Turning the page of his report, the leader of Myth skimmed through the sentences of black ink. "Commander?" A soft voice asked, and he glanced up from the report to the woman who hovered warily at the door. Her straight brown hair was pulled back in a bun, and her yellow eyes were misty. He could hear the voices of her comrades behind her, talking loudly and laughing. Why she seemed so upset was beyond him, so his expression became bewildered.

"What is it, Tyche?" Her code name rolled off his tongue, and she cast a worried glance over her shoulder, "Artemis got hurt. Badly. And she's refusing care again..." He sighed, and rested his head in his free hand, "How badly is badly, Tyche?" Tyche, his Goddess of Destiny and Fortune, lowered her gold hued eyes, "She's sustained injuries to the chest, three broken ribs possibly, and she's cut up her right arm. A rib might have punctured her right-side lung, but she won't let me get that close to check. She insists she's fine."

He could now distinguish Artemis from the rest of his Myth Goddess', her ragged voice rising in furious protest over the others. He sighed again, heavily, and motioned her with the papers, "Force her into emergency care, and administer the painkillers and the tranquillizers."

Tyche gave him a long searching look before she nodded, and backed out of his office, shutting the door behind her. He could hear the laughter again, and recognized it as Nike getting a kick out of whatever Artemis was mumbling in her anger now. Giving the door a scathing stare, he tapped the papers against the surface of his cherry wood desk and then leaned back in his chair.

The building suddenly became quiet, and then erupted in shrieks and screams.

"What the fuck?" He clearly heard Nike shout, followed by a firm call from Tyche to get Ker or else they'd never get Artemis to settle down. Slowly, he moved to the door, opened it and stared out at the general chaos. A bleeding Artemis, her shorn brown hair soaked with sweat and blood, was backing the other women off rather well, waving at them frantically.

In front of her, Tyche and Nike were trying to seduce her with images of nice soft beds and warm delicious food. None of it seemed to work though; she just continued to scream at them shrilly. Her sister, Ker, came up behind Artemis and shook her head. "Commander," he heard Artemis bellow, "I don't need medical attention!"

Determined gold eyes looked at him, and he shook his head, "Artemis, if you will willingly allow yourself medical attention, I will give you a night off to go into the city." The chilled eyes of his Goddess of the Hunt became warm honeyed brown at the mention of the city, dreams of a night of straight clubbing dancing through her head.

"All right," she mumbled, "how long will this 'attention' take?" He noticed the relieved smile Tyche shot him, and he opened his mouth to say something to her, only to be cut off by Artemis raising her voice, "And no tranquillizers! They give me headaches!"

"Fine, Artemis... I'm sure the Commander would not have a problem with it, right Commander?" Tyche answered for him, and then her cat eyes moved to him, and his heart stopped in his chest. She was checking to make sure that it was okay, that she hadn't done something wrong... Suddenly he felt the ache for Jun all the more.

She was so careful not to overstep the bounds, he nodded to her words, verbally backing her up next, "Yes, that would be fine. Remember, Artemis, it's your body... but in that same sense, it's mine," the brown eyes shot to him, glaring, and he continued, "I prepped you, I trained you, and now you fight under my name with my mobile suits and my tactics. The damage you do to yourself you do to this team."

Artemis roughly waved him away while letting Ker lead her towards the facilities infirmary where their gentle doctor was no doubt waiting, probably being well informed just by the noise. As soon as Artemis and Ker were out of sight, he motioned roughly to Tyche.

He was gone in the next instant, disappearing into his office.

Tyche looked at the shut door despairingly, as if realizing what that office meant while their Commander would never understand. Nike wrapped an arm around her comrade's shoulders, her pale blue eyes almost sympathetic. "Best get in there; there'll be a new mission and a lecture about how we should have handled ourselves."

She nodded barely, staring at the door while she felt the hot rush of tears at her eyes. Did he have to lock the world out and drown himself in work? Did he have to... have to lock her out? Brushing an unsteady hand over her cheeks, she grabbed her composure, and acted as team leader would. "Go rest, Nike, and eat. It will be many long hours before any of us are needed."

The red head nodded, and disappeared down the connecting hall. This left Tyche to deal with their impending doom. She breathed in deep, squared her shoulders and stood up straight. And she marched into battle.

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Heero stared at the man in his bed, taking in the sparkling emerald eyes and the ruffled brown locks. His hands suddenly itched to dig into that hair, drag him close and kiss him. The feeling appalled him and appealed to him. And he hurt too much to try and reason it all out, so when Trowa leaned forward, pinning him down again the bed, he surrendered.

Soft tempting kisses against his face left him shivering, but Trowa wasn't obviously interested in showing him all the things he didn't doubt they did last night. His hot whisper against Heero's ear left the Japanese pilot struggling for his self control.

"You were probably too drunk to remember what happened last night Heero, but it was all mutual..." His cheeks flushed at Trowa's words, and the flush changed from embarrassment to indignant when Trowa laughed softly at the blush. "Oh, very mutual... and you still want more," Heero gasped and wriggled from underneath Trowa, making his partner groan.

"I was drunk!" Heero shot in mortified fury, hunting for his clothes in the mess... and when he realized what he was doing, he stood straight up. The movement nearly undid him, and Trowa caught him as he wobbled backwards. Grinning, all those lovely white teeth showing, Trowa helped Heero back to the bed. "Don't get up on my account, lover. The bed's more than big enough for two people."

He gave him a dirty look, snorted, and instantly regretted the snort. It hurt too much to do much, "Can't I sleep this off?!" He wailed, tears of pain and self pity welling up in his eyes. Trowa just chuckled, enjoying the fact that he got to see this childish... immature ... side of Heero. "Rest up for now, He-lover, I'll pack our things and when it's time to go, I'll come get you."

Immediately suspicious, Heero leaned up, groaned, and fell back while squinting at Trowa.

"Promise?" "Promise." "You know, this doesn't mean... we're not... I'm not... "

Trowa grinned and got up out of the bed, skimming into his pants while winking at Heero, "Sweetheart, it most definitely does."

The Japanese man closed his eyes with an eerie sense of dread. He'd figure out whether or not he'd been blessed or cursed when he could put more than two words to a thought.

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Duo grinned over the head of platinum hair that belonged to a head... a head currently trying to bury itself in his throat and hide from the scream they'd heard moments ago. "He's going to be so mad," his gentle angel whispered, and Duo laughed, "I think it's great... and now I've got Trowa off my jealousy list." Quatre leaned up, propping his elbow on Duo's chest while he raised a brow curiously, "Just because he got laid... he's not on the jealousy list?"

Duo returned the same cocky look, and realizing what he said, Quatre turned bright red and resumed hiding his face. The American's laughter filled the air, and Quatre turned even more red, though his hands weren't idle anymore. They were rubbing his chest, massaging muscles that leapt to life under his fingertips.

He moaned.

"Quatre! We have to leave this morning!" Duo whined, and Quatre grinned against his lover's throat, "Oh, but not for a while."

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Her Commander watched Tyche as she assumed her traditional position before him.

Hands folded together behind her back, legs slightly apart, shoulders squared and her spine straight. Her chin was lifted a little this time, and the gold eyes he'd seen so often were open and alert. She was studying him. He studied her back.

He suddenly wished her gold and white uniform didn't look so damn good on her, that it didn't yield to her every curve and leave nothing to the imagination. The jacket came down to her mid thigh, the hems fringed with gold tassels. Below that jacket was a white skirt that ended just above her knees, and the rest of her legs were shown off fashionably in the white leggings and skin tight no heel boots. Those boots, he'd admired them when she'd made the changes to Jun's design.

His late wife had wanted the boots to be high heeled and completely white. Tyche had customized hers, so now the six inch heel was gone, and the bottom was gold, and gold toed.

His eyes traveled up her form, to her arms where the tight white shirt covered all. Her throat was even covered... There wasn't anything to lust after, and all he wanted to do was gather her in his arms.

After the lecture.

"Tyche—"He started, and she cut him off with a forlorn look he'd never seen on her face before, "Can't you call me by my real name? No one does... and I'm starting to forget it... how it sounds... all I hear is Tyche, and I can't help but think of the battle field when you call me that... all the death... please call me my name."

That had given him considerable pause, as he'd called her Tyche, his Goddess of Destiny and Fortune so long, he'd forgotten her real name for a moment. "Ranesse Gallano." Her name rolled off his tongue so easily, that she looked comforted, and pleased. "So that's how you pronounce it..." Tyche... no... Ranesse said softly, and she smiled at him.

He felt his heart break.

"Thank you, Commander."

As if a dam had been broken, his thoughts rushed forth in a jumble. All he knew was that this level of intimacy, casual intimacy between friends, was nice. He liked it more than he'd care to admit. "Ranesse?" He asked her, completely forgetting he'd brought her in here to discuss the next mission and how the team should handle it.

"Yes Commander?" Her voice was sweet, and he ached inside like he always did. So sweet, his Tyche, Ranesse, but with such a strong nature and an odd habit of mood swinging. She was nothing like Jun.

"Call me Kuro."

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Rose: There... another chappie... with some new beginnings. Start to love. We needed more characters, OC or SC to liven up the plot. And this fit... durn thing took forever to fix though.. I think I might need a beta reader.

Crisis: Please review.