Another chapter! This is the last one that I've got written up...I've lost my head start! Chapter Four is about halfway done - the good thing is I know what's happening in the next one. After that...who knows?
Gonna put a disclaimer in, since I think I forgot it at the start - G.I Joe does not belong to me. I could never come up with something so awesome :D
Thanks for all the reviews, and to the people who put up with my emails and PMs, heh heh.
"Ripper."
"Real name, Harry Nod. From Tassie -" Mel glanced up. "That's Tasmania, sorry -"
"I kinda figured that."
"- prefers blades, specifically a bayonet attached to a rifle. Possible military background. Has some basic accountin' skills - an' some safecrackin' skills, just in case the numbers get too complicated."
The stunning blonde woman standing behind Mel nodded as she folded another lock of bleach-covered hair into a square of foil. "And Torch?"
"Tom Winken. New South Wales. Pretty much illiterate, yet some'ow manages ta run Uncle Winken's Hard Grape Soda company at a profit. Former member of the Melbourne Maulers an' Merchant Navy. Favoured weapon's an oxyacetylene torch or a flamethrower."
"Good. More stripes?"
Mel studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her boring brown hair was gone; the gorgeous blonde - Covergirl, a former model turned tank jockey - had dyed it a deep blue-black. Now, she and the brunette woman beside her, Lady Jaye, were bleaching sections back to the natural brown, so they could put more bleach on them to turn them peroxide-blonde. After that, they'd use the two bottles of temporary colour sitting on the bathroom counter - a hideously bright green and a not-too-bad purple - to colour the streaks. "Yeeeaaah, more stripes," she agreed. "Why not?"
"I like your thinking, Mel." Grinning, Covergirl began to separate another lock of hair with the comb handle.
Mel sat back in her seat and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, only to get a whiff of the bleach and sneeze.
"Gesundheit," Lady Jaye said, finishing another foil. "Hmm…another one here, you think?"
"Yep," Covergirl said. "And one there, too…"
Mel blocked out the two women's voices - not because they were annoying; she liked Lady Jaye and Covergirl - but because she needed to start sorting out her character. Up until now, it had just been the studying, reading file after file again and again, asking questions of Duke, Scarlett, or whoever was 'guarding' her.
Now, though, she had to figure herself out. Tomorrow was the day; tomorrow, she was going in. It would be somewhat of a relief - for the last two days, Mel had been stuck in the apartment. It wasn't all bad - it was comfortable, she had people to talk to and ask questions of if she needed to clear something up, she could take a break when she needed to. But she was getting antsy. She'd read all the files, over and over, she'd sorted out her cover story…apart from her appearance, she was almost ready to go.
Although…she kind of wished she could spend more time with Duke.
He hadn't been there when she'd woken up the morning after they had dinner. Mel had walked out of her bedroom, bleary-eyed, still jetlagged and wearing the white t-shirt and one of the good pairs of jeans she'd found in the closet. She'd ambled out into the kitchen barefoot, scratching her head and no doubt looking like a complete bogan.
There'd been a blonde man she didn't know sitting at the table. He'd introduced himself first as Kenneth Rich, then told her his codename was Psyche Out - he was a psychologist in G.I Joe.
After grimacing at her breakfast of leftover noodles - it looked like he was holding back a lecture - he'd sat down with her and gone over all the Dreadnok's files and her own notes, as well as some profiles that he'd made up of both Dreadnoks and Cobra troops during his time with the Joes. The psychologist had approved of her method of learning - not that she'd been worried about him approving anything. Though she had thought about asking him to tell Duke.
They'd just finished up with the three main Joes - Buzzer, Ripper and Torch, who somehow managed to make it out of every scrape they got into - when Scarlett emerged from her own room, tousle-haired and pretty even in her pyjamas, and sat down to help. For her and the other Joes, babysitting Mel was an easy job, practically a vacation.
At least, it would be until they had to move out.
That night, Scarlett had flicked on the TV, and the first thing Mel had seen was an extremely unflattering still shot of her own face, captured from the surveillance camera at LAX. She sat down next to the giggling redhead, swearing profusely at the news anchor who was making it sound like she'd gone on a bloody murderous rampage rather than just shoving a few people out of the way.
Still…that had been the plan. She was supposed to draw attention to herself.
Mel hadn't seen Duke at all that day, and she wasn't ashamed to admit she'd been a little disappointed. He'd gone out early, and she'd heard the five knocks on the door before it opened just as she was getting into bed.
He'd been there the next day - yesterday. He was sitting on the couch watching TV when she walked out of her room; when she'd walked past he gave her a quick smile. There was no mention of the conversation they'd had the other night…and Mel wasn't going to bring it up if he didn't.
She and Duke spent most of the morning working through her cover story - even though most of it was already worked out. All she needed were the fine points, the little details that made all the difference. Duke had them, of course, all neatly printed out in yet another manila folder - charges against her, details of the assaults, stuff like that. If she'd had to, she could've made it up on the spot - she'd always been a good bullshit artist - but Hawk and Duke left nothing to chance.
Sitting beside Duke at the table, Mel could smell his deodorant, or aftershave, or whatever he wore; he smelled good. And he'd been dressed casually again, in the jeans and the hoodie. She may have checked his arse out on more than one occasion.
Still, Mel knew she couldn't let her attraction to him get in her way. She was about to go deep - there was no telling how long it would be for, or what she might have to do…or what might happen to her.
But hell, he was just so damn hot.
Not that Mel was superficial. Well, not unless superficial was called for, but that was different. Duke seemed to be an all-round good guy.
"And…done," Covergirl said, folding up another square of foil with a flourish. "Now we just have to wait another thirty minutes."
Mel groaned. "An' then wash it all out, then do it all again, then do it again with the green an' purple." She sighed, then wrinkled her lightly freckled nose. "Can we get outta this bathroom? I think I'm gettin' a bit high."
Covergirl grinned at her, and she and Jaye stood aside so Mel could move. She headed out into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
The two Joe women followed her out. "Okay, so you've got the three main Dreadnoks," Lady Jaye said. "How about one of the - for want of a better phrase - one of the lesser known guys? Like…Zanzibar?"
Mel nodded, rustling the foil pieces in her hair. "Morgan Teach, pirate wannabe," she said promptly. "Low even by Dreadnok standards, an' that's pretty damn sad if ya ask me. 'E's a glorified pickpocket, really."
"Pretty much," Jaye agreed. She settled herself on the couch. "So. Mel."
Uh oh. That sounded suspicious. "Yeah…?" she asked warily.
"You're from Melbourne, right?"
Mel chuckled at Jaye's pronunciation; Mel-born, rather than Mel-ben. She sat on the couch beside Jaye; Covergirl sprawled out comfortably on the floor. "Yeah, I'm from Melbourne."
Maybe it'd be good to take her mind off work for a little while. At least until it was time to wash the bleach from her hair.
Mel did a pretty decent double take - again - when she caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. She had to admit, Covergirl and Lady Jaye had done a good job; she hardly even recognised herself. Her choppy brown hair was now choppy blue-black hair, with streaks of bright green and purple that stood out a mile. Her fingernails matched; Covergirl had painted them fluoro green, then swiped a layer of purple over the top, which had crackled, allowing the green to show through.
Mel felt very eighties punk.
The two ladies had spent most of the day in the apartment; they'd left about an hour ago. Mel had been rereading her notes on the Dreadnoks, just in case anything else jumped out at her. Nothing had; she had all the important stuff memorised already. Everything else she could get away with not knowing - it wouldn't raise questions if she didn't know something like, say…Torch's favourite drink.
Grape soda and chocolate ice cream float. But she only really remembered that because it was just gross.
Since Jaye and Covergirl had left, Mel had been wandering around the apartment, trying to keep herself occupied. It was always like this just before an op - she felt at odds with herself, stuck halfway between the person she was and the person she was pretending to be. She did get nervous, but that was a good thing - somebody had once told her that when she stopped getting nervous, she should rethink her career.
She wasn't nervous…not yet. The jitters would creep up on her later, though. It wouldn't matter how much she tried to clear her mind tonight; she knew she wouldn't get much sleep.
Mel threw herself down on the couch and picked up the magazine Covergirl had left her. She put it down again after quickly flipping through and not reading any of it. She'd done enough reading over the last couple of days to last her a little while - there were a lot of files on the Dreadnoks and Cobra, and some of it was the weirdest stuff she'd ever seen.
She stretched out on the couch, snatched up the remote and turned the TV on. She flicked from channel to channel for a while before finally settling on the last thirty minutes of Macgyver.
Ah, Macgyver. He was still awesome.
The familiar knock sounded on the door just as the credits started rolling. Mel started to get up, but then leaned back as she heard it open.
"You're kidding, right?" Duke sounded like he was grinning. "Macgyver?"
"Oi," she said playfully, glancing over the back of the couch to see him standing by the door. "Do not mock Macgyver, Hauser."
His eyebrows raised when he saw her, and for a moment he just stared. Then, he raised his hands and dipped his head a little in surrender. "Sorry," he said, chuckling. "I promise I won't mock Macgyver."
"Good." She switched the TV off and got up, grinning at the expression on his face.
He looked her up and down, studying her. "Well…you certainly look the part," he said. "I bet Covergirl and Lady Jaye had fun."
"Yeah, just a bit," she said, chuckling. "Jeez, they can talk, can't they?"
His eyes lingered on her slightly longer than necessary. It wasn't exactly noticeable, but Mel had learned to pick up on things like that - small changes in body language, inflections in voices. Sometimes, even the slightest nod of the head could mean the difference between life and death - she'd seen it before.
And anyway - Duke was easy to read. He had no reason to hide anything…not while he was here. Mel was certain he'd be different in the field; Covergirl and Lady Jaye had told her earlier that the G.I Joe's first shirt was a real hardarse.
Mel sniggered and twirled on the spot, giving him an all-round view, then stuck her hands in his face so he could see her garish nails - the purple and green had grown on her. "See?"
He grasped her wrists and pulled her hands away from his face so he could see clearly, then shook his head.
"What, don'tcha like it?" she asked.
Duke shook his head. "Not particularly, no," he answered bluntly. His voice had a slightly disapproving tone to it.
She rolled her eyes. "Well, it's lucky ya don't 'ave ta, then, innit?" she said, a little more indignantly than she'd intended.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I'm just saying I don't like the look," he said quietly, tugging gently on a lock of green hair before flipping it away from her eyes. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you really were a Dreadnok."
"Uh…that's the whole damn point, Hauser," she said dryly, raising an eyebrow.
He sighed. "I know," he said. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it, right?"
Mel scowled at him, pushed past him and stalked to the fridge. "You still don' reckon I can do it, do ya?"
"It's not that -"
"What, then?" she snapped. "Maybe ya shoulda just got Scarlett ta go in; ya obviously trust 'er more'n me." Mel yanked the fridge door open, sticking her head right in so she didn't have to look at him. The cold air felt good on her burning face - she was so annoyed, she was sure she'd turned bright red.
"The Dreadnoks know Scarlett," Duke pointed out patiently. "The Dreadnoks know most of us. Mel, if I - if we - didn't trust you, you wouldn't be here."
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, calming herself as she blew out a long breath. Now wasn't the time to start holding grudges. She opened her mouth -
"Mel."
She froze as Duke's hand covered hers. He pulled her away from the fridge and let it swing shut. The wheezy hiss the door made as it sealed was very loud in the sudden silence.
Duke turned her slowly to face him. "It's just the look," he repeated. "Everything else…I like everything else very much. That's why I want you to be careful."
Smooth…but Mel wasn't going to make it easy for him. "Ya know, I'm gettin' kinda sicka you sayin' that."
Duke flapped his arms in frustration. "Well, what the hell else can I say?"
She looked up at him. He met her eyes.
Aw, just bloody do it. Ya know ya wanna.
Without warning, she hooked her hands behind his neck and pulled him toward her, tipping her head up and kissing him unashamedly.
He gave a small grunt of surprise, and for a moment he just stood there doing nothing. Apparently, he hadn't been expecting it. Grinning against his lips, Mel slipped one hand down to his broad chest, gathering a handful of his shirt. He tentatively reached for her, his fingertips lightly resting on her hips as he softly kissed her back. He tasted of coffee.
She could've stood there like that all night. She wanted to…especially when it seemed like he wanted the same thing. Instead, she pulled away. As she stepped back, she realised that she'd been standing on her tiptoes.
Smiling slightly at the look on Duke's face - an amusing, really quite adorable mixture of 'you shouldn't've done that' and 'why'd you stop?' - Mel leaned her elbows on the kitchen counter. "I just wanted ta do that before I went. You know…just in case. No regrets."
He gave a soft laugh, turning around and leaning his butt against the bench beside her. "Right. So, nothing personal?"
Mel glanced sideways at him. Had he sounded a little…disappointed? "Well, I s'pose it depends."
"On what?" he pressed. He fixed her with an intense blue stare.
"On whether ya decide ta kick me arse or not. You're my commandin' officer, Duke; doesn' matter where I'm from or what I've gotta do. But just so ya know, I'm not gonna 'pologise for it. You know what I do; any day could be me last. So when I see somethin' I like…" Mel trailed off with a dismissive shrug. It didn't really matter what Duke decided; it would have to wait until after the op. In less than twelve hours they'd be on the move, and both of them would have bigger things to worry about.
Like staying alive.
To her surprise, Duke chuckled quietly. "I'm not gonna kick your ass, Mel," he assured her. "You might've noticed I didn't exactly stop you."
"Oh, I noticed," she said, biting her bottom lip to keep the satisfied grin off her face. It didn't quite work - Duke laughed again as she ducked her head and smiled at her hands instead.
Mel couldn't help herself. She started sniggering softly, and in a few moments she burst out laughing, as well. She had no idea why she was laughing…but it was fun, and Duke was grinning, too.
She fell silent eventually, wiping at her eyes. "Aaah. Right, then."
"Uh huh," Duke said.
They stood in easy silence for a few seconds.
"So…why not?" Mel asked suddenly, glancing sideways at him.
"Hm?"
"Why din'tcha stop me? Kissin' ya, I mean."
Again, Duke met her eyes. Then he turned and reached his arm across her body, trapping her against the counter. "You're not the only one who sees something they like," he murmured, leaning close.
Mel blinked, surprised, as he took her chin in his hand and kissed her again, more insistently than before. He stepped closer to her, pushing her back against the bench. The square edge of the counter dug into the small of her back uncomfortably, but right now she couldn't have cared less.
She was sure he could feel her heart beating in her chest. It was the only thing she couldn't control; she could keep her breath in check, she could hold back her emotions. They were running hot at the moment - she was definitely thinking things she shouldn't be. Like what she wanted Duke to do with his hands, where else she wanted him to kiss…how it would feel to have him push her down onto the big bed in her room…
But she really needed to stop that. She was starting her mission tomorrow, and she had to keep her mind on the job. "Duke," she said, reluctantly pushing her hands against his chest.
"I know," he answered, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Actually, I'm kinda glad ya did," she admitted.
For a moment, Duke just stood there looking at her. Then he gave a small, huffing laugh as he shook his head again. "Maybe I should kick your ass," he said good-naturedly.
"Oi, that one was your fault, not mine," she retorted.
He was about to answer when they heard the knock on the door. It opened, and Mel looked around to see Scarlett smiling - smiling suspiciously - at them both. "What's going on here?" she asked - her tone suggested that she knew exactly what was going on.
Duke let go of Mel quickly. Unable to help herself, Mel smiled back at Scarlett cheekily. "Nuthin'," she answered, giving the redhead a wink. "I'm gonna go 'ave a shower - no tellin' how long it'll be til I get another one, if what I read 'bout Dreadnok hygiene's correct."
She turned, clapping Duke on the shoulder. He was still standing a little too close to her to be casual. "Reckon I might go ta bed afta that. Big day tomorrow, eh?"
"Yeah," Duke agreed. "Big day."
Mel headed off down the hall to the bathroom. Once she was inside, with the door locked behind her, she heaved a long sigh.
She might need to run the shower cold for a few minutes.
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?" Scarlett asked, far too innocently for Duke's liking. He shot her a look, frowning when all she did was grin mischievously at him.
"We should get some rest, too," he said abruptly.
"Aw, Duke, you're no fun."
Duke shook his head at Scarlett in exasperation, stalking past her toward the hall.
"You know, you can admit you like her," she called after him. "It wouldn't kill you to actually say it."
He turned. "That's enough, Scarlett," he said sternly.
She raised her hands defensively - but, wisely, she didn't say anything else. Not that he knew what he would've answered with if she had.
Duke strode quickly past the bathroom, trying to ignore the sound of the running water, and closed his bedroom door behind him.
Dammit.
Mel shouldn't have kissed him. He shouldn't have let her kiss him; not only was he her commanding officer, but they had a major mission starting tomorrow. Neither of them could afford distractions, but she was more at risk than he was. It was her life that would be on the line every second of the mission - he and the others were only extras setting the stage.
But she did have a point. Any day could be her last.
And he wasn't exactly blameless in this situation, either. You're not the only one who sees something they like? Really?
Duke smiled wryly to himself as he pulled open his closet to make sure his monkey suit wasn't wrinkled. Trust him to have a thing for Mel - he'd always liked a woman who knew what she wanted and had the guts to go for it. Scarlett had been one of those women…but she was spoken for, and HE respected that; as soon as Duke realised Shana and the black-clad ninja, Snake Eyes, were together, he'd backed off. Snake Eyes was a good man who'd been through a lot - he deserved every bit of happiness he could get. Not to mention that he could probably kill Duke ten times over before he hit the ground.
Duke had been flirting with Mel; he wouldn't deny that. He was attracted to her: she was pretty, intelligent, she could hold her own when a situation got hot…and it was surprising just how damn cute an Australian accent could be when it wasn't coming from a Dreadnok. Mel had a dry sense of humour, and most of the time she was pretty laid-back.
Most of the time. When she wasn't pushing his buttons…or getting her back up because he'd pushed hers.
Duke shook his head to himself. Scarlett had been right; he did like a challenge. And Mel was definitely a challenge.
But just because he was attracted to her was no excuse. He should've stopped her. And he definitely shouldn't have kissed her that second time. She'd been right to push him away.
Duke sighed.
Dammit.