A good deed never went unpunished. With that in mind, Raidou dropped the still-unconscious Minamato in the occasionally tender care of the hospital medics and made his way back to ANBU headquarters with a faint sense of impending doom.

There was no power on earth that was going to make him believe he'd get the chance to drop kick Hyuuga Haruichi around a room for a bit without karmic repercussions coming down on him like the tonne of proverbial bricks. Life just wasn't that good to people.

Raidou turned the corner and shouldered his way into the gym just in time to see Haruichi sink his teeth into Arakaki Hisoka's calf muscle. In the golden moment between Arakaki's surprised bellow and Haruichi's answering yelp as he got summarily booted across the length of the room and into the wall, time stood still for Raidou.

Maybe life was that good.

Raidou made sure his face showed absolutely no trace of a smile as he crossed the distance to the edge of the mat and tapped his spiral tattoo in a salute. "Sir," he said, greeting Arakaki and making sure not to let his voice shake with laughter. "Having a little trouble?"

Arakaki's look as he turned to examine the chunk taken out of his leg was going to keep Raidou warm on cold missions for a long, long time.

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Spitting out said corresponding (and permanently displaced) chunk of leg, Haruichi groaned very, very quietly as he rolled over and got back up again. His head was starting to spin with the number of times he'd gone from standing, to falling, to flying without pause but at least he could still see. Which meant he could see Raidou standing there, and realize that things were about to go from sore to semi-conscious.

So he leaned against the wall and started healing his bruises as fast as he could before Arakaki set Raidou on him, or worse, got him to tag team. It crossed his mind that Raidou might've had a point with his earlier jibe down in the Infirmary - clearly there were one or two merits to cannibalism in the service after all.

Across the room, Arakaki clearly could not believe what had just happened. He had been bitten in the leg by a Hyuuga. It was like the punchline of a joke you'd tell at parties.

Arakaki Hisoka didn't go to many parties, and jokes were less funny when they came with accompanying scars (unless they were on someone else), so he was not inclined to be kind to Haruichi with respect to Raidou's new assignment for the day. "It's Hyuuga, he's always trouble," he replied darkly, glaring at the mess his leg was in one last incredulous time, then over at Haruichi. "He doesn't get his spiral until he's convinced me he's earned it. Right now that means proving he can survive having taijutsu used on him without resorting to the jyuuken."

His dark eyes narrowed at the medic who apparently hadn't realized he'd fixed the same knock to his side three times now, and he smiled very quietly. "You can take over, Raidou. The only danger you're in is of laughing so hard you pull something."

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Raidou glanced at Haruichi, somewhat crumpled on the floor, and then back at his captain, somewhat lighter in the leg region, and weighed his options.

A good deed never went unpunished.

Raidou sighed. "With respect, sir, whilst I appreciate a good spar, a massacre is never my favourite thing to indulge in unless I know there's a paycheck somewhere in the near future." Translation: Didn't your mommy ever teach you not to beat up the weaker kids?

A ninja's concept of right and wrong was generally about as fluid as the blood they spent half their time wading through, but Raidou was getting definite unhappy twinges about the idea of beating up a medic who'd clearly already been worked over. Even on an order.

Even if Haruichi needed to learn to watch his damn mouth.

Arakaki was much too well-trained a ninja to let his killing intent spill out and burn the air red, but there was a definite auroa of imminent global catastrophe in the look he gave Raidou. "One month suspended duties. No argument, Namiashi."

Raidou didn't wince, but he definitely felt the urge to.

One month of no missions. That meant one month of no pay -- his brothers needed that, dammit -- and Genma without a mission partner in the morning.

Raidou swore very, very quietly to himself, and prepared to toss Haruichi to the proverbial wolves.

Sorry, Hyuuga.

He bowed shortly. "No need for that, sir. I'll do it."

Arakai smiled without any humour whatsoever. "Then proceed."

Raidou bent down and slipped his sandals off -- at least he wasn't going to leave a treadmark on Haruichi's face, or any other portion of his anatomy -- and padded across the room to collect his unwilling sparring partner. It was disturbingly easy to scruff Haruichi by the collar and drag him to the middle of the mat. Raidou stepped back a pace and bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, raising already bruised hands up into an easy guard.

Haruichi was going to sell his organs on the black market after this, Raidou just knew it.

"On your feet, kid. Let's get this over with."

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Getting tugged around like a wayward kitten did little to endear Raidou to Haruichi at that particular moment - especially given that he didn't need reminding that the other man probably had twice the muscle on him and plenty more height. That meant plenty more reach in his arms and more arc in his kicks, which in turn meant Haruichi was not looking forward to this.

Getting called a kid was just icing on the cake. And like the Director's leg, Haruichi was certain that this cake would taste of evil too.

"You say that like it won't take long," Haruichi observed, activating his byakugan in anticipation of the fact that Raidou's leg was probably long enough to sneak up behind him while the rest of him put on a puppet show to his face. Gods, he hated fighting with tall people.

From the far side of the room, where he was wrapping bandages around his leg, Arakaki muttered, "By all means, make it as protracted as possible." Luckily Haruichi didn't hear him. Not that there would've been time to respond. As soon as he settled into a decent blocking-slash-ducking-for-one's-life stance Raidou's various appendages shot into action and within about ten seconds Haruichi's skinny little Hyuuga ass was flung once again across the room.

Things did not improve from there.

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It took Raidou the rough equivalent of a solid kick to the sternum and the aborted beginnings of a straight jab to realize two things; one, Haruichi couldn't block for shit, and two, members of the Hyuuga clan could actually look graceful even when they slammed into a wall.

That was kind of impressive, really.

Even more impressive was the way Haruichi bounced -- quite literally -- back to his feet and managed to dodge into the next blow. Raidou wasn't quite sure who winced more at the impact of knuckles to jaw; himself because he hadn't been intending to hit Haruichi quite that hard in the first ten seconds, or Haruichi, because he definitely hadn't liked being hit that hard.

Haruichi met the floor again and Raidou did the decent thing by not kicking him straight in the ribs. Neither did he do the stupid thing by standing near enough to meet teeth. One viewing of that particular attack was more then enough, he didn't fancy an up close and personal look at it.

"Technically it counts as you surviving this if I just knock you the hell out," he commented, apparently to the ceiling. "I get personal pride and all, but there's a limit, Hyuuga."

And this isn't exactly a fair fight, Raidou groused to himself.

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Getting punched in the eye when you had the byakugan activated was quite possibly more painful than getting kicked between the legs, and Haruichi was pretty sure he'd blacked out for a few seconds as he crashed into the mat. This was insane. He couldn't fight like this! This, this bareknuckle brawling business was just so crude he couldn't deal with it, and he was going to break a bone or more if he didn't find some way to call this off.

And yet (gods save him) he was Hyuuga Haruichi, so when Raidou suggested retreat-by-concussion there was only one reply to be made as he levered himself back up to his feet.

"Come over here and say that you giraffe-limbed bastard!"

Yeah, so... when he'd taken a few hits to the head, Haruichi's calling-out technique took a dent too; but all the same, his was the side of unrepentant snarkiness and he wasn't about to let it down.

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Raidou spared a moment to wonder what was it with Haruichi and verbal suicide, before he swept the man's feet out from under him. He made certain not to hit the medic -- he was beating up a medic. If Genma's afterlife existed, then Raidou was going to a very special hell -- hard enough to break an ankle, not that he thought Haruichi appreciated the gesture. At least the Hyuuga fell more skilfully then he blocked, catching himself successfully on what were probably pretty sore forearms.

The way Raidou saw it, he had a few options at this point. He could call the fight and do the honourable thing by walking the hell away -- but that way lead to a lack of cash for the living thing, and a lack of a mission partner for Genma, which also directly tied to the living thing, or the lack of it -- he could end the fight with the much more blunt manner of inflicting head trauma and unconsciousness, he could throw the fight and let Haruichi win -- of course, if he did that he would never be able to forgive himself, and he doubted Haruichi would either -- or he could kill Arakaki and put a terminal end to the whole matter.

Of course, the last would get him executed for treason, but it was still an option.

Raidou decided to be pernickety and went with none of the above. Instead he dropped himself down to neatly straddle Haruichi's lower back, dodged the backwards elbow that would've almost connected, and grabbed Haruichi's wrists to wrench them around and hold them together, shoving them up until his arms were bent at a fairly painful angle and his hands rested just shy of the back of his own neck. "Right," he said to the idiot-medic and the idiot-captain both, "We've established that not only can you take a hit, kid, but that you can also bounce. Congratulations." He looked up and glared at Arakaki, proving that Haruichi was not the only one with career ending tendencies in his character. "Can we end this while we still have a functioning medic, or do you need to see him truly carbonized before your wounded pride is satisfied?"

Raidou had no problems with authority, but he did have some stellar objections to personal vendettas making it into the mix. Besides, there were only so many times you could hit a guy who couldn't hit back before it seriously stopped being fun.

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When Genma heard that Haruichi was back in ANBU, he went looking for him pretty much immediately. When he heard, upon arriving at the medic's office to find a nurse but no medic, that Haruichi was having his fitness for mission duty tested by the director of ANBU operations himself, he wasted no time in heading for the dojo. The news had some fairly stunning implications.

One, Haruichi was not only not dead, he was in fact, evidently in fighting form.

Two, Arakaki and the powers that be had finally decided to add another fully trained medic to the field-operatives' ranks, which the field-medics like Genma--who for the most part were, like Genma, Hunters or Intel Operatives who had additional training in first aid and field medicine--had been petitioning their senior officers for for months.

Three, Arakaki either thought Haruichi had spectacular promise, or he had an axe to grind. And if it was the latter, Genma feared for Haruichi's health.

It wasn't that Arakaki was a cruel man. Not at all. It was just that he was an old-school war hawk. A by-the-book officer, who took his responsibility managing Konoha's Black Ops regiment very seriously. He wasn't a cruel man, no, that would be his counterpart, Shida Akumaru, the director of Torture and Interrogation, but he could be a hard man. If he was trying to prove a point, he was like a pit bull in his tenacity. Unrelenting. Unsympathetic. It was that diamond hardness that made him capable of leading ANBU's field operations, but it was also a little terrifying.

What Genma found was at least as surprising as the news that Haruichi was back had been. Arakaki was dressed in a gi, had one leg bandaged and showing fresh blood, and was standing grimly in one corner, arms folded, eyes glittering dangerously, looking at the pair of men on the mats.

Haruichi was pinned, flat on his stomach, with his arms wrenched up incapacitatingly hard. His shortish hair was in wild disarray, his face pale and bruised, with high spots of color in his cheeks, and his eyes were in activated byakugan. He looked deeply pissed off.

And Raidou was there. Straddling Haruichi, pinning him, looking like he hadn't taken a single blow himself in this spar, also looking deeply pissed off, and committing what seemed like a seriously career-limiting move, mouthing off to Arakaki.

Well, Genma wasn't willing to see Haruichi killed, which evidently from Raidou's comment was what he thought Arakaki was driving at. And he wasn't willing to see Raidou exiled to some crappy border patrol post. So he had to step in.

"Er..." He entered the room with enough stealth to not look a fool in front of Arakaki, and enough noise to make sure they all knew he was there. "I'm sure what Raidou meant was to ask if you'd seen enough of Haruichi-sensei's sparring capabilities to have an understanding of his strengths and weaknesses."

"Shiranui," Arakaki said, turning to look up at the newcomer. He wasn't a tall man, something that always surprised the new ANBU recruits. He was such an imposing figure that it was hard to believe he barely topped 5'9". "Interesting to see an assassin attempt diplomacy."

"Sir," Genma said, and glanced at Raidou. Cool your jets, idiot, he thought furiously at his friend.

Arakaki recrossed his arms and turned to gaze at the frozen tableau on the mats once more. Then he took a deep sniff of a breath that conveyed a subtle disgust with everything he saw. "Yes. I've seen enough. Hyuuga is pathetically weak on defense, no matter how offensive he may be. He will not be assigned field missions until he improves." He turned to leave, brushing past Genma on his way to the door. "You've certainly stuck your neck out for your friends, Shiranui. I hope they're the sort who would do the same for you. Hyuuga," he added, raising his voice. "I suggest you find someone to teach you how to block and dodge. Your retest will be in two weeks." And with that, he left.

Genma stared a moment more in stunned silence, before crossing over to Raidou and Haruichi. "OK, what the fuck was that all about?"

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Good question, thought Raidou, after a moment to take in the fact they'd all apparently gotten out alive. Mostly I seem to have lost my mind. He turned to give Genma a look, expression shocked enough to be completely blank. "Tell me I didn't just say that to Arakaki?"

Forget Haruichi selling his organs on the black market, Arakaki would have him too busy running cannon-fodder missions for the Hyuuga to get near him. Or rookie missions. Raidou winced. He hated running rookie missions; they always went belly up in some spectacular fashion.

Speaking of which...

Raidou let go of Haruichi's wrists and pushed himself to one side, turning his pin to a crouch as he kneeled next to the medic-turned-punching-bag. The spar hadn't lasted particularly long, but Haruichi had taken some fairly decent hits -- mostly from the wall and the floor, but at least two from Raidou's own fists. Only Arakaki knew how many blows he'd scored, Raidou rather doubted Haruichi had been taking the time to count.

Well, unless he had plans to find some way to make a return on each hit, but that spoke of a serious death wish even Haruichi probably didn't have.

Come over here and say that you giraffe-limbed bastard!

Probably.

Raidou put a hand on the medic's shoulder and turned him neatly on his back. The fact that he was still conscious made for a good start, though Hyuuga eyes made it a serious problem if you wanted to check pupil dilation. Raidou weighed the chances of Haruichi being concussed and decided they were fairly positive.

Definitely going to the special hell.

"You still with us, kid?" Raidou asked, as he ran a quick hand down each of Haruichi's limbs, looking him over for broken bones.

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There was no way to snap at Raidou that he was not a kid without it sounding ruefully petulant, so Haruichi managed to restrain himself. "I'm fine," he hissed through clenched back teeth, blinking back his enhanced vision painfully and willing himself to move. The ringing in his head had died down enough to let him concentrate on the sounds around him by this point, which meant that as he stubbornly propped himself up to sitting and knocked Raidou's hands away he got something of a surprise to find himself looking up at Genma.

Oh gods give him strength, this was just unneccessary. He'd learned his lesson! Next time he'd just bite Arakaki straight out, or jyuuken him in the kidneys no matter what he said - he didn't need it hammered home with the appearance of one Shiranui Genma.

Best act like the room didn't seem to be slowly swaying to the left, or as if he could actually feel the bruises smacked all over him. Haruichi was very good at ignoring such things.

"It is entirely your fault this happened," he declared stridently, the effect somewhat corrupted by the way his eyes were drifting in and out of focus... and by how when he pointed at where he thought Genma was he was actually pointing half a foot to the left.

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Genma shot a hand out to steady Haruichi, catching him by the shoulder, and glancing behind him to see who, exactly, Haruichi was accusing of having caused his current predicament. "Whose fault?"

There was no-one there. In fact the only person Haruichi could possibly meant was...

"Mine? How is this my fault?" He pressed a cautious hand to Haruichi's skull and frowned. "I don't know if you've got a skull fracture or just a nice little goose egg here, Sensei, but you're definitely concussed."

He gave Raidou a look that conveyed a combination of puzzlement and disappointed annoyance. "Why the hell did you just beat the shit out of Haruichi? He's hardly in your league. And what the hell was going on with Arakaki?"

There had to be some answer in there, somewhere. Haruichi was an annoying bastard at times, but you just didn't beat up on medics no matter how much they pissed you off. They were the ones who were going to piece you back together after your next injury, give you an injection for that "rash" you caught on your mission to Rain, and certify you fit to take your next mission, after all.

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If looks could kill Raidou would have been a charred carbon smear three times already just in the last hour. Four if you counted the glare Touji had given him before he'd made the man chew mat. He permitted himself the luxury of a very small sigh and put a hand on Haruichi's other shoulder to help steady the swaying medic, holding up his spare hand to ward of Genma's soon-to-be-wrath. "Firstly, I didn't beat the shit out of him. I landed... three, maybe four blows--if you don't count the pin--and one of those he dodged into." Which was a memory Raidou was probably going to treasure when this was all over and done with. It wasn't nice, but it was definitely comedy gold. "Most of his bruises are Arakaki's work, which brings me to my second point. I think medic-for-brains here said something or hacked someone off enough to get the captain's full thundery outrage on his ass in the shape of a training exercise. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

He was not going to tell Genma about Touji. And Haruichi was definitely not. Not if he wanted to make it to hospital with all his currently unbroken limbs still attached, anyway.

Raidou considered that and relented. He'd just drop Haruichi on his head, which would possibly have the pleasant side effect of knocking some sense into his skull.

He regarded the Hyuuga in question for a short moment, and then slid that spare hand carefully under Haruichi's knees. It was the work of a single easy movement to get to his feet and shift Haruichi into a simple cradle hold. Compared to Raidou he weighed the bare edge of nothing. "You need to eat more, kid," Raidou told him, with a little 'c'mon' jerk of his head at Genma. "Let's get you checked out before you bleed to death on the inside and get us all in trouble. Hate to see you kick it on your first day back."

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Proud, prickly-tempered bastard that he was, Haruichi did not approve in the slightest of being talked over and being carted around like a sack of flour, nor did he approve of the way his brain felt like it was trying to crawl out of his skull and seek out pastures new. Didn't it realize he was in ANBU now? This was the pasture new, the future prospect, and his purpose and function for the next however many years. There was no getting out, he had a job to do and people who needed him to do it. Even if they pissed him off so almightily that he genuinely considered whacking Raidou in the jaw and was only dissuaded by the fact he couldn't even work out if his hands were still connected to his wrists.

"I'm not going to bleed to death," Haruichi snapped muzzily, squinting his eyes shut against the swirling sensation in his head as Raidou walked... somewhere. "I've got work to do. One of you's bound to wander in bleeding all over the carpet, bereftly wailing for someone to make the boo-boos go away... erh." An involuntary wince of pain as one of his ribs finally decided to be pissed with him for getting it stomped on.

"Got work to do..." Haruichi murmurred stubbornly, more to himself than anything else. "...I only got here an hour ago."

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"If it's only been an hour and you already pissed off Arakaki enough he did this to you.." Genma shook his head with a chuckle. "I guess that's how we know it's really you, and not some badly made attempt at infiltrating ANBU HQ."

Genma reached a hand out and touched Haruichi's belly. Still soft, that was a good sign. Probably no internal bleeding then. "He's actually right, Rai, he's probably not gonna bleed to death internally. It's the clot that's forming in his brain from the head injury that will kill him if we let him go back to being a doctor instead of taking him over to be a patient."

He took his hand back and gave Haruichi a slightly apologetic smile. "Sorry sensei, but we prefer you alive, even if you are a pain in the ass. Your work will just have to wait. We'll take our life-threatening injuries to Kanae-sensei until you're back on your feet."

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Raidou rolled his eyes and adjusted his hold slightly. "His brain would be inside his head, correct? Which counts as internal. Which means if he dies of blood loss, or a blood clot, or any sort of intracranial bodily fluid activity, that counts as internal bleeding."

Medics made things so complicated for no good reason.

"But you're not allowed to die," he added, talking in the firm tone of one who would Make That Happen if he had to. "Not until you make it to lunch, at least. Dying in your first hour would really just rank as pathetic." He picked up the pace slightly, keeping Haruichi as steady as humanly possible, and added as an afterthought, "Kid."

Getting someone angry was generally a surefire way of keeping them awake, even through a concussion. And Haruichi was the type to crawl through a mile of broken glass before he'd lie down and take an insult... lying down.

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"That's it," Haruichi muttered, cracking open his white eyes and glaring at Raidou's collar with all the vindictiveness he could muster. "I am not a kid, Namiashi. Forget that again and one day when I'm stuffing your organs back in I'll forget about the surgical niceties and just jam your kidney up your nose."

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"There's the sugarplum we all know and love," said Raidou, perfectly deadpan. "You have such beautiful sweet talk, kiddo. It brings a delighted tear to my eye."

His shirt was quite probably quailing in terror, but Raidou was made of sterner stuff. One half-dead Hyuuga did not a threat make.

"So is it just my kidney you have plans for, or do the rest of my insides get to play, too?"

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"You should probably stop now, Rai, before he jyuukens your spleen. I wouldn't put him past it, even concussed."

Genma put a restraining hand on Haruichi's arm. "Don't do it, Sensei, or I'll have to hurt you. And I really don't want to do that."

Friendships, like everything else in life, had priorities, after all. Actually the last time he'd seen Haruichi, Genma and Raidou hadn't even known each other. That was kind of a shock to realize. In six short months Raidou had managed to crowd out every other friendship Genma had. Almost like a new lover would. He looked up at his strong-jawed friend and blinked.

There was something there that bore a little thought. Maybe a lot of it.

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Haruichi hissed like a snake in a basket... which had just been poked with a stick. Genma intervened with his cursed diplomacy before Haruichi could assure Raidou that oh yes, he could rest assured his medic was writing up a veritable dancecard for the rest of his organs. So the medic instead made a valiant attempt at whacking Raidou in his smug maw. Which might have worked, had he even the slightest idea of which way was up. And his elbow hadn't mutinied.

"Screw it. I don't have the motor-skills to smack him right now." He settled for propping his arm up, wavering alarmingly in the air but hand more or less parallel to target. "Genma, go and bash his face into my palm."

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Raidou nodded to the chuunin manning the main desk as they passed, and ducked to avoid an errant blow to his nose. The small, automatic flinch as Haruichi's hand waved near his cheek was both unwanted and annoying. Reflex.

Next time he ended up lugging half-pint Hyuuga around, he'd make a point of wearing his mask.

"Quit that," he told Haruichi, resisting the urge to jog him slightly. "Or I'll throw you over my shoulder instead. The world is much less fun when viewed upside-down." He wouldn't do anything of the sort with Haruichi's concussion presenting a risk, but sometimes just issuing a threat won you the battle.

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"You want me to take him?" Genma offered. "Is he being a fussy baby?" He laughed at his own joke, and kept a sharp eye on Haruichi's hand and Raidou's reaction to it. Yeah not ideal.

"Don't be an ass, Haruichi," he said, and grabbed for the flailing arm. "I know it's your natural state, but try to remember that people are trying to help you?"

He was sure he'd heard almost those exact same words out of Haruichi's mouth directed at a combative patient at some point in the past. Maybe even at himself.

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Genma may indeed have heard Haruichi say something along those lines before, but it wouldn't have made the slightest difference. Haruichi, after all, was all for the benefits of hipocrasy when applied to his own case. He was a Hyuuga after all, some things were just genetic.

But whatever the case, it turned out Genma never even got to grab Haruichi's arm, which flopped right down onto his own chest (his elbow dinging his ribs once more) as his brain-body coordination finally decided to shove this for a game of silly buggers. His brain-snark reflex (as ever, nigh-unstoppable) had a very snappish retort in his throat aimed at Genma, Raidou, and the world at large but somehow, for once in his life, it never got to air.

Becuase he realized just then he was passing out, and all the thought in a flash was that Hoshi couldn't--

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That wasn't good.

Raidou stopped long enough to make sure Haruichi still had a pulse and hadn't blown a pupil--clot equaled stroke equaled bad news--and then tightened his grip again, turning his fast walk into a loping run. It was a long-distance run, designed to eat the distance and jog his passenger as little as possible. A glance was all he needed to confirm Genma was at his shoulder, and then he leapt up to the rooftops. A quicker way to travel without the civilian traffic.

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"He's out?" The answer was plain. Not a good sign, though not an unexpected one. If they hadn't been so close to the hospital Genma would have cast a healing jutsu to reduce the swelling in Haruichi's brain. As a field medic, he was more than qualified to render first aid for a head injury. But they were close to the hospital, and there were definitely people there more capable of dealing with whatever was going wrong inside Haruichi's skull than Genma was. Instead he paced Raidou, getting ahead of him as they reached the hospital, so he could go in and explain to the clerk at the front desk what the emergency was, while Raidou handed Haruichi over to a team of medics with a gurney.

They didn't look particularly impressed to have one of their own brought in by two ANBU. Shooting glares at both men, they whisked their patient away behind closed doors, leaving Genma and Raidou to wait like all the other anxious friends and family of the injured shinobi and civilians inside.

"Well. That was fucked up. Want to get some fabulous hospital cafeteria coffee?" There was no question they were staying until they heard some good news. And there had better goddamned be good news.

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Considering Haruichi was the second unconscious ninja Raidou had delivered to the medic's care in the last hour, he wasn't terribly surprised they weren't pleased to see him.

At this rate he was going to get a reputation.

Raidou sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the beginnings of a tension headache. A rare thing for him, but given the day he was having, not completely unexpected. Compared to the headache Haruichi was likely to wake up with--and he would wake up, dammit, Raidou wasn't ready for that special hell--it barely ranked a 0.2

"You have no idea," he grumbled. "Coffee sounds good."

He still needed to go volunteer for that mission. Oh hell.

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