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diejager · 5 months

Note

Hallo! Truly loved the MonsterAU stories! Wonderful, amazing writing!

Would it be possible for you to write: what if human!reader was turned into a chimera?

Akin to this:

Feel free to ignore!

Chimæra

Pairing: Monster 141 x Chimera!reader

Cw: science experiment, human torture, human testing, gore?, blood, canon-typical violence, unethical human experiments, kidnapping, child abuse, malnutrition, child neglect, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.6k (A/N): credit to @bluegiragi’s monster 141 designs.

They were tipped off by an anonymous source that some shady and highly illegal things were being done in a small and remote town near the border of Belarus, their ongoings unknown to both the government and public of their country, but someone had given Laswell a file containing all the horrific tests conducted within the closed walls of the innocuous-looking compound —a laboratory dressed as a simple military base. The folder held snapshots of emails and files sent between scientists and researchers, small indications of what was being done to both humans and monsters, yet withholding important intel about certain things. It disclosed the location, the names and faces of every worker and leading figure in the compound, the number of security and their schedules, and what was done, but not what was truly happening, it left small clues, sublet words here and there with hidden meanings —never clear images, blurry ones as if the person was in a rush.

Despite not having clear indications of the illegal activities, Laswell had enough to have 141 sent to take it down, to bring the dehumanising lab to its ground and burn it down. She didn’t have trouble convincing them, it was telling enough to let them read the condensed files for them to read, to see themselves the monstrosity being done to children and monsters they took, kidnapped from around the world to be left at the deceitful hands of crazed scientists. There wasn’t much to be found outside it, the base wore the facade of a benevolent patron, bearing the crest of kindhearted investors wanting to rebuild rundown houses and reconstruct rough and broken roads and paved streets in the town they took to hide. It worked for the most part, they profited from this by acting without raising any suspicion from anyone, neither the authorities nor the people.

“Christ,” Gaz swore, looking down at the words in the file he received, the teased truth and the dreadful treatments through a thick layer of secrets and subtle wording, the only clear intel was from the straightforward emails sent to and from researchers and the heads of the facility, unabashed and shameless bragging of their success and the narrative to which these subjects could be used. “Why did it take so long?”

A recurrent theme of these was about a certain subject, it was about C34, spoken with such pride and joy about their creation, the work of the new world and the future made within these walls. Most emails were the exchanges between them about C34’s training, the ongoing treatments and every successful mission and exercises, they spoke of C34 as if they were a dog, a rabid mutt they captured and took on the task of domesticating it. It was demeaning, degrading and cruel, to look at another being as something lower, something needing domestication —it went against every rule and law put in place to protect humanity, the many conventions sworn to protect the goodwill and security of the innocents.

“We’ve had our suspicions before,” Laswell sighed, the images of the screen switching with the small click of her control, laser pointing at the images of various weapons cache and illegally procured weapons. “There was a slip up in the shipping, it was dropped here-” she motioned to a circled area in the map, a closeup of a secluded road near the town, “and we were able to retrace it to the facility. We needed more intel about the facility before acting and we needed to know what we're facing here, if we should send a team or send you.”

“What now?” Price tilted his head back, smoke leaving the sides of his frown, a deep and unpleasant one. He couldn’t even look at the intel given with a straight face, the shadowed truth of cruelty and dehumanising acts done by humans. “Figured you send us after seeing this, Laswell?”

Laswell nodded, jumping to another slide, showing blurred images of subject C34, a blurry figure, tall and imposing in every way possible. They stood high, stature seemingly one belonging to a monster or hybrid: on four legs and the wide, familiar shape of wings, everything about C34 cried monster. Perhaps one they captured as a child, taken from their mother and kept in this cell. There were many pictures of this one, blurry and disfigured, but others had smaller shapes, the size of children with various characteristics.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus!” Soap spat, disgust dripping from his tone in waves, unending as were the other’s curses, each holding their level of horror and repugnance. His face was wound tight, brows dipped lowly and lips pursed, he balled his fists, anger rising within him with every image he saw, the deplorable conditions and the care given to the monsters —what could they even expect from this shady company engineering monster and human DNA to fit their preferred narrative, for money, for reputation, for strength. “We ‘ave tae do somethin’ about this, Price!”

Soap - Johnny - had always been the more emotional one, letting his good heart lead his decisions when the situation seemed to fit it. His wolf made him more susceptible to emotional attachment, a pack mentality driven deeply into his mind and heart, he was viciously loyal and wore his heart on his sleeve, uncaring of how he’d be hurt by a betrayal, he simply saw the best in the world, something many couldn’t after a while, but Soap could, Johnny was a good man at heart. That’s why he reacted the most out of everyone, voicing his distaste and hate, his need for revenge and the sanctity of the lives being stolen in the facility.

Soap pushed Price to agree, seeing no reason not to lead the breach, to uncover everything done to innocent lives. His eyes connected to the man hidden in the darkness, his blue eyes gleaming with fierce justice, a contrast to the wraith who lay in silence, abhorrent and seething quietness. Ghost peered at him, head tilted up with white pupils darkened by black eyes, death layering off him with calmness. He gave Soap a curt nod, affirmation for him to continue to voice his mind, to help those in need.

“Seems like it’s been decided, Kate,” Price gave her a lopsided smirk, amber eyes narrowed with what could be read as anger, teeth sinking into the girth of his cigar, ash falling. “When are we going?”

Her lips parted in a proud grin, eyes gleaming with something dark and wrathful. She leaned on the table, head held high and shoulder broad while she flicked off the projector:

“Wheels up at 1500 tomorrow.”

You stared down the man before you, watching him tremble under your cold gaze, steps hesitant to approach you despite being seated, body prone on the hard floor you called a bed. He was new, possibly recently employed and his boss - or his direct manager - played a dirty game with him. It was some kind of rite of passage for every new employee courageous enough to accept their recruitment, all bright-eyed geniuses wanting to build their place on earth with forthgoing discovery, desperate and narcissistic; yet they were so easily tricked into you cage, locked in by cackling and grinning guards and coworkers.

He smelled young, fresh-faced and a bit nervous, most were when they first saw you. You remembered everyone who walked in, the smell of fear and anxiety, the disgusting scent oozing off their bodies, rotten and putrid like a rotting corpse. You would’ve gagged and choked if you weren’t used to it, having grown close to the smell of death, calling the reaper your friend. You weren’t bothered by him, only the cart he was wheeling over, a big and heavy cooler that smelled fresh. He was made to bring you food by his boss, a cruel joke played on every new scientist who was always so eager to meet you before cowering in terror once the lock clicked.

Standing before your third cage, he unlocked the small hatch and, with effort and a loud grunt, pushed the cooler into the hole, big enough for a big cooler but small enough to fit your arm through it. You waited until he stumbled away, distancing him from you before reaching for the container, it was light, weighing little in your palm. They fed you raw meat, sometimes buying the fresh catch of a Belarus hunter, usually an elk or a wild boar, but if they were lucky, a bison or a bear, other times they would have conserved meat shipped from outside the town, bigger cities or outside the border.

Today was an elk, the meat cold and free of rot, it smelled as good as a fresh kill did, bloody and heady. You ripped into it without care, tuning out the loud retch from the scientist as you gorged on your meal, claws tearing it in half and biting into the bloody meat. Blood rolled down your lip, painting your cheeks crimson and staining the cream-coloured rag they considered a shirt. It would be changed after your meal, as it always was. Despite the elk weighing around six hundred kilograms, you finished it quickly, with pointed teeth cutting and pulling flaps of meat and ligament, blood spraying and dirtying the metal ground near the hatch.

It was filling, albeit cold. You cleaned your hands of blood, licking it off like a grooming cat, tongue laving over the sharp edge of your claw and under your blunt fingernails. You peered at him from under your lashes, eyes gleaming in the darkness. You watched - pleased with yourself - him shudder, face growing green with unnerve at your show. You knew he was desperate to leave, to get a breath of fresh air outside of your cell, you understood his fear and wanted him to suffer for helping your owner, the man watching over your training, but you wanted him gone before he emptied his stomach on your floor. So you pushed the cooler out, clawed arm breaching past the hatch to leave it farther from your cage.

He left hastily, legs shaky and face pale.

“I want a bison next time,” you growled, words rolling off your tongue huskily from its rare use.

It looked as inconspicuous through the NVGs as it did in the pictures, a few grey buildings built lowly to hide an immense labyrinth dug into the ground, secret passages crossing unending halls with locked doors and tipped with surveillance cameras to watch over the whole facility. They studied the very walls that made this place a secret fortress, from the body to its heart, like mounting a brigade against a castle, Laswell’s team found the few hidden entrances that connected to the lesser-used passages, winding through many hallways and wide vents, big enough for humans but too tight for monsters the size of C34. Task Force 141 led the mission, infiltrating the base under the darkness of night where they could crawl and slink through shadows to catch what they hunted. They were joined by Marines, all experienced and skillful, wearing scars like a badge of honour. It would either be a quick in and out, or a long and strenuous infiltration.

Price took Gaz and led half of the Marines through the west, breaching the lab from above. They pushed in steadily, relaying information and physical cues to Watcher - Laswell - with a body cam recording everything they saw, the facade they wore above ground, hiding their dark enterprise. Ghost, as usual, has Soap watch his six, following closely behind him with puppy-like loyalty and the other half of the Marines. Team Two’s - Delta - mission started through the underground passage they sniffed out, a long and unwinding hall that went straight through the heart of the facility. Ghost’s team went dark, needing the cover of silence to stay hidden in a highly protected area of the base to run this clandestine mission. They spoke only when needing to, to make calls, to reaffirm intel or to let both Bravo and Watcher know a change, the tech team in the temporary safe house a few miles away from the compound watched through the cams, from the subtle change in the air to a jarring lead to what was happening.

While Price and Gaz worked on creating a distraction, taking a load off team Delta’s shoulders, they could work through the system faster and more efficiently with the fire taken off their backs and front. It was controlled chaos for both teams, creating a mass discordance within the enemy lines: panicked higher-ups at the sudden attack, while they had a small squad of personal soldiers, they were unprepared, taken by surprise by both teams attacking on two fronts; and confused mercenaries, their quiet and boring schedules made them lose the edge of suspicion, of wariness towards what awaited them and the sheltered job with little to no action apart from a few failed escape attempts by the subjects.

“Delta 0-1 moving in,” Ghost mumbled into the coms, his team following him closely, rifle held tightly with the muzzle pointed forward as they crossed the threshold of section C, heading towards the one holding the monster subjects.

They left behind them groups of bodies, slumped over the walls or limp on the ground, blood painting the sterilised and glossy walls, turning the once white hall into a grotesque place, dead bodies covering the length of the corridor like the ones they walked through before, leaving the stench of death that even the Marines could sniff out. It wasn’t clean - they weren’t aiming for it to be clean - but they wouldn’t need it to be clean when the Laswell would send a clean-up team to deal with this, Ghost would steal a bite before they arrived, quenching his hunger for revenge with them.

A few guards stayed to watch over the cells, doors unlocked by a keycard that most guards kept in their back pocket, Ghost would have to take one off a dead body. Under Ghost’s cover, Soap dashed to the other side of the hall, taking a few with him to corner the mercenaries, boxing them into a closed hallway until they all died. Despite a few of the Marines taking shots, bruising the skin under their plate, black and blue blossoming like a bloody flower under the thin layer of skin, they kept their heads high and minds clear, moving forward without a misstep or hesitation. Soap swiped a few cards from the bodies, throwing one to Ghost.

“Delta 0-1 to Watcher, can you hear me?”

“Solid copy, Ghost,” Laswell voice rang out clearly, reaching his ears in seconds.

“We found the cells,” his eyes roved over them, white paint over thick, cement walls to hold whatever they locked into the cells, perhaps the children the saw or the big one, C34.

“Do you have the keycards?”

“Affirm,” Ghost growled slowly, hearing Laswell's confirmation to continue. “Going in.”

He tapped the pad, a loud beep ringing in their ears as the lock’s mechanism creaked to life, unlatching from its metal hold to let them in. Both he and Soap walked in, leaving the others to watch their backs while they surveyed the first room. It was dimly lit as it was bare of any decorations apart from a visible toilet, a small sink and a few metal beds. It looked like any usual cells they came across, made barren and empty of anything useful to prevent the prisoners from escaping or causing a ruckus, but the people they kept in these cells were children. Soap swore under his breath at the sight of children huddled together, seemingly no older than 12, he lowered his rifle. They were backed into a corner, three older kids holding a younger one in their arms, protecting her from them, from whoever meant to harm these children.

They looked malnourished, left to slowly rot in these cement boxes until the scientist found something worthwhile in them, their cheeks sunken in, eyes droopy and swollen with bruises - they were beaten, it made something ugly rear its head inside Ghost dead heart - and lips dried. One was armless, having wings that they used to cover both of their cellmates, naked with only feathers covering their body, this one looked more like a harpy than it did human. The two others had arms, both having the lower half of a mammal, neither of them was sure which four-legged mammal it was, but one had a pair of wings, while the other’s back was bare of anything.

“We’ve found the children.”

You could hear the chaos from your cell, the blaring alarm and the smell of death. The building shook from its foundation, vibration emanating from both the ground floor and the basement, just farther from your hall, the closed and sectioned-off area. They separated you from the defective ones, all your young mistakes they made after achieving success —you. They tried to recreate it, but it never came out how they wanted it. Maybe it was a mistake on their part or maybe it was the lack of a certain gene in their DNA, a subtle difference that you and the rest had. You didn’t want to know and you didn’t want them to succeed a second time, it was painful, the shift, the tests and the change, the storm of pain, terror and confusion weren’t worth this power.

You could hear the booming sound of gunfire, a loud ricochet of the bullet when the nitrocellulose sparked and sent the bullet outwards, finding its destination in the warm flesh of human guards. You usually enjoyed this kind of chaos if you knew what started it, and laughed when something caused trouble for your captors, but you were cautious of this one. You neither knew who thought to disturb the peace nor did you know who was behind this, their scents strange and the sound of steps unknown. All you knew was that their steps were heavy, out of breath but pushing their way into - what you thought to be - section C. The place they kept the young and willful.

You might be blinded by your cell, but the guards outside your confinement knew how to talk, their chatter and barking orders loud enough for you to hear through the thick walls. From them, you knew they were strangers, unknown players on your board of pawns. You didn’t know their goal, whether they were here to let you out or keep you in a cage of their making, but you knew they were a gamble on your fate. As the noise got closer, you sat down, crossed your paws and waited, cautiously awaiting to see what your verdict would be.

Strangely enough, there was a different section, separated from the other one by many gates and stricter security, but they were able to break through it. Security was concentrated in one hall as if the monster they locked at the end of this hallway was of big importance. It had higher security, stronger and thicker. Ghost wondered if it was to keep the monster in or keep people out, either way, this meant that they found the thing they first came here for: the trained and dangerous subject C34.

Ghost was apprehensive about opening this metal door, built taller than any doors he’d seen, it was as wide as it was tall, metres over what would be considered normal for a human or monster, similar to the wide gates that protected British castles, tall and imposing, but the most worrying was it’s vast amount of security measures. He thought back to the blurrier giant he saw in the picture, their shape indescribable and otherworldly, almost alien-like. His eyes met Soap’s reassuring ones, standing steadfast and unyielding to do good in the world. So with a nod, Ghost worked through the locks and scans of the heavy, metal door made to keep this cement cage closed. This door clicked loudly, echoing down the hall with ominous intent, foreseeing something damming and destructive.

Yet they hadn’t expected to see another cage within the cage, a box made of reinforced glass, large and robust and inside of it was another cage, a rough metal one with bars for walls, a sick joke of a bird’s gilded cage. It would’ve seemed almost exaggerated to have three layers - three different cages - to keep one subject safely locked up until he caught sight of the monster. Lying on the cold, metal ground with legs folded in, tail curled around them and staring at both him and Soap with cautious curiosity. It looked like a gryphon if it were more reptilian than a mammal, this monster had a human torso, a head wearing a stoic expression, dressed in rags. Where there would normally be legs was the body of a bird, an eagle perhaps from the golden-brown plumage and reptilian legs from the knee down, followed by a fully scaled back, hind legs and a strong tail. Each toe was tipped with a sharp claw, big and deadly if it got its hands on someone, it could easily rip into anyone without putting in much effort. The biggest thing about it was the folded wings, feathered and equipped with a talon. If it could fly, these wings would be powerful.

He understood why they kept it locked, it was neither man, monster or hybrid. It was a beast of human creation, a creature made to be at the peak of its condition. It was smart, he could see it, the glint in its eyes and the pursed lips, mien kept monotone and calm —observant.

What did Laswell sign them into?

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly

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desert-fern · 1 year

Text

A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 3: Intel

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

*GIF is from Pinterest, not mine*

A/N: Love you all so much, thank you for reading! Part 3 is set immediately after the cut in part 2, so feel free to go back and read part 2 if you forgot what went down!

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death (If missed anything, let me know!)

Word Count: 2.0k

Read on Wattpad or AO3

Masterlist >> Part 2 >> Part 4

===

“I saw that Sir. New intel on al-Hameed’s location?”

“Yep,” he replied. “Satellite imaging confirmed his arrival outside Ash Shamli. Khrushov and Osmund are him.”

Bear blinked in surprise. “Khrushov? Like Mikael Khrushov? The arms dealer?”

Harris nodded. “The very same. Air Force radar in Riyadh noted al-Hameed’s presence two days ago in Saudi.” He paused, grabbing a file off of his desk and began to flip through it. “It’s estimated that the pair and their entourages will be in Saudi Arabia for the foreseeable future as Khrushov is now wanted in Belarus as well as Central and Eastern Europe on several charges of arms dealing, terrorism plots, and more. Osmund, on the other hand, is wanted in over 20 countries for theft of government secrets and is behind several data leaks from major foreign governments.”

“So what does this mean for us?” Bear asked. Scenarios were running through her mind, possible alterations to their plans, supplies, and personnel were now at the forefront. “Will this be a collaboration with the Air Force? Because you know my history with them, Sir.”

“As of now, Commander, we have very little information on what this means. All I can advise you and your team to do is prepare for a joint operation. Extra weapons drills, covert training, the works,” Shark told her, his face grim. “I am assigning your team a detonation expert in the likelihood of you needing them.”

Bear just nodded, her face schooled into the most neutral look she could muster. “One more question. You mentioned a joint operation, who is joining us?”

Rear Admiral Harris nodded. “That is true. The USS Abraham Lincoln is heading out in a few weeks. I believe that Busan is their destination. Our inland target of, well…I trust you to fill everyone in at the meeting tomorrow.” He paused, fingers tapping on the desk in front of him. “Long story short, we have incoming air support to help us with a few fly overs. They have their own mission, but Admiral Simpson has okayed a squadron as backup for a brief interval while we do extra recon and then again as air support.”

She blinked. “Sir, pardon the question. But are we sure that’s wise? Riyadh is a US Air Force base. Navy pilots and the Air Force don’t get along. I’d rather not be caught up in the middle of a military pissing contest.” Bear made eye contact with Rear Admiral Harris and saw that arguing was futile. “I will make plans to speak with the officer in charge asap, Sir. After the meeting tomorrow.”

“See to it that you do, Commander. You have always yielded results, I see no reason for you to disappoint me. You are dismissed.” Harris waved her off as he returned to his paperwork, leaving Bear to retreat from the office.

As she walked off, it felt like her thoughts had been out through a blender. They were scrambled and whirling out of control, but for right now, there was nothing to be done. So she put them aside for the moment and hurried to her car, tossing her stuff inside and heading off to the bar where she would meet Phoenix. God she needed a distraction.

===

For some inane reason, they had gone to the Hard Deck and it appeared that nearly every other Navy member on base had the same idea. “Remind me why we decided to come here?” Bear yelled over the din. She elbowed past a few women, ignoring the indignant yelps and cries of them as she shouldered her way through.

“That was my bad! Sorry!” Phoenix yelled back. “But hey, we can just leave!”

“Grab a drink first? Then outside?”

A thumbs up from Phoenix, and she watched the pilot redirect herself out the door and onto the beach. Bear grimaced at the amount of people around her, the volume of everyone who’d packed themselves into the bar made it hard for her to keep track of everything going on. Sniper’s instinct, her Lieutenant had called it. She was hyper aware of everything around her and it was almost too much.

“You must be Bear!” Penny yelled over the noise, wiping a ring off the bar top. “What can I get you?”

The Seal snorted. Word traveled fast when pilots were involved. “Yep. Can I grab a beer and a lemonade from you?”

“For sure. Your tab?”

Bear gave her a thumbs up, and the older woman passed the drinks over a few minutes later. “There you go.”

“Thanks Penny.” She gave a quick wave before slipping back through the crowd, effectively disappearing. Once outside, Bear took a deep breath, relishing in the fresh air and the lack of noise.

She found Phoenix sitting in the sand a little ways away staring out at the water. “Here.”

“Oh, thanks,” came the reply as the pilot took the offered bottle. “What did you get?”

“Lemonade.”

“I swear sometimes that you and Bob are the same person,” Phoenix said, shaking her head in laughter. “You don’t drink?”

“I try not to,” Bear chuckled, shrugging as she did. “I hate the way alcohol tastes and I really hate the fact that it makes me less aware of what’s going on. But that’s just me.”

Phoenix hummed. “Fair enough.” She took a sip of her drink before setting it down in the sand. “What’s the deal with you and Bagman? Both of you were acting a little weird this afternoon.”

“It’s nothing. Pretty sure he’s just trying to piss me off,” the Seal replied, rolling her eyes. “And I’m not about to let him win.”

“Maybe. But it’s definitely more than that,” the pilot pressed. “I think that he’s into you.”

Bear choked on her lemonade. After a coughing fit, she managed to wheeze out “What?”

“Hangman, Jake, whoever, thinks that you, Bear, the Navy Seal, are hot as fuck and he seems to have a thing for women who have ‘resting murder face’.” Phoenix pointed at the other woman, before continuing. “And you have the best RMF I have ever seen.”

Bear just stared at her friend. “What the fuck Nix?” Disbelief was written all over her face and Bear found herself stunned at how her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of having the cocky blonde pilot’s attention.

“I’m not wrong. And from your very dramatic reaction, I’d be willing to bet that you think he’s hot too.”

“Umm…you’re very wrong,” Bear spluttered. “But because you’re my friend, I won’t tell you how wrong you are.”

“I’m honored…” Phoenix deadpanned, taking another sip of her drink. “What happened when you left earlier?”

“CO wanted to see me. New intel for our next deployment, other than that, I can’t really say much.”

“Classified?”

“Highly.”

Phoenix nodded, looking back out at the ocean before them. “When do you head out?”

“A few weeks,” Bear replied, sipping her drink. “Heard through the grapevine that you Daggers are about to ship out too. Any idea where?”

“Nope. It’s a mission assist though, could be fun depending on who we get sent out with,” Phoenix commented. “We will meet with them tomorrow. Get a sense of the mission and see how much lifting we have to do.”

Bear opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a shout. Turning, she saw the rest of the Dagger pilots hurrying across the sand to them. “Oh great,” she pretended to grumble. She had rolled her eyes, but the gesture was fond. “When did you flyboys get here?”

“A few minutes ago,” Fanboy yelled back, beaming at her. “Why? You miss us?”

She pretended to think, humming. “Nah, I do enough babysitting as it is.”

Rooster let out a loud mock gasp, pretending to stumble backwards. “How DARE you?” He screeched breathily.

Bear made eye contact with Phoenix and the pair burst into giggles. “Oh I dare very easily,” she teased, standing up and bumping his arm with hers. “Whatcha doing out here? Thought you’d be the life of the party, Bradshaw.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Jake said jokingly as he sidled up to her. She said nothing, choosing to smirk instead. Green eyes met brown and Jake saw the amusement and mischief twinkling in them. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

“Smart man.” Bear had turned to look up at him, giving him a teasing smile in response to his words. A cough from Phoenix had Bear narrowing her eyes and giving the pilot a hard look. “No.”

Sensing the sudden burst of tension, Payback spoke up. “So Bear. Are we ever going to get the story behind that?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes!” A shout rose up from the group of pilots standing around her.

“Fine. Fine,” Bear said, giving in. “I’m called Bear, because I’m a grumpy fuck in the morning.”

A man near the back of the group who she knew to be Harvard spoke up “That’s it? Not some deep dark secret behind it?”

“Why? You don’t believe me?” Bear asked, eyebrow raised.

“We have no proof that that’s even true!” Harvard argued.

“Send Jake in, he’ll get to the bottom of it,” Rooster joked, but his laughter stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the sharp look on Bear’s face.

“More like he’d bottom her,” Coyote whispered to Phoenix, who had to turn away to hide her laughter.

“Hey!” Jake yelled, his face going red. “No. Just no.”

Bear just sent him a wink, laughing to herself as he spluttered indignantly. “Nix told me that you ship out soon. Any idea when? Because I’m out in the next few weeks.”

“Unfortunately due to the classified nature of US Naval deployments, we are unable to provide that information,” Fanboy recited in a serious voice. The tone of his voice made the group crack up, himself included, with Bear rolling her eyes in fondness.

“Okay. Okay. Guess I should have expected that,” she said with a laugh, putting her hands up in mock surrender.

“Just messing with you,” Fanboy replied, still chuckling a little. “Sometime in the next few weeks too. We have a meeting tomorrow about it. Giving us details and shit.”

“Oh fun,” Bear said, eyes shifting around the group. Coyote and Payback had started throwing rocks into the ocean, yelling about how far they could throw, their loud voices seeming to echo around them. Harvard, Halo, and a few of the others had broken off into their own group and seemed to be chatting about nothing in particular. It made her smile at the easy camaraderie between them. She knew how difficult the Navy could be and she was just glad that they had their people around them.

===

Hours later, after night had fallen and the air grew cold, Bear finally stood up and stretched. “I’m heading out guys,” she said, to the protests of a few of the pilots around her. “My meeting is early tomorrow morning and I actually have to pay attention to this one because I’m leading it.”

“Aww c’mon!” The group protested, Rooster among the loudest. He admired Bear for her strength and the take-no-shit attitude she had. Plus he found it funny when she teased Hangman to no end.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She grinned widely. “I might see you all tomorrow. But if not, I’ll see you around.” With a wave, Bear began to walk towards her car.

A shuffle behind her had her shaking her head as she continued walking. “Can I help you, Hangman?”

Jake paused, stunned at the speed at which she’d guessed it was him. “How’d you-”

“I just do,” she said with a wide grin, cutting him off. Spinning to face him with a smirk, Bear spoke again “So, can I help you?”

“That depends.”

“Depends on what?” Bear raised an eyebrow in question, looking at him curiously.

It was Jake’s turn to smirk, green eyes seeming to glitter in the night as he peered at her. “On whether or not you plan on taking my offer, Teddy.”

Her confusion deepened. “What offer?”

“You know what? Never mind. I like my dick where it is and I would like to keep it there.”

“Oh, you mean that little line in the hallway earlier,” she said, smirking. “I highly doubt you can maintain the speed I need. You seem too much like a ‘one and done’ kind of guy.”

“My mama would have me by the throat if she ever got the impression that I treated women with so little respect,” Jake replied, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Especially if I left them as unsatisfied as you must be by some of the losers on base.”

Her eyes narrowed, but this time it wasn’t teasing. Bear looked angry; her face pinched and if looks could kill, Jake would be reduced to a grease spot on the sand. “Your mama would be so disappointed in your behavior right now, Lieutenant,” she snarled, her eyes nearly slits and venom coated every syllable. “And, for the record, my “satisfaction”, as you put it, is none of your fucking business.”

“Woah. Okay, chill,” Hangman raised his hand, almost placating the woman before him. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just that you wouldn’t be wound so tight if you took me up on my offer.”

“Well, I guess I won’t be so lucky as to fall under you,” Bear shot back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I should get going.” She turned and walked off, leaving a stunned Jake in her wake.

===

A/N: Kisses and hugs to my favourite editors/fangirls: @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s and @dakotakazansky you guys have saved my butt more times than I can count!

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