A/N: Hello everyone! It's been a long time, hasn't it? I am happy to bring you the next arc of Agent Reach, Old Faces. In this arc, we'll see Jun meet up with Reach and co, along with tying up a loose end from Project Freelancer. Also, we have a new cover for this story! Used gameplay footage from Halo 3. The image was taken on Valhalla, and while wearing Reach's actual armor.

Thank you all for your support! Enjoy the summer!

*Chapter 51*

Reach blinked open his brown eyes, and he gave a small smile when he saw his wife still sleeping next to him. 'Beautiful. It is very nice to wake up and be greeted by a sight like this every day. Makes getting out of bed worth it.' Texas was facedown, her breaths stirring strands of her soft blonde hair, and the ex-Spartan suppressed a chuckle when he heard her murmur something about waffles in her sleep; he didn't want to wake her just yet.

He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, sitting up. The sheet fell from his chest, and he swung his legs out of bed, stretching. A quick glance at the alarm on the table next to the bed told him it was still early in the morning, the pale red numbers glowing 0545. 'Still early.' He was doubtful that anyone other than perhaps Washington or Maine would be up and about, and it would be the perfect time for him to go and think about what their next move should be.

They had defeated the Meta, cleared their names and ensuring none of them would see the inside of a prison, turned over Agent Massachusetts to the authorities for judgment, retrieved the Epsilon AI, and rescued Private Donut.

But there were still issues that needed to be dealt with. The Director was still out, hiding away from the UNSC. There were also the problems of that damn mercenary who took Reach's arm, Carolina still missing, Jun hot on their trail, and technology from Project Freelancer still out in the galaxy. All in all, there were still things needed solving, and rushing in blindly was not a way to guarantee success.

Reach pulled on a pair of pants, and he walked out of his room, closing the door quietly behind him. 'I wonder what our next move should be. Should we follow what we think is the Director's trail to Valhalla? Or, do we take it slowly and search other possible leads first?'

He walked down to the bridge, where Alpha was still active, and he brushed his hand over the console. "You're here, right?"

"Of course. Where else would I be?" Alpha pointed out dryly.

"Don't start. It's too early in the morning to deal with your sarcasm," Reach sighed. "I was going to mull over a few things with you, now that you've absorbed Epsilon back into yourself." 'Once an asshole, always an asshole. At least he hasn't changed much.'

"Oh, don't you—" Alpha stopped mid-sentence, and he frowned as a series of beeps echoed throughout the bridge. "That's a little weird. I'm picking up something on the UNSC E-Band. Seven beeps."

"Source?" Reach asked.

"Triangulating now," Alpha replied. A star chart appeared in front of him, and he floated over to it, pointing to a single barren looking planet with his holographic rifle. "Here. A planet called Sandbox. Don't know why the hell anything human would be coming from there, though; the place was never colonized by humans, as far as I know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was inhabited by the Jiralhanae before the Great War," Alpha answered. "After the war started, they joined the Covenant, and no signs of alien life have been detected since. I'll put the transmission through a filter to see what it could mean, but don't expect too much."

"Whatever you can find would be of help." Reach pursed his lips as he waited. 'Why would the UNSC visit a place that's completely deserted? There's nothing of any military value there.' It could have been maybe ten minutes, or it could have been thirty seconds. Either way, Alpha was done far quicker than the ex-Spartan expected, and he looked confused.

"Shit. I didn't find anything in UNSC databases matching that frequency. Fucking bullshit, man."

"What filters did you actually use?"

"Standard military procedures. Why?"

'I have a feeling about this one.' Reach folded his arms, staring at the star chart. "Put it through a filter of spec-ops frequencies instead of standard. I'll bet you that it's something ONI or Project Freelancer related."

"Will do," the AI sighed. He vanished for a few seconds, and when he returned, he seemed even more annoyed that usual. "Well, you were fucking right, Cyborg. It is Freelancer related. More specifically, it's the frequency used by the Project's excavation teams. Looks like they found an artifact there, and want someone high up the food chain to take a look at it."

'Hmm. That's really interesting. And not something we can ignore. If it is Freelancer-related, it can lead us to the Director.' Reach tapped his chin thoughtfully, and he looked at the planet with narrowed eyes. "Set a course. This isn't just something we can ignore, especially since it is something to do with Freelancer. If we ignore it, then we lose a trail to the Director."

"Got it. You better wake the others and tell them of your new little idea," Alpha suggested. "I'm not sure about you, but I like to know if I'm traipsing all over the fucking galaxy."

'Smartass.' Reach bit his tongue to prevent from retorting; he wasn't going to stoop the sarcastic AI's level, or give him the satisfaction that his little snide remarks dug under his skin. "Alpha, you disappoint me. Don't you know you should never disturb a woman's sleep this early in the morning? I thought you'd remember that."

"Now who's the wise-ass?"

"Oh shut up, you recycled dishwasher," Reach grumbled, finally giving into the temptation to tell the sarcastic ass of an AI off. "I don't need to hear your shit this early in the morning. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to hit the gym." 'Just because we succeeded in taking down the Meta and Massachusetts doesn't mean we should slack off and get cozy. We have a job to do.'

He turned on his heel, nearly bumping into a weary-looking Maine and South. "You're up too?" Both Freelancers looked tired, as if they didn't exactly sleep. It was an exhaustion Reach was familiar with, as was the certain aroma that hit his nose. 'Oh…now I see.' "I see you two were 'busy'. You know where the showers are."

Maine's face flushed red in embarrassment, and he growled out something that could've been either, 'Don't you dare tell anyone about this' or 'It's too early for the jabs to start'.

Either way, Reach felt happy for the big man; it wasn't easy for him, being sort of anti-social and only able to communicate via growls and hisses. It was a good sign that South was able to look past that and accept him for the man he was; he struck the gold that not everyone was lucky enough to find. "Good for you. Shit, you needed it. And don't worry, I'm not going to be an asshole and mess with you about it." 'Good for both of them. I'm happy that they managed to end up together, after all the shit we've been through.'

Maine grumbled out a thanks, and Reach left the two lovers be.

The gym was mostly empty, save for Washington; the half-blind Freelancer was busy punishing a punching bag, keeping it within his field of vision all the time.

"You've gotten better," Reach noted, walking over to the heavy weights and picking up a set of dumbbells. Both weighed well over a hundred-twenty pounds, and he began to pump his arms up and down. "Any difficulties?"

"A little," Washington admitted, wiping his face with the back of his hand and taking a swig of water. "Depth perception is still off, but I imagine that's something I'm stuck with. No use bitching and moaning about it."

"True." It had been awhile since the former Spartan actually got to feel relieved, with him worrying about taking down the Meta for as long as he did. It was nice to have that stress lifted off of his shoulders and take a breather, even with the other crap they still needed to deal with. 'It's a nice change, not having all that shit weighing on my mind. Now, I can actually focus on the things I want to.'

He knew a confrontation with Jun was inescapable and going to happen eventually. He just hoped it didn't come to blows and could be resolved peacefully. Reach did manage to get all of their charges dropped; maybe all he wanted to do was find out how the hyper-lethal soldier survived. 'If it's on friendly terms, it would be nice to see you again. It has been far too long for either of us.' A proper smile found its way to his face as he recalled one of his favorite conversations as a member of Noble Team; it involved him, Jun, Carter, and Emile discussing his serious lack of action in the bedroom, of all things.

Emile constantly was in bed with someone, whether it be a pretty little secretary from HQ or a hardcore ODST gal who loved being rough even in the bedsheets. He probably spent more time in bed having sex than actually sleeping; the sounds of grunting and moaning kept most of Noble Team up throughout the nights, and often times Carter vocally wondered how the fuck Emile didn't end up court-martialed.

Reach often wondered how the hell Emile had enough time to juggle everything and still do his job as a Spartan efficiently.

Jun just wanted to know why every time he went for a beer, they were missing.

The same conversation that involved the four Spartans was also the same time that Jun made Reach the bet that he wouldn't get laid before he was in his forties.

The ex-Spartan allowed himself to smirk; Jun owed him a six-pack of his choice now. One thing to look forward to.

"So, what's the next course of action?" Wash asked, taking a break from abusing the punching bag that looked like it was going to burst any moment now. "Now that we've taken care of the Meta and Massa, we'll need a new course of action."

"Alpha picked up something on the Freelancer band a few minutes ago," Reach answered through clenched teeth. "On an old Covenant planet, no less. One of Project Freelancer's excavation teams wants one of the higher-ups to check out some sort of artifact they found there. I told him to set a course." 'Damn, I almost forgot what it's like to work up this kind of a sweat stress-free, with me worrying about the Meta so much. Sure is nice.'

"That's strange," Washington frowned, stroking the slight stubble now starting to grow on his chin. "I can recall something about an excavation team from Freelancer a few months ago, maybe one month after the whole CT fiasco. The Director lost contact with one of them, and was going to send Agent Alaska to investigate. But he's now KIA."

"Alaska?"

"Yeah. Hell of a sniper. Was easily the best scout in the project. If you were in some foreign wilderness and needed to know the terrain, he was who you called," Washington explained. "He caught some sort of fucked up illness during the early days, from what I heard. Didn't let it stop him, though."

"Sounded like he was dedicated."

"He was. Loyal to his friends first, and the military second."

The ship shuddered, preparing for a slip-space jump, and Reach let out a sigh as the micro-gravity shifted to compensate. "Dammit Alpha." 'As bad at flying as he is at shooting.' The AI really needed some fucking flying lessons. And though Reach was an expert pilot in most personal aircraft, anything bigger than a Longsword was beyond his expertise.

"Do you think your Spartan buddy is going to end up meeting us there?" Wash asked curiously.

"I'm counting on it," Reach replied. "Jun probably has a few of the answers we're looking for, like what kind of artifact is down there and why Project Freelancer is so interested in it, even today." 'I remember Halsey saying that the Covenant were also interested in hunting down artifacts connected to their religion and sent out Zealot-class Elites to find them. Could that team have gotten attacked?'

It was doubtful, with the war over for almost ten years. But if there one thing the ex-Spartan still clung onto, it was to never, ever, trust one of those four-jawed bastards. The only thing that would come out of it was an Energy Sword in the back. "Never forget what they've done, Adam. Always remember that these supposed 'honorable warriors' are the same alien shit-heel who glass planets from orbit and are also the ones who invented active camouflage."

He took Mendez's words to heart. Every time he fought an Elite, he made sure the bastard knew what suffering was like, whether he beat it to death with his own hands or riddled its body with gunfire until it was nothing more than a mangled heap of flesh and blood. 'Honorable my ass. They were scared of us, and tried to wipe us out like a common disease. And yet we beat them.'

He lost count of how many reps he had done; the only thing that told him he had been there for awhile was the arrival of Tucker and Sarge. The two simulation soldiers were glaring at each other, and Reach sighed before putting the heavy weights down. "Great. What happened this time?" 'Jun, fuck the beer. Convince ONI to give me a pay rise instead. And a two week vacation.'

"This no-good, backstabbing, dirty rotten Blue tried to sabotage members of my team!" Sarge complained.

"Oh, bullshit," Tucker scoffed. "I wasn't anywhere near the Idiot Squad when that bucket of ice water fell on you. I was busy being inside of Kai's sweet, sweet—"

"We get the picture," Reach grumbled, cutting the perverted swordsman off. "And last time I checked, I didn't hand in my resignation letter as leader of Red Team, Sarge."

Sarge grumbled incoherently, and the ex-Spartan turned back to Tucker. "Personally, I don't give a goddamn who's trying to play pranks on who. You're both grown men, so fucking act like it. If it's really that much of a problem, get in the damn ring and settle it." 'Why? Can we have just one fucking day where things don't immediately go to shit over something as petty as the old 'bucket on a door' trick? Is that too much to ask for?'

He gestured over to the boxing ring, and Sarge cracked his knuckles with a chuckle. "Getting up close and personal, eh? Just the way I like it. I like the way you think, Lieutenant. I take back all the remarks I made about you earlier."

"Duly noted," Reach returned dryly. "Now, get your asses in there, or Wash and I will start shooting paint rounds at you." He didn't have his BR85 on him at the moment, but he was more than willing to march down to the armory and grab a pair and the lockdown paint to follow through with the threat.

"Man, fuck this!" Tucker protested. "This is such bull—"

He was cut off by Reach hefting him into the air over his head. Tucker struggled to break free from the red/black Freelancer's iron grip, yelling out indignantly. "Ah! What the fuck, dude!? Put me down, asshole!"

"It is too early in the morning for this shit," Reach grumbled, losing what little patience he had left. "Now, get. Your. Ass. In there." He threw the simulation soldier in the ring, and he crashed onto the floor with a thud. He then looked over at Wash, knowing he could see the exasperation in his dark gaze. "Get us some rifles and paint. We're going to need them." 'Have I finally snapped? Or did I just never have the patience necessary?'

Wash nodded and left with a smirk plastered on his face, and Reach stepped into the ring between the two combatants. "Alright, a good clean fist fight is what I want. No cheap tricks, and no crying afterwards. If I find you gloating about a victory later on, I will not hesitate to throw you at Maine to be his new punching bag for the next month. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Sarge growled, flexing his beefy arms in preparation.

"Sure," Tucker sighed, putting his hands up. "Man, this is so fucked up. Why am I even doing this for? I'm not the one who started it."

"Because you like to refuse to solve things maturely like a responsible adult?" Reach suggested, wishing he had a teleportation cube to zap him to the armory and back in the blink of an eye. Or back to bed so he could go back to sleep with Texas. Currently, he'd love to be snuggled next to his wife. 'Look at that. She really did thaw you out.'

"Fuck being responsible," Tucker scoffed. "There is no such thing as a permanent re—"

Sarge's fist soared into his face, cutting him off, and the mustached man grinned. "Hehe. Oh, how I missed these kinds of fights. No bar stools, glass bottles, and no one waking up tied to a lamp post with their underwear on their head and their eyebrows shaved off. Just good old fashioned fists."

"Ow, you fucker!" Tucker held his nose, taken by surprise. "The fuck was that for!?"

Reach hadn't actually signaled the start of the fight, but at this point, he was already mentally throwing clipboards in the air. 'Fuck it, I'm done.' "Quit bitching and fight back. I'm not jumping in to save you."

"Asshole," Tucker muttered. He recovered, and leapt at Sarge with his own fists at the ready. "Surprise, motherfucker!"

Sarge stepped to the side with a yawn, punching him in the ribs as he soared past. "You aren't making this difficult, dirtbag."

"Fuck you, dude," Tucker hissed, wincing at the strike and throwing himself back at the Sergeant.

"I can definitely tell you're used to being tossed around. Produces some good memories, eh?" Sarge taunted.

"Fuck off!"

"Hehe, did you buy them dinner first?"

Washington returned with the rifles, sweat on his face from having ran the entire way, and he looked at the scene with a raised eyebrow. "Uh, Reach? What the fuck is going on?"

Reach knew exactly what Sarge was doing. Technically, he was abiding by the rules the ex-Spartan had set; Reach never said anything about taunting your opponent. In a way, he approved of Sarge's strategy, as low as it seemed. 'You old bastard. You're purposely pissing him off; Tucker's attacks are becoming more predictable and sloppier by the second. Well, I suppose he is used to being sloppy, bow chicka bow wow.'

'Oh for fuck's sake. Now I've started saying that stupid phrase.' Reach really was glad that Washington didn't have the power to read minds. "What's happening is something I secretly approve of quite a bit. Sarge is taunting the bull, so to say. Pissing off the enemy while keeping calm and collected himself."

He was actually proud. Reach had tried to install a sense of keeping calm even in shit situations in the Reds, and it looked like all his hard work was paying off.

Tucker did connect one blow, punching Sarge squarely in the nose and breaking it. Blood flowed down his face, and the older soldier chuckled. "Is that all you got? I've been hit worse by mewling kittens! Even Donut hits harder than you!"

'Ouch. Now that's fucking low, Sarge.' Reach snorted in laughter; he seriously doubted at times that Donut could do harm to a flower, let alone a person.

It was nice to have Red Team back up to full strength, but if Reach had to see that god-awful dance recital one more time, he would seriously consider taking up South's suggestion of making him roommates with Grif; the two were already starting the betting pool of how long it would take before Donut was nothing more than a whimpering mess rocking back and forth in a corner. Reach had his money on less than two minutes currently.

Tucker yelled angrily and charged, and was immediately met with the iron block called Sarge's fist. He fell on the ground with a groan of pain, and didn't look like he was in any condition to continue. "Ugh…my head…"

"Sarge, you're the victor," Reach noted, tossing the Sergeant a messy towel to wipe the blood off of his face. "Tucker, did you learn anything from this loss?"

"Yeah. I learned to stay away from his fucking hands."

"What else did you learn, smartass?" Reach's rifle suddenly found itself aimed at the perverted soldier.

"I, uh, I lost my cool and be beat my ass?" Tucker tried again.

"So you know about something other than how to not woo women," Reach remarked, rolling his eyes and bringing out a bark of laughter from Sarge and Wash. "Yes, you lost your composure. A smart enemy will find out what annoys you, and will keep poking at it to exploit that weakness. Such as what Sarge did today. Don't bitch about a loss. Learn from it, and improve."

"I'll get right on that, Dad," Tucker grumbled sarcastically.

"Cut the shit," Reach growled. "What I'm teaching you could save your ass one day, so open your fucking ears and listen."

"The fuck's your problem? We took out the Meta, so lighten up," Tucker shot back.

"And all of a sudden, did you forget about the Director?"

"…"

"That's what I thought," Reach sighed. "We still need to bring him down. He's the one responsible for all your ridiculous training exercises that you went through. Church dying, Florida, Wyoming, the Meta, the AIs. He's the one who's behind all of it."

"Look dude, I get he's a dick, but I'm not the one who knocked up the clone of his wife."

"…you have five seconds to run before I let Sarge borrow my rifle."

"Shit! Okay man, it's just a joke!" Tucker put his hands up in surrender. "Man, you really don't have a sense of humor."

"I'll be sure to file your complaint ASAP," Reach returned dryly. "How about never? Does never sound good enough to you?"

"…forget I asked," the swordsman sighed. "I'll go see Doc and hope to God he doesn't try and use orange juice as a cure."

"That's probably the first good idea you had today, Private. Keep it up, and maybe you'll end up in charge someday," Reach grunted. Tucker seemed flabbergasted at the comment, and ex-Spartan smirked at his reaction. "See? I do have a sense of humor. Just a little more sarcastic and dry than what you're used to."

"Asshole…"

"Melodramatic."

Even with the endless bickering, it was nice to not have so much to worry about. Reach shouldered his rifle, and he motioned over for both Sarge and Tucker to head on out to get checked by Doc. "On your way; I don't want to spend half of my day cleaning blood out of the carpets. You make my damn job harder than it needs to be already."

"Wait, I thought that was in our own job descriptions? 'Make the Freelancers' lives as frustrating as possible'," Tucker asked mockingly.

He winced once the paint splattered onto his leg from both Wash's and Reach's rifles. "Worth it."

It was time to get back to work, and hopefully catch up with an old friend. It had been too long.

A/N: I know someone's complaining about the lack of smut for the past ten-ish chapters. So, you have my promise of more smuttiness for next chapter. Who will it be? Reach/Texas? South/Maine? Tucker/Sister?

Hell, I'll let you, the readers, guess. It's been great to return to this fic after the much needed break, and I'll try to continuously update this as much as possible (In the summer I have a lot of free time to write, so it'll be nice to get what I want out XD)

Peace out!

Discord: DPLxBeAsTxSnIpE #5371