Cigarette
Jean stands near Roy. Both are waiting in an isolated alley for something to happen.
'Havoc?'
'Yes, Colonel?'
'Give me a cigarette.'
Mild surprise etches itself into Jean's face, yet he complies. Roy lights the end with a snap of his fingers. An intake of smoke.
He does not cough as new smokers usually do.
'Colonel for how long have you-'
'Smoked? A long time, Havoc,' he runs a hand through his hair, sighing. 'Nasty habit you pick up as a dog of the military.'