As per his usual, Jack had his moment of doubt before stepping onto the floating hexagon, before relaxing slightly as it hovered towards downtown, thus taking him towards Compa's apartment. He'd made the decision to check in there, then the next day, visit the basilicom. Cave had insisted on coming with him, and since the people transit system of Planeptune wouldn't accept twenty ton armoured vehicles as 'several people', they'd been forced to find a car park and put the Challenger tank there. For some reason, Jack felt like kind of a dick for parking it in such a way that it took up four spaces, but it was either that or crushing a bunch of cars.

Besides, he'd paid for four spaces. And it wasn't exactly like it was gonna get clamped, was it? Worst they could do is get an industrial crane and lift it onto the back of a fucking giant truck, then take it to a police station where Cave would probably go and steal it again.

Jack was about to ask Cave how she even got the Challenger to Lowee in the first place when she spoke first. "This...'Compa'," she began, placing her hands behind her back and pacing slightly on her floating hexagon. "She owns no weapons, correct?" Jack raised a brow.

'Jesus. Not holding back on the questions, eh?'

"...not...that I know of...?" he replied cautiously, deciding to withdraw the .44 revolver and idly twirl it around his finger like the famous character Semi-Automatic Badger from the Steel Cog Rather Hard stealth game series. "Why? Is it summat you're worried about?" Cave sniffed.

"Mostly for her own safety. I have concerns that you might attempt to appropriate any weapons she has." Jack gave her a deadpan look as he chucked the revolver behind his back, over his shoulder, onto his finger, then sideways.

"I'll be honest, I'm slightly insulted that you think I'd just take any weapon I find and then try to kill someone with it. I have enough as it is; Four machine guns, three revolvers, a handgun, some flash grenades, normal grenades, a baton, combat knife, machete, and I'm expectin' the delivery of some explosives from back home." With each mention of the weapons, Cave began looking more concerned. There was a pause.

Finally, she gave her response, folding her arms and eyeing Jack up and down. "Mmhmm. Mr. Glovebox, when did you last bathe?" Jack blinked.

Fuck, now that WAS a good question.

He raised his hand to scratch his chin, still spinning the revolver in a stupidly extravagant way without looking at it. Some of the people going past watched him curiously to see if the gun would go off. "Jesus, askin' all the hard questions, Cave..." he muttered. "...so, that was about four days in Lastation, a week in Leanbox, almost a week in Lowee, plus today and three days in Planeptune prior to my last visit to Lastation..." He paused, and looked down at Cave. "How long ago did we first meet in that public bath?"

Cave retched slightly, raising a hand to her mouth. "Oh, goodness, Mr. Glovebox!" she groaned. "You haven't bathed in a month?!" Jack nodded calmly.

"Before I came to Gamindustri I didn't bathe for about a year," he said, seemingly blind to the looks of disgust he was getting from Cave and anyone else in earshot of the conversation. "Why, is it a bad thing, or summat?"

"You're going to fall seriously ill," Cave scolded, "And what if you were to become injured? The amount of bacteria on your body would surely cause an infection." Jack just shrugged.

"Probably, but considerin' the fact I've wedged these size elevens up the arseholes of a considerable number of 'dangerous' monsters, I'm not gonna get injured, am I?" He finished by pelting the revolver in a random direction, watching it disappear into data and return to his disk. "You worry too much."

Cave just frowned at his bravado.

It was going to get him, or someone else, seriously hurt.

For a moment, she wrestled with the thought, then RKO'd it to the back of her mind and began thinking about the time. It was five o' clock sharp. Considering the amount of people using the Planeptune personal travel system, it was probably the rush to get home at the end of work. Since that was the case, she could assume that this 'Compa' girl was probably headed home from wherever she worked.

She'd probably be there when they arrived.

An hour later, at Compa's flat...

"This is quite frankly ludicrous," Cave grumbled, shifting her position slightly so she was leaned against Jack's shoulder. Since their arrival, there had been no Compa, which meant Jack and Cave had opted to sit down in the corridor in front of Compa's apartment whilst they waited. For the first ten minutes, they had been talking about whatever it was that two psychopaths would discuss. Then after that, conversation dried up.

Jack withdrew each of his guns and began expertly cleaning them with a speed and efficiency that Cave struggled to keep up with. She decided to message the others.

Finally, Jack put the RPD back into his disk, stood up, and began to walk down the hall. Cave sat up. "Where are you going, Mr. Glovebox?" she asked. Jack glanced over his shoulder at her as he walked.

"Off for a wander," he replied. "You could probably stay there, if you wanted." Cave was about to go after him, but then realized: He couldn't really go that far, could he?

Nodding, Cave relaxed and continued to fiddle with her phone as Jack began to head down the stairs towards the apartment building's lobby. Once more, he received looks of bewilderment from the short women that populated the lobby, and he disregarded all of them. After exiting the lobby, he made his way to the side of the glass double-doors, and sat on one of the short brick walls that surrounded the building, as a way of containing plants.

Once he'd sat himself down, he sighed, and stared miserably ahead with his hands in his pockets. He contemplated what he had in his bag that he could mess about with that wouldn't get him arrested.

He had some cigarettes and vodka, but he'd never had alcohol or cigarettes before. Not knowing his drinking limits was slightly scary, so he opted to just push aside the thoughts of being a Slav. Plus, he didn't really want to get into smoking. He decided that both amenities would be used as bargaining items in case he met any other guys from Earth.

He had his machete and his combat knife. Perhaps he could sharpen them? But then again, doing that would probably cause a noise disturbance and maybe get him arrested. Damn. Off the list.

Perhaps he could work on the G.B.F.O.G plans?

Wait, he had no idea how he could get it to function after he'd modified the plans to make it man-portable. Bugger.

He groaned, and leaned back slightly, arching his back. "This relaxin' bullshit's harder than I thought..." he muttered, rubbing the back of his head as he leaned forwards again. He received s few looks from passers-by, but he ignored them as usual. How were people still not used to him? He'd been around long enough.

For a few more minutes, he wrestled with the thought of trying a cigarette to see if he liked them, but before he could even consider whipping out a death stick and lighting up, he saw a certain adorable, pink-haired blob shuffle into view from around the street corner. Jack smiled, standing, and began to walk towards Compa.

As he got closer, however, he noticed that something seemed...off about her. She looked really tired, mixed with sadness. Her arms were hung by her side, and she was trudging along without even a hint of the energy he'd known her for. The fluffy hair he'd known her for looked rather dishevelled, and her clothing looked crumpled. For a moment, he doubted it really was Compa.

Hesitantly, he spoke up as she approached. "Hi, Compa," he greeted. At the sound of her name being said, the nurse paused in her tracks with a rather bleary-eyed expression on her face. Upon sighting her tall male friend, she offered a drowsy smile and extended her arms out.

"Mr. Lunny!" she yawned, still smiling as she shuffled forward to hug him. Jack accepted the hug, crouching slightly to reciprocate it. "Sorry if I'm a little slow...work's been hard, lately..." Jack patted her back, releasing the hug.

"No worries," he replied. "Apparently I was workin' too hard, so the CPUs put me on holiday. And so here I am." Compa nodded slowly, rubbing one of her eyes and yawning again, which started setting off alarm bells in Jack's head. "Alright, Compa. You can barely keep your eyes open. I'm gonna carry you up to your apartment, alright? Don't want you passin' out on the way up there."

The nurse smiled, offering no resistance to Jack picking her up. "Yaaaay..." she murmured, before shifting slightly to get comfier. The smaller woman curled up in his arms, using his bicep as a pillow and hugging her arms to her chest. Once she was secure, Jack began to walk back through the lobby, the number of looks he got doubling from when he was alone. As he walked, he spoke out to ease their concerns.

"She's tired," he said flatly, not even looking at them. "I'm takin' her to her flat." The looks didn't cease, and as he headed up the stairs he was fairly certain he could hear the police being dialled.

Whilst he made his way down the corridor to the next flight of stairs, he looked down at the snoozing Compa cradled in his arms like a baby.

God.

She was so fucking adorable.

She was light to carry (Maybe it was because all the level grinding had turned him into Gainsley Harriot, Mayor of Gainsville and Bringer of Banter), wore a cute woolly jumper, had fluffy hair, and was probably the most friendly person he'd met so far (Even Uni had a tendency to sometimes snap at him if he said something idiotic: Compa would just politely tell him he was wrong).

In his list of favourite Gamindustrians, Compa was easily second or third. It really depended what Chika was doing and if it was that time of the month for her again. So, at that time, Compa was probably second: Chika's last text to him that said "oh shit it's sticky trouser jam time brb" was a bit of an indicator that he probably wouldn't want to speak to her for a week, at least.

Just as he started on the next flight of stairs, Compa shifted again, snuggling into his chest slightly. "You're really warm, Mr. Lunny..." she sighed contentedly. "Can you sleep with me in my bed, tonight...?" At that comment, Jack mentally scoffed, and began mentally questioning why everyone suddenly wanted to snuggle with him. He shook his head as he approached Compa's apartment, throwing Cave the keys to the door.

He was the most hard-arse fighter in Gamindustri! He had kicked so much arse that he was the fifth highest-level individual in Lowee, with the only four above him being the CPUs themselves! He'd fought Soviet gangsters, dragons, Fenrirs, and hordes of enemies so tough that even the S.A.S would back down!

And besides, he'd already snuggled with Uni. That was more than enough snuggles for one week.

As he headed into the apartment, Jack set himself some objectives.

Wave off Cave.

Lock apartment.

Put Compa into her bed.

Prepare for the next day, where he'd head off to the basilicom.

Simple.

The next morning...

Jack's head felt fuzzy.

Why was he in a bed? Christ, he was buggering up his own one-hour-every-three-days sleep cycle!

As opened his eyes fully, he tried to remember what he did the night before.

He could remember Cave saying she was going to check in with Miss Histoire at the basilicom. Right. That was a definite.

He remembered locking the apartment. That was for certain; He remembered that he'd moved a chair in front of the door.

Then he...sort of remembered putting Compa into bed. Anything after that was blank.

Frowning, he tried to sit up, then paused.

Shit, the bed was pretty comfy.

He looked around. At least he knew it was Compa's apartment; He recognized the room he was in as the one he'd commandeered the last time he was staying with her. Hell, he could even remember exactly where he'd laid his shotguns when he was asleep.

So at what point did he pass out?

Just as he was attempting to sit up, the door creaked open, revealing the adorable, beaming face of his host. "Good morning, Mr. Lunny!" chirped the nurse as she walked calmly into the room with a tray in her hands. Jack blinked.

"When did I go to sleep?" he asked.

Compa thought for a minute, setting down the platter of breakfast food she was carrying. "Uh..." She was squinting in an attempt at recollecting, before smiling. "Oh yeah! It was right after I gave you a little jab with my needle. You slept like a baby, after that. And y'know, for someone armed with loads of weapons and a vocabulary that would probably scare IF, you're really adorable when you're sleeping. Like a big, cuddly bear."

Jack was utterly speechless.

Was he meant to punch her?

She'd drugged him. With a fucking needle. He hated needles.

Remaining as calm as possible, Jack frowned. "Why the hell did you fuckin' drug me?" he snapped. Compa recoiled slightly, a nervous smile on her face.

"Ah, aha, well, y'see, Histy got told by Nep-Nep that you weren't sleeping that much, and apparently Histy took it upon herself to see that you get some rest. So she told me to make sure you slept properly for at least a night or so." Compa shifted side to side slightly. "So, uh, the easiest way I could think of to do that was to give you a little jabby with my needle, and tuck you in all nice and snug."

"But weren't you absolutely shattered from yesterday? How'd you find energy to put me into a bed?"

"The thing is, Mr. Lunny; I wasn't really tired. That was me pretending. Your friend Cave sent Histy a message saying you'd both showed up, then she sent me that message, so I guessed she wanted me to do something." Compa began unfolding some legs on the tray, standing it over Jack's lap without asking first. "That means I was all fine and dandy, but just pretending to be sleepy. Also, your chest is really hard but your arms are so soft."

"That's 'cause you were leanin' your head on Kevlar body armour," Jack replied, staring blankly at the foods placed over his lap. Looked like an English breakfast, really.

Except the cook wasn't a greasy fat bloke behind a café counter that kept scratching his sweaty arse with the spatula he was using to flip food whilst telling you all about the rugby match from last night.

"What's this?" Jack asked. Compa smiled, and sat at the foot of the bed, before swinging her legs up and sitting cross-legged in front of him.

"Oh, just breakfast in bed," she said proudly, as Jack began eating the bacon with his hands whilst completely disregarding the knife and fork. "That red-haired lady you were with told Histy that you're on holiday right now, and she said you were struggling to enjoy your time off, so I thought maybe today, I could help you find stuff to do and enjoy your free time. There's plenty of shops around that you might like, Mr. Lunny!" Jack nodded, listening whilst he ate. "But before that, I'd probably say it would be a good idea to get you cleaned up. Your red-head friend told Histoire you haven't bathed for about a month, so...yeah, I think you should probably have a bath, or something..." Jack nodded slowly, chewing some bacon.

"Uh-huh." There was silence as he continued eating. Finally, after about five minutes, he spoke again. "Why'd you feel the need to use a needle on me?"

Compa cleared her throat. "It's, uh, effective, I guess?"

"I hate needles."

"So do most of my patients, but they take them anyway. Besides, you said you've been shot and stabbed before, so I figured you wouldn't mind."

"Yeah," Jack cut in, "But I still hate needles. There's summat about them that I really, really hate. I dunno what it is. I can watch people bein' stabbed, decapitated, burned alive, shot to death, or crushed by a tank...hell, I laugh at those sorta videos. But anythin' with needles...needles are just...no." Compa nodded slowly, looking confused.

"OK...so...how was it you said you were trained to stitch yourself back together?"

"With a pointy object and a stringy object. Like electrical cable, and a screwdriver head."

"So basically a needle and thread."

Jack paused. "...debatable."

"You were told how to use a needle and thread to close injuries, right?" Compa continued, ignoring him. "And you said you faced gunfire quite often and got stabbed a few times. Why's a little needle something to worry about? You zonked out right after." Jack gave a flat stare at her.

"Compa, I have a sleepin' cycle to stick by," he began, "An hour of sleep, every three days. That's how I got trained."

"And that kind of punishment on your body is enough to make you go a little bit crazy." She paused, looking down with a serious expression. "People do some really bad things when they're sleep deprived and in tough situations, but it's not always...their fault..." Her voice began to trail off, and her face hardened into what Jack saw as a thousand-yard stare. He swallowed the toast he was eating, stared at her in confusion for another moment, then cleared his throat.

"Uh...Compa?" he said curiously. "You alright, lass?" The nurse seemed slightly shaken up, before looking at him and grinning.

"Oh! I'm...fine! Just some bad memories I got reminded of for a minute there."

Again, Jack nodded slowly.

"...right then...?"

A few hours later...

After they'd both travelled to the public bath (It took a half hour of coaxing to get Jack to just get in the bath and stop squirming under the gazes of a bunch of random women, who were equally as uncomfortable when they watched Jack scraping a thick layer of dry blood from his torso and bandaging himself up), Compa and Jack headed towards the basilicom. Since it was a weekend and she was only at work during the week, Compa was on her time off. That meant she had also decided to call up IF and asked her to meet them outside the Planeptune basilicom.

Jack and Compa stood on the hexagonal floaty things that were taking them to the basilicom. Jack was constantly withdrawing various weapons and fiddling with them, much to the concern of those nearby, and Compa. "Why do you have so many guns?" she asked innocently. Jack shrugged, aiming down the AK's sights and zeroing it on a passing lamppost.

"Because guns are fuckin' awesome," he replied casually, racking the bolt and readjusting the sights again once he realized he hadn't done it right. "Back where I'm from, I never would've even seen one of these beauties, let alone carried it every day like a manbag. So imagine how great it feels to carry around eight different guns that'd make Theresa May shit a fuckin' brick and go whingin' to parliament about inadequate gun laws." Compa stared blankly at him.

"I don't know what any of that even meant, but OK, whatever you say, Mr. Lunny."

Jack made a 'pfft' noise, and chucked the AK over his shoulder, returning it to his disk.

Upon finally reaching the basilicom, Jack caught sight of a certain brunette with a giant coat already waiting at the entrance. Upon sighting Compa advancing through the crowds towards the basilicom, IF looked fairly happy, before she noticed Jack and looked quite unhappy. Jack couldn't figure out why, though. Compa, meanwhile, waved to her childhood friend, picking up into a light skip as she approached. "Hi, Iffy!" beamed the nurse.

Unusually, IF offered no response. Though Jack hadn't even seen her since she went to hospital a month before, he was fairly certain she wasn't normally this angry-looking. Usually, she was fairly miserable, but not angry.

As he and Compa approached, IF picked up some speed in her walking to keep alongside them. They waited two minutes for the elevator, then boarded. IF's face set dead serious as it rose up, glaring at Jack.

Before he or Compa could react, Iffy had reeled back, raised her fist, and...

Jack slipped his hands into his pockets, staring confusedly at IF's fist that was planted into his stomach. Compa looked at them both in a mix of horror and confusion. IF was biting her lip, definitely holding back some tears.

Jack raised a brow.

"...Miss IF, I hope you realize that you just punched solid Kevlar, right?"

IF whimpered and slowly nodded, moving her fist back shakily and clutching the pained appendage to her stomach as Compa rushed to her side to check the injury.

"I-Iffy!" yelped the nurse. "Why'd you try and punch Mr. Lunny?! He didn't do anything!" IF, shakily, looked up.

"H-He hospitalized me for a MONTH...!" she hissed, clearly struggling not to burst into tears. Compa stared at her in bewilderment, trying to see the hand despite IF holding it to her chest like she didn't want to show it.

Dammit! Why was she being so irrational?!

Jack removed his right hand, scratching his chin with a confused expression on his face. "In fairness, I probably should've warned you about Deagle recoil," he mused. "Might've made a difference if I'd just said not to use it in case you hurt yourself, but...y'know. Bit late for that, now." IF let out a growling noise as Compa glared back at Jack.

"How can you be so mean, Mr. Lunny?" scolded the nurse, prompting the man to shrug.

"I support misanthropy and like the idea of asociality so much that I've been doing it for years," he replied casually, adjusting his bandoliers in the manner he normally would in moments of idleness. Compa shook her head, and attempted to calm IF down. The smaller woman, meanwhile, narrowed her damp eyes at Jack.

"I...I'll get you back for it one day..." she muttered under her breath. "And I'll do it in front of EVERYONE..."