DISCLAIMER: I do not claim ownership of or affiliation with G.I. Joe (or the specific franchise G.I. Joe Renegades). All materials belong to their respective copyright holders. I make no profit from this fan fiction.

WARNINGS: Cursing, violence, and sensitive issues that may offend some readers (alcohol and drug abuse, depression, stereotyping, among others). Hopefully, nothing too graphic, but this is rated T, which means if you have delicate sensibilities or are not 13+, you should probably not read this. I would not want to accidentally corrupt the youth. *Cue Angelic Face*

CATEGORIES: Renegades, Scarlett/Shana O'Hara, T, Drama & Friendship (with sides of Humor and Angst)

SUMMARY: Renegades AU. Shana O'Hara's back story, with a twist. "Shana O'Hara was being shipped off to some distant special school, for, let's see, the fifth time?" T for cursing, violence and sensitive issues that may offend individuals.


Prologue: A Lady's Education

She drove without looking back at her pathetic father or the house. The house held too many fricking memories.

Of course, the most pathetic thing was, she would go. Like a good little girl. She wouldn't detour to, say, her boyfriend's house in Louisiana for two weeks, or her BFF's home to crash. Mostly because long-term relationships were really not worth it, so she'd never bothered cultivating them. It was like growing weeds, eventually they choked you and tore off the skin on your hands when you tried removing them.

So. Where was Shana O'Hara being sent?

Shana O'Hara was being shipped off to some distant, Godforsaken hellhole for, let's see, the fifth time? No, sixth, because of that one really short stay-only four months and three weeks, a new record.


This time, it was a military school. For senior year. And she'd been sent in early. If that wasn't horror enough, it was an all-girls military school. An all-girls military school that had the most ridiculous uniforms-like they were off Sailor Moon. Sure, those uniforms worked in anime, but Shana was definitely not a Magical Girl.

If she was, she would definitely magic herself back nine years and-Okay, Shana, stop. Don't even go there.

Don't even. Go there. No.

Actually, she recalled, the other hellholes had been rather nice, once she'd stopped caring. And God, wasn't that an O'Hara trait, definitely passed down from her father the scientist-

No. No, no, no, no.

Not ever. Never ever. Don't think about that, Shana. Just build up your walls. Don't think, don't even care. Don't.

Damn, seeing her father always made her want a cigarette. She'd promised to quit after he found out she was smoking. She had, but now...why the hell not?

Cigarettes, she mused, were perfect. You could kill yourself slowly with them. They were even borderline socially acceptable. And in the crowds she ran with, you needed something as an excuse to pass up the drugs and the alcohol. Oh, I'm just gonna smoke a cigarette. You want one?

She was in control with cigarettes, but not with weed or copious amounts of cheap beer. It amused her to see everyone else fall out of control, though. Peeing their pants and groping one another. Anyone who tried that on her, though, would get an introduction to her right cross.

Double Ha.

She'd never been popular, never had a coterie of pretty friends/sycophants. Too much of a threat to the pretty girls, the brainiacs, the athletes (both genders, thank you)...everyone, basically.

She was the exotic animal, rare, beautiful and prone to biting your fingers off (DANGEROUS: DO NOT FEED). Boys found her attractive, the types who thought they were big men, real bad boys. It was a game to them, trying to "win" her. As if she could be won, like some cheap kiddy toy at a fair. She could always beat them half to death if they wanted too much, tried too hard. She'd done it before.

But really, it was a game for her, too. See how close you can get without giving yourself away and letting them know this is just a diversion. Just a high school/college romance, a few broken hearts, no biggie.

Of course, yeah, she'd date older guys (college, exhibit A), but no one really old. That was when you got into the real perverts, the pedo-guys in trench coats with cameras. Because, you know, nothing screams child-molester/stalker like a trench coat. And a baseball cap.

She'd become really good at being a chameleon, blending in and giving people what they wanted. Because as long as you were what they expected, people left you alone. Of course, you have to have some aura of mystery to get people interested, keep 'em guessing. But for Authority Figures (cue the angry principal), the contrite "bad" girl, damaged by the loss of her mother (no female Role Model, so sad) and her father's typical male cluelessness about his child, usually worked. Poor kid, she wasn't bad at all, just misguided.

(Cue Cro-Magnon male, beating hairy chest.)

Of course, her father was no Cro-Magnon. She fingered the necklace chain of the locket he'd given her. A college professor couldn't be stupid, but socially he could be a bit awkward. Her mother had always-


Soon as she saw a gas station/cheap junk mart, she was getting a pack of cigarettes. Scratch that. Two.

Hell. Maybe she'd just buy out the place, take all the packs they had, and smoke her way to lung cancer.

Not like she had much to live for, anyway. No purpose. Like that cheap kiddy junk at fairs, shabbily made at bargain prices and shoved into some godforsaken cabinet. And by godforsaken cabinet, she meant military school.


(Obnoxiously Long) A/N: Feedback is greatly appreciated. I will answer any questions in the next chapter's author's note (as long as answering those questions won't give my plot points away!).

I will try to update this in either a few days or a few weeks (depends on if I get frustrated and restart everything-and if my computer cooperates with me).


This all goes downhill from here: More swearing, some violence, angst, and original characters. Hopefully, my OCs will not shoot lasers from their eyeballs/turn into fairies/other weird stuff. They will mostly be supporting and filler characters.

Anyone have ideas for girls' names, first and last? I'm stuck. I've got one that I like, but the rest are just...ugh. I can't name things, okay?

Speaking of names... the title is Fatale, as in femme fatale, which literally translates from the French to "deadly woman."

And yes, I am planning to introduce some Cobra villains and a ninja. (Later. Be patient. I have to set things up first.)

First Chapter: First official day of school, when Shana is warmly welcomed by a fellow classmate. *Note heavy, heavy verbal irony (scientifically referred to as sarcasm).* She is also called down to the head's office. Wonder why?

I was dragged into this by force. Thank you for reading my drivel!

-Miss Horsehead