[Author's Note: Hey guys! Just wanted to give a little warning before this one. It's border lining on M because of the language in the first chapter, but after that, it's not so bad. This is a Fox x Falco story, so they'll be some foreplay towards the end. If you don't like it, don't read it. Easy.

Thanks! R&R!]

Fox sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed. His ears laid back as he gazed dully across the room at his formal military outfit. It was simple but still held authority. The jacket was white and had two gold rings around the ends of the sleeves. Of course there were medals and rows of ribbons on the chest of his jacket, then metals on the collar and on the shoulders. He had patches down the sleeves, showing he was a high ranking pilot and the leader of the Star Fox team that's been serving for about ten years. Under the white jacket went a white button up shirt and a black tie. The dress pants that went with it were black with a gold line going down the outside of the pant leg. His shoes were black and shined, looking so professional. The whole uniform hung there, looking so proud and beautiful.

And he hated it.

He wanted to rip it to shreds then soak it in gasoline. He wanted to throw it into a fire and watch it burn. He wanted to play target practice with all those damn Purple Hearts and Medals of Honor... Everything about his uniform made him sick, not because of the reason he got the awards. He didn't need medals to be proud of fighting for Corneria and his father, but he hated how he was viewed when he had that uniform on. To anyone that saw him wearing that, he was just some pile of flesh and blood with a shiny uniform. If you're friends with the leader of the most skilled and powerful air force team, who also just happens to be friends with the general of the entire military, you could get away with a lot. At least that's what they thought. And it was sort of true. Falco got away with a lot of shit Fox wouldn't let anyone else do, but Falco fought just as hard as Fox, so he had a right to fuck around.

But that wasn't the point. Fox was a person too. He didn't do what he did just to get some piece of copper painted gold. He did what he did because he knew it was right, because he knew his dad would do the same thing if he was in his shoes, because he loved his planet and wanted to protect everyone on it. He could give two shits what any ambassador thought of him, he knew he was the best, yet he still smiled and shook hands with everyone of the little fuckers.

Fox sighed. He wondered if his dad got this feeling...

"Yo Fox!" the vulpine suddenly heard a certain blue feathered aviator call from outside his door as he gave it a few bangs, "You ready?" Fox didn't answer him or look at the door. "Fox?" Falco tried again then opened the door and peeked his head inside. He looked at the other and raised an eyebrow, "Dude what are you doing?" he asked, walking into his friend's room.

Fox glanced over at him, looking him over with a quick flick of his bright emerald eyes, seeing his friend was in his formal military uniform too, which was the same as Fox's, right down to the medals and ribbons. He looked back up at the other's crystal blue ones, "Don't you look dashing?" he said dully then looked at his uniform again.

Falco put a hand on his hip, having a hand on the door. He tilted his head, "Why ain't you ready? We're leaving in ten minutes," he asked.

"I ain't goin',"

"What the hell you mean 'you ain't going'? Of course you're going! If I have to dress up like some shit eatin' monkey and smile like I give two shits about what those money pinchin' fucks have to say, then so do you!"

"Such a dirty month you have," Fox glanced at him again, "You know that?"

"Stop changing the subject,"

Fox looked away from him and back at his uniform. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, going quiet again. Falco watched his friend for a long moment then kicked the door shut. He walked over to him and plopped down beside him on the bed, "Ok," he said, propping his forearms up behind him so he could lean back against them, "Other than trying to develop laser vision to burn your suit with, what's on your mind?"

Fox shrugged, "Nothin',"

Falco looked at him then leaned towards him. He pressed his nose into the fur of Fox's cheek, making the vulpine close one eye and tilt his head to the side a little. He took a deep breath then pulled back, "You smell that? That smells like a load of shit," he said, "Now why don't we kick the tough guy act in the balls and get to the serious issue here,"

"What serious issue?" Fox asked, not looking bothered at all by his friend's lack of respect for his personal space, not that he had any when Falco was around. Being friends for so long, you just tend to not have personal space around each other.

"You're startin' to piss me off with that innocent act, Foxy," the bird said then looked at the other's uniform. Fox didn't say anything to this. It was quiet between them for a long moment before Falco looked back at his friend, "It's the image, isn't it? The image a shiny uniform gives,"

"Damn you're good," Fox said dryly then looked up at him, "I bet you're a beast at 20 Questions,"

"You know, you ain't the only one that wants to throw his uniform into a black hole. I hate this goddamn thing too, but I'm still gonna wear it, and you wanna know why I'm gonna wear this monkey suit?"

Fox looked back at his uniform, "You're going to tell me even if I say no,"

"I wear it, because I can get away with parking in the handicap parking space,"

Fox raised an eyebrow and looked at him, "Are you serious?"

"Tch, no, but it got a smile out of you, didn't it?" Falco said with a grin.

The vulpine stared at him a moment but then looked away, unable to hold back a small smile that pulled at the corner of his lips, "Tch,"

"See? Told ya,"

"You're an ass hole,"

"Hey, this ass hole happens to be the only person that can get you to smile when you're having one of your 'Oh my life is so fucked up' moments," Falco wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders, "Ok how about this? Put on your monkey suit, go and get your piece of copper, then play hooky with me,"

"Play hooky with you," Fox repeated, glancing up at him, "The last time I played hooky with you we ended up in the back of a stolen van with bucket of sea monkeys, duck tape, twelve cases of beer, and half our clothes were gone,"

"I told you, I didn't steal that van, I just took it without permission. But I promise it won't end up like that,"

"Oh no? What's going to be different? A bucket mayo instead of a bucket of sea monkeys?"

"Will you just shut up and trust me? You'll have fun,"

"Something tells me you're lying..."

Falco grabbed the other's muzzle and turned it so he would look at him. He gave him a look, "Since when do I lie to you, my fluffy little fuzz ball of a vulpine?" he asked. Fox returned his look with one of his own. Falco shied away at the look, "Ok ok, you win. Just put your monkey suit on, for me?" he batted his long eyelashes at him.

"Tch," Fox looked away, "I don't even like you,"

"Ok, well, then I guess I'll just go and tell Krystal how much you love her," Falco said, looking down at his nonexistent finger nails. He glanced at the other, hiding his smirk since he knew the tom couldn't really stand the vixen.

Fox's ear twitched in annoyance but he finally sighed and stood, "I hate you Falco," he said, walking across the room and grabbing his uniform.

Falco grinned, "I love you too Foxy," he stood, "Now hurry uuupp! You take forever!"

Fox grabbed the nearest thing to him and chucked it at the other. Falco put his hands over his head, dodging the paper weight, "Get the hell out of my room before I pluck your feathers out," he told him.

"Alright alright! I'm going! Damn!" Falco said then left, slamming the door shut behind him.

Once the bird was gone, Fox put on his uniform, not matter how much he hated it. He put his blaster under his jacket in his shoulder holster then walked out into the living room, where everyone was waiting.

"There you are Fox!" Peppy said, smiling, "My, I must say, you look quite dashing,"

"Thanks," Fox said a bit dully, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"You're welcome. Alright team, let's get going! Don't want to be late for the general's party," the hare said then turned and started towards the hangers. Slippy and Krystal followed him but Falco stayed back to walk with Fox.

The bird tossed his arm around the other's shoulders and pulled him close, "Ok so here's what I'm thinking," he started, "We go to this stupid party, get our medals, maybe drink a little, dance a little, act like we're enjoying the fact that we're rutting our lives away there," he explained, making wild hand motions with his free hand, "Then, you and I will say that we've gotta step outside for a smoke,"

"But we don't smoke," Fox pointed out, glancing up at him.

"No, but they wouldn't not that. So, we'll go outside, jump in our planes then-..."

"But our planes make a lot of noise. They'll know we're leaving,"

"Will you just shut up? I've thought this out all yesterday,"

"All of yesterday?"

"What, do you think I was going in without a battle plan? Hello!" Fox couldn't help but give a small smile and roll his eyes, then shook his head as he looked forward again. "So we'll get in our planes and fly off into the distance," Falco said, moving a hand across the horizon in front of him.

"How romantic,"

"Hey," Falco looked back down at him, "Would you like to stay at the party? Because I'll happily fly off without you. Or I could just drug you and throw you in the back seat. Whichever. Doesn't matter to me,"

"Naw, I'd rather be in a stolen van with a bunch of sea monkeys than be at that party," Falco opened his mouth to argue about the subject but Fox grabbed his beak, forcing it closed. He stopped and looked at the other then pulled his face down, "No alcohol, right?" he asked.

"Define alcohol..." Falco said, his voice muffled from the other holding his beak closed.

Fox pressed his forehead to his and looked him in the eye. There was that nonexistent fear for their nonexistent personal space, "Falco, you know what I mean. I don't want to come home shit faced tonight, ok? Waking up without a hangover is quite a beautiful thing. Perhaps you should try it," he explained, raising his eyebrows but keeping his eyes half lidded.

"Tch," Falco grabbed the hand that Fox was using to hold his beak closed. He pulled it off him, "You make me sound like an alcoholic. But no, there ain't gonna be no alcohol,"


"Yeah yeah, I promise,"

"Good," Fox stepped back, taking his hand back. He turned and continued walking.

Falco followed, "You don't scare me, ya know,"

"Yes of course," Fox said and walked over to his Arwing. He jumped inside and pulled the hatch down then started her up.