A/N: I Have no excuse for how late this is or my radio silence, so I'm just going to leave this here and continue the story. Merry Christmas, everyone who stuck around.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd instantly warmed to a sensation. The weightlessness, the coolness enveloping her, and the way the rest of the world muted itself overwhelmed her, leaving the Viper to drift in the gentle current. Only her idle thoughts rising above the stillness. Wasn't it odd how to feel like she slipped into a completely different world, when she was only a few feet underwater and only a few dozen feet from her friends? What other pleasures had the Elders tried to hide from her species? A slight twinge in her lungs paused her introspection, begging their owner for air, and reluctantly Natasatch complied.

Breaching the surface, Natasatch shook her head and inhaled, enjoying the feeling of the water droplets rolling off her scales. She'd been immersed in water before, typically from the hot sprays of a decontamination shower, but it was nothing to prepare her for the simple joy of a dive in a lake. Unnatural as her genetically-engineered species was, she took to the water almost naturally, racing ahead of her human crewmates. Their long human limbs were no match for her powerful tail, but that little moment of pause likely gave them time to catch up.

Her human friend, Malcolm, was the first of the swimmers to converge on her, mostly because she allowed him to. Turning to face him, Natasatch dove underwater again. She put her nictitating membranes to good use, and swam circles around her human compatriots in the murky brown water, until she grew bored and let Malcolm "catch" her. It perplexed her when all the humans immediately scampered away, but none could escape her once Mercier explained the rules, and they quickly gave up and went off on their own. It gave Natasatch plenty of time to idly float on the waters, which suited her fine.

Her right eyelid winced reflexively, and Viper only had a fraction of a second to process the disturbance before it disappeared. A small flash of light, at the very corner of her vision, which was enough to worry her. The glare of a sniper lens, perhaps? Was someone watching her?

Natasatch snapped her head back to the lakefront, her reflexes ready to juke away of any incoming projectile. Whatever made that brief burst of light ceased, and she couldn't detect anything amiss. Her tail's strokes increased in speed, compensating as she lifted her neck higher out of the water to scan for any threats along the ridges. Still nothing, but she realized that the small cliffs circling their half of the lake grotto would be a perfect sniper vantage, an observation that didn't ease her concern at all.

Another strobe of light flashed in her field of vision, and Natasatch could finally track its source. Several of the humans ashore huddled together, and one stood off to the side with a handheld device. It gave a tiny burst of light again, and Natasatch finally recognized the antique camera, though she wondered how the faint gleam even caught her attention at all. The camera operator must've simply snapped a panorama before focusing on the others.

With that mystery solved, the Viper willed herself to relax. She was an XCOM sergeant among allies, not the skittish alien they had brought aboard. She liked to think she'd trumped her uneasiness about being an outsider, but old fears tend to linger.

A grunt off to her left pulled Natasatch from her introspection. Malcolm apparently decided he wanted to add rock climbing to this small vacation, and began scampering up the rocks instead of wading ashore. She swam closer, watching her friend carefully hoist hand and leg around the jagged edges to reach safe footing. The water falling from his olive skin caught her attention as it reflected the sunlight, and she couldn't help but notice the way his back muscles clenched and relaxed in rhythm as he worked his way up. Natasatch didn't mind appreciating his developing physique, having witnessed the scrawny young adult transforming alongside her. Malcolm still had a ways to go, however, judging by the way he panted heavily when he climbed atop.

She was close enough that the sounds of her amusement carried over to the human's ears, and Malcolm turned over to peer down at his friend. His heavy breathing quieted immediately, trying to downplay his fatigue as he casually commented, "Lovely weather today, no?"

"It's perfect, Malcolm," Natasatch returned. "Thank you for inviting me along."

"Actually, I just passed the message along," he said. "We all wanted you to get some air fresh and not smelling of musty old books. I was worried you might forget what the sun feels like!"

The Viper raised an eye ridge, slightly annoyed. "Tsk, tsk, you ask me for months to start reading fiction books, and then you scold me for doing just that!"

"I wouldn't call what you do reading, more like... 'devouring.'" Truthfully, she approached her unopened collection of written fiction with plenty of enthusiasm after her film serial epiphany, but certainly not to the level her friends claimed.

Despite seeing the Viper roll her eyes, Malcolm continued as he stood, "Besides, you're a natural! You take to water like how... a duck takes to, ah, water." Natasatch easily sensed his cheeks flushing at his verbal bumble.

Natasatch opted to swim closer to the rocks, wanting a break treading water. Her lithe arms grabbed and anchored her body to the stones as she looked expectantly at Malcolm. The man's face looked quite annoyed at his fumble, but he was saved from explaining his metaphor by yet another flash of light to their side.

"Cheese!" announced Morsov, the comrade. leveling an obsolete digital camera at the two as he stood in the shallows. Swiveling her head, the Viper did her best to look as fun and non-threatening as possible, and she'd been practicing just that.

It wasn't her that would cause an issue. A yelp of pain from above broke her concentration, and Natasatch turned just in time to see Malcolm falling back into the lake sideways. She let out a small hiss as she shot herself forward, worst case scenarios exponentially crowding her mind.

Malcolm was grimacing and repeating some word in a non-English language when Natasatch grabbed hold of him. He opened his eyelids at the touch, seeing her own red eyes alight with concern. She asked, louder than necessary, "Are you okay, Malcolm?!"

He grunted, tilting his head toward his legs. "Slipped..." he said, gritting his teeth hard enough to look painful on its own. The Viper followed his gesture, and to her fright, saw a red haze tinting the water. She almost didn't notice the splashing of Morsov as he waded towards them and tapped her shoulder, and he spoke some Earth language she didn't understand when she turned her head from Malcolm. These humans already had over a dozen more languages than they needed, and yet still made up even more.

"I don't understand what you mean," she cut him off. "But we need to take him back to shore!"

Morsov gave a throaty chuckle. "Which was exactly what I was saying!"

He made another comment in his blocky Earth language, but she didn't bother to try to understand it. Working together, Natasatch and Morsov lifted their comrade back to shore, propping him against some bundled towels on dry ground. A thin trail of crimson in the pale dirt led from the water all the way to gash in Malcolm's leg, and the leg itself was staining a spare towel a similar hue. Natasatch felt a small measure of relief when she remembered that her present company included two with medical training, perhaps three of them if Malcolm was forced to self-operate.

Since Taylor possessed the sole medical bag among the group, and a small one at that, she volunteered to start administering treatment. Malcolm winced as the doctor prodded the moderate laceration open just slightly to check for any debris. To Natasatch's relief, she found none, and Taylor pulled her blonde hair back over her ears as she started perusing her modest medical kit. "Don't worry, dear," Taylor consoled. "It definitely could be worse."

A high-pitched alert blared from the two communicators off to the side, startling the tense group. Mercier brought her hand to her brow, letting out a sigh. "You were right."

Natasatch finally asked, "What does that mean? I don't think I've heard that alert before."

The lieutenant lowered her hand and took a deep breath before she explained, "It means a time-sensitive opportunity just came up. You know the drill. Back to the Avenger in ten, airborne in twenty."

"That's... going to be a problem," Malcolm said, monotone. He slowed his breathing and closed his eyes as Taylor swabbed the edges of the wound. Natasatch couldn't look away as she worked, despite how uncomfortable it made her. Not even her own wounds garnered this much attention as her friend's did this moment.

"Agreed," the doctor said. "This will take at least fifteen, and we shouldn't move before Mal here is stabilized. And that ladder is no easy task." She started applying moderate pressure to stem the bleeding, drawing a gasp from Malcolm and a subdued wince from Natasatch.

"So?" Morsov asked. "We carry wounded soldiers back to the dropship all the time."

"That's true, but that's only out of necessity," Malcolm countered. "We're safe here, and I'm not going to die unless I reach the medbay in fifteen minutes."

"Nine minutes now," Mercier's fiance stated, his voice gruff and unfamiliar. That was the first word Natasatch heard from the man all day, now that she thought of it.

Mercier clenched her first as she looked between the rope ladder exit and Malcolm. "I know, I know. Taylor, hurry up, we may have to carry him back anyway. I don't like it, but we need everyone back."

Malcolm spoke up again. "Hey, L-T, why don't we try calling it in? We're not being lost in the wilderness, we're right next to a Haven. I can tough it out until our Resistance friends can come help, and you guys get back to the Avenger."

"I can't, Silva. That's a serious breach of protocol."

"Can't hurt to ask," was all Malcolm had to offer.

"Eight minutes," Mercier's fiance helpfully added.

Mercier sighed again, moving a few paces forward and grabbing one of the communicators. She made gave Malcolm a final look before opening the channel. "I can tell you right now, it's not going to work." The woman pushed the transmit button, sounding off, "Come in, Schultz, this is Belltower..."

To the group's surprise, it worked. Mercier received the go-ahead less than a minute later once she explained the situation, and when contacting the Haven comm officer, he almost immediately agreed to send a few guys to take care of them. Natasatch imagined their perplexed lieutenant was wondering where their luck was four minutes ago, but Mercier knew better than to complain. The group cleared out their belongings by minute five, when the Viper tapped Mercier on the shoulder, trying to downplay her worry as she posed a question.

"Lieutenant, I would like to stay here for now."

"Oh Jesus, Nat, not you too," Mercier said, indignant. "Just because we bent the rules once doesn't mean you can do it again two minutes later! And why, anyway?"

Natasatch exhaled, keeping eye contact with the shorter female. Despite wearing only a two-piece bikini instead of her combat armor, Mercier's presence felt just as strong. "I don't think Sergeant Silva should be left alone, especially with his injuries."

"In that case, I should ask Taylor to stay and help Silva. For one, she's the medic, and two, she won't freak out the Resistance when they come to help."

Natsatch remained level, but suspected some of her frustration started to slip through. The Viper didn't have to glance back at Malcolm to know he was listening intently, and probably silently pleading with his commanding officer. She didn't want to lose this argument. "Sir, Taylor has already stabilized him, and I can assist since he also knows medicine. And, if I remember right, you said the Resistance already knows about me and my status within XCOM." The final part came out softer than she imagined. "Please, let me help my friend."

"He's my friend too, Nat. So are you. Now let's go." She motioned to the rope ladder.

"Please."

Mercier slowly broke eye contact from the alien. She looked at Malcolm, then back at Natasatch, and for some reason, looked over at her fiance, who didn't say a word. Finally, the officer gave her final sigh of the day. "Just because I like you so much, Nat."

Natasatch instantly straightened, now trying to hide her elation instead of concern. "Thank you, Mercier!"

"Stay safe, you two. And, uh," she glanced down, making a peculiar face, "... you know what? Keep the swimsuit, it looks great on you."

She peeked down at herself, and her venom sacs were still held securely by the white fabric, even if that was the only area the apparel covered. "Thank you, I think?"

Mercier's fiance spoke for the third time. "Three minutes."

Mercier lovingly added, "SHIT!"

Judging by their comrades' speed, they probably would have arrived with two minutes to spare, at least Natasatch imagined so. She had faith in her humans. Three minutes later, a powerful hum softly shook the earth beneath the Viper and human, and they looked up to see the gray underside of the Avenger passing above them.

The setting sun was in her eyes, making it hard to see as the craft flew north towards the horizon. Still, the sight captivated her. The Avenger moved with purpose, steady and powerful, with the sunlight reflecting off the hull, and it was the first time Natasatch gleaned a good look from the outside. Come to think of it, this was also the first time she'd seen such pristine wilderness.

The beauty lasted only for a few more moments, since the Avenger shrunk and disappeared over the horizon only moments later. Then, the two were alone. Nothing to do but wait and enjoy the view.

And it was quite the view.

Natasatch slid herself forward, drinking it in, to use the human saying. Metaphors were absent from her old life, every word was meant to be to the point. The Viper closed her eyes, simply enjoying the warmth on her face, and her breathing slowed to a relaxed cadence.

Malcolm gave a low whistle, grabbing Natasatch's attention. "Now that's a pretty sight."

She turned to him, he's grinning at her. She felt a tugging at the sides of her lips, the feeling tighter on the right than the left. Her human friend cocked his head, looking surprised. "Hold on now, is that a real smile?"

Her muscles' tightness hampered her slightly, but not nearly as much as she expected during her response. She teased back, "And the other times weren't real?"

"I'll let you in on a secret, Nat," Malcolm said. "Humans always know if a smile's genuine or not. If somebody does it wrong, we either get really annoyed or really worried. But right now, the one you're doing, it's the most genuine smile I've ever seen from a non-human."

"I find that pleasing. Thank you, my friend." She paused, then raised an eye ridge. "Is there competition in that category?"

"Well, let's just say you're dominating right now."

Natasatch rolled her eyes, and to her consternation her smile wouldn't subside. She flicked her tongue as the idleness resumed, and the coppery tang of blood reminded her how this moment came to be. Their rescuers were certainly late by now.

Natasatch seriously considered suggesting self-operation, despite knowing it would be Malcolm's last resort, when she noticed someone photographing her again. A flash of light from the clifftop caught her mid-stretch, which annoyed the viper slightly. Natasatch was still convinced she was the subject of an amateur photographer as her body instinctively flung itself sideways.

A fraction of a second afterward a bullet sliced through the air she just vacated. When the sniper rifle's booming report resounded through the rocky lagoon the Viper came alive again, coiled and alert as she put a thick rock between herself and where she saw the len's flash.

Malcolm reacted a second or two after the Natasatch, making himself small behind the same chest-high stone as her. Their eyes met, both of their eyes wide and worried as even more human gunfire erupted.

He reached into the pack he'd dragged with himself, pulling out and fumbling with the communicator. He held it upright, and spoke in a hurried tone Natasatch never heard before. "Safari Outpost, this is Sergeant Silva, we are under fire! If these are your guys, tell them to stop shooting!"

The gunfire didn't stop. One round struck the top of their cover, spraying their heads with bits of rock. Natasatch hissed in response. Surely their assailants would wear down the rocks in a few minutes. Blinking out the dust, Malcolm clutched the radio tighter and repeated his plea.

The communicator finally responded. Natasatch couldn't pick up any words in the chaos, but the voice sounded deep and firm. Her worst worries were confirmed when Malcolm's worried face dropped to a look ofdisappointment.

"What now?!" The Viper asked, nearly yelling.

He looked back up to her. "I don't think they believe we're XCOM," he answered. "But our rescue wants to kill you anyway."

A sigh she released turned into a low hiss, as the Viper's body went icy cold, but also molten hot. She hadn't been this fired up in months, and it almost felt relieving. Malcolm's hand went back into his bag as she peered over her cover. Four targets were advancing on them, plus the sniper above. Natasatch lowered her body down, planning a response as her mind and instincts worked in tandem.

She tssked. "It will take more than a simple rescue to kill us."