A/N: i couldn't resist. this is where i think Shane Wolfe would shop.


Chapter 2: Surplus

Joyce finished off her burger and slurped at her soda as Shane drove and she shook her soda to make sure it was all gone before setting it in the bag on the floor. She looked out the window as buildings passed and couldn't help but curse her mother silently for leaving her with this guy she didn't know, and didn't care to know. Whatever attitude her mother said she had, it wasn't going to go away by leaving her with this guy, even if he was kind of hot.

"God, do I actually think that?!" she asked herself. She glanced over at him and couldn't deny that she did. She supposed it was the shoulders and arms…his whole build actually. She'd never really liked muscle bound guys, but he had just the right amount of muscle to make him attractive to her.

"Stop it, Joe," she told herself and shook her head a bit. "You're supposed to hate him."

"Here it is," Shane suddenly said and she jumped as she looked at him with wide eyes. He was turning the mini van and she looked out the window. What she saw made her eyes widen in horror.

"No," she said, shaking her head and pushing into her seat to get away from the window. "No! No! I don't shop at surplus stores!" She whirled around to stare at him, but he didn't look at her. "I thought we were going to the mall! You can't expect me to buy anything here, do you?!"

"Of course not," Shane replied parking the van and Joyce let out a sigh of relief. "You won't be buying anything. I'm going to buy your clothes for you."

Joyce shot a look of wide eyed disbelief as he got out and walked around the front of the van. She growled at him as he opened her door and she hissed when he moved to grab the bag of garage from her lunch. Shane jerked back and frowned at her in complete confusion.

"What are you, a cat?" he wondered and grabbed the bag as Joyce unbuckled her belt.

"Yes!" she shot back, shoving him back as she got out of the van. "You best be careful, my claws are sharp! So are my teeth!"

"Guess we gotta get those claws trimmed and those teeth filed," he couldn't help but smirk. Joyce glared at him and slammed her door shut then crossed her arms over her chest in a huff.

"I'm out of the van, but I am not going into that surplus store," she reported and Shane rolled his eyes. He grabbed her wrist with his free hand and started toward the store and she struggled against him.

"Hey! I told you I'm not going in there! I wouldn't be caught dead in there!"

"Knock it off," Shane ordered, firmly as he still dragged her through the parking lot and she eventually did but she stopped when they reached the door. Shane looked at her as she crossed her arms in a huff when he let go of her arm.

"I don't wanna go in there," she repeated. "It was the one thing I ever requested from my mother, and she never took me to these places. I don't even wanna see what's in there."

"Listen, you're mother isn't taking you in here, I am. Just suck it up and get your butt in there!" Shane grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the door behind him. He let go of her arm and she stopped dead at the entrance, staring wide eyes at what was inside.

Replicas of planes hung from the ceiling, dummies had camos on and military uniforms. She saw racks of hats and belts and things she'd seen her mom use, but didn't know what they were. She stepped further in, looking around as Shane headed for the counter to talk to the clerk behind it. Joyce turned to the glass counter and slowly stepped up next to him to see what was inside. Knives and military knick-knacks she'd also seen her mother use.

"Glad I brought you here?" he joked, seeing her interest and awe in everything around her. She ignored him and looked up at the clerk, pointing at a huge hunting knife beneath the glass.

"Does this come in pink?" she asked cutely and the clerk glanced at Shane for permission to answer.

"Very funny," Shane replied, unamused and shook his head to the clerk as he took her wrist in his huge hand and dragged her through the store as she looked around with wide eyes. She found herself regretting demanding never to come into one of these stores, but she was not about to wear anything from this place, no matter how interesting it looked.

Shane stopped at a wall with shelves of neatly folded white shirts and Joyce was snapped from her thoughts and looked at him. There were sizes written in black marker under the shirts and Shane kept looking at her then looking back at the shelves. Not too far away, she noticed, were shelves of gray shirts and more shelves with black shirts.

"Here we go," Shane mumbled to himself and Joyce turned her attention to him again. He pulled a handful of white shirts from a shelf that read "Large" underneath the stack and plopped them in her hands.

"No!" she snapped when he walked toward the shelves of gray shirts. "I'm not dressing like you! I don't wanna look like a GI Jane!"

"You won't," he replied, pulling a few gray shirts from the shelf. "GIs aren't Navy."

Joyce blinked as he placed the gray shirts in her hands and growled angrily at him as he backed up to see the bottom shelves. She suddenly noticed there were rows of beige cargo pants below the shirts and rolled her eyes with a sigh as she turned to face him. He only scanned through the sizes on the shelves.

"Look, if you want me to dress differently, fine," she said. "But don't make me go around in this stuff! I look like an idiot!"

"You won't, once you're wearing the right size of clothes," Shane replied, kneeling down to pull several pairs of pants from the shelf marked "Large" and Joyce stuck her tongue out at him. He stood and placed the pants in her hands on top of the shirts she was still holding. He headed off in another direction and Joyce sighed as she followed him.

"You didn't this to the Plummer kids, did you?" she wondered, sarcastically.

"You're a special case," he replied, stopping at a rack with beige military belts, grabbed a couple of smaller sized ones then headed in another direction and stopped again in a section in the store with a wall lined with black leather, tall, military boots of all sizes. "You're enrolled in Shane Wolfe's Boot Camp. You need all the necessaries to survive it." He turned to face her as she gave him an unamused look and asked, "What's your shoe size?"

"What? You can't tell by looking at me?" she asked, mockingly.

Shane sighed as he knelt down and she had no time to react when he gripped her ankle and lifted her foot to see the size on her high heeled shoe. She let out a startled cry and gripped a stand filled with shoes to keep herself from falling back. Shane stood again, letting go of her foot and turned back to the wall of boots.

"Ok, eight and a half," he thought aloud and Joyce sighed again, this time in boredom. Shane found a pair of boots her size and pulled them from the wall to place them on one of the benches in the section. Joyce glanced at boots then looked back at Shane.

"Try 'em on," he ordered, grabbing a set of black socks that looked her size from a small rack next to a shelf of boots and tossing them next to the shoes. "See how they fit."

"I don't wear anything that doesn't have a heel," Joyce retorted. "I especially don't wear combat boots."

"Good, you know what they are," Shane shot back and took the clothes from her hands with one hand and grabbed her arm to sit her down on the bench next to the shoes. "Try them on, now."

Joyce exhaled sharply and yanked her arm out of his grip to bend over and pull her shoes off. Shane stood patiently as she pulled off both her shoes and pulled a pair of socks from the pack, pulled on the socks then struggled to pull on the combats. She yanked at them to pull them on, smacking herself a few times when her fingers slipped then she fumbled with the laces, burning her fingers trying to pull them tight enough.

"Looks you still have a lot to learn if you can't tie shoes," Shane teased and she glared up at him.

"I told you, I don't wear these…ever!" she snapped and Shane rolled his eyes. He placed the clothes on the bench as she turned back to trying to lace her boot tight enough and he knelt down in front of her. She jumped with a start when he smacked her hands away and began tying her shoes on for her.

"This is the only time I'm doing this for you," he reported and Joyce only nodded. After she pulled on the other boot and he laced it for her he stood and ordered, "At attention."

"Why don't you just say 'Stand up'?" she retorted, standing. Shane backed up and looked at her feet.

"They fit ok?" he asked and she shrugged then he ordered, "About face."

Joyce let out a long sigh and turned.

"March."

She gave him a sneer of disbelief and he only repeated the order. She growled low in her throat and walked toward the far wall.

"That march needs some work," he commented and Joyce rolled her eyes as she turned and headed back to him.

"They fit fine," she snapped and he nodded.

"Alright, grab your shoes and clothes so we can pay for them and go," he ordered and headed back to the front of the store.

"Fine, but can we at least stop at a mall so I can get regular people clothes?" she hoped, grabbing her boots and clothes and running after him.

"We got everything you'll need for the next week or so," Shane replied, leading the way to the counter. "You'll have to earn a shopping spree."

Joyce sneered and rolled her eyes then caught a glimpse of an old cockpit of a plane sitting against a wall. She stopped dead as she stared at it then turned on her heel and slowly walked toward it. She couldn't understand why she found it so intriguing, but she didn't care at the moment. She stopped at the edge and looked around to see if anyone was watching then sat herself in the pilot's seat and stared out the stained, dusty window, her clothes in her lap.

She suddenly theorized that the reason she was so interested was because the military was in her blood. Both her parents were military, not to mention her grandfather on her dad's side, and her mom's grandfather. Her mom's dad almost got into it, but decided to go to law school. It seemed almost destined that she would get into it too, but her mother had told her a long time ago, if she didn't want to, she didn't have to. Joyce didn't want to, but she couldn't deny the intrigue of the whole thing. Her smile was brilliant as she sat in that cockpit.

"If I wanted to go into the military," she thought. "It would be the Air Force. Water kinda scares me."

"Enjoying yourself?"

Joyce scrambled to her feet, dropping the things in her lap in the process and she cursed under her breath as she knelt down to pick them up. Shane knelt down in front of her to help and she glanced at him angrily.

"Do you have to be so sneaky?" she snapped, pulling a bundle of shirts into her arms.

"It's the training," he shrugged, folding a pair of pants before handing them to her and taking the shirts to fold them one at a time. He smirked and leaned toward her to murmur, "I saw that?"

Joyce looked at him as he leaned out and frowned in confusion as she asked, "Saw what?"

"You smiled," he said, taking another shirt to fold it perfectly. Joyce rolled her eyes and shifted her weight completely onto one of her feet.

"No I didn't," she lied with a sneer as he took another shirt.

"Alright, you didn't," he replied and didn't say anything more as he folded the last shirt and handed it to her, but he knew what he saw. He was sure he would break her of her undesirable ways yet.

They both headed back to the counter to pay for her new wardrobe and she looked back at the knife she'd seen earlier. It intrigued her, as the old cockpit had. She rolled her eyes at herself.

"Not even an hour with this guy and I'm going where I didn't wanna go: GI Jane," she complained silently. She watched as Shane paid for the clothes and shoes then suddenly saw something she definitely wanted.

"Shane, I want that," she said, simply. No sarcasm, no anger and it wasn't really a demand. This tone was what made Shane snap his gaze to her in surprise.

"What?" he asked and Joyce looked up at him.

"I want that patch right there…" She pointed to something in the glass counter on the other side of Shane and he looked in that direction along with the clerk. It was a small pocket knife, tiny, in fact and Shane couldn't understand why she wanted it in the first place.

He turned back to her and asked, "Should we see if they have it in pink?"

"I'm not joking, Shane," she said in that simple tone again and Shane's playful smirk dropped as he stared at her. He nodded and turned to the clerk to request the knife's price. Not too expensive, he was glad to find out and he said he'd take it. The clerk pulled it out and didn't even question him about it. He knew Shane was ex-military and that he wouldn't let the girl hurt herself with it.

After he paid for it he handed her the small knife and she snatched it from him to look at it intently. She never took her eyes from it as they walked out of the store and into the parking lot toward the van. Shane kept glancing at her and she suddenly gave a small smile and tucked it into the pocket of the pants she was wearing.

Shane couldn't help but ask, "Why the knife?"

Joyce snapped her gaze up to him as they reached the van and asked, "What?"

"Why did you want that knife so badly?" he asked again, shutting the alarm to the van off and Joyce rolled her eyes.

"You wouldn't understand," she replied, getting into the car and fastening her belt.

Shane walked over to the driver's side and got in then said, "I might."

"No, you wouldn't," she argued. He didn't start the car and she frowned in wonder at him a moment.

"Try me," he insisted and she rolled her eyes again with a sigh. She leaned an arm on the door and rested her chin on the backs of her fingers as Shane just watched her, examining her reactions.

"It's nothing I like to talk about," she replied. "Just something about my dad, if you have to know. But like I said, I don't like to talk about it."

"Alright," Shane nodded and started the van. "You should know, if you need to talk about it---"

"I don't," Joyce cut in, irritably. "And if I did, I wouldn't talk about it with you."

"Fine," Shane shrugged and they said nothing as he pulled out of the parking lot and into the streets to drive back to the Plummer house. He knew she'd eventually open up. It was inevitable, really, but he had to be sure of something and asked, "You're not gonna hurt yourself with that, are you?"

"Do I look suicidal to you?" she asked in a flabbergasted tone.

"Just making sure," he replied. "Don't take it personal."

"Oh," she chirped. "No, I'm not gonna hurt myself."

"Good," he nodded and Joyce glanced at him a few times before she knew she had to say it.

"Thanks for buying it for me," she mumbled. "I'll pay you back when I get my wallet from the house."

"Don't bother," he replied and she looked up at him with wide eyes. "That's the last gift you're getting for the rest of the time you're here, so enjoy it."

"Sir, yes Sir," she muttered sarcastically.

"That's better," he smirked and she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Joyce leaned on her hand again and couldn't help smiling as she stared out the window. That store hadn't been as bad as she thought it would, and she hoped that after all this stupid discipline stuff that she could go there to at least look around a little longer. But she would never admit it to Shane or her mother. That would just make everything worse.

"Best keep that to yourself, Joe," she told herself. "And keep all your attractions to Shane to yourself, definitely."


A/N: well, how was it? reviews?