Author's Introduction:

I really just want to thank everyone who's read and reviewed! It's always nice to hear a story I've written is making people smile or making them think. And on to the obligatory usual disclaimer—I own nothing, all rights belong to Hasbro and Hama and the ones who gave us the characters we love so much; I'm making no money. But I am having fun. *smiles*

I would say, Bronwynn, that you have done your homework! *smiles.* Let's see how many you got right in chapter six. And Rogue, I hope you took a picture of your Zarana costume! Wish I could have been there to see that. Glad to hear you had fun at the con!

God damn sleep disorder: Yeah, I'll be up all night again…*shrugs* Where were we? Oh, right—somebody's about to get in trouble:

Breathless

A G.I. Joe fic by Firestar9mm

Chapter Six: When The World Is Coming Down Upon Her

I'll be there when the world is coming down upon her
When she's scared, I'll be there fighting in her corner
I'll be there when the walls are closing to surround her
In the air as she falls with my arms around her
Holding on, I'm looking out for her thin skin
Because she's everything
And I don't think she knows
I don't think she knows.

(Duran Duran, She's Too Much)

As soon as the door had closed behind Lady Jaye and Snake Eyes, Duke stabbed the air between him and Scarlett with a finger. "Sick bay. Now," he barked.

Scarlett threw up her hands in exasperation. "I already told the others I'm fine. There's no need—"

"Sick bay or the stockade, O'Hara. Your choice."

Scarlett's blue eyes narrowed to angry slits at the sound of her surname, and she popped a hip defiantly, as if daring him. "You wouldn't."

"That's what you think. Don't push me," he warned. They bristled at each other for a second, and then he shook his head and resumed leaning back against his desk, running a hand through his blond hair. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was doing my job," Scarlett responded ferociously, clearing her throat once more. "Civilians were in danger. I acted. Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same. If you're not okay with me doing my job then we have a problem." The forceful speech was too much for her and she coughed harshly, pressing a fist against her mouth. Her eyes were watery when she fixed them on him and asked, "Do we have a problem, Duke?"

"I always have a problem when my men are in danger, or injured," was his matter-of-fact response. "Protecting my men is my job, Scarlett. Do you have a problem with that?"

After a moment's consideration, Scarlett shook her head. "No." After another short, sharp cough, she added, "Point taken."

Duke considered the counter-intelligence agent, finding it difficult to hold onto his anger when she looked so obviously spent. A dark smudge of soot blackened one cheek, and her lower lip was swollen with a bruise, dried blood darkening the corner of her mouth. Scratches and dust dulled the shine of her breastplate, and her thermals were ripped over her upper arm. Blood spread outward from the point of impact, staining the torn fabric. Her tail of hair was tangled in knots, and her blue eyes were hazy with fatigue. Her response was as close as he was likely to get to an apology, and he realized she had to have been exhausted to have given even that much ground.

His voice was calmer as he met that tired gaze. "Scarlett, I don't have a problem with you doing your job. Breaking protocol is beside the point here—what you did was reckless, and if you'd gone down in there, you would have put the rest of your team in danger if they'd gone in after you. Worse, you didn't let the paramedics check you out, and that wasn't just reckless, it was stupid—don't interrupt," he ordered when he saw her about to speak. "I'm not going to give you the rousing speech about you being an essential part of this unit and how much the team's morale would suffer if we lost you—I'm just asking you to keep it in mind the next time you risk your neck like an idiot."

Scarlett smiled wryly. "You sure know how to flatter a girl, Top. If this is a pep talk, I'll skip the rally."

"It's not a pep talk," Duke said pointedly. "Thinking of others is an admirable quality, Scarlett. This team supports you, and they were worried you might not come back home today. Spare a thought for them next time, all right?"

Scarlett fell silent, an almost imperceptible shift of weight to one foot indicating that she was considering his words, and while she didn't overtly back down, her face relaxed, shoulders dropping in the first sign of fatigue she'd shown since their return. Her tone was gentler as she said, "…Understood."

Duke's own expression was calmly neutral once more. "You should have waited for help, and you're going directly to sick bay. That is non-negotiable."

Scarlett nodded. "All right."

"Glad to hear it. Dismissed."

She nodded, turning to leave, but when she got to the door, her chest seized with another fit of coughing. Turning to press a fist against her mouth, she saw that he was already out of his chair and at her side, steadying her and pressing his water bottle into her free hand. Smiling ruefully, she raised the bottle in a mock toast, then took a long, careful pull of the water. "Thanks."

Duke shook his head, but the look on his face was affectionately exasperated, his large hand deceptively gentle on her shoulder. "Running into a burning building without any gear. You're a real American hero, Red."

Scarlett's expression stilled, grew serious; she studied his face, as though looking for the subtext in his remark. "I didn't go in there because I wanted a tickertape parade. I really was thinking of the kids."

A smile threatened the master sergeant's face. "I never doubted it."

She narrowed her eyes warily, unconvinced, and when she spoke again her voice was uncharacteristically subdued, although whether it was from fatigue or concern was impossible to tell. "So…are we good?"

His response was immediate. "All systems go."

Scarlett finally allowed herself to smile again. "Roger that," she said, turning her back on him to head for the door, shaking her head with a little laugh.

"A real American hero," she declared mockingly, pausing at the door to smirk at him. "Honestly, Hauser, I don't know where you get this stuff."

After being dismissed, Lady Jaye and Snake Eyes took up posts opposite each other outside of Duke's office without having to discuss it. Scarlett had been detained, predictably, to get her head bitten off. For her part, Lady Jaye didn't entirely disagree with their C.O.—she wasn't arguing that Scarlett's dash into the fire had been very brave, but it had also been ill thought-out, and the rest of the Joes had been worried about her. Her flat refusal to get checked out by the paramedics had been the last straw, and Jaye thought she deserved a short touch of Duke.

"She's pissed," Lady Jaye informed her silent companion, "so be prepared for that ass-chewing conversation later."

Snake Eyes shrugged, pointing at the closed door, then turning his hand palm up and flicking it back, as though tossing something over his shoulder. Finally, he made a fist and brought it to his chin, extending his thumb and pinky. {She was wrong.}

Lady Jaye had to smile at the commando's straightforwardness; like her, he seemed completely impenitent about narcing on their teammate. Cocking an ear, she asked, "Hear anything?"

Snake Eyes shook his head. Duke was too professional to dress down one of his soldiers in public, but the report of Scarlett's recklessness on the detail had upset him enough to yell at her in front of them before he'd thrown them out here, which was saying something. Not that Snake blamed him—Scarlett's capacity to frustrate was exceeded only by her likability.

"He probably won't be happy if he catches us out here," Lady Jaye said to Snake Eyes. "Let's wait for Scarlett in—"

Too late—Scarlett emerged from the office abruptly and walked right into Snake, bumping into his chest with a sound of surprise. "Ow. What are you guys still doing here?"

Snake Eyes held out loosely open hands, palm up, wiggling his fingers before pointing at her. He ran two loosely clawed hands up and down in front of his chest. {Waiting for you. Trouble?}

Scarlett coughed. "No, but he's not happy. Thanks so much for diming me out, you two."

"It serves you right for scaring the hell out of us back on the detail, G.I. Jerk," Lady Jaye responded. "Next time I do something totally dangerous and stupid, you can tell on me. Deal?"

Scarlett swung her glare to Snake Eyes. "And I suppose you agree with her."

Snake Eyes nodded. He gave a loose shrug and threw a thumb to the side. {What else?}

"I have to go directly to sick bay. No arguments."

Lady Jaye got the feeling Snake Eyes was smirking behind his mask. He touched an index finger to his mouth and brought it down, then pointed at Scarlett before moving his hand in front of his chest, bringing his thumb out from behind his curled fingers. {Told you so.}

Scarlett gave him a withering look. "Well, congratulate you, Snake. You were right. Thanks a lo—" The complaint was defused rather neatly by another fit of coughing, this one so severe that she doubled over until it passed.

Snake Eyes put an arm around Scarlett until the worst was over; his head swiveled back to the closed office door. He tapped the air at his waist twice with closed fists and pointed at Lady Jaye, then grasped at the air and pointed at Scarlett. {Can you take her?} He held out two fists with his thumb extended and swiveled one hand into the other. {I'll catch up.}

"Sure," said Jaye.

Snake Eyes made sure he had Lady Jaye's full attention before signing again, placing his hand perpendicular to his mouth and moving it slightly forward, then repeating the motion more forcefully with his index finger, indicating Scarlett and pointing down the corridor with both index fingers. He made a fist and brushed his extended thumb from his chin outward, then spread his hands and pushed them in a slight arc from his chest outward before indicating Scarlett again. Facing Lady Jaye, he held his index finger up in front of his mouth, then moved it down to his closed fist, spreading his fingers to cover his hand. {Be sure she goes. Don't leave her. Promise.}

Lady Jaye's expression stilled as she realized the severity of the request; she nodded readily and responded, "You got it." The commando pressed fingertips to his lips and brought them down into his open hand to signal his thanks.

Scarlett turned a puzzled look to the commando. "What's wrong, Snake?"

Snake Eyes placed a gentle hand on Scarlett's shoulder, then repeated the swivel of his fist before pointing both index fingers down the corridor. He curled his hands into fists again and touched his knuckles together in front of his chest, then indicated Lady Jaye. {I'll catch up. Go with Lady Jaye.}

Scarlett looked concerned, but her exhaustion was winning out; after a moment's hesitation, she nodded. Lady Jaye helped her decision by wrapping a hand around the other woman's wrist and tugging gently. "Come on, you big damn hero. I'll walk you down to sick bay."

Scarlett took a shuffling step to catch up with the arm Lady Jaye was pulling on, but regained her feet quickly. "Th…" She coughed again. "Thanks."

Snake Eyes watched them go, unhappy with the way Scarlett seemed to be wobbling as she walked down the corridor, and knew she wasn't being honest about how rough she obviously felt. She'd been stonewalling them since they'd left the city, but there was little the commando could do about it—it wasn't as though he could pull rank on her.

Which was why he was hoping someone else had.

There might have been a few things Snake Eyes envied Master Sergeant Conrad Hauser, but his job was not and had never been one of them. The commando came and went as he pleased and took care of business as he saw fit, whereas Duke was pinioned by protocol and responsibility. The man loved his job and his country and was very good at what he did, but Snake was fairly certain that on days like this, he realized the job didn't love him back.

Right now the master sergeant leaned back in his desk chair and arched a curious brow at the commando who'd requested entrance to his office. "Something else to report, Snake Eyes?"

Yes, there was something. First placing his fingertips against his mouth and letting his hand fall to his other open palm, he brought it back up against his brow and opened and closed his fingers. Finally, he rotated his hand between them to grasp empty air and tossed it back over his shoulder. {The good guys won,} he reminded his C.O., holding up two fist with thumbs extended and brushing his knuckles together, one index finger pointing upwards. He brought both index fingers back towards himself, then flipped his palms outward. He moving his fingertips from his mouth to his cheekbone, then touched them to his mouth and brought them down to his open palm, finally folding one arm over the other, one index finger extended. {Everyone came home. It was a good day.}

The barest ghost of a smile flickered across the blond soldier's face as he worked through the signing, but his eyes remained dark. "Why do the stupid details always end up being the dangerous ones?"

{You didn't know.} Snake pointed at the master sergeant and made a circle with one hand, holding it before his brow.

Duke's jaw tightened. "I should have considered it. It's my job to consider it."

{Disappointed?} Snake Eyes asked with an index finger to his chin, and while the master sergeant couldn't see it, he arched a brow behind his mask.

Duke relaxed fractionally. "No. You sent the bad guys packing and you didn't lose any of my Joes." Angling a glance at the commando, he added, "I'm going to follow up with Zap and Spirit when they get in, but you guys seemed to have had better odds out there. Lady Jaye and Scarlett…"

Feeling a need to defend his teammates, Snake Eyes pointed at the door, drawing a line in the air, then swung loosely clawed hands from side to side. He touched the knuckles of his fists together, thumbs extended, and drew one hand up, then made a circle with one hand, last three fingers extending. Finally he tapped one fist lightly atop the other. {They did most of the work.}

"Yes, but according to the report, they also did a lot of dangerous things." For the first time since they'd returned, the master sergeant looked tired; Snake Eyes got the impression he would have preferred being on the detail himself to helplessly hearing after the fact how what should have been a simple, laughable mission had gone FUBAR about ten minutes in. Eyes darkening, he glanced at the closed office door, then back to the commando. "You didn't come in here just to tell me that."

No, he hadn't, and Snake Eyes had to smirk behind his mask; very little got past Duke, and the master sergeant was giving him permission to get to the point. The commando briefly debated how to conduct his questions as efficiently as possible—he appreciated their C.O.'s determined attempts to follow his signs despite his limited understanding of them, but when trying to get information it was something that could quickly become frustrating for them both. It would have been easier had Scarlett been there to translate, but there was a reason he had not wanted her present for this conversation. Luckily for him, she had been too tired to argue the point when he'd sent her away.

Finally flattening his hands palm down, Snake Eyes turned them over and curled them loosely, then touched fingertips to his mouth and brought them down, palm down. {How bad?}

Duke had no trouble understanding the commando's train of thought; he arched a blond brow in mild surprise. "You tell me. You were with her all night."

Snake Eyes frowned behind his mask. Indicating the door, he curled one hand into a fist, thumb extended, then threw it back over his shoulder. He held a hand out and brought it close to his chest, then held a flat hand perpendicular to his face and brought it away slightly. Pointing both index fingers skyward, he held one close to his face and one slightly below, then turned them both straight out. {She didn't give me a straight answer.}

Duke looked torn between laughter and confusion, although he was leaning towards the latter. "And you think I got one because...?"

Snake Eyes stopped, hands idle in midair for the sparest of seconds as he considered this unexpected response. Blinking behind his mask, he held three fingers out, drew them from his elbow up his arm, then across, the sign for "sergeant".

That did it; the master sergeant chuckled ruefully. "With Scarlett, pulling rank is about as effective as a Cobra Pogo Ball."

Translate that to mean, not very. Before he could help himself, the commando expelled air audibly through his nose in an almost comical snort—his version of a laugh, the only communication left to him that needed no translation.

But Duke only shared the laugh for a minute; his smile faded into a distant look of concern, as though he was considering his own words and had realized the joke wasn't funny. Abruptly, the blond soldier rose from his chair. "Come on. Let's go," he said to Snake Eyes, indicating the door with a flick of his head.

Snake Eyes followed, extending his thumb and little finger and tapping his knuckles against his chin. {What's wrong?}

The master sergeant's expression was determined as they walked into the now-empty corridor. "Nothing, I hope, but I'm not sitting here waiting for another bad report. You want a straight answer, don't you? Let's go get one."

Snake Eyes concluded that their C.O. hadn't gotten enough sleep, because he was full of unexpected actions this morning. The commando held out both hands parallel to each other, palms facing in, and tapped them across the air at waist height. {Plan?}

Duke's smile was almost beatific, an expression that looked out of place on the normally steely soldier. "Don't need one," he said, and while it held none of the elegance of Scarlett's motions nor the efficiency of Snake's, he managed to repeat the commando's earlier sign, drawing three fingers up his arm from his elbow, then across below his shoulder. "Remember?"

Smirking behind his mask, the commando followed his C.O. with a shake of his head, holding a sarcastic thumbs-up out in the same sign he'd given Scarlett earlier. {Good luck.}

"Sorry," Scarlett said for about the fourth time, and Lady Jaye rubbed idly at the shoulder the redhead had once again smacked into.

"Don't worry about it. Look, are you sure you're all right? You're weaving."

Weaving was actually putting it politely. Scarlett had knocked her shoulder into the corridor wall once, walked into Lady Jaye twice, and had nearly tripped them both at one point. Jaye was glad it was still so early—the Joes not on duty were likely running P.T., and the corridors were all but deserted, which meant no one was around to see Scarlett careening into things like a runaway shopping cart.

"I'm just tired," was the now-automatic response. "You know, I think I'd feel better if I just went on to bed," Scarlett said, rubbing a copper brow with two fingers, a subconscious gesture she often repeated when tired. "I'll swing by sick bay tomorrow and see Doc after I've gotten a good night's sleep. Don't you want to turn in, Lady Jaye? You're exhausted, too."

Lady Jaye frowned, crossing her arms, the cuts on which were already beginning to scab over nicely. Every ache, scrape and bruise was making itself known to her, and all she wanted was to hand Scarlett off to Doc and Lifeline and take a hot shower, then crawl into bed until nightfall. "Forget it, Red. It's zero-six-hundred and we're off the duty roster for now, so we can sleep all day if we want to—after you've been cleared by Doc. You're so shot you can't even walk in a straight line. I'm already in the doghouse with Duke for not insisting you get checked out at the scene, and if you don't go to sick bay right now, he and Snake are going to be fighting over who gets to kick my ass first. Now march."

"Well, gee, Mom…" Scarlett rolled her eyes and changed tactics. "Can I at least take a shower first?"

"Negative." Jaye shook her head.

"But I'm filthy."

"I don't give a Van Damme." Lady Jaye stopped abruptly, flinging her hands down in an expression of total exasperation. Since Scarlett had emerged from the burning warehouse, she'd been blowing off everyone's concerns like a bratty child, and the exhausted corporal was sick to her stripes of her friend's stubbornness. "You must think I'm some kind of idiot," she accused the redhead. "I've seen this movie before. You get me to agree to let you shower, and then you pull a ninja move and disappear. Forget it."

"I'd promise not to," Scarlett said immediately—which was as good as admitting she'd been considering doing exactly that—an almost pathetic expression of hope sparkling on her face at the thought of a hot shower. "I'll be quick, and I'll go to sick bay right after."

Lady Jaye gave her friend a long, steady look, evaluating her earnest expression, and came to the only logical conclusion:

"You're lying."

Scarlett's hopeful expression exploded into indignation once she realized Jaye had figured her out. "Oh, come on, Jaye, don't do me like that."

"Do you like what?" Jaye hissed, shepherding the redhead further down the corridor simply by the force of her angry stride. "Didn't Duke tell you you had to go straight to sick bay, no arguments? That should include arguing with me."

"I'm not arguing. I'm begging." Scarlett gave her friend watery blue doe eyes. "Please, Jaye. I smell like burnt tar, I'm covered in soot, and most of this blood is mine. I promise I'll go anywhere you want, just please let me take a five-minute shower so I can feel like a human being again. I won't disappear, I promise." Holding her hands out in supplication, she added, "What, do you want to watch the whole time to make sure?"

"Now that's an offer no one on this base would refuse!" a deep voice chuckled, and both women turned around to see—

"Flint!" A grin broke out on Lady Jaye's face at the sight of him coming down the corridor in the opposite direction, his big treaded boots devouring the space between them easily, crisp shirt straining over his muscular chest, cover perched jauntily on his head. He looked fresh and ready for action—which only served to remind Jaye once more that she and Scarlett had been awake for over twenty-four hours and running on adrenaline for nearly as long. "Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes."

The silver-tongued warrant officer returned her smile, taking her hand and spinning her around in a little dance move before bringing her back into the loose circle of his arms. "And you, Lady Jaye, are a vision." Glancing at Scarlett, Flint wrinkled his nose slightly. "You, Scarlett, look like you just came down the chimney, but if you brought me this little lady for Christmas, I'm willing to overlook a little soot."

Scarlett sighed through her nose wearily, rubbing at her eyebrow again. "Good morning, Flint," was all she said.

Flint shifted his weight to his heels abruptly, one arm still wrapped loosely around Lady Jaye's waist. "Scarlett," he prodded gently, arching a brow and gesturing to the redhead's filthy fatigues and tangled hair, "I'm teasing you at what is clearly an inappropriate time. Don't you have something to say about it?"

The redhead blinked hazy blue eyes, brow furrowing in confusion as she considered this. "Oh," she said suddenly, nodding in what seemed like realization. "Yes. I forgive you."

This wasn't the answer Flint had been anticipating. "That's it?" he asked.

Scarlett blinked again, brow furrowing in confusion. "Um...have a good day?"

The cordial response surprised Flint more than if she'd physically struck him. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. Are you all right?" The warrant officer let go of Lady Jaye, and both moved to flank the redhead without having to discuss it.

"Of course I'm all right," Scarlett protested absently. "I said I forgive you."

"I don't want you to forgive me. I want you to remind me it's October, and tell me to knock it off." Flint's expression had gone from teasing to concerned; he reached out to put a gentle hand on the redhead's shoulder. "What happened out there, kiddo?"

Scarlett shied away, shrugging him gently off. "I'm fine, all right? Why is everyone so worried?" Pushing her forelock off her brow, she coughed again. "I'm just a little tired, that's all."

Lady Jaye sighed through her nose at the sad sight of her friend. "Sick bay is on the same level as our quarters. I guess a shower isn't unreasonable," she relented, and it was worth it to see Scarlett brighten. Not wanting her to get any other ideas, Jaye stabbed the air between her and the redhead with an index finger. "But I'm coming with you and standing outside the door, then personally escorting you to sick bay, so don't even think about trying to give me the slip or I'll make you wish you were back in that warehouse. And for heaven's sake, be quick about it, would you?"

Scarlett beamed, ignoring the threat in light of having gotten her way. "You're a princess, Lady Jaye."

Lady Jaye waved a hand dismissively as they moved at a much faster pace down the corridor. "Yeah, yeah. Hurry up, will you? This princess feels like she could sleep for a hundred years." Glancing at Flint, who was bringing up the rear, she gave him a wry smile. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

Flint checked his watch. "I don't have to report in for another hour and a half. Let it never be said I wouldn't see my girl to the door."

Lady Jaye felt the smile digging a hole in her cheek as she turned to face front once more, eyeing Scarlett, who seemed to be concentrating very hard on striding forward in a relatively straight line. So far, she wasn't doing too badly, but the fact that she was having to work at it just made Jaye more anxious to get her to sick bay and have Doc or Lifeline check her out. As for Flint, she knew there'd be no dismissing him until he'd seen her tucked safely into bed, but she couldn't really bring herself to complain about that too hard.

There were times when it was to the female Joes' advantage to be in the minority on base. She and Scarlett had each been issued a single-occupancy room at the end of a relatively quiet corridor of the Pit's living quarters, and while they had to share a bathroom between the rooms, it was hardly an issue and far better than the alternative, which was a latrine on an entirely different floor. Lady Jaye had not allowed Scarlett to enter her own quarters, deciding it would be too much of a temptation for the redhead to collapse into bed. The corporal had elected instead to fetch Scarlett clean clothes while Flint stood guard to ensure she didn't bolt. Now Jaye stationed herself across from the bathroom door and leveled a serious gaze on Scarlett as she handed her the folded garments and a towel. "I mean it, don't be long," she said. "I'm staying out here the whole time. If you're not out in ten minutes I'm coming in after you. Got that?"

Scarlett nodded once, quickly, then vanished into the bathroom before Jaye could change her mind. Once she was inside and water could be heard running behind the closed door, Lady Jaye swung her serious gaze to the still-grinning Flint. "And your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to keep me awake until she gets to sick bay."

"I'll keep you awake as long as you like, and then I'll put you to sleep with a bang," Flint promised, taking advantage of their solitude to wind her in his arms, bringing her close for a kiss. Jaye's eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion and relief settling over her like an old, comfortable blanket as his embrace constricted possessively around her, his mouth warm and demanding. Oh, to just let go, to collapse against him...but she couldn't.

"Been waiting for that," Flint purred when he broke their kiss, settling her comfortably against his chest and giving her a squeeze. "Since last night, I've been waiting for that."

"Was it only last night?" Jaye murmured idly into his strong shoulder, cuddling into his embrace as though she wanted to curl up in him. Her head spun with the idea that only a day had gone by, when it felt like years, like ages. "Seems so long ago…"

Flint's lips sought her brow, the kiss a balm, a blessing. His fingers were in her hair, stroking, soothing. "You're home now."

"Home…" The word made a pretty sound as she tightened her hold on him, eyes closing again, the better to feel how strong and solid he was. Her lips curled in an idle smile at the thought; she was bloody and battered and so exhausted she couldn't see straight, but wherever this man was, she was home.

"Shall I carry you to bed, my Lady?" Flint murmured against the shell of her ear.

Smiling, Jaye snorted weakly. "I wish. Duke would have my head on a stick if he even knew I let her come here instead of taking her straight to sick bay. I should have told her that if she wasn't out in ten I'd send him in after her."

Flint chuckled, the robust sound shaking them both. "And that's a punishment for which of them, exactly?"

Brow furrowing, Lady Jaye turned a puzzled expression up to him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His smile was one for a slow learner in a high school classroom. "Well, he and I spent the entire night buttonholing Breaker for sit reps. I know why I was worried and who I was worried about. What do you think his excuse was?"

Jaye wrinkled her nose, swatting at his shoulder. "Oh, grow up. We're all worried about Scarlett. This is the first time Snake Eyes has let her out of his sight since we left the city, and you know how he gets—he'd be tucking her in with bubble wrap tonight if he thought he could requisition enough bubble wrap on short notice. In fact, I'm surprised he hasn't shown up yet to sling her over his shoulder caveman-style and tote her down to sick bay himself."

Flint chuckled. "Thanks for the interesting mental picture."

Lady Jaye gave him a look. "I'm just being as silly as you are. Duke was just worried about us because he couldn't get us on the radio. Wild Bill and Quick Kick said as much."

"Wild Bill and Quick Kick weren't in the think tank with him breathing down their necks all night," was Flint's rebuttal. "Breaker and I were. He was worried, all right, and when Bill made that joke about Scarlett you could practically hear his blood pressure spike."

"You didn't see them during the debrief." Lady Jaye frowned. "I've seen Scarlett be friendlier getting a parking ticket. They weren't exactly blowing kisses at each other. He was angry when he heard she broke protocol, but he's furious that she didn't receive medical attention. If he finds her anywhere but sick bay in the next hour, he might just kill her himself and be done with it."

Flint only smiled. "You don't know Duke like I do. That's not anger—that's relief."

Lady Jaye could see that there was no talking Flint out of his theory. "Well, I'd be relieved if Scarlett would just get out here alre..." Lady Jaye trailed off. "Wait a minute. You and Duke were in the think tank all night?"

Flint shrugged, realizing his error. "In and out," he said dismissively, as if it were no big deal. "Duke was terrorizing Breaker for sit reps once your radios went dead, so I figured that was the place to stop in for an update."

Lady Jaye saw through him immediately—her steadfast tin soldier had been up all night waiting to hear if she were all right, and knowing him, he'd likely been tormenting Breaker even more than Duke had. Pulling him close, she rewarded him with a deep kiss, loving the low sound of appreciation he made as she slid a hand up to the back of his neck, fingertips playing with the short dark hair at his nape.

"You must be exhausted," she admonished gently.

"Nah." His smile was sweet. "Caught a catnap between your transmission and when you got here. I'm good."

"No." Lady Jaye shook her head slowly, unable to keep her smile out of her eyes. "You're great."

Flint bent his head again, his nose brushing against hers, his kiss gentle. She only allowed herself the sparest of seconds to enjoy it before pushing him away with a sigh. "You're supposed to be keeping me awake, not making me ready for bed," she teased gently, and she knew from the twinkle in his eye that he'd caught the double entendre. Reluctantly shrugging out of his arms, Lady Jaye struck the door with her heel a few times, raising her voice. "Hurry up, Scarlett. Don't make me come in there."

No answer from inside.

Scarlett smiled, vowing that she would never again take being clean for granted.

Tilting her face gratefully up to the warm spray, she bit down on a sigh of pleasure, ignoring the pain of her bruised lower lip. Here, out of her fatigues with the dirt and soot scrubbed from her body, it was easy to take stock of her injuries. One knee was blackening with a bruise, likely from the fall through the candy shop window, and her thighs, along with her arms and shoulders, were sore from climbing the jumplines. She'd been so eager to get the grime and dust off her skin that the cut on her upper arm had reopened from the rough handling, and the water swirling into the drain ran charcoal dark, pale gray, then finally tinged with pink as the blood flowed. She wished she had more time to luxuriate beneath the spray, but Lady Jaye was still waiting outside, and the corporal had had just as rough a time on the detail as she had and needed sleep badly. It wouldn't be fair to hold her up longer than necessary.

But oh, this felt good.

She closed her eyes and leaned against the shower wall, Duke's voice echoing in her memory. Spare a thought for them next time, all right?

Here, alone and quiet, it was easier for her to admit, even just to herself, that he had a point. She'd never doubted that Lady Jaye would watch her back throughout the detail, never worried that Snake Eyes wouldn't be waiting for her on the other side of a fire. They'd all been through a lot tonight, and she made a mental note to thank them for having her six as soon as they'd all had a chance to rest up. She'd start by getting out of the shower so poor Jaye could get to bed sometime before next week.

The redhead leaned over to rinse her hair one last time, enjoying how easily her fingers slipped through the now-clean locks. Whipping her hair back with a flick of her head, she reached to twist the tap and blinked in surprise when she stumbled, her hand hitting the wall a good five inches away from the tap. Her free hand shot out to steady her, and the shower stall swung like a pendulum, the world warping like a funhouse mirror.

Bracing her hands against the slick shower wall, Scarlett closed her eyes and waited for the world to right itself. As soon as she felt steady, she twisted the taps and carefully stepped out of the stall, drying off and dressing as quickly as possible. Her head was throbbing as she lifted her heavy, wet hair over the collar of her shirt, and the way the overhead light seemed to bounce painfully off the tiled wall wasn't helping, but she dismissed the sudden wave of dizziness as she prepared to reenter the corridor.

No big deal, she told herself. Just took a bad step. I'm O.K.

Of course. She was just tired, and the clouds of steam were messing with her sinuses and distorting the way things looked, that was all. That was why her head hurt, and why it was so hard to breathe. She just needed some sleep, and the only way she was getting any was to go down to sick bay. She would have preferred her own bed to one of the slender medical cots, but any port in a storm at this point.

A loud banging could be heard on the other side of the door—a foot, likely; Lade Jaye's voice sounded underwater and far away. "Hurry up, Scarlett. Don't make me come in there."

Coming, Scarlett responded—at least, she thought she did; maybe she only thought it. The hand that reached for the door seemed to be moving so slowly, curling her fingers around the metal handle a major effort. It took two tries to get a grip.

Tired, she told herself once more. I'm just tired. One minute, Jaye, I'll be right there...

Shaking her head to clear it, ignoring the pain the movement caused, she opened the door and stepped out into the corridor.

Lifeline had a tough row to hoe when it came to his military service—the field medic was a pacifist and abhorred violence of all kinds; he carried two handguns into the field because that was proper procedure for a soldier in his position, and kept them well-oiled and in good condition only on the grounds that he might one day have to use them in defense of civilians or his fellow Joes. Even his proficiency in Aikido was something he pursued only to disarm and subdue his opponents, not to harm them.

Still, every so often the temptation to misuse the techniques was felt even by the peaceful healer.

"What do you mean, she's not here?"

The field medic tilted his glasses at the master sergeant and commando who were currently darkening the doorway of his sick bay. Snake Eyes was looking around the tiled room as though expecting the object of his search to pop out from under one of the cots or something, and Duke's tone was as icy as his eyes; he practically bit the words off as he spoke for them both.

"Scarlett is not here," Lifeline repeated, his instincts prompting him to be concerned for their fellow Joe. "Should she be? I know she was on the street crime detail with you, Snake Eyes. Is she injured?"

Snake Eyes nodded, placing both hands at his throat in the universal symbol for choking.

"She was supposed to come here directly after debriefing," Duke explained further, shaking his head. "She was in a fire on the detail and she's been hacking up a lung ever since she got back on base."

"I haven't seen her all morning," Lifeline said, "but then again, I just came on about an hour ago. Maybe she's come and gone already? Doc was here before I was, but he's at the quartermaster's now, going over inventory. I can go and check with him if you like."

"No," Duke said immediately. "Snake and I can do that. I want you to stay right here in case she shows up, and she doesn't go anywhere until she's been medically cleared to, is that understood?"

"Yes sir," Lifeline said readily, moving briskly to prepare the nearest cot. "If she's having trouble breathing, why didn't she come in right aw—" He stopped asking the question as soon as he saw the murderous look on his C.O.'s face. "Er, I mean, I'll be standing by, Duke."

"Good. Get out a body bag, because I'm going to kill her," Duke growled before spinning on his heel and exiting the sick bay through the double doors that Snake Eyes was already opening.

Abruptly, the field medic was alone again, and he breathed out a small sigh of relief, but he had a feeling he'd just been in the eye of the hurricane.

Lady Jaye was just about to kick the bathroom door in when it swung open, releasing a cloud of steam and revealing a freshly scrubbed Scarlett. She stood in the doorway with the white clouds billowing around her and the harsh, automatic fluorescent lights of the bathroom bouncing off her at strange angles, and Jaye was reminded, oddly and not in a good way, of how she'd looked when she'd emerged from the burning warehouse, haloed in smoke and light.

Shaking the uncomfortable feeling away, she focused instead on feeling jealous of Scarlett—the redhead looked much happier, dressed in a pair of soft black cotton pants and one of the racer-backed shirts she usually worked out in. Her hair fell over her shoulders and down her back in shiny, wet clumps, spotting the olive green shirt with darker patches. Her upper arm was bleeding, and Lady Jaye remembered her pulling a shard of glass out of it before the street gang had taken them down in front of the candy shop. She'd probably reopened it trying to get it clean; they'd wrap it for her in sick bay. She stepped into the hallway, shaking her wet forelock off her face.

"Hey," Flint greeted cheerfully. "Ready to go, Red?"

Scarlett smiled. "Whether I am or not, Jaye's been more than fair about this. Sorry I took so long."

Lady Jaye felt better knowing they were in the home stretch—all that was left now was to escort her to sick bay and she could finally get some sleep. "No big deal. Come on, we should go."

Scarlett opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was another thick, painful-sounding cough. Flint let the redhead past him and brought up the rear. "I'll walk you ladies up, in case I need to carry Lady Jaye to bed."

"Ha, ha," Jaye chuckled dryly. "Thanks but no thanks, Flint. She should have been there half an hour ago, so we need to fly under the radar here or we'll risk getting busted."

Flint arched a brow, giving them a look of mock severity. "Are you saying I can't be discreet?" he asked, and Scarlett gave an especially short, sharp cough. Both the corporal and the warrant officer looked sharply at her, and she waved a hand apologetically in front of her throat as though indicating she couldn't help it, but Lady Jaye wasn't convinced. She didn't need to be fluent in ASL to know the universal sign for "bullshit".

"All right, Flint, if you insist on coming, then make yourself useful—keep an eye out. Scarlett was ordered to go straight to sick bay, and Duke's just looking for an excuse. If he catches us here with her, he'll court-martial the three of us."

"Now who's being silly?" Flint chuckled, but when they got out of the living quarters and passed the elevator bank which marked the center of the floor, he obediently went ahead to check out the corridor to the sick bay, giving Jaye a thumbs-up and returning to guard their backs. "You're good down to the next corner, and no one's coming down from the medical side as far as I can see. Although, it would help if Scarlett didn't give away our position," he joked.

Scarlett was once again slightly doubled over, one hand clutching at her chest and the other fist pressed to her mouth. She attempted to speak, but interrupted herself with another thick cough.

"Sorry," she finally managed to grate out.

"Jesus," Lady Jaye said as she offered Scarlett an arm and steered her forward. "I really should have taken you straight from debriefing. Come on, let's—"

The time it had taken for Scarlett to recover from her coughing fit had been enough time for the two Joes down the corridor to exit the sick bay and head towards the elevator bank, and rounding the corner caused Flint, Lady Jaye and Scarlett to walk right into them—Scarlett actually bounced off of Snake Eyes and ended up a few steps behind Lady Jaye and Flint, wheezing.

Duke and Snake Eyes seemed to fill the entire corridor, effectively blocking the way to the sick bay. Snake Eyes' arms were folded across his muscular chest; he seemed to loom over them like an unmovable sentinel. His thermals were still torn over his shoulder and shin, and blood had dried in patches on the exposed skin—he hadn't bothered to clean up before tracking Scarlett down, meaning he hadn't trusted Lady Jaye to keep her promise. This annoyed the corporal slightly—she hadn't broken her promise; Snake had said not to leave Scarlett alone until she'd gotten to sick bay, and Jaye hadn't; it had just taken them a little longer to get down here. Although, listening to Scarlett whoop in air behind them and realizing what time it was, she wasn't sure she could blame him entirely for looking ticked off.

For his part, Duke looked furious, strong jaw set as though he were about to conduct a frontal assault on a battalion of enemy soldiers instead of a couple of bedraggled Joes, and it was obvious the storm in his arctic eyes was about to break all over them. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and the veins that stood out in his muscular forearms bespoke the tension singing through them, as though if he didn't concentrate on leashing his anger, he'd smash his fist into the nearest flat surface. The sick bay was at the end of the corridor, and the only way was through the two men.

Not missing a beat, Flint murmured to Lady Jaye in a stage whisper, "Duke and Snake at twelve o'clock." She turned a withering look to him, resisting an urge to stomp his instep.

The corporal met the angry gaze and the ominous visor before her with a sigh. "Is it too late to go back to the city and deal with a few more street gangs?"

Snake Eyes made a mental note to yell at Lady Jaye later, even if it meant skipping the sign language entirely and writing her a very angry note in capital letters. Hadn't he told her to take Scarlett down to the sick bay over half an hour ago? She'd been on the damn detail, she'd seen what a bad way Scarlett was in. I should have taken her down myself, he thought angrily. My fault for being careless. Still, he'd have thought Jaye would have had more sense. He couldn't wait to hear the corporal's explanation—she'd better have had a hell of a good reason to wait this long, and it better not have had anything to do with the inexplicable presence of Flint.

The warrant officer, for his part, was standing off to the side; this wasn't his fight, and likely he wouldn't jump in unless someone lit into Lady Jaye—another good reason to wait and let the corporal have it later, on paper, in angry capitals. With a red pen, Snake Eyes decided as Duke threw the gauntlet. But it wasn't Lady Jaye or Flint the master sergeant targeted—his freezing glare was only for Scarlett.

"Are you deaf, O'Hara?" Duke growled, his voice huge in the enclosed space. "What did I just tell you?"

Lady Jaye set her jaw, ready to dig in if necessary, but Scarlett was nonplussed. "You said go to sick bay," the redhead protested, indicating the end of the corridor with a wave of her hand. "I'm going to sick bay right now."

"I said go directly to sick bay. What part of directly don't you understand?"

"I heard you, Duke. I just wanted to take a shower—"

"You ignored a direct order," Duke interrupted flatly. "If you hear me, Scarlett, then why don't you listen to me?" He stepped into her with one big boot, and that one movement would have made any greenshirt immediately step back. Scarlett, however, gave no ground.

"Are you seriously standing here ready to jam me up for taking a shower?" the redhead demanded, her strained voice sounding like she'd swallowed a razor blade. "What is your problem?"

What, indeed, Snake Eyes thought as all eyes, including his own, turned to the master sergeant. He wasn't about to argue when he was in agreement with his C.O.—the goal was to get Scarlett medical attention, and having the clout of the top kick behind that aim served the commando's interest as well—but ever since he'd lost his temper in debriefing, it seemed as though Duke was taking the whole insubordination thing rather personally.

"My problem, Scarlett, is that I gave an order and you ignored it," Duke said tersely. "I don't care how many times you say you're fine, if I order you to get a medical clearance, then damn it, you will get a medical clearance. I haven't got time to waste chasing you around."

Snake Eyes tilted his head at their C.O. once more. Again, he agreed with the statement—the master sergeant was right, and Scarlett was wrong—but Duke appeared to have forgotten that coming down here to check on Scarlett had been his idea and was instead acting like he'd been summoned. None of that made sense, either, but the commando filed it away to think on later, behind ensuring Scarlett was all right and procuring a red marker to let Lady Jaye know exactly how annoyed he was with her.

Scarlett's eyes were hazy with fatigue and anger. "No one t—" She coughed thickly. "—told you to chase me around. Either of you," she said, wheeling to glare at Snake Eyes. "What are you doing here? Don't you trust me either?"

This was a trap. The short answer was no, in this instance, he didn't—and had no reason to, since she clearly hadn't done what she'd been told. But if he said that, he'd be on the receiving end of the usual lecture about her capability and her ability to take care of herself, none of which was ever really in question unless she needed an excuse to argue with him. Snake Eyes' signs were forceful—he brushed a thumb against his chin and thrust it outward at the redhead, then bent his fingertips towards each other and tapped them together. {Not fair.}

"Don't tell me about fair," Scarlett declared heatedly. "The two of you have been ganging up on me all night. I can't decide whether to feel angry or flattered," she said, tilting her head arrogantly and striding right towards the two men, who moved aside for her. She continued down the corridor for a few feet, then turned to drawl her parting shot, her voice poisonously sweet. "After all, you came all the way down here just to see me."

Duke's voice was dangerous. "Scarlett, in thirty seconds, I'd better not be able to."

She narrowed her eyes. "Relax, Top Kick. I'm go—" She coughed, tried again. "I'm—"

Scarlett's oxygen-starved system had officially had enough. Her fair skin tinted pink with strain, and one hand fluttered up, hovering uncertainly between her heart and her lips as she tried to draw breath and couldn't. A look of confusion flickered briefly across her face, and she shuddered, once, twice as she attempted again to pull air into her lungs. She swayed for a space of seconds before her expression melted into a totally alien look of surprise and helplessness, and she listed to the side, the hand that had been at her heart reaching out, dreamlike, as her legs crumpled beneath her.

Snake Eyes' thermals had been ripped over his shoulder when Pilar Vasquez had tackled him to the train tracks; Scarlett's blindly clutching hand hooked into the hole in the garment when she collapsed, her weight tearing the fabric further down his arm before she landed heavily in Duke's lap, having knocked the master sergeant to the floor.

Author's Notes:

She's Too Much: It's my schtick, and has been for years, to open my chapters with a lyric or a poem. In this case, I didn't mean to use two Duran Duran songs in a row (being a child of the 80s, I'm a huge fan of Duran Duran—just saw them in concert last fall and they are amazing) but I couldn't help myself. She's Too Much is actually about Simon LeBon's daughter, but it's a song that always makes me feel happy.

The Cobra Pogo Ball: One of this redhead's favorite things to do is read pop culture articles at Cracked dot com. One of my personal favorites is in fact with regard to G.I. Joe—specifically, "The 20 Stupidest G.I. Joe Vehicles Ever". The Cobra Pogo Ball, in my own humble opinion, should rank #1 in the "More Dangerous to the Pilot" category—the caption simply (and astutely) reads, "Oh for crying out loud. This is going to get someone killed."

"I don't give a Van Damme": Lady Jaye can't possibly be referring to my favorite Jean-Claude Van Damme film, in which Van Damme's character fools an MP by asking to take a shower and then goes AWOL in order to enter the illegal underground Kumite tournament in Hong Kong. *winks* I mean, that'd be anachronistic—Bloodsport wasn't released until 1988.

On living quarters: There are quite a few designs for the Pit (since it's been destroyed and rebuilt a number of times). For this fic, I used the blueprint in Marvel G.I. Joe #22, which abstractly defines that sick bay and living quarters are on the same floor. It's a modern liberty I've taken here by giving Scarlett and Lady Jaye private rooms with a shared bathroom—this is what most modern military installations do as opposed to using barracks, and being female and thus in the minority on the team, it made sense to do this rather than have shared quarters. Again, just a liberty; if there's a problem with that, please feel free to take it up with my associate here *smiles and points to three-foot plush wolf*.

The Steadfast Tin Soldier is one of my favorite fairy tales—Hans Christian Andersen wrote about the titular soldier with one leg, who loved the ballerina on pointe with the spangle on her sash. It's been interpreted lots of different ways, from animation to ballet to opera, but the meaning remains the same—loyalty is so underrated and so very important, no matter who you fall in love with.

Next chapter: Scarlett finally makes it to sick bay…unfortunately, not the way her comrades had in mind.