Doctor Grey had just finished showing the girl from the crash how to adjust her new hearing aids, and they were both utterly relieved at the idea of not having to spend more time together. Grey had discovered that for the most part, the girl was a calm and amicable patient; she understood her situation and dealt with it as well as Dr. Grey imagined anyone would. However, the longer they spent together, the more the doctor noticed that she displayed some rather odd nervous ticks.

First of all, the girl really liked to hum. But what caught Grey off guard, was that she started doing it even while she was talking to her.

"Would you mind not humming while I'm trying to speak with you?" she would ask in her singsong voice.

"What?"

Grey sighed, then repeated more clearly, "Please. Don't. Hum."

The girl would stare at her strangely. "I'm not humming."

"Yes you-" Grey started, but was interrupted by her humming.

Secondly, she would notice the girl seemingly staring blankly at the ceiling. But when she attempted to get her attention, the girl would throw a fit.

"Can't you see I'm counting?!" she would yell.

Grey looked back up at the ceiling. It was completely blank; there weren't even tiles to count. "What are you-"

"Gah! Again?"

The thing that got Grey the most though, was that she would unconsciously re-appropriate historical quotes as her own.

"Ask not what your doctor can do for you;" she would start before turning, dramatically looking into Grey's eyes, "ask what you can do for your doctor!"

"Kennedy?" Grey would suggest hopefully.

"How the hell would I know?"

Needless to say, after four hours of physicals, blood tests, hearing tests, and configuring the aid, Grey was at her wits end.

Finally she asked, "Can you hear me now?"

"I can! I can totally hear you!" The girl lit up and gave her an awkward high five. "That sucked! But it's cool. Are we done here?"

Grey nodded. "Come in for a check-up tomorrow morning at eight. Until then, you're free to go!" she said happily.

"Sweet! Catch you on the flip side, Doc!" she waved and left the medibay.

The minute she was out of hearing range, Dr. Grey screamed away her frustrations at the top of her lungs. She had no more patients for the rest of the day.

Tucker rarely left Wash's side since they'd picked him up in the badlands. Ever since he'd lost the majority of his platoon, he'd been more conscious of mortality in war. Now more than anything, Tucker didn't want Wash to die. Not just because he was his friend, but because he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if the last thing Wash heard from him was"'F *& you, dude."

What frustrated him the most about this whole situation was that he didn't know who to blame. Wash had been a stubborn jerk, and Tucker hadn't been any better; but in the end his thoughts always found their way back to her.

Around base everyone kept talking about "the girl from the crash site;" how Washington had risked his life for her, and how she was seemingly "in" with the reds and blues now. Almost everywhere he went, he was confronted by people wanting to know more about her and what her connection to Agent Washington was. In the end it was Carolina who told everyone to f#$^ off and leave him alone.

But Tucker's reputation as a notorious skirt chaser hadn't helped in this matter either. He dreaded going back to his bunk each night, as people would make snide remarks whenever he came close. "Is she hot?" they'd ask jokingly. "On a scale of 1 to 10, how hard would you hit that?"

The truth was that this was one skirt he wasn't looking to chase. She wasn't a woman at all to him, she was just the person that might be responsible for getting his friend killed.

So on this night of nights, as visitors were asked to leave the medibay, Tucker couldn't help but feel the knot in his chest tighten. "Hang in there, buddy," he whispered to his comatose friend before leaving.

He hadn't gotten very far when he heard someone behind him call his name. Completely put-out, he just yelled, "F#*& off!"

"Captain Tucker!" the voice rang out clearer this time.

He cringed. "Shit, I messed up," he muttered before turning to face Kimball. "Hey there! Didn't...didn't know it was you…" he trailed off half-apologetically.

"It's fine," she told him. "You've been under a lot of stress lately, I get it."

He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "So...what can I do for you?"

"I wanted to talk. About the crash. About the girl."

"Okay…"

"Come with me to my office," she waved him over so they could walk together.

"You did what?!" Sarge yelled at Grif.

"I don't see what the problem is," he responded coolly.

"You asked a girl to be on red team?" Simmons remarked nervously. "What were you thinking?"

"Are the feminine wiles of Donut not enough for you?!" Sarge continued to yell.

"Oh, come on! You know it's not the same! I'm talking about an actual woman here! We've never had one of those!" Grif whined.

"Yeah," Simmons' voice cracked, "Maybe there's a reason for that."

"Simmons is right!" Sarge agreed, "Name the last time we ever had a good experience involving a woman!"

"Well, Carolina-"

"Dragged our asses around for months on some fool mission!"

"But she's-"

"A dirty blue!"

"Okay, okay! Fine. But, I'm telling you, this girl is different!" Grif protested.

"How would you even know?" asked Simmons. "Didn't she just wake up yesterday?"

"Look, I know how it sounds, but I just have this feeling…"

"Is it comin' from yer nethers?" Sarge asked gruffly.

"What? Oh God, no! Nothing like that!"

"Dude, Sarge is right. You totally have a crush on her."

"I do not!"

"Do too!"

"I do not!"

"Do too!"

"Can it! Both of you! Captain Grif, aside from the fact that she's a female, what makes you think we can trust her?"

"She has amnesia! Think about it: a total clean slate. There's nothing not to trust!"

"I'm not sure that makes sense," Simmons thought aloud.

Sarge grunted. "I'm calling it," he said, "Veto!"

"What?! You can't veto this!"

"I think you're forgetting, son: I outrank you! And I call veto!"

"But that's not-" Grif started to protest before he was interrupted by Simmons.

"Grif, I have to agree with Sarge on this. Having a girl on the team is a bad idea. So...technically, we're both kind of outvoting you."

"WHAT?! Simmons, you f#&$ing kiss-ass!"

"Hey! You know I have a hard time talking to women!"

"I can't believe-you know what? Scratch that! I can totally f#&^ing believe this. Here I am, actually trying to be proactive, (what the hell was I thinking?) and you guys go and mess it all up!"

"Normally, I'd applaud the initiative," Sarge told him, "but giving a hoot doesn't make up for faulty decision making skills!"

"Like you're one to talk…" Grif grumbled under his breath. He huffed angrily before found his resolve. "Fine," he told Sarge. "I'll make you a deal."

"A deal? What could you possibly have to-"

"The girl gets a spot on red team," Grif continued. "And if she doesn't work out…" he hesitated, "then I'll go too."

"Grif, no! What are you doing?" Simmons interjected.

Sarge looked him up and down. "You mean to tell me, that if and when this whole deal goes south, you'll walk away? I'll never have to see you again?"

Simmons shook his head, pleading, "Don't do it, Grif!"

Grif mustered up his courage, then answered, "Yes."

"Deal!" Sarge answered eagerly. "Well," he said happily, "this just made my day!" He left with a disturbing bounce in his step.

"What were you thinking?!" Simmons yelled. As much as he annoyed him, Simmons didn't know what he would do without him. "All of that, just for a girl you don't even know?!"

"Look, I…" Grif shook his head. Even he was having a hard time justifying this in his mind. "Hey," he said nervously, "What's the worst that could happen? I get kicked off of red team? So what? I never wanted to be here in the first place." And with that, he departed as well, leaving Simmons alone in the men's room.

"What we are about to discuss doesn't leave this room," Kimball told Tucker after he'd taken a seat across from her desk. "Do you understand?"

"Uh, yeah," Tucker agreed, somewhat intrigued. "Is there some spy shit going on?"

Kimball sighed, "Two weeks ago, what we believed to be a small jump-ship crash landed in the badlands under suspicious circumstances."

"Suspicious circumstances? I thought we took it down?" Tucker asked, confused.

"Our missiles did. But no one here gave the go ahead. At first we thought it was a systems glitch: radar detected the bogey and missiles were subsequently triggered to fire. We've had problems with the launch system before, so I didn't think much of it...at first.

"Regardless, I sent maintanence in to do a check-up; fix the glitch. Instead, they found this," she handed him a device the size of a large coin.

"What is it?" Tucker flipped it around to see it had a small, blinking purple light in its center.

"I've been told it's a short-range remote activation device."

"So, someone hacked your missiles."

Kimball leaned back in her seat. "The device itself isn't what disturbs me. You know we've had our fair share of sabotage, and the ordinance is old; it could have been placed months ago. No, what gets me is the range. Whoever set off those missiles had to've been within thirty meters of the device."

"Um...is that...uh-"

"That's really really close, Tucker."

He coughed, "Oh. Okay. So..."

"So," she said pointedly, "Carolina's been covering security ever since she got here. I don't think even Locus could slip through her defenses-"

"Bow chicka...ooh, never mind."

"And that means that whoever set off this device is…"

"Gay?"

"...One of us."

"Oh f#$*! You're talking about...traitory? Treachery? Tretchatory?"

"A traitor in our midst; a mole."

Tucker nervously touched the handle of his energy sword. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're the only person I trust."

He looked her dead in the eye, "Seriously?"

"Tucker, you risked your life to save my men. And you and your friends have done more to help Chorus than we've done to help ourselves. So yes, I trust you."

"Okay," he nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

She sat up in her seat. "I need you to find the mole. And I need you to figure out why they wanted that ship to crash."

He shifted restlessly in his seat. "That's kind of a tall order, don't you think?"

"Of course it is. But I have faith you can handle it."

When she left Grey's office, she found that Grif had been waiting for her outside. She came up and smiled at him.

"So... can you hear me now?" he asked awkwardly.

"Sure can," she replied. Then she said thoughtfully, "You know, your voice is more high-pitched than I thought it would be."

"It is?!" he squeaked. "I mean," he coughed and then repeated deeply, "it is?"

She laughed at him. "I'm just messing with you!"

He sighed. "Cool. I mean...yeah."

"Wanna show me around?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah! You hungry?"

"What?"

"Are you hungry?"

"What?"

He hesitated, "Are you hungry?" he said more clearly.

She frowned, and then shoved her finger in her ear. "Mother-okay, try it again?"

He sighed, "Are you hungry?"

She just shrugged.

Oh man, he thought, what have I done?

"Do you have any cheez-whiz?" she asked.

Well, he reconsidered, maybe she won't be that bad.