Background:

I wrote this story long ago, and at the time, there was precious little in the way of Snake Eyes/Scarlett to be found on the Net, and most of those were written by authors who seemed to be unsure how to write such a pairing, or how to portray Snake Eyes in general. For example, one thing that really bothered me back in the day was an awkward tenancy to make it a Big Deal that no one, not even Scarlett, could handle the exposure of Snake Eyes' face, so much so that there was a juvenile comedy element to it. I thought that any issues to be had honestly, were further below the surface and centered on Snake Eyes' neurosis than was currently being written. A neurotic ninja? Heh. I was inspired to try my hand to see how I thought they would really interact as a couple, privately, with the societal masks removed. This was written well before the movie, or even before the Snake Eyes: Declassified/Scarlett: Declassified miniseries', so the details are not going to follow canon. Some of you might recognize this story as an edited version of the original that I published on another site a few years back. With the release of the movie, and renewed interest in G.I. Joe, I thought I'd re-post it here for a new audience. I have cut the more mature content from it so it could be posted here, but I think it's still a decent little introspective piece.

Setting: This takes place very early in the original Marvel comics Greatest American Hero run, and very early in the SE/S romance, shortly after the famous 'silent' comics issue, in which Scarlett is captured by Stormshadow and taken to Destro's castle. For those who never read it, Snake Eyes goes to rescue her and ends up fighting Stormshadow. Scarlett and Snakes facilitate an escape after a fierce ninja battle and it is revealed for the first time ever that there might be some kind of connection between Snake Eyes and the villain Stormshadow as both of their newly battle tattered costumes reveal identical red hexigram tattoos.

We join our two new lovebirds on Scarlett's first visit to his cabin in the High Sierras only days after the rescue mission to Destro's castle.

As always, GI Joe and all the usual suspect characters do not belong to me, and I make no profit in the writing of this work of fan appreciation. Critique and Comments totally welcome!

Happy Reading!

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Inside The Circle

Chapter 1: Follow

The High Sierras are without a doubt the most beautiful place on God's green earth. I can say this with some satisfaction, because I've seen most of it. I could say they sing because of their stark beauty and breathtaking views, but I'll be honest, I think it has more to do with him.

He loves it here. The silence, and solitude, and the rugged challenge; Sometimes I'm not really sure if they are a reflection of him or he of them. Of course I'm here because of him. Which is funny, because following a man's footsteps, even in the name of love, is the last thing I'd have expected of myself.

A woman had to be four times tougher, smarter, and faster than her male counterparts to get ahead in the military. I do it for me. I knew I had to be.

I did everything they threw at me. Then when this impressed somebody, I trained the troops in what I'd learned. I didn't hesitate under pressure. Beyond that was the inevitable glass ceiling that the Good Ol' Boys had in place for every woman who wanted to serve her country. The same one all of my fellow soldiers had in place for me, no matter what their best intentions were; That unspoken machismo that had them protecting me, or slapping me down to a greater or lesser degree. They were just so big, so strong, so needing to prove their own worth. Fact of life old girl. Suck it up, and moved on. I prove myself all over again on their terms every single day, with grit and determination, and being just that good.

It never hurt to offer a smile and a little bit of grace while I was at it. And thank you ma'am, I was one of the first women to make Special Counter-terrorist Group Delta: THE first woman on the G.I. Joe team to be sent into a hostile zone with my own command. Not too shabby for a little gal from Georgia. I like to think I paved the way for my sister soldiers, just as the WAAFs and WACs all our other sisters did for me.

Sometimes I think I failed them. I had to go and fall in love. Truth of the matter is, I guess Granny was right: When it hits you girl, it hits you right between the eyes and there's nothing you can do about it.

He caught my eye from the start of course, with a profile that was need to know and the favor of Abernathy himself. Quiet even then, he'd had a strength in him. In a world surrounded by macho personalities, he stood out. He'd stepped onto the mat, and taken his lumps like every other soldier. He had nothing to prove. He didn't try to be the best, he just was. That was all, and that was everything.

He intrigued the hell out of me. His aloof separation-what the other soldiers instinctively viewed as Grade A bad attitude. No, it was something more. That air of mystery had me responding on some visceral reptile level to him. I was only human. And beyond that… I've never seen a man so utterly alone in my whole life and that right there pulled on me. I was all protective and hot under the collar at the same time. When you have the perfect silent, strong hero, you can only hold out so long right?

So, just concentrate on business girl. Be all I can be. Hoo-Rah. We were just companions and teammates who worked amazingly well together. It didn't mean anything that we anticipated each other's responses with an intuition bordering on scary…or that I just knew where to find him at any given time on duty or off. It didn't mean anything important. Just good friends, right?

Then came the helicopter crash in the Saudi desert. He'd saved my life and darn near lost his own with shrapnel and third degree burns to his face and throat. I don't want to know what was done to keep him from strangling from the edema or bleeding out trying to complete the mission afterwords. It damaged more than just the superficial bits on his head though. Coming out of the hospital, he wouldn't have anything to do with me. Me. I was one of the few who'd ever gotten inside that wall in the first place.

What surprised me was how much it hurt. Not for me so much…at least not after that first bit-After rehab and retraining, he came back to duty just fine-but later, for him.

It was more than his mute silence that kept folks from having a decent conversation with him.

I was the one who took sign language right along with him and half the time you'd think his hands were as broken as his throat for all the talking he did. Add to that those damn masks. I hate them and everything they stand for-a shield and a shame that someone like him shouldn't make himself carry. Scars aren't shameful. They say you survived. They say you beat the awful things that tried to break you.

So of course I badgered the hell out of him. He hated my guts for a while, but I'm not one to give up on any soldier. Especially him. It took him long enough to come around this much. But don't you know, if a thing's worth having, it's worth taking time on.

It must have worked. Here I sit at the end of the mountains with a rock jabbing my butt through these blue jeans. Not really sure how long, I've just been sitting here, staring at him down by the water. I can't keep my eyes off of him while he meditates.

To watch him move! Walking through through his katas with a sublime grace that I'll never have in a million years.

He takes the masks off when it's just the two of us. It's always a relief to see his true face. Lord he's beautiful; Flawed and perfect. It hurts to look at him too. Every scar on his body reflects a scar inside. That anyone could have such pain in their lives and triumph so well.

Every mark a testament to his warrior stats and his will to survive as much as any smooth line of muscle and sinew, just as much as the peace radiating from him while he meditates is a testament to his strength and control. Makes me want to slip down there and trace my hands over that beautiful totality. He's like that water rippling by his side: Still and peaceful one moment, hard and unstoppable the next. I feel like nothing could stand against him.

Mmmm…Like a glass of water, I feel like I could drink him right down just looking at him.

Yeah I'm smiling, Snake Eyes. You see me up here thinking things about you?

Snake Eyes. In all the time I've known him, I've never called him anything else. It's what he is.

It's like those scars I've decided. It doesn't change what my guts and heart tell me about him. He doesn't need a name be what he's come to mean to me. Brother in arms, friend, lover, confidant, sometimes even protector.

It doesn't matter to me anymore, those little bits he can't share if he isn't ready. He sure accepts me as I am. Not too many men you can say that about with a tough as nails soldier girl with something to prove. So, I guess I'll just continue to ruin my spotless reputation as a liberated woman, and follow him to the ends of the world, or the High Sierras, whichever is closer. At least that's what I tell myself. I can't hide the truth though, and I'll show him every way he'll let me: that man is my other half.