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Jet froze, ears straining to pick out any movement in the trees around him. Even after all this time, the sounds of fighting in the forest was still less natural to him than a back alley brawl; the relative quiet around him told him nothing about what was going on.

Until a crack sounded from the bushes a few meters away.

He spun, bringing is gun to bear and cursing his inability to use his accelerator right then, but he could already see the muzzle of a rifle aiming straight at him and—

A body slammed into his, sending him sprawling across the forest floor. Joe crouched over him, already firing at the shooter.  He stopped after a few shots and peered into the underbrush. “I think he’s gone. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Jet sat up and glanced over at the blue paint dripping down the tree that had been behind him – Pyunma’s paint color, no wonder he hadn’t heard him coming – and grinned. “My hero.”

Joe grinned back and leaned down to bump his helmet’s face plate against Jet’s in lieu of a kiss. “I almost lost you. You’d better stick close to me.”

Movement over Joe’s shoulder caught Jet’s eye; he whipped his gun up and fired before he quite processed it, and cursing echoed through the trees as his shot hit true. “Maybe you’d better stick close to me.”

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