*Disclaimer: I own none of these fine characters. They all belong to Marvel, Image, Sunbow, Hasbro, Devil's Due, and if there are any others, I STILL don't own any of these guys! This is just a work of fun. I have no intention of making money off of this story. I'm just a penniless fan.

*After reading LanceGirl3132's poem, it almost seems disrespectful to post this chapter. But all I can say is keep the faith and read on, and hopefully this won't disappoint.
___________________________________________________________________________



The timer counted down. One second to go.

"Captain America," Hawk barked.

The Avenger tugged on his gauntlets. "On it!" He dove just as the horrible buzzing cut through the air.

"Hurry," Lady Jaye yelled.

The Captain yanked open the door, reached in, and pulled the tray of hot cookies from the oven. "Got them," he yelled triumphantly. He placed it on the range, letting them cool. "Smells good. Maybe Hawk will actually let us try some this time," he grinned. "Next batch ready, son?"

"I guess." Low Light squinted at the lumpy cookie dough on the sheet. "Did I do this right?"

Hawk peered blearily from his seat at the kitchen table. He leaned forward so far he nearly toppled out.

Without batting an eye, Low Light stuck out a foot and pushed Hawk back into his chair.

"Looks fine, solider," Hawk slurred, grinning. "Don't worry, they'll flatten out in the heat."

Low Light shook his head as Steve whisked the sheet away. "If my Dad ever saw me baking COOKIES..."

"Hey," Jaye protested, putting the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. "If you're about to say baking isn't manly, then you'd better be glad Roadblock's not here."

"You tell him, Jaye," Hawk said sternly, trying to focus on the sniper. "Solider, I'll have you know that I had to chase Roadblock away from this recipe. Consider this a privilege."

Steve stopped shoveling cookies onto a plate long enough to take a bite into a fresh morsel. "Very good," he said, surprised. "Got a lot of...texture though."

Hawk grinned. "Roadblock though so. Thought he'd surprise me once by improving on it." His smile vanished. "I...didn't mean to tear into him the way I did," he said softly. "It's just...this recipe is the only thing I have left from my wife." He tapped his chest. "This and my memories. Never did explain to Roadblock why I was so upset."

"He would have understood if you did," Jaye told him hurriedly, sliding into a seat next to him.

"I know but..." Hawk shook his head. "I couldn't. After she was...gone...I never talked about her with anyone. Until Fury." He scowled. "And that wasn't the Hueah I remembered!"

"Would you like to tell us about the Hueah you do remember," Jaye asked, squeezing his hand.

He absently patted her hand. "It's really the kind of story that should be told with a good snifter of cognac."

"Cognac? Your background's starting to show, Hawk," Jaye teased.

"Would you pour me some, Jaye?" His eyes widened with a boyish entreaty she had never associated with Hawk before. He pressed her hand to his chest. "I'd be grateful."

Steve eyed Hawk in askance as Jaye stared at the General in shock before regaining her composure. And her hand. "I'll...see what I can do."

"Wait a minute," Steve protested, putting the plate in the middle of the table. "Don't you think you've had enough already, Hawk?"

"I haven't had any cognac yet," Hawk replied indignantly.

"Just about the only thing he hasn't had," Low Light muttered, leaning against the fridge.

"What was that," Hawk demanded.

"Nothing, sir," Low Light said blandly.

"Oh, no," Jaye exclaimed loudly.

Hawk lurched out of his chair. With practiced ease, Low Light tipped him back into his chair. "Jaye," Hawk called out. "What is it?"

Jaye took down a clear squat goblet with a sour expression. "This." She flicked the lip of the snifter. A dull *plink* sound emitted from it.

Hawk wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Glass? Can't have cognac in GLASS. Ah, hell with it, any more beer in the fridge?"

"We ran out of the good stuff. You drank the last bottle," Jaye gently reminded Hawk, sitting across from him. "Only thing left is...the 'Piss Water' I think you called it?"

"Oh. Yes. I knew that," Hawk huffed. "Rain check on the story?"

"Anytime, Hawk," she said warmly.

"You're good," Steve whispered to her as he sat between her and Hawk. Just in case.

"Marriage teaches you more than a few things," she whispered back.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS," Fury roared. He stalked into his living room wearing pajama bottoms, eye-patch, and a holster slung over his shoulder. He shoved his pistol back into the holster. "Abernathy! This yer screwy idea of payback?"

"Fury," Hawk beamed cheerfully. He glanced at the wall clock. "You recovered from that tranq quick. Good metabolism."

"I should gut ya fer that," Fury hissed.

Hawk shrugged with his good shoulder. He leaned over, kept steady by Steve's hand. "This IS a much bigger place than mine," Hawk commented. "The living room alone is bigger than my bungalow. Nicer kitchen. How's the jaw?"

Fury stepped into the light, showing a dark bruise across his face. "Just dandy." Fury took a sniff and stepped back. "Yer drunker than a skunk!"

"Director Fury, I apologize," Low Light said. "I've never seen Hawk like this before. If I had known about that tranq gun---"

"You! And you," Fury growled, jabbing a finger at Steve. "Why'd ya bring him HERE? And who're you and why're you along?"

"Lady Jaye, pleased to meet you," she said a shade too brightly. "Low Light was having a little trouble with the General." Jaye sighed. "We don't understand it. He NEVER gets drunk. After Duke's condition took a turn for the worse ...well he just crawled into a couple of bottles and didn't come up for air until...was it about evening, Light?"

"Yeah. Ohio time."

"Ya came here all the way from Ohio? Wait a minute. It's just after midnight. How'd the three of you get ta New York so fast? Rogers, did you---?"

"Oh, I only wish I picked them up," Steve snorted.

"I, um, requisitioned a hovercar," Low Light said admitted awkwardly.

"WHAT?"

"Well, sir, the General insisted on seeing you. And, well, Jaye was handling him better than I was, so I needed something that could seat three people---"

"YA GOT A HOVERCAR TA CHAUFER A DRUNK?"

"Why not," Steve asked wryly, crunching on a cookie. "Woke the entire Mansion up to get directions to your place."

Fury loomed over the stoic Low Light. "YA WOKE UP THE AVENGERS?"

"Nope. I did," Hawk said defiantly. "Didn't know which window was the Captain's. Process of elimination."

"That's a whole lot of windows he's replacing," Steve sighed.

"I know yer drunk, Abernathy, but are ya NUTS too," Fury demanded.

Hawk started to giggle---GIGGLE! Not a very comforting sound to anyone in that room.

"Ya think this is funny? Ya friggin' idiot, are ya TRYIN' ta get yerself killed?"

Hawk slapped the tabletop, howling with laughter now. For the first time, Fury noticed that Hawk was handcuffed. "What the hell---?"

Low Light shrugged. "He kept demanding that I cuff him. I had to, sir, I was afraid he'd hurt himself if I refused. Then he kept going on about him being a low life traitor, a dead man walking---"

"So to HELL with what the Jugglers know," Hawk declared. "I'm taking a bullet from my country," he announced proudly, thumping his chest. "Ow."

Steve rolled his eyes. "He's a little confused."

"I'm not confused," Hawk said, getting unsteadily to his feet. Low Light hovered just behind him as he lurched his way to Fury. "I'm doing the right thing, Fury. I'm turning myself in."

"WHAT," Fury bellowed.

"Yep. BUT," Hawk said, waggling his finger under the spy's nose. "You're not getting Joe! No, no. I'm promoting Duke and Flint to Brigadier Generals! HA! How do you like THAT? THEY get Joe! You and the Jugglers can BOTH go to Hell!"

"Ya can't DO that, ya pickled turkey," Fury snarled. "They ain't even got Officer's Training!"

"I'm still a General and I can promote whoever I want to whatever I want," Hawk stated loudly. "Or DEmote! In fact, I'm busting you back to Private! Private Fury. Like the sound of that?"

"Please don't mind him. He's been babbling nonsense all night," Jaye told Fury sheepishly.

"All in all," Steve told Fury, "when I realized who our vandal was, I though it best to get him under cover before the J-Brass learned about his little jaunt. Or," he added sourly, "before anybody else's secret got blown."

"Captain America, SHIELD spy, seeing Thor sleep in a furry loincloth." Jaye held her hands up. "All way more information than I ever wanted to know."

"YA FRIGIN' PANSY," Fury screamed, hauling Hawk up by the shirtfront, shaking him hard. "Ya weren't supposed to CRACK, dammit!"

"Put him down," Jaye snapped, getting to her feet. "His stitches---"

"I'll give him stitches," Fury growled. "Naw, better yet---" He dragged the inebriated solider down the hall. "---I'll get him sober first. THEN I'll gut and stitch him!"

"Nick, watch it," Steve yelled, scrambling after him with Low Light in tow. "He's been mixing his drinks all night! Handle him too roughly and he'll probably---"

Hawk threw up all over Fury's feet.

"---blow," Steve finished with a wince.

"AARGH! That's IT!" Fury rounded the corner into the bathroom and tossed Hawk into a huge shower stall. The spy viciously twisted the cold water faucet on full blast. Ice cold water hit the General from four sides.

"Nick, you're going to make him even sicker," Steve hissed, reaching for the faucet.

Fury knocked Steve's hand back. "Then that's the perfect place fer him!"

"Not sick like that, you nit. He's already drunk---"

"That's what the cold water's fer."

"---and he's wounded!"

"My heart bleeds."

Steve gave his friend an exasperated shove and turned off the water. He snatched up the fluffy towels from the rack and shouldered his way past the spy into the stall. Steve carefully propped Hawk up and threw a towel over the younger man's head and shoulders. "C'mon, Hawk. Up and at 'em."

"Don't want to," Hawk mumbled in a surprisingly boyish voice.

"Yes, you do, kid," Steve replied. "Now, c'mon. On your feet!"

"Whoa," Fury suddenly said. He stepped into the shower stall, looking first at Hawk, then at Steve with a strange expression. "Déjà vu."

"What," Steve asked.

Fury scratched his jaw. "Remember that time back in '44, you and me caught my men giving yer sidekick some booze?"

"I remember hitting the roof," Steve said wryly. "The kid wasn't even 18!"

"Hmph. I remember ya more like rainin' down the wrath of God on my Commandos," Fury grinned. "Went pretty easy on the kid though."

Steve snorted. "The dumb kid had a hangover that no punishment could compete with." Steve rubbed down Hawk's hair. "My gosh, I haven't thought about that in years!"

"Me neither." Fury took a towel from Steve and cleaned off his feet. "Ya callin' Hawk 'kid' reminded me."

Steve stopped.

"Well, that and the puke," Fury amended, tossing the towel aside. "And the water."

"I...Yeah, well...when he starts acting like a three star General again, I'll call him 'sir.' If he's going to be acting like a dumb kid, then 'kid' it is."

Fury eyed him. "Yeah. Sure thing."

"Cold," Hawk muttered.

Steve grimaced. "We need to get him out of those wet clothes. Nick?"

"What?"

"Well," Steve said, gesturing to Hawk.

"...!...No way! I ain't undressing no guy!"

"Don't be a pansy, Nick."

"Do it yerself!"

"It's your place."

"So?"

"It's your responsibility as a host."

"Did I invite any of ya? NO! Ya brought him, change him yerself!"

"YOU'RE the one who soaked him. YOU change him."

"Now who's the pansy?"

"Chicken Colonel."

"Yellow bellied winghead."

"Oh, brother," Jaye spat, poking her head into the stall. "Of all the homophobic---look, both of you, get out. I'LL change him---"

"NO YOU'RE NOT," they both yelled.

Low Light peered around Jaye's shoulder and sighed. "I'll do it," he said resignedly, pulling out the cuff keys. "Used to do this for my Dad when he got drunk. Jaye, could you get Hawk's bag from the car?"

"No problem," she said, disappearing out the door.

"Captain, could you at least get Hawk to sit up on the toilet seat," Low Light asked.

"Sure thing, son." Steve scooped Hawk up like he weighed nothing.

"Director Fury, could we get more towels? And ointments and bandages? I'll need to re-tape his wounds."

"This look like a hospital ta ya, Agent," Fury rumbled menacingly.

"Nick," Steve said in a warning voice.

Fury gritted his teeth. "Fine! Get the bum cleaned up, but then I want the lot of ya outta here! Got it," Fury growled.

"Got it." Steve brightened. "You're a prince, Nick."

"Shaddup, Rogers."

Twenty minutes later, Low Light was lifting the hovercar off of the SHIELD Head's balcony with Lady Jaye in the shotgun seat, and Steve with the prone Hawk in the back. "Everyone wave bye to Nick," Steve instructed through smiling teeth.

"He looks pissed," Low Light commented.

"Well, Hawk did make a dent in his liquor cabinet," Jaye told him through her bared teeth as she waved. "And he hit the good stuff too; Glenrothes, Knappogue, Reserva de la Familia---"

"Don't make that sound admirable, Lady," Steve sang under his breath.

"It's good taste," Jaye protested.

"Not in one sitting," Steve countered.

"Cloaking...now." Low Light looked over his shoulder. "OK, sir. It's safe."

Hawk sat up and held his head in his hand. "Cuffs. V-8. Vitamins. Now."

Jaye passed back a warm can of V-8 juice and a sandwich bag full of vitamins as Steve unlocked the handcuffs around Hawk's wrists. Hawk downed the pills and drained the can in practically one gulp and a grimace. "Now give me the water and don't try to cut me off this time, you two."

"No, sir," Jaye smirked, passing back two litter-bottles of water. "We'll let you drink as much of this as you like."

"Good." Hawk uncapped the first bottle. "Tell me you did it, Jaye. I don't want to think I was that big of an ass for nothing." He poured the water down his throat.

She arched an eyebrow. "Respectfully, sir, I'm not who thought up THAT particular piece of tactics."

Hawk shook the empty bottle at her. "You needed a distraction for five minutes, the Captain and I gave you the granddaddy of all distractions. Now. Did you or did you not make the switch?"

"I'm the Jay Bird in this coop, aren't I?" She fished out a tiny screw from her pocket. "Piece of cake. Switched the real screw in his computer's casing with the transmitter before the old birds finished their walk down memory lane."

"Thank God," Hawk whooshed.

"Still don't see why we couldn't have just planted the gizmo while Fury was tranqed," Low Light grumbled. "Would have saved Hawk's liver a shock."

"Nick is a paranoid son of a gun," Steve reminded him. "When he woke up I'll bet he went over the apartment with a fine toothed comb before making his grand entrance. He would have found it. The fact that nothing outside of the kitchen was touched ought to convince him that we were just humoring Hawk while he went on a binge."

"Though it was a real one for a while there," Low Light admitted.

"When my grandfather realized I was serious about becoming a solider, he dragged me off to the bars after high school," Hawk told them. "Made sure I knew how to hold my liquor before I shipped off to West Point. "

"That makes him a saint in my book, sir," Low Light told him fervently. "Man, I can't tell you how happy I was when you grabbed that towel away!"

"Low Light, as fond as I am of you, solider, I REALLY wasn't about to let you strip me to the skin. Which reminds me. Jaye. Don't ever volunteer to undress me again. I'm too old to be dodging jealous husbands." He took another sip of water.

"Well, someone had to volunteer," she said, green eyes sparkling mischievously. "Besides, if Flint caught you oozing over my hand like that, you'd still have to run."

The water bottle froze on Hawk's lips. He lowered it slowly. "Ah...yes. Lady Jaye, contact Duke. Let him know the transmitter's in place."

"Yes, sir. Warbirds to Wardog. Come in, Wardog."

The reply was immediate. "Wardog, here! About time," Duke snapped. "What's the sit-rep?"

"Nest raid successful," Jaye told him. "Is Webworm ready to monitor?"

Mainframe's voice piped up. "Webworm here. Ready to go."

"Remember," Jaye said. "Just monitor the signal, don't access."

"No worries there. Whatever you guys are up to, I really don't want to know!"

"Jaye, the laptop," Hawk hissed.

"Already open and following the trail, sir," Jaye told him. "Fury is checking out Duke's medical status...confirmed he's in ICU for fractures to the skull...now the nightwatch report at Fort Wright-Patterson...confirmed that we left at 1803, Central Standard Time. Now he's bouncing to...the Avengers Mansion security cameras."

"WHAT?" Steve leaned forward to look at the screen. "We spent days beefing up security, and he just waltzed into our system?"

"Just confirmed that we were there throwing rocks at windows 2029," Jaye reported. "Anybody want to see the video?"

Steve's eyes narrowed. "There's not supposed to be any cameras from that angle," he said flatly. "Nick and I need to have a very long talk about this."

"You may want to talk about this more," Jaye told him, frowning. "He's wiping the videos. All of them."

"WHAT?"

Jaye nodded. "As far as the Avenger on monitor duty will be concerned, a freak power surge will have 'randomly' blanked the images from tonight."

"'Power surge' is it," Steve growled.

"He's covering our tails," Hawk said suddenly. "Why?"

"Because you weren't supposed to crack, but you did," Jaye hazarded.

"Hmmm," Hawk rumbled. "What did Fury mean by that?" He shook his head vigorously, rubbing his temple. "Stay sharp for me, Jaye."

"Yes, sir."

Steve tapped Hawk's good shoulder with the back of his hand. "You OK," he asked softly.

Hawk flicked a glance at his intent Joes before giving Steve a miserable look

Steve leaned over the concentrating Jaye to grab another V-8.

"Jackpot," she yelled abruptly. "Fury's contacting someone in the SHIELD Helicarrier."

"Warbirds to Webworm," Hawk said into his com. "Let us know if we're about to get chomped. Until then, we're on radio silence."

"Yes, sir. Webworm out."

"Turn up the volume," Hawk ordered, popping the top off the V-8 and leaning forward with the Captain to look at the screen.

"Moment of truth," Jaye said. "Cross your fingers."

The image of a beautiful blonde haired woman with hooded blue eyes and a hard mouth appeared on the screen. "Fury," she greeted.

Fury's disembodied voice grated over the speakers. "Got a couple of visitors tonight, Carter. Yer boyfriend and some new military buddies of his. Can ya guess which outfit they're from?"

Sharon Carter scowled. "GI Joe?"

"Got it in one. Agent 38, a Lady Jaye, and Abernathy himself."

"That's not a combination I'm comfortable with," Carter said. "Lady Jaye's one of their Intel Ops. She's been trying to contact me about the Black Bullet Squads. What did they want?"

"Well," Fury drawled, "APPARENTLY Abernathy was drunk off his ass and wanted ta turn himself in."

Carter's brow arched. "Say again?"

"Ya heard right. Even ordered 38 ta cuff him. If this is a scam, it's a good one. Kid emptied my good hooch and left me a bunch of burnt cookies."

"Kid? Cookies? What are you talking about?"

"How the hell should I know," Fury griped. "They didn't touch nothin' or take nothin' or even tried ta find out about nothin'. Acted just like this was a frat party."

"Which is it," Carter demanded. "Scam or truth?"

"I don't know," Fury said casually.

"Fury, dammit, this isn't funny," she snapped. "If Abernathy's really lost it---"

"IF Abernathy's really lost it," Fury hissed, "then I'm coming down on ya like a ton of bricks, Carter. I just learned the Joe's Second in Command is in ICU and ain't lookin' too good thanks ta one of the Squads. He's like Lafayette ta Abernathy's Washington. Easy ta see why Abernathy would crack."

"I'M not the one who told him his girl was a VC spy," she spat. "If he's really cracked and you're looking for someone to blame, look in the mirror!"

"We needed him shook enough ta co-operate," Fury growled. "Yer the one who said yer methods weren't workin'. I coulda got him ta cut a deal ta keep Joe if certain trigger happy Agents didn't---"

"ALRIGHT! I get it! I screwed up! I should have been omniscient and kept tabs on the thousands of Agents here. Happy?"

"No I ain't! Did those yahoos report in yet?"

She glowered. "No."

A long silence.

"Two Black Bullet Squads in one day, Carter," Fury asked quietly. "That's a record. Congratulations."

"If you want the big chair back, just say so," Carter said flatly. "If not, then get off my case!"

"If ya don't feel up ta handling it---"

"If you haven't noticed, I'm handling this just as well as you are," she said defiantly. "If you really think you can do better, just tell me and I'm gone!"

"Dammit, woman---!"

"Go to Hell, Fury!"

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE! Dammit, ya know I need ya on this---"

"Then act like it," she snapped. "You said the Jugglers would lower their guard and slip up if they though you were still on leave and you were right! Don't blame ME for being so VERY right!"

More silence.

"Fine," Fury said ungraciously.

"Thank you," she said shrewly. "So now what?"

"We keep goin'," Fury told her.

"But you said---"

"Abernathy's our only link ta the rest of the Jugglers," Fury said. "They've tried fer him once, they'll try again. We just gotta make sure our bait doesn't wiggle off the hook by doin' somethin' dumb, like dyin' or turnin' himself in."

"These guys are good, Fury. They've run roughshod over us and we STILL don't have any solid evidence or leads."

"Naw, we have one," Fury said softly. "More than anythin', the Jugglers want Abernathy dead. Long as he's alive, that's all they'll obsess about. Just like we planned."

"The plan's working too good," Carter told him acidly.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Black Bullets? Those boys REALLY got a mad on fer the kid. But at least it gives us time ta make sure they don't hack inta anything more important."

"And if Abernathy's really stopped fighting? What then," she asked.

Silence filled the air. "Naw," Fury finally said. "I don't believe it. Abernathy's a fighter. He ain't rollin' over fer no one. Even if that frat boy act was fer real, he'll sober up and bounce back. 'Specially since yer star-spangled boyfriend's there ta give him an earful when he comes ta."

"But what if he's really stopped fighting," Carter pressed.

"Then we're screwed," Fury said matter-of-factly. "We need more time ta figure out how the hell the Jugglers are doin' all this stuff in SHIELD. If the kid doesn't raise a ruckus and draw attention ta himself, we ain't getting' that time."

"WHY do you keep calling a three star General 'KID'," Carter finally asked.

"Just somethin' Steve called him."

That brought Carter up short. "Steve called him 'kid'?"

"Yep. Ya know...I've known Steve a long time. Don't think I've ever seen him take ta anyone so quick before."

"Great, just great," she sighed. "Like there's not enough complications in this operation."

"Shouldn't have gotten him involved. Now, if Abernathy dies---"

"I know, I know. Steve'll never talk to us again."

"'Cause it'll be our fault. Can you take that, Carter?"

"Guess I'll have to," she said roughly. "Not like there's a lot of choice, is there?"

"Sure there is. We can run a witch hunt through the Pentagon."

"Like McCarthy tried," she asked archly.

"Probably be just as effective," he agreed.

"Which is to say, not," she said.

"Ya got it."

"You do wonders for my love life, you know that, Fury?"

"I try."

"Screw you," she said tiredly. "Carter out."

Silence filled the car.

"That's it," Jaye said quietly. "Fury's shut down his computer."

"Captain," Hawk said softly.

"Hawk, it doesn't matter," Steve interrupted. "I'm glad you called. More so now than ever." Steve looked at him, ashamed. "Think of my help as damage control on behalf of the woman I love."

"So...what now," Low Light asked.

Hawk rubbed his eyes. "Like Fury said, we keep going."

"Should we tell SHIELD about Cobra," Jaye asked.

The General shook his head. "No. No, we're going to let Fury and Carter play their little Spy vs. Spy game. I might have to---" A huge yawn escaped from his mouth. "Excuse me," Hawk said, blinking rapidly.

Jaye looked at him, concerned. "Hawk, are we still going to Washington in the morning?"

"Absolutely," he said firmly. "I need to see certain people's reactions when I walk in, alive and kicking."

"Then why don't you get some sleep, sir," Jaye said. "I can close up with Mainframe and Duke for you."

Hawk was about to protest when another yawn stopped him. "Maybe you're right," he admitted. "Don't forget to destroy the laptop's hard drive."

"Hey, who's the Jay Bird in this coop," she asked with a smile.

"You are, Lady," he smiled back.

"Get some shut eye, sir. I've got everything under control."

Hawk settled down and closed his eyes.

"Hawk," Steve asked softly.

"Hmmm?"

"Your Hueah...you loved her a lot, didn't you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Did you like her too?"

"Mm-hmm."

A small pause. "You were lucky, kid."

Before Hawk could ponder that statement, sleep rose to claim him, lulling him with the scent of cookies and catching him with delicate flour-covered hands. "Hueah..."

Steve looked at the sleeping Hawk enviously. "You were lucky."