A/N: Chapter 15 of Agent Reach is here, ladies and gentlemen. This time (after sealing York's horrible, rather painful death courtesy of the Meta), Caboose and Donut join the action! Plus, Reach and Sarge go to Command for orders (and for him to explain the chain of command to our favorite drill sergeant), leaving 'The Destroyer of Grif's Dick' in charge!

*Chapter 15*

Texas walked on top of the Red Base, watching as the two idiots called Grif and Simmons stood 'watch', which anyone else with even a slight military background could see was just standing around and talking. 'Reach...what the hell? You leave me in charge while you go off to Command to get 'orders'? Goddammit…'

She then thought about the massive headache he was most likely suffering from, and being trapped in a Pelican with the world's most senile sergeant wouldn't help matters in the slightest. 'Maybe I shouldn't have forced him to take charge…but he IS the ranking officer out of everyone.'

"Hey, that's not how it happened," Simmons protested, jerking Texas out of her thoughts. Grif let out a snort, annoyed. "Yes, it is. You said, 'I'm not going to the Vegas quadrant', and next thing I know,-"

The black Freelancer took notice of another person in red armor approaching them, and something told her that he was going to be fruitier than she thought was possible. This was most likely the new recruit Reach and Eta had mentioned, and he approached Simmons and Grif. "Excuse me, sirs?"

"Sirs?" Grif turned around, saw the rookie, and sighed. "Ah crap." The rookie stood in front of them, standing straight (even though he probably wasn't). "I was told to report to Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha and speak to whoever's in charge."

Grif shrugged and leaned back against the wall casually. "Sorry, but the Lieutenant and Sarge are at Command getting new orders. No one's in charge today." Texas took the moment to clear her throat and stalk over to the three. "Actually Private, he left me in charge."

Grif immediately covered his crotch, shielding his already ruined-beyond-repair dick from further injury. If that was still possible at this point. "Fuck! She is still here!" Simmons rubbed his head, sighing. "What's your story, Private?"

"Private Donut reporting for duty, sir. I'm ready to fight some aliens," the rookie boasted proudly, nearly making Texas burst out laughing. 'Oh my fucking God…Private Donut!? Who the hell names their kid THAT!?'

Grif clearly had the same thoughts, because he shared a glance with the black Freelancer. "Private Donut? First off, I think someone needs a new nickname. And secondly, what the hell is up with your armor color?"

"Well, this IS the standard issue red," Donut pointed out, making Texas and Simmons snicker. 'Damn…getting told straight by the gay guy. Talk about irony.' Grif let out another frustrated sigh. "Yeah, I know. Only two kinds of people wear standard red: officers and recruits. And since you're not trying to kick me in the dick or threatening to gut me like a fish like the one in black, you're definitely not an officer."

"Well, his armor's red," Donut stated, pointing at Simmons. The maroon soldier shook his head, and Texas rolled her eyes under her helmet. "No, my armor's maroon. Your armor is red." The black Freelancer suddenly understood why Reach was frustrated with them after only a day. 'I feel your pain…I swear, this moron's fucking colorblind!'

"Well, how do I get different color armor then?" Donut asked, making Texas sigh again and look out into the canyon. "You know, I seriously doubt the Blues have to deal with this kind of bullshit." 'If that happened…I think we would hear the screams and see one of the Blues impaled on the cliff face by Maine's Brute Shot.'

-0-

Church and Tucker stared at the tank they got in their drop, trying to ignore the very annoying new Private that arrived as well. "So I say to the guy, 'How are you going to get the tank down to the planet?', and the guy says, 'I'll fly it down on the ship', so I say, 'If you've got a ship that can carry a tank, why not just put guns on the ship and use it instead?'"

'Oh my God…I swear, if I don't fucking kill him in a few days, then that guy Maine will,' Church thought irritably. Before he could issue a very long and well thought-out death threat, Tucker spoke. "Hey kid? You're ruining the moment. Shut up."

"Oh, okay. You got it man," the rookie replied. Church rolled his eyes and looked back at the tank, loving the massive cannon on it. "You know what? I could blow up the whole Goddamn world with this thing." Tucker was enjoying many different thoughts, however, and he looked at the side seats on the treads. "Forget what I said. We could easily pick up chicks in this thing. Probably two or three apiece."

'Is this all he fucking thinks about?' Church wondered, shaking his head. "Aw man, listen to you. What are you going to do with three chicks?" Tucker turned back to him, and he could feel his teammate smirking under the helmet. "Church, women are like Voltron. The more you pick up, the better it gets."

"Well, to tell you the truth, I have a girl back home," Church lied, thinking on his feet. He had told Tucker several lies before, and he actually believed them all. Even though anyone who's IQ was positive could tell that they spelt 'BULLSHIT!' in giant blue letters. 'He'd probably believe me if I told them that a hot redhead was performing a striptease on our damn flag.'

"Really? Did you get married?" Tucker asked, completely buying the bullshit lie. Church let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "Nah. I was going to, but then I got shipped out, and well…you know how it happens." 'Wow…this sounds like almost every single war movie.'

The rookie forgot the order to shut up, and he boasted, "I'm not gonna get married. My dad always said, 'Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?'" Church and Tucker turned to face him, annoyed. 'Pretend to be angry...not like it's hard or anything.' "Hey rookie, did you just call my girlfriend a cow?"

Tucker shook his head, almost shocked. "No dude, I think he called her a slut." Church rolled his eyes, fed up with the newcomer already. "Look noob, I could sit here and listen to you insult my girlfriend all day. But as it turns out, I've got an important job for you."

The rookie seemed eager, and he stood up a little straighter. "Really? What is it?" Church and Tucker shared a glance, thinking the same thing for once. 'Time to make the rookie learn where he stands.' "You see, we've got this…General guy."

"Right; the General," Tucker hesitated. He clearly was thinking about something else that involved him and multiple girls, judging by the slight growing in his codpiece. 'Goddammit Tucker…think about something else besides girls for once!' Church groaned mentally."And he likes to make a random inspection of the bases. So what I'm going to have you do is stand next to our flag, just in case he comes by." 'If his IQ is even a decimal point…he'll tell we're bullshitting so heavily.'

"When will he stop by?" the rookie asked, completely buying the lie. Church shrugged, starting to run out of ideas to add on. "We never know. It could be today; it could be a week from now." The rookie stared at him, looking disbelieving. "You want me to stand at attention for a week?"

"You know, you don't sound very grateful. This is the most important job in the base. You're going to be right there with the flag," Church stated, shaking his head. 'For once Tucker, think about something to add on to my long fucking lie!'

"What's so important about a flag?" the rookie asked, not budging. Church rolled his eyes, getting impatient with him. "Didn't they teach you anything in basic?" 'No one ever mentions a stupid flag in basic…they expect you to know that shit already. In my mind.' "It's the flag, man…" 'Okay, I'm really starting to run out of ideas here. Tucker, fucking help and say something dammit!'

"I still don't get it. What's so important about a piece of cloth?" the rookie questioned. Rolling his eyes and trying not to face-palm, Church turned to his wannabe Casanova teammate. "Tucker, tell him will you?"

"It's blue…we're blue…" Tucker tried, out of ideas as well. Church sighed and took back the leadership of 'Biggest Lie Ever, Of All Time'. "Look, just trust me. It's important." The rookie stumbled, taking it seriously. "Okay. How will I know when the General stops by?"

'Oh my fucking God…does the kid ever shut up!?' Church screamed mentally, wanting to grab the kid by the throat and stab him with the massive knifle thing that Maine held at all times. "There's only three of us in this damn canyon currently. He'll be someone who doesn't look like us!"

The rookie scampered back into the base, and Church let out a frustrated sigh. "Goddamn, that guy's almost as annoying as you." Tucker snorted, placing one of his hands on his codpiece. "How long before he'll realize we were just fucking with his head?"

Church scoffed and looked back at the tank. "I don't know, and to be honest, I don't give a shit." 'I honestly want to kill him in the slowest and most painful way possible. I might want to ask Maine for tips on that, but I don't think he'll be happy to see us. He already threatened to kill Tucker…but then again, I do that just about every single day so…'

"Mister Church, sir?" the rookie called out tentatively, making Church lose his cool. "Goddammit, WHAT!? What do you want!?" He turned to Tucker, about to shoot his Sniper Rifle at the rookie. "Tucker, I swear to God, I'm going to fucking kill him!"

"Well, you won't get any arguments from me," the aqua soldier muttered. The rookie shifted from where he was, nervous. "I'm…sorry about calling your girlfriend a slut…" Church violently brandished the rifle, seriously about to fire. "ROOKIE! SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! YOU'RE DRIVING ME CRAZY!"

Tucker laughed and looked away, amused with his partner's screaming. "Ah, this is going to be priceless…"

"Hey asshole, did you just laugh at me?"

"No idea what you're talking about."

-0-

Texas sighed in annoyance as the Reds continued to bicker about armor colors. 'We need to get the damn rookie out of our hair…and I think I have the best lie ever, of all time.' "Okay Donut, listen." 'I'm pretty sure Reach will be slightly less cross when he hears about this…'

"I just refuse to call him Donut!" Grif muttered, and Texas lashed out with her leg, not looking as her boot connected with Grif's crotch. It seemed to be a magnet for immense pain, and he cried and fell on the floor. "NOT AGAIN!"

Texas sighed and faced the new Private. "Okay, I've got a very important job for you. You think you can handle it?" Donut nodded, eager to impress everyone with his 'dazzling' skills. "Yes ma'am!"

'Wow…he's actually buying it. What a dumbass…even the other two wouldn't fall for it,' Texas sighed mentally. "We need you to go down to the store and…pick up some elbow grease." 'If he falls for this…'

Grif, now able to stand upright correctly, hobbled over to join in, knowing what she was planning. "And get some headlight fluid for the Puma." Texas face-palmed, tempted to take off her helmet and rub her temples to relieve her steadily increasing headache. 'I really know why you wanted a break, Reach…you needed some time to think about what I said without the Reds being complete morons every five seconds.'

Reach really was kind of clueless when it came to her wooing attempts, but that sort of made it a bit more fun, as she would get to see him be at a loss for words like when she rolled on top of him. 'He is very comfortable…even in that damn armor.'

"The what?" Donut asked, making Texas shake her head and sigh. "He means the fucking Warthog…" 'I do agree with fat-ass, though. It definitely looks more like a cat than a pig. Maybe, just to have a little fun with Reach, I could write 'PUMA' in big pink letters on both sides.'

"You do know where the store is, right?" Simmons asked, trying hard not to snicker as he too joined in the lie. Donut nodded, stuttering a little. "Y-yeah! I know where it is."

"Well, what are you waiting for then? Get going!" Texas said, pointing. Donut walked in a circle, confused, before heading towards the wrong end of the canyon. The black Freelancer face-palmed, sighing. "Other way." 'This idiot has probably the absolute worst sense of direction ever, of all time.'

Donut turned around, heading towards the other end of the canyon. "I know that. I just got turned around." Texas took off her helmet to run a hand through her blonde hair, grinning. "Wow…he actually fucking fell for it."

"How long do you think he'll be gone? Simmons asked, looking at her. Grif shrugged as he watched Donut disappear. "I'd say at least a week." Texas laughed and put her helmet back on, latching the seal. "Normally, I'd say that no one is that stupid, but the evidence is walking away towards what he believes is a store." 'This is priceless…I can't wait to tell Reach.'

"Are you sure we weren't too mean to the kid?" Simmons fretted, wiping his visor. Texas shook her head and walked back into the base. "Nah. He'll probably just wander around the cliffs for a few hours. What's the worst that'll happen?" She then regretted her choice of words. Saying 'What's the worst that'll happen?' is just as bad as saying, 'How hard can it be?' or, 'At least this didn't happen'. 'Shit…I just jinxed it. Knowing our luck, he'll suffer a horrible, extremely painful death courtesy of Maine. Or a tank.'

-0-

Donut scoffed as he walked through the canyon, looking back at the Red Base. "Headlight fluid…how stupid do they think I am? When I come back with that elbow grease, I'm going to talk to the Lieutenant." He saw a building that had to be the store, with a tank parked out front. "Finally, I made it. Oh sweet, they sell tanks!"

-0-

Reach face-palmed as Sarge tried to protest that he was the higher rank. "Look, I'm a Sergeant! I'm automatically in command dammit!" The former Spartan let out a frustrated sigh as they waited for the Pelican to dock at the Command Base. 'Has no one told him about the chain of command?'

He thought about what Texas would do to the Reds while he was away, and he rubbed his head. 'It's not like I had a choice…Grif's a lazy bastard, and Simmons is too much of a kiss-ass. She was my best bet for keeping the morons from killing each other.'

But there was something else weighing heavily on his mind. 'Why the hell was she acting like that? I mean…could it actually be…that she likes me?' He sighed and sat down, with Eta running diagnostic checks on his Active Camouflage unit to make sure that it still functioned after the recent repairs. 'Goddammit Emile, why couldn't I have had you along for this kind of advice? You always liked bragging to me, Jorge, Carter, and Jun that you were an expert in the bedroom, especially with the damn secretaries in Noble Base. It took us a good hour to clean up your fucking mess.'

If the bastard was in Heaven, along with the rest of Noble Team, he was probably looking down and laughing at Reach's dilemma with Texas. 'I can see you now… probably telling me that it's so obvious that a bat could see it.'

The Pelican landed, and Reach stood up, walking down the ramp and ignoring Sarge's ridiculous claims about him automatically being in charge because he was a sergeant. 'I'll have to issue him a breathalyzer test when I get back to base to make sure he hasn't been drinking on duty. Though it is possible that he's just that dumb…'

A pair of armed MPs snapped to attention, but they didn't salute. They kept their hands on their sidearms, and Reach knew if he so much as twitched the wrong way, he'd be shot first and asked questions later. 'Just as bad as being at the ONI headquarters in Sydney…'

He stopped in front of a door, waiting for it to hiss open before stepping through, Sarge actually being quiet for once. 'I never thought he'd ever shut up…' A man in the uniform of an officer approached them, holding his hand out. "Sergeant, it's nice to see you. And…" He looked at the rank insignia on Reach's chest armor, and he saluted. "Lieutenant. I wasn't aware of an officer being deployed to the Red Base."

"Well sir, it was kept secret via the Office of Naval Intelligence," Reach replied, not blinking. 'It's clearly a massive lie…but I seriously doubt he'll question it.' The man raised an eyebrow, but he didn't question any further. Instead, he shrugged apologetically at Sarge. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but the chain of command is clear. The Lieutenant is in charge of you and your men at Red Base."

The sergeant opened his mouth to protest indignantly with one of his hands raised, but Reach put his hand on his arm to stop him. "Don't. Striking a superior office lands you a court martial." 'Though I can understand…sort of. He was probably in command of the Reds for a long time, so having to relinquish his command will be hard.'

Reach looked at the officer, keeping an eye on Sarge in case he did something incredibly stupid. "So…what are our orders from Command?" The man got out a few files, placing them down. "Well, the rookie scheduled to be deployed at Red Base has arrived, and it seems the Red flag has been stolen by the Blue Team. Your orders, Lieutenant, are to lead the Reds and get the flag back, and if possible, steal the Blue flag. That is all."

'Seriously? That's it? All we have to do is lead them, get their flag back, and steal the Blue flag to keep the little 'capture-the-flag' game going?' Reach sighed. "Do you have the files on our new recruit?" The man nodded, handing Reach a few pieces of paper. "Yes we do."

Reach looked through them, and he let out a groan of frustration as he saw the name of the recruit. "Is this a misprint?" 'Who the fuck names their kid this? Franklin Delano Donut?' The man shook his head, holding his hand over his mouth. "I'm afraid not. The new recruit's name and rank is Private Franklin Delano Donut."

Sarge and Reach shared a glance, shaking their heads. "I don't fucking believe this…" The man shrugged nonchalantly and left the room. "You best be on your way. You don't want to leave your men alone out there for too long, do you?"

'He's got a point…I have a feeling Texas already decided to fuck with the new recruit's mind for her own enjoyment,' Reach thought, turning around with Sarge behind him. "Let's go; the longer our men sit there, the more they do absolutely nothing productive." 'If I can get Sarge to start up a training program…then I can get the Reds into fighting shape in no time.'

"As long as I get to shoot Grif," Sarge muttered dryly. He, for now, accepted Reach's authority. The former Spartan rolled his eyes and boarded the Pelican, strapping himself in. He cut off his external speakers to try and link a call to the Red Base. "Eta, link me to Texas. I want to check up on the Red Team." 'I just hope that Texas hasn't killed them in an extremely painful way.'

Eta opened up a COM channel to Texas, and she seemed to have everything under control. "Well, hello~! All is good here at base, Reach~." He sighed in frustration at the flirty tone, and he tried to not show any awkwardness. "Has the rookie arrived yet?"

"You see…about that…well, he went off to the 'store' to get some headlight fluid and elbow grease," Texas snickered. Reach face-palmed, letting out a groan. "Care to tell me why one of my men is currently wandering the canyon in search of shit that doesn't even exist? What the hell did you tell him to get headlight fluid for?"

"The Warthog," Texas replied, laughing. "Though I have a horrible feeling he's going to die a horrible death courtesy of the Blues and Maine." Reach rolled his eyes and sighed. "Goddammit…how the hell did you even manage to convince him that a desert box canyon in the middle of fucking nowhere has a damn store?"

"Have you met these dumbasses? They'd believe it if I said that we were going to show them how to build a Mexican robot or something," the black Freelancer replied dryly. Reach admitted (rather grudgingly) that she did have a point about the Red soldiers' low IQs. "Fair enough. Just take the damn 'Hog and go get the Private. We don't need the kid to die on his first day."

"Will do~," Texas purred, ending the call. Reach clicked off the COM, sighing as he turned his speakers back on. His suit indicated a slightly increased heart rate and increased body temperature. 'Fucking hell…what the hell is going on here?'

'If I didn't know better, I'd say these are…romantic feelings?'

'You're a Spartan…even if technically you're considered dead. Spartans were never allowed to fall in love…'

A/N: Next up, it's time for the 'six pedals and four directions' joke, along with some increased frustrations from the Freelancers remaining.