He couldn't get her out of his mind. Granted, the outfit she had worn as the waitress had been sexy as hell. He had been amazed at the transformation from the short brown haired baggy look to voluptuous woman with legs that went on for miles. The term sexpot lingered in his mind again. He wondered if the belly ring was permanent, or just part of her cover.

Still, he found he preferred the relaxed, natural look of her he had seen tonight. Well, minus the temper. Still, when she was angry, those green eyes flashed and he had to admit, he enjoyed watching the passion behind it. Just once, though, he'd love that thousand watt smile he'd glimpsed before to focus on him instead of just on the others. With him, she never seemed to have more than a polite smile or nod of the head.

He didn't know why he was so obsessed with her. She wasn't even his type! He liked long hair on a woman, legs that went on for miles, as well as a cultured attitude. A woman he could have intelligent conversations with, but have a good time in bed with as well! He was more attracted to types like Scarlett, for god sakes! Not that he would touch Scarlett with a ten-foot pole. Granted, he had tried flirting with her when he had first joined GI Joe, but she had quickly set him straight. Well, that and her ninja boyfriend had. How was he to know? he chuckled, thinking back on it.

No, Lady Jaye was definitely not his type…so why was he still thinking about her? Punching his pillow, he rolled over, determined to get her out of his mind. He had other things to worry about than some woman with a cute, upturned nose with just a hint of freckles on it. He wondered if the passion he'd glimpsed with her temper would transfer over to the bedroom…..Cursing, he punched the pillow again and started reciting Keats that he had memorized from his collegiate days, until his tired mind would finally let him drift off to sleep.

Next Door…

What had possessed her to say that to him? She knew what a straight-laced individual he was. To imply he had to be suspicious of everyone….what had she been thinking? Just because her past was full of deceit and lies didn't mean she had to poison his mind against his own teammates. Geeze, no wonder he was so suspicious of her! She wasn't doing her best to reassure him that she was on his side. Of course, her own secrets that she had hidden from all the Joes but Hawk didn't help, either.

She had thought showing him her new device, and how to work it, would help, but of course, he had to ask where she had gotten it from. She was sure if she had told him MARS, he would immediately peg her for a Cobra spy. Damn Destro for bringing her family's business into the terrorist world! Granted, her cousins had taken care of it once they learned of it, but it didn't stop her uncle from using the resources he had available through MARS. Her family had a lot of rebuilding and networking to repair their reputation.

Well, at least he didn't try to hit on her, she reasoned. Every other assignment she had, some jackass would think she was some sort of challenge. Sure, she liked to have a good time now and then, but she had her limits. She had spent too long in her male cousins' company growing up, and was able to hold her own, whether it was drinking or brawling. Most of these "admirers" came to realize that pretty quickly and backed off. She had learned long ago to keep men like that at a distance.

She guessed some saw her as possessing a tough exterior shell, and it was their job to romance her out of it. Bullshit. The shell had grown from years of betrayal and manipulation, and she was thankful of her acting ability that usually hid the hurt little girl that she was sure still existed somewhere inside her. Not that her childhood hadn't been happy….well, when she had been with her Dad, in Scotland, she had been in heaven. Her mother was a completely different universe.

She punched her pillow, angry at where her train of thought had drifted to. She didn't want to think of her mother, of her rebellion to being the perfect society daughter, of explosions, betrayal, and heartache.

She got up and padded over to the window, looking out beyond the curtains. The city that never sleeps. Or was that New York? Either way, it didn't look like either shut down at any time of night. She sighed, leaning her forehead against the cool glass.

It would be another sleepless night. She knew the nightmare would come, based on her train of thought, and rather than deal with it, she'd rather just be tired tomorrow. Her shift wouldn't start until early evening. She would help Scarlett research land grants in Atlantic City on the laptop the redhead had brought, and in a few days time, if it was even that long, they'd be heading in that direction. She was pretty sure Hawk would keep the same team. Then again, she shrugged, maybe not. Who was she to predict what her CO would do?

Sighing, she got dressed and, figuring she was in a casino after all, she'd head downstairs to the floor. It would be a hell lot more interesting than seeing what was on TV.

She moved silently through the suite, careful not to wake Scarlett. She left a quick note, should her teammate wake, and made sure to put a watch on. Casinos were notorious for not having clocks so that people would lose track of time and let their money keep pouring out of their wallets.

Wandering around the casino floor, she smiled when she found the animated slot machine that showed an ancient castle on its screen. Granted, it was Irish, not Scottish, but she figured it was close enough. She trailed her finger along the top, suddenly feeling homesick. Slipping her card into the slot, she watched the images scroll by. She began to get into the rhythm of the game, seeming to keep to an equal amount of winning and losing.

She managed to break even and removed her card, turning to get up when she suddenly saw him behind her.

"I didn't really peg you for a gambler," he said with a friendly smile.

She regarded Flint silently. "Couldn't sleep," she finally said in way of explanation. "Figured while we were here, I'd try my luck." Damn. Of all the people to run into.

He hadn't noticed the lilt in her voice before, her English accented with….he wasn't sure what culture. It wasn't British. He glanced at the game she had been playing. Irish? He was curious and made a mental note to check her file when they returned to base, to find out. He wouldn't mind learning more about her, now that she was officially a member of GI Joe.

"So, why are you here?" she asked him.

He smiled sheepishly. "Same thing – couldn't sleep." He held his card up between his fingers. "Was thinking along the same lines."

"I never pegged you as a gambler," she repeated his words, smiling. She figured he'd be too uptight for that, but didn't voice that thought. "Personally, I like the old one armed bandits, but this one caught my eye," she told him. "Unless you're more of a Blackjack guy."

"I could go for Blackjack," he told her, wondering if she was as lucky with that as she was with slots. He had been watching her for some time, and was amazed she had ended up even. He had known friends and family that had literally poured hundreds of dollars into the machines with visits to Vegas and Reno, all to come home with nothing but a good story.

She led the way to the tables, and they settled into adjoining seats. After a few rounds, she had to admit, he wasn't bad company. The few jokes and comments he made were actually funny and had a way of making her feel more relaxed. She was actually beginning to enjoy herself in his company, she realized.

His hand brushed hers as he moved his chips later at the roulette table, and she was surprised at the little jolt she felt. Mentally, she shook her head. Allie, Allie, she admonished herself. Haven't you learned not to date your coworkers? She regarded him through lowered lashes, noticing he had a peculiar expression on his face. This guy was so not her type, anyway!

Brushing her hand had been accidental, but he found he wanted to do it again. The little jolt he felt had been a surprise, but a pleasant one. She intrigued him, with her cryptic messages of betrayal, her insight, and her secrets. He felt she was like a book, with each page a different story that he wanted to explore.

She glanced at her watch, breaking his spell. "The others will be getting up soon," she told him, gathering up her chips. The dealer credited them to her card, doing the same for Flint's, and she headed in the direction of the elevators.

"Don't you want to cash in?" he asked her.

She smiled, almost as if he were a little dense, he thought.

"Nah. I like to keep the balance on there. Keeps me humble," she chuckled, "and this particular place has chains all over the world. I'll wait if you want to do so. I doubt you get to Vegas much."

He frowned. "What makes you think that?"

She shrugged. "Call it a guess. I can't see you throwing away your money. You don't seem the type."

He had to admit, she was right. It irked him that she judged him so easily, though.

He led the way to the elevators, ignoring her smirk as she followed him.