Buying groceries was something South both loved and hated. The source of these emotions was the same. It was so domestic.
The fact that the question of which can of tomato sauce to buy was an important part of her day made South long for the thrill of a firefight, for the rush she got from leaping out of an airship, and the excitement of never knowing what the next day would hold.
She studied the two cans of tomato sauce in her hands with a look of disgust on her face. One's label read 'Herbs and Spices', while the other's boasted 'Onions and Garlic'.
Why couldn't the weekly trip to the grocery store be a weekly mission, where the most important target wasn't arriving at the buy-one-get-one peanut butter before they were all gone? Each time she rounded the corner of an aisle with her cart, couldn't she be more worried about finding enemy targets around the corner, rather than being careful not to bump into an old lady puttering around with her own cart? Why couldn't the objects in her hands be the choice between the appropriate type of grenade to use against a target, rather than choosing the right taste for the lasagna she was making?
Why did domestic life have to be so boring?
Shaking her head at that train of thought, she decided on the sauce with the herbs and spices. She plopped that can into her cart and returned the other to the shelf.
South tried to work up some excitement for the cooking she'd be doing that night but failed miserably. As she turned her cart around she heard someone call her name.
"South? Is that you?"
Part of her dreaded the sound of that voice. It wasn't fair for her to want to ignore the speaker and hurry away. Not after she had just been reminiscing about the thrill of her old life. For all that she missed the rush and excitement, she still hadn't come to peace with all of her actions in the program, or with all of her fellow agents.
But with time away from combat her reaction time had slowed and before she could make her escape she'd been cornered.
"It's been awhile," said the shorter, brown haired woman.
South forced her face into a smile. She shouldn't be like this. Connie's voice was warm, and she should have been equally happy to see her, but she just couldn't muster up the proper emotions. She no longer felt anger or resentment like she would have even just a year ago, but she was still far from easily accepting everyone's friendship.
"Since York and Carolina's wedding I think," South replied, remembering the last time she had been forced to get together with the rest of the former Freelancers. "How have you been?"
"Good," Connie nodded, her smile broadening. "Real good actually."
She did look good. Her smile came easy, and her entire face seemed to glow, radiating a peace and joy South knew was out of her own reach. Despite the fact that South still wasn't ready to be all 'kumbaya' with the other Freelancers, it was nice to see her this happy.
The source of Connie's happiness became apparent when South caught the sight of something glittering on her right hand.
Pointing at the ring on Connie's finger, South asked wryly, "Wash finally get the balls to ask the big question?"
Connie blushed a deep rough. "Stumbled over it is more accurate, but yes. We're only in the planning stages, but of course you'll be invited to the wedding."
"Wouldn't miss it," South replied, and this time it was a little easier for her to put friendliness into her voice.
"I'm glad," Connie replied, and then glanced distractedly down at her own cart. "It was nice seeing you, but I really have to get going."
"Of course, me too," South nodded, and stepped away. "See you around."
Pushing her cart further along the aisle, the smile that had graced her face when talking with Connie remained, but it was no longer forced. She had been reminded of the reason she also loved the monotonous act of grocery shopping.
After going through hell and back as part of a top secret military organization, ran by a man so driven he could only be called insane, the fact that she could ever again do something so normal as shop for groceries was nothing short of a miracle. The fact that some of them could find true happiness in others, like Connie and Wash, went far beyond miraculous.
Maybe, just maybe, she'd get there one day too.
But as for right now she needed to pick up a box of lasagna noodles and get ready to cook supper. It was something so domestically boring it thrilled her like preparing for a new mission.
A/N- I hope you all liked this one as well. I know it's of a very different strain than the first piece, but I also wanted to play around with the everyday acts that the Freelancers would have performed had they all made it out of the program.
As always I'd love to hear what you thought of it. I love constructive criticism (:
