A/N: Hello all and welcome to chapter 24. Don't have too long of a note for you to sit through so let's just get to it.

Paradox Effect

Summary: Dying sucked. Dying and being killed by the same teammate again? That sucked even more. Dying and being thrown back into Blood Gulch as a girl? That REALLY sucked. Now, Leona Church will have to put up with Tucker's perverted looks, Caboose's stupidity, and worst of all, Tex's laughter…

*Chapter 24*

Leona shivered in her armor, poking her head around the corner of the wall to see if there were any pissed off soldiers waiting to ambush them. With how terrible her luck had been so far today, she would've expected to run into twenty of them with assault rifles pointed at her head.

But instead there was no one. Nothing at all, save for complete silence. Even the damn alarms had stopped.

Normally, she would be happy to have some goddamn peace and quiet after a shitty day. But right now, it was a little worrying. Here they were strolling out of an occupied military base and the only thing she could hear was the howling of the wind. Fucking hell she remembered why Sidewinder sucked so damn much.

"Hey, technically I was the one in Sidewinder, not you," Alpha reminded.

'Maybe. But it is still funny that Tex beat someone to death with their own skull. It doesn't seem physically possible,' she sent back, chuckling a little. 'Poor Jimmy.'

"Yeah, poor guy. Never got to marry his girlfriend."

'Neither did I, now that I think about it.'

"MY girlfriend. Bitch," Alpha muttered with a growl.

'Mine now, asshole. Dibs.' Leona smirked when she heard the AI groan in annoyance. 'Oh yeah, by the way, no takebacks either.'

"Fuck you." Alpha groaned.

'That's Tex's job.' Leona was having way too much fun jabbing at the little prick of an AI. He was an asshole after all. So was pretty much everyone in her shitty circle of friends. The only decent one out of the bunch was York. At least he didn't stare at her ass every five seconds. Or make snide remarks about her aim. In her defense, someone kept fucking with the sights on her rifle. It wasn't her fault.

"Hey Leona, out of curiosity, have you actually ever hit anything with the sniper rifle or no?" York asked.

Never mind, she took it back.

She was surrounded by assholes. Still, they were her assholes. Which sounded rather dirty, now that she thought about it. 'So glad Tucker's not here right now. Jackass.'

"Yes, for your information," she shot back. "Someone keeps fucking with my goddamn sights every time I'm not looking. I'm blaming either Tucker or the teamkilling fucktard on my team."

"Not my fault! Tucker did it!" Caboose was rather quick to deny his involvement. "…I just want my orange juice."

"Oh shut up Caboose." Leona rolled her eyes. "Are we going to sit around shooting the shit all day or are we actually going to leave? I've had enough of this place to last me a lifetime."

"What, tired of the cold already, Pretty Princess?" Sarge asked with a chuckle. "Or is it your little Tooth Fairy?"

"I thought Donut was your friend."

"He means Church…"

"Thank you Simmons." York let out a defeated sigh. "Seriously, how the fuck do you ever get anything done if all you do is argue?"

"We don't?" Leona tried. "It's part of our charm. Learn the system."

"…I'm really not paid enough for this shit." York rubbed his helmet with a groan. "No Delta, we're not doing that celebration Wash suggested every time we completed a mission. Where the hell would we even get that much custard? …oh shut up."

"Delta being an asshole?" Leona asked. One thing she shared in common with the Freelancer. Having another voice in her head was annoying as hell sometimes. Especially when it was essentially the male equivalent of herself. Good God Alpha's voice was grating as all hell. No wonder Tex dumped him.

"Hey, I heard that you bitch."

Oh yeah, that too. Him being able to read her mind was not fun.

"Yes. Someone won't cut it out with the snide remarks." The tan Freelancer shook his head and moved on ahead, reloading his shotgun. "I'm really regretting volunteering for certain parts of Project Freelancer…"

"Tell me about it." Leona let out a defeated groan and spotted her preferred weapon lying on the snow outside. "Oh hey, dibs."

She ran over to pick it up when she heard Alpha scream in her head. "Get down!"

Leona dove as three sniper shots flew over her head and she grabbed her rifle, hiding behind the nearest rock. "Sniper! Top of the ridge!"

"Simmons, Grif! Lay down some suppressing fire!" York ordered, swapping his shotgun for his BR55 battle rifle. "Leona, try and find an angle! We need to know who we're dealing with. Sarge, keep Caboose from getting shot!"

"A little busy here!" Leona flinched away from another sniper shot. "Son of a bitch! York, I'm pinned!"

"Working on it," the Freelancer growled, firing a few bursts from his rifle to draw the sniper's attention. "Delta, who are we dealing with? Got any ID?"

"Enemy target is confirmed to be Agent Wyoming," Delta reported. "I suggest immediate evasive action."

"Wyoming!? Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." Leona hissed in annoyance and poked her head out to shoot at the bastard. "Why does my luck suck so goddamn much?"

"In all fairness, he's after me not you," York muttered with a grunt. "I may have pissed off the Director by not killing Tex and returning the Omega AI."

"Omega? Dude we had Doc kill that thing like three fuckin' weeks ago." Leona ducked again, flipping Wyoming off. "MISSED ME, BITCH!"

Wyoming jumped down from his cover, chuckling. His rifle was in his hands and he strode confidently towards her and York. "Hello there."

"…dude, are you seriously using some sort of cheesy-ass Star Wars joke to introduce yourself?" Leona rolled her eyes. "Come on, man. You need better material."

"Your tags will make an excellent addition to my collection, York," Wyoming continued with a laugh.

"Dear god." Leona groaned and looked at York in exasperation. "You seriously had to work with this jackass?"

"Please, this is nothing," York returned. "At least he hasn't started his stupid knock-knock jokes."

"Ah, who's there?" Wyoming fired a shot at York, who easily evaded it.

"It's York." The tan Freelancer scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it into his visor. "Leona, now!"

"York, huh?" Wyoming wiped the snow from his visor and was suddenly face to face with a very short tempered woman with her fist cocked back. Leona punched him as hard as she could, knocking him out and sending him crashing into the snow. He groaned weakly in pain and didn't stir, the blue haired woman glaring at him.

"It's 'York' catch, asshole." She growled and turned to see York clapping.

"Talk about a knock-knock. Nice punch," he complimented.

"Thanks." Leona's hand hurt like hell after that and she grimaced. "Simmons, Sarge! Get us the hell out of here so we can go back to pretending to kill each other. I've had enough of this place."

"I think I can get us something. Are you ladies afraid of flying?" Sarge gestured to the Pelican dropship in the distance.

…

"Shotgun," York called.

"FUCK!" Grif groaned.

"Shotgun's lap."

"Goddammit Leona, stop talking with Donut."

A/N: And back to Blood Gulch. The best of the series, Season 4-5. Oh the fun to be had there…

A Lovestruck A2#5371