They were in the army and what an army does best is wage war. It was inevitable then that A Company would eventually see action, and see action they did. More than they ever would have liked.

More than anyone deserved, thought Sarge to himself as he watched the 4th of July festivities on TV. He'd been lucky. He'd made it through their tour of duty unscathed and had been honorably discharged as a Sergeant Major, sent off with his medals and commendations to try to make a go of it as a civilian. He and Cookie had opened their own restaurant, he'd found a nice apartment and gotten used to people calling him by his first name, even though he still preferred the moniker 'Sarge.'

Others hadn't been so lucky, and it was those comrades that his thoughts tended to turn to on holidays like the 4th.

The loud bang of fireworks being launched snapped him out of his reverie as an answering thud and the smash of breaking glass were heard from the kitchen. "Shit," he muttered to himself as he pushed himself out of his easy chair and moved quickly to the kitchen. Murmuring calming nonsense he grabbed the paper towels off of the counter and approached the figure huddled under the table.

Beetle hadn't been so lucky. The panic attacks and fear of loud noises and crowds were lasting reminders of the things he'd seen and experienced in the desert and the terrible effect they'd had on the once relaxed and happy-go –lucky young man. Cursing his own stupidity for forgetting about the city's firework display Sarge carefully picked up the shards of glass and sopped up the water before coaxing a shaking Beetle out from under the table.

Knowing that Beetle's anxiety was likely to last until well after the fireworks display ended he hugged the younger man close with one arm and led him to Beetle's bedroom.

Originally Sarge had only rented the two bedroom apartment because it was the first available one he could find that was within walking distance to the restaurant. It had felt so empty after living in barracks for so many years, especially without Otto. Beetle had started off as an occasional houseguest. After they returned to civilian life he had been living with his sister and her family. Using the excuse that Beetle had often invited him home for holiday dinners, Sarge had insisted that Beetle come over every week. It gave Beetle a break from the noise of the three youngest children, gave the Flagstons a bit of respite from their constant worrying over him and gave Sarge the comfort of having another living being in the apartment, one that had experienced the same thing as him. Eventually dinner had become staying over for the night, and eventually that had turned into stays of a couple days or more. Beetle's possessions had slowly accumulated in the guest bedroom until Sarge added his name to the lease and offered him a job as a dishwasher his newly-purchased restaurant.

Despite his concern for the other man, Sarge couldn't help but grin as he maneuvered Beetle into bed. For all that Beetle had resisted adhering to military discipline some of it had eventually rubbed off. Even after a year of living there the room was still very spartan, and the neat, sharp folds of the bedding would have made any hardened sergeant weep for joy. His ruminations on the irony of it all were cut short when a particularly loud bang startled both him and Beetle, who clutched him tightly and pulled him under the covers of the bed with him.

Sarge had never been a very cuddly man, but knowing which memories Beetle was likely reliving he could never refuse to offer whatever comfort was needed. The panic attacks were far fewer than they used to be. The frequent visits to Dr. Bonkus had helped a great deal, but backfires, fireworks and any loud bang are enough to drag Beetle's mind and instincts back to the desert.

As the festivities wound down and the fireworks faded away after their finale Beetle finally began to calm down. Sarge expected him to pull away, to roll back out of bed and go back to what he was doing before his attack, just as he always had done. He was surprised when instead of pulling away Beetle peered at him through his bangs before tentatively pulling him closer and kissing him.

That was new. And hell if it wasn't exactly what Sarge had wanted since their time back at Camp Swampy. He allowed himself to enjoy it for a few seconds before pulling away. Catching the look of hurt that flashed across Beetle's face he placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You sure?" He asked.

Beetle nodded, "want you Sarge. Wanted you for a long time. Just had to get the courage up to act on it."

"God dammit," Sarge muttered to himself, cursing his lack of will power and trying to think of why this was a terrible idea while at the same time leaning in to pull the younger man to him and claim his mouth.

Later that night as they both lay naked under the sheets in Beetle's room, Beetle poked him in in his side. "Stop thinking so much, Sarge. We've practically been married since I moved in. Now we just get the added benefit of sex."

Sarge chuckled and rolled over so he could pull Beetle against him again. And for the first time in months neither dreamt of the desert that night.