Eric swung his leg over the bench, took a seat across from Jason on the picnic style table in the cafeteria, slapped a very thin manila folder in front of his team's Master Chief.

Jason flicked a glance at it, stabbed a meatball, reached for his water. He knew what it contained, a single sheet of paper, knew what it meant. "Who didn't pass what test?"

"Physical."

"Sonny?" Jason guessed. Uninterested, he shook parmesan cheese over his spaghetti. "How much weight he have to lose this time?" He picked up his glass of water, took a drink.

"Spenser."

Jason choked, spit water, thumped his chest with a fist to swallow rather than spit, Eric waited patiently.

"Say what?" He managed, teary-eyed from his recent choking fit. "No way." Could never eat a meal in peace in a mess tent. Why did he even try? "Clay? Carry a few extra pounds?" He snorted. "Pfft."

Eric tapped the file with a finger. "He's 12 pounds under acceptable minimum weight by Navy standards."

Jason went weak with relief. No big deal. Kid worked out too much, trained too hard, ran too far too often. Easily remedied.

"So, two pounds?" Because he knew Doc wouldn't fuss if it had been under ten. "He grounded?"

"He's been ordered home." Eric stated, braced for hurricane Hayes.

Jason merely raised an eyebrow. Nothing surprised him about Clay anymore. "Sending him back with Charlie?" Bravo had landed that morning to relieve Charlie, who was due to fly home tomorrow while Bravo completed a mission here, before flying out to Malaysia. He wasn't happy about the diversion either.

Eric chewed his lip, combed his beard, a bit thrown Jason was so calm, sighed. "Doc will go with him."

Jason nodded. "Roger that."

Eric couldn't hide his surprise, didn't really try. Jason grinned. Yeah, he bet his Commander expected him to throw a fit.

Jason offered Eric his garlic knot. "Charlie's been on ground for a month, all we have is an over-night hike to escort a rogue assets family out of their village, violence not expected." He scowled. "Still don't know why Charlie couldn't stay until the west coast team arrives, why we had to divert here, but whatever." Now he paused, frowned. "We're in Malaysia for however long while yet another team finishes here." He needed to worry about and focus on what he had control of, not what he didn't. "We gonna get him back? He gonna join us?"

Eric took the bread, put his hands up in defeat. "Doc called a nutritionist, they'll come up with a diet plan, help him gain weight."

Now Jason scowled, puffed up. His men were no mamby-pamby wusses. They didn't require help….

"Healthily." Eric added before Jason could go off.

"He's in top shape Blackburn." Jason pointed out with a childish pout. "Why make him go home?"

"Muscle mass?" Now Eric scoffed. "Navy has rules for a reason Jason. I blew smoke up asses to bring him with us, not going to work a second time." He glared pointedly. "Doc had to follow the rules, Clay suffered an injury and as a result, he's underweight, yeah, he's side-lined."

Jason stabbed another meat ball. "Bah," he waved his speared meatball around. "Twelve pounds. Protein shakes, he'll be fine." He glowered. "And it wasn't an injury, someone hurt him and it's not why he's 12 pounds underweight. He trains too hard."

"Jason!" Eric warned sternly. "Doc says soon as he gains half the weight, he can join you." He sighed in defeat. "Won't be hard for him to do in two weeks. Shoulder should be better by then as well." He reached for a cup of marinara sauce. "Deal?"

Jason nodded. "Deal."

But he didn't like it.

***000***

Jason, in search of his entire missing team, finally zeroed in on their location by following the yelling, cursing, barking. He had left the gym, showered and was ready to go to bed, skype with the kids, but when he'd popped his head into their quarters, he'd been surprised to find no one. Not Even Ray. He'd searched their barracks; rec room, gym, pool, showers, basketball court - no one.

He finally tracked them down in the ammo/supply shack, stood in the doorway, stared in amazement, confusion, amusement, a bit of anger.

Sonny was complaining – nothing new.
Trent was arguing – not normal.
Brock was packing or unpacking, Jason couldn't tell – odd.
Ray was trying to; talk Sonny down, get between Trent and whosever face he was in, stop Brock from packing or unpacking, shush the dog - normal.
Clay sat on a table, swinging his legs as he observed, munching an apple - huh.

Jason opened his mouth to whistle, ducked when a packet of something came flying…didn't move fast enough, bent over to pick it up from where it landed after striking his forehead.

Clay smirked, waved, took another bite of apple.

The hell?

Jason fumed, fingered the pocket-packet, straightened up….oh…Ooooh….oh. Oh-oh. Aleve.

"…..the hell….? Don't even….Not taking that!" Sonny was yakking, hands waving at the pallets of bottled Gatorade. Jason stole a peek….oh, not good….every bottle he could see through the packaging was red.

Clay smirked, he liked red Gatorade, it was his favorite and he had no problems drinking it. Yeah, yeah, a time or two, he'd managed to upchuck after drinking it, once all over Sonny, but he'd either been sick or hurt. Hey, here's a thought, don't hang me upside down.

"…..you don't pack what you think I need. I don't care what is required or allowed, all you need to do is pack what I request." Trent was throwing things out of a bag willy-nilly…left, right, forward, sideways, over his shoulder.

Clay took another bite of apple. Well, Trent had a point, Clay couldn't take Naproxen without suffering cramps in his calves. And wasn't that just a topic for teasing him!

"….this is….this isn't…..is this Alpo?" Brock was horrified. "Who feeds their dog Alpo these days?"

"…we don't use 10 round clips. What is that? That isn't the ammo I ordered." Sonny lunged towards another stacked pallet. "The hell is this?"

"….I don't care what is and isn't an approved, authorized item. My list was signed off by a doctor. I expect everything on it to be HERE!"

Clay rolled his eyes. Geesch. Once – ONCE – he'd made a comment while drugged up in a hospital about a thermometer!

"…..no boots, no goggles, no ear protection…..what? Four legs don't deserve comfort?"

"What the hell are these? I can't wear this brand! Do you see where the eyelets are? These are cheap knockoffs. I don't want these!"

A young man in camo's stood stoically with a clipboard. "Supplies aren't easily obtained here."

"Davis never has a problem."

"You have three days dipshit."

"Wait, Davis isn't going to Malaysia? Is that what you said? We have him?"

The arguing went on, Jason remained unnoticed. He crossed his arms over his chest and rested a shoulder against the door frame, waiting to see how long it would take Ray to gain control.

"What the fuck?" Jason finally asked Clay. "Put peanut butter on that."

"Meet Stewie." Clay grinned.

"Uh," Jason paused as Ray attempted to talk Sonny out of wringing Stewie's neck by explaining the boots didn't matter because they weren't climbing Mt. Everest. "What's'a Stewie?"

Aah, so they were packing for Malaysia. Davis had ordered their supplies and overseen the loading of the plane to fly to this island somewhere in the India ocean, but she was returning to the states with Clay and Doc...so...this must be her replacement.

Clay chucked his apple core into a trash can across the room, pushed off the table with his right palm, left arm in a sling, easily landed on his feet.

"Stewie's packing the gear for the trip to Malaysia." Clay informed his boss. "Cause Davis isn't going with you."

"Neither are you." Jason stated. So what did it matter what color Gatorade they took? Or what pain reliever was packed? "You're shipping stateside."

"Gonna be a shit-show, we ever lose Davis." Clay clapped Jason on the shoulder, walked past him. "I'll see you off in the morning, join you in two weeks."

"Eggs and yogurt for breakfast. No fat-free shit either!" Jason called after him. "Only a three-mile run, you hear? I find out you ran five, I'll kick your ass!"

"Jay!" Ray exclaimed. "Little help here."

"Boss!"

"Jason!"

"Davis is going stateside with Clay? That's what I heard. That right?"

"This…this….he….him…"

Jason sighed, moved on into the room, calling home would be delayed a bit longer.

***the next morning***

"Commander Blackburn."

Enjoying a fruit cup of berries and cut melons, Eric didn't look up. He'd been pulled into a meeting once the west coast team – before breakfast, mind you – had arrived and he was still steamed about both the time of the meeting and the reason for it. He wasn't about to give an inch.

"Where's your team?"

Eric flipped a page, started reading, made notes in the margin of the report that had his attention, didn't look up. These two knew exactly where Bravo was – up and out before dawn running, what in his and Jason's opinions, a useless mission.

The two men from the west coast team known as Five exchanged a glance, then simply sat down. They weren't about to be ignored simply because they were addressing Bravo's Lieutenant Commander Eric Blackburn.

"What the hell is that?"

Eric raised an eyebrow, still didn't look up, munched on a strawberry. "Out east, we call it a dog."

Oh, right, yeah, Bravo team had a dog they claimed as a teammate. Pathetic.

"Military canine. In the mess tent?"

Cerberus raised his head, yawned, licked his chops, glared.

"It has an attitude."

"Not your business." Eric murmured. Apparently, a show of indifference wasn't going to make these two assholes go away.

"Not very friendly, is it?"

"Takes after its team."

Eric ignored them.

A throat was cleared. "I'm Chief Rally, this is Senior Chief Williams."

"Go away." He gave Cerberus a small bit of cheese. "You're not going to get what you're looking for."

"That should be…..didn't your Commander tell you…we're here to discuss our mission."

"There's nothing to discuss." Eric put his pencil down, scratched Cerb's ears. "Your request for Spenser was denied. Move on."

"Who denied it?" Rally asked after a moment. He knew the outcome of the meeting, he'd been in it, but he had asked for a higher command to review his request. If the denial had come down, it had gone to Five's Lt. Commander who hadn't yet notified Rally.

"I did."

Rally and Williams exchanged a look, remained seated. They hadn't been aware Blackburn had the authority to make the decision to refuse the request.

"Who did you notify?" Rally asked.

It was obvious the men weren't going to leave so Eric gathered his papers, put them in the file.

"Bravo's out in the field, Spenser is here…" Rally ignored Eric's snide 'how'd you know that' comment. "on base…..it is alleged, rumored, that his language skills….."

For the love of all that was good, he was not doing this again. Confident that McCall had his back, Eric gathered his bowl of fruit, glass of milk, file folder and phone, stood up, cut Rally off.

"I'm not doing this again. I'm done going through this with everyone who thinks they can snap their fingers, demand Spenser and expect to get him. One more time….Spenser is not for hire or rent, we don't 'loan' him out." He scowled. "No other team has to go through this shit." He gave Cerberus a pet, the dog stood, stretched, bared his teeth at Rally. "There is nothing you or your boss or anyone higher can say or do that will make me give him to you or anyone else."

"That's not your decision to make."

A lip curled. "Yes, yes it is."

"He's not injured all that badly, is he? Sore shoulder from a training mishap?"

Clay had wrenched his shoulder the day before they'd flown out during a training exercise with Delta when that team had 'not deliberately' dropped the kid from the scaling wall on the obstacle course. The irony? The competition was to help build trust between the teams.

Oh yeah, that had worked well. Yeah, sure upper brass, ground the kid now from active duty due to being less than acceptable weight, but make him run an obstacle course with a team known not to get along with Bravo. Thumbs up, D.C. assholes, way to go! Woot!

Eric had been forced down to the course with Delta's Lt. Commander and other personnel to break up the fist fight that had erupted. Because, oh, rest assured, Bravo had been right there, hadn't let Spenser out of their sight. Though, fat lot of good it had done.

Clay's arm was in a sling, would be for another week – Trent had talked about stretched muscles or tendons or ligaments, hell, something Eric hadn't paid much attention to – and he was on ibuprofen, ice and rest. But Clay had wanted to come and Bravo had wanted to bring him, so magic-wand-waving Eric obtained medical clearance from Navy docs for Clay to fly out on Bravo's mission as long as he remained in command with Blackburn. His ease and skill with languages and his tactical mind were welcome and useful and to remain home due to a mere shoulder strain, seemed ridiculous.

Oh, the shit he put up with and went through for Hayes and his team.

But then came the failed physical. That, on top of the minor injury had resulted in his medical clearance being revoked and orders to return home to seek 'proper medical care'. Pffft. Like, physicals here, on an Army base, had to be done right now.

This morning, after Bravo had left for their mission, Clay had come down with a fever – which, had Doc not been there, Eric might have doubted – and Eric hadn't been able to make himself force Clay onto the plane that was flying Charlie home, which meant Doc and Davis hadn't gone either.

So, how the hell did Rally know Clay had hurt his shoulder? How did he know Clay was still on base? How the hell did he know Clay hadn't left with Charlie? Did he know Clay was supposed to? And did he know the reason why Clay hadn't? Did he know about the flunked physical? Eric didn't think so, because Rally had yet to bring any of it up.

"Cleared for light duty, right? You brought him with you, he's here, so, yeah, he is." Rally continued when Eric didn't give him an answer. "All we want him to do is translate for us."

"No." Because there was no 'just' when Clay Spenser was involved.

"He's not cleared to fly to Malaysia," Rally continued. "But he can remain here with us, run ops from command, like he's doing now."

Eric walked away, Cerberus on his heels. When he found out – and he would – how the west coast team knew who Spenser was, that he hadn't accompanied Bravo, hadn't left with Charlie and was on base with Eric, heads were gonna roll and asses were gonna be transferred.

How the hell did Rally know Clay wasn't cleared to fly to Malaysia? And why didn't he know Clay had been ordered home? Huh. His first thought was the new guy, Stewie, but no, couldn't be him running his mouth...he didn't even know half what Rally did.

There was more to this than just 'borrowing' Clay for translating duties and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

Rally thought about following, but when he and Williams had attempted to enter Bravo's barracks earlier, they'd found the entire area that housed Bravo fenced off and no one, not even with clearances and security passes, was granted admittance without the 'proper credentials' – which evidently, they lacked.

"What do you think? Go over Blackburn's head?" Williams asked.

"Tried that." Rally sighed. "McCall shot us down."

"Then Harrington?"

"Working on it."

Rally had never met anyone on Bravo before, but their reputation was well known, even by the west coast platoons. The entire damn team was elusive, preferred the company of each other, remained secluded, had the best success rate and completed missions record of any Navy SEAL team – ever.

Rally's team would take over corralling the asset, who hopefully responded to the threat his family was held under 'American arrest" – should Bravo manage to accomplish their mission – and came in. In fact, they'd landed and learned they could stalk and potentially grab a known associate of the asset while Bravo was out bringing in the man's family and their job would be so much easier if they could have Spenser accompany them.

Rally didn't trust local interpreters.

This was the first time Rally had been able to approach Blackburn. No matter what he had tried, he hadn't been able to gain access to the secured, secluded area on the base that housed Bravo and talk to Spenser. The MP's stationed at the gate turned him away every time. While his security clearance was acknowledged and accepted, when he couldn't produce the 'proper credentials' needed to get beyond the gate, he'd politely but firmly, been denied entrance. Not even his Lieutenant Commander had been able to gain them entrance despite how many phone calls he made.

Rally and his men didn't have private quarters and they wouldn't inhabit those that Bravo currently occupied when the east coast team left. And he'd found out when his team had landed, that Bravo traveled with a full 15-member support team, doctor, their lieutenant commander and most times, his immediate superior. That all just made his blood boil.

So, he'd set his men on finding gossip and rumors.

Bravo stuck together.
They retrieved their own.
They preferred to work alone, relied on few outsiders, depended on their support team as often as possible for back-up, exfil, clean-up. Hell, even QRF.
Their support team came complete with; pilot, co-pilot, driver, mechanic, medic, gunner; ammunition and explosives experts and a technology guru.
Bravo mingled with other soldiers and military personnel on the base, but no one really knew anything about them.
Bravo had free run of the base, access to transportation and did whatever they wanted to. Such as bring a dog to the mess tent.
Bravo was spotted on the shooting range, in the gym, at the pool, in the rec center, at the bar. Would play sports.
Bravo was not confined to quarters, barracks or base.
They requested private quarters.
They rejected admittance to their domain.
Yes, their support team, their commander and assorted personnel had quarters within the secured area.
Bravo didn't play well with others,
Hayes was protective and defensive of his entire team, mess with one of them, he'd come after you, your career was over.

And that annoyed Rally. Hell, it pissed him off. And to top it off, he was denied not only access to Spenser, but permission for him to accompany them on their seek and detain mission as well. Hell, it wasn't like he was asking to take the sniper into combat!

They weren't hiking into the hills or repelling out of choppers or scaling mountains, for Christ sake. They were going to a village to find and talk to one man. They'd be back before Bravo returned. Rally wanted his language skills, could care less about his alleged shooting precision. He didn't expect resistance, let alone violence.

"Top-rated SEAL team the Navy has and they're a bunch of dicks." Williams commented. "Let's go meet this interpreter."

Rally was quiet, he didn't trust local interpreters who were found on the street and paid for their services. He wanted Spenser, and now, he intended to obtain him just to piss off Blackburn. The man with his oh-so-cock-sure-swagger and attitude was convinced the matter was over. Well, he'd just see about that. Five also had a Lieutenant Commander and a Commander and while neither man was with Five, modern technology would put them all in the same room together.

He called his Commander, requested – demanded – a meeting with Spenser, Blackburn and McCall. He got his meeting, but it didn't go as he expected. Spenser didn't even attend.

Their renewed request for Spenser was flatly and promptly denied. Their stated reasons and explanation, while acknowledged, did not sway anyone's opinion and within five minutes, the meeting was over.

McCall had sat doodling while Blackburn held the meeting and shot down every reason why Five should be allowed to acquire the services of Bravo's linguistic sniper.

"So, tell me Blackburn." McCall finally looked up, clicked his pen. "They state a very valid reason to take Spenser with them, if they had the time and pushed this up the chain, they'd get him."

"They'd get approval." Blackburn corrected. "But when it came time to leave, Spenser wouldn't be around. Or found. Or located."

"So, this is about Hayes having a pissing match."

"It's about anyone and everyone who thinks just because they want and request Spenser, they should get him." Blackburn shot back. "That expectation is bullshit and I'm done with it." He paused, added. "Sir," but McCall waved him on. "Spenser isn't even supposed to be here. We had orders to put him on the plane and return him to Virginia. Bravo doesn't even know I didn't do that, how the hell does Five?"

"And you're against it because?" McCall ignored that last question because he didn't have an answer, but dammit, he would find out. "You can over-ride Hayes any time, for any reason, about any issue."

Because Jason would throw a fucking fit and he trusts me to abide by his wishes – whether I agree or not – when it comes to 'loaning' out Bravo's youngest. Because Jason left the kid with me and I'm not going to let him down.

"Sir, Bravo is the top-rated SEAL team for a reason. Leadership, loyalty, respect, commitment, it's what makes them so damn good." He paused for effect. "They back up one another and you know there is no force or authority on this earth that will prevent them from going after one of their own when they, uh, misplace him."

"Is that what we're calling it?" McCall cracked a rare grin, rose to his feet. Oh, Blackburn might not name names, but McCall had not problems doing so. "Spenser plays no part in that, eh?"

Bravo had gone rogue more than once to retrieve their rookie. Oh yes, Spenser was often the reason Bravo misplaced him, but not always. Sometimes, stupid shit just happened or the kid was in the wrong place at the wrong time or attracted the notice of someone while doing nothing more than enjoying a drink.

McCall finished his coffee, hid his smile, set the empty cup on the table. This team was making his career. Bravo's mission, their focus, their job, their country came first, but once that was over…..there was no stopping their dedication when it came time to find whoever had been lost. And nine and half times out of ten, that lost team member was Clay Spenser.

McCall prayed nightly that there was never a time when they were forced to choose….it would tear them apart emotionally and mentally, leave them fragmented. So far, they'd been lucky – haha, yeah, lucky – in that they'd always been able to successfully finish their job, complete their mission and then successfully find their missing team member, whoever he may be.

And thank you Lord – yes, another prayer – the times that Spenser was lost, misplaced or missing were becoming less frequent and he was more easily and quickly found. Modern tracking abilities truly were great.

Blackburn ducked his head with a rueful grin. "True, he does have a strong tendency to disobey orders and take matters into his own hands, but sir, there are other times, he's just standing there, we blink and he's gone."

Had that come from Hayes or Quinn, McCall would doubt the sincerity in those words, but Blackburn?

"Unlike you, I don't know these men on a personal level, sometimes, I don't believe you should either, but somehow, someway, for some reason, it works." He stood. "I will shoot down any further requests or inquisitions that might come from above regarding Spenser."

"Thank you, sir."