I wrote this story as kinda a sequel to Meeting. For that one person who wanted more. You know who you are. Anyway, I hope you guys like this story and review it.

copyright RvB

Wash sat down at a chair in the mess hall. He was exhausted and sore and was glad for a chance to just sit down and relax.

So far Project Freelancer was a lot more challenging than any of the other training facilities he had been at.

His day had started out with hand to hand combat training. That….didn't go so well.

Wash had never been the best fighter back at basics. He was more of a long distance fighter, preferring to handle his enemies with a rifle instead of his fists.

However, it was required by Project Freelancer that all agents be trained and ready for hand to hand combat. So Wash decided to just go and hope for the best.

He was going to be sparring with Agent Wyoming. He was knocked off his feet within 10 seconds of the match.

The agent wasn't all that nice about it either. "Good try mate. I'm sure if you keep practicing, you might be able to get a punch in before being beaten to a bloody pulp," he had said in a mocking tone.

Wash groaned just remembering the British freelancer. He definitely was not looking forward to working with him.

Wash looked down at his tray of food with dismay. The food didn't look appetizing.

"The food here's not actually that bad. You just happened to come on meatloaf day," a voice said from behind him.

Wash turned around and saw the tan freelancer from before. York, if Wash remembered correctly.

York pulled out a seat and sat down with Wash.

Two more Spartans followed close behind. One in a dark purple suit, and one in a light purple suit.

"I'm North," the one in the darker suit offered as a greeting.

"North?" Wash asked confused.

"Dakota!" the lighter suited one snapped irritated. Wash was slightly surprised to find that it was a girl.

"That lovely person is North's sister South," York said with a slight smirk. "And by that I mean South Dakota,"

It clicked in Wash's mind that these were the two soldiers that York was talking about earlier. Odd, he didn't get the feeling that South 'loved' him

Both of them sat down across from York and Wash. South kinda reluctantly.

"So what's wrong with the meatloaf?" Wash asked, trying to spark a conversation.

"It's meatloaf," York said simply. "How's your first day been rookie?" he asked a full smirk on his face now.

Wash reddened slightly. "I told you I'm not a rookie!" he mumbled.

South gave a small laugh. "Well you are new here right?" she asked. "That makes you a rookie."

North gave his sister a disapproving look. "Leave the noob alone," he said in a stern voice. However, he couldn't keep a slight smile off his face.

York and South laughed at the sour expression on Wash's face.

"Dude we're just messing with you. Relax," York said when he finally stopped laughing. "Heard you had combat training with Wyoming. How'd that go?"

Wash groaned at the mention of his disastrous training session. "It went wonderful," he said sarcastically.

"Wyoming did say something about how the rookie was probably the worst fighter Project Freelancer had ever seen," North said thoughtfully.

South gave a harsh laugh. "Well since you obviously can't fight, what made you so special that Project Freelancer picked you to join our ranks?" she asked in an even harsher voice.

Wash scowled a bit at the Spartan's tone. "I'm a good shot," he said. "Top of my class in basics." He gave the purple freelancers a once over. "What's special about you?" he asked trying to keep the curiosity out of his voice and keep a haughty tone.

To his surprise, York laughed hard at this before either of the Spartans could respond.

"They have 'wonder twin powers'," York said once he finally stopped laughing, earning a glare from both of the apparent twins.

"Let's just say we're talented and leave it at that," North said with a small shrug, while South just continued to eat her meal without a word.

"If you're curious what my special talent is…" York said in a mock hurt voice.

"You said you were a lock-picker," Wash said cutting him off. "And joined the army to keep out of trouble."

South snorted slightly. "Yeah York that's why you joined up," she said sarcastically rolling her eyes. "I'm sure Carolina has nothing to do with it."

Wash gave York a curious look. "What's she talking about?"

York had turned red. "What's she…Oh! You mean South? Yeah she's not talking about anything. I mean it's nothing. Nothing really," York stammered.

Wash looked at the tan soldier in surprise. For such a smooth talker, he was a really bad liar.

"Well that was nice," North said lamely. "What else you got scheduled for today rookie?" he said turning towards Wash, obviously trying to cover for York.

York shot the dark purple soldier a grateful smile. "Yeah rookie, you gonna be able to show off your shooting skills?" he said, a challenge in his voice.

Wash stared at the men for a little bit, and despite his curiosity, decided to let the Carolina thing go for now. He would find out eventually if it as important.

"I'm supposed to do target practice right after lunch," he said trying his best to sound casual even though he was nervous.

After that last sparring match with Wyoming, he was eager to show everyone here just what he could do.

Maybe he could get them to stop calling him rookie. He may be new, but he wasn't a rookie! And he was going to prove it.

Not much else happened at the mess hall. North and York gave him helpful tips about the project. When the best time to train was, the best things to do during free time.

He had managed to piss South off a few more times though how exactly, the gray and yellow freelancer couldn't say.

From there, he went off to find where his practice secession would be. Luckily he had York and North to show him the way. The Mother of Invention was a huge place, and it was very easy to get lost.

The room that York and North lead him to was big and empty. That is except for the teal clad Spartan already there.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," the soldier said. "It's time to practice."

"Hello to you too Carolina," York said to the female soldier with a nod of his head. "This is Wash by the way. Don't know if you caught his name."

'So this is Carolina,' Wash thought. He was starting to understand what South had been talking about.

Carolina glared at the tan Spartan. "What are you two doing here? This is supposed to be a practice session. If you aren't here to shoot, then you need to get out!"

York threw his arms up in mock defeat. "Hey we're just here because the rookie was afraid that he'd get lost. Getting to see you was just luck,"

Carolina gave a small sigh. "Whatever. Just hurry up and leave. We need to get started. I want to see how good of a shot the new guy is."

"Can't possibly be any worse at shooting than he is at fighting," North joked lightly patting Wash on his back. "See you later, and good luck."

Wash glared at North's retreating figure before turning back to Carolina. He just wanted to get started so he could finally shut them up about his lack of skills.

York, instead of following North's example and leaving, stayed where he was.

"I think I'll join you," he said thoughtfully. "I want to know if you're as good a shot as you think you are."

Wash had a feeling that his staying had more to do with Carolina's presence than any real curiosity about his skills, but decided it would be better not to address that.

Carolina glared at York one more time before relenting. "Fine she said, but no funny business." She turned to Wash. "Let's see what you got."

"What am I supposed to be shooting at?" Wash said looking around the empty room once again. "What am I supposed to be shooting with?"

"F.I.L.S.S start the program," Carolina said ignoring Wash's questions.

"Executing program," the project's AI F.I.L.S.S said.

Wash looked in surprise as targets and tables with guns on them rose up from the floor. Basics didn't have that.

He walked with Carolina and York over to the table that had the guns on it, and picked up a rifle. It was his favorite weapon, except for maybe a sniper rifle, but Wash doubted that it would be much use for such short distance targets.

He quickly readied the weapon and turned towards the targets.

"Commencing target practice in 3..2..1," F.I.L.S.S said. "Begin now."

The targets began to move rapidly back a forth. It kinda reminded Wash of the shooting duck game he used to play at the carnivals back home when he was a kid.

Wash fired rapidly at the targets, hitting every single one.

After about a minute, the targets stopped moving and sunk back into the ground.

Wash turned around and found York and Carolina staring at him with an impressed looks.

"Wow, you actually are a pretty good shot," he said casually, a smirk on his face.

"Not bad," Carolina agreed, walking over the tables that had just reappeared from the ground.

Wash smiled back. "Thanks,"

Wash walked over to the tables to reload his rifle so he could shoot some more targets.

"You're still a rookie though," York called over to him.

Carolina laughed a bit at that comment while Wash felt himself turn red.

"Asshole," he muttered under his breath, but he smiled slightly as he said it.

I was thinking of making a part two of Meetings from Maine's point of view. What do you guys think?