Author's Note: Warning: This fic contains ridiculous amounts of fluff. Read at your own risk ;) Also, some may consider Maine to be OOC, which is true, but this is my headcannon of him. Anywho, I hope you enjoy! Reviews are the stuff that make up rainbows and unicorns and glitter and puppies.

Disclaimer: Although it would be awesome, I do not own any of these characters, nor do I make a profit from this work.

Agent Maine was bored.

Granted, he had reason to be. For some unknown reason, he didn't have any training sessions scheduled today. He had dragged himself out of his standard issue not-comfy-but-comfy-when-you're-exhausted bed at the designated 6AM like he did every other day. He checked his updated schedule only to find out he was free for the entire day. This was unheard of, and more than a little strange.

He figured that was why he was so bored – lately he'd been so consumed by training that he had practically forgotten there was more to life than working out and perfecting his skills. Maybe he really did need a break after all. He blamed Sigma for his increased interest in training. When Sigma had too much time on his hands (which was annoyingly often) he tended to mess with Maine's head for the fun of it. Maine did not approve.

So the large freelancer found himself strolling down the halls of the Mother Of Invention towards the rec room, hoping to find something or someone there to keep himself occupied. He had decided to wear his civilian clothes instead of his armour for a change. However, that didn't stop the ship's crew from cowering from him as he passed by. Despite his lack of armour, Maine was still an impressive 6'7" wall of muscle and sheer intimidation. It was hard enough to convince people he was just a regular guy (albeit an abnormally tall and muscled one) rather than some giant gorilla with a pea size brain that most believed him to be. Especially after the accident, the collection of scar tissue that consumed his throat and the resulting growls and hisses he could only speak in now just made it worse. His injury did not help the "I won't eat you I promise" look he was going for.

Maine sighed. He knew it didn't matter what the ship's crew thought of him. He was here because, like his father before him, he signed up for the military to defend against the Insurrectionists and the covenant... and just so happened to be good enough to get into the prestigious Project Freelancer. That was a bonus.

The Project had been going on for a little over a year now. He was pleased that some of the other agents in the program did not judge him by his deceiving appearance, like Wash and York. Especially Wash, since he was his roommate and he could for some reason understand Maine's growled attempts at communication. It made the harsh training, the dangerous missions and the annoying AIs a whole lot easier to deal with.

A loud snicker brought Maine out of his reverie and back into the present. It was then he realized he had been walking in the opposite direction of the rec room.

Damn it, Sigma! I know that was you, Maine growled.

Maine heard an amused chuckle come from the back of his mind. Maine grunted in frustration and had turned to try his second attempt at reaching the rec room (without any detours this time) when he heard more barely contained laughter. Intrigued, Maine abandoned the rec room escapade and followed the sounds coming from down the hall.

He came upon the men's locker room, where he found York - also in civvies - crouched at the entrance to all the shower stalls. He had both hands badly concealing the almost hysteric giggles coming from his mouth. Maine growled quietly to get York's attention in order to inquire just what the hell he was doing.

York jumped half a foot in the air at the sound of Maine's questioning growl.

"Jesus, man! You scared the crap out of me. Damn, for a big dude, you are one quiet son of a bitch," York whispered, placing a hand on his chest to calm his rapidly beating heart.

Maine just stared down at him and arched an eyebrow. If Maine found a fully grown man crouched down near the men's shower stalls while giggling like a school girl a little odd, he did not say it. Well, he couldn't say it if he wanted to, but that's not the point.

York gave the large freelancer a crooked grin and gestured towards the shower stalls. "Listen for yourself, man!"

Maine felt Sigma perk up in his mind. Naturally, he was curious too. At first, all Maine heard was the sound of running water. He was about to report this observation to York when suddenly, there was a noise that sounded like various farm animals being put through a wood chipper.

As York howled in laughter again, Sigma flashed into appearance beside Maine's head. Sigma, whose purpose was to act as Maine's voice, asked what they were both wondering. "Agent York, what exactly is that awful racket?"

York forcefully calmed down enough to choke out: "It's Wash singing!" before he dissolved back into uncontrollable giggles.

Maine was dumbfounded. That wasn't the sound of someone singing. Hell, before he lost his ability to speak he was actually had a pretty good voice if he did say so himself. Based on that, he deduced what he heard was not singing. It was no doubt the massacre of innocent animals inside the shower stalls of the Mother Of Invention. That was the only logical explanation.

Even Sigma, who Maine could normally never shut up, was quiet. Maine idly wondered - if that really was Wash singing in there - how Wash could not possibly hear York's loud laughter.

I am… unsure of how to react to this, Sigma finally admitted.

Now it was Maine's turn to chuckle. I'm shocked, Sig.

Maine saw Sigma scowl and disappear. Maine rolled his eyes. His AI needed to learn how to take a joke.

The noise - erm, singing - seemed to become more passionate now. Maine decided to investigate. He peeked into shower stall area and saw the silhouette of a Wash-sized body behind one of the curtains. York approved of Maine's investigation and waggled his eyebrows at him. "See! It is Wash!"

It would appear it really was Wash. Now that Maine concentrated, that was indeed his good friend Washington's voice. But what on earth was he singing? Maine gestured at York to shut up so he could listen to what Wash was belting out with a fury.

My itty bitty kitty is so fuuuuuzzy,
You wish your kitty was just as fuzzy!
My itty bitty kitty is so waaaarm,
You wish your kitty was just as warm!

Maine felt one of his increasingly rare grins stretch across his face as Wash launched into his next verse.

My itty bitty kitty likes its baaaaaall,
That I got for it to play with!
My itty bitty kitty is so cuuuuuddly,
Just as cuddly as a kitty should be!

My itty bitty kitty is the cuuuuutest,
You wish your kitty was just as cute!
But your itty bitty kitty ain't my itty bitty kitty,
So take him back to the stoooooore!

At this point, Maine was laughing just as hard as York was, who now had tears streaming down his face from laughing so hard. Honestly, only Wash would sing about cats. That man was going to be a serious cat lady one day, if he already wasn't.

"Delta," York managed to gasp, "I hope you're recording this."

The green glow of Delta flashed in front of York's face. Of course, Agent York. You asked me to and I am required to obey, his logic AI replied. Although, I do not understand the purpose of recording Agent Washington while he is performing basic human hygienic processes.

York chuckled, "Don't worry about it, D. It's just blackmail material."

Delta logged off without another word. Maine knew Delta was all too familiar with York's love of gathering blackmail material on the other agents. Though everyone knew York was too nice of a guy to actually follow through with anything. He just did it for kicks.

The water suddenly stopped. Maine and York ceased laughing immediately and waited. Silence descended upon the men for a few tense minutes. Wash could be heard still humming the rhythm to his song, making York begin chuckling again. Maine smacked him upside the head to get him to shut up, hoping they would go unnoticed by an oblivious Wash. However, the two freelancers both knew that if they tried to leave now, Wash would hear them. So they accepted that they could not keep their eavesdropping a secret and waited for Wash to exit his stall.

Wash finally emerged with a towel around his waist, his dark blonde hair a wet mess against his head. He froze when he saw York and Maine, both wearing sheepish grins, right at the entrance to the shower stalls.

"Uhm, h-how long have you guys been there?" Wash asked hopefully as he fiddled with the towel around his waist. Maybe they hadn't heard…

Maine and York looked at each other, and promptly burst out laughing again. Wash blushed. He was ready to die of embarrassment. He knew York had no doubt already recorded it and stored it away in his memory banks, because that was the way York was. But at the same time, Wash was kinda happy he got Maine to laugh, even if it came at his own expense. It had been a while since his large friend had shown signs of his old self ever since he got shot in the throat.

Despite his conflicting emotions, Wash decided the best course of action was to half run and half stumble past the two freelancers towards the safety of his and Maine's room. York and Maine vaguely heard the indignant shrieks of South, whom they guessed Wash had no doubt run into in his haste to get away.

When their source of amusement was gone, York and Maine recovered from their laughing session. York wiped the tears from his eyes while a still smiling Maine rubbed his throat. All that laughing had irritated his injury, but he decided it was well worth it. He hadn't laughed like that in a long time.

York looked at his watch and balked. He slapped Maine on the back in a friendly gesture. "I gotta go meet Carolina for a training match, but I'll see you later, big guy!"

Maine nodded and watched York dash towards the training area. Everyone knew not to keep Carolina waiting or else they were most likely in for a painful training session.

As Maine watched him go, he had the urge to go to his room all of a sudden. Not to go cause Wash more mental trauma. Definitely not.

But the large freelancer had to admit, he felt a lot better now than he did earlier. He realized his mood really had been in quite a rut since their last major mission went wrong. No wonder he had been contemplating his appearance and life decisions earlier. He was such a sap sometimes.

On the way to his room, Maine realized he had subconsciously picked up his pace as he went to further tease Wash. Wash always had this thing about him that cheered everyone up, making Maine grateful for the nth time that Wash was his roommate.

Maine reached his quarters soon after and swiftly entered his key code. The door noiselessly slid open to reveal a discombobulated but fully clothed Washington attempting to tidy his already spotless side of the room. Maine knew about Wash's tendency to clean when he was nervous or agitated about something. Wash was so engrossed in his work that he didn't even notice Maine's arrival.

"Those little… *mumble mumble*... why I should of *mumble*... those friggin' jerks..."

Maine grinned as he listened to Wash mutter under his breath. He nonchalantly cleared his throat, effectively scaring the crap out of Wash. Maine was impressed - he jumped even higher than York did.

"Maine! What the hell! What is with you and sneaking up on people today, huh?!" Washington demanded.

Maine did not respond. He strode over to his side of the room and flopped down on his messily made bed. He never fully made his bed properly, just to piss off Wash with his OCD I-need-everything-in-perfect-order state of mind.

Wash turned to face him. He put his hands on his hips and gave Maine his best glare. Maine responded by folding his hands under his head and looking utterly relaxed and bemused at the situation. This pissed Wash off more. He stalked up to Maine and jabbed a finger in his chest.

"You better not tell anyone about that, or... or else, uhm..." Wash rapidly lost faith in his bravado act of threatening the largest and strongest agent in the entire project.

Maine raised an eyebrow at Wash's sudden bravery. Or else what? he growled with a taunting smile.

Wash appeared to be at a loss for words. He pulled at the hem of his shirt, hoping Maine would let him off the hook. Even though Maine never had the intention of telling anyone (he'd never sell out Wash like that, he was his closest friend here) but he figured he could make him sweat a little.

Alright, Wash. I won't tell anyone, Maine finally growled.

Wash breathed out a sigh of relief.

...But you owe me one.

Wash narrowed his eyes. "Owe you what?" he asked suspiciously.

Maine flashed Wash a grin of straight white teeth. I don't know yet, I'll know when the time comes I suppose.

Wash huffed. "Fine," he conceded. As he turned to leave, Maine heard him mutter "jackass" under his breath.

What was that, Wash? Maine inquired pleasantly.

Wash's face turned red. "Nothing!" he stammered.

Maine had never seen Wash move so fast than when he ran out their room and towards the mess hall.

A few days later, Maine was sitting on one of the many couches in the rec room in between training sessions. He held his beloved brute shot and was inspecting it closely. After a brutal session with Texas doing weapon training in combat an hour prior, he observed that his favourite weapon was looking a little worse for wear. There were whole chunks missing from the body, the blade was dull and it looked in need of a good cleaning.

Maine sighed and ran his large hand through his short dark hair. This would require time to fix that he did not have. His first of many more matches against Carolina was in 30 minutes, which he knew he would not enjoy. Luckily it was only paintball training, which meant he only had to use a magnum and so he didn't have to further tarnish his poor brute shot. He absently drummed his fingers on his golden helmet that rested beside him while he contemplated his situation.

Looking completely at ease, Wash strolled in and plopped down in the spot on the couch next to Maine. Wash caught sight of Maine's beloved weapon and whistled. "Dang buddy, your brute shot isn't looking too good."

Maine agreed, nodding sadly. He turned it over, allowing Wash to see the long cut embedded in the back that got there when he blocked one of Texas' vicious attacks. It was times like this when he swore Tex was out to get all of them. The bitch.

Wash looked at Maine. His large friend held his tarnished weapon like one would hold a small child, all the while looking so dejected that it made Wash's chest tighten. Wash knew the brute shot was one of Maine's most prized possessions, having found and claimed it the very same mission that he lost his voice.

"Hey man, I could probably patch that up for you. You know, since I owe you and all." Yeah, that's why he was doing it, because he owed Maine due to the whole 'singing about kittens in the shower' incident.

Maine's head whipped up, his chocolate brown eyes like saucers. He looked so hopeful, like a little kid who just got offered the biggest lollipop in the world. Wash couldn't help but smile.

The large freelancer smiled back. He delicately handed Wash his brute shot and watched with amusement as Wash sagged under the weight. "Jeez Maine, you really do make this thing look like it doesn't weigh a million pounds."

Maine chuckled. Just then, the PA system crackled to life and the voice of FILSS was heard.

Agent Carolina and Agent Maine please report to the training room floor for your designated training session. Thank you and have a nice day!

Had the time really gone by that fast? The white and orange armoured man eased himself up off the couch. He was still sore from his round with Texas and now he was going to go train against Carolina. Did he have a death wish? He briefly pondered this before retrieved his helmet, gave Wash an friendly parting growl and proceeded towards the training room floor to no doubt get his ass handed to him.

And get his ass handed to him he did. Apparently Carolina was furious at Texas for some reason like she usually was, and poor Maine was on the receiving end of her fury. He was sure when he removed his armour he'd be black and blue. Sigma, surprisingly, had been no help. Maine figured he was still miffed about the comment Maine made a few days ago during the shower incident (he made a mental note to stop referring to it as the shower incident, it sounded really sketchy) and had therefore decided not to help him in battle like he was supposed to. Maine decided his creativity AI needed to not only learn how to take a joke, but to let go of a grudge as well.

Because of the multiple less than stellar training matches he did today, Maine wasn't in the best of moods. He was tired and frustrated that he did so poorly. He slowly ambled his way towards his room and barely gathered the strength to lift up his armoured hand and punch in the code. When the door opened, Maine caught a brief glimpse of Wash wearing civilian clothes before something was thrust in his face.

"Here it is! I filled in the dents and scratches and then painted over them so you wouldn't even know they were there. Then I washed it and then polished it because it was getting dull. Oh, and I sharpened the blade for you, with a few, uhm, issues." Wash shyly displayed his hands, which were bandaged with a variety of kitten themed Band-Aids. "Here, take it."

Maine gingerly took his brute shot. It really did look great, even better than when he first got it. Despite his exhaustion, Maine felt his mood shoot up. Only Wash seemed to know what could get him to feel so much better so quickly. The large freelancer was in awe, Wash did a spectacular job.

Wash mistook Maine's lack of immediate reaction for disapproval. "Uhm, I'm sorry if you don't like it. I can have it back to the way it was in no time, I swear –"

Maine promptly shut Washington up before he could make more of a fool of himself by pulling him into an embrace. Wash flinched, since he had half expected Maine to strangle him. While it was a little awkward since Maine was still in armour and Wash was in civvies, somehow it worked. Maine pulled back after a moment with a huge smile on his face. Thanks, Wash. It looks great, he growled approvingly.

Wash blushed. "No problem buddy. So we're even for the whole shower incident thing, right?" he asked a little hopefully.

While Maine was amused by the fact Wash also referred to what happened as the 'shower incident', he more than agreed with his fellow agent. Now he felt like he was the one who owed Washington. Wash didn't know it, but he did more than just help out a friend in need. Few people had looked past Maine's appearance and cared enough to see that he was more than just the team's muscle. Maine honestly couldn't even express to Wash how much that meant to him.

Maine placed a hand on Wash's shoulder. Yeah Wash, he growled affectionately. We're even.