<em>'Damn that marine outfit!  Wish she'd get back into her tights ... Wonder if she'd let me help her change? ....'</em><br/><br/>Oscar's grip on his arm roused J.D. from the welcome but brief distraction of watching Rachel's behind as she went off after the stranger.  He nodded and eyed the thick greenery in the distance while listening to Oscar's instructions.  The confidence in the older man's voice reassured him and helped still the lingering twitches in his belly.<br/><br/>The mention of his codename made him wince -- he found the full version kind of unweildy for practical use, but he hadn't yet persuaded his teammates to use the shortened form all the time.<strong>"'Happy''s fine, boss,"</strong>he muttered, keeping his voice low instinctively, for no apparent reason.<strong>"'Happy Trails' is for the headlines and press releases, you know?  <br/><br/>"I should be able to disarm anyone I find before they know what's happening.  The only risk is if the gun's primed and aimed already, with his finger on the trigger, it could slip and discharge a round when I take it off him.  But, nothing you guys couldn't handle ... Um, right?"</strong><br/><br/>The last statement came out sounding a bit uncertain:  he knew the others each had some degree of imperviousness to harm, but he wasn't so sure if every inch of them could take a rifle shot -- what if the guy was aiming for their eyes, for example?  It was the kind of detail Happy wished he'd paid closer attention to during all those months of interminable, dull briefings with Sweet Jane and the Major ... but how was he supposed to listen to technical lectures with hotties like Jane and Rach in the room?  (J.D. had a wide range of nicknames for his associates, depending on his mood, but he mostly kept them to himself.  He wasn't about to try calling Athena "Rach" to her face, at least not until he got to know her better.  Many of his nicknames were a lot less polite than that, especially for the Major, but --<em>'Fuck, that poor guy,'</em>the youngster thought, remembering Welles's current state.<em>'He was full of shit most of the time, but he still deserved better than that.'</em>All this death and danger was heady stuff for a teenager to deal with.  It made him almost miss the boring training sessions, when he could at least relax and enjoy the pretty sights.)<br/><br/>Happy whipped his mask out of the concealed pocket in his uniform and pulled it snugly over his face, even though he doubted he would need it much under these circumstances.  The full-body shielding built into his hero-costume was necessary to prevent friction-burns at high speeds, but with all the dense foliage and unfamiliar terrain, he didn't figure he could move for more than short stretches at very high speeds.  Still, it didn't hurt to be cautious, and he also liked the "super-badass" effect of being masked in front of his opponents -- that whole "man of mystery" thing.<br/><br/>The creepy percussive pop of Oscar's knuckles sounded in J.D.'s ears just as he burst into motion, leaving nothing but a green after-image behind him, shimmering in the air where he'd just been standing beside Flashcard.