Part 4! This fic just keeps on growing. Thanks to Xanthiae, Nicco1395 (and I'm so sorry about the dialogue! Key is broken on my laptop!!), and katewantstobecomeanactor for the reviews.

Part 4

When Ryan awoke the next morning, it was to a bed that was surprisingly cold and hard, a lingering image of a suited-and-booted squid brandishing a rolling pin, and a laughing Stephen Hart who appeared about eight feet tall. More than slightly disorientated, Ryan sat up, shaking his head in an attempt to clear the cloud of sleep. Unfortunately, this caused him to crack his head on something wooden and far-too-solid, which did an excellent job of laying him out flat again.

Wincing, Ryan rubbed his now nicely throbbing head, and waited for his usually infallible senses return. But it was only when eight-foot Stephen keeled over, now clutching his stomach, and shrunk to a more reasonable size, that Ryan realised his cold, hard bed was composed of wooden boards, the far-too-solid something was the handle on the chest of drawers and that he was, in fact, lying sprawled on the floor.

Groaning, he levered himself up and round until he was sitting leant against the side of the bed, and glowered at the still weakly chuckling Stephen. After about half a minute, Stephen blinked tears out of now glowing blue eyes (something which might garner him Ryan's forgiveness) and offered him a grin.

'Sorry.'

Ryan glared back.

'Glad I could provide you with a nice morning's entertainment.'

Stephen didn't even have the manners to look bashfully apologetic.

'What were you dreaming about?'

Ryan shrugged.

'Don't recall.'

A total lie, but hopefully Stephen wouldn't pick up on that.

'Do you know you talk in your sleep?'

Well he did now.

'I'm a restless sleeper.'

'Thought you army types were supposed to be able to sleep anywhere.'

'It's not getting to sleep that's the problem. I'm not used to a single bed.'

'I'd never have guessed.'

It was far too early for sarcasm, and Ryan considered giving Hart a bruise to match Connor's. However, Stephen must have picked up on the murderous vibes Ryan was sending out, because he smiled.

'Sorry for laughing. I've just never seen anything like the expression on your face when you whacked your head against the drawer. Wasn't aware an SAS Captain could look so much like a kicked puppy.'

Clearly Stephen was reading his vibes very wrong.

'Shut up, Hart.'

There were a few more seconds' silence, during which they sat side by side against the bed practicing their self-restraint; Stephen holding back his laughter, and Ryan, his fists. Vaguely recalling some of the stranger details of his dream, Ryan felt compelled to ask. Doing his utmost best to sound detached and casual, he said,

'Did I say anything interesting then?'

Stephen shrugged, although the spark in his eyes told Ryan he wasn't buying the casual attitude.

'Nothing of real importance. Just rambling really.'

Thank God.

Hauling himself to his feet, Ryan contemplated whether his need for food or a shower was greater. Deciding his stomach had to take precedence, he reached for a pair of jeans.

'Alright if I use the bathroom first?'

Ryan nodded distractedly, buttoning his fly.

'Yeah, fine. I'm going down to eat first anyway.'

Already halfway into the bathroom, Stephen paused and turned back.

'Breakfast?' There was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

'That's what most normal people eat in the morning, Hart, yes.'

The corner of Stephen's mouth twitched.

'Well, do make sure you avoid rolling pins. Wouldn't want a squid to stick one somewhere nasty.'

Ryan spluttered.

'You said…!'

Stephen's grin was pure evil.

'I lied.'

'You little…!'

But Stephen slammed the door in the nick of time, and the pillow thudded harmlessly to the floor.

Ryan stomped down to breakfast, torn between embarrassment and amusement. He'd spent so long thinking that Stephen was a veritable iceman; cool, calm and always collected, that he hadn't stopped to consider the fact that lurking just below that impeccable surface was a guy that could only be described as a tease. Part of him was highly enjoying seeing glimpses of the 'real' Stephen Hart, but the other part was somewhat irritated that when Stephen shed some of his protective layer, most of Ryan's composure appeared to be torn away as well. In the last day or so, he'd been closer to blushing like a damn school girl than he'd ever been in his life.

Stomping into the restaurant area, Ryan helped himself to fruit and toast, resisting the urge to have a bacon sandwich simply because he was on duty. Somewhat apprehensively, he scanned the dining area for somewhere to sit – it was still a little too early for a dose of Connor or the Professor – and to his relief spotted Becker and Squid sprawled across a table in the far corner.

Wending his way over to them, Ryan winced and resisted the urge to duck as he saw Malibu Barbie and an equally plastic-looking friend settled at a table in the middle. Now was not the time for another encounter.

Sliding into a seat, Ryan grunted a greeting at a barely awake looking Squid, and nodded at Becker, who had his nose buried so far in a cup of coffee Ryan couldn't be entirely sure he wasn't drowning.

For five blissful minutes, the three of them ate in peace, not talking, just relaxing and charging up for the day. Then a tray slammed down, about two millimetres from Ryan's left hand, and an over-exuberant voice, exclaimed,

'Morning guys!'

Ryan suppressed the urge to smack his head on the table. Becker had apparently run out of tact, because he groaned, loud and long (and sounding, to Ryan's ears, faintly obscene) and buried his head in his hands. Only Squid retained some manners.

'Temple.'

Well…sort of manners.

Pulling out a chair, Connor plonked himself down, apparently oblivious to the less than enthusiastic welcome. Ryan noted, in some disgust, that he had succumbed to the lure of a bacon sandwich. There was about a second's silence, during which Connor took his first bite, before,

'Hey, do you know what I realised last night?'

The three soldiers exchanged glances. Once more it was left to Squid.

'No, Connor. What did you realise last night?' Squid's voice was slightly monotone.

'That none of you ever use your proper names!'

What? Where did Temple come up with these things?

'What?'

'You don't! I mean, you use your surname, unless of course, you're Ryan Ryan…' There was a pause here, while Connor and Squid grinned at this joke, and Becker and Ryan (who had heard it several thousand times before) exchanged exasperated looks.

'…and Becker never uses his first name either, and well…what kind of parent would christen their child Squid?! Is it like, an army thing?'

There was a pause, in which Becker, Squid and Ryan all tried and failed to come up with a sensible reply. Eventually Squid said,

'Yes, yes it's an army thing.'

When Ryan raised an eyebrow, Squid merely shrugged, as if to indicate that this had been the easiest response.

'Oh right. So Squid's a nickname?'

'Of course it's a bloody nickname. You didn't think I was actually called that?'

Squid's tone of voice implied he was having serious doubts about Connor's sanity. Oblivious Connor kept going, although Ryan noticed he had finally stopped talking long enough to take a second bite of his sandwich.

'How d'you get it then? Abby reckons it's because you were…you know…'

Squid's raised eyebrow implied that, no, he did not know. Knowing Connor, Ryan wasn't entirely sure he was going to want to either. Connor flushed slightly, as though realising perhaps it would have been better not to have said anything.

'Well…you know…wandering hands, and all that.'

There was a spluttering cough as Becker choked on his coffee, and Ryan couldn't stop a small snort escaping. Squid looked incensed.

'That is not why!'

Connor did have the sense to look slightly abashed.

'Sorry. That was Abby's theory, not mine.'

'What's your theory?'

Ryan knew he'd probably regret asking that, but he hadn't been able to resist. Connor blushed further.

'Well, you're you know…tall. And you have really long legs and arms, so I just thought that…'

'You thought I'd been nicknamed after the animal?'

'Technically it's a fish.'

'Shut up Becker or I'll tell Temple your first name.'

There was no disguising the flash of interest in Connor's eyes, and Ryan felt a flicker of sympathy for Becker at the future he foresaw. Squid was still spluttering.

'Temple, I was not nicknamed Squid because I look like a tentacled sea creature.'

'Oh. Why then?'

'It's going to seem terribly dull after your theories.' Becker commented.

Squid glowered.

'I'm a transfer.'

'A what?'

'A transfer. I was in the Marine Corps for two years, before I joined the SAS. The team I joined decided I needed a desultory nickname. They chose Squid. Implying slime and tentacles.'

'Why?'

'Why implying slime and tentacles?'

Ryan rolled his eyes. The sarcasm flew right over Connor's head.

'No, why a desultory nickname?'

'You don't transfer sections in the forces, Connor. You choose land, air, or sea, and you stick with it. If you do change you can't expect a warm welcome.'

'Why?'

Ryan had lost count of how many times Connor had asked that question. Squid appeared short of an answer. He reverted back to the age-old adage.

'It's an army thing.'

'Oh. How come they still call you that now?'

'Unfortunately, by the time I'd proved that I was worthy enough to risk my life saving their asses, the nickname had stuck.'

'That sucks.'

Squid shrugged.

'Not really. I'm used to it.'

'Why though?'

Squid turned his eyes to the heavens.

'Why what, Connor?'

'Why did you transfer?'

Squid was staring at him in disbelief.

'Nosey little bugger isn't he?' Ryan muttered to Becker out of the corner of his mouth.

'You have no idea' Becker muttered back.

'I transferred because something came up that meant I couldn't be spending months at sea on a boat.'

'Oh right. What?'

Sensing that Squid's patience was rapidly running out, Ryan steered the conversation in a new direction.

'Why don't you ask Becker about his name? Believe me, that's more entertaining.'

Ryan watched as Connor, successfully diverted, turned eager eyes on Becker.

He then found himself cursing violently as a size eight regulation army boot crashed off his shin. Becker smiled sweetly, collecting his things, and rising gracefully from the table.

'Making a swift exit, are we?'

Squid seemed happy enough to join in when Connor was bothering someone else. Becker glowered at him.

'Nothing of the sort. But that's the Professor over by the door, and judging by the way he's waving his arms around, I'd guess that he wants something.'

Looking to where Becker was gesturing, Ryan saw that Cutter was indeed waving them over.

'Quick now, quick now,' muttered Squid, 'before he takes someone's eye out.'

Having finished eating, Ryan swung himself out from under the table, and he and Becker headed across the room, leaving Squid with Connor. Realising belatedly that he'd left his phone on the table, Ryan reversed and headed back to the table, getting within eavesdropping distance just in time to hear Connor say,

'Hey Squid? If I was in the army, what nickname d'you reckon they'd give me?'

Swiftly deciding his phone could wait, Ryan beat a hasty retreat.

Two hours later, freshly shaved and showered, Ryan descended to join the others in reception, obeying Cutter's earlier instructions. As he entered the light airy room he was struck by a strange sense of déjà vu. Standing in a line by the door were Stephen, Becker and Squid, each with a rucksack of supplies, and there was no sign of anyone else at all.

'Where's Cutter?'

'Not present.'

'Abby and Connor?'

'Also not present.'

'Late?'

'Either that or evaporated.'

'Great.'

Ten minutes later, the four of them were still standing there. Ryan was starting to lose patience.

'For fuck's sakes, where are they? All they had to do was get dressed.'

It was rhetorical question, and none of the others bothered to answer. Squid shoved aside his bag with one foot, and folded himself down the wall to the floor. Becker remained standing, his position upright and unmoving. In fact, standing by the grand entrance as he was, he rather resembled a door pillar in Ryan's opinion. Stephen was leaning against one of the glass windows, one leg crooked up for balance, something which was not endearing him to the receptionist who was glaring and clearly worrying that dirty footprints were going to be left on the glass. Ryan wasn't bothered by the idea of boot prints, but was less at ease with the fact that that particular position was causing Stephen's jeans to pull tight along the length of his thigh. The outline was perfect, and the emphasised shape of muscular thigh and the curve of his buttocks was not much helping Ryan's increasing bad mood.

He had never been a fan of the 'look but don't touch' school of practice.

Finally, twenty minutes later, during which time the four of them had become increasingly irritable, the entire team was assembled in reception and ready to go. The plan for the day, or so the Professor informed them, was to drive out to see the farmer who had found the snake skin, and then drive to see the skin itself which was being held in cold storage in the nearest Government facility.

Ryan was tempted to ask exactly what the point of Becker, Squid and himself was on this particular task. Because they were only there to bail out the scientists if things went arse over teacups, and he was having trouble seeing exactly where the potential for disaster was in an Australian farmer and a dead roll of skin.

Unfortunately, just as he was about to get Becker to voice this particular query (because he would do so far more tactfully than Ryan), a highly-pitched squeal broke the reasonable peace.

'Steeppphheennnn!'

The entire team turned towards the door. A tall blonde was rushing towards them, dragging her friend by the hand. Oh God, it was Malibu Barbie. Ryan resisted the urge to pound his head against the wall.

'Steeepphhheeennnn!'

The squeal was longer this time, and the entire team turned away from the door and feasted curious eyes on the unfortunate Stephen. Stephen's eyes sought Ryan's and they exchanged a look of pure horror.

'Oh God,' Stephen muttered, sounding distinctly nervous.

'Stephen!!!!' Malibu Barbie had come to a halt about three inches from his nose. Stephen visibly recoiled. Abby's shoulders were shaking as she tried and failed to hold back her laughter.

'Stephen? Aren't you going to introduce us to your…friend?'

Stephen swallowed.

'Um…yes…this is…' he paused, eyes flicking to Ryan's in another plea for help. Luckily he was saved as Barbie barrelled forward and seized Abby's hand, beaming.

'Natalie! Lovely to meet you! Stephen didn't mention he had so many friends staying here!'

At this sentence she turned a predatory beam on Squid and Becker, who both took a step back, their faces donning the same wary expression as Stephen's. Abby looked amused, Connor and the Professor just bemused. All in all, the situation was quite wonderfully awkward.

There were a few seconds quiet, and just as the silence was approaching oppressive, Natalie's friend re-announced her presence with a small cough.

'Oh yes! Everyone, this is Sharon!' Natalie seized her friend by the hand, dragging her forward, and Ryan spared a second to wonder if she ever uttered a sentence that didn't end in an exclamation mark.

'Sharon' smiled slightly awkwardly. Natalie beamed.

'Sharon, this is everybody!'

Sharon's smile became distinctly weaker.

'This is Stephen! Remember the guy I told you about meeting last night? And these are all Stephen's friends!'

A feeling of pure relief stole over Ryan as he failed to warrant an invitation. Obviously his little performance last night hadn't been fabulously memorable. Glancing at Stephen, he saw relief in his eyes as well, and they exchanged a brief grin.

'Oh!' Natalie turned to Ryan with a luminous smile. 'I nearly didn't recognise you in uniform!'

There was second's pause, which felt to Ryan much much longer, and during which he had a strong sense of impending doom, before Natalie announced,

'And this is Ryan! Stephen's partner!'

Even Connor appeared lost for words.