[Thank you for still reading and all the love Baird and Sam have been giving. I hammered out the last chapter faster than I should have since I knew I'd be busy this week but it was worth it. I present Chapter 3 that got lots of love, rewrites and proof reads. I don't have a beta/proof reader so comments and constructive criticism ARE welcome, I haven't written much of fan fiction in 10 years so I am rusty.

A special thanks to JadziaCee for not being afraid to go there, Black Flower for the support and her works as well and that of other readers. None the less, here's what you've been waiting for, enjoy!]

-CNV Sovereign: Apprx. 2 Weeks Before Destruction-

"Hey, those are mine!" Baird announced loudly.

He was always loud though and the other refugees and former soldiers had gotten used to it so his shouting didn't cause much of a stir around the mess hall. If possible all outside Delta Company generally tried to avoid him, so only those chosen few within the squad even pantomimed raising their gazes as if interested. Stone-fast he stared on across at Sam, nearly boring holes through the woman who reacted as if this was an every day occurrence because in fact it was. Her fork wad mid level to her mouth and Samantha chose to set it down rather than finish her bite and brushed a few bits of her hair back from her face purposelessly. Afterwards she gave him her best innocent gaze, fingertips touched together under her chin to add to it. .

"Don't give me that look. Those are my goggles Sam, hand them over."

Instinctively she tried to look up at the items in question even though they were perched on top of her head. It was lunch time and they'd all just piled in to shove as much bland food down their throats to edge off starvation before going back to the grind stone of scrabbling just to get by. For whatever reason, the entire squad had been rather quiet up until this point to. This was dumb. She had innocently forgotten the welder/mechanic goggles she'd been using earlier before leaving for their break. Besides they were shop's goggles anyway.

"You're being a brat. They're not your goggles. I was using them on the hull in the shop where they've been every day for the past week because I leave them there every night." Countered Sam.

His nostrils flared. "Yeah, because I left them there before that. They're my favorite pair, I wrote my name on the inside of the headband. They're the only pair that's worth a damn."

"I know, that's why I'm using them." Her tone was fighting to remain flat as she addressed his points and complaints. "See, rather than having my retinas being burned away because of faulty equipment, I figured you wouldn't mind us sharing."

"You figured wrong. They're mine. Give them back before you ruin them." This had gone beyond an uncivil discussion, now it was a war for a war's sake. "You're probably stretching the band out with your fat head right now."

Sam's jaw dropped and she slapped a hand against the table top. It was a rough morning; there had been no running water when they woke, fixed that, crops are struggling, tried to fix that, and their second Silverback's tracking system was misfiring and now she had to deal with Baird, it was too much.

"You are SUCH a child!" She shouted, mistakenly gathering the attention of more than Delta Squad. After all, Sam wasn't always yelling so this might have been a scene worth interest others could only surmise. Even Dom who had become the most distant from them was given cause to look up.

"Really? Looks like you're the one throwing a tantrum," mocked Damon in a hushed voice, leaning forward a bit over the table. He wasn't even sure why he'd started the argument in the first place. Because he could probably? Boredom? Sam had just been in the wrong place and wrong time when the mood struck him he reasoned, but boy did she look nail bitingly excitable when she was mad. It didn't occur to him just yet how these sort of incidents had been becoming more frequent between Byrne and he.

Not figuring the pretty private school boy to be much of one for mind games, Samantha had grown increasingly irritated at having been made to look like a bit of a sod now too. Bottom lip disappearing under her teeth as her fists balled on the table, she came aware she was only feeding into his game by doing this but the ball was still in her corner.

"You're right Baird, I'm the one acting childish. And like you, I don't like sharing." She pulled one leg up and back over the bench seat, then her other. All that anger had suddenly left her, like it just dripped free off her form and she was lighter, happier. Without further addressing anyone she simply strode out of the mess hall and started towards the deck.

"That's not good," Anya smirked without looking up. "You know she's up to something if she's smiling that much."

"She's smiling?" Jace asked, a pocket of food still in one cheek.

Baird was not unaware of this and started after her almost immediately but not as gracefully. Catching his second foot on the bench he almost tripped righted himself, and took off after the female COG. Up until that time she had been striding casually, but when the doors of the outer maintenance hallway to the deck burst open behind her Samantha immediately started into a sprint. There was no doubt who it was chasing her.

"What are you doing Sam!" Baird yelled after her.

"I told you, I don't like sharing! If I can't have these neither can you." The smile could be heard in her voice. Things definitely were bad. She picked up her pace even more now, knowing that while she could run faster Baird could go longer. There had to be a way to even the playing field. Think clever girl, think! Ask and receive. To their left was an access stairwell, the door readily propped open making a quick turn easy for the lighter Gear. Sam used these stairs almost every night and usually two at a time as she did now.

"Don't you dare, you bitch!" He wasn't shocked to see her take the stairs instead of heading straight to the lower level deck, he was however mildly impressed at how quickly she darted up them. Otherwise Damon was cursing her name and trying to catch up, his lungs starting to burn.

There were only several flights thank God, and she probably set a personal record scaling them. It was a warm day, the exit door at the top was propped open as well and Sam was home free now. She stopped running so damn fast, mostly from the sudden fatigue in her thighs just as she reached the railing. The smell of the salt air whipped up over the edge and cooled her heated flesh, but reeked of old imulsion and chemical contaminants.

"DON'T!" Damon was in the door way now, his cheeks red as he puffed for air. Sam made sure he got within a good several yards of her before doing or saying anything rash. "Sam I am serious, I like that pair."

"I know," she sighed, still winded herself and sympathetic to his cause. "I do too, but like you said they're ruined since I stretched the band out with my fat head. Huh, … funny … that is your name written on there."

And just like that, the item that had been hanging on her index and middle fingers by the head strap was released overboard and splashed insignificantly below. Yes, she had cut off her nose to spite her face but the sheer hate in Baird's eyes was definitely worth it. Maybe now he would stop trying to fuck with her so much, she thought leaning back in to the updraft a bit, with her forearms supporting her.

"Real mature Samantha. Just don't let me ever catch you using my tool belt because if your fat ass stretches that out I'm tossing you out with it."

Ever ready with a witty retort, Sam looked back over her bare shoulder ready to duel but found herself unable to when she caught Baird staring at said ass in question. Of course his gaze darted away but god damn did she look good with the wind blowing in her hair and all that shit he thought. It was odd and a little exciting to know that he sometimes looked at her like that and Samantha realized she was blushing, thankful no one else would though. After her failed attempts at showing any interest in Dom she couldn't help but think it had to do with some fault of her own. Maybe she was too rough around the edges or too much like one of the guys to still be attractive. Now that witty retort had crawled back over her numb tongue, to a swollen throat and she had to avert her gaze too. Damn.

Baird rubbed the back of his neck, astounded by her or not right now he was still sore about his goggles however and planned to avenge them. Without saying anything further he started to beat a quick retreat not sure just what had happened then and there and not wanting it to go on any longer either. Just in case Sam thought she had won this round however he kicked the rock someone had been using as a door stop out of the way as he reached the stairwell. There was no handle on the outside of the door to get back in.

"How's that for childish? Good luck getting down Sam!" He yelled before it finally slammed shut.

-Avengad - After the Siege of Anvil Gate-

Good morning Samantha Byrne, this is your wake up call to the fact you are no longer young enough to drink like that. Please make sure the contents of your stomach have been completely evacuated before continuing with your hangover, their contents may have shifted during travel. Her own voice taunted inside the confines of the aching skull, attached to knotted shoulders above a tight lower back and numb legs. For a moment it seemed as if she finished dry heaving in the sink finally for the morning. How she had returned to the barracks with the rest of the team was a mystery for another date, Sam was just glad she'd returned wearing pants. She stood to face herself in the mirror and found a second set of eyes looking back besides her own bloodshot ones. Santiago was hiding the faintest of smiles, amused at her suffering, this was her nightmare. Turning on the faucet Sam splashed her face, washed the bile and vomit down the rusty sink basin and took several drinks from her cupped hands swearing iron water never tasted so good. It seemed as though she had found an immediate cure to the worst of her ailments. She leaned down, finding it easier to just drink from the faucet like a degenerate.

"Careful," Dom advised, for some reason not feeling it inappropriate to stand around and watch one of her lower moments. "You're just going to make yourself sick again."

"I don't need instructions on how to be hung over, Santiago," she bit back in between gulps of water and breath, feeling like she could drink for days. The water was cold, her mouth sour and revolting. Sam didn't stand back up until she was sure her stomach full. Full and quivering. "Oh God.."

Both arms were wrapped around the ceramic sides of the sink's girth when she bent back over holding her steady once more with her forehead pressed to the spigot as she threw the water right back up. This had to stop, they had to go, today was going to be long. Dominic's hand squeezed her shoulder. This wasn't the sort of comfort she wanted when she drank too much or was sick or hurt. Friendship was nice but there was a certain personal companionship you needed of someone if they were going to hold your hair back while you hurled up all of last nights mistakes in between sobs so Samantha felt. She had wanted Dom to be that companion too for some time, but it like other memories were times past and opportunities lost. Having him here now seemed to grate already exposed nerves but she was sure that was the 'shine still talking. Either way when Sam looked back over her shoulder he'd gone and she was left with no comfort or companionship to resent at all.

-Elsewhere-

"Damon!"

The door slammed shut, his eyes slammed open and he nearly hit the fucking roof. He was still stuck halfway in the sensation and sounds of his dream and being ripped from them against his will. The warmth and weight in his arms of another form which had seemed so real in his dream was just another figment of his restless and growing imagination. At least these were the good dreams, it was the bad ones he'd had for almost a year after him and Tai had been captured that had robbed him of sleep and almost all sanity. Did he ever sleep anymore without dreams? With the dirty fingertips of his gloves he wiped the sleep from the corner of her eyes and uncrossed his legs. It was Fenix staring back at him, figured. Cock block. He'd drifted off in a seat in the Raven where he may or may not have been purposefully avoiding the others so he could tinker on this or that inside the bird and keep his head clear. It hadn't worked and he'd been caught it seemed.

"Where's Anya and Carmine?" The meat-tank of a man asked Baird in that unmistakable rattling voice of his..

"Dunno. You think I'm hiding them in here though?" The mechanic mocked him, noticing Marcus eyeing the interior of the Raven for something as he took off some of his bandoliers and let his lancer rifle drop across the bench seating

"It's where you were hiding, wasn't it?" Marcus was not in the mood for his mechanics usual pissing and moaning that lead up to every conversation they'd ever had. His father weighed heavy on his mind, they were wasting time every minute they weren't on the move and getting pushed further down the current they were trying to swim upstream. He wanted to go, now and the only person he could find was fucking Baird. "Go round up the others, we need to get to that island which means we need fuel which means we need to get to Mercy."

The complete indignity at being accused of 'hiding' here in the Raven had Baird seeing red and pondering punching a superior officer however when he heard their first destination in mind that was put aside. He couldn't see any good coming of this and looked to Fenix, head cocked. "Are you sure that's such a good idea? I mean you know with Dom and all I just-"

"I didn't ask you for your opinion or questions. Just do it Corporal." The insinuation he hadn't already thought of such a terrible thing was enough to get under the man's normally thick skin.

Baird threw his hands up in exhaustion, doing anything else would be akin to just further pounding his head against this brick wall. Whatever, he was glad he was wasn't going with them anyway, he would consider it his reward for breaking the encryption discs, defeating the leviathan and just basically being an indispensable bad ass motherfucker. Okay, so maybe he wasn't as popular as Cole, as agreeable as Carmine or didn't have Anya's rack but where was his fanfare or even so much as a thank you? Sometimes he was positive Delta didn't appreciate him and Marcus had officially put him in a sour mood as the Sergeant was prone to do. He almost didn't even remember why he was walking away from Anvil Gate anymore before he was given a great visual reminder. The two women strode side by side, Lt. Stroud laughing about something and adjusting the strap of her duffle bag while Pvt. Byrne had her own half-cocked smile and a pair of construction sunglasses the other woman had given her as treatment for her light sensitivity on this particular morning It was turning into a beautiful day in spite of everything and while maybe not all the citizens of Anvegad had their spirits lifted The Gears were starting to perk up. The sun was almost at high noon and the air warm meaning it was going to get hot in a few hours, very hot. Baird raised a hand to them both, to catch their attention.

"Marcus wants-"

"We know! Thanks Baird!" Anya shouted back, never slowing a step.

Sam only looked long enough to notice him and made no effort to acknowledge his presence thereafter. Really, even after he'd helped her home the night before? Was everyone just going to shit on him today? He stopped walking and almost turned around over the matter and before an all encompassing hand on his shoulder changed everything. Of course it was Cole and the man could see something had been troubling his pal just now, it was all over his face.

"You poutin' over something Damon?" Cole asked, a brow raised.

"What? No. Wait…" For an unexplainable reason he gave himself away, looking back one last time at Sam and Anya and hoping they were out of hearing range.

Turning back he saw the look of satisfaction that had washed over Cole's face, stretching a smile ear to ear while he started crossing his hands over his chest as well. "Ahhh, the oldest story, the lament of a heart in love. Lady troubles, the Cole Train should have known."

"A heart in love? Your fuckin' whacked in the head, too many concussions in your thrash ball career buddy. And I'll have you know that those two do not count as ladies."

"You doth protest too much!" His voice boomed with laughter.

"Shut up Cole," he could only reply meagerly, desperate to change the subject. "Anyway, Marcus needs you and uh-" Baird started flipping through his cargo pockets, "I wanted to give this back to you before you guys head out. I forgot about it after we left Hanouver."

Gifts were not Baird's style so it caught Cole off guard and his mind churned trying to imagine whatever it was but he couldn't think of anything. Looking at the old high school picture he felt a cold pang in his gut and clenched his jaw just slightly. Funny neither man could come to look one another in the eye for a few moments as the photo was exchanged. Finally the awkward silence was broken with a chuckle and the Cole punched his friend appreciatively in the shoulder, hard enough to make Baird wince in fact. He didn't complain, just gave the man their usual hand shake and fist bump.

"For what it's worth I'm glad I didn't leave you in that toilet," Cole mused.

"Yeah yeah. Just watch your ass out there Augustus."

"I will man." He saw Baird's line of sight drifting back to the women who stood by their vehicle once again. The white boy always had the subtly of a bull in a china cabinet, so Nana would have said. "Anyone else you want me to keep an eye on too?"

Baird refused to dignify the question with a response. Either way, the Raven Fleet and fuel trucks were firing up and they needed to head out towards Mercy to gather fuel. Cole wasn't heading to Mercy with them, but Hoffman had a fleet of Raven's following the fuel trucks for several miles towards a hidden armory outpost and wanted Old Number 83 to accompany them. The two just nodded to one another in spite of the noise, Cole taking off towards the jets there after. The girls were still standing there. Just what could they be talking about? He was feeling especially paranoid since Sam hadn't spoke to him all morning and now Cole had seen through all his bullshit in a matter of minutes. Whatever, he had other matters to attend to and turned around to head back into the recesses of Anvil Gate. He wasn't the only one who had come to see someone off, Bernadette had stood outside as well already but had said her words to Hoffman sometime ago. No, she was watching something more interesting unfolding in front of her and didn't even need sound to understand. Bernie wore smile and shined it on Baird as he came to face her. He knew she had seen everything. Nosey old bitch.