Chapter 3: Insatiable, Pt. 1

Pit III, Undisclosed Location in Utah, Personnel Quarters: 1:35 p.m.

It was a battle scene of epic proportions. Socks were strewn all over the floor, partners missing in action, while two piles of blue jeans and khaki pants fought for supremacy over the bed. A white cotton t-shirt flew at half mast from the room fan while another covered half of the lampshade on the night stand. In the middle of the mêlée stood Lady Jaye, shoulders slumped and lips pursed in thought. In either hand were what appeared to be identical brown belts. Only closer inspection would reveal that one belt was a slightly lighter shade than the other. Which one to take? Holding both up toward the light, she couldn't decide and tossed both across the room to join other castoffs from her afternoon foray into packing.

Unnoticed, Cover Girl stood in the doorway watching the unfolding scene, trying hard to not laugh. She couldn't help but think it was always the same when Lady Jaye packed. Rather than employ Cover Girl's orderly system to packing, a system she developed and perfected after spending years on the road as a model able to answer any call at a moment's notice, Lady Jaye insisted on engaging in a last minute torched earth policy, leaving nothing but disorder in her wake and annihilating her room in a frenetic race to complete the task at the last possible moment before barely missing the plane.

"I told you, buy double of everything. That way you always have a bag packed and ready to go." Cover Girl entered the room, stepping over a pair of discarded combat boots.

Lady Jaye brushed aside the advice, "But then I always end up using the extras because I know they're there. Besides, I can't predict in February what I may want to wear in September."

"You can and you should." Pushing aside Mt. Blue Jeans, Cover Girl perched on the end of Lady Jaye's bed, shaking her head with mock disdain, "It isn't a choice over what you may want to wear, you tell yourself what you are going to wear. This," she swept her hand over the sea of pants, "should never be."

Lady Jaye stuck her tongue out.

"Really mature, how can I argue with that?" Cover Girl settled back into the khaki pile, "So, any more information?"

Lady Jaye closed the door and kicked away some clothes to clear space on the floor. Plopping herself down, she wrapped her arms around her knees, contemplating how to best respond. She figured it was a loaded question. The only thing on which there could be more information was the identity of the partner for her next assignment. Approximately two weeks ago Duke tasked Lady Jaye with representing the Joes at some FBI training program on surveillance techniques. He had to send someone; she happened to walk past his office at the exact moment he realized the response form was due. Without thought, he scribbled down her name and she instantly became the team's surveillance emissary. Although she pointed out at every meeting since then that it would probably make more sense to send one of the team members who might actually stand a chance of utilizing the equipment in the field, Duke was not swayed. To change the person now would require completing a mountain full of paperwork. If anyone hated paperwork, it was Duke. Therefore, he was sticking by his decision and Lady Jaye would head down to Quantico come hell or high water. Up until a few hours before she had to be at the airport, Jaye had held out hope that high water of some sort would interfere. Alas, it looked like her prayers were not being answered and out to Virginia she'd fly.

Accepting her inability to sway Duke to reason, she figured she could muster up the interest to survive with lots of coffee and the hope of maybe picking up a new skill. Duke couldn't make it that easy and added a wrinkle to the situation. Duke failed to read through the informational materials and missed the fact that the DOD was requiring each military unit to send two representatives to complete the training program. Once word got around, every team member had taken great care to avoid Duke the past few days. Cover Girl had hid in a cramped Mauler for three hours while Duke camped out in the mechanic's office waiting for anyone to show up. After giving up and leaving the garage in a huff, Cover Girl cautiously peeked out her head only to notice Clutch dropping down to the floor from an overhead beam. "I have too much to do without cooling my heels behind a desk listening to some FBI agent wax poetic about a little electronic do-hickey," the man quipped. Cover Girl pretty much felt the same way. Whoever was chosen was going to be about as happy to attend as Jaye.

"No, still no word yet. I don't think Duke has spotted an actual human being all week." She had it on good information that Mainframe and Breaker created cardboard cut-outs of themselves to throw Duke off their trail.

"I might know something," Cover Girl winked.

"Oh come on Courtney, you can't walk in and say that without spilling. What have you heard?"

"It was only second hand, you understand."

"Go on." Lady Jaye was starting to get impatient.

"Somebody just got back from Texas and failed to get the memo to avoid Duke and marched right into the lion's den."

Lady Jaye's hope deflated. There was only one person on the team that had just spent the last few days on the Texas border tracing a Cobra lead. Unless, "Are you sure?"

"Sorry hun, looks like you can't avoid him forever." The "him" in question was Flint. Ever since Jaye and Flint had returned from their mission in Kansas City, Jaye had done everything in her power to avoid the warrant officer. At first Cover Girl thought the situation was kind of funny. She was amazed at the reasons and excuses Lady Jaye concocted to avoid any prolonged exposure to Flint. Well-versed herself in the art of the elusive avoid, Cover Girl had learned the skill during her pictorial heyday. The creepy photographer who could make her career as well as destroy it? No problem. After listening to the older models, Cover Girl soon learned how to duck and weave without the photographer ever suspecting that she was steering clear of his company. There were two major rules to dodging another's company. First, never be seen alone with the person. Being alone gave the false impression of sincere interest. And second, always have a plausible excuse. A flimsy reason was indefensible and forgettable, the surest way to trip up in the end. From Cover Girls' perspective, Lady Jaye had both bases covered. From early morning meetings to late PT sessions, Lady Jaye was always on the go and unavailable. She even threw in an undercover mission for good measure. Although, Cover Girl found out that the only thing that particular mission involved was a heavy quilt, a flashlight, and some German novel Lady Jaye had been itching to read. But the time had come when Cover Girl found she felt sorry for the hapless warrant officer. Surely whatever his transgression had been, he'd more than paid the price. It was time for Lady Jaye to step up to the plate and confront her problem.

Lady Jaye stretched her legs out in front of her, fidgeting like a rambunctious toddler caught with the tell-tale cookie crumbs on her shirt, "Courtney, it won't be forever, just a little more time." She held up her hand to stop the next question, "No, I didn't talk to him yet."

"Why won't you just talk to the man? Poor boy's wandering around the base in shell shock. Jaye, what happened?"

"I told you, I messed up, big time. I just," she closed her eyes, shaking her head once, before continuing, "I just can't talk to him right now. It'll die down."

"But it's not." Cover Girl was having difficulty hiding her frustration. "You know me, I've done my fair share of avoiding. But this, this makes no sense." She paused, there was one thing that would make sense, "Unless that happened."

Lady Jaye's head snapped toward Cover Girl, "Courtney, I told you it wasn't like that."

Cover Girl held her hands up in response, "Hey, I'm not judging you. It's not like I haven't entertained thoughts about a few on the team. Good for you is all I'm saying."

"Ahhhh!" Lady Jaye slammed her right fist down into the title floor and instantly regretted the impulse, "Owwww, man that hurt." She jumped up, shaking her hand while mumbling assorted curse words under her breath.

Cover Girl maintained her cool, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands. She suspected Lady Jaye was finally going to tell her the truth.

Still shaking her throbbing hand, Lady Jaye glared at Cover Girl, knowing full well that she had been played, "Fine. I kissed him. In a drunken moment when I thought I was alone, he came to my room. He tried to help me out and I threw myself at him. But that's it. Nothing else."

"That's it?" Cover Girl couldn't hide her disappointment. Here she thought she was going to get a juicy story and instead it was what she should have expected, Flint going to Lady Jaye's room. How utterly predictable, "You're beating yourself up over that?"

"Well, why wouldn't I?"

"Jaye, think about it, he came to your room. If anyone started something, my money's on him making the first move."

"I don't think so. It isn't that simple. He wanted to meet up for dinner but I turned him down. He was probably just following up on that. There's no way he was looking for that. Trust me, he doesn't see me that way."

"Damn you guys are thick." Cover Girl gave a shake of her head.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Cover Girl pushed herself off of the bed, "Just talk to him. I have a feeling things aren't as dire as you think." Walking toward the threshold, she turned, "Promise me, don't drag this out. No good will ever come from that. Trust your gut."

With those parting words, Cover Girl disappeared into the hallway leaving Lady Jaye more confused than ever before. What did Courtney know that she didn't? Cover Girl certainly didn't shy away from expressing her opinions, even though I do, she added to the dialogue in her head.

What Cover Girl didn't know, and couldn't know, is that it was more than just avoiding Flint because of the kiss. No, she could be adult enough to manage that situation. It was the first time she spoke with Flint after he returned from visiting his family in Kansas. He had sought her out, finally finding her in the intelligence room poring over the latest intel reports. It was the look her gave her when their eyes first met. It was the undeniable look of pity. It couldn't be anything else. Every time he looked at her she couldn't help but see the pity in his eyes. She would not be pitied.

And so she avoided him. She decided to immerse herself in her work, with the exception of the one time Cover Girl barged into her room and caught her cuddled up in her bed with hot chocolate and a steamy book. She would be the first to admit that it was a bit of a stretch to consider that an undercover mission, despite clearly being under the covers. But all the other reasons, the morning meetings, the training sessions, those had been legitimate. She knew the only way to get him out of her head was to fill it up with everything else. Because every time she thought of him, she cringed at being the object of his pity. Every time she thought of him, she replayed the situation over and over in her mind, wondering what she could have done differently. She should never have opened the door. She should have known better than to even get drunk in her room. She allowed herself to be compromised and thus interfered with their working relationship. That was the one thing that mattered, their partnership. They were practically the best on the team and she jeopardized that over her feelings. Of course he would respond when she threw herself at him like that. He was only human. She'd probably do the same thing. But it was unprofessional. She felt like a heel. Maybe she deserved his pity. Until she could get a grip on her emotions, she knew she would be no match to face him. Cover Girl was right, she couldn't avoid him forever; she didn't want to avoid him forever. But, deep down, she knew she had to get over him, yes, over him, before she stood a chance of speaking to him one on one, person to person, friend to friend. If Courtney was right about the upcoming mission, however, it was time to speed up that process.

After about a whirlwind hour of packing and unpacking, Lady Jaye was ready. Zipping up her duffle bag, she took one last glance around the room to make sure she had everything. Going though the mental check list, all her gear was present and accounted for. Except for that pair of tailored jeans, and maybe that light gray cotton sweater, they were still folded on her bed. It was a training mission; there was no need to pack anything but the essentials. She hadn't spent the past hour ruminating over whether to bring her nice jeans for nothing. No, just the basics would do. But there they were, the jeans and the sweater that Flint once commented brought out her eyes. He probably meant it as something nice to say considering the mud and twigs crowning her hair only moments before. But his words had left an indelible mark on her mind. That sweater found its way into her bag most missions, just in case. Not this mission though. She couldn't allow it. Or could she? With an inward sigh, she unzipped her bag and stuffed them in.