Working Vacation
Summary: "May you live in interesting times," was an ancient Chinese curse for a reason. Marvel Universe, Flint/LJ, Scarlett, Cross Country, Alpine, Doc. Takes place after Scarlett awakens from her coma but before the fatal mission in Benzheen.
A/N: A way overdue Christmas story for Hagan99, who requested something involving the Soviet Union. This was the closest I could come up with. Sorry I took so long to post anything, but it never came together the way I wanted it to. It wasn't getting any better just sitting on my hard drive.
A/N II: amykay saw a very rough draft of this, but the story has never had a beta. All mistakes are mine and mine alone.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Nope, nada. I don't have anything.

Chapter 1

To be blunt, the Balkans were going to hell.

From her clifftop vantage point overlooking the Adriatic Sea, Lady Jaye gazed to the east restlessly. She was way too far away to see any signs of the troubles, but she knew the situation was bad. If nothing else, she had heard some things about Snakes Eyes' mission in Borovia before her flight out, and that proved the ethnic violence spreading over the region was worse than feared.

Not that the violence in itself was surprising. The intelligence community knew that ethnic problems were always an issue in the Soviet Union – by design. It had been the linchpin in Joseph Stalin's plans to keep the empire together. More than one hundred distinct ethnic groups fell under the Soviet's control, and as much as they disliked Moscow, their historical grudges went deeper.

Stalin's cruel genius was using that to his advantage. He had millions of minorities displaced – no one had any idea exactly how many, but it was known that at least one million people died in the process. Ingushs, Poles, Chechens, Tartars, Kalmyks, Greeks and Koreans were a just a handful of the ethnic groups forcefully moved from their homes. Often they were placed amid their traditional enemies, and almost always away from their allies.

One group in any region was always given special favor over the others, and it was usually a minor ethnicity. Officials turned a blind eye to abuses heaped on one group by another. The Soviets encouraged the same behavior in their satellite countries. In short, it created a situation where the various ethnic minorities were too busy fighting with each other to ever join forces to oppose Moscow.

And it worked – as long as the Red Army and KGB prevented things from getting out of hand. But with the collapse of the Soviet Union, no one was there to keep order. For all the Communist cheerleading of equality, the truth was very few people rose to positions of power unless they were Rus – ethnic Russians. The prohibition was so strong that Stalin had had his own family and childhood friends murdered to hide the truth that he himself was Georgian, not Russian.

This favoring for Rus leaders meant the various armies in the Warsaw Pact and the breakaway regions were full of soldiers but not enough officers to lead. The Communist overseers of the legal system were trying to flee before the inevitable retribution for their abuses started. There was no law, no police, no military.

Without Moscow's controlling presence, people were finally venting the decades' worth of pent-up aggression fostered by the Soviets, and the level of brutality staggered even those who had expected some sort of trouble.

Shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight, Lady Jaye wondered if the Joes were going to get involved. It wasn't their normal type of mission, but who knew how many Americans might be stuck in the firefights. There were teams already staging in Germany, on alert over the tensions between Trucial Abysmia and Benzheen, and they could easily change targets.

And I'm stuck here.

Turning around, she noticed the waiter approaching her fretfully, his smile strained as he hurried to join her on the terrace. Giving him a faint wave, she let herself be herded back inside the hotel and shook her head at another waiter approaching with a tray loaded with glasses of champagne.

Okay, here wasn't exactly a horrible location. A seaside resort on the Italian coast was generally considered nice, certainly compared to some of the hellholes she'd been stuck in while on missions. But glancing around, she noted the dated decor and lack of modern amenities with a bit of distaste. This hotel had been one of the spots to be seen during her great-grandmother Adele's heydays, back before there were jets for the jet-set to enjoy. Now it was a bit of a sad reminder of the past. The Edwardian mammoth stood in stark contrast to the graceful older buildings of the town. Hell, it even had roque courts, and those were usually only found in the better class of haunted mountain locales.

But Adele wanted one last visit, and the undisputed matriarch of the Hart-Burnett clan had cajoled a large number of relatives to join her. Lady Jaye hadn't been too interested in going, and she had given the somewhat realistic excuse that she didn't think she'd be able to get off. Adele, however, sweetly threatened to call General Abernathy personally – she claimed to know some of the Colorado Abernathy family, and she most likely did – and Lady Jaye knew her great-granny never bluffed.

It was Psyche-Out who sealed her fate, overhearing her talking to Duke about the leave request. He pointed out she was overdue for a vacation and needed to take some time off – now! She strongly suspected her tensions with Flint over the Lieutenant Gorky incident might have played a role in the shrink's desire to see the two of them spend some time apart – or at least out of his hearing. So, in short order, she was packed, hitched a ride on one of the planes heading to Germany, then herded onto a train heading for the Adriatic Sea.

And her forced vacation hadn't been completely horrible. True, the phone service was pathetic. Her lumbering lout of a lover had resorted to sending Lady Jaye a wire letting her know that Scarlett was out of her coma, but she hadn't been able to get a line to the hospital to talk with her. Just knowing her friend was awake helped cheer her up and made the trip more enjoyable.

It didn't hurt that the weather was perfect, sunny and clear with gentle breezes. Sailing in the mornings with her father had been enjoyable, as had trouncing a pair of rude cousins in tennis doubles with her mother. Horseback rides along the beach in the evenings gave her time for her own thoughts. There were promises of heading to Rome and Milan for shopping trips. The food alone was enough to have made Roadblock cry in joy and the wine list would send him to heaven.

She was wondering about the logistics of sending him a care package as she surveyed the table laden with an afternoon tea – talk about dated routines! Lady Jaye helped herself to some more cheese tart, frowning slightly as she noticed another waiter discouraging people from the terrace.

It doesn't look like rain …

"At least there's one benefit to your career choice, Alison. You can eat whatever you want," came her mother's voice from behind her.

"Yes. One benefit," she answered tightly.

Of course, it wasn't a coincidence that great-granny Adele arranged an outing that highlighted all the family had to offer just before Lady Jaye's re-enlistment was due to come up. No one had said anything, of course, but the meaning wasn't lost on her – 'You're one of us. Live like it.'

She frowned as two waiters rushed by, talking quietly in a Germanic dialect. Well, with all the ethnic disturbances, it wasn't surprising that groups were escaping to other countries.

Her mother gave her an amused look, completely undeterred either by Lady Jaye's impatient response or distracted observance as the waiters headed out of the room. "Well, you do get free clothing, too," Elizabeth Hart-Burnett replied lightly, "but that's not much of a benefit when you only get khaki."

"I was wondering when you'd start. The family is usually more subtle than all this," Alison said, waving her free hand to indicate the resort.

"Don't be like that, darling. Your great-grandmother wanted to come here one more time while she was still able," she said kindly. Her smile wavered as she took in the area. "All right, it's not Telluride, but she likes it."

Alison shared her smile, united in their distaste for the place. "And I like my life. Is that so hard to believe?"

"We don't know what to believe, love. You used to be so," she paused, considering her words carefully, "so driven. No one who knew you as a child would ever believe you'd be happy being a 'personnel clerk'."

Lady Jaye raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn't give any other response to the implied question in her mother's voice. She always doubted her parents bought her cover story. She had never told them the reality of her position and wasn't planning on doing so now. "I'm happy with my career. Isn't that enough?"

"Is it, though?"

Alison rolled her eyes as the first waiter stepped into the doorway leading to the terrace, effectively blocking her retreat. Even Adele's velvet reign of terror hadn't been enough to get more than a handful of aunts and cousins to attend an afternoon tea, but this wasn't a conversation she wanted to share with any of the others. Her mother touched her arm and motioned to a small table partially hidden behind large potted plants, and they slipped into the chairs quietly.

"Okay, Mom. If you think I'm unhappy at my job, why do you think I'm keeping it?"

"Is it that man you're seeing?"

"You can't believe I'm basing my career around a man!" Lady Jaye stated angrily.

Elizabeth remained unperturbed; she had, after all, survived her daughter's temper since Alison's childhood. "Like I said, we don't know what to believe. You're still sleeping with him, so it's more than a passing fancy. But you've never brought him home to meet us. That is a first."

Lady Jaye closed her mouth quickly. Of course, the downside of using hotels owned by her mother's side of the family was the family knew all the details. "I can't believe you're spying on us," she said, knowing full well her Grandfather Ravenhearst would do so. As much as the Hart-Burnett clan disliked her career choice, they reluctantly accepted it. Granddaddy, however, had offered her several substantial bribes to leave the military. I wonder what he finds out from the maids …

"I'd hardly call it spying," her mother said. "All we know about this man is that he's tall, dark and handsome. I'd like to think he's more than some fortune cookie wisdom."

Well, if she wants to know so badly. "Okay," Alison said with a grin. "He's loud, brash, obnoxious and has an ego the size of the Vineyard."

Her mother continued sipping her tea calmly. "And what about his bad qualities?"

Rolling her shoulders, Lady Jaye let out a grunt. Her mother was the apex of good breeding; nothing would get a rise out of her. And the description wasn't that far off. "I'm annoyed with him at the moment. He managed to piss me off recently, if you must know."

"Well, that's no great feat."

She did a quick double take. Even after all her experience with the Joe team and as a covert agent, her mother still had the ability to put her in her place with no effort.

"Alison, there must be one good thing you can say about him. There has to be something about him that you've stayed with him this long."

Lady Jaye considered her next words carefully. An honest answer would be, "He has bigger balls than I do," but she doubted her mother would react well to that. How could she describe Flint in a way her mother would understand? So many of his good qualities came to light during their missions, something she couldn't exactly detail to her mother.

"He's loyal and dependable," she finally said.

"Excellent qualities," Elizabeth said dryly, "if one is looking for a pet."

Lady Jaye smiled. "Well, he is housebroken."

"Good, then we won't have to send the carpets out to be cleaned after he visits," her mother said firmly. "Your father and I want to know this man. He obviously means something to you."

She sipped her tea slowly. "You can tell Daddy not to worry. I have no plans of running off and marrying."

All amusement left her mother's expression. "Why would I break his heart?"

"What?" Lady Jaye couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice.

"The first thing your father did once we got you home from the hospital was start a fund to pay for your wedding. He wants to walk you down the aisle, to give you anything you want for your wedding," Elizabeth told her. "It's going to break his heart to find out he won't get the chance."

Lady Jaye let out a breath, forcing some of her annoyance at Flint fade. "I never said that, Mom. I wouldn't mind marrying eventually. Just not in the immediate future."

"Do you think it will be to your fortune cookie man?"

She consider her answer carefully. Keeping her relationship with Flint quiet had been from necessity. Hawk ignored it, but that didn't change the fact it was in violation of multiple regulations. She hadn't considered her parents would mistake her caution for evasiveness.

"His name is Dashiell Faireborn. He's a Rhodes Scholar, very well-read and intelligent."

"That's an impressive baked good," Elizabeth deadpanned.

"He's also an officer, and we have to keep things very discreet."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well, now I know you are serious, even if you won't admit it. You would never flaunt the rules for a fling."

Lady Jaye chuckled. "He can be very sweet – when he isn't making me want to deck him again."

"Again, Alison?" Her mother held up a hand to stop her response. "I think I'll assume that the 'again' meant to the feeling, not to your physical … uhm … "

"Proclivities?"

Her mother let out a short sigh, a clear sign she wasn't exactly happy. "Let's get back to the subject at hand. Darling, do you think you'll marry him? I have to say, from what you've described – or not described – it doesn't sound promising."

After closing her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts, Lady Jaye leaned towards her mother. "He's a good man, Mom. He really is. We argue, that's true, but I've never been happier with anyone else in my life. But I don't know where we'll end up," she said softly, pausing for a few moments. "You wanted to know about his bad qualities. The worst, and the only one that really bothers me, is his jealousy."

Elizabeth's gaze was sharp as she toyed with her tea cup for a moment. "I have a feeling he's justified in that regard."

"What on earth would make you say that?"

"Alison, dear, let's be honest. You crave attention. It's why you loved the stage so much. Not many men enjoy watching their significant other lavishing in the praise of another."

"It wasn't like that!"

"Then tell me what it was like."

"Eh." How to explain Lieutenant Gorky? Well, Mom, I was working with a team of Soviet elite agents against a crazy European leader in a Dayglo-colored outfit who was trying to raid a South American countryside of its resources, and a Soviet lieutenant ended up on my lap and …Oh, and let's not forget Flint's behavior while we were with Snake Eyes in New York. That had set the whole mood. "It's … complicated?"

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow significantly. "I see."

"He was being unreasonable about it," Lady Jaye insisted, realizing her mother would never believe her – especially when she sounded like a pouting child. The rest of her response faded as she watched a waiter trot across the room to join the others on the terrace.

"Alison?"

"What? Oh, sorry," she said distractedly, noticing that now all the waiters had disappeared . The resort was certainly past its prime, but it had always managed decent service. Something was starting to seem off to her. Not able to pinpoint any real trouble and not wanting to worry her mother, she returned to the conversation with what seemed like a safe statement. "Dash and I are a lot alike, actually."

"And here I thought you were trying to reassure me," her mother answered, a hint of a smile playing behind her teacup.

"Dash, … he knows how to get me from taking myself too seriously."

"Now that is an accomplishment," Elizabeth answered with genuine happiness.

"He's a good man," she finally admitted. "He does have an overactive ego, but he's also very talented. He's unique."

Her mother leaned over the table to place her hand over her daughter's. "Do you love him, Alison?"

After a brief hesitation, she nodded her head and gave a reluctant smile. "I suppose I do."

"And does he love you?"

And that was the rub. She wanted to believe he did, actually she was positive he did, but the lumbering idiot …

The whole issue had started in New York. They were waiting with Snake Eyes in the hospital, anxious for an update on Scarlett's surgery after her near fatal encounter with the Baroness. They had sat in silent company as Snake Eyes alternated between pacing the floors and sitting in a chair twisting his hands anxiously.

She and Flint sat on the same sofa. He had his arm across the back of it, but they weren't touching. Never in uniform, in public – it was one of the rules of their relationship, even if self-imposed. At first he appeared the only one of the group who was calm, but it eventually dawned on her that Flint had been reading the same pamphlet on managing menopause symptoms for three hours.

Things went downhill quickly, though, when the doctor finally came out and gave them the news. It wasn't good, but then the doctor made the mistake of recommending a plastic surgeon for Snake Eyes, unaware he was the man responsible for Scarlett's condition. She had moved first, placing herself between Snake Eyes and the doctor, knowing she would be a cold smear on the floor if the enraged ninja didn't back down. Even with Flint grabbing him from behind, he could have easily overpowered both of them. But it had been enough – Snake Eyes wouldn't hurt his friends, so he stormed out of the hospital instead.

She tried to get Flint to back off. Snake Eyes' anger had been justified, but the dumb lump of a warrant officer was too worked up – she'd seen the look of terror in his eyes when she had intercepted Snake Eyes – and Flint needed to vent. Unfortunately, he took the wrong approach, telling Snake Eyes not to dwell on missed opportunities to tell Scarlett he had loved her.

And bless his heart, the irate ninja knew exactly how to get Flint to back off – by effectively telling him to practice what he preached. The warrant officer been left scratching his head after Snake Eyes stormed off, ignoring Lady Jaye's gentle smile.

"Should we let him go off alone? That's not the safest neighborhood," Flint asked.

"So it'll be safer when he's through. Come on, let's get some coffee. We have a long wait before we can see Scarlett in the recovery room."

They found an all-night dive, grabbed some horrible coffee and nearly stale sandwiches. At one point, she caught Flint staring at her and he did give a sheepish grin. Never in uniform, in public – she wasn't expecting him to make any grand proclamations, and certainly not in a dump. And they remained professional at the diner, back at the hospital and as they walked with Snake Eyes – now joined by Stalker and the others – back to one of his hidey holes in the city.

Once in their hotel room, they were both quiet at first. Scarlett's prognosis wasn't good, and seeing her after surgery hadn't lifted anyone's spirits. Lady Jaye was the first to speak, the first one to break the cardinal unspoken rule – she admitted how she felt. It started suddenly, and she found herself unable to stop once she started. She told Flint simply that she loved him, had loved him for some time and would probably love him always. She wanted him to know in case anything ever happened, wanted him to know how happy he had made her feel. His completely stunned silence made her wish she could take the words back – at least until he got up, walked to her and gave her the longest, tenderest kiss they'd ever shared. More followed, and it wasn't long before they were in bed.

Then he rolled over and went to sleep.

She hadn't been upset at the time. They were both physically and emotionally spent from the hospital vigil. And it would have been the best sex of their relationship if they hadn't been so tired. But the next morning, he didn't say anything. Or the next day, or the next … the entire time they stayed with Snake Eyes, Flint never said a word about how he felt.

When they got to Sierra Gordo, they ended up working with the October Guard and Gorky was there. Maybe her mother was right; maybe she did enjoy the attention too much. But it was such a change to be with a man who's idea of flirting was to enumerate her good qualities instead of telling her she was lucky to be with him.

Flint had been so angry. And maybe her mother was right again. Maybe Flint felt she'd been playing him along, saying how much she loved him, and then flirting with Gorky not that long afterward. Ah, damn it all to hell. Why did things always have to be so complicated with him?

Noticing her mother watching her with concern, Lady Jaye forced herself to smile, even if it wasn't the most convincing. "I think he does love me. He's not the most talkative person when it comes to his emotions."

"At least I have something I can tell your father. He did send me to this tea to grill you," Elizabeth teased, stopping when her daughter stood up quickly.

"Mom, don't say anything, but get everyone out of here," Lady Jaye said quietly, standing up as she watched the waiters spread out. She might be overreacting, but it looked like they were getting into position to block the exits from the room. "Now!"

To her credit, Elizabeth didn't argue, recognizing the urgency in her daughter's voice. She quickly crossed the room, stopping at various tables and whispering hurried comments as she made her way to Adele's table.

For her part, Lady Jaye strode to the terrace. There was no way she could overwhelm all the waiters, not if they all came at her at once, but she could create a distraction for the others to get away.

"Everyone sit down! My boy here isn't in a good mood!" barked a voice from behind her, and Lady Jaye froze.

It was Zarana.

TBC

A/N III: Roque was a short-lived variation of croquet. It features in the novel The Shining, hence the haunted mountain resort referenced earlier.