Just a quick pre-note, we're slowing down uploads for the time being. We're about five chapters ahead and progress is starting to slow down a bit (my fault, real life is being quite a prick right now), but we shan't be stopping anytime soon.

- TSO

If looks could kill, the death glares that were aimed at both Shade and Dash would be comparable to setting them both alight and then dumping the ashes into pure hydrochloric acid. Yet, the pair of them were unfazed as they sat at the end of the table, casually discussing the day's plans while the other eight men present were all nursing hangovers and headaches from their rude awakening.

"Y'know, I almost feel sorry for them," Shade said as he took a look at them, shaking his head slightly, "emphasis on the 'almost'."

Dash laughed, "I don't, I warned them about the hangovers," she shook her head, "Lord knows if I ever got that drunk shit would go down if they decided to prank me like this."

He laughed in agreement, "Oh, we had a number of various prank wars during our downtime back in the Commandos, both at home and while deployed. Everything from the benign to the downright nastiest shit. Can't wait to see what it's like here…"

Dash shook her head, "You better be prepared, the other teams on base get involved, it's not pretty. You'd think Archer would be the one to stay away from that mess, but no, oh no, he's the mastermind."

"Archer… Archer… he's that sniper, right?" Shade asked curiously, sipping his coffee slowly. "I think I saw him once or twice on my second day. Irish accent?"

She nodded, "Real gruff looking and quiet? Yeah, you've probably seen him and his spotter, Toad, on the range."

"Nah," Shade dismissed, "met him in the armoury when Meat and Royce were giving me some grief about this bloody 'Crucible' PT shit that Ghost does at random. I called their bluff and asked some rando, who was Archer I guess, about it and he confirmed it."

Dash laughed, "Oh, the Crucible is real alright. He usually reserves it for the especially bad weekends, punishment for prank wars gone too far, y'know, the stuff that needs a little something… extra… but we've all done it at least once."

The door to the mess hall swung open violently, and as if summoned, Ghost strode in. Even through his mask you could tell that he had a wide smile on his face, due to the way the skull's mouth was slightly stretched. "Goood morning ladies!"

Shade stared at him before turning to look at Dash in slight horror, "I guess now is one of those moments where he breaks it out?"

Dash shrugged, "We'll find out soon enough," she chuckled evilly, "It's their own damn fault for over-indulging anyway."

"I hope every one of you bastards is well-rested and ready to go, because it's time for our favourite part of the day!" Ghost clapped his hands together loudly, to the dismay of some of the men. "You all have ten minutes to get changed into your PT gear and meet out on the track. There's no better cure than a bit of exercise, I always say!"

Shade stood up to start putting his things away when he was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulders, "Except for you, Shade. I know you had somewhat decent intentions, but there is no excuse for setting off a live flashbang grenade outside of the training ranges…" Ghost stood back from him with his hands on his hips, "As such, I want you in your full battle kit and full ammo loud, complete with weapons and attachments, out on the track in twenty. Dash, you too. As the higher ranking NCO, I would have expected you to know the safety regulations and have prevented such an act taking place."

"Sorry, LT, docs still have us on restricted duty for another week…" Dash shrugged, "Much as I fuckin' hate it…."

"Ah, right…" Ghost paused for a moment, thinking of a way he could punish the two soldiers in front of him. "Well, in that case, I still want you in PT gear but only doing light exercises. Expect to be hammered once you're cleared fit though, understood?"

"Sir." Shade nodded in affirmation, before Ghost leant in close to say something to them quietly.

"Aye, sir," Dash nodded as well, "Will be a good way to get back in the saddle."

"Good, however I will give you points for creativity. The only reason I'm bollocking the pair of you is that the Warrant Officer in charge of Health and Safety of the base saw the incident, and wanted me to address it with you." Ghost near-whispered with a chuckle. "And Shade, I need to see what exactly you had in that walkman of yours. That terrorist you guys were responsible for in Mexico was extremely cooperative."

"I'll be sure to leave you a copy on your desk in the next few days, sir." Shade said with a smirk, sharing a knowing glance with Dash. "I just advise that you listen to it in short bursts on low volume."

"Duly noted… carry on you two," The lieutenant said before turning around to parade the straggling hungover soldiers to their feet and out of the mess.

"Why does it feel like we've just dodged a bloody bullet?" Shade asked Dash with a relieved sigh.

Dash chuckled, "Because we have, the worst Crucible is the one you're not prepared for. At least now we know it's coming."

"That said, if I were him and let someone know they were facing a hard thing such as that, I'd make it much harder than they'd expect. Like pulling a fully loaded Humvee or some shit like that, with full combat gear on." Shade said as they started making their way from the mess.

Dash thumped his chest lightly, "Quiet! Don't give him any ideas…"

He rose his hands defensively, "Hey now, I'm just saying, we should prepare for what's worse than the worst. No harm in that, right?"

Dash shrugged, but shook her head, "The LT has ears everywhere Shades, I wouldn't be surprised to see a fully decked out Humvee come Crucible time…"

"... you know, you weren't kidding." Shade said simply as he and Dash sat on a bench near the training field where Ghost, the rest of the men, and a fully up-armoured Humvee gun-truck was parked. "Unless this is just one massive fucking coincidence, in which case, just wow." From the body language of the men, as they were too far out to hear the conversation, the PT session was going to suck majorly for them.

Dash sighed, "I doubt there's any coincidence about it…" she shrugged, "To be fair, we kind of deserve it, that prank was magnificently evil… Still worth it..."

"A similar thing happened to me back home, which is where I got the idea from. Though, I was in the group it happened to, and substitute the flashbang for a smoke grenade." Shade grimaced, "that shit's nasty; kinda like tear gas but heavier. And being inside, it traps it in, the residue is hard to wash out, and it set off the fire alarms so we all got soaked by the sprinkler system."

Dash chuckled, "This is gonna be fun…"

"Yeah, though we better start doing shit ourselves too, so it doesn't look like we're just watching. Walk a couple of laps, warm up a bit?" Shade said as he stood up from the bench with a small grunt, watching as the men retrieved a few heavy ropes from the back of the Humvee and started attaching them through the tow-points in the front.

Dash stood up and stretched, "Yeah, gettin' stiff just sittin' around all day… a light jog'll be nice."

Shade quirked an eyebrow at her, then gestured to his stitched up leg, "Hey now, some of us can't jog around just yet."

Dash shrugged, "I can't just settle for a walk!" she argued, "I've got a need for speed… And a reputation to keep."

"And I want to be able to talk consistently, not share a few words every time you lap me," Shade countered, "also, way to sound like every cliche-breathing fighter pilot ever."

Dash laughed and shrugged, "What's there to talk about?"

"We never finished our Q and A from the other day," Shade suggested with a shrug as they began their walk on the track, "after all, the mission did kinda interrupt us…"

"Oh fine," Dash relented leading off at a walk with her hands in her pockets, "What you wanna know?"

"If memory serves me right, it was your turn to ask questions before we were rudely disturbed," he chuckled, his limp starting to fade as his legs started to warm up from the movement.

Dash shrugged and was quiet for a moment while she thought of a question, "Why'd you enlist? I already told you my reason."

Shade smiled in understanding, "Well, I joined a year after graduating high school. I didn't have have prospects to go onto further study, and I gave full time work a shot but didn't really enjoy it. I figured I'd give the Air Force a shot at first, but they knocked me back as they didn't have a need for the job area I wanted," he chuckled, then shot a sidelong glance at Dash, "they already had enough airfield defence guards as it were. Anyway, they recommended the Army and said that I had a few traits of a Commando, and sent me through that pipeline. Took to it like a duck to water, and after a year of being in a regular Army infantry unit, I applied for Commando selection and the rest is history."

Dash nodded thoughtfully, "I wanted to fly when I first went about enlisting, always had my head in the clouds growing up. My eyes weren't good enough though, so…" she shrugged, "That fell through and now I'm here."

"Rotor wing or fast air?" Shade prompted, curious to know a little more.

"Woulda been fine with either," she shrugged again, "but, like I said, I have need for speed," she grinned, "Fast air was what I really wanted, so it stung when I was told I couldn't because my eyesight wasn't twenty-twenty."

Shade chuckled, "Could only imagine what the reaction'd be to hearing your voice on the radio when someone's calling in for close air support. 'Hey dude, not only have we got a bomb coming in, but the pilot's a chick! And she sounds hot too!' You'd get no respite, as much as I'd hate to admit it, D."

Dash laughed, "Wouldn't have minded too much, I don't think, but Gs and glasses don't mix well, so that was out…"

"Yeah, fair enough," Shade agreed, "plus I don't think it'd be that comfortable wearing them under a flight helmet under normal circumstances anyway."

Dash shook her head, "No, no I really doubt that'd be comfortable."

Meat was ready to pass out, the only thing keeping him barely awake was the thought of getting back at Shade and Dash. He was channelling that rage into strength, which everyone else was doing to help them pull the heavy Humvee across the field from one end to the other. It didn't help that Ghost was sitting behind the wheel and would step on the brake at random intervals.

"Fuck… this… horse… shit…" Royce grunted out from behind him, sharing the pain, "fuck… this… fuck… Ghost… fuck… them…. fuck… everything!"

"Almost there!" Ozone called from up front, the Humvee now less than ten meters away from the end of the track. The men surged forward, and with less than a meter to go, Ghost hit the brake once more. The sudden stop made the eight men collapse where they stood, and they all lay there panting and groaning as Ghost made his way from the driver's seat to the middle of their impromptu pile.

"Okay men, I think that'll do. I hope you're all feeling much better now that you've burned off the remaining booze in your systems. You're lucky that nothing else has been scheduled for the remainder of the day, so take your time to rest and recover." He said smugly as he began to unhitch the rope from the front of the Humvee and stowed it away. "Have a nice day!" He called as he started the engine and blasted the horn before backing it up and driving it away.

"I swear… if I ever get my hands on his mask… I'm going to burn it. Slowly. In front of him." Rook groaned out, face first in the grass.

"Get in fucking line…" Scarecrow moaned from his place next to Rook.

Chemo slowly sat up from his place and looked towards Shade and Dash, who were walking slowly and casually around the track at the other end. "Forget the lieutenant, we need to fuck with those two assholes instead."

"I've got a few ideas…" Meat said as he too started to collect himself, "... rec room in an hour, or two, we'll start planning our retaliation there."

Dash was practically tearing her room apart. She couldn't find the pin anywhere, it was supposed to be on her nightstand, where she left it every night after taking it out of her pocket. It was a US Navy insignia that had belonged to her grandfather, the device that had once upon a time been attached to a dress uniform cover. Dash kept it as a memento of her grandfather, now that he was gone, and now the pin was missing. She tossed aside some clothes she'd thrown to the floor in her search and picked up the MP3 she found there. Scrolling through it's contents, she frowned in finding that it was Shade's. He had copies of those damn torture playlists on it… What was Shade doing in her room? He wouldn't have stolen her pin… So how'd his MP3 player end up there?

She pocketed the player and left her room, making a point of locking it behind her before heading towards his room. As she approached, she could hear a series of frustrated yells over a song that was playing loudly. "... cause I'm trip hop, all the way to hip hop. I get so plastered, you think I'm drinkin' gypock. But I'm shit hot, no matter how you look at it, and my lyrics make you want read the book-a-lit. Go. Cause' I'm cooking it right like the iron chef. That's why I'm deaf, now to the high clef! FIGJAM!"

Dash stood against the open doorway as she watched the Aussie dig for something under his bunk, before crawling back out with a muffled curse. He rubbed his head and glanced at the door, double taking when he saw her standing there. "Oh, bout time you bloody showed your face. Where the fuck is it, huh?"

"Could ask you the same thing," She responded, tossing him his MP3 player, "You have my pin then?"

He caught the MP3 player with confusion, "... pin? What pin? And I've never seen this before in my life…" He said, tossing it back to her before standing up to look in his desk drawers. "Though if you have any intel on where my damn drop-thigh SERPA holster is, that'd be great."

Dash groaned in frustration, "My Navy insignia device is missing, belonged to my grandfather," she said quickly, turning around, "Don't know what it is you've lost, but I'm gonna go find my pin."

He slammed the drawers shut in frustration. "It's the holster I used in Mexico for my Glock, had in my room to fiddle with it a bit." He caught up to her and sighed. "I was hoping to adjust it and make it a little less stiff to draw from… what's this pin look like exactly?"

"Gold, silver lettering says U.S.N on it," she answered, "Screw and disk pin on the back."

"Yikes… and it's a small thing, ain't it… know where you last saw it?" Shade asked, his eyes now scanning the ground as they walked through the hall.

"My nightstand," Dash answered, frowning and looking ahead, "Someone must've come in my room last night and taken it, because it's gone. What about your holster?"

"Sitting on my desk, with thigh panel and the actual holster part separated," Shade grumbled, "They took the screws too, so I hope to god they haven't lost anything from it."

Dash hummed thoughtfully, "All things considered… might be Meat and the boys taking their revenge…"

Shade stopped walking as it clicked into place. "... well… guess it's hunting season then…"

"Damn straight," Dash agreed, "He can prank me all he wants, but no one messes with my pin."

"Last I recall, Meat's room is two down from mine…" Shade started, turning around to head towards his new destination, "Hey, do you know if the mess has some spare sour cream or stuff like that at all?"

Dash shrugged, "Maybe?"

"Mind dashing down there and checking it out? If they do, grab a container and bring it down here…" Shade asked as he stopped outside of Meat's room, pressing an ear against it to make sure it was empty. He tested the handle and found it unlocked. "Tsk tsk, Meat… you don' fucked up…"

"He fucked up when he decided his target was my pin," Dash commented, jogging past and heading for the Mess Hall.

On her way out of Charlie building, she came across Royce and Ozone, she glared at each as they passed.

"Mornin' Dash," Ozone said as he approached, looking a little less like death warmed up, "hey, you alright?"

She whirled on them, but didn't plan on sticking around long, "I know what you lot are up to…" she hissed, then turned and stalked off. She could hear Ozone turn to look at Royce and say a muffled 'the fuck did you do…' before continuing on into the mess hall.

Meat looked up from his meal and coffee with an expression of mock-surprise. "Oh, Ms Dash… I've been expecting you…"

Dash snarled at him, "Where is it Meathead…"

"By, whatever could you mean?" He said with an 'innocent' tone, before pulling his phone out of his pocket and setting it down on the table top. On the screen was a picture of the pin in question, next to a disassembled SERPA holster, with a copy of the day's newspaper in the shot below it. "Would it be this pin, perchance?"

She glared at him, "Meat, you ought to know by now that my pin is off-limits."

Meat barked a laugh at her, leaning back and taking the phone back from the table, "Ha! Off-limits went out the window when you and that goddamn Aussie practically blew us up this morning! We were suffering enough as it was, and Ghost's little training exercise was already torture enough," he stood up and leant forwards into her face with what could be defined as 'rage', "you don't understand just how much pain I was in after that little fucking stunt you pulled."

Dash matched his glare, "I warned you about the hangover… It's your own fault for over-indulging."

"Doesn't matter. You aren't getting your pin back, and your little bitch Shade isn't getting his holster back until I've decided that you've both paid for your crimes," he said smugly, sitting back down, "and before you start thinking about recovering it yourself, both items are constantly on the move. Even I don't know where they are, and if you try to coerce myself or someone else for them, then I can't be held responsible for what will happen to them…"

"We'll see about that…" Dash hissed, moving off to go find the sour cream, wondering as she collected the container what Shade was planning to do with it. Meat saw her with the container in hand, and called out to her.

"What's the cream for? To soothe your busted egos?" He teased.

"No," she responded, "Shade and I are makin' minced meat tacos…" The low chuckle she let out had Meat suddenly feeling on edge, and he watched in silence as she left the building. Dash made it back to Meat's room uninterrupted, where she found Shade in the middle of stripping off Meat's bunk. A bunch of uniforms and some of Meat's boots were also scattered around.

"Have any issues?" he asked as he finished up with the sheets, the bare mattress now exposed to the air.

"Meat was in the mess," Dash answered, handing over the container, "they have our things, said that they're constantly on the move, and if we try to get someone to tell us where they are they're gonna do something to them… If I know Meat, telling us they're on the move is his attempt at getting us to try to strategize a search and waste time while they're actually in one place."

Shade took the container and popped the lid, then squatted down to start pouring a small amount into one boot of each pair that Meat had, alternating between the left and right for each. "Uh huh… so that just narrows it down to practically nowhere… he acting alone or do you think he's got help?"

Dash shook her head, "He got a text picture of our stuff, and said that he doesn't even know where it is at any given moment. I think it's a whole web of them," she grinned, "Remember how I told you Archer is a mastermind?"

"That I do… reckon he's involved yet or not?" Shade asked, finished with the boots and giving the affected ones a little shake to spread the cream around a bit. He then stood up and started pouring the cream across Meat's mattress, careful to do long and continuous strings and not have it end up as one big blob. "Because we might be able to recruit him into our cause."

Dash nodded, "He has a personal rule about messing with people's gear and sentimental things. He's not involved with Meat."

"Good to know, hold this for a second." He said, handing Dash the container before starting to carefully remake Meat's bed. "As far as our team's concerned though, and baring the officers, all eight of them have motive enough to get us. Meat's made the first move, that we know of at least, and it's a safe bet to assume that Royce is with him as well. That makes two active players…"

Dash took the container and simply stood there waiting for Shade to finish, "I don't think it'd be just the two of them either, if it was just the two of them they wouldn't try it, they'd want a better advantage, four at least."

"I don't think Rook's involved, he made his feelings about me quite clear this morning after we did it. Just not sure about the others…" Shade said, stepping back to admire his work. "He won't know until he gets into it, which could be anywhere between the next ten minutes to much later tonight…."

Dash nodded, "I don't know about Ozone either, he seemed pretty clueless when I passed him and Royce on the way out. So what's the plan? There's no telling where they've hidden our stuff..."

"Hmm… I've got a plan."

Scarecrow sat on the couch in the rec room, reading a novel that he'd been attempting to finish over the last few months. This was one of the first times he'd had in a couple of weeks to actually sit down and pick up the story where he last left it. At least, that was until he felt a weight sit down on the couch beside him.

"'Sup 'Crow," Shade said simply as he picked up the remote and flipped the TV on, flipping through random channels as he shifted a little to settle in.

"Shade…" Scarecrow said in reply, acknowledging the soldier before trying to get back into his book.

"Can't believe there's anything good on… five thousand-odd channels, and absolute garbage."

Scarecrow sighed, already resigned to the fact that his peace and quiet was now permanently disturbed, "Yes… that is a shame…"

"I said this to Dash the other day, you'd think they'd shout us Netflix or something like that, but nope." Shade stated simply, stretching out and resting his feet on the coffee table with a loud 'clunk'.

"I don't think home entertainment is a priority here…"

"Fair point," Shade agreed, "otherwise we'd never want to leave and go on missions… still sucks balls though." The Australian remained quiet, finally finding a channel that he wanted to watch. Scarecrow waited until he felt he was safe, then picked his book back up.

"Hey Scarecrow, hey Shades," Dash greeted as she walked in, Scarecrow biting back a frustrated groan as she sat down on his other side. He rolled his eyes, starting to consider leaving to find another place to read, "what's on?"

"Jack and shit," Shade said with a sigh, changing the channel yet again, "'Crows being a conversationalist as normal, too."

"Yeah? Watch'ya readin'?" Dash asked curiously, peeking at the book.

"... Final Flight, by Stephen Coonts…" Scarecrow responded carefully, now eyeing Dash curiously.

"Oh? I read that a while back!" Shade jumped in, looking towards them, "I enjoyed it, you'd like it too Dash. 'Bout F-14 pilots in the US Navy…" he trailed off.

"Never read it," Dash shrugged, sitting back, "Don't get much time to read 'round these parts, probably won't even get to it. It's whatever, though, I suppose, maybe one day."

"Endin's pretty sad, if you ask me. The main guy, Grafton or something, his vision's failin-"

"Nope!" Scarecrow said loudly, slamming the book shut and rounding at Shade to glare at him. "You don't say a word! I've been waiting for god-knows how long to finish this, and the last thing I want is you spoiling it for me!"

"I won't, I won't… if you help us, that is." Shade smirked, leaning in close to him.

"... with what?" Scarecrow prompted, putting the book on the table and looking at both Shade and Dash, their expressions putting him on guard. "... wait, what did Meat do?"

"He, and whoever he's involved with, stole something from the two of us, and we need help getting it back," Dash answered, sitting back comfortably.

"Oh, oh no. Hell to the no," Scarecrow started shaking his head, getting up from the couch and backing away, "I'm not involved, and I'm not getting involved. I'm invoking the Switzerland clause, okay?"

"'Switzerland clause'?" Shade asked, confused.

Dash sighed, "Basically, he's declaring himself a neutral party and effectively untouchable. He can't be targeted, on the proviso that he doesn't help or assist in any manner at all."

Shade frowned, "Bugger… well, at least we can rule him out." He said, pulling a small notepad from his pocket to cross Scarecrow's name off a small list. "Who's next, Chemo?"

Dash shrugged, "He's the only person in medical who has gotten involved in previous wars like this. The rest of 'em go Switzerland, like Scaredy-crow here."

"But he also looked like a damn zombie this morning, too, for someone with access to all of the aspirin and shit," Shade contested. "Let's check him out, just to be safe."

Author's Notes

(Spitfire)

The prank war begins and the Crucible is on the horizon. However that horizon is very far away, we have a prank war to fight first heh. Dash is Not Happy™ about having her pin stolen, and someone is gonna get their asses kicked when she gets it back. In the meantime, she and Shade are after some revenge. So. That'll be fun. I am admittedly not the best at planning pranks and stuff, so that'll be on my writing buddy here xD (strap yourselves in!) See ya next time!

Thanks for Reading, Fly High Aim Higher

~Spitfire out

(Shade)

The quote "I hope you realise that this means war" could not be more apt for this coming set of chapters, a "prank war arc" if you will. Shade's more annoyed that they're messing with his gear, but us being upset on Dash's behalf since it's her smaller but more sentimental item that's at risk. So far, for those keeping score: Meat and Royce are the prime suspects, Ozone, Rook and Scarecrow are no factor. That leaves Roach, Chemo, Robot as unknowns. Let's see what happens.