Not sure if I'll be able to get these out as fast, now that college has started up again. So, expect things to go slowly. Here's the fourth chapter. More fluffy than previous ones. And not a cliffie. XD

Reviewers:
Black Rosettes - Thanks.
Midnight Critic - Definately finish GC and get UYA when you can; they're well worth it. :)
LoonyLombax - Well, if you think you know, you can say if you were right or not after I reveal who she is. ;D

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

"Not to mention my ship's not big enough for everyone. It was crowded enough with just Qwark in there." Everyone frowned in thought. With their numbers, they had little chance of succeeding in a full attack. They needed to fall back and regroup, to find reinforcements. But how were they even going to get out...?

Sasha's eyes lit up suddenly. "I've got a ship on a lower deck we can use."

Ratchet looked at her incredulously. "You do?"

"It's my personal ship. I don't use it very much, but the cockpit's a little larger than yours. I think we'll be able to fit in."

"Well then what are we waiting for?" Al said. "I don't like these creatures; I think I'm alergic to them..."

Sasha lead them to a small hanger on the lowermost deck of the Phoenix. Situated comforably in one corner was a small ship, perhaps a little larger than Ratchet's. It was mostly red, with golden yellow and orange flames painted across the nose and the leading edge of the wings. Under the side of the cockpit window, in white flaming letters, was the word Firebird. "It's not quite as impressive as the Phoenix, but it's mine."

"Good work, Commander -"

"Captain," Sasha corrected him. Qwark had taken to confusing her rank with his own, due to her official title and his superhero one conflicting.

"Ah, yes, good work. You might not have the IRON! HARD! ABS! it takes to be me," he posed, and everyone but Skrunch rolled their eyes, "but good job. I'll fly."

"Oh-h-h, no you won't! You'll sit in the back corner, away from the flight controls. I don't want my ship damaged." Oddly enough, Qwark complied, though sulkilly, and Ratchet whispered that she needed to teach him how to do that. She laughed slightly and replied that she wasn't sure how to.

Qwark was in the back corner as Sasha had ordered him, with Helga beside him and Al, blushing under his thin fur at his proximity to the female robot, on the other side behind the pilot's seat. Skidd sat in the passenger seat, and Clank and Skrunch shared the floor between the chairs. Ratchet and Sasha had managed to both fit in the pilot's seat, despite the fact that it was really only meant for a single person - and, were it not for the fact that the crowded cockpit provided little to no personal space and overtly amplified the fact that someone had an affinity for garlic bread, would probably have enjoyed being "forced" to sit so close together.

Her feet flung over one of the chair's armrests, the rogue girl looked up as the radar screen blipped. The Phoenix's bridge was really quite comfortable, obviously designed to allow one to sit for many hours without developing a sore posterior. "They're leaving already? How sad." She reached up and lazily flipped a switch, turning on the thermal scanners. In addition to the white-hot glow of the engines, the cockpit showed up as several shades of red and yellow. "It must be quite crowded in there," she purred, amused at the thought of the entire Q-Force - how rediculous they must have looked! - crammed into the small space. Her purr turned to a growl, however, as she realized that this also meant Ratchet and the whatever-she-was girl were probably quite cozy.

Truthfully, they were more embarrassed than cozy. Both enjoyed being together, but not when everyone was watching them. Ratchet kept his eyes locked on a vague, distant point outside the window, apparently transfixed by it, and Sasha was hesitant to check her readout screens, owing to their general direction and certain lombaxes who were placed between herself and them. She kept both her hands tightly gripped on the controles, her eyes fixed on the vast space in front of her.

Skidd turned to them; he was probably the only one not crammed into close quarters with someone, willingly or no. "So...where's our epic space oddesey taking us?"

"Marcadia. Most of the Ranger force is in the Presidential compound," Sasha replied curtly, not daring to turn to talk.

"Oh. Okay, whatever. Wake me up when we get there, dudes, 'cause the Skiddster's gotta catch himself some Zs." He slouched in the chair and leaned over against the window, looking very serious about his sleeptime. Skrunch had already curled up in a ball on the floor, his tongue sticking out of his mouth between his teeth, and Clank had entered a stasis mode. And, when Ratchet turned around, he noticed that what had once been identifiable as three distinct persons was now more of a Qwarkalhelga blob, seeing as they were laying more or less on top of each other - or as much as you can lay on someone crammed into a spaceship.

Ratchet nudged Sasha lightly with his elbow when he heard Skidd give a snore, signalling he was asleep. "Hey, look behind us," he laughed, grinning and trying not to raise his voice. She leaned over and glanced at them, giggling slightly and covering her mouth to muffle it. Not only were they all piled together, but they were droolling on one another as well, although how - or why - a robot produced saliva was uncertain and probably best left that way.

"They've got the right idea, though," she said, her voice suddenly much quieter than his. "I mean, this is about the time we'd normally be off-duty. I guess they all go to sleep once they're off." He shrugged slightly. "Say, can you fly? I'm tired too."

"Sure." She smiled and allowed him to take the controls from her, his hands closing over hers before she had a chance to move them. His grip was surprisingly light, however, and she had no trouble pulling her hands free. Hesitating a moment, she decided it would be all right to lean on his shoulder. The light pressure surprised Ratchet, but he laid his head on hers for just a moment and reached his hand up to stroke her cheek. She smiled and grabbed his hand.

"Hey, can you fly one-handed?"

"Um...yeah...?"

"Good. I'm stealing your arm," she replied, grinning playfully. She held his hand tightly, as if she thought he might decide to try and use it to pilot again if she slackened her grip, then resettled herself on his shoulder sleepily. "'Night."

Their welcome to Marcadia was not a quiet one. While Ratchet's ship caused little to no attention from those monitoring the radar screens, it seemed that Sasha's Firebird could cause quite a stir. Several Rangers had turned up and were saluting the ship as Ratchet landed it; apparently expecting some sort of surprise inspection, a few of then also fidgetted.

No sooner had they landed and popped open the cockpit than Qwark, Helga, Al, Skrunch, and Skidd all attempted to be the first out. Of course, such a fiasco rarely works, and this time was no different; they landed in a pile on the ground. The only sensible members of the ship seemed to the lombax, the small robot, and the still-sleeping...

"Sasha?" the President called. The girl in question lifted lifted her head and shook it sleepily, rubbing her eyes and half-hazardly patting down her hair.

"Hi dad," she said quietly, climbing down and hugging him in one of her rare displays of affection. He patted her head and smiled; it was good to see his daughter again. "Dad, we've got a problem..."

The President glared at Ratchet, who was currently climbing down slowly. "My little girl's not pregnant, is she!?"

Ratchet fell off the side of the ship, landing on his backside. He looked up, a look of absolute horror on his face. "WHAT?!"

"No, dad, no, no, no," Sasha said, shaking her head. Ratchet stood up, rubbing his sore bottom. "The problem is that the Phoenix has been taken over. A female - we can't identify her due to her mask - is controlling the ship with an army of strange creatures. She's decimated all the Rangers there. We need a stronger force with which to retalliate."

"Ah. Okay then, so long as I'm not a grandfather. I'm too young for that!" he laughed.

"We need a place to stay, too," Sasha added, glancing at the ground. She didn't like the fact that she'd lost her ship not once, but twice. If her recorded continued, she would be demoted to Commander, or perhaps worse.

"Why of course you can stay here! I have so many rooms I often get lost and end up sleeping in a different bed every night anyway!"

Sasha rolled over and blinked at the clock sleepily. "Five...fifty-four? Ngh, may as well get up. There's no way I'll ever get back to sleep." She pushed herself off the bed, yawning in the nightclothes she'd borrowed from one of the staff members. They were slightly big, but then, most everything everyone else had was "slightly big" on her.

She trudged to the shower, still half-asleep, and turned it on as cold as it would go. That'd wake her up. She stood under the icy water and let it pelt her momentarily before she turned it to a much warmer setting and actually got around to washing.

Finished with her shower, she toweled herself off and grabbed some clothes that had been provided for her. Once again, they were slightly large, though it did look like some effort had been made to find garments that at least fit somewhat. She shook her hair out as she dried it, then brushed it quickly into place. Of course, the instant she moved, it was back in her eyes. She grabbed her headband and restrained her unruly hair; so what if it didn't match?

Yawning and stretching to reasure herself she was completely awake, she set about finding the kitchen. However, on the way she discovered an expresso machine, and instead decided she could use a little caffine. She quickly drained the small cup, then decided she might want to wake Ratchet, despite the fact that the windows all showed dark skies that had barely just begun to lighten. It'd be hard to find time to hang out with him later in the day, since her dad had cleared several of his meetings to have a conference with her and the Rangers.

However, the lombax in question was not easy to find, and when she finally found his room - when she decided that relying upon her nose was not beneith her and found it to work quite well - he was hard to awaken. He had twisted his bedsheets around him, as well as his nightclothes, and was laying splattered over the bed hugging his pillow and, if she wasn't mistaken, attempting to eat it as well.

She sat down on the bed and shook him lightly. "Ratchet? Hey, Ratchet, wake up."

"Mrph...nuh...bleh..." he mumbled into (and perhaps through) the pillow. She sighed and shook him again, harder. He growled lightly and bit the pillow. She leaned over and blew in his ear, thinking that perhaps shaking him wasn't such a good idea. He lifted a hand to cover his ear, or at least the sensative hole leading to his eardrum. With his ribs now more exposed, she tried tickling him, and wound up with her hand clamped amid a tangle of bedspread, arm, rib, and leg, for the moment she'd tickled he'd closed himself into a very tight ball.

She tugged her hand out of the middle of him. "Come on Ratchet, wake up." She brushed her fingers over his cheek, vaguely noting the large contrast in color between even the lightest portion of her fur and his. "Please?" He vaguely seemed to listen to her, turning his muzzle slightly to push against her hand, but he didn't open an eye. She leaned over and rubbed her nose against his.

Sleepily, in an unfocussed manner, he opened an eye, but his stare didn't seem to register anything. He lifted his hand again to rub at his eyes, but stopped the halfhearted gesture and dropped his hand against her cheek, moving his thumb lightly over the short fur. Sasha froze - though Ratchet was normally reciprocative to her attentions, it was rare to see him approach first. She thought that perhaps his sleepiness had caused a breach in whatever it was - his pride, most likely, not wanting to seem mushy - that kept him ever-so-slightly distant, and that he wasn't truely thinking about what he was doing.

"Hey, Ratchet, c'mon, get up." He mumbled something unintelligable but made no other response. His fingers still contenued their sleepy movements, pausing at the edge of her jaw to play with the fringe of hair there. Though she certainly didn't mind, she did wish he'd wake up. "Wake up; I've got something I want you to see."

"Sum...fin...thoo...see?" he mumbled, still sleepy. He lifted his head from the pillow. "Can it wait?"

"No. Now come on, get up." She punched his shoulder playfully and sat up, tugging his arm. He sat up, too, but promptly leaned against her shoulder, thankful she was wearing civilian clothes and not her uniform with its shoulder guards. She giggled and hugged him, rubbing behind his ears and saying, "Hey, I appreciate your attention, but if you don't get up, you'll miss it, hmm?" She cupped his chin and kissed the end of his nose, then quickly skipped out of the room before her embarrassment got to her. She wasn't sure why, but showing any serious ammount of affection always seemed to bring a hot, flustered feeling to her face.

Ratchet sat there, dazed and half-confused. He still wasn't sure what to expect from her. On one hand, she was very serious, always thinking of the mission at hand before anything else, including herself. On the other, she could be impulsive, playful, and - as he'd discovered - quite sweet when she was in a certain mood. He shook himself, his ears flopping into his eyes. If she wanted him up so badly, she must have a good reason.

Untangling himself from the covers, he managed to find something that might fit him...maybe. The pants were probably, no, definately too large for his short limbs, but that didn't matter too much. He could tie them up. But the shirt was annoying. It wasn't just a comfortable sort of baggy; it felt more like an oversized dress than a shirt. He sighed and decided that it'd be better to walk around without a shirt - or even in his armor, despite its inherrent "lombax smell" - than to be swallowed alive. The shoes, at least, fit somewhat; having large feet could be a blessing at times.

Sasha cocked her head at his odd dress - it was rather funny to see him in such baggy pants and no shirt - but didn't say anything. Instead she lead him to what appeared to be a hovertaxi, but with controls and comfortable seats and higher sidewalls. In the predawn darkness, it was hard to make out much else. "So, what exactly is this big secret of yours?"

She shrugged. "You'll see."

"I think those are the two words I've always hated, right up there with 'doctor's office'," Ratchet said, sticking his tongue at her. She laughed and motioned for him to join her in the hovercar. He did and stared at the sky, wondering what in the world she could want with him at such an hour. The sun wasn't even up!

They rode for several minutes in silence, skimming over the murky waters of the planet. The populated, cultured city soon began to fade behind them, and a jungle-like area loomed ahead. The trees weren't perfectly dense; instead, they were of varying heights and sizes and the undergrowth was sparse, as if it were a natural park meant to be walked through rather than an untouched area of the world. Sasha set the hovercar down on a sandy, open area and got out. "Come on, we need to walk the rest of the way."

"Walk? What for? I'm tired; it's way too early to be..." he trailed off in a yawn and finished, "walking."

"Come on, you," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along side her. "It's not that early."

"I don't see how you can be so energetic in the morning. You didn't even let me grab breakfast!"

"Oops, I'm sorry. I just had some coffee; I guess it made me hyper."

"No kidding," Ratchet laughed. "You act like Skidd when he gets into my nano. Only he's a lot worse."

Sasha laughed, then hushed suddenly as she realized the amount of sound it made echoing around the trees. She tugged at his arm again, pulling him along but also this time pulling him closer to her. The terrain wasn't perfectly flat; rather, it was a series of small hills and valleys, with a few streams cutting through the path, though none so wide they couldn't be stepped over. Ratchet wasn't sure where she was taking him; a nature hike didn't seem like her style. And besides, she was walking much too fast to be enjoying the scenery.

They stopped, quite suddenly, at the base of a tree. Dull thunder could be heard, indicating a waterfall not so far away. It appeared as though short spikes or nails had been driven into the tree at some point, creating a series of welts and knobs which could be used to make climbing easier. She started up the tree, pausing a few feet above his head. "Come on; follow me."

"What for?" he asked, but took hold of a knot and began to climb after her. "What's the point of this? Some kind of substitute for the VR training?"

"Ha ha, no, just climb up to the top. The view's great."

"A scenic lookout?" Ratchet stopped. "What's the point of that?"

"You're a mess," she laughed, playfully reaching a foot down to nudge him. Not hard enough to knock him loose, but enough to get the idea across. "C'mon, you'll see."

The tree itself was actually quite tall; forty feet would not have been an over-exadgeration. The spikes had been driven all the way up to the spreading crown, where one particularly flat, thick branch had been worn smooth by previous sightseers. They sat down on the branch and Sasha pointed to the sky, now glowing several shades of gold.

"It's nice," Ratchet admitted, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. Taking the opportunity, Sasha scooted herself up against his side and slipped an arm around his waist. "Hey, hey," he laughed, "aren't I supposed to do that to you?" He settled his arm around her shoulders.

"Since when do you do what you're 'supposed' to do?" she replied grinning. It was true; Ratchet had taken to breaking rules at a young age and still didn't quite take orders perfectly - though he did normally listen to Sasha. Usually. Unless she told him to get up. She was such a morning person, and he wasn't. It took quite a bit of prodding to convince him to leave his bed at a 'normal' hour.

He laughed nervously and looked away, feigning interest in the sunrise. "So...what was the point of dragging me out here with no food?"

"Who says I didn't bring food?" she asked, digging in her pocket with her free hand. She produced a small nanobar she'd picked up while waiting for him to change clothes and handed it to him. He smiled, thankful to not starve, and ate it gratefully. "You and food," she laughed.

"What?"

"I dunno..." she trailed off, staring out at the sky. "You just seem so funny, getting all worked up over something that fits in the palm of your hand." She laced her fingers with his to emphasize the point, drawing his attention not only to his hands but to the size of them; they folded nearly completely around her own, creating a fuzzy yellow glove over her brown fur.

He smiled, enjoying the attention, though it did make him feel a little silly. Here he was, doing absolutely nothing...and loving it! His normally pell-mell life was, at least for now, on hold. So watching a sunrise with your girlfriend was corny, something you saw in an outdated holovid. So what? It could still be enjoyed, though he didn't think a whole movie based around it would be very interesting. He smiled, and, not quite realizing what he was doing, flicked his tail. It touched against Sasha's and curled around it, twining itself with her shorter one.

The sudden touch brought Sasha to full awareness, however. At first, the sensation surprised her, and her expression became suitably alert. Then, however, her wide-eyed face took on a smirking, playful quallity. "Are you trying to put one over on me, lombax?" she teased.

"What?" his genuine confusion was soon gone when he felt her tail tighten around his. He could tell he'd been the first to move there, but now she'd made it difficult for him to pull away. "No, I wasn't...wasn't thinking...I..."

"Shh..." she whispered, placing a finger over his mouth. She giggled softly. "You're lucky you're cute like this," she said, playfully teasing him again.

"I'm cute, huh? And why is that lucky?" He pushed her finger aside with his muzzle and lowered his nose to hers, happy that, at least so long as they were sitting, he was the taller of the two of them. It was awfully difficult to have to look up to everyone else, being so much smaller than they were. He was glad of the momentary reprieve.

"Because, you've be in trouble if you weren't," she purred, staring back at him. Her lips felt dry; she flicked her tongue out to wet them, and, in the process, found herself licking Ratchet. Suddenly embarrassed, she turned around, her entire demeanor changed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Hey, what's wrong with a friendly lick?" he asked, laughing and trying to keep her mood light. He wrapped his arms around her completely and leaned on her shoulder, his nose burred in a mix of her hair and fur. "It's not like I mind or anything, right? No big deal."

"No big deal, eh?" she said, her confident, smirking demenor back. "Well, if you don't mind that..." She trailed off and turned around to face him, a small grin on her lips. Ratchet laughed, nervously, recognizing the look she had to her, though he didn't make a move to get away. In fact, it was a rather entrancing moment for him, and he didn't even blink when she leaned over a little more and kissed him gently, though she decidedly kept her tongue to herself this time.

It was warm, sitting on the branch in the morning sun, and they stayed there some time, enjoying each other's company, talking and laughing. It was nice to take a break from their worries for a few hours.