Two needles in a haystack? (Joe)

[God Mike]

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to fight off the incoming headache, but to no avail. He knew what this headache meant. He'd felt it many times when he was younger. Any moment now, he would black out, and hopefully not wake up to find himself splattered with blood that wasn't his own, that horrible taste in his mouth...

"Watch yourself," he told Joe, who was driving, as they approached the gates to New Chicago. "I think he is coming..." he said with disgust evident in his voice. Even his red zone hated Erik. He was just recklessly psychotic, with no semblance of a conscience. If he had to be compared to someone, he'd be compared to the Joker from Batman...

Mike's eyes drifted shut. Then, they snapped open again, and he looked around. His eyes landed on Joe, and a huge grin appeared on his face. "What's up, G.I?" he asked, laughing. "Like the name? I do. That's your name from now on. G.I Joe! Just be glad I don't greet you with 'Yo, Joe!'"

He laughed again and stretched. "Man, does it feel good to be out here again!" he exclaimed with a cackle. "New Chicago... I honestly prefer the old one. There, they won't start crying just because you slit someone's throat." Erik scoffed as he remembered his younger days, before the zombie outbreak. Everyone were so testy back then...

"So, what are we doing here, anyway?" Erik asked, raising an eyebrow at Joe. "I must've been asleep during your fucking boring stay in that Empire City pit of a town. Mike was even more boring than usual in that place! Fuckin' pisses me off!"

[Generalfoley]

Joe closed his eyes and sighed at Erik's rant. He then opened them and saw various passerby's stare at them and walk around them.

"You know, back in New York, I don't remember you talking as much." Joe looked around. They had just left the Jeep with the mechanic, and were now within New Chicago. The town was bigger than Joe remembered. It seemed to be flourishing far more than when he had last visited, now that various convoys of armored cargo trucks and buses were gathered at 'docks' for the town's famous fresh produce. Beef, pork, poultry, fish, fruits, vegetables, you name it, they had it.

He glanced over at Erik. "Just don't go crazy, and we'll be out in one piece in no time." He just needed to get to his contact. He didn't need Erik's appearance right now, he really didn't. With him around, there was a chance they would be apprehended by the authorities and he really, really didn't want to start running from the NCPD.

Joe rolled his shoulders, which were finally free from his armor. After the bullet he had taken in the arm, he had left the armor back at the bunker. Now he was just dressed in a dark gray shirt and a tan light dress shirt. He had rolled up the sleeves earlier.

He kept his hand on his carbine, wary of the caravans in town, and looked at the various venders that lined the streets. The town had grown so much.

[God Mike]

"You know, back in New York, I don't remember you talking as much." Erik gave Joe a glare. This guy was rubbing him the wrong way. Really rubbing him the wrong fucking way! His hands fisted as he fought the urge to just gut the punk right there. "Just don't go crazy, and we'll be out in one piece in no time."

"So you don't want me to talk, and you don't want me to go crazy?" Erik asked, clicking his tongue. "I can't do both, G.I," he said, reaching up and grabbing the hilt of his ninja-to. "And although I'd prefer to just go fucking ballistic and cut open as many guts as I can, there are alotta people with guns here, and I like living, so instead of going completely fucking mental on you and everyone else around me, I'm just gonna dedicate the time spent here to talking you to death."

Erik thought about that final statement as he let go of his ninja-to. "Well, either I'll talk until you die, or until I can get a nice, bloody steak, which is basically the only reason I came out in this fucking dumpster of a town..."

God, he wanted a steak right now... Well, not just a steak. He wanted a steak, a bloodbath, two of those jumpers for guard dogs, he wanted a TV, a stereo, a couple of whores, three kids to cut open, and he wanted to put a few more cuts on himself...

"So, G.I, guide me to the steakhouse, and then I'll be outta your hair, for now anyway."

[Generalfoley]

Joe rolled his eyes as he turned a corner walked. Man, did he have a mouth. Joe looked around before a sight met his eyes, a smile gracing his lips.

"There we are." Joe said to the sight of a bar, the title "Little Ireland" hung up on it's front.

"That, Erik, is where you'll get your steak, I'll get my drink, and where we'll get our information." Joe walked towards the bar, vigor in his step. When he had reached the doors, he opened them up, and walked to the bar, where a young woman was working on some paperwork.

Joe put on a sly grin, and said, "Well hey there, Sam. How're you and you're old man doin?" The young woman stopped and looked up, joy in her eyes.

"Joe!" She yelled, grabbing Joe in a bear hug over the bar. Joe's eyes bulged as he tried to breath. He pounded the desk a few times, and soon she got the message and released him. He smiled.

"How are ya kiddo?" Joe asked, his smile widening when he heard the rapid clanking of pots and pans in the back. It was then a burly middle-aged man walked out of the back, wearing a greasy white shirt and apron. His beard was a blend of brown and gray, and he wore a wide smile.

"Joseph, my boy!" The man yelled, his Irish accent apparent. "How are ya?"

Joe smiled even wider as he hugged the burly man, who crushed him as much as his daughter had done.

"Dex, I'm good. But I won't be if you don't let go, you're breaking my ribs." Joe wheezed out the last part. The old man laughed and let go.

Samantha looked over at Mike, er, Erik, and whispered to Joe, "Hey Joe," Her Irish accent was as apparent as her father's. "Who's the cutie who came in with ya?"

Joe looked back, and said, "That's Mike... Or Erik. Whoever's at the wheel at the moment." Joe turned back to Dex and Sam, who wore confused faces. Joe twirled his fingers around each other.

"He's a two in one deal." They nodded. Joe looked over at Dex, sitting down at the bar.

"Hey, uh, Dex, can I get a bottle of yer finest Chicago Brew?" Dex nodded, his smile returning and his laugh bellowing.

"That I can, Boy-o." He turned to Erik. "And fer you, boy, what can I get for ya?"

[God Mike]

Oh, for fuck's sake! Erik made a disgusted face as he watched the interaction between G.I and the girl, then him and that old fart that came out from... wherever he came out from, probably the kitchen. Erik couldn't exactly follow what he was saying. He was busy sniffing the air.

This was paradise. He could smell alcohol, sweat, cooked meat, some blood here and there, women... And that girl wasn't exactly ugly, either. "That's Mike... Or Erik. Whoever's at the wheel at the moment." Seeing their confusion, Joe clarified, "He's a two in one deal."

"Tch, there's three of us," Erik told Joe with a glare. "The red zone is just too fucking lazy to grow a proper personality. He just piggy backs Mike..." he muttered, then looked over the girl, a huge grin spreading on his face. It'd been a long time since he got laid. He didn't remember when Mike got laid, but it had been a long time since he got laid while Erik was in control.

"Hey, uh, Dex, can I get a bottle of yer finest Chicago Brew?" Christ, that old man was just rubbing Erik the wrong way, just like G.I... More than anything, he just felt like going ape-shit and tearing that pub or whatever it was called apart...

"That I can, Boy-o. And fer you, boy, what can I get for ya?"

"Fuuuck!" Erik exclaimed in frustration. "This place is just too fucking boring!" Growling, Erik suddenly slammed his forehead down on the counter rather hard. As he came up again, he glared at the old man. "Steak, as bloody as you possibly can. And you," he added, looking at Joe. "You make sure he fucking eats it!"

With that, Erik closed his eyes, and when they opened again, with Mike back in control, he raised his hands to his forehead. "Oooooow! My head hurts... Hey..." Blinking, Mike looked around. "Where are we?"

[Generalfoley]

Joe sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, having removed his goggles from his eyes earlier. He looked up at Sam.

"Sorry about that. He's a bit... a bit... mental." Joe looked over at Dex.

"Cancel the order for the steak. Mike here, as I now know he's Mike, will have a nice big bowl of Japanese-style noodles." Joe looked over at the dazed and confused Mike.

"Wouldn't ya like that, Mikey?" Sam slid the beer over to Joe, which he opened with a twist of his gloved hand. He took off his boonie hat and took a sip of the brew, sighing in content. He smiled over at Sam.

"Thanks, Sam. How's school goin'?" Sam avoided Joe's stare. Joe frowned, an eyebrow raised.

"Ya aren't skippin' classes again, are ya?" Sam sighed.

"School is so boring! Everything the teachers tell us is practically beneath me by now!" Joe nodded.

"Aye, but that's from all the books I lend ya. But this is also another lesson of life?" Joe sipped from his beer again, and looked at Mike.

"Oh yeah? And that would be, oh great Master?" Joe returned his stare to Sam.

"Patience is the greatest of virtues. That is the lesson. You must be patient, and keep up with your studies. That's the most important thing right now, until you graduate that is." Joe looked back at Mike.

"You feelin' alright, mate?"

[God Mike]

"Cancel the order for the steak. Mike here, as I now know he's Mike, will have a nice big bowl of Japanese-style noodles." All thoughts about the pain in his head disappeared as Mike heard the order Joe placed. Ramen?

"Wouldn't ya like that, Mikey?"

"R-Ramen?" Mike asked in shock as his mouth started watering. "I can have ramen?" He grabbed the old mans shoulders and grinned brightly at him. "I... am in your debt, ancient stranger! Truly!" He bowed his head in honor of this great ancient being as he sat down again.

Mike listened to Joe talking to the strange girl, who was admittedly very cute. He was chiding her for skipping classes? Mike snorted, shaking his head. Apparently finished speaking to the girl, Joe looked at Mike. "You feelin' alright, mate?"

"Not if you're gonna talk like that," Mike said, shaking his head. "What's wrong with you, man? I thought you were cool... Here," he said as he held out his hand, making circles with his finger and holding them up against Joe's face, around his eyes, "you wouldn't complete the look your projecting without your complimentary nerd glasses."

Mike let out a bark-like laugh as he pulled back, then pounded the counter with his fist, a huge grin on his face. "I'm outta the red, and I'm getting ramen! I feel great today!" he exclaimed, then added under his breath, "The only downside is that a psychotic alternate personality that was supposed to have been buried seems to have resurfaced, but there's nothing I can really do about that, is there? I mean, this stress I'm feeling, and-" Mike's eyes widened as he realized that he was rambling, and he pounded the counter again. "Whiskey!"

[Generalfoley]

Joe smiled as he saw Mike act as his normal self... he never thought the day would come when he said.

"Whiskey!" Joe rolled his eyes when he looked over at Sam.

"Hey, kiddo, can you round him up a glass of whiskey?" Joe looked over at Mike. "I don't think he wants it on the rocks."

Sam was irked again by the nickname, making Joe chuckle, but she poured the glass regardless.

"Ya know, I wish you wouldn't call me that anymore. I mean really, I just turn seventeen." The young woman slid the glass over to Mike, and resumed with her paperwork. Joe smiled as he sipped his beer again.

Dex came walking out with a large steaming bowl of freshly made Ramen. He handed it to Mike and asked Joe, "And what can I get for you, Boy-o?" Joe smiled at the nickname.

"I'll take some of that leftover beef stew you probably have in the back, Dex." Joe's face turned serious for a few moments. "And some answers, if you could help me out with that." Dex's face turned serious for a moment before he smiled again.

"Gotchya, Chief. I'll be out in a minute with that reheated." Joe smiled and nodded.

"Much obliged, Dex." Joe sipped at his beer again, and grabbed one of the bar peanuts.

"So, Mike," Joe looked over at his Swedish Ninja companion, an eyebrow raised. "How're the noodles?"

[God Mike]

Mike immediately downed the whiskey, feeling the burn in his throat, shooting a wink at the young girl in the process. "Thanks, love!" he said gratefully as he set the glass down, shuddering slightly. Then, it came.

Mike stared at the ramen bowl that had been set down in front of him. Fresh ramen. Not cup ramen... Reaching into the side pocket of his backpack, he took out his chopsticks and brought them up in front of him as he clapped his hands together.

"Itadakimasu," he whispered to himself, before trying some of the ramen. It was heaven. It was paradise... It was fucking ramen! Suppressing a squeal of delight, he dug in, greedily slurping up the noodles. He could eat a hundred bowls of this stuff, but he supposed one bowl would be enough for now.

By the time Joe asked, "How're the noodles?" Mike had already finished the noodles, and had grabbed the bowl, now gulping down the broth. Once he finished, he set the bowl down, clapped his hands together, and gave a quiet, "Thank you for the meal."

Mike stretched, a truly satisfied smile on his face. "That... was FUCKING DELICIOUS!" he exclaimed in pure joy. It had been so long since he ate ramen that didn't come in a cup! He had almost forgotten how good it tasted! He was barely resisting the urge to roll around on the floor in pure glee.

[Generalfoley]

Joe winced at the volume of Mike's voice, and smiled as Dex brought out the beef stew. He nodded to the older Irishman as he took a bite out of the stew, smiling a bit more as he tasted the vegetables. He saw Dex lean towards the two, a grin on his face.

"So, how can I help you two?" Joe sighed and finished off his beer. He placed the empty beer bottle down, which Sam had fast replaced it with another one, also refilling Mike's whiskey.

"It's another of Mozzie's leads." Dex sighed, and pulled up a chair, taking out a beer of his own.

"Well, what is it this time?"

"They were seen here around a week and a half ago." Dex nodded at that.

"Aye, I've heard rumors myself, but I'd have to scrounge up some details from around town." Dex sipped at his beer. Joe nodded.

"Aye, I guess that would be true. Maybe I should've called ahead of time, eh?" Dex chuckled into his beer. Joe looked over at Samantha, and remembered the thing he had in his pocket.

"Hey, Sam." The young woman looked over. Joe motioned her to come over.

"I almost forgot your belated birthday present." Sam's eyes shone with glee as she practically ran down the bar. Joe pulled out a wrapped rectangular object, and handed it to her.

"This was very, very hard to find. But I managed." Sam had started unwrapping it, and she saw a copy of Sun Tzu's 'Art of War'. Her eyes lit up and she hugged Joe, repeatedly saying 'thank you'. Joe smiled, but pounded on the bar when she just about snapped his neck.

"Have fun with it kiddo."

Dex smiled at his daughter's joy, then looked towards Mike.

"Would you like another bowl of Ramen, lad?"

[God Mike]

"Would you like another bowl of Ramen, lad?"

Mike looked up at the man called Dex as he sipped his whiskey, before shaking his head. "Ah, no thanks. This is probably the only place I could get non-packaged ramen, so I really shouldn't spoil myself. I'll stick to whiskey."

Then, Mike blinked, as he realized what Joe had talked about earlier with Dex. "Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah... woah, woah... woah... Hold it! You mean we're just gonna sit here and wait for information to come to us?" he asked strangely, taking another sip of his whiskey, clicking his tongue. "I don't like that plan. It's a horrible plan."

Setting his glass of whiskey down, he started playing with the buterfly knife, which had somehow managed to move from a passerby's pocket into his hand just a few seconds ago, through no fault of his own.

"You can't honestly expect me to just sit here, waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and... argh! The mere thought of it is driving me insane!" he complained, about to clutch his head in frustration, but luckily realized that he was holding the unfolded butterfly knife in his hand.

[Generalfoley]

"We're not going to wait." Joe said, taking another sip of his beer. He took another bite of his beef stew, which he realized that it was almost gone. Weird. He had been doing that more and more these days.

Joe slurped up the last of his stew, and sighed. He shook hands with Dex and walked over to Sam, who he gave a hug of goodbyes. He picked up his boonie hat and patted Mike on the shoulder.

"Come on. We gotta go to Old Chicago and pick up a few things." Joe looked over at Dex and Sam. "Be sure to radio me for anything you got. Remember, I'm never out of reach." Joe walked out of the pub, and slid on his goggles and hat.

He looked back at Mike. "Come on, mate. We gotta get moving. Radio services said a storms-a-comin'."

[God Mike]

"Come on. We gotta go to Old Chicago and pick up a few things." Mike nodded and downed the rest of his whiskey, before pocketing his brand new butterfly knife. "Come on, mate. We gotta get moving. Radio services said a storms-a-comin'."

"Yeah, yeah," Mike said as he got off his stool, stretching. Then, as he turned to leave, he bumped into the biggest fucking cowboy wannabe he'd ever seen! The dude was easily 6' 6", dressed in jeans, very delicious-looking snake-skin boots, a T-shirt, and a long leather duster. Of course, topping it off was a brown stetson. Oh, and the dude had knives strapped to every fuckin' inch of his body!

"You stole m'knife," the cowboy said, glaring down at Mike, the scar over his eye amplifying the mans intimidation factor. He looked... really pissed... Apparently knowing what Mike was gonna ask, he spoke again. "M'butterfly knife... I know y'stole it when I passed you..."

"I did no such thing!" Mike protested immediately. He never stole anything! The things jumped into his hand! He had no control over it whatsoever! It wasn't his fault, honest! "Though I did see a guy playing with one of those over there," Mike said, pointing behind the cowboy.

Thankfully, it was a dumb cowboy, and Mike took this moment to rear his fist back, and bring it up just as the man looked back at Mike again. Mike's uppercut connected with the man's chin, snapping his head back as his knees crumpled, and he dropped like a puppet.

As Mike stood victoriously over his downed opponent, he grinned widely. The grin, however, turned into a pained expression, and he clutched his hand. "Ow! What was that guy's jaw made of?! Bricks?! Shit!" That really, really, really, really hurt! He probably sprained his wrist from that blow.

[Generalfoley]

Joe looked back at the cowboy that Mike was talking to. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut, muttering, "Oh sweet Jesus." Then he heard a loud crack, and looked to see Mike standing triumphantly over his opponent... Only to have his face twist into pain as he grabbed his hand.

Joe's face cracked into a grin before he started laughing as hard as he could. He couldn't remember laughing this hard since, well... Vegas, when the two had first met. He'd been too serious these past few months. Especially with... Joe shook his head. He needed to loosen up.

He pulled Mike over and dragged him along to the old mechanic's shop. He patted the old man's back.

"Mac, how's she doin'?" Mac smiled a toothless smile, and his voice sounded like gibberish to someone who didn't know how to translate it.

"S'doin' good'nough, Chief. Gettin' outt'ere?" Joe smiled.

"Why yes Mac we are." Joe grabbed the keys and tossed them to Mike.

"Your turn."

[God Mike]

Mike felt Joe grab him and pull him out of the pub. Damn, his hand really hurt... Maybe he should've kicked, rather than punched that leather-wrapped pile of bricks? Scoffing, Mike rubbed his wrist. It was probably sprained. Not too badly, though.

Not even looking at Joe, he caught the keys that were chucked at him. Ever since that Red Zone incident, Joe didn't seem so adamant when it came to not letting Mike drive. "Your turn," Joe said, and Mike nodded as he got into the car.

"So, where are we supposed to start looking for these damsels in distress?" Mike asked as he started the car and backed out of the mechanic's shop, then drove off, heading down the street they'd been on on the way there.

Looking down at his bandaged hand, Mike blinked when he saw that the bandages on his right knuckles were getting soaked with blood. "Hm... Must've hit harder than I thought... But man, did you see that guy?" he asked, nudging Joe with his elbow. Then, he furrowed his brow and stuck out his lower jaw, taking on a look that reminded him a lot of a caveman. "Y'stole m'knife," he mimicked in a mock-gruff voice, before laughing.