A/N: Guess who's back! To anyone who is still following this story: I admire that greatly. Quick warning, there is no violence in this chapter, but bad language is present. You have been warned. When have I last updated this mediocre story? I forget… Anyways, there is no excuse for my lack of updating, so go ahead and let me have it. Ok, now that I have finished complaining read and, if you are feeling gracious, review. And no, the chapter title is not meant to offend, as I myself am a Foreigner, so just enjoy.
The Party Chapter 3:
'BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!'
John catapulted out of bed, landing on his face. With a weary groan, he scraped himself off the floor and stood up. What the hell was that? He turned back towards the bed, seeing the alarm clock. He sat there for a split second, confused as to how it got there.
This had happened over and over again. The alarm clock, the SAME DAMN ALARM CLOCK, which he had shattered the first day, than many times over the week. How the hell was it in his room again? Cameras showed no one but him ever entering his room.
He let out a loud growl. He had a massive hangover from a party with Klaus and a few of the other marines and the clock was really grating on his nerves. More than one of those hunters who just wouldn't sit still and took forever to kill.
John took the straddle stance and thrust his palm down as hard as he could. The clock survived. He tried to smash it with anything he could think of. Nothing worked. Fed up, John put on his armor and grabbed the clock.
John was on his way out of the room when he bumped into Johnson on the way. The dark-skinned man gave him a smile and said, "Morning Chief, how did you-" John just strode by, muttering something like, 'fucking clock'. Johnson stared at his Spartan companion as he passed, saying, "Well, good morning to you too!"
Confused, the Sergeant walked away, heading for the mess hall. He remembered the memo from Lord Hood. He always knew Klaus was a good cook, but now he was a bit worried that trying to feed the whole base, even with help, was going to ruin his renowned quality.
Sighing, he pushed on, hoping that the food was going to be as good as he hoped…
xxxxx
"Sir, we have an unauthorized airlock depressurization in progress on sublevel thirteen!" The marine at the console waved over the officer in the room, who rushed over and looked at the screen as well. "Can you pull up the image Corporal?" The marine pressed a few buttons and a slightly fuzzy image appeared.
"Wait, what's that sir?" "Zoom in Corporal," the officer said. When the image was magnified, they were both confused by what they saw. "Excuse me sir, I think I might be seeing things. Is that… is that an alarm clock?"
xxxxxx
Vyachislav moved up further in the line. God, this was going to be humiliating. Getting cooked for by the guy who had embarrassed him in front of anyone who had been there on Monday. It was Friday now but he was sure Klaus would still get at him.
Dread pitted in his stomach, he walked up with his tray. Unfortunately, Klaus was serving as well as cooking, and happened to look up. The Russian man swallowed, expecting some vile words.
To his surprise, none came. Klaus just handed him his food and ushered him along: it was early and many more marines were arriving. Confused as hell, he wandered over to his friends. His girlfriend was absent, he noticed. Not that he really cared. After his ordeal, they didn't click so well anymore.
Sitting down, he absently munched on his food. His eyes snapped open. This was MUCH better than the usual slop served at the mess hall. He would never say as much, but he was glad Klaus was behind in the kitchen.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he was startled when the German he was thinking about patted his shoulder. He gaped for a moment, than saying a simple, "Hello Klaus, how can I help you?"
Smiling, Klaus motioned for one of Vyachislav's friends to scoot over before sitting down. "Listen my friend, I just came to talk to you for a moment." He pushed his food aside before asking, "How have you been recently? Okay I hope?" Vyachislav just nodded.
"Listen, I know we have had some bad experiences between each other, but I am no longer angry. I know you broke up with Jane. I also know you have moped about this week. You mustn't let that incident bother you anymore."
The Russian man nodded again. "Okay, I suppose if you can forgive me, I can forgive you, but only on one condition." His counterpart raised a brow. "Oh? What is that?" Vyachislav said, " I wish to cook some of my native breakfast cuisines alongside yours. Is that possible?" Klaus beamed. "Of course my friend, let's get cooking!"
xxxxx
John smiled as he saw the exchanges between the two men. From what he remembered, Russians and Germans had always disliked, or at least distrusted each other from World War II and on to the current day. It gladdened him to see that this might no longer affect the dynamics between the (in his opinion) best cooks on the station (yes, Vyachislav cooked, he had tasted it).
Sergeant Johnson was sitting next to him, nursing some scrambled eggs. "Hey Chief, check out who's coming over." John looked over and saw his old enemy, Thel Vadamee, otherwise known as the Arbiter, who was now a great friend, walking aimless around the room with his tray of yummy food (yes, he can eat some human food).
Flagging him down, John moved over a chair and patted his back. "He-hey, you old split chinned son-of-a-bitch, where've you been, eh?" Thel sighed, but did not react to the Spartan's good-natured teasing. "Rtas 'Vadum gave us some time away from the Sanghelli fleet. I'm just visiting."
John frowned. "Hey man, if you got a problem, you know me and Johnson got your back, right Sarge?" Johnson nodded his head in affirmation. "Now come on man, spill it." The Arbiter just sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately, he noticed.
"Well, you see, there is a female I am interested in back on Sanghelios. I wish to ask her to a, as you humans say, date. However, I am conflicted as to whether I should attempt this or not."
John knew as soon as when Thel mentioned female Sanghelli, he was out for the count. He had an idea what to do when it came to human women, but he had never even seen a female Elite before.
Johnson, however, jumped at the opportunity. "Shit man, that's it? I can help ya with that, no problemo!" Groaning, John finished his food and left, saying goodbye to them, Klaus and Vyachislav. He did NOT need to hear Johnson's assumptions on how to date a woman from a race of aliens he had spent most of his time killing until a few months ago. Poor Thel, he was so absorbed, believing it would work. Hell, maybe it would.
'Now', he thought, 'Time to take a quick nap'. Navigating his way to his room, he spotted Cortana on the podium next to the door. "Hey Cortana, how are you doing?" She gave him a worried look. "Good Chief, hey listen-" John held up a hand. "Please Cortana, I need sleep. Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait until this afternoon." "Of course John, but-" "Cortana, please." He opened the door.
'BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!'
John just stared at Cortana, who had an apologetic look on her face.
'BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!'
"…MOTHERFUCKER!"
A/N: To anyone confused, this is a bit after Halo 2 in my mind, so that is how the Arbiter is able to interact peaceably with the humans.