Wow guys, I am so sorry about the wait. I just had writer's block for the longest time. I really had run out of ideas, but a couple days ago, I just sat down and started writing for the sake of writing, and I came up with a few ideas. Also, after you all have finished with this chapter, please check out my polls. One of them in particular could sway me in how I intend to end this fic. Thanks again for your patience with me, and I apologize again for the wait.

Breakfast the next morning was an unusually quiet affair. Sarge had actually come down to the dining hall to eat with the rest of the team, but the look on his chiseled features was grave. Simmons hadn't said a word; Grif was twiddling his thumbs idly; Donut sat and stared into space, and Lori chewed her lower lip, her arms crossed in agitation.

"Team," began Sarge in a serious tone, "yesterday marked a tragic event in history."

"World War II?" Donut piped up.

"No, you moron! The capture of our flag!" snapped Simmons. The maroon clad soldier had been edgy since he had let the flag be taken. Simmons glanced at Lori for a moment, his jaw tight. Sarge cleared his throat and continued.

"We need a plan," he stated plainly. "I vote that Grif plays th' decoy."

"Whoop de fucking do," Grif cheered lamely.

"Donut will stay here with me an' guard th' base," Sarge went on. "Simmons, you an' Lori will infiltrate the Blue base an' git the flag back.

"Sir, with all due respect, I just had a bullet removed from my spleen," Lori cut in, laughing nervously. "Plus, Simmons and I—"

"DID I ASK FER YER OPINION?!" Sarge bellowed as he slammed a fist down on the table. "I have given you an ORDER, private!"

Lori bowed her head and mumbled, "Yes sir."

"We'll… we'll get the flag back, sir," said Simmons, though his tone was not as usually confident or sure.

Lori felt a cold, dead feeling in her stomach. All of sudden, the military did not seem so great, and all because she hadn't done her job of protecting the flag. If she had, this wouldn't have happened—she was sure of it. Now, though… now they had screwed up, and she would have to help fix everything.

Grif's diversion was perfect. Using the Warthog, he had driven straight towards the base, causing mayhem on the Blue side with several fired shots and of course, that incredible music. While the Blues were distracted by Grif's, well, unique maneuvering, Simmons and Lori kept to the edge of Blood Gulch. The heat was stifling, causing the pair to be even more hostile towards each other. In fact, though they had only been out there for a few hours, they were quite fed up with one another. The only thing that kept them from beating each other senseless was their individual wounds, and thankfully, sighting a small cave.

"Thanks to every god in heaven," Lori sighed, wiping her brow as she took off her helmet. Inside the cave, it was pleasantly cool, and there was also a small pool with fresh, clean water.

"You mean thanks to me for spotting this place," Simmons corrected, kneeling at the edge of the pool and splashing water on his face. His dishwater blonde, crew cut hair grew spiky with the moisture, making his head look like something of a porcupine.

Lori scoffed. "Excuse me, but it was ME that spotted it, not you. You were too busy complaining about how hot it was and how much your damn foot hurt."

Simmons snorted but didn't argue. He just didn't have the energy. Lori, who had stripped off her armor, lifted her tank top to change the bandage on her torso. She knelt next to Simmons at the edge of the pool, gritting her teeth as she carefully bathed the wound.

Simmons sighed and plopped down a short distance away. Why had Sarge made the two of them go get the flag? He and Lori hated each other. He frowned and waited for Lori to finish changing her bandage.

"I think we should wait until it's dark," he said when Lori stood up. His wounded and irritated companion made an exasperated motion and sat down again.

"Fine," she said shortly, folding her arms.

There was a very long, tense silence.

"…I'm sorry," Simmons uttered quietly. Lori shifted in her seat next to the edge of the lake, staring at her reflection in the still water. A frown still occupied her face.

"Don't worry about it," she replied stiffly.

Their conversation after that was minimal and forced. When they got hungry, Lori made them a cold meal, as they couldn't start a fire in the damp cave, and if they made one outside, the Blues would see them. As day wore into night, though, it became increasingly colder. Inside the cave, the moisture chilled the air, and soon they were shivering. So, they decided to make for the flag at the Blue base. Both of them put on their armor and exited the cave. It was much warmer outside.

"It's a shame Grif's distraction was pointless," Lori remarked. He could have been shot, or even killed by those Blues, and that unsettled her.

"It kept us from getting shot," Simmons pointed out. Lori shrugged, conceding the point, and nodded toward the Blue base, which loomed ahead.

"Well, let's go get our flag back," Lori said, squaring her shoulders. Simmons nodded, and the two of them crept into the shadows, skirting the base until they reached the back. From their vantage point, they couldn't see anyone guarding the entrance. Now it was just a matter of who would go in first.

"I'll go," Lori whispered.

"But you're hurt—" Simmons started to argue.

"I said I'll go," she repeated with finality, her grip tightening on her gun. "Just… back me up in case anything happens."

"…All right," Simmons replied after a moment.

Without another word, Lori moved stealthily towards the base, pressing her back against the wall space next to the door when she reached it. She slowly leaned forward and peeked inside. With night vision equipment, she could see the masts of two flags, but she couldn't see anyone guarding them. Lori motioned to Simmons, and he crept up to the other side of the door.

In the silence, their soft footsteps seemed magnified tenfold. Lori's jaw tightened as they made their way down the hall into the base. There was still no sign nor sound that the Blues knew they were there. However, this only made them more uneasy. With every passing second, their chances of being found increased.

'One foot in front of the other,' Lori recited to herself to keep her wits about her. The two flags were only feet away; now that they had reached the central chamber, the two of them could separate and keep watch for any Blues. Simmons cut to the left and Lori reached out, grasping the flag with both hands. She breathed a sigh of relief when Simmons silently informed her that there were no Blues around. Now they just had to get back to the base and—

"Going somewhere?" asked a smug voice directly in front of Lori.

Simmons made to shoot, but the unknown assailant shot the gun out of his hand before he could even level it. Simmons growled, but raised his hands in surrender; he had no other firearm.

Lori would have tried to help, but someone suddenly restrained her by locking their arms around her torso. She struggled to reach her pistol, but then her restrainer pressed a gun to her helmet.

"D… Damn it," Lori snarled, mad most of all that she hadn't predicted their enemies might have cloaking.

Church disabled his cloaking and removed his helmet, smirking so broadly that he looked as though he had just been promoted to king of Blood Gulch.

"You Reds really do blow," he snickered. "You," Church snapped at Simmons, who shot him a venomous glare, "go back to your base and tell your leader he can have this chick back in exchange for control of your base."

Rage welled up in Lori then, her eyes blazing with fury.

"There's no way in HELL Simmons would agree to that, you cock sucker!" she bellowed, struggling uselessly.

"Do me a favor and shut up, sweetie," Church replied calmly. "Tucker, take her to the bunks and lock her in a room while I negotiate with this Red," he ordered. Tucker sighed.

"Why do I always get the boring jobs?" he whined before dragging Lori away, who struggled without end.

As she was pulled farther and farther away from Simmons, Lori shot him a pleading look, her eyes, which so often burned stoically, flickering with a hint of fear and despair. "Don't listen to him, Simmons!" she shouted. "Forget about me and—" She was cut off by Tucker's armored hand over her visor, and Simmons and Church disappeared from sight.

--

Lori squinted in the bright light of a phosphorescent bulb as Church paced back and forth in front of her, looking exceedingly smug. She was bound to a stiff metal chair, with Tucker's hands resting on her shoulders. Another private sat off in a corner with a set of cards playing solitaire, his armor the standard issue blue. Were it not for her situation, Lori would have wondered why the hell he was playing cards.

"So…" Church said, his voice dripping with sweet triumph, "we finally caught a Red."

"Bite me," Lori sneered, her blood boiling. Church smirked and laughed softly.

"You got spunk. I like that. How about this," he offered, stopping in front of the chair to face her. "You work for us, and we won't touch your precious base."

"She's going to be our princess, right, Church?" the solitaire playing private asked excitedly. Church groaned in exasperation, laying a hand over his eyes.

"Yes, Caboose. Our… princess, yeah. Anyway—"

"Princess?" Lori blurted, finding the notion absurd.

"Don't listen to Caboose," Church said firmly. "Now, as I was saying—"

"But doesn't a princess need pretty dresses and nice things to eat and a prince?" Caboose interrupted again, growing more and more excited. He was already on his feet, hands clasped in his fervor.

"Caboose, shut up," Church said shortly. He was starting to get annoyed.

"Sorry Church… but… who's going to be the prince?" Caboose asked timidly.

"We'll figure that out… later," Church said to placate him. "But right now we need her to give us some information."

"Princesses shouldn't be tied up. They're supposed to be treated nicely!" Caboose argued, hurt in his voice.

"She… has amnesia, so she's scared and violent," Tucker improvised to stop Church's anger from boiling over. "We're trying to get her memory back."

That seemed to satisfy Caboose. "Oh. Well, you could've just said that." With that final statement, Caboose went back to solitaire.

"So tell me about your base, Red," Church began again. "How's it set up? Who's the leader?"

"I'm not telling you a thing," Lori spat coldly. Church's eyes grew steely and he bent down until they were nearly nose to nose.

Lori spat in his face.

The sting she felt on her cheek didn't hurt—it was a reminder that she wouldn't betray her comrades at any cost. Not even Simmons, who had been forced to return to Sarge and the others not only without the flag, but without her. Lori's heart ached as she thought of all of them back at the base, especially Grif. She even felt for Simmons. She felt for Grif for his caring and understanding, and Simmons for his teamwork. She and Simmons had just reached something of an even keel, but now that was useless owing to Lori's capture.

Still, she wouldn't betray her team for anything.

Even though she was now the picture of a damsel in distress, Lori knew they were counting on her, and she wasn't going to let them down.

Again, I'm so sorry it took me this long to update this fiction. I hope that the Blues are in character as far as Church and Tucker go. I'm pretty sure I've got the general gist of Caboose though :) He's just... cute. Stupid, but cute. There's more of him in the next chapter, which I am still in the process of writing. It will be up ASAP, I promise!!! And please, PLEASE visit the polls I have. One is in my profile and the other is in my forums.