Author's Notes:

Hey guys, long time no update! Yeah, sorry about that, I've really got no excuse other than having had a pretty rough couple of months, school and social wise, moving house in the process and nearly losing all of this fic I had written. I hope some of you are still interested in this thing, I know I am again xD

I'd like to give a special thanks to ~xXTheTuneInTheWindXx over on deviantART for being such an amazing fan and contacting me with her concerns and so many damned compliments. It was so humbling, having someone care about my little story so much and she managed to pique my interest enough to get me off my ass and get around to finishing this.

I can't promise that I'll have a new chapter out every week, and there definitely won't be one out next week, since university is just PILING stuff on me at this point in time. But soon, and before the end of the month, there should be another chapter out.

So, thanks again to everyone who's continued to read, write reviews and criticisms, favourite and share. You are all the best kind of people there is and I'm ecstatic count you as friends.

-Jack Knights

Samus barely hung around long enough for the results to be shown before storming off to the changing rooms. Ike attempted to say something to her, but she shoved him aside, fuming. What the hell was Snake playing at, taking hits for her and catching her in midair like that? Was the bandana cutting off circulation to his brain?

Shaking with anger, she tore her Zero Suit off and shoved it unceremoniously into her locker. She pulled on her clothes and grabbed her bag, slamming the locker shut. She should have never given him back the bandana, she thought acidly. Look at all the good that came of it. The thing was bad luck.

The bandana, she realized. That's why he was acting all complacent and trying to help her out. Through some misconstrued sense of debt, he was trying to pay her back for her kindness. And consequently, he cost them the match. Infuriated, she turned to leave.

His hulking figure blocked the doorway and she glowered. She was in no mood to deal with him and his misplaced chivalrous bullshit. She narrowed her eyes at him and pushed past. He grabbed her arm and she turned on him, livid.

"Hey, hold on a second."

"Not in the mood," she muttered angrily, yanking her arm free. "Now piss off."

He stepped in front of her as she made to go, hands out in front of him as if to stop her. Growling, she glared at him and crossed her arms. "What the hell do you want?"

"I just wanted to say sorry," he said evenly, watching her, "for losing us the match, I mean. It's my fault we lost."

"No shit, I hadn't realized."

"Well," he started, frowning. Without letting him finish, she shoved at his chest. He took a step back, more out of surprise than due to her strength. The look he gave her was quizzical and she liked it even less than his concern.

"Get out of my way, before I beat you to death."

He snorted and crossed his arms. "Here I am, trying to apologize and all you want to do is hit me. Well, if it'll make you feel better, then go ahead. I'll give you a free shot."

She made fists of her hands and seethed. Despite his purposeful provoking, she was sorely tempted to punch him and knock a few teeth out. Instead, she stood there, shaking with rage.

"Winning isn't everything, you know," he said eventually, looking at her with disappointment. It was then that she snapped.

"Oh sure, because in a fighting tournament where only the person who wins advances up the list, winning isn't what matters. Go screw yourself."

He stared at her, unreadable ice-blue eyes boring into hers. "Didn't your CO ever teach you that you can't win them all? That you may lose the battle, but still win the war?"

"Of course I know that! The wars I've been through would make your head spin, buddy," she shouted.

"Unlikely," he muttered. "I've seen my fair share too. Why is everything with you a competition? Do you have to be better than everyone at everything?"

"Considering the way you just acted in there, I'd say I've got a good lead on you," she snapped as he stared at her in disbelief.

"I was trying to—"

"Protect me?" she cut him off. "Were you trying to save me from the hurt? Or were you trying to pay me back for taking pity on you? I never asked you to take those hits for me. I can handle myself.

"Like you handled Marth?" he prodded. Samus felt her face grow hot and she seethed.

"You forced that on me!"

"I asked you if you could take him on. If you knew you couldn't do it, you should have said something," he narrowed his eyes at her, his voice growing louder. "That way I wouldn't have to spend half the match watching out for you and saving your ass when you got in trouble!"

She shook her head, angry and incredulous. "Buddy, I'm the galaxy's best bounty hunter. I'm the last person here who needs protecting. I can take on anyone you can, so stop treating me like a defenseless child!"

"How could I when you're throwing a hissy fit like a two year old?" he remarked, his piercing eyes demanding an answer.

His words hit her like a slap to the face. Samus felt herself boil over. She snapped, lunging at him with her fist. To her surprise, he pivoted around her and caught her wrist, yanking her arm upwards. With a snarl, she elbowed him in the side. He grunted and snagged her other arm, holding it against her back.

"Let me go, you bastard!" she shouted, kicking at his shins with her heels. He stumbled back a step but maintained his grip, tightening it when she continued to struggle.

"You're the one who came at me," he muttered and she growled. Her shoulders were growing numb, but she kept trying to break free. Behind her, he was tense but unmoving with her back against his chest. He sighed irritably in her ear. "Are you going to take a swing at me again, or are you done?"

Samus huffed, grinding her teeth as she fought against him. "You won't get free," he muttered and she stopped. Tears bit at the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She'd be damned if Snake saw her crying. Suddenly he let her go and she fell to her knees.

"You are so frustrating," he growled, taking a step back. His eyes bore furiously into her, a mixture of emotion. She didn't like the disappointment she saw there.

"The battle you need to win is the one on the inside," he said with an irritated sigh as he turned to leave. She watched his back recede, struggling to maintain some semblance of composure. When he was gone, she shouted wordlessly and rammed her fist into the wall. Why did this always happen to her?