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“This is ridiculous. Ten years of military service just to be humiliated like this.” Roadblock grumbled, tugging at the little black bowtie around his neck.
You grinned at him, adjusting your own formal wear, "I'd take this circus over getting shot at for the fifth time this week.”
Lady Jaye huffed beside you, “Knowing the commander, you probably will be shot at anyway.”
The three of you continued down the hall until your feet hit polished floors. In front of your unit stood a massive crowd, all dressed in formal party attire. TVs recently (and improperly) mounted throughout the vast hall all played the same news channel.
“We are just receiving confirmation that the last of the guests have arrived in the historic Blackpool Tower ballroom, where the hostages are being kept.” A brunette woman on the screen explained, “For those of you who are just now joining us, the terrorist organization known as Cobra has threatened nuclear devastation on every known nation. Several cobra missiles have been sighted throughout every continent, each prepared to launch at a moment's notice.”
Lady Jaye sighed as she led you and Roadblock through the panicking crowd, “Just another day on the job.”
“Cobra knows fear tactics, that's for sure.” Roadblock gritted his teeth as they passed by another TV.
“At least tonight won't be boring.” You shrugged.
“Under the threat of a nuclear winter, the Cobra leader, only known as the Cobra Commander, has demanded that a government official from every nation arrive at the historical Blackpool Tower ballroom by 9 PM tonight. Formal dress code required.” The newswoman continues. “Presidents, senators, generals, and lawmakers from every country have all cooperated with these demands under Cobra Commander's promise that none of these officials will be harmed. But what exactly is this event? That is the question on everyone's mind. While no official sources have confirmed the occasion, certain inside sources claim that it is-”
“My Birthday party!” a sudden voice raged over the speakers as the man himself took center stage, literally.
“Are you fucking kidding me-” Roadblock started, but his voice was quickly masked by the surrounding crowd's outbreak of confusion.
Cobra Commander stood atop the stage at the front of the ballroom, a group of dormant musicians preparing for a performance behind him. He donned a black uniform adorned with crimson and gold threading. His trademark faceless helm was secured over his head, though the headpiece that usually sat atop it was missing.
“Someone's dressed to impress.” You mumble, eyes scanning up and down his form. You were too far away to look for weapons, but from what you could tell, he was unarmed.
“What?” Duke's voice sounded in your hidden earpiece, “Is he expecting a hot date?”
That earned a giggle from Lady Jaye, but nobody was able to respond as the commander began to speak once more.
“Ah what a joyousss event.” He dramatically pointed his golden cobra-shaped staff at the crowd, many of whom gasped and fell to the floor with fear as he did so. “It's sssssuch a tremendous honor to be here with me, issssn't it?”
“You threatened to bomb my country.” A Mexican woman deadpanned beside you.
“Yesss, well-” The commander was cut off by a tall Indian man who stood a few feet from the stage.
“You kidnapped me. From my house! Then forced me to wear a suit!” He complained.
So, not everyone cooperated with Cobra. Looks like they just started grabbing whoever looked important from countries that didn't comply, you noted to yourself.
“Well, your leader refu-” the commander tried again.
“You hijacked my cruise and sailed me to the UK!” An old Korean man yelled, “I’m not even in office anymore! I retired seven years ago!”
Oh, that's embarrassing.
“Believe it or not, you weren't my first ch-”
“Oi! I don't have nuthin to do with the British government!” A woman yelled out, “I work at a bloody car wash!”
Cobra grunts really weren't the brightest, huh? You eyed the blue-uniformed men who patrolled the upper seating above the hall.
“Shut up!” The commander suddenly boomed, unhooking a pistol from his belt and firing twice at the ceiling, silencing the crowd.
Oh shit.
“He's armed.” You whispered with a frown.
“Were you able to sneak anything past the guards?” Duke asked. Lady Jaye and Roadblock both muttered No.
“Just a knife in my shoe, I already moved it to my pocket.” You answered. It wasn't a particularly big knife, but it would do in a pinch.
“Okay, good. Just sit tight and keep the commander distracted. We’re almost done disarming the missiles.” Duke assured you. “It just takes time; we have to be stealthy, no doubt the commander will launch them the second he suspects what we are doing.”
“Copy that.” You nodded. Snake-Eyes and Tunnel-Rat, please hurry.
With a dramatic sigh, Cobra Commander sheathed his weapon and stood up straight, though his shoulders still shook. “Now, let's be clear, your presence with me here today is an honor. Your names will be the ones written in history books when they speak my name. For you all are not only present for my 35th birthday-”
“I thought he was like 60.” Someone said just a bit too loudly somewhere in the crowd.
“Who sssssaid that!” The commander hissed, charging to the edge of the stage and scanning the crowd. “How dare you!”
“Commander, don't get distracted.” Destro made his appearance, seemingly out of nowhere, striding out onto the stage and taking the commander by the arm. “Now, now, I understand this has been an inconvenience for some-”
“I’m missing my daughter's 5th birthday party for this.” A Canadian man yelled out.
“SSSssso?” Cobra Commander snapped, “Big deal! My father never came to any of MY birthday partiesss.”
Lady Jaye groaned and rubbed her temples as you and Roadblock began turning blue in the face in an attempt to hold in your laughter. You couldn't help a few snorts that were luckily overshadowed by Destro's voice.
“Dancing! Yes, we are in one of the most iconic ballrooms in the world!” The metal-faced man quickly announced, pushing Cobra Commander aside. “So to celebrate our dear Cobra Commander's birthday, we shall all dance for-” He checked a small device in his hand, “ the next two hours, thirty-seven minutes and three seconds!”
You and your fellow Joes all exchanged concerned looks.
Destro turned to the performers and was about to gesture to them to begin, but Cobra Commander halted him. “No! Wait!”
There was a definite pause throughout the room. You and the two other soldiers straightened up, eyes darting between the Cobra Grunts lined at the ballroom's edges. You could see Lady Jaye tense from the corner of your eye. Even unarmed, the three of you could cause quite a bit of damage. But with civilians here, your options were severely limited.
Cobra Commander lifted his staff and dragged it along the outline of the room, “I invited G.I. Joe. Where are they?”
The three of you paused before Roadblock mumbled into the line, “The Commander is demanding to see us. Close the channel.”
The faint line of static in your ear snapped off as you began to weave through the crowd, your comrades at your sides. When you finally emerged in front of the steps leading up to the stage, Cobra Commander spoke, “Where are the othersss?”
“You never specified who to send.” Lady Jaye started cooly, smoothening the fabric of her blue dress with her thumb. “Or how many Joes you wanted”
“I wanted all of you here.” His voice dropped to a deep snarl before he let out a huff and continued in his usual haughty tone, “Never mind that. You.”
That tacky cobra staff was now pressed to your soft throat. Roadblock's eyes widened, and his whole body seemed to puff up in protest. Lady Jaye sent him a warning glare.
“I remember you.” The commander stepped down from the stage, keeping his staff on your neck and pressing deeper as he descended. “You shot me off a moving tank.”
In your defense, you were just trying to shoot him in the head, then his helmet took the blow and instead just knocked him off balance. “I’m… sorry?”
Cobra Commander stood in front of you, silent as the staff's fangs dug into your flesh.
Ok, so turns out stupid helmet can be pretty intimidating when it's a few inches from your face and mirroring your nervous expression.
Then the staff was removed from your throat, though its pointed fangs scraped against you as it did so. The commander tossed the item to Destro before offering his gloved hand, “May I have this dancccce?”
The band took that as a signal and finally began to play, flooding the chamber with music. The crowd seemed hesitant until Cobra grunts began to move in, pressing their guns into the stationary civilians. The threat was clear.
Narrowing your eyes, you placed your palm above his and allowed him to pull you against his chest and place a hand on your back. The smell of leather and shoe polish suffocated your senses as the commander slowly began to waltz, leaving you to stumble behind.
Who the hell just casually knows ballroom dances?! Maybe he really is 60…
Seeing your example, Lady Jaye and Roadblock joined hands and began to dance. The rest of the crowd quickly did the same. Soon, the whole room was alive with sounds and movement as the Cobra grunts eased up and returned to their post.
You kept your eyes down on the Commander's shoes, trying to mimic his movements but only succeeding in tripping over yourself. His grip on your back tightened, and he pulled you close enough that you were touching chest to chest. Whether this was intimidation or a way to keep you from falling, you weren't sure.
“Where did you learn to danccce?” He didn't sound impressed.
"Unfortunately, military schools put more focus on useless things like bomb defusing and neglected the arts.” you responded dryly as you searched for your squadmates in a mass of bodies.
“In my homeland, we teach the sssocial arts to our children from birth.” He bragged as he swayed, dipping you before pulling back up. You perked up at his words, immediately zeroing in on the commander. The identity and origin of Cobra Commander were a complete mystery to the UN and American military. The commander took great care in covering his face, and all other known pieces of his identity were untraceable. Like he was just spat out of the earth one day.
“In America, they just stick kids in front of the TV and call it a day.” You shrugged coyly. You didn't want to interrogate the commander directly, but if you could collect enough details from him, it could prove beneficial in tracking down his true identity. “How old were you when you learned to dance?”
“I don't remember.” He dismissed briskly. So much for that.
Your gaze drifted away as you lost interest, landing on Lady Jaye, who glided gracefully across the floor in a foxtrot dance. Roadblock wasn't far behind. Okay, apparently, you were the only Joe who couldn't dance. That was a bit embarrassing.
“You’re ruining my party.” The commander snapped as you tripped over his ankle for what must have been the fifth time.
“Why did you even make me dance with you then?” You snap back, tightening your grip on his back and digging your nails into him.
“Theress a ssssaying, ‘He who can join handsss with his enemy is better than he who cannot.’”
“Literally who the fuck said that?”
“Me. Just now.”
You gave him an unamused look that was abruptly cut off as you stumbled forward, landing on the commander. Face pressed into his shoulder, you plant your feet firmly on the ground, forcing Cobra Commander to cease his movements. The two of you stood stationary off to the side of the ballroom. Your hands pulled away from his and folded over each other. You were officially done with this.
Roadblock was right. I really should've stuck with shooting this guy.
You didn't care that you literally were hiding your burning face against a literal crime boss. You were flustered, embarrassed, and the stress of a possible nuclear winter finally seemed to catch up with you.
“You tried to kill me that day, didn't you?” The commander's voice rumbled through his chest. With one ear pressed against his form, you could hear the inner workings of his body as he spoke. His heart barely pumped at a snail's pace while what you were expecting to be the steady rise and fall of breathing was instead a rapid drum of airflow in and out.
It was… unnatural, inhuman. A deep instinct in the back of your mind flared in warning, demanding you turn tail and flee. It scared you.
“Yes.” was all you could say.
“Were you disssappointed when you ssaw I was alive?” He tilted his head, but you refused to look up into that damn mask.
“No. I expected it, I guess.” You shrugged, “I mean, the whole world has thrown everything at you, and like an oversized roach, you just keep going. Sometimes I wonder if you're even human.”
“I can ssshow you.”
Your head instantly shot up to look at him. “What?”
“How to dancce.” He clarified, backing away a few steps before offering his hand once more. “Sso you'll stop ruining my party by dancccing like a baby deer in a houssse fire.”
“...What?” The fuck.
There was a jagged tilt of his head, which you assumed was a rather dramatic eyeroll before he took your hands by force, “Alright, firsst we will focus on your feet. We will be making a sssquare. Now keep your left foot fluid, but keep your right on the ground.” Hesitantly, you did as instructed. “Good, take a sstep forward with your left, then bring your body over here.”
Simple enough. The commander held your waist as you gripped his arms. The two of you trained your gazes down on the ground to watch your feet. “Alright. Did it.”
“Now you need to go to the ssside, use your right. Now join it with your left.” You made sure to be mindful of his helmet as you moved along with him. You had seen too many rash soldiers spend weeks in the hospital after a zap from that thing. “Now we are going to ssstep back. Now your right foot is fluid, use it to sstep back, then join it with your left.”
Your grip on him tightened as you did as he instructed, “Just two more steps, right?”
“Think you can manage that?” He asked with clear condescension that made your blood boil.
In two quick movements, you performed the last steps and completed the square. Cobra Commander quietly watched as you repeated the foot movements a few more times. “Sssso you can obey basssic commandsss. Congratulationsss.”
You were about to make a witty comeback when a burst of static sounded in your ear. “We just took out the last missile. UN troops have the building surrounded. Lady Jaye says you're with the commander now. Try and get him alone. Destro has already fled. If the commander is out of the way, then Cobra troops will be too unorganized to fight back.” Duke's voice was quick to cut out after his orders.
“Tell me, Commander, have you been up in the tower yet?” You asked as soon as the idea came to mind. Your hands casually slid off of him to subtly finger the knife in your pocket.
The commander tilted his head before replying, “No… I have not. Why do you ask?”
“It's a historical monument. A symbol of art and refinery commander.” You shrugged, “I simply assumed a man of your esteemed taste would have already taken the tour.”
Cobra Commander seemed to puff up, voice stuttering before he finally hissed out, “Of course I've been up there! I was being sarcastic, you little fool! Here, I'll show you the way myself.”
You had to bite your lip to hide the smile as Cobra Commander gripped your hand and began leading you out of the ballroom. Cobra Grunts practically dived out of your way when they saw the Commander stomping towards them.
Pretending not to notice the commander read every map on the wall, you took a few moments to reflect on the night. Despite everything, it was fun. Anxiety-inducing and embarrassing, yes, but who else can go back to base and say they took dance lessons from Cobra Commander?
After a few moments of Cobra Commander leading you up and down the same corridors, the two of you entered an elevator. As the metal box began its ascent, you leaned against the back wall, “You never answered me, you know.”
“Anssswer what?” Cobra Commander hissed from the opposite wall.
“Why did you ask me to dance?” You repeated for the second time that night.
Cobra Commander was silent for a few floors until he finally answered, “Your headshot ability impresses me.”
You barked out a laugh. You weren't sure what you had expected, but it definitely wasn't that. “I’m flattered, Commander.”
The elevator opened with a ding to reveal a gorgeous night skyline. Eyes wide, you stepped out into the glass room. Stars twinkled and shot across the sky as the moon watched overhead.
A weight pressed onto your shoulder, and when you turned to look, you nearly jumped out of your skin. The Cobra commander was resting his head on you from behind. Not just that, his helmet was touching your bare skin.
“Don't look so scared. It's off.” As if reading your mind, he spoke. Why the hell had he turned off his main defense while alone with an enemy soldier?
Then that's when it hit you. Holy fuck, he has a crush on me. I shot him in the head, and now he's in love. Wow.
Duke's voice sounded in your ear once more, “Moving in. Keep him away for at least five more minutes.”
Lowering your hands down to your sides, you reach backwards and grab his arms. Gently, you bring them up to your stomach. Squeezing them, you twirled to face him, “May I have this dance, Commander?”