A/N: 1. This piece isn't canon, but it's not really AU either. I suppose it falls neatly into that "slight AU" category, what with the introduction of another character and Hobbes having a house. 2. I didn't tag this as Romance for a reason. Unfortunately, boiling sexual tension is not a genre choice. 3. This is the first time in more than a decade I've named a character Sarah (my own name). That's nothing to read into, though. 4. I have not finished writing this (I'm a little more than half way) and I'm breaking my own rule starting to post chapters before the entire work is complete. I wanted this to be up and running before the season finale next week in case the archive dies.

Disclaimer: the 2009 remake of V belongs to Kenneth Johnson, and I make no profit from the scribbling of this work

Claimer: Sarah, all associated back story, and play of events involving her, are mine

Warnings (entire work, not chapter by chapter): language, violence, sexuality, mild adult content

Any War but This One
One: Hobbes gets more than he bargained for at a routine weapons pick up.

Hobbes propped his elbow on the open window's edge and rested his cheek in his palm so he could look into the SUV's side mirror from a new angle. The view still showed nothing but empty clearing and trees. Garrick never used to run late.

When the familiar rusting green pick up did finally rattle onto the gravel behind him, he flung his door open and hollered, "Garrick Finnegan, y'old geezer, and here I was beginning to think in your old age you'd forgotten where this place was." In reality, the man being teased was only three years Hobbes senior, but Hobbes enjoyed ribbing him anyway. He opened his mouth to add another jab about assisted living facilities, but shut it abruptly when the truck's driver side door opened.

Standing something like five six in leather boots, dark jeans that fit like a second skin, and a snug maroon top, she was most certainly not the salt and pepper haired, slightly balding, and very beer gutted Garrick. She pushed a hand through her hair to get the tousled brown locks out of her face and tossed her motorcycle jacket back into the car.

"Well hello… Not that I mind the change of scenery," Hobbes very deliberately eyed the girl from feet to head, "But where's Garrick?"

She turned to walk around to the back of the truck and answered over her shoulder, "If Dad knew you looked at me like that, he'd have you shot." Hobbes heard the creak of her opening the bed.

He jogged around to join her behind the pick up, swallowing and choking on any future lewd remarks he might have made. "Sarah?"

She hauled out a five-foot metal suitcase and set it on the ground without looking at him.

"Sarah… shit – "

She squatted beside the case to unhook the latches.

"I'm sorry. I didn't – "

"Recognize me?" Tossing her hair out of her face, she looked up at him and grinned.

"Brat."

"How could I really expect you to, hmm? How many years 's it been?" She flipped open the heavy lid.

"I dunno… how old are ya now?" He got down beside her.

Sarah eyed him sidelong. "It's rude to ask a lady her age."

"You weren't a lady last I saw you. Playing in the dirt. Making mud pies."

Sarah's cheeks and the bridge of her nose reddened. "I was six!" she protested. "And I did not make mud pies…"

"Ah… that's right." Hobbes tipped his head back and tapped his chin, feigning to be struggling to remember. "It was a misshapen apple pie – much tastier than mud, those – and I believe it had a ring stuck in the middle. After I nearly choked on it, you asked me to marry you."

Sarah very intently studied the rocket launcher in its foam molding and grumbled, "Shuttup." In what Hobbes was certain was a nervous habit, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "This is the biggest one we could get. It's got four missiles." She touched each one reverently. "Also got your six assault rifles, plus ammunition, and the three RPGs you wanted, extra grenades of course." She braced an elbow on her knee and studied Hobbes intently. "Dad says this is an expensive haul for you lately, Kyle. The hell are you up to?"

"I'm sure you know the drill. 'F I told ya that, I'd have ta kill you," he answered with a wink and a crooked smile, reaching into his back pocket. He took out a wad of rubber-banded cash and handed it to Sarah.

She took it and absently flipped through the bills before tucking them in her own back pocket, though Hobbes wasn't sure how the thick folds of money fit. "Need help getting it all in your car?"

"Need? Nah. But you're welcome to gimme hand if ya want."

Sarah closed the rocket launcher's case with a snort and a shake of her head then stood to get more cases out of the truck's bed.

Loading the entire arsenal into the trunk and backseat of Hobbes' SUV was a fifteen minute ordeal that left Sarah embarrassingly out of breath and wiping her palms on her jeans. Hobbes hadn't broken a sweat.

"Hey, thanks, kid," he said, closing the hatch, "And tell your old man, thanks, too."

"Yeah." Sarah gulped another breath. "Of course." She turned back to her truck.

She was opening the driver's side door when Hobbes called, "Sarah?"

She poked her head around the door's frame. "Yeah?"

"Come back to my place. Tell me about how you and your dad have been over something to drink."

Sarah paused, pushed her hair back from her face, and nodded. "Sure. Lead the way."

A/N: Don't let this archive die! Please keep reading and writing V! P.S. next chapter up later tonight. a long argument with my beta reader later, I've decided the dialogue needs work.