Chapter 13 - Brotherly Love and Hostile Tradebacks

"Where are these marshmallows you kept talking so highly about, Reggie?" Shawn quizzed his brother as he rummaged through some bags.

"They're somewhere." Reggie replied while he relaced his boot.

Shawn straightened up and gave his brother a disapproving glance. "You're so profoundly descriptive with directions."

Reggie sighed. "Must I do everything for you?"

"I'm going to punch you in the mouth."

Reggie brought himself up from his boots as he placed his fists onto his hips. "Do it. Punch me. Right now. And right in front of half of the team."

Shorty spun on her heels and shouted. "Yes! Please! Fucking sock him right in the chin!"

Reggie extended a long arm to point at her. "Shorty. You're in advocator of violence."

"Wait, so does this mean we all get a free shot at Reggie?" Ivan questioned with a thick accent.

"No, Ivan. It doesn't. I'm only giving Shawn permission." Reggie stated with his chin up, faint grin on his face.

Shawn tossed his arms into the air. "Just tell us where the marshmallows are! Everything doesn't always have to be a game."

Reggie heaved a thick exhale. "You all can be so hard to have fun around-"

"Go choke on a cock." Shorty interrupted blatantly.

"Hehehehe," Ivan unleashed his signature chuckle.

"Oh, I bet you know exactly what that feels like." Reggie remarked, causing Ivan to only laugh louder and Trevor to peer from his position near the retrieved woodpile. Reggie's eyes quickly found Trevor's while he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"You pig!" Shorty began to stomp over for Reggie who took a step back to get into a defensive stance.

"You all are so vulgar and inappropriate…" Shawn commented flatly.

Shorty began to haul back to land a punch onto Reggie. Reggie let his hands out in front of himself as he snickered at her. "Calm yo tits!"

"That is MY line, you ass!" Shorty shouted only increasing her speed and closing-in on Reggie.

"Will someone just go get the marshmallows, please? This is getting absurd." Shawn claimed with mild annoyance as Reggie and Shorty were now wrapped up into each others arms.

Shorty grumbled derogatory terms at Reggie who held her arms together after she had attempted to land a fist into his ribs.

"Ugh, fine! Let me go, Reggie. I'll go retrieve the God damn marshmallows for your lazy ass." Shorty barked.

The taller man released her with a smile and wide, metallic eyes. "Aw, so sweet. You're such an angel." She glared at him as she raised a knee to try to place between his legs. "Whoa there, little lady! Easy with those strikes."

"Just stop being a dodgy bitch!"

"Fine, fine. The marshmallows are in the kitchen. Back of the mess hall. Top cabinet."

"There! That wasn't so hard." Shorty stated as she began to move away and for the exit to the hangar. Before leaving, she sent a quick stare in Trevor's direction who immediately looked towards her whiskey-colored eyes.

After a short walk, Shorty found herself in the mess hall where she moved calmly across the room and for the kitchen on the opposite end. Her eyes caught sight of an object as she moved past the table Rico and Soap had been sitting at hours before. She narrowed her eyes, noticing a pen had been left behind. A very nice pen at that. Growing intrigued, she walked towards it and snatched it up from the tabletop where she promptly began to scribble on the back of her palm. It wrote with fluid, fantastic precision. Deciding she had just found her new favorite pen, she slid it behind her ear before walking with a skip to her step.

Quickly retrieving the bag of marshmallows Reggie had directed her to, she let her legs move her towards the exit where she was immediately met by Trevor who now stood before the door.

He raised his chin towards her. "What's up."

"Nothing." She stepped closer as she observed him closely. "What's up with you?"

He shrugged. "Just came in to check to see if you were having any trouble finding the marshmallows. God knows how big of a jackass Reggie can be."

She smiled teasingly at him. "I know how he works too, you know."

"Yeah, well, he also plays the game of unpredictability and will sometimes switch up his tactics on you."

"Well, thanks for thinking of me." She replied smoothly with a smirk as she moved the pen out from behind her ear. "Hey, check out this awesome pen I found. It's the best pen ever. Today is my lucky day."

He gestured for her to hand it to him. His hand quickly received it from hers as he looked it over. "This IS a pretty nice pen. It's made of some better quality material as well…" he suddenly trailed off before continuing. "You know...I think this is Soap's pen."

Suddenly, the pen disappeared from his hand as Shorty swiped it up from his palm. "Well, not now! It's mine. Finders-keepers."

He chuckled at her. "What are you? Five?"

"You know, it's not every day you come across a pen that's probably worth $12."

He rolled his eyes with amusement. "Right. Well, don't be surprised if he sees you with it and is asking for it back."

"Nope. Dibbsies."

He shook his head at her as he outstretched an arm out to his side. "Ladies first."

"Oh, you're making me so moist with your chivalry." She stated with a comical smile.

Trevor could only watch her with a grin as she strolled on past him and for the door. He turned on his heels to follow her to the outside world, where the sun was setting and a distant glow emitted from the far-end of the base and passed the barracks.

As they approached the group of Darkhorse members, who watched with little entertainment as Shawn and Reggie argued, they spotted a few faces turn to look at them as they became visible in the small glow of the fire. Each face bore a similar, yet highly diverse, expression.

"Reggie. Stop stiffening my fire-starting abilities." Shawn murmured with discontent as Reggie poked the small, hungry fire.

"Nope. You keep your kerosene away. We're gonna do this the old fashioned way." Reggie refused to look at his brother.

"Oh my God-just back up so I can drench the flames in combustible fluids."

"But I already have the fire started! I just need more dried leaves and twigs." Reggie kept a stoic expression as Shawn crossed his arms.

"We're next to the Alps! And in a Mediterranean climate, and it's fucking March."

Reggie stood up straight and pointed a long, skinny stick in Shawn's face; the end was blackened by the recent heat exposure. "Stop with your reasoning."

Shawn swiped his arm and ripped the stick from Reggie's grip, causing his brother to place his fists on his hips with disapproval. "Don't put hot objects in my face, you asshat." Shawn scoffed.

"Why are you calling me names?" Reggie let a forced an upset expression cover his face.

Shawn could only roll his eyes. "You've been calling me names for the past hour. I'm just returning the favor."

"Like what?"

Shawn had to take a moment to laugh as Ivan laughed with him. "Oh, I dunno...like butt bandit, cellar troll, hobbit lord-"

"Don't forget 'foul-bearded wiener bucket'." Ivan chimed in with a large grin plastered on his face. The recollection of Reggie's insult caused a few to emit quick chuckles.

Shawn gestured a raised hand out towards Ivan with gratitude. "Oh, and that one. Let's not forget the wiener bucket."

"Shawn, humans from 10,000 plus years ago could start fires. And it'll be the death of me if I can't turn this huge stack of logs and sticks into a towering wall of fire." Reggie claimed, only causing Shawn to sigh heavily.

"We've been waiting for your stupid ass to light the fire for the past twenty minutes! I think you've had your chance."

"I will not tolerate your hurtful words-"

Suddenly, Shorty cut them all off abruptly as she stomped over towards the two men. Her hand ripped the kerosene from Reggie's hand as she strided past.

"Hey, what are you doing-" Reggie asked as she neared the fire and rose the kerosene into the air. "Shorty! Don't throw the whole-" but then the entire container of kerosene found a cozy spot into the small flames of the fire. As it thudded against the wood, all Darkhorse members stood and backed away. The plastic began to deteriorate from the heat before it ruptured and caused a massive fireball to fill the space around them.

Everyone was luckily fortunate enough to have created some distance before the ball of fire erupted into the sky. A few people cheered as Shawn threw his hands into the air.

"Aha! Fire!" Shorty shouted with a smile.

"Shorty! You fucking moron! I'm not here to treat third-degree burns that your inflicted on people!" Shawn yelled at her as he pulled at his mouth.

"Oh, someone needs to keep you in business." She turned to look at him as she responded nonchalantly.

He could only exhale and look off towards the now enormous bon-fire.

"It's alright. Soap will help to keep him busy." Price commented flatly with his arms crossed and eyes locked onto the orange flames.

Soap peered over at him disapprovingly. "Real funny."

Price let a faint smile appear behind his beard as Shawn let his green eyes fall onto Soap's masculine profile. "It's ok, man. Trevor gets injured a lot too."

Soap's eyes moved to the corner of the vision and found Shawn's stare.

Tatiana suddenly raised some slender sticks into the air. "Marshmallow roasting sticks here!"

A few people went over to help themselves to the sticks and the marshmallow bag which Shorty kept guarded at her side. Eventually, the group of 16 members were able to return to the fire's side as everyone found a comfortable position to gaze into the fire from.

Once everyone seemed to be situated, the conversation returned.

"Hey, Samson. Tell us all the story about how Shawn shit his pants in the car." Reggie requested as he began to blow out the fire on his burning marshmallow.

Samson let a smile pull at his mouth as Shawn huffed with annoyance. "Why do I always have to be the one to get made fun of?"

"Because you're an easy target." Trevor commented.

Shawn looked to his oldest brother. "Samson. Please don't tell that story."

"Now you have to understand we all know the story exists and we're going to want a better explanation." Soap said with his usual tone.

Shawn rubbed his brow while Samson looked over the faces. "Well, Shawn got sick. And we were on the highway with no exit for probably another 8 km. Tried to stop the vehicle in time but we obviously weren't fortunate enough."

"Ok, now let's start asking the important questions." Ivan proclaimed as he let his brow lower with bewilderment. "How old were you?"

Reggie had to relish in a good laugh.

Samson shrugged. "Probably about 14."

The answer caused a few others to laugh out.

"Way too old to be shitting his pants." Trevor pointed-out as he drank from a water bottle.

"I got food poisoning! It wasn't like I chose to blow-ass in the car." Shawn stated with raised eyebrows.

Reggie shrugged as he reached for another marshmallow from Shorty, who was quick to smack his hand away. Before speaking, he gave her a quick look of disbelief. "You just chose to not hold it long enough to give us time to pull-over so that you could unleash the brown flow on the side of the interstate."

While the brothers began to get immersed in their petty arguing over the story, Soap spotted a familiar pen in Shorty's ear. She noticed his now quizzical stare from a few meters away. His hand quickly felt his pockets as a realization occurred to him. Immediately, his legs brought him towards Shorty as she watched him closely.

Once before her, he cleared his throat while she let her eyes narrow at him. He pointed at the pen. "Shorty. I believe you have my pen."

She blinked at him, marshmallow in mouth, and shook her head. "No." She muffled through the fluff of the marshmallow.

He cocked his head and let his eyebrows go flat against his skeptical eyes. "Hmm. Actually, that definitely is my pen."

She swallowed the sugary snack and nodded smoothly. "That's interesting."

"..." He straightened his posture and stared down at her. "May I have it back."

"Nope. I found it. It's mine now."

Ricochet looked from Shorty to Soap, and then back to Shorty with a faint smile.

"You see, I was telling not asking."

Shorty brought her hands up slightly and wiggled her fingers. "Ooooh, so scary."

"Give it back to me, Shorty." He crossed his arms. "I like that pen."

"Oh my God, I like it too! I liked it so much I even named it. I call it 'Shorty's Pen'. I bet you didn't even have a name for it."

"How sure of that are you?"

She shrugged. "You don't seem the type to name things."

"Actually, I named it 'Soap's Pen', and then I even get so creative as to name my other belongings too. You know...things I've bought. With my own money. Some of which include 'Soap's Book', 'Soap's Shirt', 'Soap's Shoes'; the list is ongoing."

"Well, that's special." She stared back off into the fire as she reached for another marshmallow.

Soap sighed. "Shorty, please give it back."

"Your faked manners do not work on me."

"They weren't fabricated. I just want my pen back."

She poked him hard in the chest. "No." Then she grimaced. "My Lord, you feel like memory foam." She let her mouth go flat as she finished chewing her marshmallow. "Oddly fitting…"

Soap jutted a thumb at her and looked to Rico. "You need to control your friend here."

Ricochet could only snicker. "She does what she pleases."

"It's true." She reached for a marshmallow and handed it to Soap who hesitated before taking it. "Go calm down and eat some sugar."

Soap looked down at the white puff of corn syrup before staring at Shorty with determination. "I will get that pen back."

Shorty froze before straightening up. "Is that a challenge?"

"No. It was warning." He replied.

"She heard it as a challenge though." Rico stated as she unscrewed the lid to her water bottle.

"Bring it on, Chin. I bet you your pen you can't get your pen back."

"That wager sure is alluring."

"Good." She was quick to respond.

"Fine."

"Fine."

Then they both stared each other down before Soap decided to leave the little, angry woman's side. Shorty chuckled as he moved away with an air of irritation. Ricochet could only shake her head with amusement at Shorty's behavior.

The night eventually concluded with an overall emotion of content as everyone made their way for their beds. The early hours of the morning were approaching as the moon towered high in the sky and cast twilight onto the base and surrounding landscape below.

Once morning time came, the soldiers dispersed after breakfast, and the women headed for the showers, which was Soap's cue to initiate his shifty character. He was quick on his feet as he sneaked his way into Shorty and Ricochet's room. He wanted that pen back. Feeling somewhat rude as he slid inside and let the door close softly behind him, he moved across the room and for Shorty's side of the space. Both beds displayed signs of organization and neatness, but the most distinguishable factor was the amount of purple on Shorty's side. Her sheets were the basic military tones, but her pillow was purple, as well as several things on her desk and shelf and a small purple area rug next to her bed.

Before walking towards the end table and the space her belongings stood in, he managed to stumble on an unknown object. It squeaked under his foot, causing him to flinch. Looking down swiftly, he spotted a dog-toy, which was designed to resemble a squirrel. He used his foot to slide it to side as he allowed his eyes to wander briefly over Rico's things. A sweet-pea smell became apparent as he drew himself further into the room.

Soap began his search for his beloved pen. He skimmed through some contents on her end table and the desk, but to no avail. Sighing, he started browsing through the four-tiered shelf. Again, his eyes could not spot the pen. Instead, however, he noticed the multitude of model military planes and helicopter models which populated the shelves; several books kept them company. His eyes landed on a HH-60 Pavehawk, which was nearly 16 cm in length. He observed it closely and couldn't help but admire the time and detail which was obviously put into the small, model chopper. Unable to resist, his hands picked it up gently to bring it closer to his face to examine it with admiration.

But, the small Pavehawk did not agree with the size of his hands, as the top set of propellers broke off. Immediately, a feeling of guilt and discontent filled his stomach. Realizing he could not simply reattach the propellers, he returned the model to its original location. He stared it over with mild disappointment as his brain went to work to try and ease the disfastication in himself for having broken one of her nicer models. He crossed his arms, and despite trying to convince himself it was a complete accident and that she most likely deserved it, he still couldn't ease the sense of guilt. He swallowed hard at the thought of having to inform Shorty of the ordeal. Now there was no way in hell he'd get his pen back.

Deciding to quickly retreat, he returned himself to the hallway to bring himself to his room to get his change of clothes for the day. After several intervals of time had passed, the women left the showers to return back to their rooms. Before Soap could leave the sleep corridors, he heard Shorty's high-pitched shout.

"Oh my GOD!" She yelled. "Who did this?"

Then he heard Rico's voice. "Did what?"

"MY PAVEHAWK IS BROKEN."

"Oh...glue it back?"

Shorty grumbled loudly as Soap exhaled heavily and began to prepare a speech in his head while leaving his room.

But then there was a sense of mild hope as she continued screaming. "REGGIE. GET IN HERE NOW."

"I didn't do it!" Reggie was quick to reply as he poked his head out of his room.

"You're the only asshole stupid enough to go into people's PRIVATE rooms and fuck with their belongings."

Reggie met her in the hallway. "Shorty, I didn't do it."

"FUCK YOU, REGGIE."

"What the hell!"

Shorty shook the broken Pavehawk in the air and in Reggie's face. "Fix it or buy me a new one!"

Reggie crossed his arms. "Shorty, I'm tired of getting blamed for things I did not do. I may be a prankster, but I sure as hell wouldn't break anything or lie about it."

She mumbled angrily under her breath as she pondered. Finally, she returned to scolding him. "But you do fuck with people's things. Try to rearrange their room around to make them paranoid. You probably were doing that and broke it in the process."

He shook his head and stood firm. "Negatatory. I only rearrange mine and Shawn's things."

A heavy sigh could be heard from the room behind Reggie. "It's true...he does." It was Shawn.

"Look," she pointed a cruel finger in Reggie's direction. "You messed with my Iroquois, now you're messing with my models. You're on the fast-track to getting your fingers chopped off-"

"Why are you so violent? Would it kill you to just be capable of practicing standard face-to-face conflict resolution methods?"

Before Shorty could respond to Reggie's now intolerant tone, Soap was willing to man-up and step up to the plate to claim ownership to the damage. She was quick to spot his mass coming for them with an air of confidence and calmness.

Once before them, he ran his hand through his hair before releasing the air from his lungs. "Shorty, it was me."

Reggie raised an eyebrow while Shorty stared daggers into the large man's soul.

"...what are you saying?" She murmured.

"I'm saying I am the one that accidentally broke your Pavehawk. I was searching for my pen-"

"THIS IS WHY I KEEP ASKING AND DEMANDING LOCKS FOR OUR DOORS." Her yelling echoed through the halls.

"'Ay, it was an accident. I apologize-"

"No! Now you're never getting your pen back." She was fuming at this point. "CHIN. You are NOT allowed in my room. EVER."

"Well, maybe if you just returned my belonging to me, I wouldn't have gone searching for it." Soap replied smoothly.

She threw her arms into the air. "Excuses! The amount of disrespect-"

"I know, I know. That's why I am apologizing.

"Aww, that's so heart-warming...Shorty, how could you possible be so rude to our Scottish friend here? Just look at that face of sincerity." Reggie let a goofy smile appear on his face. Both Soap and Shorty couldn't resist the urge to give him a frown. "And those charming eyes-"

"Alright, we get it, Reggie…" Soap moved his chastised stare away from Reggie and towards the short, American southwestern woman before him.

"Apology not accepted. You violated mine and Rico's right to privacy."

Now it was Rico's turn to join in. "Do what now?"

Shorty thrusted a thumb in Soap's direction. "This asshole here went into our room and was scouring around our belongings."

"Now, wait one second. I wasn't going through your belongings. I simply was scanning over your tables, Shorty." Soap claimed with a growing mild annoyance.

"Shut your pie-hole! I do not wish to speak to you any longer. You have defiled my personal treasures." She shifted with irritation. "And fuck you and your awesome pen that is now mine!"

Soap stepped closer. "Stop being so snide."

"How dare you." Shorty glared into his magnetic eyes.

"None of this would be happening right now if you just gave me my pen back and stopped being so unpleasant all of the time."

"How about you go take your pen and-"

Reggie stepped in between the two. "Hey, now! No need for hostile tradebacks."

"Shut it, Reggie. You only make matters worse." Shorty stated flatly.

"Looks like I'm going to have to take one of your belongings as ransom, now." Soap commented. His words caused Shorty to send a death ray with her eyes in his direction and from around Reggie.

"You wouldn't. You already broke my Pavehawk." She hissed.

"You actually kind of deserved it." Soap proclaimed confidently.

"I don't like you."

"Feelings mutual, lass."

"Good!'

"I'll be waiting for my apology whenever you're ready to give it to me." Soap crossed his arms and stared down at her with a lowered brow. His tone came out mockingly.

"Haha! Right!" Shorty responded with amusement.

"I think I deserve one. Whenever you're ready-Reggie, what are you doing?" Soap looked over his shoulder once Reggie began to massage the tension from his upper-body.

Reggie shrugged. "You seemed tense. Shorty will be next. What better way to break up a fight than by giving everyone a quick back massage?"

"You better not touch me…" Shorty murmured with contempt.

Soap was unsure of how to handle the situation as Reggie continued with his shoulder rubbing.

"You have fantastic shoulders." Reggie commented.

Soap pulled away from his grip. "I think we're done here…"

Reggie laughed at Soap's uncomfortable expression before turning to Shorty. He cracked his knuckles. "Come 'er, Shorty!"

"I said don't touch me!"

Before Reggie could even come close to touching the warm-complected woman, Samson stepped out of his room and waved an arm in the air.

"Glad to see you all bonding. But I need Soap for a second." He stated calmly.

Soap met his eyes and brought himself in between Reggie and Shorty to meet up with Samson in the hallway.

Once before each other, Samson crossed his arms. "Come see me and Price after your shower. Trevor will be there."

Soap let his eyebrows go flat. "What's the problem?"

Samson shook his head. "No problem. Just the contract you and Trevor were assigned to."

Soap let his mind recollect past events. "Aye. Right."

Samson nodded at him before leaving for the exit at the end of the hall. Soap was close to follow. The large man passed up a smiling Reggie, an irritated Shorty, and a content-faced Rico on his way out.

Quick to clean up, Soap left the showers and found Trevor striding calmly for the far-end of the base. Soap caught up to him, causing the metallic-eyed man to glance at him in the corner of his vision.

"How goes it?" Trevor inquired.

"Fantastic."

"That sounded convincing."

Soap nodded.

"So, we got that body guard assignment coming up. I'm sure that's what they're about to talk to us about." Trevor stated with a serene expression.

"Fat chance."

By the time their conversation came to an end, Trevor's hand found the knob to the office that led into the Darkhorse office. Inside, they spotted Samson staring down at some papers before him, eyes focused, with Price sitting nonchalantly near the corner. The two of them looked up towards Soap and Trevor, who returned the stare.

"Sit." Price ordered as he gestured for a few open chairs before the desk.

Unable to resist, both Trevor and Soap sent each other mildly confused stares before finding a seat.

Price scratched his nose and leaned forward. "You two were the ones selected to take on this body guard contract."

Trevor let his hands out before him. "I'm sorry, but who is it we're protecting again?"

"Belgian politician. She is delivering a speech in several days in Antwerp. Most heavily populated city in Belgium." Samson replied. "She's been receiving death threats. And a lot of them. You two will be her personal body guards."

"What's the level of clearance and priority we have here?" Soap questioned.

"Don't allow her get assassinated." Price answered with his hoarse voice.

Soap looked him over. "Right. I get that. But what about securing perimeters, vantage points-"

"The city's police force will be taking care of that." Samson answered.

Soap nodded with understanding.

Price pointed at them. "You two are just the ones personally assigned to her and her entourage. You keep your eyes sharp and aware, and be watchful to any suspicious behavior."

"How many people are we talking here?" Trevor said.

"The priority is Amelie Jacquet. She's the one the opposers are aiming for. So even if it means using one of her people as a human shield for both yours and Jacquet's safety, you have the clear to do such." Price voice came out with his usual sternness.

Samson looked to the old man with mild concern before moving back towards the two men before him. "But that's the worse-case-scenario sort of deal. We prefer you didn't use anyone as a human shield."

Trevor had to take a moment to snicker.

Soap leaned forward. "And the gear?"

"Standard protocol. You each get a SIG Sauer P226, radios, earpieces, and a combat knife."

"That's it?" Soap asked.

Samson had to smile at him. "That's it. I believe you two have been trained well enough to turn anything into a weapon if needed."

Soap waved him off. "Aye. Just was wondering just how profound a threat this was."

"Well, since you two will mostly be inside the majority of the time, we needed you both to be able to conceal your weapons, in addition to having control over close-range combat, should it come down to that." Samson leaned back against his chair, hands still interlaced. "Once outside and during her speech, the city's police force will handle everything else."

Both Trevor and Soap could only gesture in comprehension as they both stared with profound eyes.

"Oh, and get ready to have your sizes checked. Echo is sending in some of its members to get measurements on you two."

They both raised an eyebrow.

"Suits. Just like the real deal." Samson said.

"You'll both look real sharp." Price stated with a stoic expression.

Trevor sighed and looked off towards a bookcase. "Ah, shit. I couldn't tell you that last time I ever was in a suit."

Soap peered over at him. "Shite. I don't think I've ever even worn a suit."

Samson smirked smoothly at them. "Make sure you look the part and clean-up nicely. We don't need any gaudy or unkempt facial hair."

"When is Echo arriving?" Trevor asked.

"2000 hours. After dinner." Price replied.

Trevor and Soap could only fall silent as they thought things over.

Suddenly, Samson brought himself up. "Well, you two are dismissed. We will debrief you two again before sending you off to Belgium."

"I heard it's lovely this time of year." Trevor claimed flatly.

Soap rose out his chair, Trevor following shortly behind. Both men were quick, but quiet, when leaving the office to return to the outside.

Just a short chapter needed for a smooth transition.

Also, thanks for the reviews!