I know that nobody really reads these, and I'm not the best writer. Thank you to those of you that do take the time to acknowledge my writings. Please feel free to request anything you want. <3
"Okay where the hell do you expect us to go?" You asked putting a hand on your hip as you eyed Grif. He carried a duffel under his arm, looking to be filled with mostly junk food and sweat pants.
"Wherever the hell we want to." Grif rebutted, throwing a bag into the back of the warthog. Surprisingly, this was the most work you had ever see him do.
"Okay but were completely surrounded, canyon walls on three sides, an ocean on the other and we can't fly."
You watched as Grif grabbed another bag and throw it into the back seat/trunk. "Also, where the hell are we going to go where having a giant turret is acceptable?"
"I don't fucking know. Sarge wants to get away from Donut for awhile, apparently he's been 'having emotional talks' way too much lately." Grif turned to face you and mirrored your body position.
"So do I get to go? Or is this a," you cleared your throat and gave the best Sarge impression you could, "mission far too dangerous for the weak and helpless, especially a girl."
Grif gave you a judgmental look based on how he moved his arms to cross over his chest. You smiled brightly beneath your helmet but felt a red blush creeping up on your face. Donut would always laugh about your Sarge impression, your everyone impressions. He said that his favorite by far was the one you did of Grif. He said, "that is spot on Grif!".
"That was the worst impression I've ever heard." He said in a tone filled with disapproval. You smiled cheekily and replied, "Okay the voice is a little shaky, but the words were spot on! Right?"
"What's spot on?" Sarge suddenly yelled from behind you. Your body tensed, "N-nothing sir!"
"We were talking about the spot on the puma." Grif replied cooly.
"Warthog." Sarge corrected. He pulled a duffel bag out from no where and threw it into the back of the jeep with Grif's bag. It landed with a loud thud, making you question what he was packing.
"So," you started awkwardly, "where you guys going on this 'trip'?" You put quotations around the word trip with your fingers. Sarge straightened up and looked at you, "Anywhere away from Donut. For all I care we could go be with those dirty Blues."
"Are we ready to go for the mission sir?" Simmons entered into the conversation as he added his duffel.
"Mission?" You questioned raising your voice. "I thought this was a road trip!" You huffed, kicking dirt with your boot. The dirt created a cloud of tan before settling back into the ground.
"Road trip? We're surrounded by three canyon walls and an ocean. Where do you expect us to go? Also whose going to let us in with a giant turret on the back?" Simmons said.
"That's exactly what I said!" Grif shouted moving his hands back and forth by his side. He leaned back a small bit and you could almost see the shit eating grin spread across his face.
"Okay fine, do I at least get to go on this mission?"
All the men looked to you, then to one another. Grif shrugged his shoulders and turned to Simmons. Simmons did the same but with his hands as well then looked to Sarge.
Sarge said, "This is a mission far too dangerous for the weak and helpless!" He paused for a moment, "especially a girl!"
You gave Grif a look who pretended to pull on a nonexistent collar attached to his shirt.
"Well, where are you going?"
"We will tell you when we're back, okay? If we need anything you'll be the first to hear." Simmons said as he jumped into the back of the warthog with the turret. Grif positioned himself into the drivers seat and put his hands on the wheel. Sarge was the last to board. He stood next to you for a moment.
"Y'know (L/N), if we do die on his mission, there's something I want you t'know." He grasped your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. It was strange moments like these you had with Sarge, he acted like he was your father or something.
"What is it?"
"I want you t'know that you've always been my favorite. Don't tell Simmons."
"I won't sir."
"Alright, ahem." He cleared his throat, "Well see ya on the flip side soldier." It was almost as if you two hadn't just had that conversation.
"See ya Sarge."
You observed as Sarge ran to the vehicle and jumped into the side seat. They all waved at you and the engine came to life with a roar. An explosion of dust filled the air, getting into your filter. It rapidly filled your lungs, causing you to erupt into an outbreak of coughs and wheezes. The car took off toward the Blue base, there was no exit that way?
It came to a screeching halt just outside and the men climbed out. Sarge stretched as if he'd been in the car for hours; Grif allowed to scratch himself in places unmentionable lit by broad daylight. Simmons magnetized his gun to his back and looked to the other men.
"Fuck you guys." You exhaled to yourself.
"Right back at ya!" Grif's voice transmitted through the radio.
"Oh fuck me." You said realizing your radio was still on.
"As soon as I get back." Grif chuckled.
