Guys, I am sorry, the majority of this chapter has been written for weeks now but I was hoping to extend it and I just haven't been in the right frame of mind. It's not great and I'm super bummed that the story isn't coming along the way it originally was, words just aren't flowing (or when they are, it's very limited) and I'm writing most of this on the fly (which sometimes works great for me, sometimes not). I wish I could say things are looking more promising going forward, but I doubt it - not until the end of the summer, at least. Life is kicking my ass lately. It is what it is. This is far from my best work, and again I really do apologize - I wanted this fic to be my fluff piece (with some drama, of course) and it kind of got derailed. Please excuse my shitty depiction of John in this chapter, I wasn't happy no matter how many times I rewrote him.

Fred knew it wasn't likely a literal statement, but just the knowledge she had been up with the techs and others monitoring the adaptive camouflage exercise for several hours made his insides heat. He ducked his head the remaining few inches necessary to feel her lips against his own and nearly shuddered in gratification at the way they immediately parted in invitation.

Rational thought eluded him entirely. The scope of his awareness dwindled until its breadth encompassed nothing more than the warm body wedged between his own and the mess hall. That they were standing not too far out of plain sight of the entrance of the first building personnel were likely to attend when the whole base began to stir in less than an hour barely registered as a concern.

When her slender arms encircled his neck, he braced his on the weather worn metal to either side of her to hold himself steady in the stooped position. These were not the slow and exploratory kisses of the previous night. She was no longer patiently coaching him along in an art in which he was far outside his depth, there was a building sense of urgency - of the promise of more. Her hands seemed restless, smoothing over his shoulders and along the back of his head, then eventually making their way down his chest and beneath his jacket to the t-shirt underneath - or would have, had he not skipped donning it in his haste when dressing.

Their mouths broke apart at the unexpected skin-to-skin contact, though whether it had been him or her who'd pulled back first he wasn't certain of. The small puffs of her exhalations ghosted over his chin as she stared up into his eyes. Her fingers felt comparatively cool against his abdomen. They hovered, barely touching.

Should he apologize? For failing to put on his entire uniform? Somehow, that struck even him as an awkward explanation to have to make, though what the appropriate response might be in this situation he had no idea. She'd quite obviously been anticipating him being attired properly.

"Fred?"

He swallowed, trying to cobble together a reasonable answer to the questioning tone in which she'd said his name - or any answer at all.

"Should I stop? You look uncomfortable."

Uncomfortably stupid. "No, I just- didn't want to keep you waiting so I didn't bother with the t-shirt."

The way her lips curled upwards reassured him a fraction. "I noticed. You weren't expecting to be groped, I'm guessing."

He blinked. "The possibility didn't cross my mind, no."

"An unfortunate lack of foresight on your part."

"It won't happen again."

"The lack of t-shirt or lack of foresight?" She was needling him, and enjoying it. "Because I'm more than okay with the former, in case you were wondering."

He had been, actually. But he wasn't about to admit that. "Understood."

"Permission to continue violating you?"

Fred couldn't refrain from cracking a smile at the absurdity of the request, his anxieties having subsided again for the moment. "Granted," he said while his stomach preemptively performed a somersault.

The palms which flattened over his abdominals were soft and decidedly different than the silicone clad ones which he was accustomed to during regularly performed physical examinations. Those touches were impersonal and to be tolerated, or better yet ignored altogether. The slow glide of Lyra's hands as they investigated every groove and plane of his torso, tracing old battle wounds when they ran across them - the intense manner in which she held his gaze, a slight furrow of concentration between her brows as she took in each detail hidden beneath his fatigue jacket, was anything but impersonal.

His mouth ran dry, his pulse bounded and leapt - fortunately there was no advanced combat armor monitoring and recording a spike in his vitals he'd have no explanation for if questioned on this time.

"You're very solid, Fred. I'm not convinced you would float," she concluded, voice much lower than it had been previously. Her fingers continued their slow perusal, tracing his clavicle, the augmentation scars there.

The statement brought back certain images he wasn't likely to soon forget. Water droplets rolling down her neck and shoulders, disappearing beneath the neckline of her swimwear. The slow sway of her hips as she'd backed towards the pool, inviting him to swim. His dreams supplied other, much more graphic scenes - waking from those was always disorienting, which was abnormal for him. He nearly forgot she was waiting on a response, the tangent and her soft hands were so distracting. "I float. You seem particularly concerned about it."

"I am. Very. Maybe I'll suggest the addition of a personal floatation device to Dr. Naples. We might have to get rid of adaptive camouflage or shields or some other less useful feature to make room, but I think you'll agree it'd be worth it." The proposal was delivered professionally enough, but the way her lips were compressed into a thin line told him she was struggling to keep a straight face.

There wasn't too much he wouldn't have agreed with her on just then. "I can't see a reason that sort of upgrade wouldn't be implemented immediately."

"I'm alarmed no one's thought of it before now."

"A massive oversight."

"Massive."

The distinctive snap of foliage breaking might as well have been a gunshot in the hushed predawn silence. Fred spun towards the noise, fingers closing around the handle of the combat knife stowed on his belt at his back and nestled safely beneath his jacket.

Worse than the possibility the base had been infiltrated by enemies - far worse - was that it was John who stood facing him. While Fred struggled to wrangle enough brain cells to rub together to formulate a reaction, John removed his boot from the branches Lyra had arranged in an 'x', the simple motion further flustering Fred as he realized his teammate had resorted to intentionally stepping on them to gain Fred's attention. How long had he been there? Watching?

"Good morning, Master Chief," he heard Lyra pipe up from where he'd effectively boxed her in behind him. Regaining enough good sense to move aside, he let his hand fall away from his weapon and managed a nod to John, whose expression was unreadable even to him at the moment.

"Miss Ashton," John returned the greeting impassively. "Fred."

Somehow, Lyra's tone was casual as she remained where she was, leaning against the building. "I heard the active camo performed fairly satisfactorily."

The noncommittal grunt she received in answer neither confirmed nor contradicted this conclusion. "Further tests to run."

"The Lieutenant and I were discussing the addition of a flotation device."

Fred could see John's brow crease minutely at this information. He was trying to decide what to make of it. "Unnecessary to most mission scenarios."

"But invaluable the one time you need it, surely."

"Respectfully, I can't agree."

In direct contrast to the indignation Fred had witnessed bloom in the faces of some of the officers at being gainsaid, Lyra's eyes brightened at John's disagreement. "Noted." She straightened away from the exterior of the mess hall. "I should be getting back to the hotel."

Disappointment tugged at his features, but Fred was keenly aware of John's gaze. He knew his teammate had witnessed him locked in a less than professional position with Lyra already and he had no notion how best to proceed here, he was treading on unfamiliar ground. "Enjoy the rest of your day," was the only thing he could manage to come up with, wincing inwardly at his own awkwardness.

"I'll try." With a curious smile he couldn't quite decipher, she headed off across the grounds, tugging her jacket on as she went.

John remained silent as he watched her go. "We're scheduled to ship out for further mission exercises at 1300 hours," he spoke up eventually, the failure to address the scene he'd come across not surprising Fred in the least, even if he had perhaps been waiting in a state of trepidation.

"Where to?" he questioned to hide his relief.

"Undisclosed location off planet."

His stomach fell. That likely meant they'd be gone for longer than a few days.