I know, I know, I am not the speediest uploader. I'm slow as a sloth, I'm sorry. Not sure that's going to change though, I'm too much of a procrastinator. I'll try my best though, I promise!

Welcome to chapter two!

Veiled Depths

Mischa felt the breath leave her violently as her chest took the brunt of an impact, leaving her winded for several seconds before she could inhale any air, even with the training armour strapped firmly into place around her. Her face was red and her hair was scatty about her head, falling out of her previously perfect high-tail plait. Her lungs vibrated a little, causing a stridor in her breathing to be made apparent. Chief scoffed, "I told you that without the element of surprise, all that bravado meant nothing." He was surprised she had lasted this long against him. It wasn't so much that she was actually fighting him very well, but she could take a heck of a beating and was stubborn enough to keep getting up.

Which she did again.

Exhausted, she raised her fists even though she could barely stand. She felt like she had some cracked ribs, but she'd be damned if she'd tell him that. She was learning that her opinion on Chief being an asshole was not going to change. He was an asshole. A large and muscly one that had a big ego. But then, she had a big ego too. Hence her continued approach towards an armoured man who had flipped and incapacitated her up to twenty times in the past hour. The padded training room mats were starting to get scuffed by the rigor of the prolonged fight.

Damnit, if she didn't take him down once then she was going to go unconscious trying. At least there weren't any spectators like their previous training sessions had warranted. Chief didn't like to be seen being too harsh with a lady when people were watching. But now they were alone, well, she was glad for some of the things her father had taught her, and she was glad for having the ability to keep getting up onto her feet.

Other than that, she wanted to vomit, sob, and curl up in pain under her duvet.

"You're a piece of shit, Chief," she spat some excess fluid out of her mouth, not wanting to know if it was bloody or not, "anyway, why should I have to be able to take you down? I can take soldiers down who aren't SPARTANS. I don't have super soldier abilities…"

He interrupted her, "You want to see how long you last against an elite? A brute? Some of them are ten times worse than me if they get close to you. If you don't take them out with a gun, girly, you're screwed."

"Well, then teach me more about guns so I can shoot them before they get this close!" she growled at him, trying to scramble up to remove his helmet, thinking of cheap shots to maybe poke his eyes out.

"Commander said you were gun-trained," he sounded smug, as though she'd admitted that she was lacking.

"I am!" she had to try not to shout at him, not only that but angry talking now hurt her chest and throat. He flung her over with his shoulders and neck once more, where she'd been trying to pull at his helmet. She hit the ground with an "Oomph!"

"Stay down, Doctor Reef," the way he said her name in such a derogatory manner was infuriating.

She got up onto her knees and he swiped them from under her again, but she didn't stop. "Never!" she started pushing up again, wobbling as she did, showing him that he could beat her into submission physically but he would not break her will. He could see why she was in intelligence. She was probably one of those people who couldn't be mind-controlled or tortured into revealing council secrets.

She was horrified and shocked when he employed a new tactic, instead of staying standing, he surged forward on top of her to push her flat against the ground this time.

Oh no, she was not having that! Her legs came up to kick him directly up under the chin from below as he approached, not worried about hurting him. His helmet actually dislodged, and her thighs fixed into place around his neck, to his slight surprise. It was always her surprising manoeuvres that caught him out. She twisted aggressively, panting and forcing her muscles as tight as they would go whilst digging her fingers under the damned clips of the metal visor.

His helmet released with a shick.

An extremely pale but chiselled face appeared from under it, with strong features, a jutting chin and dark, slightly grey-specked hair dripping down toward her. A fairly large, roman nose and a pair of thick, surprised eyebrows surrounded astounding bright blue eyes, like headlights shining out from the rest of the ruggedly handsome features. There was a slight shadow of stubble about his lower face, and his mouth was a little wonky, giving a roguish look to his entire pastiness.

Mischa's legs loosened so fast from him that they both dropped to the floor in a strange tangle of pretzelled limbs, at least on her behalf.

There was a beat of winded silence.

She opened her mouth to apologise, suddenly wanting to take her decision back to unmask him. It seemed too personal, like unmasking a superhero. All that came out vocally was a raspy wheeze and she suddenly realised he was extremely heavy.

He propped himself on his forearms, glaring into her face, and slowly lifted his metal body away so she could untangle her legs and limbs from her boa constrictor impression around him.

Neither of them seemed to be able to form any words until she slumped flat against the training mat and he separated completely from her.

"S… sorry," she licked her lips nervously, about to continue, but a lump formed in her airway when his eyes moved away from hers for the first time, down to her lips moving. Her tongue stilled as she saw him observe the pink appendage disappear back into her mouth speedily, without the shield of his visor. His blue eyes darkened and smouldered, his lip curled suggestively.

Mischa's gut flipped nauseatingly and she suddenly started to ponder down a whole new track as to why he'd been such an asshole to her. If he'd been looking at her like that the whole time from under the helmet… it gave a whole different meaning to a lot of their interactions.

She clamped her legs together and ignored the embarrassing warmth flooding the entire front of her body, including her face, which felt like a laser lamp. "Chief…?" she uttered hesitantly.

Chief sighed heavily, lifting himself with ease from her with his arms and sitting next to her on his butt, his elbows leant on his raised knees, feet flat on the ground.

"Call me John," he grumbled, "might as well now."

She felt terrible. How many people had ever even seen Master Chief's face? She'd known him for all of two weeks and wrestled his guards off him while he was compromised.

"Sorry John," she whispered.

He shook his head and stood, pushing his cropped hair out of his face with a gloved hand and extending one to her. "You want to make it up to me?" He waited until she took his hand and looked at him questioningly to continue, "Come to dinner with me. Nothing fancy, just a meal in my quarters."

Mischa's eyes bugged out of their sockets and her hand went slack in surprise within his grip, but he pulled her up with enough strength for five people anyway. She let out a violent groan when she reached an upright position. John grimaced. "Jeez, I didn't expect that response. I really did a number on you, didn't I?" he smirked devilishly and Mischa gave him a somewhat loathing and sceptical expression. She wasn't quite sure if she was hallucinating due to dehydration and too many knocks to the head.

"So?" Chief tilted his head above her, starting to look a bit embarrassed, scratching the back of his neck, "Will you? Have dinner with me...? I would cook but I'm not so good in the kitchen so I'd probably order in… we can watch something or… talk about the mission or… whatever you want really…"

"Are you asking me on a date?" Mischa stopped him talking, moving her arm to hold her abused ribs. John made an awkward face and squatted a little, blowing out his cheeks.

"Ah… yes," he nodded, looking away and then backtracking quickly, "although I guess I've been kind of a shit to you since we met so… I understand if you're not into it…"

"I did tell him to stop being such a bully!" Cortana piped up from the internals of Chief's suit and he shut his eyes, as though her talking was the final step to cap his mortification.

Mischa watched his expressions, captivated and amused, letting him stew, almost until she could see he was about to leave, and then she said, "Okay."

Chief's blue eyes blinked open and a dopey grin that he tried to hide twitched mentally across his lower face. "O… okay? Okay! Okay then! Hah!" He clapped his hands together and then looked about the room, "Uh, we should get you to medical…"

"Yeah, I'm not sure if some of my ribs aren't broken…"
"Are you serious? Why didn't you say anything?" he went even paler, if that was possible.

"I've had worse. I used to train with the Roganov brothers," she scoffed, and he must have heard of them because he whistled lowly, "one of them choked me out so aggressively once that I was in the hospital with a crushed trachea for weeks."

"Hell! What?"

"It's why I always get back up. It's not like anyone could do much worse to me than the Roganovs," she shrugged. She didn't miss how Chief's face darkened as though he was about to disagree, but then he caught her eye and shook his head.

"Well, I do not want to be compared to the Roganovs so, I am so sorry I didn't recognise that you were actually injured. And… I guess, I owe you, or something," he finished lamely.

"Or something?" Mischa laughed a little but decided to stop quickly when it was sharp and painful. "You can go get me some mango sorbet after you've dropped me in the med bay?" she eyed him sideways and he eyed her back, grins breaking out on their faces.

"Already done, Miss Python!"

"Python?"

"Flexible people have always disturbed me in training. Unnatural…" he shuddered, letting her lean against his side as they shuffled down the corridor.

"It normally helps me get away from people when they attack, but you seemed more intent on aggression than evading," Mischa admitted.

"Hey, if evading is what you're good at, you do that. Don't try and match me just because we're butting heads. It would have frustrated me to no end if I hadn't been able to fight you due to good evasion!"

"Psh, jeez, now you tell me. Well, I'll just stick to what I know next time. Maybe I'd end up with fewer bone marrow clots breaking loose…"

"Seriously, I am so sorry Reef…"

"Stop, really. And it's Mischa, please! Are we going to get on with each other a bit more now?"

Chief heard someone coming down the deserted corridor and quickly shoved his jarringly handsome face back into his helmet so nobody else could see him, as some young cadets swung around the corner. He turned his visor towards her and she could picture him grinning underneath, ever the narcissist. Had to keep up his reputation. His lack of appearance. His frightening authoritarian anonymity.

"Sure! No more arguments! Easy!"

Mischa already knew she had completely lost his focus, he was too busy straightening up to look intimidating to walk past other people. She snorted.

She reckoned it would be an interesting relationship with him, wherever it might lead, friends or otherwise. It would maybe make life on the spaceship a little less boring at least.