A/N: I own nothing except the laptop I wrote this story on.
It had been five days since his conversation in the rain with Revolver Ocelot. During that time, the Boss and the silent sniper Quiet had been roving through the Afghan deserts, collecting on side op missions ranging from wetwork (assassinating a colonel – Snake chose to extract him instead) to rescue (Snake had saved a brother and sister, both of whom worked for a medical NGO, that were captured by the Soviets for "trespassing") to the bizarre (why did Master Miller want those goats and that wild ass extracted back to Mother Base? Even Quiet had seemed confused). Pequod had stayed in the general area, keeping Baby covered up and hidden in the mountains until he needed to come in for exfils or even a gun run. But it had been five days in Afghanistan, and at one point a 48-straight hour run where he was flying Baby or keeping her from falling apart as the Boss and Quiet ran around completing some smaller operations at a breakneck pace. She was also out of rockets and down to her last clip of the .50 caliber miniguns sitting under her nose. Pequod didn't want to know what the Boss had done to warrant needing to figuratively burn that Afghan village to the ground, but he figured that something had gone wrong.
He was relieved when the Boss gave the order for a full extraction: they were all hot, exhausted, dirty, and needed showers and hot meals back at Mother Base. He was sick of having to "cook" cans of what were allegedly ravioli by letting them sit out in the midday heat: he figured he was probably going to get dysentery from that shit, but meals were meals. Still didn't hold a candle to pierogis, though.
He couldn't resist letting out a yawn as they entered Indian Ocean airspace. It was still a good hour or two before he'd have to check in with Mother Base air control; he wondered if it was Eel or Crocodile working air traffic controller today: the former was delightfully snide about his job, the latter so impossibly grumpy about his place in life that it simply had to be a cruel joke that his codename was "Grinning Crocodile."
He took a peek behind him to the ACC. The Boss was applying something to the ceiling of the helicopter. Beside him, Quiet was lying down on her bench. She was half asleep from the look in her eyes, but she was also clearly watching what Snake was doing with curiosity.
"Ok, I gotta ask, Boss." Pequod said, breaking the silence. "What are you doing and is it going to defile Baby?"
"Relax, Pequod. I would never damage your girl." Snake said. There were a couple streaks of dried blood running down his forehead; the Boss had been cracked in the head by a glancing blow from a rifle butt. If it wasn't for Quiet's impeccable timing and accuracy, he wouldn't be around. His uniform was also dusty and dirty and ripped up in places, and looked like it needed a week in the wash. Even Quiet was spackled with mud and dirt. Pequod hadn't gotten into the field unless one counted "sweeping off underbrush and tarps that covered the helicopter", but he was sweaty and smelly himself. They were all a rotten-looking bunch. So it was nice that humor still prevailed. Pequod gave a thumbs up.
"Good. Because if you were to, at least buy her dinner first."
"Dinner, huh?" Snake asked, momentarily stopping what it was that he was doing to look over at his pilot. There looked like a trace of a smirk growing on his lips. "What exactly would her fancy be?"
"Baby? Oh, let me see…" Pequod said, tapping his chin in mock thought. "I'd say a full tank of fuel, plus a little wash-down on the side…maybe some nice Chianti and romantic tunes in the background."
"Let me guess: A-Ha?"
"No sir, that was last week. This week it's Billy Idol. C'mon, Boss, get with the times."
"Get with the times, huh?" Snake asked. "Sounds like you're calling me old, Pequod."
"…Am I wrong?"
"…Smartass." Snake said, but he was still smiling a little bit. Even Quiet seemed to smile at that one. With that, the Boss went back to what he was doing before.
"Still didn't answer my question." Pequod said, making sure to wait just long enough in order to convince his superior that he'd forgotten. Judging by the slightly annoyed grunt in the back, he'd waited the perfect amount of time.
"Hanging up photographs." Snake finally said. "Though I'm seriously debating cutting yours out of the picture if you keep this up."
"What for? Asking questions?"
"Being nosy." Snake clarified. "For all you know, I could be hanging up pornography back here."
"I doubt that, Boss."
"Yeah? Why is that?" Snake asked. Pequod took a moment to turn around and look back at him, grinning like a jack o' lantern.
"I don't think she'd let you get away with that shit, sir."
He jerked a thumb towards Quiet, who simply shook her head while staring at the Boss like she was trying to set him on fire with a glare. Snake gulped, and sat back in his seat. Perhaps it was best not to make jokes about that anymore. Quiet seemed satisfied with herself, and sat back upright with her arms across her chest and one leg crossed over the other. She closed her eyes and seemed to fall asleep. Sighing heavily, he decided to follow her lead and catch a wink himself.
…
He was jolted awake by Pequod's voice.
"Rise and shine, ladies! We're in Mother Base airspace. Thank you for choosing Pequod air. Touching down now."
He gently and deftly maneuvered the helicopter so that it was safely and securely stationed on the helipad, and then opened the doors to the ACC. Quiet hopped out of the helicopter, followed by Snake. Pequod was the last to leave, having turned off all of the machinery inside the bird and signaling to the control tower that this helipad was off-limits for landing (as there was cleaning to be done). Ocelot was out there to greet them.
He looked the three of them over, his face expressionless. Finally, his lip curled in disgust and he found his voice.
"Boss…you all stink!"
As if on cue, the other soldiers that were standing guard on the helipad released the coughs and wheezes that they'd been holding in, one of them even doubling over. Snake shook his head in disbelief, but Ocelot opened his mouth first.
"I'm putting a moratorium on you doing anything, and I mean anything, until you're cleaned up. Jesus, Boss, we might be all soldiers but this is a public area. Gotta socialize every now and then." He jerked his thumb over to the medical platform. "Get over there and clean up. And then give them that uniform, so that they can clean it…or burn it. Whichever is easier." Quiet simply disappeared. "She knows what's up. As for you-" Ocelot pointed towards Pequod. "You need a break. Nothing for the next two days. And for God's sake, take a damned shower."
"Don't need to tell me twice, sir." Pequod said, practically running Snake over as he ran for the barracks shower.
…
Later that evening, Pequod was sitting out on the helipad with Baby, lazily resting on a terrible folding chair with his feet kicked up on the ACC floor: it was the best he could do for an ottoman, but his helo, his rules.
He chuckled when he heard a rustling noise.
"Back for more, are we?"
Quiet materialized next to him, sitting on the edge of the ACC floor with her feet dangling over the edge. She was holding a tape. Pequod grinned.
"Whaddaya think?"
She made a face.
"Egad, lady! Are you telling me that you don't like the Stones?"
Quiet made a motion like she was trying to stifle a yawn.
"Quiet, you are lucky that you don't talk: because if you'd have verbalized that golden calf bullshit in front of me I'd have thrown something at you."
Quiet raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"I don't care if you'd have just disappeared before I hit you – which is totally cheating, by the way – it's the principle that counts!"
A full-blown look of skepticism greeted him.
"Goddammit I am not taking this too seriously! You're not taking this seriously enough! The Rolling Stones are not boring!"
She rolled her eyes, and started to hum to herself. Sometimes when she did that, Pequod wondered what her voice sounded like. It was probably pretty and could carry a tune, if her hums were any indication.
"Okay, fine. At least tell me that you liked Awesome Mix, Vol. 1."
The look of glee on her face told him everything he needed to know.
"Thought so." He said. "Tell me what your favorite one is the next time we're out with the Boss. Maybe he'll crack a smile."
No doubt about it; there was a definite blush threatening to form on her cheeks. Pequod chuckled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out something. Quiet looked shocked, and put a hand to her mouth as if she was witnessing him committing a crime. Or, rather, hideously overreacting for the sake of mocking him. Pequod looked at her and frowned.
"You're not gonna tell anyone, are you? I don't get much time to imbibe often these days."
Quiet sighed, and rolled her eyes with her arms crossed over her chest.
"Good. I'll let you take a hit if you want."
Quiet made a face and shook her head furiously.
"Alright, don't say I didn't ask you."
He struck a match off the bottom of his boot, and took care to make sure the snuff in his pipe was lit properly. Within moments, the acrid yet sweet smoke of whatever it was that he'd tossed in there was clouding around his head. He blew a couple of smoke rings, and then looked at Quiet.
"Think you could put a bullet between those?" He asked, a crooked grin on his face.
Quiet looked at him and raised an eyebrow. And then she looked at the smoke rings, three of them still somewhat formed. Then she raised her gloved hand and pointed her index and middle fingers out towards the rings. She made a snapping noise with her other hand, and recoiled like she'd fired a pistol. Laughing, Pequod took a breath and blew the smoke away.
"Attaway, Quiet!" He said, giggling a little bit. Quiet smiled slightly, and then went back to humming a little bit. Pequod took a look towards the main barracks, and raised an eyebrow. "Wonder if things are quiet in there?"
…
"This might be the dumbest idea you've ever come up with, Fox."
"I must agree with Brother Rabbit, brother. This plan will only end in failure."
"Rabbit…Bear…Both of you just shut up." Fox growled, gritting his teeth. "I'm totally ready for the consequences. Come on!"
Rabbit just facepalmed, and Osprey cleared his throat so that all could hear.
"Alright, everyone knows the rules! Winner slams the other's arm to the table, loser has to give the winner his candy rations for two weeks. No touching of the head or face, and no grabbing your hand with your free hand; that's cheating!" He cleared his throat. "Get ready, set, ARM WRESTLE!"
The crowd of Dogs around Fox and Bear started whooping and hollering. Fox's face was a grimace of pain and concentration, and veins were starting to pop in his neck and even one in his forehead.
Bear, on the other hand, had no expression on his face whatsoever.
"What…are…you…doing?" Fox managed to hiss through his teeth. Bear finally grinned, exposing his teeth like a shark.
"I just wanted you to feel that you were doing well, brother!"
He slammed Fox's arm on the table so hard the room shook.
…
Sitting at a table somewhere else in the barracks, they were interrupted from their game of cards when a noise echoed through the hallways.
"Did anyone hear that?" Howling Badger, one of the senior combat soldiers and the first woman the Boss had admitted to the Diamond Dogs, asked. She hadn't even looked up from her hand, an utterly bored and somewhat non-plussed look on her face. She brushed a greying lock of hair out of her face, and continued to stare at the game in front of them.
"Yep. Sounded like the boys." Hissing Coyote muttered. She was from Ghani, originally, and was a trained member of the R&D team. Three cups of coffee, two of them empty already, were at her side. "Who do you think it was?"
"Just give it a minute." Growling Wolf, a former Soviet woman who'd went AWOL from the GRU by faking her own death 'because she was bored,' according to Ocelot, who'd discreetly facilitated her escape. She had platinum blonde hair and a stare that could melt icebergs. It was probably for the best that she was kept deep in the bowels of the R&D unit, away from mere mortals that she could kill with a look.
They all waited. Presently, they heard running footsteps and a huffing and puffing noise. Soon, a rather baby-faced looking soldier rounded the corner and rested his hand against the wall to face them.
"What is it, Otter dear?" Badger asked sweetly. The young man was clearly exhausted, but managed to compose himself in front of the women.
"Main…lounge…arm wrestling…fight broke out."
"Are you saying an arm-wrestling fight broke out?" Badger asked, trying not to smile.
"Would pay to see that." Wolf said.
"Nonono…first arm-wrestling…then a fight."
"Are they connected?" Badger asked. She asked it in a manner that suggested she already knew the answer to the question.
"Yes…loser challenged winner to fistfight…winner has him in a headlock and gave him a blackeye. Well, rather, the loser gave himself a black eye trying to get loose of Bear's headlock."
"Who on earth could piss off Bear so much that it requires him putting you in a headlock?" Badger asked. "He's a complete sweetheart. Who is stupid enough-"
"Fox." Everyone else at the table said. Except for a single person, who seemed like she was desperately trying not to be noticed. Except the soldier saw her, and made puppy-dog eyes.
"Miss Chameleon…ma'am…can you help patch Fox up? He kept muttering something about an 'angel' that'd save him, but most of us thought he was just delirious from smacking his head against one of the doors. Don't know why Bear let it get out of hand like that. I think he just wanted Fox to feel like he had a chance of escaping his…bear hug."
Grey Chameleon let out a massively exasperated sigh, and set down her hand.
"Fine. Just…play my hand for me until I get back, will you soldier?" She asked, getting up from her chair with a huff.
As she walked down the hallway, she tried not to think about the fact that she was sitting on a Royal Flush when she'd had to fold.
Unless he was dying already, she was going to kill that Fox.
A/N: Just another day in the Seychelles.