GI Joe/Marvel universe crossover.

I don't own Marvel or Hasbro.

Silence

Chapter 8: Nighttime Chats

Time: 23:12 Zulu, Monday; 19:12 local time, Monday
Location: GI Joe Pit

Beach Head brooded to himself in the corner of the rec room, his eyes fixated on the pencil in Duke's hand. His CO was currently working on the next duty roster, at least if Sergeant Major Wayne Sneeden would let him.

Conrad Hauser swore as he 'dropped' his mechanical pencil yet again.

It was a petty game that Wayne usually reserved for tormenting Flint or Shipwreck with, but for once Duke was the target of his ire. He watched as his commanding officer picked up the writing utensil with a frustrated sigh, having already 'dropped' it several times already.

Flint had claimed that Duke didn't seem to be very anti-mutant, but even a little bit was too much in Wayne's opinion. Mutant registration was a disaster waiting to happen.

As if the man's support of mutant registration wasn't enough, news of the fiasco at the G8 Summit and Cobra Commander's public announcement had served to further deepen his already foul mood. Flint knowing about his mutation and the fact that Hawk wanted him to telepathically scan Major Bludd the next day was a further annoyance. If Beach Head was in a particularly ornery mood at the moment, well, it was understandable.

The ranger had originally wandered up to the infirmary to annoy Lifeline and Snake Eyes, who was having his injuries treated, but the doctor had kicked Beach Head out after he'd accidentally cracked the man's glasses telekinetically. Wayne had been in the middle of a tirade about Cobra Commander taking advantage of Dr. MacTaggert's death to manipulate mutants. Both he and Lifeline were upset about that very topic, and the fact that one of the leading pro-mutant activists had been assassinated. Even though Lifeline had clearly agreed with him, having his glasses suddenly break on his face had ticked off the normally passive man.

Pacifist or not, the ranger didn't feel any particular need to cross a man who could lift five tons as if it were nothing.

Wayne didn't really see what the problem was. It wasn't as if the man actually needed his glasses anyway. Besides, it had become apparent that Dr. Edwin Steen was having trouble controlling his powers as well. Even if the ranger hadn't been empathic, the trashcan half full of broken coffee cups was testament to the pacifist's equal irritation.

At least Beach Head had gotten the satisfaction of watching a spooked Snake Eyes. Wayne wasn't sure if it was from the realization that Lifeline actually could stop him from escaping at any time, or from watching the doctor unconsciously crush about four coffee cups in a row.

About ten minutes had passed, which Wayne deemed to be a reasonable amount of time. He mentally flicked the pencil out of Duke's hands again.

Another round of cursing followed.

Wayne's eyes flickered over to the other side of the rec room. Most of the other Joes in the room seemed to sense his mood and were making an obvious attempt to stay out of his way, which suited him just fine. Beach Head really wasn't in the mood for socialization at the moment anyway. The only reason he was even in the rec room was because he was bored, angry, and if he allowed himself to admit it, a little depressed. Sitting alone in his room hadn't been too appealing.

That, plus secretly tormenting Duke had been an incentive as well.

Shipwreck and Cover Girl sat together on one of the couches, talking and laughing quietly. The two Joes had begun quietly dating a few months ago. Beach Head tore his eyes away and pushed away a small stab of jealousy. He wouldn't look, looking only made it worse.

As stubborn as he was, and as much as he verbally complained about people ignoring frat regulations, Beach Head couldn't deny that his heart skipped a few beats when Corporal Courtney Kreiger was around. He'd felt mutual interest from her in the past and she'd even tried flirting with him, but Wayne had been reluctant to pursue it.

He'd tried to rationalize it to himself. He was a sergeant major; it wouldn't do for him to have a relationship with a fellow Joe, even though Hawk turned a blind eye to other certain Joes fraternizing. Wayne had even tried to tell himself that he wasn't good enough for her, though clearly he was far superior to Shipwreck. What the hell did she see in that good for nothing sailor anyway? The man was a blatant womanizer who enjoyed ignoring rules and regulations. He was just plain trouble, in Beach Head's opinion.

To be truthful however, being in a close relationship frightened him. It wasn't just because he was a bit awkward around women when it came to romance, or even fears about how she'd react to his mutation. His own parents had had an unhappy marriage before they'd finally divorced. Wayne was reluctant to get himself into a similar situation.

Covergirl laughed again. Her and Shipwreck's emotions were quickly heading towards bedroom emotions, which made Beach Head nauseous. Unable to take it anymore, Wayne abandoned his 'Torment Duke with a Pencil' game and walked out of the rec room.

He felt the other Joes in the said rec room give a collective sigh of relief after he left. Normally that wouldn't bother him, but at the moment it made his mood even worse.

Wayne sighed and wondered if Lifeline was done being annoyed at him. He slowly felt around for the doctor's mind. His telepathic range was limited, but his empathic skills easily allowed him to detect and feel the emotional states of everyone in the Pit. It often gave him a headache and Wayne had only marginally learned to block out the sea of emotions floating around the military base.

There he was. The doctor was in his quarters, brooding about something. It didn't take much guesswork to realize that it was still over Cobra Commander's announcement. Figuring that he didn't have anything else to do at the moment, Wayne sighed and headed in the other man's direction.

Time: 23:35 Zulu, Monday; 19:35 local time, Monday
Location: GI Joe Pit

Lifeline sighed as he stared glumly at the television. Most of the news stations were preoccupied with discussing the assassination of Moira MacTaggert and Cobra Commander's 'peace offering' to mutants. A good number of political pundits were claiming that the geneticist's assassination and the terrorist bombing in Tokyo were actually the result of mutants, who had done it to blame non-mutants. Others were discussing the reactions of the mutant community to the attacks and Cobra's announcement.

The possibility of mutants joining a terrorist organization terrified a good many people and was further fueling anti-mutant sentiments. The cynical side of Edwin mused that mutants might actually get a better deal from Cobra than from that of the pro-registration, pro-interment camp crowd. Of course, Lifeline knew that Cobra only wanted to use mutants for their power. Cobra Commander had no actual interest in mutant rights.

Even so, the doctor knew how attractive Cobra's offer of acceptance was going to be to a disenfranchised group of people. The government had realized this as well and had made the possibility of fighting mutants a top concern for GI Joe. General Hawk had been rather solemn when he'd quietly informed his two mutant soldiers of that.

Rumors about Duke's alleged anti-mutant prejudice was already a hot topic among the Joes. The new threat of mutants joining Cobra was now adding fuel to the fire. Lifeline's sensitive ears had overheard a couple of the quartermasters and several Joes discussing the 'mutant threat.'

He flipped through a few more channels before finally settling on 'I Love Lucy.'

Lifeline yet again thanked God that Beach Head had accidentally revealed his mutation to Snake Eyes. Despite his own father's failure at being a good Christian preacher, he still believed in Divine Providence. It had been difficult enough to keep silent about his own mutation. If that accident hadn't happened and the ranger hadn't revealed himself to General Hawk, Lifeline could easily imagine how isolated the two of them would be feeling at the moment.

As difficult as the situation was now, knowing that he wasn't alone made things much more endurable.

Still, Beach Head didn't have to go and break his damn glasses. Sure, he didn't need them, but it gave people less reason to suspect that his eyesight was far above average. Lifeline was still a bit irked at the ranger, even though he'd since forgiven him. Besides, it wasn't as if he hadn't broken anything either. Controlling his enormous physical strength took a lot of concentration, which he usually lost when he was angry or upset. Because of that, he always made it a priority to keep his emotions in check.

He had failed this time however and accidentally destroying several coffee cups had further upset him. Not even being able to enjoy a simple cup of coffee didn't exactly boost morale.

The injured Snake Eyes had seemed to sense his frustration. After Beach Head had stormed out of the infirmary, the silent ninja had slipped out as well. About fifteen minutes had passed when he'd returned with a stainless steel coffee mug. Lifeline had decided it was best not to tell him that a metal cup wasn't much better than a ceramic one, as both felt as fragile as paper to him.

Still, the doctor had been greatly moved by the gesture and had thanked him. After the ninja had left, he had taken great care not to leave the slightest dent while he sipped on a fresh cup of coffee.

A curt rap on the door drew him out of his thoughts.

"It's me," Beach Head said through the door.

"The door's unlocked," the doctor answered. The ranger opened the door and peeked his uncovered head cautiously into the room.

"You going to get pissy at me again or can I come in?" he asked suspiciously. Edwin sincerely hoped that the other man wasn't spoiling for a fight, because he wasn't in the mood for one.

"I said the door was open," he sighed, unable to hide a touch of annoyance. "I wouldn't have said that if I wanted you to go away. Besides," he added after a moment, "I doubt a locked door would keep you away anyway."

The other man only grunted in reply, but stepped in and quietly shut the door. Beach Head paused a moment to look at the television.

"I Love Lucy?" he asked.

"Would you prefer watching the news?" Lifeline asked dryly. "They've got wonderful things to say about mutants." The ranger gave a snort of disgust.

"I Love Lucy's fine, even though she was a Communist."

"Socialist," Edwin corrected. "Her grandfather was anyway. I don't think she actually was."

"Whatever. They're the same thing, right?"

Edwin rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to correct the other man, but Beach Head grinned at him.

"Ah know what the difference is," the ranger drawled purposefully, "Ah ain't a total hick." Edwin shook his head. Beach Head seemed to have a talent for needling people. Fortunately, he knew full well that the other man only did it out of a twisted sense of humor and not from any desire to inflict torment.

Well, not much anyway. The ranger did enjoy watching people squirm, especially if it was Flint.

The two men quietly watched Lucille Ball yell at Ricky Ricardo. Beach Head tried to pretend to be uninterested at first, but Edwin heard him chuckle a few times through the episode. The doctor had begun to relax as well and allowed his mind to drift away from the current worries plaguing him.

Lifeline's ears registered the soft sound of footsteps walking towards his door.

"Someone's here," he said.

"Spirit," Beach Head replied. The ranger was currently snooping through the small refrigerator in his room.

"There's no beer in there," Lifeline told him. The other man swore.

"Why not? It's not like it'll affect you anyway," he complained. The ranger paused and looked up at him suddenly. "It doesn't, does it?"

Spirit knocked on the door as Lifeline made his way over to it.

"No, it doesn't," the doctor replied.

"Then…"

"Why would I drink it anyway, if it doesn't affect me?" Lifeline sighed. "That's the whole point of alcohol, isn't it?" The sergeant major pondered that as he continued to rifle through the tiny fridge.

"Huh, never thought about that," the ranger replied. "Guess you've got a point." Lifeline rolled his eyes as he opened the door. Charlie Iron-Knife was waiting patiently just outside of it.

"Good evening, may I come in?" Spirit asked quietly. Edwin hid his curiosity and gestured for him to come in. The other Joe gave a surprised look when he saw the other occupant in the room. Beach Head had resigned himself to a Sprite and returned to his former seat.

"I didn't realize that both of you would be here," the GI Joe tracker remarked. "This works out better."

"What?" Edwin blurted out. Beach Head froze, his can of soda hovering just over his lips.

"How the dang HELL did you find out!?" the ranger bellowed.

Spirit winced slightly at Edwin's side.

"Well, I had a vision…"

"Dammit! Not that hocus pocus crap!!" Beach Head continued to yell. "Gawd dammit, Ah'm movin' to…"

Lifeline never found out where Beach Head was 'moving to', as he quickly covered the irate man's mouth with one of his hands.

"Please have a seat," the doctor said calmly. Wayne Sneeden swore angrily behind the hand pressed to his lips, which Edwin ignored. "There's soda in the fridge if you want any," he added.

"Uh…no thank you," Spirit answered, warily eyeing the irate Beach Head.

Sergeant Major Wayne Sneeden glared murderously, but calmed down after a few minutes. However, he couldn't resist telekinetically dumping a bowl of popcorn over Lifeline's head for daring to cover his mouth. He then threw a pillow at the doctor after Edwin accused the ranger of wasting perfectly good popcorn.

Lifeline in turn threatened him with eviction if he didn't settle down and behave. Beach Head muttered darkly, but backed down at that.

An amused Spirit waited another minute before speaking, as it wouldn't do to be prematurely killed by an irate ranger.

"May I continue?" he asked politely. Beach Head snorted at him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Charlie Iron-Knife answered calmly.

He received another glare in response.

Time: 24:08 Zulu, Monday; 20:08 local time, Monday
Location: GI Joe Pit

Flint sighed as he stood in front of Duke's door. Their argument had left a bad taste in his mouth and the rumors had only made it worse. The two men had been friends for years and the warrant officer felt that he should at least give Duke the benefit of the doubt. The knowledge that two mutants were under their command only gave him further incentive to feel the other man out.

He knocked and a moment later, the blonde opened it. The two men stared silently at each other until Dashiell finally gave him a sheepish smile.

"Sorry that I lost my temper before," he said quietly. "Can I come in?" His friend stepped aside and the warrant officer stepped in. Flint wondered what else he should say, as he'd never been good with apologies.

"I lost my temper too," Duke finally said, saving Flint the embarrassment. There was a long silence until Flint gave an awkward smile.

"I guess if we can get so riled up about it, is it any wonder that people are practically ready to tear each other's throats out over mutant issues?" he asked. His friend finally gave a small smile in agreement. Flint took that at his signal that all, or almost all, was forgiven. He flopped down in an armchair while Duke rummaged through his liquor cabinet. A few moments later, the blonde handed him a small glass of the sherry he loved so much.

"People think I'm a bigot," Duke complained. "I don't hate mutants…I just think that people should register if they have superpowers."

"What about right to privacy?" Flint asked. "Do you think that the government should monitor people twenty-four seven for having powers they didn't even ask for? How's that any different from illegally wiretapping people's phones?"

Conrad Hauser sighed.

"Dash, I don't want to get into another argument right now," the other man replied miserably. "Did you know that Ace and Clutch came into my office today? They said they agreed with me that mutants couldn't be trusted. I tried to explain to them that that's not what I meant, but…" Duke trailed off and sighed again.

"Why won't people believe me when I say that I don't hate mutants?" he asked. "Spirit's been one of the only ones willing to believe me."

Flint didn't respond as he sipped his sherry. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how. He was tempted to tell the other man about Beach Head and Lifeline, but Flint knew how delicate the issue was. It wasn't his place to tell Duke about their mutations, especially without their or Hawk's permission.

"Cobra Commander's announcement has everyone on edge," Flint finally said. "Mutants face enough discrimination, especially the ones who look different. I'm sure that many of them feel that joining Magneto, or even Cobra, is the only way out."

"It's not," Duke replied. Flint sighed.

"Have you even seen the mutant ghettos?" Dashiell finally asked. "My cousin lived in one for a while before we persuaded her to come back and live with the family."

There was a pause.

"Your cousin's a mutant?" Conrad asked.

"One of my nieces too."

Duke thought about that for a while. Now he knew why Flint was so easily riled up when it came to mutant registration.

"I've seen them," Duke finally replied quietly. "The ghettos, I mean. I was ordered to infiltrate one. Our Intel said that a mutant terrorist was hiding in one in East St. Louis."

"St. Louis, huh?" Flint asked. That was interesting, as St. Louis was Duke's hometown. "What happened?"

"She got away," Duke continued. "Her name's Mystique, if she was even there at all."

"I've heard of her," Flint said. "Not much, but I've heard the name."

"She's one of the reasons I support registration," Duke answered. "You know that I worked black ops after GI Joe was disbanded. Part of my job was trying to track down mutant terrorists. One of them, a guy named Sabretooth, killed most of the patients in a hospital over in Kiev. He was also responsible for mauling a unit of Marines in Guatemala."

"Jesus," Flint swore.

"That's not all he's done. You should see the file we have on him. I don't think this guy's reacting to anti-mutant pressure," the blonde added. "He just likes to kill." Flint thought about that for a while.

"Look, I can understand maybe registering people with a criminal record," the warrant officer finally said. "That doesn't mean we should punish all mutants."

"That's the thing though," Duke replied. "How can you make a judgment on who will or won't break the law? Shouldn't we know who is a mutant?" Flint still shook his head in disagreement.

"Sorry, I just can't agree with you," he answered. "If we have mutant registration, that's a slippery road I'd rather not be on." Flint made sure that he kept his temper in check. He didn't need to lose it again.

"You remember the Mutant Control Agency?" Dashiell added. "There were rumors that someone was using Sentinels to target registered mutants back when they first tried registration." Duke's face tightened noticeably.

"It's not true, is it?" Flint asked warily. He took the other man's silence as a yes.

"And you still support it?" he asked in disbelief. This time it was Duke who shook his head.

"Only if there are safe guards in place. There would have to be provisions preventing anyone but the government having access to the registration files, as well as to prevent mutants from being targeted," he answered. His answer struck Flint as being somewhat naïve and optimistic, coming from Duke. The man had spent more time operating in government circles than Flint. Dashiell personally doubted that some corrupt and bigoted politicians wouldn't take advantage of mutant files.

"Mutants are still being targeted now," Flint pointed out. "Sentinels are still being used to track down mutants, although I'm not sure how they're doing it."

The warrant officer suddenly felt a chill go down his spine. He worried enough about his family getting targeted by the machines. It suddenly occurred to him how much at risk Lifeline and Beach Head were as well. The ranger was a pain in the ass, but damn it, neither he nor the doctor deserved being targeted like that. It was a rather poor reward for the sacrifices they'd made for their country.

"What?" Duke asked, catching his change in mood.

"I just worry about my niece and cousin, that's all," Flint answered. "I've seen one of those things from a distance. They scare the shit out of me."

"Honestly?" Duke asked. "Me too." The two men sat in silence for a short time after that.

"I guess this is just going to be one of those times that we agree to disagree," Flint finally said. "I know you don't hate mutants Conrad, but still…I just can't accept registration. It's too dangerous. Regardless of what safeguards might be put into it, it's not going to prevent someone from abusing the registration act."

Duke was quiet for a long time. Flint wondered if the other man shared his doubts, but was unwilling to give in to them. At the very least, Conrad was willing to discuss it, which meant that Flint might be able to change his mind eventually.

"Why can't life ever be simple," Duke finally sighed.

"Simple?" Flint grinned. "As if you'd be satisfied with a nice house with a picket fence…"

"Kids too…" Duke continued, also smiling. "Although I'd need a wife first."

"And a dog. You need a dog," Flint added with a smirk. "You should name him after Shipwreck."

"What? And torment the poor dog?" Duke asked. "If anything, I should name him Beach Head. At least he'll keep burglars away. If I named him Shipwreck, he'll just lie around all day and chase after the pretty poodle up the street."

"If you name him Beach Head, you do realize that he's going to need a bath every day," Flint pointed out. "He might have a barking problem too."

"True. I guess I'll just name him Snake Eyes. Quiet and still keep the bad people away."

"He'll sneak out of the fence," Flint grinned.

"Dammit, I guess I'll just have to name him Jim."

"Why Jim?"

"Captain Kirk's name," Conrad grinned. "Though maybe not. If I named him that, he'll sneak off to chase after the poodle up the street. I'd better name him Spock instead."

"God, you're such a geek sometimes," the warrant officer groaned. "Why don't you give him a cool name, like Othello or Boatswain?"

"Because I'm not an English Lit geek. What self respecting person names their dog 'Boatswain', besides crazy people like you?"

"Lord Byron," Flint answered. "That was his dog's name."

"That's not a good example of a non-crazy person."

The two men chuckled and continued to banter back and forth. Flint smiled to himself. He'd managed to find the woman of his dreams, and although they lacked a suburban house, a dog, and kids, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Actually, he wouldn't mind having children some day. A dog would be nice too.

"It's a nice dream, isn't it?" Duke finally asked wistfully.

"That's why we fight," Flint answered. "So other people can actually have that dream."

Time: 24:14 Zulu, Monday; 20:14 local time, Monday
Location: GI Joe Pit

"Let me get this straight," Edwin Steen said. "You saw a vision of me fighting the Hulk?" Fight and Edward Steen didn't really fit well together, in his opinion.

"Yes," Spirit replied. "Though I don't know if it'll actually happen. It's always difficult to interpret visions."

"But you found out about us," Beach Head pointed out. The ranger was rather suspicious of anything that involved 'visions', as it usually invoked the image of crazy hippies on drugs, but even he had to admit that there apparently was something to the whole shamanic stuff that Spirit did.

"True," Charlie Iron-Knife said. "But I'm always hesitant to assign meaning to much of what I see."

"Why?" Lifeline asked. The tracker hesitated a moment.

"Honestly, I wasn't even sure if what I saw was right," Spirit admitted. "I mean, I studied psychology in college. The things that I see could easily…"

"Just be a figment of your imagination?" Beach Head smirked. The other man awkwardly nodded his head, as if he'd been unwilling to admit that.

"I worry about that sometimes, yes," Spirit said. "It's nice to find proof sometimes that it's real. According to recent research, shamanic visionary experiences are a natural brain phenomenon resulting from release of the normal habitual suppression of the visual cortex," he explained. "It's often thought that shamanic visions are the manifestations of preconscious aspects of self, reflective of one's cultural beliefs."

Beach Head and Lifeline stared blankly at him.

"It means that objects in visions are just representing your subconscious," Charlie sighed. "What you see depends on the cultural symbols you've been encultured to."

"Well why the hell didn't you say that!?" Beach Head barked. "Do I look like Psyche-Out? Warn me before you start dropping psycho-babble, your shamanic hocus pocus is bad enough!"

"Duly noted," Spirit smiled. "I shall abstain from large words."

"You're asking for it, Iron-Knife."

Lifeline coughed slightly to get their attention. Beach Head was riled up enough about things as it was, he didn't need to take it out on their fellow Joe. Spirit was probably the nicest and most level headed person in the Pit, but he also had an incredibly dry and witty sense of humor, which wasn't always fully appreciated.

"What about Beach Head?" the doctor asked. "You said something about him getting a secondary mutation."

Beach Head stopped glaring and gave Spirit a curious look instead.

"It's possible," Charlie answered. "My spirit guide didn't say anything about your powers, except that they would change."

"What about…do I look different?" the ranger asked, somewhat hesitantly.

"Should you be telling us this, seeing as it concerns the future?" Lifeline asked. Spirit shrugged.

"Take it as possible future," he answered. "I've never really dealt with a vision like this before. I don't know what to make of it."

"What did I look like?" Beach Head repeated grumpily. Charlie paused a moment and tried to remember.

"Your hair was silver and your skin was light purple," he answered. "Your eyes kept changing color, so don't know…"

"Purple!?" the ranger swore, horrified. "Ahm not going to be the damn purple ranger!"

"And why should you be worried about the color of your skin?" Spirit asked quietly, meeting his eyes. Beach Head froze for a long moment before he looked away.

"Sorry," the ranger muttered. "You're right. Ah shouldn't care what people think." The man seemed a bit upset, though Spirit guess that the ranger was angrier with himself than him.

"I also saw a vision of you in a swamp," Spirit said, switching topics. "You and another man were looking for the Dreadnoks. My spirit guide implied that the two of you are going to become friends."

Beach Head raised an eyebrow.

"Friend, huh?" the ranger asked. "What's this pogue look like?"

Time: 24:20 Zulu, Monday; 20:20 local time, Monday
Location: The Xavier Institute for Higher Learning

Remy LeBeau had a tingling feeling on the back of his neck and he looked suspiciously around the kitchen. Rogue was lounging in a nearby seat and reading a fashion magazine while Warren Worthington III poured himself a glass of chardonnay.

"Somethin' wrong, sugah?" Rogue asked.

"Someone's talkin' 'bout Remy," Gambit scowled. "Or watchin', dough no one else is here." The beautiful Southern belle gave him a funny look.

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"My neck got all tingly," he replied. "N Tante Mattie always said dat when dat happens, someone's talkin' bout you." His female companion tried and failed to hide a smile.

"That's just superstition," she answered. The Cajun shook his head.

"It's true," he insisted. "It's not superstition."

"Who's Tante Mattie?" Archangel asked curiously, sipping his glass of wine.

"Crazy voodoo lady who lives in a swamp," Rogue answered. After a moment, she added, "Ah think."

"She's not crazy," the former thief corrected. "Dough she is a voodoo lady n' she does live in a swamp."

"Voodoo?" Warren Worthington asked warily.

"Yep," Remy replied.

The blue mutant shook his head. If it involved magic, he didn't want to know anything else.

"Rogue's right," Archangel said instead. "You're just imagining it. The whole world doesn't revolve around you, you know."

"Yeah it does," the red eyed mutant grinned. "It's cause I'm so pretty n' all." The rich mutant glared at the Cajun.

"Tombée à plat," Remy muttered. Some people just couldn't take a joke.

"Anyway, people aren't just sitting around talking about you," Archangel continued. "Even if they are, I highly doubt that a 'tingly feeling' is a sign that they are."

Remy snorted obstinately. The other mutant sighed again.

"Superstitious Cajun."

Gambit retorted with something unkind in French.

Author's notes:

There perhaps wasn't much story wise this chapter, but I wanted to show Beach and Lifeline reacting to Cobra Commander's speech, as well as Flint and Duke's discussion. I'm also not sure yet if I'll have a Beach Head/Cover Girl pairing in this story, though I'm leaning in that direction. I like the pairing even if it isn't 'canon', so I at least wanted to show that Beach has feelings for her.

I referenced Spirit's 'psycho-babble' from the article, "Shamanism as Neurotheology and Evolutionary Psychology," byMichael Winkelman. You can find it online if interested, as this website won't let me post weblinks.

"Tombée à plat," is French for 'to fall flat', in reference to a joke that isn't found to be funny.