A/N: I've only seen the movie, so this is based on that. A ReaperOC, but give it a shot! I mean, it's Goat's sister...that family's BOUND to be interesting...; )

Blackbird
Chapter 1

Reaper sighed again as he ran a oil-slick cloth along his gun slide when he heard Portman's loud voice echo down the stairwell from Sarge's office. A moment later, a door slammed and Portman stormed down the stairwell, his face twisted with anger.

"Honestly, what the fuck does he think I am? A dog?" Portman complained to no one in particular.

Reaper noticed him grabbing his coat from one of the locker closets located against the wall, and put down his gun slide.

"Where are you going?" Reaper asked.

"To pick up our new God damned recruit. Where does it look like I'm going? The mall?" Portman sneered.

Reaper ignored the piss-poor attitude and returned to cleaning his gun. RRTS was to receive to new recruits within the next month. One, a Corporal Nat Cathers, and the other, a Private fresh out of training. Apparently one would be arriving today, as soon as Portman would get off his ass and go pick the new man up.

- - -

One hour later, the elevator rung in a mechanical melody upstairs, announcing the return of Portman and the arrival of the new recruit.

"Oh, you're gonna love this!" Portman called out to the men as he stepped out of the elevator and headed for the stairwell that led to the main barracks.

Nat Cathers, a few paces behind him, let out a sigh. Portman hadn't shut up - or stopped glaring - since he'd picked her up from the transport. She was used to being hassled about her gender because she had chosen a profession that most women wouldn't take, but that hadn't stopped her from rising to the rank of Corporal, either. Still, Portman was getting on her last nerves.

Duffel bag in hand - her only possession in the army life - she walked up to the stairwell and descended the steps at a measured pace. Usually, she could deal with a team of testosterone-driven special ops soldiers giving her a hard time about the fact that she was female, but after having to endure Portman for an hour, she was close to fed up. All she wanted was to report into her new CO and sleep. The flight over the Atlantic from her home in England had been exhausting enough. She hadn't slept in the last thirty-six hours.

"Where is the Sergeant's office?" Nat asked Portman impatiently.

"What? You don't want to meet the boys first?" Portman goaded her.

"Portman!"

Nat stiffened at the sharp, reproving voice. With all her weapons training, she didn't flinch at the sharp out-of-the-blue sounds anymore.

Portman made a face, but turned and trotted down the stairwell, mumbling something under his breath. Nat took in the appearance of who she suspected was her CO.

"Nat Cathers?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," she replied automatically. She handed him her transfer papers her prior CO had given to her before she left, feeling uncomfortable under this CO's critical gaze.

The Sergeant took the papers, and looked them over.

"Cathers, right. I know Sergeant Blake. If he says you're good, you better live up to it," the Sergeant remarked, his eyes still scanning the papers. When he looked up again, he smiled briefly. "Welcome to RRTS, Cathers. I'm sure you'll find your previous units a walk in the park compared to us."

"Looking forward to it, sir," Nat replied, semi-automatically. She managed a weak smile.

"Follow me," the Sergeant motioned for her to follow him. To Nat's dismay, he headed towards the stairwell Portman had just taken moments ago. She didn't have enough energy for any more introductions. Portman had acted like an asshole to her, and the Sergeant seemed uniform and by the book. She was exhausted, but had been trained to go without sleep for days. At twenty-five years old, Nat needed at least three hours a night to function.

The Sergeant stopped at the raised landing. Nat walked down the stairs, dropping her duffel bag by her side once she reached the landing as well. Six pairs of eyes turned in their direction. Nat saw three men sitting around a table playing cards, one playing a hand-held video game, and another sitting at a corner table, cleaning a gun slide. She had glanced over the other four men, but paused at the last, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu as she watched the man handling the guns.

"Men." The Sergeant gathered his team's attention, also breaking Nat's focus of the lone member in the corner. The men stopped what they were doing, and looked up. "One of our new recruits, Corporal Nat Cathers," he announced without preamble.

"A lady Nat," the man holding the video game remarked, grinning.

Nat looked at the man who had spoken, trying to place his face from the visual profiles she had been given to brief herself on before she'd arrived at RRTS. She recognized the good-natured face as the man nicknamed Duke. She was about to answer him when someone from near the back of the main barracks spoke up.

"Natalie?"

She froze when she recognized the voice. She glanced at the Sergeant, who just gave her a hard look back, before he nodded, turned and left. Nat watched as her brother got up from a chair near the back, placing his copy of the Bible down on the table as he walked over towards the congregation.

"Shit," Nat muttered, wide-eyed. Without knowing why, she glanced at the man who had been cleaning his guns, and met his dark gaze for a moment. There was confusion in his eyes.

"You two know each other, Goat?" Duke asked.

"Goat?" Nat repeated, confused. Was that his codename, then?

"What's going on here?" Portman cut in, impatient for answers.

"You aren't supposed to be here," Nat said dumbly.

"Neither are you," Goat countered in a dark tone. Nat could tell he was angry with her.

"Could someone please tell me how the fuck these to know each other?" Portman demanded.

"He's my brother," Nat answered finally.