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The Will to Live	By : commonerscrown Category: +G through L > G.I. Joe Views: 3089 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own G.I. Joe or any associated concepts, and I am making no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Will to Live
- 1
The scrubby desert landscape was a pitted, gutted wreck. Half a dozen HISS tanks lay, partially overturned and smouldering, in the shallow pits that had been created when they exploded. The wreckage of BATs was littered everywhere, disjointed bodies strewn around like militant mannequins and decapitated heads staring blankly up at the chill night sky. Dozens of fires, small and not so small, lent an almost infernal glow to the devastated site. Smoke streamed into the cold air.

The cause of all this destruction? Two G.I. Joes, one satchel of explosives, and ten minutes.

Scarlett took a deep breath as she rose from her crouch behind one of the ravaged tanks. When they had been sent scouting a day ahead of the Joe convoy, nobody had known of the small HISS ambush party waiting for them out in the desert. Instead of netting the Wolverine and its fleet of troop transports, though, the not-yet-prepared group had been ambushed itself. Just Scarlett and Snake-Eyes, dodging between the tanks and lobbing grenades into the still-open hatches of the tanks. The tanks had swiveled, the BATs trying to gun them down before more damage could be done, but the martial artists were too quick and the attack was too sudden. Then the first of the grenades (hastily duct-taped to small bricks of plastique) went off, a HISS tank was wrenched sideways as its cockpit tore in two in a fiery blaze, and Scarlett had hit the ground hard and covered her head as burning shrapnel fell from the sky like glowing rain.

It was one of the craziest things they had ever done. Nobody, not even in G.I. Joe, had ever taken down six HISS tanks with only two people. Scarlett's hands were trembling, just a little, as she straightened up and surveyed the devastated landscape; the sheer adrenaline and nerve it had taken to force her out into the middle of that, to fling pathetically tiny-looking bundles of explosives at tanks driven by ruthless robots and dodge as they poured all their effort into finding her and stamping her out . . . She took another breath, feeling a shiver run through her. Her hair was streaked with ash, and a blazing piece of shrapnel had cut right through her jacket and laid a long burn along her arm. The air was cold, but Scarlett was much too warm.

She heard a footstep near her and whirled instinctively, crossbow at the ready. A tall dark figure was emerging from behind the wreckage of another tank, his own sword and Uzi at the ready. The ruined HISS tank's gas tank had been opened by the explosion, and the wreck blazed in the cold desert night, sending waves of heat roiling out from it. Silhouetted against the flame, Snake-Eyes looked like something out of an apocalypse myth.

[You're hurt,] he signed as he reached her. One gloved hand carefully peeled away the ripped cloth and probed the edge of the burn. Scarlett let out a shuddery breath and he pulled back a little, contrite. [I'm sorry.]

“It's nothing,” she said. The burn wasn't bad; though it looked ugly, it had only touched the topmost layers of skin. To Scarlett, it felt almost as if one patch of her arm was burnt and frozen at the same time, and the edges of it prickled a little painfully when she moved. She knew that adrenaline and shock would be saving her from most of the pain now, and later, it would be worse. But for now . . .

“Snake,” she said softly, “we got them.”

We got them. The words gripped at something deep inside her. The heat of the fire at her front, the cold air of a desert night at her back, her heart pounding from adrenaline and fear and exultation, the pain of the burn making her aware of every little motion . . . And the man standing in front of her, his hand tightening on hers, the thunder of his pulse against her sweat-dampened skin. They were alive. They had won. They had charged in, flinging explosives and dodging gunfire, and there they stood as the only survivors in a devastated wasteland where half a dozen tanks and a squadron of robots hadn't been able to stop them.

And at that moment, she had never felt more alive.

“Snake,” she said. Her voice was husky. “Snake, look at me.”

He turned his head slowly. She could feel his pulse rise at the tone in her voice, and inwardly, she smiled.

“We won,” she whispered hoarsely. “We won. We destroyed them. Annihilated them.” Her own heart was racing, and a warmth was moving through her body that had nothing to do with the heat from the burning wreckage. The ninja was a shadowy figure, only his visor and the blade of his still-drawn sword reflecting the flicking orange light of the flames.

She'd warred. She'd won. She wanted.

Something flickered against her skin, and a shivery sensation ran up her injured arm, making her tremble all over. Looking down, she saw the black-gloved hand still resting against hers. Snake-Eyes ran a thumb over the pressure point there, and Scarlett shivered again. For a moment, the impassive black mask creased in a hint of a smile.

“You bastard,” she said softly. The smile grew wider, and Snake-Eyes raised his free hand, slowly untucking the edge of his mask. The black fabric slid away and scarred flesh appeared, the glow of the fires casting deep shadows into every ridge of whorled skin. Most days, his ruined face was a testament to his skill and determination, one more thing that had made Scarlett fall so deeply in love with him. But with the fire behind him now, Scarlett saw him as Cobra saw him, and it only made her heart beat faster.

He lowered his head, but not to reach her lips. Skilled fingers swiftly parted the torn folds of cloth again. His tongue flicked at the uppermost edge of the burn, sending shivers down Scarlett's arm. Pain and pleasure mingled, and Scarlett let out an involuntary moan, another shudder running through her. “Bastard,” she repeated, her voice ragged. His smile in the light of the fire was satanic. Two fingers spread the cloth folds, and as his tongue caressed the sensitive skin, Scarlett's moan turned into something almost like a whimper.

But Scarlett was rarely the passive type. She seized the ninja's head in both hands, pulling it roughly upwards and into a harsh, bruising kiss. Even as her fingers sank into his hair, his hands gripped her hips hard, dragging her forward until her body was flush against his and his stiffening cock was pressed against her taut stomach. Scarlett let out a low growl and turned the kiss into a bite, making Snake-Eyes hiss in return.

“You know me, Snake,” he whispered hoarsely. Her eyes were half-closed but her teeth were bared, and she ground out the words as if uttering a dire threat. “I don't give up easy.”

Then Snake-Eyes' leg hooked around hers, and Scarlett's world reeled as she was thrown to the ground. She landed easily, slamming her palms down on the ground beside her to break her fall as she had been taught, but that had been Snake-Eyes' plan: he dropped to his knees, straddling her, his hands pinning hers to the ground. Scarlett cursed and bucked wildly, trying to throw him off, but his grip was like a band of iron and she could do nothing but thrash against him. The slow smile grew wider, and Snake-Eyes lowered his head—not to her lips, but to the base of her neck, where her pulse fluttered wildly in the hollow of her throat.

Scarlett knew his game now. Even as the white teeth nipped at the pressure point there, forcing another moan from her, she knew what she had to do. She bucked harder, pressing her hips upwards and grinding against him until she thought he would lose control and tear her shirt off with his teeth. But no—not Snake-Eyes. Snake-Eyes liked to keep the illusion of complete control. As she arched her back, he shifted forward, thrusting down hard and settling himself on her chest to keep her pinned to the ground. His knees were pressed into her spread arms, keeping them motionless, as his hands went to the collar of her shirt.

That was his mistake. Scarlett braced her hands against the ground and, with a wrench of muscles, thrust her legs upwards. Her knees locked around Snake-Eyes' head, and with a feral grin, she pushed, sending the ninja tumbling backwards. In seconds, she had pounced. The predator had become the prey, and now she held Snake-Eyes pinioned.

“I'm going to make you suffer for that, Snake,” she whispered.

There was no secret which of them was the better fighter, and Scarlett had no intention of shifting and giving up her advantage, Instead, she lowered her head to his chest, probing for the hidden zipper that ran underneath one of the many bandoliers. Finding it, she took it between her teeth and arched her back again, crouched like a jungle cat as she dragged it slowly downwards. Snake-Eyes shuddered as the cold desert air struck the sheen of sweat on his skin, and the redhead almost purred. One nip, at the most sensitive part on the very edge of an old knife wound, turned into a bite that made the ninja let out a silent gasp.

She felt the muscles of his arms tensing under her grip a second too late. With one violent thrust, Snake-Eyes exploded upwards from the ground, his hands gripping her wrists and wrenching them until she almost cried out. One arm locked both of hers behind her back, and knives thudded to the ground as Snake-Eyes ripped a strap free from his bandoliers. Scarlett fought, but her strength wasn't a match for his, and in a moment her hands were bound behind her back.

The panting ninja examined his prize, blue eyes gleaming in the light of the fire.

[Better,] he signed. Scarlett darted towards him, one leg already raising in a powerful roundhouse kick, but Snake-Eyes caught the leg and dragged her towards him. He seized her under the buttocks and pulled her up against him, grinding himself against her. Scarlett's planned insult was cut off in a gasp as she felt the hardness thrust against her center, making her groan. The warmth deep in her body was growing quickly into an unbearable ache, a throbbing pulse that demanded something more.

“Snake,” she moaned. “Please-”

[Not yet.] With a grin, the ninja picked her up, slinging her over his shoulders with a serpentine grace. [I haven't even begun yet, Shana.]

One of the HISS tanks was still mostly intact, caught only by a glancing blow that had plowed it into a shallow crater. Snake-Eyes leaped easily onto the top of the tank and ripped the hatch open, knocking away the shattered remains of one of the BATs that had tried to defend it. Inside the broad cabin of the tank, two chairs faced a sloping metal console now littered with rubble and shards of broken metal. The ninja cleaned the console with one quick swipe of his arm before setting Scarlett down facing him, half-seated on the control panel.

The fires outside were beginning to die, and the cockpit of the tank was in deep shadow. With the viewports at her back, what little light there was flooded past Scarlett and onto Snake-Eyes, picking out the paleness of his skin and hair and casting the rest of him into darkness. One long strip of skin gleamed with sweat where the commando suit gaped open, and Scarlett leaned forward, pressing a hungry kiss to the broad flat plane of his stomach. Snake-Eyes shuddered a little and took her head in his hands, running gloved fingers through her long red hair.

For a moment, they stood there, still as statues in the flickering light of the dying fires. The grin had vanished from Snake-Eyes' face, and he cradled her chin in his hands carefully, almost as if he were afraid she would break. The overgrown blond hair had tumbled down over his face, hiding the piercing blue gaze, and for a moment Scarlett ached in a way that had nothing to do with physical need.

This was the real Snake-Eyes. A man—nothing more, nothing less—who was frighteningly strong and skilled, but life had balanced the scale and struck him back down with the curse of a scarred, mutilated face. His hands trembled, just a little, as he traced a line down her neck and over her shoulders. He drank her in, memorizing her.

Now she smiled. One twist easily freed her arms from the binding strap, and she caught his hands in hers. Her skin looked so pale, almost ghostly, entwined with the black-gloved fingers that melded so easily into the darkness.

I love you, he mouthed, and Scarlett tenderly brushed a kiss over the knuckles of his right hand.

“I love you too, Snake. I always have.”

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, there was a hard spark in them. Now wasn't the time for soft words; she hadn't yet been satisfied, and she intended to make Snake-Eyes pay for the delay. Taking the edge of the glove in her teeth, she peeled it away, nipping at the callused fingers and pressing demanding, insistent kisses to the sensitive skin at the most sensitive parts. The ninja's eyes widened as she took his index finger into her mouth, trailing velvety lips over the skin and flicking a nub of nerves with her tongue in a way that drew a silent groan from her lover.

“We got them,” she repeated, pressing a final kiss to the tip of the finger. “We won. We beat them. We-” another nip, just hard enough to leave a mark “-destroyed them.”

She lowered her head to bite again, but before she could do it, she found her wrists clamped in an iron grip again. Her head was thrust back, and she stared up into a pair of burning, ice-blue eyes. His lips formed one word.

Mine.

With one wrench, she was spun around and thrown off her feet. The edge of the HISS console dug into her stomach as the ninja thrust her down onto it. Scarlett had a split-second of panic—she had been thrown by enemies like this before, and remembered the feeling of steel digging into her stomach with no particular love—but though the metal surface cold and hard underneath her, there was a warmth at her back. Snake-Eyes grabbed the discarded strap and pinioned her wrists again, straddling her and lashing her wrists to one of the control levers.

With Scarlett immobilized, the ninja set about enjoying his prize. Scarlett let out a gasp as she felt his hands—still in their gloves, the touch of the friction pads sending shivers down her spine—glide across the curve of her spine, stroking over the sweat-dampened skin. Slim, probing fingers quickly peeled away her interfering clothes. She could hear his breathing, rough and ragged, hot on her back. An involuntary whimper escaped from her as his fingers traced across her wet slit.

“Snake,” she said hoarsely, but the ninja put his free hand on her back. Not yet, he signed into the skin. She took a deep breath.

Snake-Eyes had been through wars. He had met and murdered more people than she knew the names of, and he had survived things that would turn other men into screaming wrecks. It had been a near thing. He needed control, sometimes—to know that the world wasn't beyond him, that he could maintain a grip and be more than a bad luck charm. And here, now, in the tank that they had captured and amidst the destruction of the battle they had won, with fear and lust riding high, Scarlett willingly gave it to him. She let out another whimper, and felt the tremors of the ninja's silent laugh.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the skilled fingers caressed her. Scarlett moaned, low and impatient, as a shuddering warmth ran through her. The ache was building to an unbearable point, and still, Snake-Eyes kept teasing her. Growling almost desperately, she thrust herself back against him, pressing her taut rear against him. She could feel his cock through the fabric of his clothes, hot and hard and throbbing with his own barely-restrained need, and grinned to herself. She rolled her hips, massaging him with smooth motions and drinking in the sound of his panting breaths.

With a harsh thrust, the ninja flattened her against the console again and sank two fingers into her. Scarlett's planned retort was lost in a gasp of mixed pain and pleasure as she rocked forward, her muscles tightening instinctively at the abrupt intrusion. The breath of another laugh ghosted across her back as Snake-Eyes twisted his fingers, stroking deeper and making Scarlett shudder. One fingertip brushed the perfect spot, deep in her core, and Scarlett lost her breath. The heat was building unbearably—so close, the plunging fingers caressing and teasing her and making her beg for more in words that were barely words at all--

Then the sensation was gone, and Scarlett slumped against the console, almost mewling in frustration as Snake-Eyes snatched her satisfaction away from her. “Sadistic—-son of a—-bitch,” she muttered. Her skin was slick with sweat. So close to release, and then . . . She did mewl this time, feeling the pulsating ache deep in her core. Damn him. Damn him. He was laughing again.

That wouldn't do. Gathering every ounce of her little remaining self control, she arched her back again, turning her head and meeting his piercing blue stare over her shoulder. Her sweat-dampened red hair tumbled over her forehead. “Well,” she panted, “if you're not going to fuck me like a man, Snake . . .”

There was a flash of teeth from the shadowed face, and her world reeled as she was wrenched upright again, the binding strap tearing clean in half. Any further words were ripped away from her as she was crushed to him, her thighs parting almost unconsciously to wrap around the ninja's hips. His hands sank into her hair as he kissed her, hard and hungry, half kiss and half attack and all claiming of his own most prized possession. Scarlett's breath fled, and with one last fleeting thought, she surrendered.

Her fingers fumbled with the zipper of the skinsuit and, weapons clattering to the floor, she freed him from the encumbering fabric. He trailed kisses down her jawline, nipping and suckling at the skin almost desperately as she worked. Scars stood out ghostly white against his skin in the flickering half-light, and Scarlett reveled in the feel of them, shuddering as hard muscle and ridged scarring rasped against her sensitive skin. She tightened her legs, pressing the ninja against her, clutching at him, needing to feel every inch of him against her. Inside her.

There were no more words now. One final belt dropped away, throwing spikes slipping free of their pouch and clattering to the floor, and there was nothing left between her and the man who held her. His rough lips were pressed into the hollow of her neck, mouthing silent words, making her shudder and whimper.

With one swift thrust, he slammed into her, and Scarlett let out a wordless cry. Her back arched as he plunged deep, sending a shock through her, and her head flung back as he sank his strong white teeth into her shoulder. Her fingernails raked across his back as she clutched at him, her hips rocking, urging a deeper connection.

They had won. They had won. They were alive, so alive, their breath mingling and their bodies locked together, feeling the heat and slick skin and feeling the pounding of the other's heart alongside their own. This was their triumph, their conquest. Snake-Eyes withdrew and thrust again, harder and swifter than before, tearing a scream from Scarlett and drawing blood where her nails sank into him with a strength born of desperate need. And again, setting a hard and frantic pace, her back pressed against the console and the ninja's weight pinning her against the cold metal, her whole body throbbing with the inevitably building sensations that ripped another scream from deep within her.

He seized her hips, his hands digging into the flesh there, as his hard length struck the deepest point of her core. Scarlett's muscles rippled, shuddering, and she felt herself tumble over into the edge. Waves of sensation overwhelmed her, a blazing heat flooding her body. As she bucked, the ninja let out a wordless cry and stiffened, his own muscles clenching as he lost his final shreds of control.

Snake-Eyes came hard, his back arched, his teeth bared in a silent snarl like a animal. Scarlett screamed his name, the words a desperate cry of her own, as he released deep within her. Alive, so alive, the heat and the pounding sensation of their linked bodies, his fingers digging into her skin and her thighs clutching him to her, alive.

Gasping, the ninja collapsed onto her. His sweaty hair brushed her forehead as he panted, and his eyes were closed as he struggled to breathe again. They remained there for a long moment, still connected, Scarlett drinking in his breaths even as she fought for her own. Her hands brushed across his jawline, cradling his face against hers.

The snarl was gone. The anger was gone. Slowly, the two bodies separated, both still panting with the efforts of their exertions as they lay draped over the console of the tank. Weapons were scattered everywhere.

Warped eyelids flickered, and that heart-stopping blue gaze once again met Scarlett's. Slowly, he lowered his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the angry red mark he had left on her shoulder.

“Snake, I . . .” Scarlett began. There was blood under her fingernails. “Snake, I hurt you.”

A small smile quirked the twisted lips. Never, he mouthed, dropping another kiss on the bite. Thank you. Thank you for letting me . . . He couldn't seem to find the words, and now it was Scarlett who smiled.

He was a ninja master, a battle-hardened soldier and a frighteningly-skilled assassin. She had known, the first day when she met him on the mats of the G.I. Joe dojo, that she would never be able to beat him in a fight. Yet that would never stop Scarlett trying; she was a fighter through and through, and lived for the sheer exultation of slamming a defeated opponent to the ground.

There was only one circumstance under which she would willingly give in.
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The Will to Live