Author's Introduction:

There's a troll who systematically leaves disparaging reviews on my work, yet refuses to sign in (like all bullies, this person or persons is a coward). I can only assume they're one of the many, many fangirls/boys who occasionally tear their mouths off poor Snake Eyes' genitals to snarl at anyone who might have an opposing opinion (evidenced by animation and other canons though it may be).

I am posting this for you, "Guest". You seem hungry, and apparently the genitals of fictional characters aren't enough for you today, so here's something else for you to chew on. *flips both middle fingers up* Right here, buddy. Enjoy it. And I'll keep coming up with new stuff for you, so feel free to check back here. As Tony Stark said—here's my address:

Livejournal: Firestar9mm

Twitter: AgentScarlettO

Tumblr: Scarlett-0hara

"I'll leave the door unlocked. That's what you wanted, right?"

First Down

A G.I. Joe Renegades story by Firestar9mm
One of many G.I. Joe stories that she has tons of fun writing, despite some people's protests.

Chapter Three: Under the Water

I get confused when I'm tired
But the last time I saw you we were in a room with
Sunshine in my eyes and water on the floor
I watched you float away
Take me with you

(Merill Bainbridge, Under the Water)

The third time it happened was entirely her fault, and she knew it.

After springing Duke from prison and siccing Flint on the illegal fight club, the Joes were exhausted and running on fumes. The Coyote was still in need of repairs, but Duke stated firmly that rest was more important, and Scarlett hadn't argued; she knew she didn't have it in herself to keep moving just yet. It had been Roadblock's idea to pull off the road at a campground, and no one had disagreed—the Coyote wouldn't stick out there if it were still disguised as an RV, and Flint wouldn't think to look for them there; he'd be canvassing hospital emergency rooms thinking that the Joes had taken Duke for treatment.

Unfortunately, the only treatment Duke could look forward to was from Tunnel Rat's limited supplies. As Scarlett gathered a change of clothes with intent to find the campground bathrooms, she heard the blond sergeant swear softly as the field medic tried his best to patch him up.

"Ow, goddamnit—that stings."

"Sorry, Top," Tunnel Rat said cheerfully. "If we're hunkering down in the dirt all night, you're gonna want these clean."

"It's just a scratch. I'll take care of it myself," Duke said, grabbing for the bottle of iodine.

"Oh, stop being such a baby," Scarlett heard herself say before she could stop herself. "You just got the stuffing knocked out of you in an illegal cage match, tough guy. Can't you deal with a little iodine?"

Duke's icy eyes narrowed, and his gaze bounced to her padded stomach. "Hormones getting to you, Lieutenant?"

Scarlett's eyes shot wide as Tunnel Rat and Roadblock chuckled and shook their heads. Meanwhile, Snake Eyes shook his head, as if he couldn't believe Duke was baiting the redhead.

Muttering a curse, she grabbed her bundle of clothes and stalked into the woods, towards a light she assumed was the bathrooms, the men's laughter echoing behind her along with one last parting shot from Duke: "Call us if you start having contractions out there!"

That idiot, she thought viciously, glad no one could see her face burning in the dark. Serves me right for helping him out. Next time he's in jail he can damn well stay there!

She calmed down slightly once she found the bathrooms. It was amazing how you took simple things for granted until you were using the woods for a latrine and washing your face with river water; she luxuriated in the opportunity to wash up in a sink, with soap—even if it was the gritty pink soap they mass-produced for use in grade-school bathrooms.

Carefully, relishing the hot water coming from the faucet, she washed all the garish makeup off her face. It was a relief to feel clean, but not nearly as much of a relief as taking off the padding she'd worn beneath her disguise—she and Snake Eyes had made it out of one of Tunnel Rat's extra sweatshirts, and there hadn't been time to complain about the distinct odor of dirt and leaves it held.

She eyed the single wooden shower stall, which looked like it hadn't been cleaned recently—a few moths flitted about in the stall along with a walking-stick insect, and the only cover it provided was a flimsy liner curtain that was torn off a few of its metal clips and sagged in places. It was separated from the rest of the bathroom by an equally flimsy liner curtain, and there was a dusty plastic lawn chair in front of it. Despite all this, Scarlett found even these less-than-stellar accommodations a treat given their recent luck, and wondered if anyone would miss her if she took a quick shower. Her gaze bounced to the soap dispenser with the speed of desperation—she could use that soap, and no one else was in here, so she could slip out and get another few pumps of it if she needed to without being concerned for her modesty. The flip-flops she'd worn as part of her disguise would protect her feet against the cruddy-looking floor of the shower stall, and the tentlike maternity blouse she'd been wearing would do for a towel. As for the insects, a blast of hot water would chase them away.

Oh, hot water...

Feeling herself weaken, Scarlett made up her mind. She wanted a shower, damn it, and when would they be in a position she could have one again?

She took a few seconds to stick her head out the door, glancing back and forth. There was a wisp of smoke rising from the Joes' camp—Scarlett wrinkled her nose at the thought of what Roadblock could possibly be throwing together out here—but no one was coming towards the small building that housed the bathrooms, and she was confident that she'd be back before anyone started to miss her. Retreating back inside and dashing back to the shower stall, she yanked the thin liner curtain aside and twisted the taps, feeling a rush of excitement when the showerhead sputtered to life and began spraying water into the stall, disturbing the insects. Holding her hand under the water, she sighed in pleasure at the transition from cold, to lukewarm, warm, to hot. The pressure was a needlelike blast that would feel like heaven after being unable to properly wash up for ages, and Scarlett seized the hem of her oversized shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it onto the plastic chair outside the stall, where it would stay dry. Unzipping her skirt, she dropped it to the floor and stepped out of it, bending to pick it up and throw it on top of the shirt.

"Aww, honey. Where's the baby?"

The sound of the voice behind her made her jump, throwing her body backwards almost into the shower to get out of striking distance. Like the Cheshire cat, Duke seemed to have appeared starting with the grin.

"Drop it already."

Her flat tone rolled off his back; he smiled and drifted closer to her. "Want to try for another?"

She scowled to hide how her abdomen tightened at the idea of what that would entail. "No. I want you to get lost."

"It's a public bathroom, Scarlett," Duke said, smiling.

"Then use the facilities and get out." She'd recovered her modesty by this time and was trying to strap her arms around herself in a way that hid her cheap bra and panties.

"Fine. But just to let you know, the facility I want to use is the one you're standing in," he said evenly, gesturing to the shower with the bar of soap she was only just now noticing he had in his hand.

Forgetting her state of undress, Scarlett seized the liner curtain protectively. "There's only one, and I'm using it."

"Hasn't anyone told you it's nice to share?" That maddening smile was on his face, as though they had all the time in the world.

A mental image of him nude beneath the shower spray, the water flowing in rivulets over the tight muscles she'd felt beneath his fatigues during their previous tryst, flashed traitorously through Scarlett's brain. Her knees weakened and she concentrated on standing up straighter, which proved to be a mistake as Duke's gaze wandered appreciatively down to her breasts, which were thrust forward by the movement, straining at the cheap bra she'd hurriedly bought at the S-Mart with the rest of her disguise. "Forget it, Duke. There's no way we could explain that to the others," she said, then wanted to bite her tongue for admitting, even by omission, that she wanted him to join her.

"Leave that to me," he said smoothly, and reached back to grab a fistful of his shirt and pull it over his head. The movement made his muscles ripple, and Scarlett found her eyes following the round of his shoulders, the hard ridges of his abdomen, the cut at his waist that ran down to his groin. She wanted to feel that carefully conditioned body against her, wanted to trace the lines of those muscles with her fingers, her tongue, so strongly that she had to physically back away from him.

But Duke closed the distance quickly, drawing the outer curtain closed to hide them from anyone who might stumble into the bathroom unannounced. "Here, I'll make it easy for you," he said, undoing his pants, and even that careless, reflexive movement managed to be so utterly male that Scarlett unconsciously trapped her tongue between her teeth. "I'm coming in, Scarlett. Up to you if you want to stay."

Scarlett fixed burning green eyes on him, as if daring him to do it, and then he was suddenly just unselfconsciously nude, the belt on his pants jingling as he tossed the tangle of clothes onto the chair, on top of hers. Scarlett allowed her gaze to sweep down, then up, then down at a far more leisurely pace. If Duke found the appraisal disquieting, he didn't show it—rather, his body betrayed his pleasure at the situation, and the hard, thick length she'd learned by touch rather than sight the first time they'd been together looked just as impressive as it had felt.

Raising her eyes back to his face, she affected an air of nonchalance that was totally at odds with her wildly beating heart, and turned away, giving him a good view of her back as she unhooked her bra. Tossing it onto the chair, she bent to draw her panties down, and she heard the barest groan from behind her as he got a good look at everything there hadn't been time to show him before. Leaving the scrap of cotton on the floor, she stepped beneath the water's punishing spray, turning her face first up to the showerhead, then to look the question at him.

"Coming?"

"Not till I'm inside you," he promised, voice thick with desire. He met her with an almost savage kiss, his fingers tangling in her wet hair, his tongue forcing her lips to open. She felt like she was falling, and only belatedly realized it was because he was bending her back over his arm as he broke the kiss, lifting her to him so he could lick her breasts. Scarlett sighed and arched her back, and he accepted the unspoken invitation and drew her nipple into his mouth, sucking, teasing with the rough edge of his tongue. She stroked the short soft dampness of his hair as he nuzzled the neglected breast, mouthing the sensitive skin beneath it before closing his lips over her. Scarlett moaned softly, letting her head fall back as she felt him take her breast as far into his mouth as he could.

There was no more teasing now, no more double entendres, no witty remarks; Duke's eyes were dark with desire as he stroked her, fingers deftly tugging on her nipples, already brought to aching stiffness by his tongue. Scarlett shuddered as he set her on her feet again beneath the hot spray. Before she could miss his touch, she realized he was holding the forgotten bar of soap, working up a lather with a devilish grin on his face. Scarlett backed up against the wall of the shower stall with wary eyes, but there was nowhere to run, not that she really wanted to escape.

"Oh, man, you're gorgeous," Duke purred as he drew the bar of soap teasingly down her body, one soapy hand greedily exploring her naked skin. When she attempted to gently disengage his fingers from the bar of soap, he relinquished it eagerly, the better to fondle her with nothing but a thin layer of bubbles between them. "I've wanted to do this for a long time," he said, punctuating "this" with a caress of her breasts, his palms scraping against their sensitive tips before smoothing down her belly and around to play lightly along her buttocks.

Drawing back from him was a colossal effort, her grip on the bar of soap the only thing tethering her to reality. "I know what you mean," she said, surprised by how low and throaty desire had made her voice. Duke's confused expression only lasted until she traced the bar of soap along those perfect muscles, explored the line where his abdomen cut sharply away from his pecs, stroked the grooves of hard muscle at his waist that ran down to the part of him she was desperate to have inside her. She wrapped her fingers around him, squeezing gently till Duke groaned, his eyes sliding to half-mast, the hot blue color of a gas flame beneath suddenly heavy lids.

Oh, she'd thought too long about touching him like this, about tunneling her fingers around his thick length and feeling him swell in her hands. Encouraged by his response to her touch, she stroked the velvet smoothness of him, caressing the slick head with her thumb. Duke made a guttural sound of pleasure and thrust into her touch, shuddering. With her free hand, she stroked experimentally lower to fondle the heavy silky testicles between his legs and his breathing became labored, the ragged sound barely audible over the hiss of the shower spray, his head dropping to her shoulder with a muttered curse. Seizing her hips, he pulled her to him, and Scarlett gasped as his hand slid between her legs, her body tightening as he took her mouth in a slow, deep kiss, the movement of his tongue in her mouth matching the movement of his fingers inside her.

"You are so wet," he said appreciatively as her body slickened in anticipation. "So ready for me…damn it." He nuzzled her neck. "We can't, I didn't...I don't have...and you're not on..."

Scarlett figured she shouldn't be surprised. He had said he'd come here in search of a shower—she could hardly expect the man to be prepared every time they ended up alone together. She debated briefly over whether or not to admit to him that she was on birth control—something she hadn't wanted him to know lest he redouble his efforts, which were already putting them in enough danger—but when he pushed first one, then two fingers carefully inside her, she heard herself moan softly and knew there was no sense in kidding herself.

"Yes I am," she whispered urgently, less concerned about the others noticing they were gone and more concerned with needing him inside her to soothe the ache in them both. At his confused expression, she added, "Not pills. Implant. Let's not make a habit of it, but for now, you're good."

Looking almost helplessly relieved, Duke said, "Scarlett, you're the only thing I want to make a habit of," and without further preamble, lifted her, strong hands gripping her thighs. Scarlett made a soft sound of surprise, her legs parting reflexively over his hips as he closed the distance between them with determination, positioning her as best he could. A brief flash of panic struck her at his words—the last thing they needed was to make a habit of this, and hadn't she said it was just going to be once? How had they ended u—ohhh.

Oh, she hadn't imagined it the first time—It was just as good now, he was as good, his length hard and thick inside her, and the shower wall she was braced on was cool against her back, contrasting deliciously with the heat of his skin and the water that poured over them both. For one moment, she worried about how heavy she might feel to him, how uncomfortable it might be for them both to stay in this precarious position, the fact that someone—anyone, not just another Joe, maybe some unassuming camper—could walk in at any minute, but Duke's passion was infecting her, pulling at her, demanding she return it. She let him hold her up, her legs wrapping around him, heels digging into his thigh, the small of his back. It was an effort not to rake her nails down his back—no marks, she told herself, nothing they'd need to explain—and she had to concentrate hard on not tearing her own lip with her teeth in her efforts to hold back her moans.

Duke seemed aware of the strain on her, sliding his mouth over hers and quieting her with kisses. "That's it, baby, hold on tight," he soothed, adjusting his grip, those big hands cupping her ass and bringing her against him as if she weighed nothing at all.

"Don't—don't let me go!" she gasped nervously, tightening her hold on him and pressing her face into his neck, unable to hold back a small, soft mew of pleasure.

The smoldering look he gave her was punctuated with a deep, bone-melting thrust, and she thought she'd break then, her eyes squeezing shut reflexively. "Never," he promised, in that commander's voice, the voice you didn't question, and held her steadier than she'd thought possible as he increased his pace.

Scarlett bit his shoulder as she climaxed, regretting it immediately because it'd be one more potential thing to explain later. But Duke hadn't seemed to mind at all that she'd marked him; he held her tightly as she rode it out, following her to completion with one more strong, hard thrust, groaning loud enough that it raised a hissing echo in the shower stall. Scarlett didn't even have the presence of mind to hush him, her physical satisfaction doubled by the knowledge that he wanted her too badly to keep silent.

For one moment, she simply held onto him, panting, enjoying the nuzzling kisses he was pressing to her neck, until the sharp rap of something striking the tiled shower floor brought them both back to her senses. Glancing down, she saw that one of the cheap flip-flops had fallen off her foot and slapped against the wet floor; the other was still dangling from her toes. Duke's blue eyes blinked at the shoe as he tried to understand its presence; when it came to him, he gave her an amused look.

Scarlett had forgotten she'd had the shoes on entirely, and was embarrassed, her lips curling in preparation to spit a hot retort at him about the germs one could get from a public shower. But something bubbled in her chest with carbonated pressure and she ended up laughing instead, a cheerful sound she'd forgotten she was capable of. Duke was unable to help laughing with her, and the sensation of having a laughing man inside her tickled in a way that made her wish they could continue this in a bedroom.

But there was no bedroom—no time—and this was the last time, she told herself sternly again. But the laughter had struck a chord in her; it was one thing to acknowledge the explosive chemistry between them, to gratify their mutual lust with sex (spontaneous, mind-blowing sex, she hated—almost hated—to admit). But laughter...

Laughter was something more...personal. A sharing that was completely unlike the sharing of their bodies and yet so much more intimate. Duke touched his forehead to hers, their noses brushing, an affectionate gesture that seemed to shrink the world down to just the two of them, and she shivered, partially from the echoes of their shared pleasure but also partially from apprehension at these unanticipated feelings.

Duke seemed to have noticed her mood had changed. Gently, carefully, he let her down, braced her when her weak legs threatened to drop her. "You all right?" he whispered into her wet hair, holding her and taking her shaking. She welcomed the embrace, finding his shoulder a perfect place to hide her concerns, knowing he'd assume it was a force of habit to snuggle up to her lovers.

"I'm O.K." She murmured this against his neck, not having planned to bite gently at his earlobe, but he didn't seem to be complaining—he made a pleased sound deep in his throat at the impulsive caress. She was unable to help adding, "You clean up pretty good, Duke."

Drawing back from her with that electric grin, he reached for the forgotten bar of soap. "Just you wait."

When Scarlett returned to the campfire, well satisfied and in one of her clean sets of civvies, Snake Eyes had already set up her bedroll as close to the campfire as possible. "Hey, you," she said happily, genuinely glad to see him, but he cut off her greetings, gesturing to her head. Scarlett reached up to touch her wet hair, and realized her silent friend's intent. He deftly disengaged her hand from the tentlike maternity blouse she'd been wearing at the prison and gestured at her hair again.

Scarlett laughed. "O.K., O.K. I'm doing it, see?" Flipping her head over, she quickly fashioned the blouse into a makeshift turban, tucking a stray lock of hair up into it as she settled atop her bedroll.

"It's about time," someone groused from across the campfire, and both Scarlett and Snake Eyes turned to see Duke. Snake's face was unreadable behind his mask, but Scarlett was unable to keep her look of surprise completely in check. He was back in the same ratty fatigues he'd been in before they'd showered, and he had dust smeared across his cheek in the exact same place it had been when he'd surprised her in the bathroom. The only explanation that suggested itself to her was that he'd left the showers and purposely smudged dirt on his face and hands while she was getting dressed. She couldn't help but blink a few times in shock, then did her best to get her expression under control.

"I thought you were going to be in there forever," Duke complained, crossing his arms over his chest like a bratty child. "And you didn't have to throw your shoe at me."

Realizing she was expected to field this fly, Scarlett smirked at Duke. "Too bad, Grunt. It's not my fault I got there first."

Duke's eyes flashed hotly at her, and while he didn't smile, she saw the expression tug at the corner of his mouth.

Tunnel Rat laughed. "Come on, Duke. You know how chicks are. They get fussy about this sort of thing."

"Don't call me 'chick', Tunnel Rat!" Scarlett snapped, not having to fake being offended, and Snake Eyes' head swiveled warningly at the field medic.

"I'm calling you selfish," Duke grumbled, bringing their attention back to him, and Scarlett was briefly impressed at how angry he sounded as he got up and collected a bundle of clothes. "I bet now when I go in there the hot water will be gone."

Scarlett shrugged. "Too bad, so sad."

Roadblock chuckled. "That's cold, Red."

"Not as cold as that shower's going to be now," Duke said, then speared her with a glance. "Thanks a lot, Scarlett."

She felt her own gaze warming as it rested on him, and only hope she looked teasing rather than satisfied. "My pleasure."

"Now you guys see why I don't bother with showerin'," Tunnel Rat said airily, leaning back and putting his arms behind his head as Duke stomped off in the direction of the bathrooms. The Joes laughed, although Snake Eyes shook his head.

Roadblock threw an empty flashlight holster at their friend. "I think I'll wait till the morning to shower, seeing as there seems to be a line. Scarlett sure does look like a happy camper, though," the big man added, chuckling heartily at his own pun.

Snake Eyes' head swiveled back towards Scarlett, lingering just long enough to alarm her. Did he suspect something? She hadn't really secured that door all too well, and even that in itself would have been a red flag to someone as perceptive as the ninja commando. How could she have been so careless?

Too late now—there was nothing to be done but stick to her guns. Steeling herself, Scarlett pretended to sniff, turning her back on them all and crawling into her bedroll, letting the fire do what little it could to dry her wet hair. Shivers carried her down into sleep, but whether from the chill of the night or the idea that they might have been caught, she wasn't sure.

Author's Notes:

How'd that taste to you, Guest?

"Bill me."

-Scarlett