Ronin Toad: Redux Chapter 36: Drinks, Dreams, and Dialogues, a X-Men: Evolution + NCIS Crossover fanfic

Drinks, Dreams, and Dialogues

Disclaimer: Same as before.

Margaritaville
Shipwreck, Quick Kick, Conrad, and Kate
06 March 2002, 2118

"Capitaine Bernard Depuis, France. Sergent-Chef Hans Van Pelt, the Netherlands. Sergent Ian Laposte, United Kingdom. Sergent Henri Leboulletier, France. Caporal Putnam Livingston, British Virgin Islands. Legionnaire Renzo Rocha, Brazil. Legionnaire Radoslav Wiersbowski, Poland. Legionnaire Leon Peralta, Argentina. They were eight good men of Commando Depuis: Le Garde du Diable." Conrad declared, holding his glass of cognac aloft. "Honneur et Fidelite!"

"So what happened to one drink, Shipwreck?" Kate glared as Conrad named off his teammates before downing the last of his drink.

"There's no such thing as only one drink when it comes to Shipwreck," Quick Kick smirked as he drained his own beer, "He does tend to have that effect on people."

"You mean he makes them embrace their inner alcoholic," Kate groaned, as she reached over for the check only for Conrad to grab a hold of it.

"I apologize for the rudeness, mademoiselle," the ex-Legionnaire grinned toothily, "But I believe I said I was paying."

"First, Conrad, your wager was only for one drink," Kate began.

"As Quick Kick put it, there's no such thing as one drink when it comes to Shipwreck," Conrad replied.

Without letting go of the check, Kate locked eyes with Conrad, "Ask our server if she can split our check. You can get Shipwreck's bill and yours too."

"Sure," Conrad said, stepping off to do just that.

Kate noticed Conrad returning with one check, which he handed one to Quick Kick. Raising an eyebrow Kate asked, "Where's my check?"

"I got it taken care of," Conrad smirked.

"Sneaky," Kate replied, before smiling, "Thanks for my drink."

"You're welcome, mademoiselle," Conrad grinned, staggering slightly but still walking in more or less a straight line for the door with Shipwreck, Quick Kick and Kate in tow.

"How on Earth is Shipwreck walking in anything resembling a straight line?" Kate asked as Conrad held the door open with a slight flourish.

"Drinking is a competitive sport for Shipwreck and he's Olympic standard," Quick Kick smiled as he hiccuped and staggered too.

Kate managed to corral the three rather buzzed men towards the car before they all stepped inside it. As Kate started the engine and backed the car up she heard Conrad singing from the passenger seat.

"Ob's stürmt oder schneit, ob die Sonne uns lacht. Der Tag glühend heiß, oder eiskalt die Nacht. Verstaubt sind die Gesichter, doch froh ist unser Sinn, ja, unser Sinn. Es braust unser Panzer im Sturmwind dahin." Conrad cranked down the window, singing loudly.

"What's he singing?" Shipwreck asked, with a belch.

Kate waved her hand in front of her face. "It's a German song, Panzerlied. It's an old World War II era song that influenced a French Foreign Legion song, Kepi Blanc."

"Es braust unser Panzer im Sturmwind dahin." Conrad sang out in concert with Quick Kick.

"Thanks, Shipwreck," Kate mumbled, "Thanks to you I've got Conrad and Quick Kick singing a song right out Battle of the Bulge."

"What can I say," Shipwreck shrugged, "I've got a special talent for making good times."

"More like a talent for chaos and widespread destruction." Kate gripped the steering wheel and sighed.

"Hey! Margaritaville is still standing!" Shipwreck protested.

Kate rolled her eyes as she drove onto the base, first dropping Shipwreck off at his house. Then she dropped Quick Kick off at his apartment before driving back towards the Officer's Quarters. She and Conrad walked into the building and as the former legionnaire headed for the elevator she grabbed his arm.

"Let's take the elevator this time," Kate suggested.

Conrad nodded, "Very astute, mademoiselle. Especially with my having tried to match drinks with Shipwreck."

"An insane act if I ever saw one. Heck, even Quick Kick cut himself off before you two did," Kate replied as they stepped into the elevator.

As the door closed Kate turned around to see Conrad leaning against the wall softly singing, "Mit donnernden Motor, zu schnell wie der Blitz. Dem Feinde entgegen, im Panzer geschützt. Voraus den Kameraden, im Kampfe ganz allein, ja ganz allein. So stoßen wir tief in die feindlichen Reih'n!"

"What does that verse mean?" Kate asked.

"So stoßen wir tief in die feindlichen Reih'n!"

Drat, Conrad's bad ear must be acting up again. Kate thought as Conrad stopped singing and looked towards her.

"Did you say something?"

"Yeah, I was wondering what that verse meant," Kate asked as the elevator chimed as it reached their floor.

"A fairly rough translation: 'With thundering engines, as fast as lightning. Towards the enemy, sheltered in the tank. Ahead of our comrades, In the fight all alone, yes all alone. That's how we strike deep into enemy ranks!'."

"No wonder you tend to lead foot the accelerator whenever that verse comes up," Kate commented as they stepped out of the elevator.

As they walked towards the apartment Kate gently guided Conrad through the front door as the former legionnaire sang, "Und läßt uns im Stich einst das treulose Glück. Und kehren wir nicht mehr zur Heimat zurück. Trifft uns die Todeskugel, ruft uns das Schicksal ab, ja, Schicksal ab. Dann wird unser Panzer ein ehernes Grab."

"Come on," Kate coaxed, as she led Conrad towards his room with a light tug on the arm.

"Dann wird unser Panzer ein ehernes Grab."

Conrad tripped and Kate managed to break his fall. She felt the plaster of the wall at her back and Conrad's bodyweight at her front. Face to face for a heartbeat, neither of them spoke.

"At least we went to dinner this time," Kate said with an awkward smile.

"This is true, mademoiselle. However, I didn't mean anything…"

Kate cut him off, "I know. You stumbled. I caught you and we wound up with my back to the wall."

Conrad quickly disentangled himself from Kate only to back into the opposite wall. He half staggered, half walked towards his room before turning towards Kate.

"Bien soir, mademoiselle." Conrad smiled before closing the door.

Kate replied, "Good night, Conrad."

Sleep once again brought Conrad to Fiddler's Green. As he walked into the tavern he saw Putman and Rocha waving from a nearby table.

"Just in time," Rocha said, gesturing to a cold mug of ale with his own half full mug, "We just ordered one for you."

"Thank you," Conrad replied, taking the ale and drinking from it.

As he drank Conrad asked, "Do you think God will forgive us for what we did?"

"It's sort of a moot point, Hart," Putman said, "After all I don't believe He exists nor that He doesn't exist."

"They do teach His forgiveness is eternal," Rocha countered.

The sound of the piano clacking and clattering drew their attention. Conrad could see five Legionnaires in the uniform of the Indochina War of the 1950s. Two of them wore black sidecaps with the deathshead insignia embroidered on the front, headgear peculiar to the Waffen-SS. Van Pelt and Peralta were in company with them.

"Another bloody Wehrmacht song?" Putman grumbled.

"Bear in mind after World War II up to 35% of La Legion was German," Conrad replied, tilting his kepi at the requisite rakish angle.

Putman raised the brim of his kepi to wipe some sweat off his brow. "You've made that observation before."

"Est braust unser Panzer im Sturmwind dahin!" Conrad, Rocha, and several Legionnaires around the tavern shouted in echo, raising their drinks as they did so.

Ian sauntered over to them from the bar, a mug of ale in one hand and his kepi at a rakish angle. "Having another philosophical debate, are we?"

"While Van Pelt, Peralta, and their German friends belt out der Panzerlied," Putman sourly grumbled, "And Conrad and Rocha sing along."

"Need I remind you, Putman," Conrad interjected, "That der Panzerlied influenced Kepis Blanc."

"You've said that." Putman slugged back another mouthful of beer, "Still it's a song from the Third Reich."

"There's not one Nazi reference in this song," Conrad replied.

"Mit donnernden Motor, zu schnell wie der Blitz. Dem Feinde entgegen, im Panzer geschützt. Voraus den Kameraden, im Kampfe ganz allein, ja ganz allein. So stoßen wir tief in die feindlichen Reih'n!" The cluster of Legionnaires at the piano waved beer mugs as they sang.

"That's right," Ian replied, "That last line is about punching deep into enemy lines."

"And La Legion fights in front of France's Army!" Rocha raised his mug, "A moi Legion!"

"So stoßen wir tief in die feindlichen Reih'n!" The echo came back with more enthusiasm, as Conrad and Rocha joined it, glasses raised.

"Something on your mind?" Rocha raised his kepi slightly on his forehead to scratch just below his receding hairline.

"I've long wondered if God would ever forgive us for what we've done," Conrad mused.

"The blokes in the rape gang, the Phantoms, weren't exactly choir boys." Ian sipped his beer, "And besides I'm not one to believe in the old man upstairs. But, my friend, what did you think of the Phantoms?"

"Every last one of them deserved to be shot," Conrad replied coldly.

"Even the four we took prisoner?" Putman asked, eyes widening, aghast, "Did we really have to line them up by that drainage ditch and gun them down?"

"Remember when we first landed in the Central African Republic? How many of the European women had cut their hair short, and that of their daughters in the at times forlorn hope of being taken for men and not being raped?" Conrad's eyes narrowed as he spoke, "So yes, we did have to shoot the bastards that committed those acts. Furthermore, they deserved to be shot for their crimes."

"Still, those four surrendered!" Putman's eyes widened, "I still remember their faces when we lined them up on that drainage ditch…"

"Like they wouldn't have picked up weapons and fought us if we'd simply let them go?" Ian craned his neck towards Putman.

"What were we, the bloody SS?" Putnam raised his glass.

"Hardly," Conrad countered, "We were simply removing evil from the world. Nothing more and nothing less. The Phantoms brought our wrath on themselves."

"Wenn vor uns ein feindlicher Panzer erscheint. Wird Vollgas gegeben und ran an den Feind. Was gilt denn unser Leben für uns'res Reiches Heer? Ja, Reiches Heer. Für Deutschland zu sterben ist uns're höchste Ehr'." Van Pelt, Peralta, and their compatriots at the piano raised their glasses singing with gusto.

"There's one reference to the Third Reich," Putman raised an eyebrow, "Reiches Heer translates into Reich's Army."

"Point taken," Conrad replied.

"Für Deutschland zu sterben ist uns're höchste Ehr'." Several Legionnaires around the tavern echoed with as much gusto.

Putman rolled his eyes, "Someone should remind that lot that they died for France."

A Legionnaire from the Indochina era at the bar turned, a scowl on his scarred face, "Care to repeat that, mon ami?"

The clipped German accent of said Legionnaire told Conrad of the man's origin, even if he hadn't seen the enamel deathshead badge on his lapel and the black band of cloth on the cuff of one of his sleeves embroidered with the silver threaded word Totenkopf in Gothic script. Deathshead, or Totenkopf. This fellow served in the 3rd SS Panzer Division.

Putman stood up, "I do. You died for France, mon ami."

The man's stony glare increased and his fists clenched. Conrad and Rocha both stood from their seats as two more of the German's mates came from near the bar. One of them smashed a beer bottle against the edge of the bar.

"Oi! Shut it the lot of you before I box your ears!" Ian shouted, a calm, yet firm expression on his face.

The authority had its effect, and the German brawler snapped a sharp salute, "Jawohl Herr Feldewebel!"

The man executed a smart about turn before heading back to the bar to refill his ale, his two buddies in tow. Putman grumbled, "Arrogant bugger, even in apology."

"Not in the mood for a scrap tonight, lads. So let's not kick one off, shall we?" Ian replied.

"Mit Sperren und Tanks hält der Gegner uns auf. Wir lachen darüber und fahren nicht drauf. Und droh'n vor uns Geschütze versteckt im gelben Sand, Ja, gelben Sand. Wir suchen uns Wege, die keiner sonst fand." The piano continued it's clattering chiming in tune with the six men singing.

A chorus of other ex-Wehrmacht and Waffen-SS soldiers turned Legionnaires echoed the last line. "Wir suchen uns Wege, die keiner sonst fand."

One of them slurred the last line as he weaved among his fellow Legionnaires and barmaids with a half full glass of ale in one hand and a half full bottle of schnapps in the other. With a belch he slurred his way through the song.

He staggered past Putman, Ian, Rocha and Conrad's table bellowing and slurring the last line of the verse.

"What does that last line translate into again?" Rocha asked.

"We seek out a way no one else could find," Conrad replied as a loud crash sounded.

The four men turned in time to see the staggering drunk fall sideways onto a table where a half dozen other Legionnaires from the 1920s were playing cards. Raucous laughter from the card players and several of the staggering man's mates followed.

"Well he certainly found his way into a bad fall," Putman quipped before tipping the last of his mug down his throat.

"Hah!" Ian laughed, raising his own glass, "Cheers you lot!"

Conrad, Rocha and Putman toasted as Van Pelt and his compatriots sang in tune with the clanging clatter of the tavern's badly out of tune piano.

"Und läßt uns im Stich einst das treulose Glück. Und kehren wir nicht mehr zur Heimat zurück. Trifft uns die Todeskugel, ruft uns das Schicksal ab, ja, Schicksal ab. Dann wird unser Panzer ein ehernes Grab."

Conrad raised his mug and, in tune with other Legionnaires around the bar sang out the last line, "Dann wird unser Panzer ein ehernes Grab."

"Tempting fate with that last line, Hart." Putman quipped.

"Before a mission no less," Rocha added.

"Just like the line in Kepis Blanc, 'How many have fallen on a bright morning? Of our comrades who laughed at fate.'." Conrad raised his glass.

"I remember you, Peralta, and Rocha used to sing Der Panzerlied damn near all the time when driving," Ian groused, draining his mug of ale, "And back when we were training in France, Rocha would play it on his acoustic guitar."

"Bloody Hell, yes, those three would be sitting around the bivouac site belting it out," Putman replied.

"It's a catchy tune. Very jaunty." Rocha shrugged.

As Conrad felt his surroundings fade as wakefulness claimed him, he heard the opening strains of La Marseillaise...

"Allons enfants de la Patrie. Le jour de gloire t'arrive!" A group of Legionnaires sang.

The Pit, Ninja Dojo
Todd Tolansky and Althea Delgato
06 March 2002, 2217

Todd climbed down the rope and landed lightly on the ground just outside the Ninja Dojo. He saw the three small flashes of light from the woods nearby. He recognized Althea's signal and with a couple large hops he was there.

He took her in his arms before they exchanged a quick kiss. Althea took his hand and the two teenagers jogged deeper into the woods, heading for that glade that was their special place. They reached the glade, flopping down onto the grass.

As Todd looked up at the moon and the stars he wrapped his arm around Althea's waist, feeling her resting her head on his chest. The two young lovers lay silently together in the cool spring air.

"You seem worried," Althea began.

"There's a lot on my mind," Todd replied as he held her close.

Althea shifted her weight so she could look up at Todd, "Such as?"

"Agent Hart was telling Agent Todd how they hanged a Cobra prisoner in Africa." Todd shuddered slightly and Althea held him close. "We saw this ex-Cobra soldier at Denny's, Mercer, and Agent Hart told us about how he hanged Mercer's friend."

Althea wordlessly hugged Todd and he sniffled slightly as he held her close to him. "I'm gonna miss you when we go to the jungle."

"It's only for a week, you wuss," Althea teased.

"I'll still miss you." Todd hugged her close.

Althea raised her head to kiss Todd lightly on the mouth, "Aww...I'll miss you too."

He leaned in to kiss her deeper, feeling her fingers running through his hair. He shifted so he lay on his side, facing her, feeling her body pressing against him. Todd's heart thumped in his chest as they lay facing each other, the kiss deepening.

Then they parted for want of air, and just lay in the grass, holding one another. Todd leaned over, taking a deep sniff of Althea's scent as he held her close. They lay together staring up at the stars until Althea yawned, closing her eyes.

"Al, we gotta get back…" Todd whispered.

"Mmm….so comfortable," Althea said.

"I know," Todd sighed, contented, "I wish we could stay here forever."

"Me too." Althea opened her eyes and angled her face up to kiss Todd.

Todd angled his face down, returning the kiss. After they parted from that kiss for want of air they lay in the grass again holding each other until it was now time to return to their homes.

"Same time tomorrow night?" Althea asked.

Todd nodded and smiled, and with one last kiss the two of them parted ways.

Peets Coffee
Washington, D.C.
Rachel Phillips and William Baer
07 March 2002, 0930

William Baer waved at Rachel Phillips as soon as she walked into the coffee shop's entrance. The slim bodied brunette made her way to the corner table and picked up the cup of coffee that was sitting near the empty chair.

"Thanks for getting my order, and sorry I'm a little late." Rachel flicked a stray strand away from her forehead.

"No problem," Baer replied, "It's my day off anyway."

Apropos of Baer's simple jeans, collared shirt and blazer combo she smirked, "I guess even Secret Service Agents get days off."

"We do. But I thought I'd ask a few questions." Baer hefted the dossier in front of him.

"About Conrad?" Rachel's eyes fell on the dossier as she sat down. Baer nodded. "What do you want to know?"

"I'm sure you're aware that Kate and Conrad are going to go on a mission in Panama soon," Baer tapped the folder, "And I do have some reservations. In your professional opinion what's your view of the man?"

"First off, I don't think Conrad's any threat to Kate." Rachel sipped her coffee.

"That wasn't my main concern, but I do have some questions. I am curious about your opinion of the man."

"Well he's loyal to a fault. If he decides you're worth his loyalty he has no reservations about going that extra mile for you," Rachel replied, "And honestly from what I saw back at the Pit, it looks like those two have gotten to be friends. In short I think Kate is in good hands."

Baer held up the dossier, "I don't have any doubts about that on the jungle mission. On his background alone I'm confident that he'll keep Kate safe. And for her part, Kate will definitely watch his back."

"What else are you curious about?" Rachel's eyes narrowed.

"What do you know about his reason for joining the French Foreign Legion?"

"He got into a fight at San Diego State," Rachel replied.

"It's in the dossier, but do you know why he got in that fight?" Baer's eyes narrowed.

"He's never said." Rachel's own eyes narrowed, "Why is that important?"

"A hot headed agent could be a liability in the field." Baer replied.

"Conrad's a fairly private person, he's never told me what exactly led to his joining the Legion. But I trust him with my life and the lives of my team," Rachel tapped the dossier for emphasis, "To Hell with what's in the dossier."

"Don't you think that where he's been can influence who he is?" Baer asked.

"His past has a bearing on who he is. But it's not the sole influence." Rachel argued.

"Noted, Rachel. But you understand that I have my concerns." Baer held up the page from the dossier detailing the SDSU fight.

"That was almost ten years ago." Rachel set her cup down.

"Did he ever tell you the reasons behind the fight?" Baer set the page back into the dossier.

"No, and why is that important?" Rachel demanded.

"Kate says she trusts Conrad, but I have my reservations." Baer replied, "Namely with the fact that he struck an officer. That shows that he has no respect for authority."

"And I maintain that was almost ten years ago. Kate is in good, if sometimes eccentric, hands." Rachel reached for the dossier, "His military record in the Legion speaks for itself. Service in Cambodia, Sarajevo, Chad, and the Central African Republic. And he volunteered for service in the French military advisory teams…"

"That patrolled, lived, and fought alongside local militias in the Central African Republic, Chad, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo." Baer tapped the dossier with one hand, "I am aware of that."

"So what's your reservation?" Rachel challenged, stabbing a finger at Baer.

"Well, I've got some disturbing reports about Commando Depuis. It was said that the Skeleton Men murdered most of their prisoners," Baer countered, not backing down.

"I still say Kate's in good hands with Conrad watching her back," Rachel replied, "Thank you for your time."

"You're welcome," Baer said, calmly returning to his coffee and the dossier as Rachel walked out.

It's about a three-hour time difference between here and the West Coast. Kate should be up by now. I'll send her a quick e-mail on my concerns. Baer thought to himself.

The Pit, Officer's Quarters
Kate Todd and Conrad Hart
07 March 2002, 0733

"Morning, sleepyhead," Kate smiled from the coffee pot.

Conrad managed a slight grin, "Merde alors, I'm never attempting to match drinks with Shipwreck ever again."

"I could've told you that was a bad idea." Kate poured a mug of coffee and handed it to Conrad.

"You're too kind, mademoiselle," Conrad replied, sitting down at the dining table.

After pouring her own mug, Kate joined him at the table. "At least we don't have anything major scheduled today other than meeting up with Roadblock at 10 o'clock."

"I appreciate that for sure," Conrad replied, "I can at least contemplate how Shipwreck even has a liver."

"Or a brain." Kate smirked before taking a sip of her coffee.

"If nothing else, mademoiselle, Shipwreck is living proof that organisms can survive without brains."

Kate was still sipping her coffee when she laughed at the deadpan remark. She started coughing and choking before she felt Conrad's hand slapping her back to help her clear her airway. She let go of the coffee cup, spilling it over the front of her blouse.

After a cough Kate managed to say, "I'm fine, thank you."

"I apologize for making you laugh," Conrad replied.

"It's fine. But I do agree with you, that Shipwreck is living proof that a human being can survive without a brain." Kate said, managing a small smile.

"Shipwreck is a lot of things, but an intellectual powerhouse isn't one of them." Conrad sipped his own coffee before heading to the counter to fetch a towel to clean up the spilled coffee.

"I'll be right back." Kate gestured at her coffee stained blouse.

"Perhaps coffee stains might become a new trend in fashion?" Conrad called after her.

"I see being hungover doesn't stop your attempts at wit," Kate mused before heading to her bedroom to change out her blouse.

After selecting a new blouse she stepped out into the hallway. She could hear Conrad lightly whistling the tune Panzerlied. She poured herself another cup of coffee and took her seat.

"You visited Fiddler's Green last night?" Kate asked.

"I did, mademoiselle, and the song Panzerlied was sung," Conrad replied.

Kate couldn't help but smirk, "Well you were singing it under the influence last night."

"Can't deny that, mademoiselle." Conrad smirked back before rubbing his forehead. "Merde, perhaps it's best I grab some Tylenol."

"I can only imagine Shipwreck must be having an epic hangover." Kate mused.

"I'll bet you lunch that he's fresh as a daisy. It wouldn't surprise me if he has some mutant gene that preserves him from hangovers."

"And I'll bet you have some mutant gene that ensures wisecracks even when hungover?" Kate teased, lightly punching Conrad on the arm.

Kate,

For a few reasons I'll happily explain, I must advise you watch your back around Agent Hart in the jungle.

Agent Baer

Agent Baer,

I've spoken to Agent Hart about his past. And while I have some reservations about the darker sides of it, I trust him.

Kate

TBC