Okay so this chapter guys, has spice, just like I promised.
I also said that I'd post two chapters howeverrrrr, this chapter is basically two chapters long, and it didn't feel right dividing it into two parts so I instead present to you a double chapter-in one update! Sweet, right?
I hope y'all enjoy it, I sure did whenever I read through it, tee-hee.
Disclaimer: Day XXX, still ain't no owner.
Chapter 29 – Gaining Equilibrium
Unknown location, 07:31 hours, AM
"Fools, fools, they think they can grab the keys before me? Outrageous! Pax, get me another location of one of the keys, we cannot let those infuriating Spartans get their hands on it, not again. Despicable… I loathe Dr. Halsey's creations…" The rather crazed voice seethed in the darkness of his lab, the only source of light coming from the screen before him. Scarred hands were squeezing the control panel with a white-knuckled grip, eyes rapidly running across said screen. Galaxies and planets were zooming past, Pax searching for the next location as per its orders.
"Sir, why did you not succeed in retrieving the first key?" The A.I. questioned meanwhile performing its duties. It was only natural for it to seek answers to something it hadn't expected would fail.
"Because that A.I. refused to give me the information that would have unlocked the Oracle's hidden compartment which holds the key fragment. Even with my torture device, it should have been guaranteed! But it was fractured, broken to miniscule pieces… like a ruined puzzle. Tell me, Pax, why did its rampancy overrule the code? My code?" The voice hissed again, the used tone of voice a tell-tale sign of the unbridled anger hiding underneath the surface.
"Sir, you said it was fractured? Perhaps its rampancy deflected your malware where it traced the malwares' attempt at spreading its coding to all the fractured parts, overruling your coding? Conceivably, sir, your coding had too little spread to contrast the speed of the rampancy?"
The figure hunched over the control panel hummed, brow furrowing in thought.
"Ah, that would make sense… I would need to readjust, take precaution, for such an unforeseen turn of events. Thank you, Pax, you are always so helpful."
"Not a problem, sir, it is my duty to assist you. You are my creator." The A.I. responded.
"Your next location is here, sir." Said A.I. zoomed in on a moon, showcasing where the closest key was to their location.
"Ah, perfect. This key will be mine. Spartans be damned!"
Location: Recreations Room, UNSC Infinity
"Watcha think you're doing,Evans? This ain't no movie action scene with epic fuckin' background music, so quit foolin' about! We're supposed to work in teams here, but you wouldn't understand the word if it so happened to fuckin' slap you in the face, would ya!" Private Thompson exclaimed rather vulgarly, all the while shaking his supposed partner by his shoulders, showcasing his clear frustration of being stuck with him.
In this particular instance of course, for the two were inseparable in combat. Where you saw one, the other would always be nearby. Such was the father-son relationship of the two. However, it didn't mean that they have their fair share of conflicts – such as this one. Competition wasn't their strong suit unless it was against each other.
Evans elbowed his partner in retaliation, a frown marking his face.
"Well, I wouldn't say no to pimp-slap someone for free, you offering there, Evans?" 013 batted her eyelashes at the marine opposite her, whose face turned an auspicious shade of red at her comment. Perhaps because she was playing a game of flirtatious footsies under the table, her foot slowly stroking its way up Private Evans' calf, obviously throwing him off.
"You seem awfully red there, Evans, you doing okay? Do you need to see Doc? It's okay to fold, you know?" 013 continued, a wicked smile curling her lips upwards, her eyes twinkling all the while. She even dropped her voice an octave whenever she said Private Evans' name out loud, for added effect. On the outside, 013 appeared cool and collected, however on the inside she was laughing her ass off, the scenario before her making keeping her façade up quite difficult.
Not that that stopped her.
"C'mon Evans, we don't got all day, what's pretty boy going to do?" She urged, her foot still stroking up his pant leg. Then, quite on a whim, really, she decided to antagonize the poor marine even further by curling her toes in a sinful manner against his thigh. Seconds ticked by, the Private opposite her remaining ever so silent. She secretly commended him on how he was still so put together, despite the fact that she was playing dirty.
Well, until…
"I fold! I fold, I fold, I fold!" The Private finally lost his composure when her foot had risen to the point where she innocently perched it in the spot between his legs, just centimeters away from his family jewels. The marine shot up from his chair, causing it to tip and then hit the floor with a loud bang. For a moment, it was as if time decided to stand still, not even a breath being heard. Then all hell broke out.
Everyone guffawed at Private Evans, 013 in particular, her stomach muscles strained at how hard she was laughing. The humiliation that the marine was very much feeling at that point was clearly written across his face. He even seemed so flustered that he struggled to breathe, forgetting such an act because of how distracted he'd become of 013's… questionable methods. Private Evans shamefully crouched to pick the chair back up in an attempt to break the spotlight he was in. Through it all, his gaze remained steadfast on said chair, as he knew that he would see the reactions to his embarrassment on his fellow soldiers' faces. That alone would reset his attempt in regaining his composure.
013, feeling extremely guilty all of a sudden, went up to the marine, patting him on the back in a friendly, albeit apologetic, manner.
"Hey, I'm sorry, Evans, but it was too hilarious of a moment to pass up, forgive me?" Evans seemed to grumble something, before a resigned sigh escaped his lips. He shook his head at her and rose to meet her gaze, a soft look in them, his arms coming to cross in front of his chest.
"You're forgiven. It was a dirty trick playing footsies though, I must admit."
"Well, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to win a bet. Speaking of… " 013 turned around, her eyebrow raising at her own teammate.
"Cough it up, Tucker, your lunch-money's mine." Said soldier let out a defeated noise.
"You had one job, Evans, how'd you let her win? She has absolute shit cards, just look at 'em." Tucker gestured towards the thrown pile of cards that lay on the table. Private Evans, now frowning confusedly, reached across the table, grasping a hold of 013's discarded cards.
"You fuckin' kidding me, son? You lost to absolute garbage cards? Remind me to never play poker with you again, you're thinking with the wrong damn head…" The older marine, Private Thompson, muttered in exasperation. Evans could only shrug and smile an awkward smile in response. Most likely because of the comment his partner had made, his face once again lighting up in red hues.
Tucker waggled his eyebrows at the marine when he caught the gaze of the blonde.
"Pretty boy…" Tucker whispered, mockingly cat-calling him.
"Shut up, you wouldn't stand a match against her either, see how you react when her foot goes places." Evans quickly shot back, his hand gesturing towards his nether regions.
"Tucker knows better not to do that, he knows what happens already. Don't you, Tucker?"
Mentioned marine nodded.
"He definitely knows better."
"Well alright boys, it was great stealing money from you but this girl is due a work-out, catch you guys some other time?" 013 clapped her hands together, cocking her hip, assuming her signature pose.
"Until next time." Private Evans and Private Thompson nodded at her, and she smiled at them before spinning on her heel to walk towards the exit. She sent one last wave over her shoulder before fully disappearing from view.
Tucker decided to follow after her, sending his friends a wave of good-bye as well, before jogging to catch up to 013. She was damn quick.
"Mind if I come along to work out?" The female glanced at him, her face twisting into a thoughtful expression upon hearing his request.
That was actually a good question - Did she mind?
She's gotten to know Tucker better over the course of the last few weeks while Blue Team had been gone. He wasn't at all what she had first expected, his Samaritan behavior surely a surprise to her - comparison to how he's acted previously, that is. She didn't exactly have anything good of him to go on in her judgement of his character.
Thus, the surprise.
Although…. He had been the one to introduce her to the young Private Evans and his older counterpart Private Thompson after telling her that the three of them, sometimes together with other marines, would arrange a poker night now and then.
As he had said that, 013 had taken notice of the guilty expression that temporarily overcame his facial futures. She had figured out why quickly enough - no one wanted to socialize with her due to all the rumours flying around, however the one that took the prize was how she'd been informed that a certain band of delinquents lay behind her outcast status. It wasn't exactly news to her when she heard it. It would just be like Team Airhead and Co. to instill fear in everyone that even the thought about approaching her in a friendly manner would cause consequences.
So they left her be, which ultimately lead her to be by herself.
Hadn't she been by herself though, she might've not met and become close to the Spartans…
'Is that a bad thing or not, I can't really tell anymore… '
013 shook her head, ridding herself of the train of thought. She refused to walk down that lane at the moment. She was glad though, that Tucker had dared to break the one unspoken rule, because now she might actually have some decent company, and colleagues to spend time with when Jeff and Casey were unavailable. It was odd, really, the whole experience - it felt a lot like being back at the Academy all over again, the groupings, introductions and basically the whole lot that came with getting to know new people. What even led her up to this moment was the fact that she simply didn't have the energy to hold a grudge against Tucker after he had apologized. She hadn't forgiven him fully yet, she didn't know how, but his company was surprisingly okay.
'Actually, it's almost like Jeff and Tucker were twins but separated at birth… '
It was true. Once Tucker decided that he wanted to make it up to her for all the misery he's caused her, he had the same damn persistent streak like her best friend. When Jeff got to meet Tucker for the first time, he'd had this weird expression on his face. She remembered that moment oh so clearly…
Flashback -
"It's like watching myself… It's hella creepy." Jeff had whispered to her when his eyes landed on Tucker, said marine currently cleaning the bathroom. The other two soldiers were loitering in the doorway, simply watching Tucker scrub the facets, a concentrated look on said marine's face. The nostalgia of bathrooms and Tucker in the same context wasn't lost on 013, either.
She still remembered Tucker's shocked expression when she'd bumped into him, asking for directions to the nearest bathroom because her memory had decided to take temporarily leave – involuntarily leave, might she add.
"It's way creepy, Jeff. You sure you don't have like a lost, evil twin-brother where you two got separated at birth-sort of thing going on?" 013 whispered back to him, her hand gesturing between the two males.
"What, no? I'm pretty sure I would've known if I had a twin. Besides, if we were twins, it's obvious who was born with the good looks."
"So that explains why you're so ugly, then. Tucker stole all the good genes."
"… Really, Tutes? What kind of best friend are you?"
"The honest kind." 013 grinned.
"Touché."
"Did I just out-sass you? Fuck me, that's rare, that calls for celebration!"
"Better celebrate quickly then, before genocide gets us."
"Oh wow, playing the genocide card, are we? Buzzkill, nothing ruins my mood than knowing I can't do jackshit in this war… " 013's good mood soured then, and she heaved a deep sigh.
"Ah shit… I'm sorry, Tutes. Didn't mean to bring your good mood down." Jeff winced at having suffered foot-in-mouth syndrome by bringing up a rather sensitive subject. However, he wasn't her best friend for nothing, he knew just the thing that would brighten her mood right back up.
"Hey, watch this." Jeff suddenly pushed the wheelie that held the mop bucket closer towards Tucker, it previously having been parked next to them. A bad decision, really.
Said marine currently had his back towards them, fully focused on scrubbing the underside of the facet.
"Hey, Tucker!" Jeff called out from the doorway.
"… Yeah?" Came Tucker's muffled reply, as he hadn't turned towards them yet, his persistent nature keeping him from pausing in his action of cleaning.
"You missed a spot a little to the right." Tucker frowned at that, thinking how the hell did he miss a spot, he was sure he scrubbed the right side just fine… He shifted his footing to check.
Which only led to a number of things.
One, his foot landed on a particular wet spot, because he had just cleaned there with his sponge, in which said sponge had left a remarkable puddle.
Secondly, as his foot landed in the puddle, the terrified facial expression on Tucker's face as he slowly realized that he was heading south, along with the desperate grasping of the facet – and failing miserably because he had slippery cleaning gloves on – had Jeff almost blowing his casket then and there.
Thirdly, as well as lastly, when Tucker landed right into the mop bucket, the marine's facial expression just got even worse as he noticed his clothes quickly getting wet because what he thought would be the floor, was very much not the floor, but the mop bucket that Jeff had skidded across the room.
It had 013 grasping the doorway in a desperate attempt to keep herself standing as she laughed, hard.
Least to say, she had much bigger success in keeping herself stable in comparison to the soldier who's currently taking a quick bath.
In a mop bucket.
That had been used to clean the stalls of the toilets.
013 laughed harder.
"That was golden, Jeff!" She slapped her best friend in the back. Jeff only grinned widely at her much brighter mood. He knew it would work. A prank always did.
"Glad to have you back, Tutes, was getting worried for a sec there that you would've become sour Doc."
"Hell Jeff, I thought I was bad. Turns out you're worse than me." 013 inhaled air like she hadn't done anything else in her life after her laugh attack. She hadn't exactly focused on breathing after watching that whole ordeal play out.
"Alright Tucker, bath's over, get out of there." 013 walked forward, her hand reaching out to help the marine out of the mop bucket. The thought of dropping him back in crossed her mind, but she decided against it. He had already given them enough entertainment for today. After all, he was cleaning the stalls for her, seeing that she was on cleaning duty that week, and she'd conveniently let it slip to Tucker. He was quick to figure out that if he wanted their relationship to reach a friendship, doing her cleaning duty was on the list of things to compensate for his previous shitty behavior.
Very convenient, indeed.
"Is this like a casual thing that happens in your company?" Tucker asked while he wrung out as much water as possible from his clothes.
"Yeah, kinda. My and Jeff's friendship basically consists of 90% pranks, doesn't it, my dude?"
"You sure it's not 95%? I kinda feel like its 95%, I can't for the life of me figure out what the other 10% is."
"The other 10% is playing pranks on others, and starting food wars. Oh, and secrecy."
"… Don't you mean loyalty?"
"No, pretty sure I mean secrecy."
"How dare you keep secrets from me, Tutes!?"
"Oh, forgive me if I have some self-preservation! Can't have you spilling your guts about every aspect of my life when you get a little too drunk, Jeff."
"Who says I do that?"
"I do, Jeff, I do."
"Pretty sure you're wrong and it's the other way around."
"What makes you say that?"
"Didn't you steal the com from one of my teammates at the last Capture the Flag-game we had during shore-leave, and broadcasted to the whole team that my favourite pair of boxers are my pink ones with love hearts on them?"
"… Oh. That. I was just trying to build up some camaraderie with your pals, what's wrong with that?"
"Pretty sure I had that handled."
"Pff, as your best friend it's my duty to-"
Nu-uh, you're not playing the "as my best friend it's my duty"-card, it's too late for that."
"Well, then… Uh, I'm sorry?"
"Apology not accepted. Now, should we maybe get Tucker here a change of clothes before your Commander comes back?"
"Right, yeah, we should do that. C'mon Tucker, let's slip out of here."
Tucker stared at her.
"Did you just-"
013 sent him another grin.
"Yeah, I did."
The trio from that point on knew that a certain dynamic had been established between them, and 013 had accepted the fact that she was okay with Tucker's company. He was surprisingly easy to get along with, too. Perhaps she could call him a friend one day, after all.
Flashback End-
"Alright, why not." 013 finally replied, nodding her head. Tucker smiled in response, relieved that she hadn't said no.
"Meet up at the entrance? I gotta fetch my gear. I feel like practicing stabbing today."
At that, Tucker found himself second-guessing whether or not he wanted to come along.
"… Did I do something again, or is there any particular reason that I should know about as to why you want to practice stabbing?"
"Nah, it's just been a while since I practiced using weapons, I was planning on hitting the shooting range tomorrow. You wanna be target practice?" 013 shot him a smirk, knowing full well that he was fidgeting due to her choices in training.
"I-ah, rather not, actually." Tucker's hand came up to massage the back of his neck in a show of nervousness. 013's smirk widened.
"Awh too bad, you're getting shot at anyway. I was just asking to be nice, you weren't actually really being given an option to say no." 013 patted him in mock apology on the back. Tucker just grimaced, having already foreseen her answer. He's gotten to know her well enough that kindness wasn't her strongest suit. However… she'd just given him an opportune moment to reverse-uno the conversation, for once.
"Alright then, what kind of target practice do you have in mind?"
013 lifted her eyebrows up in surprise. She had not seen that coming.
"Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no. You've spent too much time with Jeff, I'm not having another friend who does those dirty insinuations to literally any context. One of you is enough, find something else." 013 held her hands up in the air, signifying that she did not want to go near any of that, nor have a doppelganger of her best friend.
Tucker however, didn't listen to the rest of what she had been saying, instead, he smiled a genuine smile, and glanced at 013 with a soft look in his eyes.
"That's the first time you've referred to me as a friend."
013's own eyes widened in what he only assumed what shock.
So, she hadn't been aware that she had indirectly just confirmed their friendship. Not that it mattered to him, because he'd take it in any way, shape or form that he could.
"Yeah, well, don't get used to it… " 013 muttered under her breath, before quickening her pace.
"Cya outside the gym in 15!" Then she turned the corner, and was officially out of sight. The remaining marine shook his head at how awkwardly she'd handled her slip-up.
He was only happy that she didn't try to backtrack.
'At least I'm actually doing progress in making up for all the things I've caused her… '
Time Skip-
013 was nervous. And with nervous, she meant it in a 'hey-I'm-going-to-die-of-heart-palpitation'-nervous.
Blue Team was on their way back to the Infinity, after weeks of being planet-side.
Jeff had just delivered the news, having met up with her at the Mess Hall for lunch. Tucker had left to do… something, he never clarified, to which 013 had found it slightly suspicious. Somehow, her mind was convincing her that it had something to do with Team Airhead and Co., and he didn't want her to know. She'd have to ask him about it later.
Speaking of them…
They had been rather quiet lately. She sent a quick glance to the tables where the ODST:s usually hung out.
'Yupp, they're there. No surprise.'
Before she could look away however, the leader of the gang, Chad, she called him - had noticed her looking over at them. Immediately his face twisted into a sneer and he mimed something to her.
Hag.
013 almost smiled, finding it comical, but forced the corners of her lips to remain neutral. Instead, she mimed back.
Pussy.
Chad apparently didn't like it, his brow furrowing up so it almost resembled a fucked up bird's nest, his face clear as day showcasing his feelings of utter contempt that he had for her general existence. And because he was irrevocably un-original, he'd proceeded to flip her the traditional bird. To that, 013 couldn't contain her laugh any longer, and she burst out, almost howling.
"What's so funny?" Jeff turned around in confusion, looking to where 013 had been staring for a while.
"Dickless over there started something, so I just paid him a compliment, is all. Seemed he didn't agree with me, though." Jeff's eyebrow arched.
"What'd you call him?"
"A pussy." 013 smirked, eyes ablaze with mirth. Jeff chuckled, before reaching over and ruffling her hair.
"Of course you did. What don't you do for your fanbase, right?"
Conveniently, a marine walked by them.
013 suddenly had a very not-so-bright idea.
"Hey!" She called to the soldier, who stopped in her tracks, looking over her shoulder confusedly. 013 waved at her, gesturing for the marine to come to the table. A momentary internal conversation later, and the female marine finally approached them. 013 could see the doubt in the woman's face, so she quickly reached into the back pocket of her standard-issued UNSC pants, and pulled out a portion of her winnings from the morning poker game. 013 waved the money enticingly in front of the marine.
"The 20 dollars are yours if you would do something real simple for me, promise."
Not being able to say no to what basically was free money, the marine indulged 013 and listened to what she had in mind.
Soon enough, the marine was walking over to the ODST-gang that she so ever-lovingly hated. She clasped her hands under her chin, leaning her elbows onto the table while waiting for the whole scene to unfold.
"Watch this, Jeff."
It started with the girl tapping Chad on his shoulder, to which the buff egomaniac twisted around to see who wanted his attention. Immediately, he plastered what 013 figured he found to be a flirty smirk but was really just slimy, and fired up a conversation with the female marine. It was obvious that he was trying hard, thinking he really even had a chance with the marine, who was feigning flirting back due to 013's plan.
A few seconds ticked by before the marine finally slipped him the note that 013 had scribbled something on, before walking away, not giving Chad enough time to unfold the note in her presence. 013 grinned evilly, knowing that the marine most likely thought he'd just been given her number.
Oh, how wrong he was in that assumption.
013 could literally see how his face shifted between all the colours of red, before his gaze, now absolutely furious, looked up, obviously looking for hers – to which 013 met his gaze head on.
She had a shit-eating grin on full display.
The ODST gang all rose, and at first 013 thought they'd head to her table and actually start something, but they had simply turned into the direction of the Mess Hall doors instead and no less than stormed out.
Jeff's expression was priceless, 013 noticed, when she looked over at him. His mouth was gaping, eyes wide in disbelief and eyebrows hiked so far up they could've been mistaken for his new hairline. He turned his astonished gaze to her, blinking slowly.
"What… just happened?"
"Oh, nothing big. I might've just scribbled down a little note for him, reminding him of his nonexistent superiority over me."
"What did it say?"
"Take a picture, it'll last longer than you."
Had Jeff been taking a sip of water at that particular moment, that sip would've cascaded all over 013.
His booming laughter echoed throughout the whole Mess Hall.
They resumed conversation, talking for a little while longer before finally rising and leaving their trays to get taken care of, now heading towards the Recreations room.
"You still haven't told me anything about Blue Team coming back on-board. How you feelin'?" Jeff popped the question she thought she had successfully avoided.
Apparently not.
013 sighed. What was there to say? She was nervous as hell – there was no manual or guidelines to how you're supposed to handle a falling out… that wasn't a really falling out because why else did she have the Chief's dog-tag hanging around her neck? Reaching for it, she let her thumb slowly follow the engraved letters and numbers.
The only thing she felt about it, besides the obvious nervousness, was confusion and… hurt.
It hurt at how confusing it has become. She wanted them to be friends, wanted them to go back to how it was before but, how? Was that even possible now? Hasn't too much transpired that it would be impossible to even attempt to go back to how it was? The friendship she had with them was different now, but how different?
They were out of the loop with her life, just like she most likely was with theirs. She hadn't communicated with them at all while they had been away, and now that was ironically coming to bite her in the ass.
Well, possibly. It all really depends on how they react to meeting her again.
And the fact that there was a whole new dynamic going on now, with their lack of presence. For starters, Tucker was a part of her life now, in some way. She's gotten to know a few other marines that didn't seem to judge her for simply being, well, her. At least, she didn't think so, usually they'd scoff at her or ignore her or something, but Private Evans and Private Thompson had seemed to be just fine with her.
It made her question if, during all this time, if she'd approached other fellow marines and soldiers – would they have really turned her away? Maybe it just was the ODST:s that Chad and his limp dick-crew had wrapped around their little finger that were biased?
She's started to build up something where the Spartans weren't playing a major role anymore.
But it didn't mean that she didn't want them to because… 013 tensed her jaw, clamping her teeth together. Her hands momentarily formed into fists, her gaze glassing over, and her heart feeling heavy in her chest.
To her, she still felt like they could be a family. Her family.
But everything is just so complicated right now.
A defeated sigh left her lips.
"I honestly don't know, Jeff. There's just so much confusion going on and… " 013 shrugged, not knowing how to finish her sentence.
He seemed to get it though, because he slung an arm over her shoulders.
"It'll be okay, Tutes. Things will fall into place soon enough, and you can go back to planning your wedding with-oof." 013's elbow flew into his side, causing him to abruptly stop talking and all the air to leave his lungs.
"If you know what's best for you, you will not finish that sentence."
Jeff only pulled her closer, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
"Joking aside, I promise, Tutes, it'll work itself out eventually. All the quirks and the confusion, you've become too close to the Spartans for it to just disappear like nothing's happened. If I'm to be honest, I think you've impacted their life just as much as they have impacted yours."
013 glanced at her best friend.
"You really think so?" Jeff smiled.
"I know so."
Some time passed in between then, hours ticking well into the evening, before she finally got the dreaded ping from Casey.
Blue Team had officially returned to the Infinity.
So naturally, she was hiding out – on the Bridge this time.
Not that it was much of a hiding spot but, the view of space passing them by had a calming effect on her. Seeing Meridian from the ship's view caused a pang of longing to wash over her, and 013's shoulders sank.
She really missed having her boots on the ground. She loved being in space, but there was nothing that beat the action that took place planet-side. So lost in thought, 013 missed the noise of the door sliding open.
"Missing being out there, aren't you." Came a voice suddenly from behind her. 013 flinched, unprepared for the sudden break in the silence. She found herself quickly, though.
"… Yeah." 013 answered, her gaze remaining on the planet that was on the other side of the window.
"There wasn't much to miss on Meridian, I can tell you that much." Frederic's rich gravel voice was a welcoming voice to hear. She had missed it, she really had. A smile tugged on her lips at his response.
"Except for another crazy A.I. and the fact that we need 3 keys and not just the one? Yeah, I heard about that." 013 chuckled lightly, her arms coming to cross in front of chest, her hip jotting out in her signature stance.
"I didn't hear about how Lasky reacted to you bringing it on-board, though. How did that conversation go down?" Now it was Frederic's turn to chuckle.
"Not that great, I reckon. It was the Chief who had to inform the Captain. We all could hear Roland in the background complaining about how he had to babysit two A.I.:s instead of one. Not that he did much babysitting beforehand. If I remember correctly, you hogged that A.I. all to yourself."
013 blushed, feeling embarrassed, and a tad bit guilty.
"Yeah well, no one complained and it was great company. We gossiped as if we had known each other our whole lives. Beats Jeff's company at times."
"Does it now?" Frederic glanced over at her, one of his eyebrows arching. 013 met his gaze from her peripherals.
"Yeah. I can't exactly gossip about girl stuff to Jeff, and Casey… she's too much of a workaholic. Don't get me wrong, they're both amazing friends but, at the end of the day it was nice having someone that wasn't… human, to talk to." 013 quieted down considerably at the last part of her sentence, as she realized it could come out very wrong.
The Spartan seemed to have picked up on it, too.
"It's alright, I know what you mean. Chief described something similar to use once, when he first got Cortana. Sometimes you just need that sort of non-judgmental company. We all do." Upon hearing that, 013 let out a breath of relief.
"Doesn't always have to be an A.I. though, you know that, right?" 013 shot him a meaningful glance, hoping he'd read in-between the words. She couldn't find it in herself to convey it directly, as she was still feeling all too much confused about her relation to them.
But she never questioned Frederic's ability of being non-judgmental. Especially towards her.
The Spartan met her gaze and the tips of his lips curved upwards.
That was all the answer she needed.
"So how was your trip?" 013 changed subjects.
"I think I need someone to take a sledgehammer to my back, the rocky terrain not particularly favorable to sleep on."
"No? How did… the ONI agent fare in all that?" 013 really tried to keep the disdain out of her voice when she asked. Not that she wouldn't feel slightly happy at the woman's misery, because she would.
"I could write a book about all the complaints I heard." Frederic smirked down at her.
A moment of silent washed over them then, both just enjoying the other's company, succumbing to the enchanting view before them.
"Where's the rest of your team?" 013 asked, breaking the silence, curiosity overcoming her.
"I believe they went to freshen up." The female marine eyed Frederic's armour-clad body, his helmet the only thing that he'd taken off, said helmet being held off to the side.
"So why didn't you?" The teal-Spartan turned to face her. She followed suit, mimicking his movements.
"That didn't escape you, did it. Truthfully, I wanted to check in on you. I was worried that something would happen to you, however, agent Mitchell kept us informed that you were doing alright." Frederic paused, seemingly pondering over something.
"We were also told that you have recruited a new friend, someone who was part of… Team Airhead, was it?"
"Team Airhead and Co.." 013 quietly corrected him. The female soldier had tensed up as soon as he brought it up, her fingers reaching up to fidget with the dog-tag around her neck. Her gaze was directed towards the floor.
"How come?" Frederic tilted his head, his eyes studying the female before him. He didn't miss the grip she had of his leader's dog-tag. 013 was silent for a moment, most likely figuring out how to answer his question.
"Well, it wasn't exactly a planned… friendship." She caught herself on the last word.
"He was very adamant to apologize for all the shit he's caused me. He wanted to make it up to me, even left his buddies just to show me that he was serious. Ever since then, he's just been this annoying leech that just wouldn't quit, so now we've sort of come to terms that we might become friends after all." 013 shrugged, before grimacing.
"Truth be told, it's like having another copy of Jeff around."
"Oh, that's rough."
"Tell me about it."
"So you are doing okay then." Frederic asked, the question rather rhetorical – a statement, yet 013 for some reason felt like she should come forward with what she was feeling.
Feeling about the whole… Spartan-ordeal that had spun around for so long in her head. Maybe now was the time to address the figurative elephant in the room – at least, the figurative elephant that was in the room with her, not necessarily with Frederic, or any of the other Spartans.
"I think I am." She said first, then:
"But I miss you guys. I really do, it isn't the same when you guys aren't around. It's… " 013 paused, brow furrowing. She couldn't find the words. Ironic. The one time she wanted to say something, she couldn't.
"Lonely?" Frederic gently asked, his gaze seeking out hers. She swallowed.
"… Yeah. I feel like a part of me is… missing, when you guys aren't around." The teal Spartan hummed, before a hand slowly came up to land on her shoulder. The weight that settled there, had her heaving a rather relieving breath, a breath she hadn't known that she had held in.
"I have felt the same, babycakes." He said in reply, before pulling the form of 013 towards him. Her arms laced themselves around his body, her hands latching onto parts of his armour, holding onto him. He gently stroked her hair, his chin coming to rest on the top of her head.
"We all have." He murmured.
The heartfelt moment lasted a few more seconds, the gentle patting on top of her head such a soothing experience. However, 013 then slowly pulled away. He saw that her hand came up to swipe at her face, wiping her tears away. He made one last pat on top of her head.
"Alright, I think it's time for me to get out of this armour, so I will catch you in a bit." The Spartan turned to leave, waving a good-bye in the process before leaving 013 to her own devices.
The female soldier returned her gaze back to space after the door slid shut, officially once again alone with her thoughts. She found that they weren't in as much disarray as they previously had been. It felt like the puzzle that was her life was finally coming together, in small bits and pieces.
'Maybe what Jeff said is true… it'll all eventually be okay.'
Suddenly, the door to the Bridge whooshed open, again, and 013 chuckled lightly to herself.
"Did you forget some…thing… " Her sentence died out, because as she spun around, her gaze directed towards the door, fully expecting a teal-coloured Spartan - the person walking in wasn't Frederic.
It was the Chief.
013 inhaled sharply, her eyes blinking in surprise. The word itself might as well have been physically written across her face, that's the level of surprise she was currently feeling.
A quiet "… Chief…" exited through her lips.
Said Spartan was dressed in standard-issued UNSC clothes, just like her, but for some reason the white t-shirt he was wearing didn't really do his body much justice. A little voice in her head whispered that he would look better without it on - she quickly shut said voice down.
"Hey…" 013 awkwardly greeted when the enigmatic Spartan finally came to a stop, just a mere meter away from her.
He didn't respond, instead, his gaze simply bore into hers. His eyes were unreadable, 013 couldn't figure out what kind of emotion was playing in his ocean-blue orbs. She swallowed, the ever familiar lump forming in her throat. And like she'd done earlier today, on several occasions even, her fingers reached for the all too familiar dog-tag hanging around her neck. Fidgeting with it always helped with the anxiety, not that she knew why.
013 completely missed how the Chief's gaze momentarily flickered from her face to where her fingers were playing with his dog-tag.
Tracing the etched in markings of the tag, her grey orbs suddenly filled with realization. Rather late realization, too.
"Oh, right, you probably want this back… " 013 quickly lifted the dog-tag up from around her neck, before reaching out with her hand towards the Spartan to which it belonged. She'd for a moment forgotten that the dog-tag actually belonged to someone else, and that someone was now in front of her.
The Chief still didn't say anything, remaining silent. However, his own hand did come up, grasping hers. 013 felt her pulse quicken at the touch, his warmth seeping through her skin as if someone was holding a hot poker against her. Her breath hitched at the unexpected physical touch.
But instead of taking the dog-tag from her, the Spartan decidedly curled her fingers back into the form of a fist, the dog-tag still within her grasp. 013's eyes flicked down to watch his hand, wondering why he didn't take it.
While holding her hand, he suddenly shifted his grip, his thumb coming up to her wrist. He brushed over her pulse, very much feeling it racing under the pad of his thumb.
Then he spoke.
"Why is your pulse racing this high?" The Chief murmured, his deep, raspy voice causing involuntary shivers to run down 013's spine. His touch on her skin was just like liquid fire, and it was doing things to her. The butterflies that usually just fluttered around in her abdomen, now roared into a circus-show.
"No particular reason…" 013 mumbled quietly, awkwardly, the female soldier's breathing picking up. She was lying through her teeth, because there was only one reason why her heart was on the edge of a heart-attack – the towering, powerful Spartan before her the one and only reason. She had formed an attachment to him, one that was irreversible - and these feelings within her… She couldn't deny them anymore. She recognized them for what they were, though she refused to name them.
It would only hurt more when the inevitable happened.
Even though Cortana had said that she could-no, was, his soulmate.
But how did that help, when the things he might or might not experience are things he's never experienced before, his sole purpose for so long being to fight – how could Cortana know that he saw her as his soulmate?
Just because she could admit that, didn't mean he would.
'Or could…'
And secondly - just because a smart A.I. had told her that, didn't mean it would actually happen. This man before her, he was… an enigma, a living legend.
And someone that impossibly would want her in his life as intimately as she herself so hopelessly wanted.
"You're lying." The Chief's blunt statement broke through the haze that had settled over her mind. She had disappeared there for a moment, and her expression portrayed her shock very evidently. She was just becoming even more foolish the longer she stood here, in his presence.
"W-why… why would I be lying? I'm not?" Man, she absolutely sucked at keeping up her rickety façade of pretending nothing was wrong. Her body was so obviously being a traitor to her.
"Another lie. Try again." His thumb switched to run circles on her wrist in soft motions instead of just stroking the skin there.
'Oh man…' 013 was losing her composure so quickly. His thumb… It was doing sinful things to her body, the liquid heat having spread to envelop her whole core tightened at the sensations that the Spartan was causing, her toes curling.
"I… " She didn't know what to say. What could she say?
'Hey Chief, I ah, I have a massive crush on you and uh, yeah, take me?'
013 internally scoffed.
Not a chance in hell.
Besides, that sounded way too erotic for what she thought she could ever say to this particular Spartan's face.
She could feel the smouldering intensity of the Chief's gaze on her. Knowing it could very much unravel her right on the spot, she still let her eyes slowly drag themselves up to meet his.
He was most definitely watching her intensely, she discovered. In an effort to alleviate some of the internal struggle she was feeling, she rolled her shoulder, thinking that body exertion might just distract her some.
It didn't.
What it did do, however, was shift the Spartan's gaze to the shoulder she had moved.
Which left her to contemplate just what was going on inside his mind. Her eyes widened.
'Is he…' 013 followed the Chief's line of sight.
Her jaw tensed.
He'd noticed the scar she had there, that's why he was… staring.
'Does he even think I'm attractive? With all these scars that I have…' There were a lot of soldiers during her lifetime that had grimaced, and not in a good way, at the scars that marred her body whenever they got a glimpse of them. It never bothered her much, because to her scars told stories, and they were a part of her just as much as her unmarred skin was. But now suddenly under the scrutiny of a Spartan ll, childlike insecurities were working their way to the front of her mind.
The Spartan before her suddenly tilted his head, and his hand that had grasped her wrist, came up to touch the exposed skin at her shoulder. Particularly, his fingers were brushing against the raised skin there.
Against the scar.
It had come from a stab wound made by an Elite. She breathed in deeply as the memory resurfaced. An Elite had gotten the drop on her from her sniper-position, where his sword had pierced through her armour as well as the bodysuit underneath only to dig into the flesh of her chest and shoulder. The piercing pain that had flashed through her system, setting her nerves on fire, kick-started her into an adrenaline rush, causing her to kick the Elite away from her. Though, the damage had already been done - the two searing puncture wounds left behind will always remind her of staying alert and watching her own six at all times.
A lesson hard learnt.
The soft caressing by the Chief's rough hand felt so good, and was all too distracting, she almost forgot to give an answer to his unspoken question.
"An Elite…" She murmured.
The Chief only nodded, a quiet hum passing through his lips. She felt how his eyes swept over her form, scanning for more scars. He was internally mapping her out now.
There was another hard swallow and she inhaled deeply. The shifting of her feet caused the Spartan to return his attention to her eyes.
"Don't hide them. Your scars."
013 blinked at him, his words taking a while to register within her mind.
"I don't try to hide them, not intentionally, but… Some people don't really understand that scars speak a lot about one's character… They, ah, tend to scare people off, I guess. They're not used to women throwing themselves headfirst into battle like I do." She chuckled awkwardly, shrugging her shoulders.
"Some people?" The Chief questioned, wanting clarification. For what though, 013 didn't really know. Nonetheless, she indulged him.
"Yeah, 'some people' as in just about anybody who doesn't know me. Passer-by's, sparring partners, civilians… List goes on." 013 responded. However, this time she let her gaze sweep over the Spartan's own body, like he had done to hers moments ago.
She denied that she was outright ogling him.
"Do… Do people stare at you too? Because of your scars, I mean."
The Chief seemed to think for a moment, his eyes blinking a few times before voicing a reply to her question.
A question she was unsure was appropriate to ask someone like him. She knew the Spartans, especially the Spartan ll:s, had a lot of scars just from the way they were brought up. They were experiments, so they were bound to have scars from such an upbringing.
After all, she had a few from such causes herself.
"I get stares for just being a Spartan ll. It's difficult to determine their reason, there's too many."
Upon hearing that, 013 felt a wave of sadness wash over her. He was being brutally honest – there were just so many reasons as to why he, or anyone in his team, really, got stared at.
Suddenly, 013 felt guilty.
"I'm sorry for asking… It was inappropriate of me." 013 turned her gaze down, watching her boots instead, rocking back and forth on her heels. She felt so ashamed.
Suddenly, her chin was forcefully being pulled upwards, the Chief's fingers grasping her firmly. Her eyes sparkled with confusion, staring questioningly at the Chief.
"Don't apologize. It's not your fault."
Still keeping his grip on her chin, he leaned down, levelling his gaze with hers. She felt his breath fan her face, he was that close.
"Your scars only make you more special."
Then he pulled his hand away and took a step backwards. However, he didn't seem to be done with his unpredictable behaviour, for he continued talking.
"The dog-tag-" He nodded at her fisted hand.
"-it suits you."
And with that, the Chief turned and left, putting an end to their interaction. While she stood there in all her confused glory, disbelief conveyed in everything from body language to her facial futures, the Chief's lips curved slightly upwards, forming a smirk that if she had seen it, she would have fallen apart at this feet.
To say that 013 stood paralyzed long after the Spartan had left was an understatement. She was stuck, locked within her thoughts from what had just transpired between her and the Chief.
First, she questioned whether or not that had actually happened, or if she had finally become clinically insane and started hallucinating things?
Secondly, did the Chief even know what he'd done to her? Or was he so oblivious to the concept of physical touch that he couldn't for the life of him know that sometimes he's oozing sex appeal? Even doing the simplest of actions like walking, could have females clenching their thighs and biting their lips. Even a sideways glance from him could have 013 swallowing thickly, her head spinning and heart racing underneath her ribcage.
And all he had done was literally glance. Glance!
How the hell can something as innocent like a glance cause such a reaction within her?
013's placed a hand against her forehead, confirming that she was, in fact, as feverish as she felt.
'This man… Is going to be my ruination.'
Time Skip-
It was the next day, and 013 was at the shooting range, like she'd said yesterday, doing target practice.
And like she also said, Tucker was the poor sacrifice that she had roped into being her opponent. Currently, she was crouched behind one of the half-walls that were strewn around inside the shooting range arena, her head peeking out lightly to scan the surroundings in front of her.
"C'mon Tucker, isn't this fun!?" 013 exclaimed with a shrill voice, the joy evident in her tone. To say that she loved laser-tag was obvious, and it had been so long since she'd been able to play. One, she only had Jeff as her friend on this whole ship, and his Commander was running him ragged, not often leaving him much free-time. Add rehabilitation for his tin-arm. Two, memory loss happened. Three, genocide news had her distracted to the point of only managing to take out her aggression onto punching bags. Four, she only had Jeff.
Five – well, everything that had happened in between. There was simply a lot that had transpired, all equal reasons to why she hadn't hung out at the laser-tag arena.
Six, did she mention she only had Jeff?
Casey didn't count, because that woman hated laser-tag, preferring the actual shooting range with bullseyes. It was the only thing fun to shoot, in her opinion.
013 obviously disagreed with her.
However, now all that had changed, because now she had Tucker, and Tucker was good enough company for her to drag with her to the arena.
In fact, she knew he was most likely enjoying himself too, even though he tried to hide it with his act of misery-charade.
"I would think it's unfair that you gave yourself grenades, and I didn't get any." Tucker's voice echoed through the arena, and 013 chuckled.
She might've played a prank and given herself an unfair advantage of dummy grenades that would create a red circle in the area it landed, signifying its range of reach. If you were in the circle by the time it started flashing, well…
May you rest in peace. Figuratively.
An hour flew by and Tucker finally called for a truce.
"Alright, I'm beat. I think I've had enough for the AM, how does lunch sound?" Tucker asked as they marched back towards the area where they'd borrowed the simulation gear.
"Sure buddy, I was getting hungry anyway. What's the slop of the day today, you know yet?"
"If they give us more one more day of meatloaf in a row I'm going to put salt and pepper on my own boots and chew them for dinner."
013 laughed, the imagery of such a thing being hilarious.
"It has the same texture, doesn't it?"
"I'm inclined to say my boots have better context than their excuse of meatloaf." Tucker sighed, rolling his shoulder. 013 noticed the slight wince that flickered by on Tucker's face.
"You okay there?"
"Yeah… just a stiff shoulder from training, don't worry about it."
013 didn't prod, but the way he'd said that… She narrowed her eyes slightly. She didn't like the way he sounded so evasive.
'I'll keep an eye out… '
She had been a bit afraid for Tucker ever since he officially left Team Airhead and Co., she knew they could be ruthless, and it wouldn't be beneath them to come after one of their own if they had deserted them.
A group of soldiers passed them by then, whispering excitedly. 013 turned her attention towards the group, wondering what could have them in such a cheerful mood.
"Guys, the yearly dodgeball tournament is coming up, I'm so excited!"
"Hell yeah! Reckon they'll have some sort of special event like they did last time?"
"I hope so. Man, I wonder how if the Spartans will join… "
"Dunno, it would probably be unfair to the other teams who don't have a Spartan."
"Yeah, wouldn't wanna go up against a Spartan ll, they're scary… "
013 tuned out of the conversation as they got further away, but her eyes had widened remarkably.
It was the yearly dodgeball tournament, she had completely forgotten about that!
"Tucker, we're going to the Mess Hall right now, I need to find some people, ASAP!" 013 started jogging, or well, she was practically almost running, but held herself back just enough.
It wasn't enough apparently, because the Drill Sergeant in charge of the simulations that day yelled at her.
"What do we say, marine!? Don't run with a gun!" 013 winced, glancing down at her hands. Right, she had forgotten to drop off the gun.
Old habits die hard, she was so used to always carrying her gun. A zing of pain shot through her chest at that - she really missed wearing her armour and using her own weapons. Nothing could compare to the feeling of her own gear.
"Oh, yeah, sorry Sergeant Nichols, won't happen again!" 013 apologized to the female Sergeant, rushing back to place the gun in its rightful place before resuming her goal of reaching the Mess Hall in record timing. Thinking that Tucker is being too slow, she wrapped her hand around his wrist and forcefully pulled him along.
"Get a move on, slowpoke, you're walking slower than Jeff's granny, and she's ninety!"
In no time, they were almost storming through the Mess Hall doors, 013' gaze like a metal detector, scanning the room with only one goal – to find Jeff, Casey and the Spartan gang.
Her eyes found them at their typical spot, that is, the table they always sat at, and 013 smiled widely. However, her smile fell slightly when she noticed the all too familiar blonde mop of hair poking up between the humongous bodies of the Spartans.
She looked tiny sitting next to them.
'Like an ant.. ' 013 snickered to herself.
Deciding to ignore the ONI agent, because honestly, she had much more important things to worry about that some measly soldier who thought she was Miss America, 013 jogged her way up to them.
"Guys!" She hollered, waving at them as all heads swivelled towards her when hearing her calling out to them. To say that her stomach fluttered and toes almost curling, again, as the Chief's gaze landed on her would be a lie. She noticed how the corner of the Chief's lip lightly curled upwards, and she faltered in her step.
She knew that that smile was only reserved for her, because not once had she seen him give that smile to anyone else, his team excluded. A warm feeling enveloped her body from the inside out, and her eyes crinkled at the corners as she sent him a warm, gentle smile in kind.
Yes, her life seemed to be falling into place, it seemed, if it was going to continue going like this.
It was like they had a clean slate, all the previous drama and worry simply being shoved under a mat.
Shaking her head to bring herself back to the moment, she finally reached them, coming to a stop at the edge of the table.
She still had Tucker in tow while manoeuvring herself around, but he had yet to complain.
From nowhere, 013 slammed her hands down onto the table, no less than demanding their attention. Jeff, flinching at her action, cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Yes, miss violent? What's the newscast today?"
013 grinned a huge grin, eyes travelling over everyone.
"It's the yearly dodgeball tournament, guys." She sent Jeff a competitive glare.
"You're going down this year, Jefferson." Jeff however, only replicated his friend's grin. He knew that the only time she called him by his full name was when it was about something really serious. So naturally, he responded by pretending to flip an imaginary ponytail.
"Girl, you can dream."
"You got lucky last year, my teammates sucked absolute donkey-ass. What were they thinking, standing out in the open like they were pretending to be trees in a theatre-show or some shit… Idiots." 013 grumbled, complaining, her face twisting into a grimace reflecting just how horribly she felt about last year's tournament.
It had gone completely to shit, and she was so pissed that she went into a figurative murder spree on the sandbags in the gym for days.
"Better count your lucky stars, my friend, because you just ran out."
While the two friends bickered over the last year's competition, Tucker shifted rather awkwardly at his spot behind 013, his gaze travelling over the companions of the female soldier. And as if 013 knew of his growing uncomfortableness, she grabbed a hold of his wrist again, this time lifting it and shaking it in the air, doing some sort of awkward wave.
"This is Tucker by the way, y'all know him from being a part of the dickless-gang." 013 scratched the back of her neck then, suddenly feeling slightly nervous.
She hadn't told them that they had sort of become… comrades, while they had been gone.
"Yeah, uhm… He decided he wanted to upgrade his company, finally, and is currently on a mission to make it up to me for all the shit he's caused me." 013 started explaining. She was nearly stumbling over the words as her hands awkwardly gestured in front of her, having released Tucker's wrist from her imprisonment.
"Before you guys say anything, yes, he's apologized, and yes, Jeff and Casey are keeping an eye on him, and yes, he's not getting an easy time. But so far he's been good, so I don't think he has a hidden agenda." 013 sent him a meaningful glance, secretly warning him that he better not have a hidden agenda, as she was now officially vouching for him. She was putting her neck on the line for him, an unspoken action that spoke volumes to Tucker.
He could only nod, meeting her gaze head on, silently telling her that he wasn't planning a secret coup, or anything of the like.
No, all he wanted was to make up for his mistakes. The guilt of what he's done was eating away at him, and he couldn't live anymore with what kind of person he was becoming, thus, he made the decision to turn his life around.
And he felt better, knowing that he wasn't tormenting people like his previous friends had. He never got any joy from it, and he couldn't really understand how his then friends could derive joy from hurting others. To him it didn't make sense.
So he switched teams.
And he was already a better man for it.
013 returned her gaze to the people at the table, holding her breath before once again speaking up.
"I'm not holding a grudge against him anymore for what he has done to me, and I would appreciate it if you guys wouldn't either. I know it's much to ask but, please?" 013 pleaded, her eyes turning solemn. She really wanted this to work out, to make everything come full circle, because she hadn't felt this happy and serene for so long. And if she so happened to be dishonourably discharged then she wanted to make the most of the time she had left.
There was a baited silence in the air, the Spartans all silently communicating with each other by eye-contact alone.
Then there was a wave of nods, and 013's facial futures relaxed.
They had agreed.
013 shot one particular Spartan a glance, and was slightly shocked at the miniscule frown she saw. He was staring down into his food tray, and 013, not liking how he seemed so… she couldn't entirely understand the emotion, but she silently manoeuvred around Tucker, coming around to stand behind him. She placed a gentle hand on the Spartan's shoulder, to which he gazed at said hand before letting his eyes travel up her arm to finally meet her grey orbs. She had tilted her head, a questioning look on her face.
She was met with silence.
Nothing new.
So she did the next best thing.
Glaring at the female ONI agent, 013 almost hissed out the words "scoot". The female soldier didn't seem to understand first, but Jeff, who sat next to her, grabbed Stacey's arm and started pulling her in the direction of him, thus creating space between her and the Chief.
013 sent her best friend a thankful glance, and without any further ado, 013 slipped herself into the now vacant spot, officially placing herself next to the Chief.
Just like she had done so many months ago. She clearly remembered Frederic's comment - "You sure seem to have claimed the right to sit next to Master Chief in the mess hall quite often, Tutes."
She hadn't known it then, that she had actually acclimated herself into being the one that would sit next to him, and if she for some unknown reason ended up somewhere else, her appetite wasn't the same. 013 smiled a wistful smile.
She'd been so flustered then, and despite Frederic calling it out, with the Chief literally next to her, he hadn't reacted - at all. She always wondered what he thought about that incident. Maybe she would ask one day…
013 felt at ease sitting next to him now, compared to when she was flustered all the time. Well, if you discounted the butterflies. She was otherwise so at ease that she could've probably died right then and there with no regrets. Well, perhaps there would be one regret… Her eyes dragged themselves over the Spartan's form, silently observing him.
Having now officially reclaimed her spot, she shifted her gaze around the table, taking in how Tucker had situated himself at the edge seat of the table on the opposite side - which happened to be next to Linda, and she almost chuckled at how nervous he was, sitting next to the empowering woman. She too would've been scared shitless if she had to sit next to Linda on the first day of coming into contact with the Spartan ll:s. 013 felt a wave of guilt wash over her for how she's forcing him through all this, but he was the one that wanted to become her friend.
Then this is would only be the first of many challenges. Becoming her friend would be a trial by fire, in the figurative sense. Hell, it could be literal too, it all depended on the context.
She redirected her gaze back to the Spartan whom she was close to canoodling. He still seemed tense. 'Too tense.'
She frowned. Recalling the rest of the conversation about 013 pretty much purchasing the rights to sitting next to the legendary Spartan, he'd remarked something else.
He had said she was their leader's bottle of chill pills - in a more eloquent way, of course.
'Time to test that theory.'
013 let her arm rise, her hand slowly reaching out in front of her. She placed it softly on the Spartan's forearm, as to not startle him. She then squeezed him lightly, giving him a reassuring grip. Immediately, she saw how his body seemed to physically unwind, his head shifting to look at where her hand was placed, before his eyes searched out hers. Her little science project gave results.
'Guess what Frederic said was true then. I am his personal bottle of chill pills.'
She sent him a small smile, and playfully nudged his shoulder. His gaze had yet to leave hers, even after a few moments passed, and 013 sent him a questioning look. 'Why's he staring so much?'
She had no idea what thoughts were running rampant within the Master Chief's mind, but she could clearly see the cog wheels turning inside.
She could only deduct that he seemed to contemplate something.
The Spartan tilted his head then. His eyes, it felt like they were pulling her in, because she couldn't break whatever trance that lay over them, his blue orbs simply burning into hers. Mesmerizing her.
A red tinge started to dust her cheeks the longer he kept staring, her smile turning uncertain.
Suddenly the Chief's other arm shifted, it previously having lain dormant on the table. It rose, turning, before it then enveloped the hand that was on his forearm. Hers, that is. Surprised, she momentarily shifted her eyes down to where he was now touching her.
His hand completely dwarfed hers, she absently noted.
The Spartan still hadn't shifted his gaze from the female marine, so he got a front row seat in seeing how her face fully lit up, now resembling that of a ripe tomato, and her gaze almost turning panicked. He hummed. To add to it all, he decidedly let his thumb slightly stroke her skin, just like he had done yesterday when he'd seen her on the Bridge.
Unbeknownst to 013, it wasn't lost on the Spartan that he seemed to cause her to blush rather frequently, especially whenever he was in close proximity. He did always tend to make her rather flustered in his company.
He decided he preferred it that way.
A voice broke through the supposed serendipity of their moment, a cough to her right bringing her attention to the rest of the company. As her eyes swept over the Spartans in front of her to do damage control, she noticed how Frederic shot her a knowing look, and Kelly had hiked her eyebrow up. Linda was smirking lightly at her. 013 shifted awkwardly.
There was a lot of damage.
'Fuck.'
"So, the dodgeball tournament. Y'all joining?" Jeff's question was directed towards the Spartans, to which they shrugged.
"We don't know if we are allowed to enter, it's an unfair advantage to have a Spartan on your team if the others don't." Frederic answered, his hand coming to grasp his chin in thought.
"What if it could be arranged?" Jeff countered, still adamant in his attempt of getting the Spartans aboard the dodgeball hype-train.
"I suppose if that happens, we might just join then." The dark-haired Spartan finally acknowledged the soldier's request of wanting them to join, a smirk gracing his lips.
"Yes!" Jeff pumped his cybernetic arm in the air, claiming his victory.
013 laughed at her best friend, feeling how her chest blossomed with warmth at how he also held such a love for the sport. It goes without saying that the two of them were infamous for their rivalry in the tournament.
013 completely ignored the scoff of the agent next to her. The blonde female had been staring daggers at her ever since she squeezed herself in-between the Spartan and her.
013 threw the agent a quick glance.
Said female seemed surprised that 013 had turned her attention to her, and quickly erased the sneer she had previously had.
013, however, had already noticed.
She leaned in towards the agent, her eyes narrowing.
"Don't think for a minute that you have had any leverage here."
The agent's eyes widened, shocked. Abruptly she turned her gaze away, deciding to focus on something else.
However, inside her mind, Stacey had plotted.
'You will find out soon enough how wrong you are, 013.'
Don't think I've forgotten how to leave cliff-hangers, y'all.