A Book By Its Cover
A/N:. Thanks to VR Trakowski for her beta services on this. All the mistakes are mine, though.
Disclaimer: I don’t believe people really read these, so let’s see if anyone notices that this one is different.

Lady Jaye was faintly aware of being transferred to a Tomahawk and someone telling her that they were waiting for a break in the storm before taking off, but she was otherwise out cold until they reached the hospital in Heidelberg. Once there, a small army of doctors and nurses swarmed over her and went to work, leaving her suspicious that Hawk had personally lit a fire under the medical staff.

After being poked, prodded, injected and hooked up to what seemed like every piece of diagnostic or monitoring equipment in the hospital, they finally cleaned her up, bandaged her wounds and wheeled her into an empty ward.

She was eating crackers when Scarlett knocked lightly, sticking her head around the door. “How are you feeling?”

“Anemic,” she chuckled wryly, eyeing the tech who was leaving with what Jaye felt was an excessive amount of her blood for even more tests.

“Suck it up. After what you’ve been through, that should have been a cakewalk.” Scarlett grinned as she sat gracefully on the edge of the bed, a large diplomatic attaché bag over her shoulder. Snakes and Flint entered as well, standing near the wall.

“Good to see you, too,” Jaye said lightly, pausing to take a sip of apple juice. “I’m glad you’re finding all of this amusing.”

“I have every reason to be happy.”

She returned the grin for a moment before turning serious. “Where are the others?”

“Busy,” Flint said.

“That microfilm you saved had a lot of information on it,” Scarlett added.

Lady Jaye accepted the vague answers without question, recognizing the hallmarks of a classified mission. “Well, thanks anyhow. To all of you. I owe you guys.”

“Oh, who keeps tabs on that,” Scarlett answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You’d have done the same for any of us.”

“I still appreciate it.” Despite the redhead’s assurance, she still planned to find a way to show her gratitude to her friends later. “I guess I have Hawk to thank for a room to myself.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure that was for the other patients’ benefit,” Scarlett said with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “No need to make those sick souls have to smell you.”

“The nurses hosed me down,” Lady Jaye said with a resigned sigh; she had the feeling she was going to be the butt of numerous good-natured jokes involving goats for the next few weeks.

Scarlett chuckled as she smiled. “Is there anything you need?”

“Is there a vending machine around? I’m starving.”

“Can you eat?” Flint asked.

Lady Jaye turned her head to look in his direction. He hadn’t sounded rude – not exactly – but he stood tensely, his arms crossed over his chest. He’d normally be the one cracking jokes with an injured teammate, trying to cheer them up.

“Yeah, I just got to the ward too late for dinner. I think they raided the other patients’ leftovers for this,” she said, pointing out a few packs of crackers, a container of Jell-O and two cups of juice.

“Are you in a ‘bag of pretzels to tide me over to breakfast’, or a ‘wheel the whole machine in here and kick out the glass’ mood?” Scarlett asked.

“I don’t need the whole machine,” Jaye answered. “But something more than a bag of pretzels would be great.”

“The commissary is still open. We haven’t had dinner yet. I’ll go grab us all something to eat,” Flint said.

Scarlett cocked her head at his terse tone, and she discreetly nodded toward the exit. Snake Eyes followed, silently closing the door behind him. Setting the diplomatic attaché on the bed, she narrowed her eyes, but it was tempered by her curling lips. “I think it’s time we had a little chat about your movie career.”

“Are you sure it won’t offend your Southern sensibilities?”

“Be nice, or you don’t get your gift,” Scarlett said, darting her eyes to the bag. “A certain bunkmate of ours sent an emergency care package over. And you really need the hairbrush.”

Laughing, they passed the time joking about the stories of Lady Jaye’s supposed porn career that were floating around base and other gossip until the guys returned, each carrying a large paper sack.

Flint was quiet except to ask her which type of soup and sandwich she wanted, fishing out the appropriate items and putting them on her tray. He added a large container of milk, a bag of chips, an orange and a thick slice of chocolate cake, causing Jaye to raise an eyebrow.

“A multi-course dinner. It’s been a while. You really know how to show a girl a good time,” she quipped, and she thought he nearly smiled back at her.

He did pull a chair beside her bed, frowning as the other two started packing up their dinner. “You don’t have to go,” he said shortly.

“It’s okay,” Scarlett said as she transferred everything into one bag.

“We’re all colleagues here,” Flint added, looking at Snakes. “You don’t have to go hide in a corner to eat.”

“Thanks for the offer,” Scarlett said, making no attempt to hide her sarcasm, “but it’s for your benefit, not Snake Eyes’.”

Jaye frowned as she glanced around the room. Flint may have meant well, but for all his intelligence, he never seemed to take the right approach with the pair of no-nonsense martial artists. Scarlett was obviously not happy with him right now, and it was impossible to judge how the ninja had taken his words – it was rare for Snakes to give anything away in his body language.

But the big lug-head was also right; there was no need for Snake Eyes to hide from them. She’d seen part of his face, once, and it had been a horrible sight that she had never wanted to see again. But he had risked his life to help save her, and she knew he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

They were still dressed in the dark woolen clothing from the mission, not even leaving the hospital long enough to change or shower. Lady Jaye knew how prickly it got under those rubber masks when they were worn for an extended time, and the humidity only made it worse; he hadn’t complained once – he never did – but for all his skills, Snake Eyes was human, and he had to be terribly uncomfortable.

More importantly, Snakes was a friend, and it was wrong that he felt he had to hide his disfigurement from her for her own sake; she was embarrassed for not thinking of it herself earlier.

“Flint has a point,” she said softly, having to turn to her side to see Snake Eyes by the head of the neighboring bed. “There’s no reason for you to go somewhere else to eat.”

He watched her for a moment, and she gave him an encouraging nod. Shrugging his shoulders, Snake Eyes faced Flint, took off his sunglasses and began peeling off his mask.

Jaye grimaced as it came off – when she knew he wouldn’t be able to see her reaction – quickly adopting a neutral expression before he opened his eyes. The scarring was more extensive than she had imagined, but it was also the first time she’d seen his eyes. It was the only part of his face that was readable, and his expression there was guarded; she doubted he had been an easy man to read, even before the accident.

There was, however, a visible trace of tension in Snakes’ muscles – a definite ten on the Richter scale of ninja annoyance – and Jaye hoped her well-meaning goofball hadn’t gotten himself into trouble.

“Huh. That’s not what I was expecting.”

“Flint,” she hissed, snapping her head around to give him an impatient glare, surprised that he didn’t recognize how insensitive he sounded.

He didn’t look at her, never breaking eye contact with Snake Eyes, even though the warrant officer was a little green. Flint finished chewing his bite of chicken sandwich and swallowing it before saying anything else.

“My Uncle Rob was a pilot for Cessna. One day when I was little, his plane got hit by lightning. He managed to land, but there was a cockpit fire. I don’t even remember what he looked like before the accident; he was just my favorite uncle who was … different,” he explained slowly, and Jaye glanced around to see the others watching him cautiously.

“He was messed up pretty bad, and he was never able to leave the convalescent home. The whole family used to go there every Sunday and holidays for chapel services. We’d even take him outside for picnics when the weather was nice.

“He was a great guy. He never let his injuries get him down, at least not when we were around. Uncle Rob lost most of his fingers in the accident, but he took his time to explain how to throw a curve ball to my cousin Peter and me, how to throw a football and tackle better, gave us tips on building model planes. He told us wild stories about his missions over Korea, and what it was like to fly. He taught us a lot of things.”

Flint paused for a moment, clearing his throat before sipping his coffee thoughtfully – all the while looking directly at Snake Eyes. “I think he knew he was dying and he wanted to give his son a lifetime of advice and memories, and I was lucky enough to get included. There’s a lot I wish he had had the time to talk to us about.”

Jaye gave him a sympathetic look as he paused again; it was rare for him to talk about anything personal, let alone something so painful. It sounded like he had been closer to his uncle than he was to his own father, and it was clear that he still missed the man. Even Scarlett’s expression had softened with compassion.

“When it came time for the funeral, my Aunt Betty had a closed casket service. I remember being angry with her – why couldn’t we see him one last time? She told me that ever since the crash, all people saw was the accident – the victim – never the man. I didn’t understand her,” Flint said, gazing purposely at Snake Eyes, “not at the time.”

“You’re right. People never see past the scars,” Scarlett said with more kindness than Jaye had ever heard her use when addressing him, her expression a mixture of gratitude and surprise at Flint’s awareness. Both martial artists were regarding the warrant officer intently, undoubtedly re-evaluating their opinions of him, and their postures relaxed almost simultaneously.

Lady Jaye gave Flint a kind nod when he glanced at her, glad that he’d shared the story with them. It not only gave her more insight into him, but it made her aware of how little she had thought about the effects Snakes’ injuries had on him. She knew the obvious – the loss of his voice, the need for the mask – but she had never really considered how people treated him.

She then turned toward Snake Eyes, trying to imagine what his life was like, never able to show his face in public, of having people acting as if the scarring was all there was to him.

On the team, he was held in such high regard, but that was for his abilities, not for who he was; she doubted anyone besides Scarlett and Stalker had any real clues as to his inner thoughts or personality. Strangers saw a monster, when in reality he had lived through more tragedy than anyone should ever have to face, and – despite it all – he was still a good man who’d do anything for his friends.

It took a bit of effort, but she forced down her revulsion and gave him a friendly smile. “You don’t have to worry about wearing a mask around us.”

Snakes met her eyes for a moment, and he signed a heartfelt, “Thanks.”

She started to answer him when Flint added, “But that’s not what I thought your face would look like. It really does look more like shrapnel damage.”

“It’s better than someone who screams,” Snake Eyes signed quickly when she rolled her eyes, and her lips twitched at the ease with which he took Flint’s less-than-tactful wording. It probably was a welcomed break from the typical reactions he received, and the ninja appeared almost amused by his blunt acceptance.

“When the fuel line exploded, it blew out the Plexiglas window on the helicopter door,” Scarlett said in a pained voice. “He was in front of it at the time.”

Jaye winced involuntarily, easily imagining the horror of the scene; Rock-n-Roll had told her Snake Eyes’ head had still been on fire when he had carried Scarlett from the burning wreckage. “It’s a miracle it didn’t damage your eyes,” she told him, and he nodded firmly in response.

When Flint waved to the neighboring bed, Scarlett and Snake Eyes settled on it to eat, with Snakes taking a position out of her direct line of sight. Lady Jaye made a point of turning to face him whenever she talked to one of them, and she thought his facial distortion was a fleeting smile.

Jaye tried to pay Flint for their dinner, but he refused, simply saying he’d get most of the cost back when he filed his expense report. She looked at the abundance of food he’d provided skeptically, but he wouldn’t budge, so she decided to find an opportunity to return the favor later.

Despite her exhaustion and aching muscles, the idea of spending time alone with him actually elicited a response from her body, and she blinked in surprise. She was attracted to him, there was no doubt of that, but the strength of the feeling was new. And … very enthralling.

She was getting sleepy but was enjoying the camaraderie too much to ask them to leave. The mood was ruined when a nurse opened the door, catching sight of Snake Eyes and shrieking before he could retrieve his mask and pull it back on. The frazzled woman offered a weak apology as he turned around to put on the fresh mask Scarlett took from her jacket pocket; the nurse quickly gave Jaye her medicine and checked her IVs before making a hasty exit, muttering another apology as she left.

“I think someone needs her beauty sleep, anyway” Scarlett said, squeezing her hand in parting, and Jaye was asleep before the others had finished gathering and tossing the trash.

When she woke up to the sound of thunder, the room was dark except for a small light off to the side, and she turned to face it, frowning to see Flint sprawled out in a chair.

“It’s just a storm. Go back to sleep,” he said in a surprisingly soft voice.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“A little after two.”

She shook her head in mid-yawn. “In the morning? Why are you still here?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Jaye eyed the stark, unpadded, wobbly wooden chair on which he was sitting, giving him a pointed stare. “I wonder why,” she said sardonically, but he just shrugged as he gazed at his boots.

After yawning again, she sat up in the bed, confused by both his presence and mood. “Did I screw up something on the mission? You act like you’re angry with me.”

“What?” He looked up in surprise. “No.”

“Then why are you so grumpy?”

Flint stretched slowly, not looking her in the eye as he replied. “I hate spook operations. From what I gather, they had a pretty good idea that the terrorists knew about the safe house, but they didn’t bother sharing that piece of information before you left for the mission. Who knows what else they didn’t tell us.”

Lady Jaye considered his answer; she believed what he had said, just as she knew there was more that he wasn’t telling her. She didn’t press the issue, though – many of their missions were classified, not even talked about with other team members. If he wasn’t telling her something, he probably had his reasons.

“You should try getting in a bed. You might be able to sleep,” she suggested kindly.

“I’m fine,” he said around a wide yawn.

She gave him a scathing look, but he missed it as he continued to inspect his bootlaces.

“You’re really taking this whole ‘knight in shining armor’ gig too far,” she said, raising an eyebrow in surprise when he let out a loud, derisive snort.

“If you’re a damsel in distress, I’m afraid to meet what passes for a femme fatale,” he told her seriously.

“You already have. Redhead from Atlanta, overly fond of crossbows.”

He shifted on his chair. “Yeah, I got the feeling she wanted to use me for target practice.”

“Oh, that. She heard about the San Francisco mission. You know how stories grow on base,” she said, giving her head a bob. “And I may have mentioned that I wanted to push you out of an airplane without a parachute a time or two … hundred.”

“So I heard,” he said curtly.

Rolling her shoulders, she moved into a more comfortable position on the bed. Was that his problem? Scarlett could certainly be harsh when she was upset and probably had given him a hard time. From the sounds of it, her friend had let him know how unwelcome his earliest advances had been, and Jaye felt a bit embarrassed as she remembered some of the choice comments she had made about Flint. But her responses to his advances had never been coy, and they certainly hadn’t discouraged him then.

“You have to know that you didn’t make a great first impression,” she said, grinning at him to lighten the mood. “Or second, or third…”

“I get the picture.”

She frowned, confused as to why it was bothering him now. “You tried too hard.”

“You make it sound like I had a chance.”

“You always have,” Jaye said, resisting the urge to laugh when he looked up in astonishment, his expression slowly changing to a wide, crooked grin.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me forever.”

She gave him a sharp look. “Put a lid on it, dummy. I don’t like this guy.”

“Huh?”

“The bravado is a turnoff, Flint.” When he stared at her in confusion, she continued in a gentler voice. “I like the guy who makes me laugh, the one I know who’ll have my back on a mission. The guy who can talk to me for hours about Shakespeare. You know, the knucklehead who went to Oxford.”

His guarded appearance morphed into delight. “You finally figured that out,” he said, scooting his chair to her side.

“I don’t have time to go around reading everyone’s personnel files for fun,” Jaye shot back with a grin. “Why don’t you ever talk about it?”

“Knowing that your mission leader can tell you about the influence of German Pietism on the Romantics doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence in the troops,” he said with a shrug.

Once again, she found herself accepting his answer even as she realized there was more that he wasn’t willing to share with her – at least not yet. When he failed to suppress a long yawn, she grumbled to herself as she slid to the far side of the hospital bed, taking care not to bump her IVs.

“We’ve already established you’re a gentleman,” she said warningly as she patted the empty mattress by her side. “Don’t make me change my opinion of that.”

He stared at her for a long moment before taking his boots off, his expression almost disappointed. “Do you think I’d take advantage of you while you’re in a hospital bed?”

“You’d lose a lot of points if you did. And I would hurt you.”

He chuckled as he gingerly climbed in beside her, lying down on his side near the edge of the mattress to keep at least an appearance of space between them; not that it was too effective – his scent, his warmth, were easy for her to pick up on, and there was no way she could deny her attraction. Not that she was in any position to do anything about it, but he definitely drew a reaction from her.

He reached over to brush a lock of hair out of her face, withdrawing his hand before she had time to comment, but her skin tingled at his touch. His eyes darkened with desire briefly, but he closed them, taking a calming breath to rein himself in.

Lady Jaye was surprised when she moistened her lips in anticipation of a kiss she knew wouldn’t – couldn’t – come yet. She wanted more than sex; if nothing else, she wanted to be sure they would remain friends afterwards. Besides, the various IVs created a medical obstacle course she was in no condition to have him try to navigate.

“I’m thinking this wasn’t a hot idea,” she said, her voice husky despite her efforts to sound calm.

“It’s okay.”

When Flint opened his eyes, he flashed her a joking grin. “So, what finally won you over? My wit, my charm …”

Recognizing his attempt to release the tension with humor, she kept her own tone teasing. “Not the ego. Go to sleep, Flint.”

“I want to know what works.”

“You didn’t listen to what I told you, did you?” she said, smiling as she closed her eyes.

“Yeah, you said that I have a chance. Do you want to improve my odds? You’ll get a great payoff,” he said salaciously.

Jaye gave a dramatic sigh before turning her head to face him. “You’re going to make me have to hit you, aren’t you?”

“Hit or hit on?” he asked, deliberately teasing her as he leaned up on his elbow, looking down on her with an openly amused expression.

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

“Like I’m going to be able to sleep now.”

Jaye opened an eye again to give him a mock-glare. “I’m a qualified expert with a reflex crossbow, too. I don’t need Scarlett’s help to turn you into a pincushion.”

“I’m behaving,” he chuckled. “For now.”

“Hush,” she directed, pausing when she heard the sound of him scratching his heavy stubble. “By the way, the Miami Vice look doesn’t work for you.”

“Yeah, I forgot to shave, but I don’t own anything in pastel.”

“Good, dark colors look better on you.”

“I know,” Flint chuckled.

“You would,” she laughed in return.

“So, when we get back to base…”

Jaye’s lips curled upward as she pretended to go back to sleep. “I’m going to use you for target practice.”

“I think you’ll like my aim,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows when she frowned at him.

“How can you turn ‘target practice’ into something lewd?”

Flint’s eyes danced with mirth in the dim light. “Practice.”

“Your stunning repartee notwithstanding, I’m tired,” she said. “And I have had too many tubes stuck in me today, and I don’t mean IVs.”

“Ouch.”

“Right, now go to sleep.”

Flint started to reply with another joke, but the door to the ward opened, and a very angry nurse crossed the room to jerk him by the back of his collar. “I told you you couldn’t stay in here!”

“I warned you to be quiet,” Lady Jaye pointed out flippantly as he reached for his boots.

The nurse was railing at him, wanting to know how he’d gotten back into the room, and Jaye gave him a questioning look. When his eyes rolled in the direction of the cracked-open window, she bit back a laugh; obviously, the nursing staff considered the fact that the ward was on the third floor would rule out visitors coming in that way.

“Go get some sleep,” she called out.

Flint nodded, letting the nurse drag him from the room, his happy grin shining the whole time.

TBC