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Disclaimer: I own nothing. Have fun. I do.

Inspiration and influence comes from the cartoon and comics, and I'm sure, some characterization has come in earlier fan fic. If anything seems a blatant rip, I apologize, and in turn, am also thankful for the stories that have come before.

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….A World Without Heroes, Chapter 2….

Time is a precious asset, constant, yet fickle. That fickleness is only heightened by the daily regimen of an elite counter-terrorism military force. Yet while the demands were stressful, each member of the G.I. Joe team willingly sacrificed the precious commodity in the pursuit of a greater good. They'd all made sacrifices to make it to the top. And they'd all lost people along the way, through battles waged in the field or battles waged in the soul.

No matter what endeavor he undertook, Flint was always of one mindset. Play hard, work harder. It was a mindset that lent itself well to his chosen career in the military; play hard, fight harder. He prided himself on his abilities as a soldier, rapidly making the ascent to the upper echelons of the military. He was among the best of the best, and in combining a mind that made him their best tactician with a ferocity that made him a valuable soldier, he'd become one of their most respected leaders.

And yet….it was the battle of the soul that took Flint by surprise. In the battlefield, he was able to bend time to his will, knowing that patience could determine the outcome of the fight, or that pressing an advantage even in a weakened state could secure a needed victory. Away from the battlefield, however, he was surprised to find that he often wondered if time simply wouldn't just….slip away.

He was at a crossroads. All of them were. Officials in the Pentagon were currently debating whether G. I. Joe was still a necessity, and their futures were all in some sort of limbo, frozen in time. The tactician in him knew that all points converged here, swiveling on some seemingly random decision of militaristic planning that didn't take into account the lives dedicated to the cause. But if there was one thing he'd learned, it was that time waits for no one. Either grab the bull by the horns with what you've got, or let it slide on by. And in his line of work, when away from the actual field of battle, letting time slide by wasn't an option.

In these crossroads, it was the ease in which he found himself wanting to make his relationship with Lady Jaye work that both unnerved Flint, and simultaneously made him think outside the boundaries of military life. He didn't know when it happened, he only knew that it did. Time was precious, and they'd always taken advantage of whatever time they had together. But as time doted along, granting the two of them rendezvous after rendezvous after all they've been through as soldiers and now tickling the "what-ifs" in his mind, he knew he wanted her to be a part of his future, no matter what it held. He simply couldn't imagine life without this woman by his side. This was the battle of his soul, knowing that there was something else well worth the fight, someone else worth fighting for. Flint refused to give the Pentagon the power to make the decision for him, but he just wasn't entirely sure what to do about it.

Many in G. I. Joe knew about the situation. A decision was imminent, General Hawk had said in the latest briefing, but no one new exactly how the brass would lean. So the unit carried on with routine missions, for no one quite knew what was in store. The part of Flint that dabbled in denial was thankful for that, yet as he strolled through the nearly empty hallways of the PIT, he couldn't help but wonder if Lady Jaye's thoughts traveled the same line as his. For as arrogant as he could be, this was one realm where he held much insecurity, though he'd be loathe to admit it.

And so it was that he found himself in front of the quarters Lady Jaye shared with Scarlett at such a late hour. It wasn't often he and Jaye were shipped out on different missions on the same day, but neither ever knew when time would simply run out. Even though they were both headed for minor missions, he knew he didn't want to leave without saying goodbye. Habit, maybe, but Flint knew it was more than that.

He smiled slightly, remembering her tirade when she found out her orders. It was nothing more than a routine survival-training mission, but she'd be stuck with Beachhead and Shipwreck in the middle of the desert.

"Look on the bright side, Al," Flint had told her. "At least Shipwreck's not bringing Polly."

Rightfully, she had smacked him in the head with her pillow after that comment.

Bringing himself back to the present, Flint rapped slightly on the door to the living quarters, only to find no answer. He wasn't surprised. Pulling out the key Lady Jaye had recently given him, he unlocked the door and quietly slipped inside the darkened room and made his way to her bedroom.

He nearly tripped over the packed gear she had set just inside her bedroom door. Finally, he reached the bed and quietly sat beside the sleeping figure. He sat watching her for a few minutes and brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes, before deciding he'd best be on his way. Leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead, he froze as she stirred.

"Dash?" she asked sleepily.

"It's me, sweetheart," he answered softly, straightening slightly.

"Good," she murmured, turning over to her side. "Take off your shoes before getting in."

He smiled at her demand, wondering if she was fully aware of herself or caught somewhere between the dreamworld and lucidity. With a shrug, he decided he really didn't care. Taking off his shoes and emptying his pockets, he climbed in under the covers beside her, and wrapped his arms around her.

Immediately, she snuggled into his embrace. "That's better," she mumbled before drifting off again.

This, he thought to himself with a soft smile, is what he wanted. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Everything else, he thought, be damned.