Click, click, boom.

I lied.

This is the Finale. BUT, the next chapter is already in the wind, and will be done as the week or next week comes to a close. And lemme tell u, heads will roll.

Enjoy this little wrap-up of the Tournament, and I'll continue working fervently on the next chapter for you guys.

Oop, before I forget!

I see you reviewers. You are AMAZING. Every time I check my inbox and see a review, I grin like the Grinch on stealing everyone's presents.

Regarding the funny, lighthearted chapters - they're not chronological, nor exactly part of the plot. They're more like a spin-off!

I won't keep you further, let's get AON with the readin'.

Chapter 31 – The Tournament Finale

It was an hour later when 013 once again stepped foot into the Hangar Bay, this time in the same marine blue dress she had been staring daggers at hours ago. Casey had threatened her to step into the dress or she'd get a taste of leather.

013 had broken out into laughter at Casey's sad attempt of a threat, and at the same time she shone of pride. She'd gotten that violent streak from her, no doubt.

So now here she was, chaperoned by Casey, Jeff and Tucker, and squirming uncomfortably all the while.

"Right, remind me why I agreed to wear this suffocating outfit that only reminds me of being stuck in a prison cell?"

Tucker sent 013 a curious eyebrow.

"You been to prison?"

013's gaze snapped to his rapidly. A vindictive smile slowly curved her lips.

"Not exactly. But I've been in a cell, so I guess that counts."

"Damn, is there anything you haven't done?" Tucker whistled lowly.

013 took a moment to ponder his question. What was there that she hadn't done? Thinking back, her list of experience turned out to be quite vast. However, there was one thing she hadn't done. Yet.

"I don't believe I've commandeered a ship." 013 shrugged, a crude smile on her lips.

"But you're probably going to before you hit the bucket, won't you?"

"It's on my bucket-list, yeah." 013 nodded, smile still in place.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Well… " 013 slung her arm around Tucker's shoulders. She consciously ignored the height difference that forced her arm to be elevated at a rather crude and uncomfortable angle, but that was the cost she'd gladly pay.

"Gotta keep you people entertained somehow."

Jeff scoffed.

"Of course, you're the Court Jester, and we're the suffering crowd."

013's brow dipped, her eyes snapping to Tucker's counterpart.

"Suffering? Mind you, I'm not even asking you to pay me, that should make you feel grateful at my gracious willingness to give you some enjoyment in your lives tragically lacking of it."

"How poetic." Jeff arched his eyebrow at 013, and 013 simply rolled her eyes.

"How rude." She shot back.

"This isn't a kindergarten, stop bickering. Let's go enjoy the celebrations, God knows I need a glass or two to withstand you three all night." Casey interrupted, the woman quickly walking forward in her stilted high heels, dragging 013 in tow- who'd latched onto Tucker and Jeff, thus bringing the chaotic duo with her.

"Always have to drag us down with you, don't you, Tutes." Jeff called over the crowd, his tone playfully dejecting.

"We ride together, we die together, Jeff!" 013 hollered back, laughing all the while.

The celebrations were quite joyful, contrary to 013's expectations. Several people came up to 013 and congratulated her on the win, bumping their glasses to hers. She had during the night searched up her own Fireteam to make a team-cheer for their win, and praising them on their performance. The Dylan-twins had swept her up into a tight hug, one 013 gladly returned with the same fervour, squeezing them back in their embrace of her. The team had all promised to keep in contact, and schedule regular meet-ups to hang out. Such an incentive warmed 013's heart, and she'd smiled wide at the twins' suggestion. It made her realize, if only to a certain point, that not everyone was out to get her.

It wasn't until three hours passed them by that 013 started to emit worry about where the Spartans were, as she had yet to lay her eyes on them during the whole evening.

She had asked Tucker, Jeff and Casey if any of them had spotted Blue Team, however they all shook their heads, giving her the answer she had feared.

"Negative, Tutes. Maybe they're hanging around the edges? Look for 'em in the dark crevices, feels like that's where they would hide away."

013 let out a dejected sigh. While she didn't particularly care for dressing up, the one time she did, she wanted the Chief to see her. Wanted Fred, Kelly and Linda to see her. To see that she wasn't just a sweaty, grimy soldier all the time – which didn't actually really make sense because, why would the Spartans ever care for such a mundane thing? For her, when she dug deep enough, she admitted to herself that it had to do with the fact that she could be… beautiful too.

013 swore silently to herself. Was that it? She wanted the Chief to acknowledge that she wasn't ugly? Wanted the Spartans to acknowledge that she did have a certain fashion sense, not just living and breathing in military clothing.

'Now that's pure idiocy, Spartans are not one for vanity.'

Despite her inner turmoil, a part of her refused to forfeit the longing of flaunting her dress to the tall, dark and broody Spartan, or to the others.

No matter how idiotic such a notion might be.

013 felt she'd had enough of the celebrations by the fourth hour, having held countless conversations that all stemmed from the same category. She's heard enough congratulations to last her a lifetime, and cheered enough times that her glass by pure statistics should have shattered by now.

013 wanted to peel of the death contraptions that were strapped to her feet, her toes clamouring for freedom. So she exited the Hangar Bay, leaned up against the wall and crudely took of her shoes, her bare feet connecting with the cold floors of the Infinity moments later. The steely surface caused tingles to shoot up her legs, having been used to warmth previously, and it took a few seconds of getting used to the change of degrees against the soles of her feet.

'Finally, freedom.' 013 thought inwardly to herself, a sigh of relief exiting through her lips.

"Going barefoot? Now why's that?"

013 quickly looked up, head snapping to the voice, eyes wide in surprise.

"There you guys are!" 013 exclaimed, a wave of joyous relief overcoming her. She barely managed another breath before continuing.

"Where you been, I've been maltreating my feet in these torture devices for hours." 013 groaned, lifting said devices held in her hand towards the Spartans, dangling them.

"You see these? Not recommended footwear." 013 made her point by shaking the pair of shoes, all the while giving them the stink-eye.

"I completely blame Casey for forcing this upon me." She finished, her deep sigh the proverbial punctuation mark.

013 then pushed off the wall, straightening as she turned to fully face the Spartans who had yet to speak up. As her eyes landed on them, did she notice that they were dressed in the same kind of clothes she wished she could wear – the UNSC print stared hauntingly back at her, clearly taunting her in its silence.

"Rather prefer what you guys are wearing… " 013 mumbled under her breath as she eyed their shirts.

"I can imagine we look more comfortable, but you look... " Frederic's sentence died out on his tongue, his brow furrowing as he contemplated whether or not it would be suitable to compliment the woman. He'd never really been put in situation quite like this, with dressed up women and men. The only times had been when he or members of his team were rewarded by the UNSC. Those were the only times he had seen people dress up in formal wear. This event was more… freeform than what he was used to.

"She looks beautiful, I think that is the word you are looking for." Kelly's voice cut through the awkwardness that had been building in the air, and 013 let out a silent puff of breath, chest deflating in relief. She herself was just as ill-fitted to these kinds of events like the Spartans. She'd never had a reason to join in on celebrations, the last Dodgeball Tournament she'd skipped entirely - to Jeff's chagrin and displeasure.

"Why thank you, Kelly, although I feel less like it. Dresses aren't my thing." 013 responded, her fingers picking at the fabric as she spoke. It meant her eyes were elsewhere. 013 knew she was avoiding the gaze of one particular Spartan, and it was quite noticeable to her that he knew she was doing so - because his stare was bearing down on her quite heavily. It was with a baited breath that 013 finally let her gaze shift back up, and settle onto the Chief, as the weight of it finally became too much.

He seemed surprised at first that she'd looked at him, but it passed by as quickly as it went. Hadn't 013 known better, she would've missed it entirely. However, she did know better; she was a walking, talking Spartan dictionary at this point.

"I was actually on my way to change into something more comfortable." 013 admitted after a while, if only to break the silence that had swept over them. It had been silent for a bit too long, and she wasn't a fan of it.

"Glad we caught you wearing one though, it would probably be at least a year until you go near one." Frederic commented, and 013's lips quirked.

"You know me too well." She sassed back. Her gaze flitted from the Chief to Frederic, before settling on the Chief moments later once again. She was about to ask them where they were heading, however, a high-pitched noise interrupted her before she even managed to open her mouth.

"Spartans, hi!" Came Stacey's voice from behind 013 - who immediately tensed up, her eyes almost narrowing in contempt before she reminded herself in whose presence she was. The Spartans were before her, and to showcase her displeasure would bear questions she had no intention of wanting to answer.

"Stacey." Frederic greeted, and 013 did narrow her eyes slightly at that. 'First name basis, huh? When did that happen?'

"I've missed you guys all night, where have you been? Are you joining the party? Come, I'll lead you in!" The incessant grilling of the Spartans made 013 cringe on the inside, before she was no more than shoved to the side as Stacey made her way to the Blue Team.

'What the hell, crazy woman, there's enough space in this corridor for both of us!' 013 internally berated the blonde woman, anger starting to simmer underneath her skin.

She knew that if she remained in the agent's presence any longer, there would be altercations, so in an ultra-rare never-to-be-seen-again move, did 013 back down from the unspoken challenge.

Today was not the day she would put Lasky out of commission.

"It's alright, I was about to turn in anyway, it's been a long day. This girl needs her beauty sleep." 013 said, tone neutral as she gestured towards the doors behind her.

"But you guys enjoy the rest of the evening, alright? I'll catch up with you all tomorrow." 013 then started forward, walking towards the Spartans to bypass them, as it was her only way to the elevator without having to spin around, enter the Hangar Bay again and go through one of the other exits. It felt foolish, so here she was, about to bulldoze her way through a Spartan-wall.

She patted Frederic's arm in a friendly gesture, nodding towards the female Spartans and after a second of reprieve, did she met the blasé gaze of the Master Chief and sent him a nod as well.

013 didn't throw them a backwards glance, which probably saved her some heartache. Stacey had the audacity to loop her arm with the Chief's, forcefully pulling him along.

Now, one would argue that you can't force a Spartan to do anything, but if the rest of his team went forward, who was he to leave them in the agent's company by their lonesome? They were a team, and usually were one was, the others wouldn't be too far away. So with a resigned sigh, did he let himself get dragged away.

The image of 013 in a dress as colourful as the midnight sky that he loved to look up to when he was a child was soldered into his mind, and it was at its forefront for the rest of the evening.

He silently thought that she didn't need sleep to look beautiful.

Time Skip –

Come next morning, 013 was up early as per usual. She entered the little kitchenette, grabbing a mug as she prepared a pot of coffee to get her day started.

Not that there was much on her schedule; she had booked in a visit to the Bridge, and… and, well, that was about it that she had on the agenda. She wanted to know how far away they were from the location of the second key. She was getting antsy from all the waiting that they were currently doing – not to mention that she's been replaying the message Casey received in her head, trying to figure out where the Science Guy got his intrepidity from.

An hour later, 013 walked onto Command Deck, another hot brew of brown bean juice in her grasp. While she had mulled things over, turning stones in order to find any connections she might've missed, her coffee had gone cold, leaving her to the bitter taste of one horrid foul-tasting coffee.

Easy to say, it ended up in the sink, and she poured herself a new cup.

"Hey Lasky, how's it going?" 013 asked as she spotted his figure at the huge screens of the Bridge.

"Oh, and Spartan Commander Sarah Palmer." 013 added, as mentioned Spartan-Commander came into her view as well.

"Chipper this morning, aren't we?" Lasky commented, his gaze turning to meet hers briefly over his shoulder.

"Of course. If I recall, it's a well-earned chipper morning for the likes of me." 013 shook her wrist at the two, underlining her statement. It was the bracelet with the words "the best" inscribed on it.

"Swapped bracelets with Jeff yesterday during the celebrations. Can't say he was all too happy about that." 013 murmured over the edge of her mug as she brought it up to her lips. Steam poured forth, twisting as it contorted to her breath.

"I'm assuming that has something to do with you and your Fireteam's victory yesterday?" Spartan-Commander Palmer quirked an eyebrow at her, although the tilt of the corners of her lips told 013 that the woman already knew.

"Something like that." 013 responded, sending the Commander a knowing smile.

"Wasn't an easy match, some say it was rigged." 013 said after a while, her own eyebrow cocking as she shifted her gaze to the Spartan-Commander.

013 was indirectly questioning the woman about the surprising amount of ammunition that had somehow entered the playing field.

"Putting us against the saviour of Humanity, bet someone had a bet going on that the opposite Fireteam ought to lose."

"Wonder if they cashed in, or got their lunch money taken." 013 pondered out loud, fingers drumming idly against the porcelain of her mug.

"The world will never know." Palmer shrugged, the same mischievous smile still in place, before she turned around.

"It was nice seeing you, 013, congratulations again on your very well-deserved win. Captain Lasky, until next time." The woman then left the two. 013 followed the Spartan-Commander with her gaze, before pointedly directing it towards Lasky.

"Morning date?" She asked, voice all too innocent.

She received a perturbed look in response.

"None of that."

013 chuckled, before letting the subject go. It was too early to prod the man, she ought to give him some reprieve after last time's shenanigans.

"Any news on when we arrive at the location of the second thingy?" 013 asked, being none too discreet, yet discreet enough to not warrant any questionable looks from the surrounding people – given they had heard her, to begin with.

Which they seemingly didn't, 013's keen eyes picking up nothing out of the ordinary as she swept her gaze languidly over the room.

"Yes, actually. We'll be arriving there tomorrow." Lasky's statement caused 013 to brighten up considerably, relief washing over her facial futures.

"Finally, we've been floating this hunk o' junk for forever."

There was a moment of silence, then;

"Did you just refer to my ship as 'hunk o' junk?"

"… No, I said this shiny piece of uniqueness, making its way through space, majestically so, seeking to kick ass and take names." 013 corrected him, her expression giving absolutely nothing away, not even a twitch that she was actually lying through her teeth.

"You better have said that." Lasky piqued, eyebrows raising in tandem.

"I did. Honest truth."

"… Right." Lasky only shook his head at her.

"I'll send a message through our channel and inform the rest of the team that we'll be arriving soon. Preparations will commence within a few hours."

013 nodded, her jaw clenching as she was reminded of the fact that while everyone else was allowed to have fun planet-side, 013 was stuck to watch from the sidelines, the Infinity acting as her makeshift prison.

She'd definitely been right when she told Tucker that she hadn't been to prison per say, but that she's been stuck in a cell previously.

She didn't mention that said cell was in the shape and size of a supercarrier.

The rest of the day passed by quite slowly, 013 interacting sparsely with the Spartans and her other friends alike. They were busy preparing for the upcoming battle.

013 actually managed to pay a visit to Doc, having missed talking to the one woman who perhaps was closest to a mother figure these days.

It had been fun, updating Doc on the few life events that have transpired since last time. Doc had listened intently, which 013 hadn't known then but understood later, relieved some of the heavy burden that subconsciously clung to her shoulders. Just having someone listening to you rave and rant did wonders, especially if that same person genuinely cared. Doc had asked her questions, which to 013, wasn't anything else but a tell-tale sign that the woman was listening intently, taking in everything that she was saying.

The Doc wanted to know about her day, her life, the events that she's experienced. It warmed 013's frozen heart, tugging at her heartstrings at such… kindness.

It was a kindness that couldn't be taken, only given. There was no price one could pay to be on the receiving end, the only way to experience and be shown that kind of kindness was to make yourself vulnerable for it.

You would have to open up, give a part of yourself to someone, and hopefully, in return, they would show you kindness back. However, such was rare in these times – people rarely, scarcely, wanted to put a part of their heart on their sleeve and serve it up to unknown odds.

Yet, such was a risk you would have to take, to discover whether the person you gave it to would be worth it or not.

So when 013 revealed her intimate moment with the Chief, Doc only hummed and nodded, before offering her take.

The woman had relayed what 013 already knew, but never put into words.

013 had, wholly and completely, fallen in love with the Chief. With Spartan-117. With John.

013 had been quiet when the Doc first uttered those words, nothing showing on the outside, not even a twitch. However, the same couldn't be said for what was going on internally. Her mind and body was reeling, as if she'd been struck,which, she kind of had been – it felt like she had been suckerpunched in the gut - from the verbal confession the medically inclined woman had made. 013's hand had automatically shot up to grasp the dogtag hanging around her neck in an attempt to calm the tsunami-sized panic that crashed into her with an unfathomable force, her fingertips smoothing over the embellished words printed onto the sheet of metal over and over again. It wasn't mutually exclusive, but might as well have been, to insanity. Or stolen a page or two from the concept, at the least. In fact, the act of insanity is repeating the same action, and expecting different results.

Skin softly traced over the markings present on the rectangular piece; the tips of her fingers silently spelling out the love of her life to her in an intimate display of touch. As her thumb continuously caressed the dogtag, did 013's nerves slowly ease down from their high. She let the heavy weight in her stomach slowly settle, the proverbial anchor pulling her down gently, down to the bottom of the proverbial sea where realization and acceptance waited for her.

The internal state of just what kind of feelings her heart harboured, were for the first time put into words. Her heart had lurched, equal to the feeling of having been pushed off of a cliff without a parachute; the fear, shock and adrenaline all mixing into one confusing mess before the warring emotions defrayed, smoothing out, and leaving in its wake the bare-boned acceptance.

The acceptance that it was true; she unquestionably loved the enigmatic Spartan, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it but register that fact, to come to terms with it.

No longer could it be intangible; Doc had seen to that, expressing the very specific words that held the power to put 013's whole world on tilt. And succeeded in doing so, too.

'Guess I love the saviour of Humanity after all, then. Not like I didn't know all this time… You just refused to acknowledge it, girl.' 013 mumbled to herself, having retreated to her dorm to stew over the hard truth of it all after she'd mumbled a quiet thank you to the Doc.

And consequently, she also stewed over the grave she'd dug for herself.

How would she come back from this? Could she even come back? Would she manage the Spartans' existence in her life and survive, or will she crash and burn as the weight of it finally tore her under?

Can she live with the Chief being so close, and yet not being able to be with him the way she truly wanted to?

013 took the rest of the day for herself; she had to prepare facing and saying goodbye to the Spartans and Co. before they officially left the Infinity and entered a battle which no one knew the outcome of. Hopefully the odds were in their favour, but it was an ugly truth that they had unsettling limited information about the Scientist that threatened their whole mission.

She had to build walls thick enough to be able to look the Chief in the eye while her heart would hammer in her chest, roaring at her to confess what it was feeling for the man.

013 let her head fall helplessly into her hands.

How will she manage to do that?

'Pull yourself together, 013!'

'I… can't… ' 013's inner voice echoed mournfully, sorrowfully.

Words of similar once said the same thing, unbeknownst to her.

Imagine that.