Disclaimer: Yep… I'm still not in ownership of Halo. Hasn't changed. Probably won't, but better to be safe and say it every chapter right?

Reviews:

Nid- Alright, thanks for the review nid. Just to clear up a few things, the Chief is close to 43 during the games and since this takes place during the following peace, there's not much to do about him being 50+. About the teenager beating up on him, well… that's what the story's going to explain. Hope you understand and thanks for your input.

Covenant Dance117- Again, I appreciate every review and all the advice you readers have to offer. I find that I'm being misunderstood. My fault as the writer, but I'm trying to get better. In the meantime, this fic takes place roughly ten years after the end of halo2, which is why MC's in his fifties. Also, Nimori is … well… her unreal fighting abilites are part of the story so I can't explain why she fights like that just yet. The character I've envisioned her to be is more anime than drawn from the halo universe and that's the same way I wrote the fight earlier. Less realism, more fancy show stuff. Sorry about the mix-up, and thank you once more for you review.

Chapter 4: Something More

Master Chief steadied his BR55 Battle Rifle against his shoulder, the sleek weapon seeming like a child's toy in the hands of the massive Spartan. He wielded expertly, calming his breathing and even slowing his heart rate to aid his aim. The sights settled down and with a gentle squeeze of the trigger… three 7.62mm rounds pierced the middle of the target, nearly going through the same hole. While most soldiers would've just dropped their rifle and admire their handiwork, the Chief kept on the target until his ammo ran out.

Letting his body relax, the Chief removed the magazine and placed both it and the rifle on the table in front of him. He loved that gun, both aesthetically pleasing and unparalleled in effectiveness. The sharp stacatto of the three round burst soothed his mind and the kick of the weapon felt as good as a massage.

"Massage…" The word seemed to have taken on a whole new meaning since his … experience with Nimori in the infirmary. What was with her? She was far too young and he was too old. Surely she realized that, so why play this game?

"Chief! What're you doing here?" Sergeant Johnson demanded as he strode up to the Spartan. "You should be getting ready for your d-… your appointment." The Spartan spared the man a dry look but his expression softened when he noticed the slip was unintentional.

"I agreed to this 'meeting' of her's to help her get better. I needed to get rid of some tension so I came to squeeze off a couple rounds," the Chief explained patiently.

"Don't you forget what I taught you son," Johnson ordered as he pointed an authoritative finger at the Spartan. "Or you'll find yourself married with kids before you know it!"

The Chief winced. The idea of marriage wasn't just foreign to him, it was hated. He'd always felt that way and he still did.

"How could I forget?" was all he said as he gathered his rifle and placed it in his bag. "I'm retiring for the night. Sergeant." He saluted and the black man returned the gesture with a somewhat angered look. Like a parent knowing their child was about to go do something they were told not to. Master Chief ignored it as he left the firing range.

Once he was back in his room, he put his weapons away carefully and stripped down to his shorts before laying down for his nap. People generally told him that he was at the age now where he had to take a nap at some point during the day. He never felt he needed it, but this time he decided he would need rest for the upcoming encounter.

"Come on One-One-Seven. Pull yourself together. It's a little girl!" he said to himself. The girl just wanted dinner and probably wouldn't be able to make it anyway, yet he was acting as though he was about to wrestle a Brute with one arm behind his back. Of course, he'd said "It's a little girl," when he went to 'spar' with her. That hadn't gone as it should have with 'just a little girl'.

Pushing the thoughts away for another time, he closed his eyes and relaxed his body. The sweet sound of gunfire filled his mind as the tension drained out of him. Feeling a good deal more comfortable with an imaginary battle around him, the aging soldier fell into a light sleep.

His mind still remained somewhat active as it kept track of the world around him. Stray thoughts penetrated this normally detached piece of mind. Thoughts of the fight earlier, of that smile that was doing a number on his cold heart, of her. He began to catch pieces of his dreams, of her, and tried to get rid of them. In so doing, he ended up immersing himself in the dream and thus slept much deeper than usual.

He was awoken by the feel of something covering his face. His instincts kicked in as he immediately seizd the wrists then pushed his 'attacker' back as he rolled from the bed. The would be aggressor was pinned beneath the Spartan, hands pushed to the floor on either side of the head. For a moment, the super solider stayed there and tried to gather his wits. Going on pure instinct always got him into trouble if he went for too long on them.

"Do you mind Chief? You're really heavy!" a familiar young female voice met his ears, sounding strained.

The sound of this girl's voice snapped him to reality and he found himself in a …compromising… position on top of Nimori. Quickly, but not so fast that he showed how scared he was, he climbed off of her and helped her up.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked calmly as he looked her over.

"Well, your heavy ass just sat on me and I haven't died, so does that answer your question?" The Chief was a little taken back by her sharp reply. She must've seen it for she gave him that smile again.

"Don't take it too hard. At least it's muscle and not fat." Her eyes moved all about his body. "Very lean, very defined… muscle."

It was then he realized that all he was wearing was his shorts. That look in her eyes told him that she had no qualms about going purely on instinct. To head off any regrettable actions, he immediately crossed the small room and pulled a shirt over his body. Her sigh at his covering told him he had done exactly as he intended.

"What were you doing?" he said suspiciously as he turned to face her. She was laying on the floor with her head propped up in one hand and her legs slightly bent. The Chief couldn't help but notice the amazing curvature of her body as she lay stretched out in front of him.

"I dunno," she said innocently. "I like the feel of your face I guess. Though your chest looks a lot better." Master Chief resisted the urge to grab another shirt, instead just adjusting the one he had on. "Too bad you covered it. Of course, there's still plenty to enjoy."

"I thought you were here for dinner." A little uneasily, the Chief sat down on the floor beside her.

"Ah yes." She reached underneath the bed and slid out a couple trays of food. He lifted an eyebrow. "I didn't know how you would react when I woke you, so I figured it would be safest if it was somewhere you wouldn't be able to thrash at it."

"Beneath my bed…" he said wryly. She nodded, flashing a childish smile this time. "Okay. So… I guess we already established that you're feeling better." He took one of the trays and started on his piece of meat that probably represented steak.

"Never better." She looked across at him. "Hey, slow down! Don't you know how to eat in front of a lady?" He'd already finished his 'steak' and was halfway through the mush that represented mashed potatoes. He spared her a mordant glance.

"A lady? Girl, you're young enough to be my daughter," he pointed out before finishing his mush. She sputtered on a bit when he got back into his food, but eventually just turned her attention to her own plate.

"So Chief, what'd you think of my fighting?" she asked as she delicately cut a piece of 'steak'.

"You're a lot stronger and faster than any human I've fought before," he answered once he downed his drink. "But you don't have the experience to really use that." She laughed softly and he looked to her to find that she was just gazing quietly at him A quick glance at her plate showed that she hadn't taken a single bite.

"Oh if you only knew what you were dealing with…" There was that woman's voice again. Her features somehow seemed more mature now than there were just a few minutes ago.

"What do you mean?" he snapped. The sharpness in his voice wasn't quite intended, but he really didn't care too much. This girl … woman… was up to something and he didn't like it one bit.

"You'll see." His eyes narrowed and she responded by dropping her gaze to her tray. "A girl can't reveal all her secrets now can she?"

"I'm not someone you want to play games with Nagase," the Chief said coldly.

"What? You don't like my game?" she giggled as she met his eyes once more. "But you're doing so good! I can't manipulate your actions, but I imagine I've thrown your mind for a quite a loop." His fist clenched, the muffled ringing of his metallic joints popping audible in the quiet room.

"I don't know who you are, but it's time for you to leave," he growled darkly. Her gaze met his death glare without even the slightest flinch. This woman was definitely more than she seemed.

"Oh! Have I angered you Chief?" she said worriedly. The look in her eyes was as passive as her voice after a moment, but they still held the Chief's glare. "I'm sorry! Please, I'm not trying to do anything bad…" she reached over the plates and put a hand on his. He snatched his hand back immediately. She held her face in her hands and looked as though she were beginning to cry.

"Hrmph." Why was her crying affecting him? He felt as though he should apologize or something, but he didn't know what to do. It bothered him that he cared enough in the first place, but that he wanted to do something about her sadness? After a moment, something Johnson told him came to mind. The older man's teachings were starting to come in handy.

He circled around the trays and wrapped her in his arms. She let out a startled gasp and tensed, but relaxed quickly and laid her head against his chest.

"Who are you?" he asked gently, but in a way that brooked no nonsense. She snuggled a little closer to him, clearly uncomfortable in answering the question.

"I can't tell you. I can only show you," she answered after a long pause.

"You don't truly know someone until you fight them," Master Chief quoted a source he couldn't clearly remember.

The woman in his arms nodded. She squeezed her arms around him before unwrapping herself and standing. He followed suit, though nearly fell again when she leaned into him again.

"Um… let's go to the gym then…" he said shakily. Nimori looked up at him, appearing to be a child looking up at a parent rather than … whatever relationship they had right then. There was a … look… in her face as her dark brown eyes locked his. Then she tried to destroy his composure with her magnificent smile.

"Yes, let's."

A/N: Okay, not what I wanted to happen, but this chapter started getting longer than I wanted so I'll just make the next chapter what I want. I hope you're enjoying things so far, and before you tell me all the things I got wrong in the halo universe, keep in mind that I'm not aiming for the story to be 'halo accurate'. All I need is the Master Chief and his Spartan bad-assness. This is kind of a literary version of a halo anime with a little twist from me.

I started this fic as just a hyper 'what if' kind of one shot and only just now thought of making it deeper. I'll explain everything in time, but for now, I ask that you try to enjoy the fic and give me constructive criticism to help me write better. I appreciate every hit and every review, so please don't think I'll just turn your info away. I promise I'll reveal some of Nimori's secrets soon, that way the reader understands more of what's going on.