If at any point my OC veers towards sueishness, please flame me into a quivering pile of ash. Thank you.

PT the next morning wasn't bad…for the senior team. The greenshirts, however…

Snake winced as the marine he'd stomped on the day before-CueBall-took a nosedive into the mud pit under the poles. Beach's voice snapped out across the field.

"That's the third time! Get yer ass up, and haul your useless butt to the track. Ten laps, then try it again! Goddammit, how in hell'd you make it through basic!"

The SEAL and BuckleUp had made it through with only minor chewing out; one of the army boys had gotten so lit up at the sniper gauntlet that he almost had more blue and orange paint than mud covering him. BeachHead had thoroughly reamed the man out, and then sent him through the obstacle course twice more, then finally sent him into the grass to "Do pushups until I get tired, goddamnit."

The other two army men had made it to the razor wire before the Wrath of BeachHead had descended; both had emerged with bloodied backs and were running the course again with the little Air Force pilot. HeadBanger had taken a full forty-five seconds longer than anyone else to clear the course, and BeachHead had notbeen pleased.

"Y'know," Scarlett said thoughtfully by Snake's side, "I really think that nothing makes him happier than a load of new recruits"

*You might be right.* Snake Eyes, Scarlett, Duke, Flint, Tommy, and a few other Joes were watching the drill sergeant pound the greenshirts into the dust.

"Shorty!" Beach roared at Banger, who was struggling with the twelve foot wall. "Either grow three feet or get your teammate to help you up! How the hell'd I get stuck with a goddamn midget, anyways?"

One of the army boys popped his head over the top of the wall, leaned down, and held out a hand. Banger jumped, and just barely managed to catch hold. The man dragged her up until she caught hold of one of the ropes. She scrambled over the top.

The pilot had one advantage in the course; she had better balance than the male greenies, and so far was the only one who hadn't taken a dive off of the poles into the mud. Her small size also helped her with the snipers-she was a smaller target than the taller men. Still, she'd caught more than her share of paintballs, and had been subsequently reamed by Beach.

The climbing obstacles gave her problems, and she had to be helped by her teammates twice more. By the time the three finally staggered across the chalked finish line, BeachHead was scowling.

"Fucking amazing that you two have any goddamn skin left on your goddamn backs." Beach snarled at the two army greenshirts. "You willlearn to get your asses down, because if you ever get shot I will leave your sorry butts to bleed. Ten laps. Move!" He roared the last word as the greenies groaned.

"You!" The ranger rounded on the pilot. "You've got the upper-body strength of a goddamned noodle.I don't care if you never see ground combat; you willbe able to back up infantry if you have to. Get down in the grass…On your knuckles, dammit, not on your palms...and do pushups until I say stop!" The Sergeant Major scowled. "Damn Chair Force slackers."

"At least she's smart enough not to talk back." Duke observed, as the pilot went up on her knuckles and began puffing away. "She'd be dead."

"They'll be out here for awhile." Flint cracked his neck. "Alison wanted to have lunch…see you guys around." The warrant officer strode off.

Storm Shadow mimed cracking a whip at Flint's back. "She's got him well trained."

"They always get clingy before one of them goes out on a mission." Scarlett observed. "I think it's cute."

"You would…you've got my sword brother almost as whipped." Tommy slid his shin back, and the toe of her boot missed. Duke shook his head; Snake knew that the occasional friction between his girlfriend and his sword brother had caused the Top Sergeant more than one headache.

Duke didn't say anything about his team mates completely ignoring fraternization regulations. The G.I. Joe brass had more or less given up on the traditional military frat regs; apparently, no one was brave enough to try and pry Flint and Jaye or himself and Shana apart.

Which Snake Eyes was completelyfine with. He'd really hate to have to disobey direct orders, but if those orders involved leaving Shana, he wouldn't really have had much choice.

They looked back at BeachHead and his panting recruits. The men on the track were staggering along, and Beach was haranguing them to pick up the pace, while simultaneously yelling at CueBall for catching a paintball square on the back of the skull. Banger was groaning in the grass; Snake could see her arms shaking as she passed her fortieth pushup.

At sixty, her arms gave out and she collapsed. BeachHead glared down at her.

"You're gonna lie there 'till you can move, and then you're gonna finish up your set of a hundred. Got it, midget?"

A muffled groan.

"I'm sorry." Beach Head crouched next to her. "Didn't quite catch that…was that 'Yes, Drill Sergeant?"

She spit out some grass. "Yes, Drill Sergeant." She grated out.

"That's better…" Beach turned back to the track. "You meatbags finished yet? Goddamnit, my gramma could run laps faster than you…"

"C'mon." Shana tugged at Snake Eyes' arm. "Flint's right…its past noon. I'm hungry. Plus, Roadblock was going to make pork chops today."

*Really?* Snake Eyes perked up. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Dusty and Spirit do an abrupt about face at her words and take off for the Pit at a good clip. Tommy passed the two before they'd gone twenty feet.

"Yep." She scowled at the retreating backs. "And I'm guessing we'd better hurry, or there won't be any left."

"Damn." Duke sighed regretfully. "I've got briefings with this lot once Beach finishes with them. Get Roadblock to save me one, will you?"

"I'll tell him to keep one warm." Scarlett tugged at Snake's arm again; he went with her willingly.

The pork chops were outstanding. They were just finishing when the greenshirts came staggering into the mess hall, followed by Duke and BeachHead. The drill sergeant started chatting with Roadblock; the two got along well.

"Ouch." Scarlett watched the greenies slump gratefully into chairs. "God, I'm glad that I'm used to it now. I could barely walk for a week after he started up."

Snake Eyes twisted around, eyed the recruits, and shrugged. Scarlett snorted. "I know…you neverhad a problem with him." She poked him in the shoulder. "Some of us are actually mortals, oh mighty ninja."

He snorted with laughter, and she smiled.

Snake saw Tommy suddenly cock his head, and the white-clad ninja snapped to his feet a split second before Hawk stumped into the mess hall. There was a mass scraping of chairs as people jumped to attention, the greenshirts wincing as they stood.

"At ease." Hawk barely glanced at the room; he made a beeline towards…Jaye?

"Wonder what's up?" Scarlett's eyes had gone sharp; it was the counterintelligence agent that was speaking now, as Jaye saluted the general and hurried out of the mess hall, her tray abandoned. "She wasn't supposed to ship out for two weeks yet…" She stood, picking up her tray. "I've got to go talk to Breaker."

She hurried off. Snake returned his own tray, and then headed straight for Tommy.

His sword brother was sitting with Stalker again. Snake folded himself into a chair to Stalker's left.

*What did Hawk say?* He knew that his sword brother, with his impossible hearing, had caught every word.

Storm Shadow was looking thoughtful. "Some satellite photos pinned down the Baroness less than twenty miles from an old Russian missile silo…one that's still heavily guarded. Jaye's team is leaving immediately…Hawk wants to know what Cobra's up to as soon as possible."

The ninja frowned. "I'm surprised he's not sending you or me along, Snake. Or both of us. I know what Destro could do with a few tons of nuclear material…It wouldn't be pretty."

"He's inserting Jaye as a secretary in a local military base." Stalker said. "It's still a sensitive area…I think that the brass above Hawk wants to make sure that there's no body count off of this op. And," Stalker smiled a little. "You two have exactly one response to being caught on an op. Jaye's pretty and smart enough to weasel her way out of pretty much anything. Ace is transport, and SnowJob and Footloose are being inserted as security personnel just to feed Jaye extra info. You two…for all your skills…aren't what the brass wanted this time around."

Yes; Snake could see that. He knew, without conceit, that he was one of the best commandos, covert spies, and assassins alive. He could sneak into pretty much any base, anywhere, anytime, and lift or remove any target he was given. But weaseling intel out of a reticent target without breaking said target's arms and, indeed, without him even knowing that he was being worked over? That was Jaye's territory.

Storm Shadow sniffed. "I don't get caught."

*Except when you do.* Snake Eyes pointed out. *I caught you more than once when you were still working for the Commander.*

"That was you." But Tommy didn't argue the point. "'Lonzo, how do you know what's going down, anyway?"

"I was talking to Flint, and Flint talks to Jaye on a fairly regular basis." Stalker's voice was dry.

"Point." Tommy leaned back and sipped his iced tea. "Damn. I've wanted to kill the Baroness for years. Bossy bitch. Used to try and order me around like I was her damn slave." He grimaced.

*Your girlfriend is on her way over.* Snake eyes could hear the footsteps of the tiny pilot approaching behind him.

"What?" Stalker almost choked on his mashed potatoes. "Tommy?"

*The new recruit-the pilot. The two of them have been flirting since hand-to-hand yesterday.*

Stalker started laughing. "Whooo! You move fast,ninja man!"

"Shut it." Storm Shadow glared at them.

"Hi." Snake heard Banger's voice behind him. "Mind if I sit?"

"Of course not." Storm Shadow glared at his friends. Snake shrugged; Stalker was still laughing to himself.

"So." The woman sat across from Tommy. Winced. "Damn…I still can't feel my arms…Is he always that bad?"

"Yes." Stalker straightened up. "BeachHead? He isn't happy if he isn't chewing someone out. Best drill instructor in the world, though. He makes sure we're ready for pretty much any situation that comes our way. Hell of a soldier, too…I've seen him on the battlefield."

"Yeah…ground combat's not my thing." Banger sighed loudly. "Put me in a plane, and I'm happy. Flying is what I do well, not humping a pack over an obstacle course." She glanced at Snake. "Or breaking people with my bare hands."

"You'd like CoverGirl." Tommy said. "She's a tank jockey…downright scary in a wolverine, decent with an M16. Beach is hard on everyone, though. Don't take it personally."

"It stops hurting after the first two weeks." Stalker went back to his potatoes. "Well…stops hurting as much."

She grinned suddenly. "I've seen the planes here…BeachHead can yell at me all day, every day, so long as I can get my hands on those Ghoststriker X-16s. I could spin one of those on a dime. It's like they took the F-16 and decided it didn't have enough guns." She sighed happily. "I knewI transferred for a reason."

"That's the onlyperk of this deployment?" Storm Shadow raised an eyebrow. "The hardware?"

"It's a big perk…but no." She smiled at Tommy. "The people here…aside from BeachHead…seem nice. I really like Scarlett."

"Everyone likes Scarlett." Stalker observed. Snake Eyes smiled. His girlfriend's people skills were legend.

"I like hand to hand, too." Banger's smile deepened, and Tommy's Patented Megawatt Smirk spread across the ninja's face. "Its…interesting."

Snake Eyes and Stalker-both of whom had known Thomas Arashikage for many years-rolled their eyes in unison.

Much later, back in his quarters, Snake was cleaning and oiling Scarlett's M16 as she sorted through intelligence briefs, hunched over her tiny desk.

"Damn." She straightened; Snake Eyes heard her spine pop, and she winced. "This could be bad."

*How bad?* He cocked an eyebrow.

"According to this," She gestured at the papers in front of her, "There's an old missile storage facility that was never fully decommissioned. The town that grew up around it-originally founded by military families during the Cold War-is now a civilian area. There's enough material still in the area to make at least two fully functioning nuclear warheads." She sighed, rubbed the back of her neck. "I've been sorting through newspaper clips and security feed for the last three hours, and look at this." She pulled out a grainy black-and-white photograph and handed it to him.

Snake hissed through his teeth. This wasbad. *Bludd. How long ago was this taken?*

"Two weeks." Scarlett plucked the photo out of his hand. "And if Bludd and the Baroness are both in the area…one mightbe a coincidence, but not both."

She stacked up the papers. "I'll turn this into Hawk tomorrow…I hope he sent enough firepower along with Jaye."

He could hear the worry for her friend in her voice. Snake clicked the last part of the M16 back into place, stood, and went to stand behind her. He moved her hair out of the way and began to knead the back of her neck. He paused long enough to sign. *Jaye can take care of herself…and Footloose, Ace, and SnowJob are all tough guys. Don't worry.*

"Oooh." She sighed, and rolled her head to one side. "Don't stop doing that…and thanks. I know, she'll be fine."

*Besides.* He smiled. *If things go south, we can get a team there inside of a few hours…and then we all get to have fun.*

That got a little laugh. "You just want to go to Russia to get your hands on a real vintage combat-used-but-still-in-good-condition NR-40 trench knife…I know you've been after one for years."

*There isn't a single one in decent shape in the continental US, I swear. People kept using them until they destroyed them.*

She stood, smiled, and turned to wrap her arms around his neck. "You know, other guys collect baseball cards. Plus, you're running out of wall space."

He snorted. *I've still got the cabin.*

She kissed him on the chin. "Sweetheart, I thought that we'd agreed…my crossbow collection goes in the cabin." She smiled as he shook with silent laughter. "I suppose you could have the north wall…that's still fairly empty."

*Thank you.* He kissed her. *Very generous of you.*

She kissed him back, and then suddenly shoved him backwards. He landed on the bed, grinning. She crawled up to straddle him, planting her hands on his chest. "I think you owe me a favor, now." She cocked her head and gave him a look that was pure sin. "I need to be distracted from my work, or I'll never sleep tonight. Think you can help with that?"

*Possibly.* He rolled them, reached up under her shirt, and expertly popped the clasp of her bra with one hand. She tugged at the zipper of his bodysuit, and ran her hands along the muscles of his chest.

"You have just a ridiculouslygreat body…have I ever told you that?" She smirked up at him. He smiled, kissed her.

His bodysuit ended up draped over the headboard, and he wasn't quite sure how her bra ended up on the bedside lamp. Afterwards, when she was snoring contentedly against his chest, he tossed it in the general direction of the dresser, and leaned back against the pillow.

For all his confidence when he'd been reassuring her, he wasworried…Cobra sniffing around nuclear missiles wasn't a good situation. And if Bludd was there…Snake had dealt with Bludd before. The man was a coward at heart, and never went anywhere without at least thirty vipers, a smattering of Dreadnoks, and preferably the option to call in air support. Snake liked Jaye, and Footloose, SnowJob, and Ace were all good guys.

He would have felt better if Hawk had sent him or Storm Shadow along…he knew his abilities, those of his sword brother. Ninja trained to cause the maximum amount of havoc amongst a superior force, and to strike and kill with lightning speed. They trained-he trained-to decimate an enemy as quickly, quietly, and efficiently as possible. While vipers and Dreadnoks were good gunmen and decent at hand-to-hand, Snake knew firsthand that they were no match for either himself or Tommy.

Hell, most of G.I. Joe, the most highly trained and competent military force on the planet, were no match for himself or Tommy.

He puffed out a sigh. He couldn't do anything until Hawk ordered him out…short of 'jacking a plane and following the four Joes to Russia. Tempting, but a court-martial just wouldn't be fun.

Next chappy…aerial acrobatics, care packages, ninja supply orders, and things in Russia (predictably) start to head south….