"How's it going in here?" Duke asked the next afternoon as he walked into the conference room. "Is your presentation all ready to go?"

Scarlett exhaled sharply. "If you had arrived an hour ago, you could have seen it. We just finished a dry run."

"I'm sorry. But I did have other business I needed to attend to. How did they do?" Duke asked Flint.

"They're fine. They're very professional and knowledgeable and provide all the information in a clear and concise manner. But I don't think the report bodes well for the Joe team."

"It's that bad?" Duke asked. "What's the bottom line?"

"We're going to do our best to spin all of this in a positive light, but you don't have to be an economics major to see that the numbers are not in our favor," Lady Jaye answered. "This is the cliff notes version of what we'll be presenting."

"Just look at the payroll alone," Scarlett added. "You could justify it when we had proof that we were helping America sleep soundly at night. But now? I don't blame the budget committee for getting antsy."

Duke flipped through the report. He asked a few more questions that Scarlett and Lady Jaye answered. Once he was satisfied he put the report down. "Okay, before we all totally panic and start polishing up our resumes, let's calm down for a minute. Is there anyone here in this room that truly thinks Cobra is dead and gone?"

"No," the three of them said in near unison.

Duke nodded. "So we just need to figure out a way to convey that threat to the committee."

Scarlett glared at him. "No kidding. What do you think Jaye and I have been trying to do the last few days? But we can't go in there with nothing more than a gut feeling."

Lady Jaye eyed Scarlett to make sure she wasn't going to totally lose her cool. The redhead was obviously upset with Duke, but she seemed to be holding it together. Lady Jaye flipped open the report to one of the slides. "Page eight highlights our most educated guesses to the current whereabouts of the main players of Cobra. We verbally list some of the minor members as well. We've gone back and forth on whether to expand on it, but it seemed like we were grasping at straws."

Duke looked it over for a moment and then consulted their notes. "I think the way you present it is the right call. It's also a good idea to make the list of non-Cobra threats we faced."

Lady Jaye nodded. "Scarlett will also make a point about the increased threat of copycat attacks as well."

"We're basically throwing a whole lot of information at them, in the hope that something resonates in their mind," Scarlett said. "It's our Hail Mary pass to save the Joe team."

Duke went quiet as he skimmed through the report again. Lady Jaye looked around the room. It was fitting that in the end when they were discussing the demise of the Joe team that it was only the four of them gathered together.

She then focused on Flint, who had stayed surprisingly quiet throughout the conversation. Looking back over the day, Lady Jaye realized that he had barely said anything since the abrupt end of their dinner conversation the previous night. For the first time in months, if not years, Lady Jaye had no idea what was going through his head. She once again had a longing for the pre-Bradshaw days when they would have been free to turn to each other to work through their concerns, worries and doubts.

However, she couldn't linger too long on her personal problems. Duke looked at his watch. "It looks like you've done all you could. Take a short break. General Bradshaw is wrapping up a few things, and I think you're ready to present the final draft to him. But regardless of what the outcome in DC is, keep the doom and gloom thoughts to ourselves. I don't want the rest of the team getting wind of our fears until there is something concrete for them to worry about. And look, we've been through this before, so I think fearing the worst is a bit premature."

Lady Jaye nodded as she stood. She needed the break. She almost felt as bad physically as she did mentally. Once again they had worked through lunch, which was fine since she was too queasy to eat a meal. But she did want to take a walk, so she headed to the cafeteria to see if there was anything worth snacking on.

Flint joined her at her side. They walked in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke. "I was thinking back to the night before Hawk announced that he was leaving. We weren't exactly right on all the details, but it looks like we may have predicted the future." She may not be able to read his thoughts, but he could apparently read hers.

Flint continued quietly. "I miss those nights. And I was thinking about our talk last night. It's hard to do it here where we have to worry about our every move, so I hope while we're in DC we could make up for lost time. I did some research, and there are a couple of really nice restaurants close to where we're staying. When we land tomorrow afternoon, I want to take you out for a good, long dinner, where we can finally talk in peace. And then afterwards I want to take advantage of a private hotel room. Do you think Scarlett will be offended if she spends the couple of nights alone?"

It sounded wonderful. But before Lady Jaye could even respond they were interrupted by the arrival of a perturbed Tripwire. "Flint, you have to come by the Charlie dorm. There's a situation."

Flint muttered under his breath. "I have a meeting with the general in a few minutes. Can't Beachhead handle it?"

"Unfortunately, he's taking care of the other…situation."

Flint continued his mutterings but he followed Tripwire. Lady Jaye couldn't help but chuckle and wondered what the dueling situations were. She figured if it was a good story she'd hear about it soon enough. It was also a perfect example of their current situation. They couldn't even talk about private time together without the Joe team interfering.

She continued on to the cafeteria, while mulling over Flint's suggestion. Even though it irritated her that he apparently thought their relationship could be paused and restarted on command, it did sound like a wonderful evening. A romantic night alone together was awfully tempting. But reality was only going to set in the following morning, when the Senate subcommittee basically decided their professional future. And Lady Jaye couldn't fathom any kind of good outcome. So what then? And even at best case, that the Joe team comes through unscathed, their time in DC was limited. Was it worth bonding together for a short time when they were only going to have to distance themselves yet again once they returned to HQ?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a violent rolling in her stomach. She leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes until the wave passed. Going to the infirmary was something else she was going to add to her to-do list once she returned from DC. Hopefully the reason why she was feeling so lousy lately was something she could get an answer to.

"Yes, Hawk, I completely understand," Duke said. He cradled the phone against his shoulder and waved Beachhead in who was hovering just outside his office door. Beachhead looked extraordinarily calm, which Duke knew from past experience, was not a good sign.

That morning, at officer's call General Bradshaw had given them unsettling news regarding the latest group of "Rawhides", the elite few of the Greenshirts that were deemed nearly ready to join the Joe team. Up until a few months ago, Beachhead had been in charge of training the Rawhides. However, after Duke's injury sidelined him, Beachhead had to cede that duty to Sergeant Slaughter so he could help out with the leadership staff. But then Sergeant Slaughter transferred to Fort Hood, and Duke had slowly been able to resume his former roll, so all had assumed that Beachhead would once again be in charge of the Rawhides training. That had been the plan until that morning when word came down from DC that this latest class was still to be trained under Sergeant Slaughter.

To say that Beachhead was irate over the news would be an understatement. Granted, an angry Beachhead was a staple of officer calls, but he was especially outraged at the apparent vote of no-confidence in his training skills. Since Flint had his hands full with the sub-committee presentation, it had become Duke's headache. After officer's call ended, Duke received an earful from the drill instructor who ended his tirade with a plea to "fix it".

And Duke had tried. His first call had been to Sergeant Slaughter who was just as surprised to hear the news. To further complicate matters, the sergeant was in the middle of training a class already, so he couldn't just drop what he was doing and fly to Joe Headquarters. At first Duke thought that snafu was going to put an end to the nonsense. But when he informed General Bradshaw of Sergeant Slaughter's unavailability, the general placed a call to the Pentagon where they learned that if Sergeant Slaughter couldn't come to the Rawhides, the Rawhides would have to be brought to him. General Bradshaw had questioned the move, and received a convoluted explanation that it was all due to budget cuts.

"Budget cuts?" Duke asked once the general relayed the information he had received. "How is it cheaper to send these guys off base?"

"My guess it's because they're not planning on sending them to the Joe team once they are trained," General Bradshaw replied.

Duke dropped his head in his hands. "I hope this isn't a sign of what's to come with the sub-committee meeting."

General Bradshaw shook his head. "I'm afraid it might be. Have you had a chance to sit in on the girls' presentation?"

Duke bristled as the general's description of Scarlett and Lady Jaye, and he was glad they weren't around to hear "the girls" comment. Sure, he and Flint sometimes referred to them in that way, always out of their earshot of course, but he knew they meant it in an endearing way. Hearing the words come out of General Bradshaw's mouth seemed a little more demeaning. Duke though, knew better than to call the general out. "We did some brainstorming the other day, but I haven't seen the finished product yet. I was hoping to meet with them this afternoon." Duke looked at his watch and then muttered under his breath, as he realized it was a lot later than he thought. "Let me make a few calls and then I'm going to pop in and see how they're doing."

The few calls took longer than expected, which made him miss the latest dry run of the presentation, a fact Scarlett seemed to take great pleasure in pointing out. He had enough on his plate without delving into that mess, so he ignored her barbs as much as possible. Once he dismissed them, he quickly headed back to his office. Some sort of situation was brewing in the barracks, but he pawned the problems off to Flint and Beachhead. It was getting late on the East Coast, and if Duke had any chance of still catching Hawk at the office, he needed to call him as soon as possible.

Luck was finally on his side and he did get a hold of Hawk. However, the general had no better news for him. As Duke looked at Beachhead who had begun to pace, he knew the literal headache he had been suffering from all day was about to get worse. He wrapped up his conversation with Hawk and Beachhead stopped his pacing the minute the handset was replaced in the cradle.

"Please tell me you were able to fix this," Beachhead said.

"No go," Duke replied with a shake of his head. "I talked to the few contacts I still have in DC. Apparently the decision has been made, and nothing can change it. With the budget proceedings starting, everyone is on their best behavior, so they don't want to defy any standing orders."

"What about Hawk? He's never been afraid to rock the boat."

"He tried. He pointed out how idiotic it is to send the Rawhides to Sergeant Slaughter when there is a perfectly good training center and trainer here. He got the same cockamamie answer about budgeting. He was then politely told to mind his own business."

"Well, shit." Beachhead answered. He sat heavily in one of the empty chairs.

"The best I can offer you is that I could make the suggestion that you should accompany the Rawhides."

Beachhead scoffed. "To be a glorified baby-sitter that has to suffer through watching Slaughter's training methods? No, thanks." He settled back against the chair. After a few minutes of quiet Beachhead asked, "Am I reading too much into this, or is this as bad as I think it is?"

Duke sighed. That seemed to be the question of the day. "Officially, I know as much as you do. We'll have a better idea next week after the proceedings, so there is no need to panic just yet."

Beachhead nodded. He thanked Duke for his time, and left just as quietly as he came in. Duke reached into his desk drawer, grabbed the bottle of pain pills, and shook a couple into his mouth. He was grateful that Beachhead didn't rant and rave to add to his pain level, but the fact that Beachhead accepted the news with barely a word was disconcerting to Duke. It was like the ranger had already become resigned to his fate.

That was something that Duke hadn't been able to do yet. Over the last few months, he had made some fairly major decisions that had seemed like the right choice at the time. But now, as he had sat on what felt like the precipice of his life falling apart, he questioned just about every move he had made.

He leaned back into his chair and waited for the pills to do their magic. If anyone asked, he would claim he needed them for a killer headache. However, the truth was he needed it more for the lingering pain from the injury sustained in his battle with Serpentor. Duke had come a long way in his recovery, but on a day like today that was filled with stress and running around, he felt the throbbing pain more acutely.

He wondered if he should pay a visit to Doc, just to be checked out again, but he decided against it. Doc had strongly advised against returning to the Joe team as early as he did, and the doctor made the point to bring that fact up whenever Duke went by the infirmary to ask him a question about his pain level. To appease him, Duke had promised that his return would only involve desk duty, and he would leave the field assignments to Flint and Beachhead. That had been a hard enough caveat to offer, as he felt like a Top that couldn't leave the base was basically impotent.

But Duke had consoled himself with the idea that the restriction would only last for a short time, and that he would be healed enough for a full range of duties within a few weeks at most. However, that deadline had come and gone and Duke felt he was no closer to full recovery. If he felt this bad after just going from office to office in Joe HQ, how could he ever have the strength to return to the field?

The ache in his chest began to dull, so Duke used the opportunity to tidy up his desk. As he looked over his notes from the day, he realized that returning to the field may end up not being an option whether he was healthy or not. Between the Rawhides debacle, and the sub-committee meeting, the writing was on the wall that major changes were likely in the works for the Joe team.

He rehashed the presentation that Scarlett and Lady Jaye had put together. As much as he would have liked to focus on the technical details, he kept going back to Scarlett and her less than warm interactions with him. He didn't blame her in the slightest for her response. At the time of General Bradshaw's arrival, Duke thought it would be best to make a quick and clean break from Scarlett. She obviously hadn't agreed with him.

When Duke first began to realize that his feelings for Shana O'Hara went deeper than friendship, and well past what a first sergeant should have for a subordinate, he figured out an exit strategy. At first that simply meant keeping as much distance from her as possible. But that proved to be not as easy as it seemed. They ended up on several missions together, and a couple of them struck an emotional chord that made it very hard for Duke to keep his barrier up. Plus, Scarlett made it quite clear that she felt strongly about him, and she tried to get him to admit that the feeling was mutual.

And if he was being honest, there was a time where he had basically strung her along. He had to admit that he liked the attention, and to be honest having a woman as smart and attractive as Scarlett interested in him was quite the ego boost. So they played the game until he was stabbed by Serpentor.

Duke had no recollection of the immediate aftermath. Apparently he had been cradled by a sobbing Scarlett while he tried to dole out last minute advice to an equally upset Falcon before he slipped into a coma. Duke learned the basic details from Doc upon awakening from his coma, but he didn't realize how upset Scarlett had been until Falcon came to visit him in the infirmary.

Duke grinned at his younger brother as he walked through the door. He had gotten the full mission debrief, and had learned that the kid was a hero. "Finally, it's the man of the hour. I was wondering if you were ever going to pay your big brother a visit."

"Con, I'm sorry about that. I wanted to come sooner but I got caught up in all of the post-mission BS."

Duke waved him off, and then grimaced at the pain the small movement caused. "Don't worry about it, I'm just giving you a hard time. I hope you've been basking in the glory of your new-found hero status."

Duke was surprised to see a flash of embarrassment pass over Falcon's face. "I'm not a hero. We all worked together to beat Cobra-La." Duke nodded. Maybe the court martial and time with Sergeant Slaughter rehabilitated the kid.

They talked for a few minutes until there was a knock on the door and Scarlett walked in. She smiled at Duke but then she realized Falcon was there. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had company. I'll come back."

Falcon jumped up. "Don't be silly, you can stay. I need to go in a few minutes anyway."

"Finish up your conversation. I want to talk to Doc about something."

Falcon watched Scarlett leave and then turned to Duke. "So, what's going on there?"

"Nothing," Duke answered honestly. But the harder question was what did he want to have happen?

"Really?" Falcon asked with a smirk. "From what I hear, she's barely left your bedside."

That was true. The memory of his first moments awake was fuzzy, but most of the times he could remember Scarlett had been there with him. However, Duke wanted to put an end to the conversation before it started. "So what are your plans, are you heading back with Sergeant Slaughter?"

"Actually, Sergeant Slaughter said he's going to be hanging around here for the next few weeks, so I am too. But nice try in changing the conversation. Con, please tell me you know how desperately in love with you she is?"

Duke sighed. "I doubt it's that deep."

"I don't. I saw how devastated she was when we thought we were going to lose you. But you came back to us. You have a second chance, so why the hell aren't you doing anything about it? I know you must care about her as well."

"Damn it, Vinnie, I don't want to do this. But, yes, I do care about her, and I wish I could act on that. However, there are certain rules in place that are stopping me from doing so."

"Come on, are you sure that's not just an excuse? Look at Flint and Lady Jaye. They're bound by the same rules and they're making it work. They barely kept their hands off of each other on the transport home."

"It's different for them," Duke muttered.

"No, it's not," Falcon said as he once again stood. "Stop making yourself miserable, and for once in your life, don't be the goody two-shoes who denies himself what he really wants."

It probably wouldn't go down in history as one of the best motivational speeches ever given, but it was enough to finally spur Duke into action. When Scarlett returned to his room, and he saw the look of love in her eyes, his resistance faded. He grabbed her hand and told her how much he did care about her, and how he was done fighting it. The look on her face when he finished speaking was worth it. She took care not to hurt him as she leaned over to kiss him.

Despite being holed up in the hospital bed, Duke had one of the best afternoons in his life. They talked and laughed, and basically made up for lost time. Once Scarlett left for the night, Duke replayed the day in his head. He was happy with how it played out, but he wasn't naïve enough to believe that there weren't still going to be consequences from their actions. So he made himself a promise that at the first sign that their relationship would pose a threat to either one of their careers or the Joe team, that he would put an end to it.

So when that time came, and even though it turned into one of the most painful things he had ever done, he kept to that promise. Now the woman that used to look at him with such love and affection, looked at him with hate and disgust. He hoped that one day she would realize that he had no choice in the matter, and that ending their relationship devastated him as well. He planned on sitting down with her one day to explain his rationale again, and hopefully salvage something of a friendship.

Based on her interactions with him that afternoon, that day wasn't coming any time soon. He had made the right call staying out of the budget presentation and putting Flint in charge. He at least was still able to work civilly with Lady Jaye. Duke then wondered what the real story was with them. He didn't believe in the slightest that the two had also sacrificed their relationship. But he was not going to poke that hornet's nest. For the first time, Flint was actually being discreet about something, and as long as that kept up, than Duke didn't want to dig any deeper.

He was startled from his dark thoughts by the arrival of Falcon who knocked on his door and asked, "So what do you think?"

Duke sighed and mumbled, "That I made a complete Charlie Foxtrot of my life."

"What was that?" Falcon asked. He walked in and took a seat.

"Nothing. What's going on?"

Falcon reached over and pulled out a piece of paper and brochure from one of the piles on his desk. "Did you get a chance to read the letter from my father? He wants to put a memorial near mom's grave."

Duke hadn't as it unfortunately had gotten lost in the events of the day. But he had long since realized that he didn't have much of a say in when his stepfather had made a decision. "Yeah, it's nice," he lied.

Falcon smiled. "Great. I'll give him a call." He rose from the chair and Duke thought he was going to escape with a brief visit. However, Falcon paused and turned to him. "Conrad, are you okay? You look awful."

For a very brief moment, Duke considered coming clean. But he didn't want to burden his brother with his fears over the Joe team, as Falcon's job was just as much on the line. And as for his issues with Scarlett, confiding in the monogamous-phobic Vincent Falcone was probably a waste of time. So he once again lied. "I'm fine, just dealing with standard BS. My new task is keeping Beachhead from killing Sergeant Slaughter."

Falcon laughed. "I'd actually pay good money to see that fight." He once again walked out but stopped in the doorway. "One more thing, and this is coming from a screw-up expert, you haven't totally lost your chance with Scarlett."

Duke startled. Either the thoughts had been clearly written on his face, or his brother was more astute than he had ever given him credit for. Luckily Falcon did leave, so he didn't have to respond. He allowed himself a few more moments alone with his thoughts before he forced himself to stand up. The pleasant numbing sensations from the medication had kicked in so it was time to stop hiding in his office and get back to his job. A job he hoped he wasn't on the verge of losing. Especially since he gave up a shot at true happiness for it.