Now that RECOMPOSE has been finished, I can come back full-time to this story, the updates will be EVERY SUNDAY! YEY! Fasten your seatbelts -or unfasten them if you're younger than 18 and GTFO- because today we stir the waters in preparation to what this story really was about: DRAMA AND ADULT SITUATIONS! WIII! Also, remember we in Argentina are quarantined and if I stop updating all of a sudden, might be due to corona infection -I don't think I'm infected so far, but still, you never know until shit happens-. Take care of yourselves, my lovely Marines!

TAKE ME WHEN YOU NEED ME

PART XV

The moment the Spirit of Fire received and answered the distress call, Captain James Cutter knew that he was committing to a rough couple of weeks to come. The Flood wasn't a joke, and he had been more than honored to obliterate the damn thing to Hell with the ship's cannons, but that was only the fun part. The real show had started with a round of heavy debriefing just barely after the evacuation Pelicans had been parked and emptied, all survivors tucked in safely or hospitalized. All major officers had been already interviewed by zero-nine-thirty, since there weren't many of them left. Same with the Spartans. To the latter, Serina would soon assign a post and task because brass didn't like to see a Spartan idle for long. So, packing in only a forty-minute power nap and almost two liters of coffee -with another mug incoming-, Cutter decided that he was going to enjoy the few minutes of peace he was about to engage on. No matter the cost.

In less than ten days his beloved ship would be crawling with ONI operatives and he had to mentally prepare to withstand that storm.

Jonesy, the ship's cat, leaped onto the holo-table and purred softly when he ran a hand through the silky fur of its back and tail. The animal meowed, earning more affections, then curled up on the corner of the table to take a nap.

"Lucky you." Cutter murmured, half smiling.

The lavender miniature of Serina, the ship's Smart AI, materialized beside Jonesy and assumed a sitting position.

The bridge was silent, which was good. Driving through slipspace in autopilot didn't require a crew present at all times, so Cutter took advantage of it. For a few minutes, he just enjoyed his beverage and the shenanigans of Serina, as she pretended to rub the cat between the ears with her little holographic hands.

Too bad he didn't get to enjoy it much.

Serina stood up, suddenly. "Captain, Director Halsey on the move."

Ah, at last. He'd been wondering when she would show up on the radar.

Cutter sighed. "I don't want to be disturbed. Important matters to attend to."

"Oh, yes, sir." Serina replied, with a hint of sass to her thick British accent. "Reliving old glories while looking towards the vastness of slipspace is an honorable occupation, but this seems like something you shouldn't dismiss. She's heading this way."

The Captain clenched his jaw. Peace and quiet for fifteen minutes. No matter the cost.

"Don't worry, my forward pickets will handle her."

"The Director is approaching the first checkpoint now."

She flashed and disappeared, showing up again on the other corner of the holo-table. The AI drew a complicated map of the main deck, with several colored dots representing the crewmembers. She zoomed in one specific section: it showed a blue marker moving fast down the corridor leading to the bridge's entrance, on a collision course with other four green markers. Serina brought up the Marines' names as well as their bio-readings in little floating windows above them.

Cutter rubbed his beard in a thoughtful gesture, as he observed.

One of the green dots stepped forward, intercepting the Director. For several seconds nothing seemed to happen and he spent those moments in dubious tension, until the floating window above the Marine's marker flared red: the heart-rate signature spiked, dramatically. The other three dots hurried out of the way, and the Director continued barreling down the corridor.

"My God." Cutter muttered. "She must take after her mother."

"It appears the Director has gone rogue. ETA two minutes to Red Team."

"This has to be something serious." Cutter mused. "Know thy enemy, Serina. Why would Director Halsey be coming here?"

"Well, besides thanking you for the assistance, I would say it's a coin toss between whether the ultimate blame for the incident falls on her or Commander Locke. She might want to get an ally?" the AI offered.

"The Commander will be scapegoated for this one. Catherine Halsey can always pull enough strings to get her daughter out of trouble. It has to be dire." Cutter shook his head. "This is about the research data."

Serina looked at him quizzically. "So certain?"

Cutter nodded. "The Halseys are micromanagers at heart. She'll demand her research back."

"Which ONI has sealed off the record, pending an internal review of the incident."

"Precisely." he agreed.

"Captain, she's approaching Red Team now."

Cutter felt himself tense even more as he kept an eye on the tiny blue dot confronting three bigger markers with the shape of eagle heads. Again, for what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened. The bio-reading windows floating above them looked normal, but it was expected of Spartans to remain in control of themselves at all times.

Until the red marker designated SPARTAN-130 stepped out of the way.

The blue dot made it through the last of the Captain's defenses, swiftly.

"I didn't think I'd see the day a Spartan would falter." Cutter sighed and dropped his head, irritated. "I just wanted fifteen minutes. Fifteen."

"Shall we formulate a battle plan?" Serina asked, surprised.

"It's entirely up to us now, Serina." The Captain paced around the holo-table, waving his mug around. "Here's what we'll do: I will go upstairs through the service door. When the Director arrives, you will say I was called out on an emergency and then engage her with a barrage of small talk designed to break her will. Five minutes after you deploy, I will barge back in pretending to be busy and flustered. This will catch the Director off balance. Then, when she finally Blitzkrieg's the demand to get her research back, we will launch a combined assault on her left and right flanks. We should expect complete capitulation at that point."

"Utterly brilliant, sir." Serina complimented, drawing an ironic smile. "Your talent for stratagem knows no equal."

"I know." Cutter agreed. He looked towards the map on display, seeing that the blue dot was approaching fast to the bridge's airlock. "And that's my cue to leave. Remember the plan, Serina."

"Aye, aye Captain." the AI smiled and saluted.

x.x.x.x.x

'Well, that was surprisingly easy.' Cortana thought, glancing back over her shoulder.

Spartan Alice-130, fully clad in her blocky, outdated suit of MJOLNIR power armor, was staring at her as she left down the corridor heading to the bridge's entrance. No way to read Alice's expression, since the golden faceplate kept her features well hidden… but as she deployed the full force of her authority over Red Team demanding to see the Captain, Cortana sensed the way the SPARTAN-II analyzed her.

All three members of the team stood silent for a moment, after she spoke. She only had to mention her growing concern over John-117's current status for them to stand down and fall silent. A little frightened, she considered that they probably knew everything by now, and felt curious about their opinion on it. Blue and Red were of the same generation, raised and trained together. That sort of bond wasn't easy to break.

It was easy to notice when they spoke to each other through their TEAMCOM link.

At last, Alice was the one to give her passage, without uttering a single word.

Cortana thanked her with a nod and later, she was granted access to the Spirit of Fire's bridge before she even flashed her wristband on the wall's pad. The door just slid over with a soft hiss. She entered the ample room to find it empty, only a gray cat slept on the corner of the holo-table and the glowing miniature of the ship's AI standing beside the animal. She took her time to look around, then approached the table.

"Director Halsey, welcome aboard. I am Serina." said the AI, with a gentle smile. Her hologram looked neat and professional, her voice was comforting, easy-going. "I'm afraid Captain Cutter has been recalled in urgent official business and cannot see you now, would you like to leave a message?"

"Nice to meet you, Serina, but I will wait. Thank you."

"It might take some time."

"I have time, nothing but time now. My business is worth the wait."

The AI's smile didn't falter, but she sure hoped the Captain was listening. This might not go as easy as he had planned it, she continued with her part of the offensive since it was the path to follow:

"Have you met Jonesy, ma'am? The ship's mascot."

Cortana narrowed her eyes, looking at the lazy gray animal curled up and nonchalant.

"It's a very pretty cat." she said, not very interested.

"He's the soul of this unit, as the Captain likes to say." Serina chirped, happily.

"I'm sure…"

"Lovely weather we're having, don't you think?"

"… we're in slipspace." Cortana frowned hard, then, confused.

Was the AI stalling, by any chance?

"Are the accommodations to your liking, ma'am? If you need medical attention or to speak with a qualified professional for emotional relief, I can…"

"Where exactly is the Captain, Serina?" Cortana cut her off, suspicious.

Military AIs weren't chatty by nature. Well, maybe this one was, but Cortana felt like something wasn't right. She didn't know James Cutter but it almost looked like the man was avoiding her: protocol dictated that all commanding officers or civilian commanders had to be debriefed first, and she hadn't been called in. Anyone would think that, if Cutter would want to see someone urgently to be informed of the details, it would be her. And yet, she had to be the one to come looking for him. Strange indeed.

"He's in his quarters, attending official business." Serina said, calmly.

"I see." Cortana looked swiftly to the service door.

The Captain's quarters were usually located directly above the bridge, so the officer in charge would be the first person to man his station in an emergency. The Spirit of Fire was an old ship but the familiar door was there, in the far left corner of the bridge half-hidden behind an array of computer screens.

Would it be rude of her to go straight upstairs and knock on his door?

In the end it wasn't necessary, she heard muffled fumbling and steps and ultimately the service door opened. A middle-aged man in gray BDUs stepped out, he was holding a cup of steaming coffee and his icy-blue eyes looked annoyed under the bill of his cap. Cortana was about to greet him, but he started talking quickly:

"Look, Director Halsey, I understand you must be worried about your research, but I've been incredibly busy this morning..."

"Yes, I did notice that my belongings and the helmet I kept have disappeared." She cut him off, crossing her arms now. "But we will discuss that accordingly later, Captain. This is about John."

Cutter stopped in the act of going around the holo-table and frowned:

"... who?" he asked, confused.

"John-117?" she blinked, frustrated.

"You mean the Spartan?"

"Yes."

"Oh." the Captain made a pause. "Serina, do we have a tactical contingency for this?"

"I'm afraid it wasn't contemplated, sir."

He sighed heavily. Cortana made a grimace.

"Well, I'm sure you already know that your Spartans have been commandeered back by SECTION-III. My orders are to provide for their needs and deliver them to a rendezvous point."

She remained stoic: "I want access to ICU-Seven, in Deck Twelve."

Cutter tilted his head, even more confused now.

"The CMO has declared a security lockdown on that wing." he informed. "ICU is very serious business, Director."

"Oh, I am aware. I request access to Spartan-117, specifically. It's important."

"Why?" the Captain pushed further, as he kept an eye on her.

Serina sat her holographic display beside the sleeping cat, and she began to pretend she was petting it. Cortana was distracted by that futile pantomime for a second, but in the end she inhaled deeply and continued:

"I haven't seen him since the incident, when the medics took him in."

"With all due respect, Director Halsey, I don't think that's a motive to break protocol."

"He saved my life, I want to make sure personally that he is being well cared for."

Cutter's hard stare seemed to soften a little. He was a patient man, he spoke calmly and with an air of paternal comfort. But she didn't need comfort.

"Spartan-117 has been cooled down and seems to be stable for the time being, if that's what you wanted to check. I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't help you. You're only wasting time."

She bit her lip, angry, anxious. She refused to let go, Anders had told her to talk to the Captain for a reason and she wasn't going to back down. Cortana also knew that she would be pushing her luck maybe a little too much, but…

"What if there were... extenuating circumstances?" she said, softly.

The Captain sighed, raising his cup again: "Like what?"

"I'm pregnant." Cortana paused, inhaling sharp, and just said it: "He's the father."

Cutter coughed once, choking on his coffee. He lowered his cup, slowly, to place it on the corner of the holo-table and turned around to look at Cortana, his icy-blue eyes were severe again. He looked like he was about to have a stroke.

"Serina." the man called, peacefully.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Execute security protocol 10-24. Delete all audio and video files since Miss Elizabeth Sarah Halsey entered the bridge."

The AI seemed to hesitate, but continued: "I'm going to need confirmation."

"Executive key alpha-two-three-nine-nine-six-juliet-golf-charlie."

"Thank you, sir. Files deleted. As per protocol 10-24, you can dispose of three hundred seconds of absolute privacy, starting at the end of this message. Please keep in mind that this instance will be reported and you will need to provide declaration as per the reasons of the invocation of said protocol."

"I comply. Thank you, Serina."

The holo-table deactivated and Serina's image dissolved in a rain of light particles, as the AI removed herself completely from the bridge. The cat moved with a lazy gesture and yawned, showing off its big fangs. Cortana just waited, very curious. Cutter let out a deep sigh and removed the cap from his head, scratched his salt-and-pepper short hair. He looked tired. After pinching the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, the Captain squared himself and looked outside the massive viewports, into the dark nothingness of slipspace.

"Why do I always get stuck with the drama?" he murmured, worn-out.

"What's this all about?" Cortana asked, carefully.

"Miss Halsey, I'm not sure you understand the... position, you have put yourself in." the Captain started, speaking in his usual calm tone. Leaving the cup behind, Cutter moved closer to Cortana, hands clasped behind his back. She confronted him with her chin high, proudly. "The SPECOPS branch doesn't admit meddling, and their Spartans, especially, are untouchable. Look, I don't know the details and God knows that I'm better off not knowing, but you might have made yourself a target, now."

It wasn't like Cortana hadn't considered. It's just that she hadn't considered her dirty little secret would get out of hand the way it did.

"A target for whom?"

"Anyone who could use that child for leverage? The Insurrection would have a party. And I'm pretty sure ONI would be very interested, too."

Yes, ONI had always been something to worry about, that much was true.

'That's why it was supposed to be kept a secret.' she thought, sad.

She tried a different angle: "Captain, being pregnant is not a crime. Being pregnant of a military man isn't a crime either. And I assure you, it doesn't feel like a crime to know that this remarkable man, John-117, is the father of my child." she started, gaining confidence as she went. The heat that was rising to her cheeks and ears only made her more certain of which were the right words, and of how true they were. "He saved our lives by putting his on the line. If anything, he is a hero."

"Does the Spartan know about your condition?"

"He is very aware of it, yes."

"Are you two... in a relationship, then?"

She blushed and lied: "Yes, sir."

Cortana wished for Cutter to be so dumbfounded that he wouldn't notice that there was literally no extension of UNSC regulation giving her the privilege of breaking protocol or any other special privileges, for that matter. The man didn't look very convinced, his gentle face gave away that he was catching on her rouse…

When she hugged herself, something tingled inside her jacket's pocket…

"We're engaged." Cortana blurted out, unconsciously.

It was the last resort. A last desperate Hail Mary, that had little to no chances.

Cutter blinked: "I didn't know Spartans could get engaged."

"Well, John asked and I said yes." she insisted, talking fast, stretching the lie. Now that the bait seemed to have been swallowed, she had to find a way to hold the line long enough to get what she wanted. Cortana fumbled inside her pocket and pulled out the chain with the dog tags, showing them off like a trophy. "He gave these to me. It's not like he could get a ring, but as for meaning..."

Cutter looked at the plates with the kind of look one would give to something that hits too close to home. His shoulders slumped a little. Cortana felt so close to the completion of her goals that she could almost taste it.

"I'm not going to say that it's overly convenient that the Master Chief isn't available to confirm your story, but…" Cutter started, raising an eyebrow.

"You can check my medical records." she retreated her hand, holding the dog tags very close to her chest. The plates felt heavy between her fingers. "Captain, the only crime here is keeping family away from him. Please."

It was a bizarre combination of words, for sure.

Family, in the context of a Spartan and everything it implied. Fatherhood. A child.

Those words, however, had a nice ring in Cortana's thoughts when she added John into the mix. It was the most ridiculous thing she could come up with, but if it would get her close to him, then yes. She was the loving fiancée and she was willing to make a vow and play her part well.

Not like it was going to be difficult to pretend she loved him, anyway…

Captain Cutter cleared his throat and shook his head, capitulating at last.

"Look, Miss Halsey. I'm not a cold-hearted bastard… and there's still nine more days until the rendezvous point, so here's what we will do: I will personally endorse your access to the premises. But if the CMO finds your presence disruptive, she will have every right to kick you out and I won't intervene." he started, his ice-blue eyes were fierce. "The Master Chief is under a different jurisdiction, and this is my ship. I won't risk the wellbeing of my crew over a love affair."

"I wasn't asking you to risk anything, sir. I just want to see him."

"Fine. I'll instruct Serina to clear your ID for entry, then."

"Thank you, Captain." she rewarded the man with a sweet smile, full of promises.

Quickly, Cortana turned around to get out of the bridge.

However…

"Miss Halsey." Cutter called, softly, before she left. "We still have a few seconds."

Curious, she returned to the holo-table. The expression on the man's face had shifted to one of deep worry, now. He was rubbing the white beard on his chin with a pensive gesture, the cap was back again on his head.

With reluctance, Cortana approached and paid attention anyway.

"I think you should know this. In case there's a… bad turn." He started, wary. "I'm not too surprised to hear your story because there was a similar incident aboard this very ship, a couple of years ago."

Cortana raised her eyebrows.

'Wait, one of their Spartans got someone pregnant, too?' she thought.

Cutter didn't wait for her to reply:

"Spartan-130 was the first we noticed, she was chasing after a one of my Lieutenants. I was afraid it would turn into an epidemic, we had no idea what was going on and they have such closely-knit groups... Jerome started to show signs not long after, we could contain Douglas before it got out of hand. My understanding is that Spartan-130 finally achieved her goal, but ONI took them all away for a couple of weeks and we haven't had any trouble with that ever since. Red Team is a paragon of commitment and efficiency."

Cortana felt a pit opening down in her stomach.

What was Cutter implying, that Alice had gotten pregnant and ONI made it disappear?

Sadness turned to fear, upon reaching to that unspoken conclusion.

The captain kept talking: "Keep an eye on them. Your Spartans, I mean. If your team leader has already secured a partner, it's not too far out there to believe that other members of the team would follow... they tend to follow, inevitably. Like a pack of wolves, they will mate once the alpha couple has done it."

Cortana blushed violently but, in the end, she clenched her teeth and fury crushed her embarrassment. Why did everyone insist on treating the Spartans like wild animals? Using words like 'mating' and comparing them to a pack of wolves... she understood that Cutter, who wasn't a scientist, probably didn't have any other way to establish an analogy, but it made her sick. Ashamed, too. She hadn't been different herself, once.

She'd come a long way since the days when she only considered them as specimens…

"That's why you said I might have become a target." Cortana murmured, strained.

"Just be careful. I can't help out much, Miss Halsey… as a matter of fact, by regulation I should report you. But I'm not going to, I think the invocation of protocol 10-24 should say enough." He sighed, then recovered his cup of coffee from the holo-table. The device was titillating with a lavender light around the edges, sign that their three-hundred seconds of privacy were coming to an end. "The situation with Alice was… an unfortunate event for the crew. I wouldn't want it to be repeated."

"I think you are forgetting who I am, Captain." she didn't hide her pride.

"Oh, I don't forget. But ONI likes to make a point and someone else can be punished in your place, ma'am. Keep that in mind."

Cortana swallowed hard. Of course she had considered that, too.

But she was absolutely determined to protect John, no matter what. He wouldn't have to pay for her mistakes, she decided. Cortana left the room this time, feeling a little numb, a hand covering her stomach in an involuntary protective gesture. When she walked by the post of Red Team, her eyes wandered over the imposing, blocky figure of Alice-130.

All three Spartans followed her with their faceplates as she passed.

Yes, they knew what was going on. No need to ask. Blue Team must've told them.

Just like Cutter had put it, Spartans built closely-knit groups and the SPARTAN-II had been raised and trained together. It made sense.

x.x.x.x.x

It took her over an hour and a half to walk the whole distance from the bridge to ICU-7 in D-12, but she made it. And Cortana managed to do it without unwanted escorts, turning in her head the words of her conversation with the Captain over and over. She couldn't stop thinking about Alice-130. She'd done her research, if what Cutter said was true, then why it wasn't on the Spartan's records?

'Do you think ONI would want this to be on their files, Elizabeth?' said the voice.

Once she got cleared by a very irritated CMO, she made her way to the room.

Cortana shook her head, standing before the door in question.

She approached her wrist to the pad on the wall fearing it would flash red upon reading her wristband, but she startled when the tiny screen bleeped and turned green. The door slid to the side and the lights inside turned on. Cortana stepped in quickly, finding herself alone and small in a cramped room with the huge bed in which John was kept and the machinery hanging from the ceiling, a strong chemical scent almost burnt her nose. For a moment, she couldn't move and the door closed behind her.

It took her a long moment to decide about whether she wanted to get close or not.

It hurt more than the last time she saw him, earlier that morning. The faint bleeping of the heart monitor was so slow, almost a handful of pulses per minute. The upper part of his body was propped up by the inclination of the bed, he wasn't completely lying flat on his back. His skin, aside from the black, blue and yellow of the bruises, looked gray, with the markings of blue blood vessels all over. His lips were blue as well. His chest rose and fell very few times, if she hadn't seen that hint of movement she would've thought to be staring at a beaten-up corpse.

Cortana fought back the tears, trying to remain strong. She walked to the left, assessing the display before her with a technical eye. She took the pad out of her jacket's pocket and linked it with the machinery, extracting the medical report to read a little more about his condition. No improvement, it had been just a couple of hours since she first saw him, what was she expecting? Her specialty wasn't medicine, but still she oversaw the efficacy of the bandages applied, their cleanliness and how well put they were. The sharp chemical smell came from him, she noticed. John had been washed methodically with disinfectants.

All the left side of his body was wrapped and strapped tight, unreachable.

When she approached from the right, her gaze fell onto his big hand lying immobile on the gelpad of the bed. She almost expected to find blood under his nails but turns out that it had been thoroughly removed too.

Cortana put the tablet back in her pocket and hesitated.

Did she really want to touch him? She knew she could burst into tears if she did.

Already feeling the familiar wet burn in her eyes, she reached out; her fingers touched lightly his wrist and the cold made her whimper. Gathering her strength, Cortana grabbed his hand with both of hers and withstanding the icy touch of his skin, she held him close to her lips. The size difference between them mesmerized her, as it always did. His arm was a little stiff, it was macabre like an early setting rigor mortis. Cortana tried not to think about that and kissed one by one the injured knuckles, staring at his face with this childish hope that John would open his steel-blue eyes and look at her.

He remained quiet, unresponsive.

She didn't cry, after all. Cortana lowered his hand back to the gelpad, and…

John's fingers twitched, scaring the shit out of her. She let go immediately, startled.

She looked at his face, again: no sign of a response.

'It was just a reflex. Or wasn't it?' she thought, heart leaping.

Maybe he sensed her. Something warm flourished in her chest.

'I can't leave him. He feels I'm here.' she thought, hopeful. 'He knows I'm here.'

How was she supposed to return to her quarters after this?

'He's in a coma, Elizabeth. He feels nothing.'

She ignored the mean voice and turned around to make a serious assessment, minding the space left in the narrow room. It would be enough for a small cot, if she could find one. Perhaps even two chairs would be good enough. She would need blankets, a pillow. Spare clothes. It was chilly in the room, she would need to stay warm.

How much could she keep pushing her luck, and the Captain's sympathy?

Cortana pulled the pad out again and accessed the ship's inventory…

x.x.x.x.x

She located the STORAGE & LAUNDRY STATION 11-6 rather quickly.

It was the only one that had a stock of cots and blankets that wasn't at the other side of the ship, although it was too close to the common areas and she could be seen. Cortana had clearance for the retrieval of the items, since her request had been approved by the Supply Officer -she didn't give many details on why she requested a cot when she had quarters of her own, but the Officer didn't dispute her claim-. She flashed her wristband on the pad and entered the facilities quickly when the door opened.

The room was huge, it smelled of standard issue laundry soap and sanitizer; it wasn't a nice smell but it wasn't awful either. The wall to her right was upholstered to the ceiling with washing equipment, there were six steel tables with a few scattered chairs and several stacks of wire baskets around and at the bottom were the storage racks. The floor was like a chessboard of dark-gray and black gratings, to facilitate the flow of spilled water.

At the moment, the dumb AI in charge of laundry duty was idle.

The room was deserted. Not that she minded too much, but the privacy was welcome.

Cortana made her way towards the racks. Each was labeled according to its contents, and she was looking for R-3.3 to get collapsible cots and chairs. She made a point to grab a basket. Turns out that what she found the rack, but not the elements she was looking for. All she could see before her were neat piles of clean blankets and sheets.

The rack still had one shelf that she couldn't see from the floor level, maybe…

Cortana put the basket down to step on it and reach the upper shelf.

But she stepped too close to the edge and the basket tilted over, making her fall. In her panic, she grabbed the first thing she got her hands on and pulled a lot of blankets with her, collapsing on a nest of white padded cloth. It hurt, though. Her hip wasn't fully healed yet and her first, scared thought was that pregnant women should avoid falling or being injured if they wanted to stay pregnant full-term. She was pushing her luck too much.

Heart racing, Cortana clasped a hand on one of the shelves, to get up.

That's when she heard the door of the room open, and two people entered.

They were talking:

"… not sure of what's going on but I'm already behind schedule." a man said.

"Get in and close the door." a husky female voice ordered.

Cortana peeked between the shelves, surprised. Good, she could ask them for help. The two figures walked over to stand between the steel tables, both were dressed in the Spirit of Fire's uniform. The man was quite tall, the woman that faced him, on the contrary, was thin and short, her hair was long and black tied up in a ponytail.

'Agent Lopis?' Cortana thought, when she recognized her face.

The tall man had to be the Lieutenant, then. Now she recognized his voice.

Cortana squirmed to the side until she got visual of the Spartan's tense features. Fred-104 looked composed as usual, but there was a stiffness running along his jaw that seemed a bit dangerous. Lopis didn't look very happy either. What was going on there?

Cortana raised her eyebrows and forgot to make her presence noticeable.

Since the day she had introduced them to one another on the testing facility, back at SHIELD Base, she had this thought deep in the back of her mind: that they had fooled her somehow. She had seen them get along quite too well for two people who didn't know each other. Lopis' service file was unreachable, hidden under tons of SECTION-III encryptions, but it was known that she had been formerly a Special Inspector on the planet Gao's Police, Homicide division. She was a tough and smart woman.

The Lieutenant's service file had some suspicious blank spaces, to be honest, most of them in the recent time. He'd been recorded working with the Gamma SPARTAN-III team several times, the funny coincidence was that this team had been under Lopis' command for several years now. ONI had their ways; but Cortana wasn't stupid and she eventually put two and two together.

Why would they play games in front of her, then?

Maybe it was what was required of them. Cortana made sure to keep an ear out…

"Please, don't be an angry mouse right now." Fred was saying, conciliatory.

Lopis closed her eyes, irritated: "Don't call me that."

"My bad, Inspector Lopis." he smirked. "Would you prefer 'hot mama' instead?"

"Not the time to be a comedian, Fred." she gave him a furious look.

The Spartan surrendered, raising his big hands in clear display of non-violence.

"If you would explain to me…"

"I think you are the one who has things to explain, Lieutenant."

"As long as it's not classified, I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

"Okay. What's going on with you and Elizabeth Halsey?"

Fred froze. He stared at Lopis with a frown. "Am I being interrogated?"

"Answer the question."

"That's classified, indeed."

"I've seen the way you look at her, Fred. Te estás tirando a esa zorra?"

Cortana covered her mouth with her hand, shocked. The woman had just asked Fred, in her native Spanish, if he was sleeping with her of all people. Well, Cortana had considered him a candidate for her experiment, but she couldn't help to feel outraged at being called a whore. She was, at most, an ungrateful bitch.

The Spartan curled his lip, irritated as well: "Are you out of your mind, Lopis?"

"No me trates como si estuviera loca, sé que algo está pasando."

'Don't treat me like I'm crazy, I know something is going on.'

"What do you think you know, to begin with?" he inquired, cautious.

Lopis looked around and then pulled a chair from the nearby steel table, she put it right in front of the Lieutenant and climbed onto it. The intensity of her frown was reaching new levels of scary. Why would she do that, stand up on a chair to…?

Oh, but of course…

Realization hit Cortana like a punch on the back of her head.

Lopis had to be eye to eye with Fred to be able to fight back, because otherwise...

Cortana felt fire in her belly when she remembered every time she had tried to argue with John, while he looked down on her from his imposing height. Lopis was two full heads shorter than Fred's height and a little more than a third of his weight out of armor. Still, she was an intimidating woman with a strong and confident personality, but she had no way to stand up to a Spartan physically. Their sheer aura of power and dominance was devastating unless you could find a way to distance yourself from them, somehow.

Lopis had figured out how to do exactly that: establish distance. Stepping on the chair, she was at his same height. Just tall enough to make Fred look up to her eyes.

A long silence followed her actions, their stare contest was intense.

"I think you're fucking her because you can't fuck me." she said, blunt like a brick.

Fred shook his head, stunned.

"How do you even arrive to that conclusion?" he said, softly, after a moment.

The woman gave him a hurt look and crossed her arms. She did it in a fashion that was more self-defense than a show of aggression. Her beautiful tanned features mixed up with hurt, not just her appetite for answers. On his side, Cortana observed that Fred seemed to know what she was talking about, he looked like he was painfully aware of everything.

His shoulders slumped when she spoke again:

"I trusted you." Lopis said, her voice sorrowful. "Goddammit, Fred, I trusted you!"

"Inspector, stop." he pleaded, still showing his palms at her. "I will not stand here and be accused of things I haven't done."

"Your schedule is full of holes!"

"You've been investigating me?"

"How could I not? You avoid me for days. Then we get a fucking Flood outbreak that we barely survive, and you question my decisions in front of everyone at the Pelican? Now all of a sudden you're all snuggly with the Director?"

"Your choice to drive the Warthog was…"

"We're not talking about that!"

"Well, I assure you, it's not what you think." Fred insisted, his voice was stern now.

"But it's classified." she mocked.

"It's dangerous." he snarled, stretching the word. "The less you know, the better."

The Lieutenant went quiet, then. He certainly knew how to talk, but most importantly, he seemed to know how to talk with Lopis in particular. Fred kept his voice well balanced, soothing. Cortana supposed he had been trained for it, maybe with a background in hostage negotiations.

It didn't matter how good he was, anyway.

The tiny woman pointed a sharp finger to his chest. She didn't touch him, though.

"I know she's pregnant."

"Fuck." Fred muttered, and looked up to the ceiling with intense frustration.

From then on, Lopis went on talking in her native language; Cortana didn't understand much because Spanish wasn't exactly her strong suit. She pointed out the alleged holes in Fred's schedule and everything that didn't seem to fit with his behavior, turns out that she had been keeping close tabs on what Cortana herself did doing those days. Like how many times Cortana had accessed Fred's service files in the previous months, missing security video files and times neither of them could be accounted for. To Cortana's dismay, the Inspector had caught several of the many times she'd sneaked off work and in the middle of the night to meet John and fuck like animals.

She saw the Lieutenant close his eyes and just wait.

He knew, as well as Cortana, how wrong Lopis was about everything.

Fred endured it all in silence. But you didn't need a trained eye to perceive the tension running across his broad shoulders: he was this close from snapping. Cortana couldn't help to picture him breaking loose and pushing the small brunette against the wall, maybe even ripping off her clothes and fucking her senseless until she begged for more in Spanish and every other language. They had that kind of energy, to be honest, this aggressive need to be tangled up and naked, clawing at each other with desperate passion.

Frederick-104 wasn't John-117. And he knew things Cortana didn't.

So as Lopis kept going, the Spartan just pulled the jacket off his shoulders, gifting both Cortana and the Inspector with an impressive view of corded muscle under the thin layer of the black sleeveless undershirt he was wearing. It contoured his narrow waist and ample torso nicely, making a spectacular show of his shoulders, thick neck and intimidating arms traced with pale scars.

The small woman went silent immediately, mid-sentence.

'Oh, Fred really knows how to end an argument.' Cortana thought, interested.

Yes, he was leaner than John, perhaps an inch or two taller. Not less muscular but more elegant in his form, still quite imposing, beautifully carved. Shameful heat rose all the way up to Cortana's ears, she couldn't believe she was checking him out yet again.

Lopis froze: "What are you doing?"

"Well, you don't have your gun and this jacket is a little tight. If you're going to start throwing punches, I need room to move." Fred explained, serene but firm. "Are you going to start throwing punches?"

She blinked several times, stiff on her position above the chair.

Fred threw the jacket over the nearest steel table and stood one step closer to her, still looking at the agent's eyes. The air inside the room was suddenly loaded with electricity, waiting for the thunder. Fred was big, strong, he could've done whatever he wanted with her and Cortana, from her hiding spot, was painfully aware that something was coming. The Spartan was like the panther stalking the innocent prey. Lopis was left at his complete mercy, his blue-green eyes were pinning her down in place with an intensity that would've made a concrete wall feel aroused. So interesting.

For a long moment, none of them said anything else.

The thing is, Lopis was eerily still. Cortana caught up on that, feeling strange.

"Are you going to lay a hand on me?" the Lieutenant asked slowly, tantalizing.

The woman didn't respond. Her eyes were wide open, dark and haunted.

"¿Me vas a poner la mano encima, Veta?" Fred repeated, speaking in her tongue this time. His accent was thick, his deep baritone voice had turned rougher. "Ya sabes lo que viene si me tocas. Tus reglas, no las mías. Es tu decisión."

'Are you going to lay a hand on me, Veta? You know what's coming if you touch me. Your rules, not mine. It's up to you.'

Cortana sensed a slow shiver rolling down her spine.

His voice. The subtle undertone of command, the strength and sheer force it enveloped. Fred was talking just like John did when he got... intense. When he got tired of her games and established who was in charge. Oh. Oh God.

She recognized that tone, and what came after.

Cortana's eyes opened wide, heat rising to her cheeks.

They were going to fuck. Oh, shit, they were going to fuck!

TO BE CONTINUED

Poor Cutter, he doesn't know the debacle that's coming to his ship. And Lopis, she got it all wrong. I think our tiny Inspector here is about to be corrected in a way that she's going to like, but first… there's a couple of things we need to know about Veta Lopis and her particular relationship with Fred. Not everything is the way Cortana sees it.

About Lopis, I have this particular headcanon that she's a Latina (Gao seems to be a very South-American-cultured planet), that she pulls chairs in front of Fred when they have an argument, and that when she gets angry she speaks in Spanish :P so Fred got himself a tiny Latina and so much more than what he bargained for, indeed. We'll get to that in the next chapter, down with some sweet sexy times as well.

Stay tuned, John will be back from the dead soon. Thank you very much for your company and don't forget to leave your comments, they're greatly appreciated! :3 REMEMBER, THIS STORY NOW UPDATES EVERY SUNDAY!