire! And if it's dead, we can eat it!" Sarge then chuckled to himself. "I've eaten snake before. It's mm-mm good. And better yet, maybe we'll get lucky. And it'll bite ya. Or light ya on fire! And ya die! Or even better! It'll bite ya and then burn ya and then ya die!"

Grif glared at the Red Leader, his shoulders slumped. He didn't know why the hell he put up with Sarge. Oh, yeah. He was the god damned Commanding Officer of the Red Team. He had to put up with him. "I hate you." He then turned and marched over to where Simmons was still running in circles and screaming and waving his hands wildly in the air. "Simmons! Stop running and hold still, you ass!" He snapped.

"GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!" Simmons went on and on, still running in circles and making it very hard for Grif to grab a hold of him.

"WILL YOU STOP MOVING! I'LL GET THE FUCKING THING OUT OF YOUR ARMOR!"

Ten minutes later, Grif was stepping away from the bushes where he had released the baby snake that had been in Simmons' suit, who was cowering behind Sarge and Donut with small whimpering sounds were coming out of the Private as he watched his fellow Red release the evil scaled animal.

"Why are you letting it go, Grif! Kill the abomination! It'll come back for me if you don't kill it! Kill it!" Simmons begged.

Grif turned around and went back to the other three, shaking his head. "Oh, god. You're such a pussy, Simmons. It was just a half an foot baby snake. It wasn't even poisonous or anything!" He grated at him.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! LET'S SEE YOU ACT SO BRAVE WHEN A BAT ENDS UP IN YOUR FUCKING ARMOR! THEN I'LL BE THE ONE CALLING YOU A PUSSY!" Simmons snapped.

Shuddering at the mere thought, Grif shook his head. He didn't even want to think about there being a bat stuffed into his armor. It was already making him start to twitch to think about it. "Don't even say that, you asshole! You know I hate bats! Besides! Bats have rabies! Snakes don't! Don't be such a fucking pussy!"

"FUCK YOU! AND I HATE SNAKES! SO SHUT UP!" Simmons snapped.

"All right! Enough with the bickering about bats and snakes, even though they both give meh the heebie jeebies!" Sarge snapped at both of them. That just made Simmons, Grif and Donut stare at him with Lopez just doing whatever the hell he wanted in the background. And that was usually just muttering to himself in Spanish. "All right! How the hell did a stinking Blue even get close to ya to stuff a snake into yer armor, Simmons?"

Simmons groaned, shuddering at the reminder that there had been a snake in his armor. He shook his head as he turned towards Sarge to explain. "I was doing my rounds like you asked me to, Sarge. And that asshole, Tucker just jumped on me and stuffed it down the crease of my suit and helmet! SOMEONE!" He shot Grif a dark look. "Just had to tell him that I hated snakes! So I guess he just decided to prank me."

Grif just snickered to himself as he held up his hands in his own defense.

"Grif! That's betrayal! Telling a stinking Blue one of yer own team mate's stupid weakness! Are ya betraying us, Private?" Sarge demanded, pointing his shot gun at the orange colored soldier.

Grif yelped and tried to duck behind Donut, who also dove to the side to avoid shielding him from getting shot. "NO! Everyone knows that Simmons is afraid of fucking snakes! Besides, that was a long time ago!" He yelped cringing away.

"God damn it. Ye're suppose to say yes and give meh a reason to shoot yer ass." Sarge grumbled lowering his shot gun. "Or at least yer face. Because I was aiming for yer face."

"God, I'm surrounded by idiots." Lopez muttered in Spanish.

"Exactly, Lopez! I'm glad you agree with meh about shooting Grif!" Sarge called over his shoulder.

"I don't fucking care what you do to Grif. Shoot him for all I care. And then shoot yourself and do me a favor." Lopez said in Spanish dryly.

"I know! Grif is a dumbass! Ya know, it's almost creepy that you and I are thinking alike. But then again, ya know what they say. Great minds think alike." Sarge chuckled.

"You're an idiot." Lopez replied.

Sarge nodded, as he tossed his thumb towards Grif. "I know! Grif is an idiot!" He said chuckling again.

Grif glared at both Sarge and Lopez, who he thought was agreeing with Sarge. He didn't know a word that the robot was even saying and it was starting to piss him off. AGAIN! "Dude, that's so not cool. I fucking hate you all." He grumbled while Simmons was still shuddering about the thought of a snake in his armor.


Blue Base

Laughing his ass off, Tucker was running back up to the base, slightly doubled over from laughing so hard. He couldn't believe it had worked so perfectly. It was the oldest trick in the book. And it still got that smart ass, Simmons.

Of course, hearing the gunfire from ten minutes ago, it had brought out the rest of the Blue team to find out what was going on.

All four who still had been at the base; Caboose, Church; who was basically a floating ball of metal with a glowing crystal eye in the center and their newest addition to the team; Dave; or better known as former Agent Washington, all came out of the base to look off in the direction of the Reds' base. He was with the Blues after faking his death; with Caboose and Church's help, to avoid life in a prison cell for some of the stupid things he did in his life as a Freelancer.

"Hey! Tucker! What's going on over there?" Wash asked as he gripped his semi automatic. "Why are the Reds shooting? Are they under attack?"

Tucker just grinned as he lift his visor to look at the others and shook his head. He just could not stop laughing as he thought about it. "No. They're not under attack. Unless you mean by the snake I stuffed down Simmons' armor, then yeah. It was great! I can't believe he never even seen me coming..." He cut himself off by spewing laughter again.

Wash stared blankly at him. "You put a snake in Simmons' armor?" He asked just as blankly.

"Yeah! It was great! First I got the drop on him by throwing a rock against the cliffs and then I jumped down on to his back and shoved it into the crease between his helmet and armor! He started screaming and running around in circles!" He laughed, only to be joined in with Church.

Caboose just shuddered at the thought. "I don't like snakes. They're kind of creepy and kind of slimey and feels weird when they crawl all over you. And they bite. I don't like clowns either. They're really scary. Like...like scary clowns! That have evil sharp teeth and a big nose that squeaks when you pinch it!" He prattled on.

But everyone ignored him.

Wash just groaned, shaking his head. He knew that Tucker's prank on Simmons wasn't going to turn out too well with the Reds. He knew that there would be retaliation for it. "Nice going, Tucker. Now you've gave the Reds a reason to come over here and start trouble." He sighed heavily.

"Yeah right, Wash! They're not going to be coming over here! They'll be too busy trying to get the snake out of Simmons'..." Tucker was saying.

"Hey! Blues! Ya stinkin', conniving Bluetards! Ya attacked my Private! Now yer gonna hav'ta pay for that!" came the booming voice of Sarge from on top of the hill just yards away.

"Um...or not." Tucker remarked uneasily before grimacing. "Does he even know how that even sounds? Talking about gross!"

"Yeah. I don't like Privates either. They look funny. And they're kind of icky. And it hurts when they get hit by someone. And they kind of look like a snake. A really weird snake. That spits when you have to go to the bathroom. I don't like snakes. But I like candy!" Caboose blurted out, while everyone just looked at him with weird looks. "Oh! I gotta go pee!" And he quickly ran for the bushes.

Groaning again, Wash shook his head before shooting Tucker a dark look, who tried to give him an innocent grin from under his visor. It just wasn't easy with it down. Again, shaking his head, the Ex-Freelancer reached over and roughly grabbed Tucker's arm, causing him to yelp. "Church, you stay here and watch for Caboose when he comes back. Tucker, you're with me." He stated.

"What? Why? Where are we going?" Tucker yelped as he dragged after Wash.

"We, you idiot, are going up there to sort this whole thing out. You started this, you get to fix it." Wash said dryly.

"What? No way, man! They'll kill me!" Tucker whined before yelping again as he was dragged up the hill towards the Reds. "Ow! Let go! That hurts and you're pulling my sword arm out of its socket."

Wash ignored him.

Sarge, Simmons and Grif were the ones who were standing at the top of the hill, well armed as if prepped for a battle. It couldn't be helped as the Blues approached them warily. Especially with Simmons carrying a rocket launcher. And that had Tucker wanted to run for it. But he couldn't with Wash gripping his arm so tightly.

"Hey, Sarge! I know what this is about and it's a complete stupid misunderstanding." Wash started.

"Save it, Blue-ass!" Sarge booked jabbing his shotgun towards them. "You Blues are going down today! We gotta great plan that will blow ya away! Off the planet! Out of existence! And all because ya had to go sneaking around on our side of the valley and stuffin' a snake down Simmons' armor! Why couldn't ya have stuffed a snake down Grif's? A poisonous snake! So it'd bite 'em and kill 'em?" He demanded.

Grif growled, his shoulders slumping as he glared at the back of Sarge's head.

Wash just grimaced within his helmet before rubbing the back of his neck as if looking for a scratch there. "Uh...we can try that some other time. But can we avoid a fight today? We really have to get our base cleaned up. Caboose made a mess out of it by attempting to cook breakfast and that didn't turn out so well. Besides," He yanked Tucker forward, shooting him a look. "Tucker wants to apologize to Simmons for his stupid prank."

"OW! What? No I don't! Do you know how long it even took me to even find that snake? Forever, man!" Tucker complained.

Again, Wash shot him a dark look before leaning closer to him. "Apologize, Tucker, or I'll hand you over to the Reds for Disciplinary actions and grant them permission to do whatever they want to you." He hissed at him.

"WHAT? You can't do that! Maaaan!" Tucker groaned, shaking his head. He slumped a little before looking at Simmons. "Sorry, man. There! Are you happy?"

Simmons gave him quite the dirty look for himself. "No. I'd rather just shoot you in the head with my rocket launcher and watch it blow into chunks." He said darkly.

"There!" Wash immediately jumped in before Tucker could make his snappish retort to Simmons' comment. He looked back at Sarge. "So, is that good, Sarge? Cause we really have a lot to do today. And I'm sure you can think up of some more plans to blow us sky high and all."

Sarge grunted as he thought about it before shrugged. "Yea. I think I can come up with better ideas to defeat you Bluetards once and for all." He then turned to the other two. "All right! Back to base! We need to come up with some better ideas of defeating the Blues once and for all!" He bellowed out.

"Outpost 17, Blue Base, this is Blue Command. Outpost 17, Blue Base, this is Blue Command. Do you copy?"

"Outpost 17, Red Base, this is Red Command. Do you read? Red Base, this is Red Command, come in, roger."

Both teams stiffened when they heard both of the incoming messages from both of their Command Centers. They couldn't help but glance at one another before turning away from each other. Sarge moved further away from the Blues so they couldn't overhear what Red Command had to say to him. "This is Sarge from Outpost 17. We're reading ya loud and clear, Red Command!"

"Tucker, answer that, will you?" Wash asked, looking at the other Blue.

"Why me? Why can't you answer the damn thing yourself?" Tucker asked, still quite sour about having to apologize to a Red for a well deserved to be rewarded prank.

Wash gave him a dark look. "Because I can't. Command thinks I'm dead, remember? If I answer it, they might recognize my voice and then we're going to have some problems coming our way." He growled the obvious at him.

Snorting, Tucker folded his arms and turned his back towards him. "Well, you should have thought of that before forcing me to apologize for the most awesomest prank ever! On a Red! To a Red! And you should have thought of that before you faked your death and joined us." He said quite smugly thinking he won that argument.

"Outpost 17, Blue Base, this is Blue Command. Is there anyone there? Come in, Blue Base!" Another transmission came through.

Growling at him, Wash shook his head. "Tucker, just answer it!" He demanded.

"Nope!" Tucker remarked, making the p pop loudly.

Glaring at his back for a moment, Wash finally turned around to face Simmons and Grif who were watching Sarge as he tried to ask Red Command about any shipments that he ordered and it sounded like he was annoying the hell out of the officer making the transmission. "Hey! Simmons, Grif," The former Freelancer said, getting the two's attention. "Want a Blue Prisoner to beat up on and interrogate and maybe get a little revenge for the snake prank?" He offered, shooting a look over his shoulder.

"Sure!" Both Reds immediately piped up with huge evil grins on their faces.

"I fucking hate you, Wash." Tucker growled at him before turning away from them again, even as the two Reds were snickering to each other. "Blue Command, this is Outpost 17 Blue base. We're reading you clear. What do you want?" He said, quite irritated.

"Finally! Blue Outpost 17, we thought we'd just give you a warning. We have a Special Agent coming in to Outpost 17 for instructions for you and the Reds. Repeat, we have a Special Agent coming in to Outpost 17 for you and the Reds. Prepare for retrieval." said Blue Command.

"Sarge, we can't send you a nuke just to blow up the Blue Base! And no on the multiple missile launcher! And we don't have any Soldier poison for you either! We just want to give you a heads up, Sarge. But we have a Special Agent coming your way with orders from Command and get this. It's for you and the Blues. So be ready to receive, got it? They should be there in ten to fifteen minutes." came the Red Command's reply rather dryly.

Hearing both of the transmissions, everyone froze before looking around at each other. Sarge had even spun around and looked directly at Wash, who was quite still with horror. They knew that wasn't good news whatsoever for him, the Blues or even the Reds; since they knew that he was alive when he was suppose to be dead.

"Oh, shit. I'm royally fucked." Wash groaned dropping his helmet into his hands.