Two
Greenspan
Good God, I can't believe that Maureen Reece of all people just called Tom a "damn zoomie". But maybe he had it coming. Shouldn't have called her a jarhead, because even in Maureen there's this deep pride of being a United States Marine, and they just don't like it when someone else calls them by any nickname. Not even their commanding officers.
Anyway, it was her deep satisfaction and conviction at calling him a "damn zoomie" that made me laugh in the end. In all the time I've known her she tried very hard to please him and be the epitome of correctness and politeness when it came to him, but ever since the last mission I get the feeling that there's a wicked and defiant streak inside her that will cause Tom more trouble than he'd like.
"He'll get you back for that, you know." Because if there's one thing Thomas Moore doesn't like it's being cheated out of having the last word.
She shrugs, trying to make light of it, but I'm positive that inside she's already cursing her big mouth. "He can't do more than rip off my head, so what?"
I give her a sardonic grin. "Big words for someone who used to be afraid of her superior officer for the last three months."
She shrugs. "I revised that perception." And I'd love to know why. I mean, okay, probably the fact that she had to walk around in his shoes – so to speak – for a while has helped tremendously, but I wonder what else made her warm up to us. And I wonder about something else. Now a little more serious, I take the seat Tom just vacated and lean on the desk.
"Hey… how are you holding up?" Because, you know, I've had this feeling that at least part of her new levity is a cover for how deeply she's still afflicted by that last mission.
"I'm… I'm doing fine, Laura. Honestly." And I don't believe one word. But I guess that she was on her own for so long now that she has partly forgotten how to open up to other people. I'm pretty sure that the little outbreak before our last mission is something she'd rather forget and never talk about again, but unfortunately I never forget things like that.
"Maureen… I'm asking as your friend, not as your medic or superior." She purses her lips and fiddles around with her red locks. For a while, the only thing she does is rubbing her eyes, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth and displaying all those little signs for nervousness and anxiousness.
Then: "Promise not to tell anyone? Not even the Major?" Yay, progress!
"Especially not the Major." That even prompts a little smile from her, but her eyes are shining wet. Maybe… I shouldn't have made her talk in such a comparatively public place.
"You better." Then she takes a deep breath. "I… I've been better, to put it mildly. But at least I manage to fall asleep for a few hours again. I mean, I keep having these weird dreams and then I always wake up afraid that I may find myself in some other place than my quarters with a weapon in my hand and the… some dead man in front of me. And… sometimes I… I get these… well… bouts of panic that… that there's still something inside of me and that it could still happen again, but… but I guess that'll fade after a while." I know who she keeps seeing. And I also know that I should talk about this with Tom, but I promised her I wouldn't.
"Maybe. But I do think it would be better if you talked to someone professional about this." She wants to protest, but this is far too important to play the good old "It's just a scratch."-game. "The whole thing is not to be taken lightly. Look, Maureen, Tom didn't joke when he said it won't be easy for you. He'll not cut you any slack and he'll want extraordinary performance from you. You can't allow yourself to try and ignore something like this. You have to deal with it and refusing to talk about it is not dealing with it." I hope she realizes how important this is for her. To be honest, I was relieved when O'Neill forced Tom to delay the next survival exercise at the Alpha site, because I'm positive that he has something special prepared for her and I don't think she's ready for it yet. She'll probably not be ready for it until the end of the month at least.
"But… won't the Major… I mean, won't he… lose the little respect for me he's still left?" Ah, so that's what's bugging her. I should have known. Of course she wouldn't lose her fear of not satisfying Tom's expectations, even more so since she still needs to prove she can keep up with us on more than just one mission. I think it's time to out-balance some of the pressure Tom is putting on her.
"Maureen, whatever you think: He won't be disappointed if you let someone professional help you. In fact he'd be relieved he doesn't have to order you to. I know you won't believe me, but… the Tom I know and that no one else gets to see knows how to tell serious issues from simple pretentiousness. And who's very much able to sympathize and empathize." That's probably already too much, but I somehow need to convince her of the fact that Tom is still a human being with a very good heart, no matter how much he tries to pretend he isn't.
She's quiet again, which obviously always happens when she's thinking something through. She really takes her time, and it takes up all my patience not to rush her. I still have to get used to her tendency to sometimes retreat into her shell when she needs to make important decisions. Finally, she takes a deep breath and says: "It won't go away on its own, will it?" I simply shake my head. No. "Do I… do I have to tell the Major I'm seeing a therapist?" Now I'm the one taking a deep breath.
"Yes. Trust me, he won't give you a hard time for that, as much as he likes to grumble about psychiatrists. But if you tell him, he can understand some things better and react differently to them. Tom may be a sensible guy, but he isn't always a sensitive guy. Sometimes you have to hit him over the head with what's bothering you, because otherwise he'd be completely in the dark." In fact, I was forced to recount the then very painful and humiliating way my first boyfriend left me to him before he understood why I didn't find it funny that he was making jokes about me being just too much to handle even for the toughest guy.
She swallows. "Alright. But I'll blame you if it doesn't work out." Ah, the benefits of having another female member on the team. At least one person who isn't a thick-headed SF soldier with a long history of "I just need some aspirin." and "Nothing a can of beer can't cure."
I smile. "Good girl." And there's something else going around in my mind. "Oh, and you aren't honestly living on the base, right?" Now she looks down… and is that a blush in her face?
"Uh, well… you know… living here does have its perks…" I draw up my eyebrow.
"Really? Can't even imagine one of them." She wants to say something, no doubt starting to enumerate some advantages which aren't advantages at all, but since it's futile anyway, I just bulldoze her. "You know, I was about to offer you to move in with me, but since you obviously enjoy living here so much…" Ha! That got her attention, even if she tries to feign total disinterest. "And I mean, I really understand that you don't want to trade those beautiful corridors and the very… erm… functional atmosphere for a room with inconveniently big windows and a totally boring view on the Rockies…" Still trying to hide her interest. "Oh, and of course there's the mess hall. Nothing can compete with that, not even your own kitchen… and three different restaurants around the block." Got her! I knew the mess hall would throw her.
"Look, Laura, that's really nice of you and all… but, you know… the worst part of boot camp was having to share a barrack with that bunch of other girls. I could take the yelling and the mud and the pressure, but I just hated to share a building with a lot of other people." Huh. That really surprises me. But then again… as far as I know she's an only child, and her parents died even before starting boot camp or shortly after that. So I guess she was prone to become a loner.
"Hey, you'll have your own room, I promise. And you'd do me a big favor. My last housemate moved to New York, and the place is growing a little lonely. Plus it's always good when I can share the rent with someone else. You know… we still have lots of time on our hands until tonight… what about at least having a look at the place?" She frowns.
"What… now?" I can't resist rolling my eyes.
"No, next week. Of course now. It's just half an hour's drive from here, and I need to get there anyway. So? Interested in some change of scenery?" She looks at her texts and around her with a skeptic expression on her face. Then she sighs dramatically.
"Do I have any other chance?" Grinning I shake my head. "Thought so. Should we tell the Major?" Still grinning I shake my head again. Let Tom wrack his brains about where we went. Even he can use a little intellectual exercise now and then. "Well… but I'll always blame you if he gets off on us for that. Anyway… let's go, huh?" Yay, I just got myself a new housemate. She doesn't know it yet, but she'll say yes, I can feel that. I'm just so damn good.
DeLisle
Mh. I must be doing something wrong. Either I screwed up my calculations or… "My, my, Sergeant, who would have thought. You of all people disobeying a direct order from your commanding General." Oh. Crap. Trying to hide the embarrassment at getting caught, I purse my lips and turn around to face the Major.
"Technically… I'm not working, sir. I'm just… playing around a little." He snorts and then gives me a wary glance.
"Dee… are you hiding something from me?" Uh… no? Because, quite obviously you've already seen what I'm doing here. "Being psychic, maybe? Or… kind of… sharing a mind with Lieutenant Reece? Because that's basically the excuse she tried to give me when I found her in her office." He found her working? I honestly hope not, because from what I could see shine through, she should be doing anything but.
"Maybe she was just… uh…"
"Nuh-uh, no trying to distract me. We're talking about you here. Why do I have to find my not fully fit for duty Sergeant sitting in his lab fiddling around with potentially dangerous stuff?" Hey, I was not fiddling around with any actual chemicals.
"With all due respect, sir… I'm only running simulations here. On a laptop. No real explosives involved in any case. And… you do remember that it was part of our deal that I'd get some work done if you bail me out of the infirmary, right?" That's a little bold, I know, but even though he's trying to give me the stern CO routine, he's in very high spirits – though I have no idea, why that could be – and when he's in that kind of mood, he doesn't really mind.
"Ah, but that was before O'Neill grounded us all." Which, by the way, means you can't order any of us around. "No, I don't want to hear it, Sergeant. I know very well myself that my power to order you around in your spare time is rather limited… but do yourself a favor and stop working."
He sits down beside me, and luckily for him, there isn't anything hazardous lying around this time. I just bet he would have been much more in the danger of getting it in his face than I. "I… appreciate your concern, but I'm fine with what I'm doing. I like this kind of stuff, sir." And you really should know that by now.
He rubs a hand over his eyes, and I can now see that the last mission has gotten him more than just a fading black eye. Usually, he can cope pretty well with what the missions throw at us, but once in a while something extraordinary happens and the people who really know him well get to see a glimpse of what years of service in Black Ops units most have already cost him. This mission is surely one of these. "Hey… I know. I just don't want O'Neill to get off on you. Or on me, for that matter. So… do me a favor and do things that normal people do in their spare time?"
I sigh. Normal people, huh? "Any suggestions, sir?"
"I said normal people." Oh, and if you don't consider yourself normal, how should I – your subordinate – know what normal people do, huh? "Oh, wait, maybe I have something. You have anything planned tonight?" You mean apart from secretly checking my calculations in my quarters and rerun a few simulations? Nope. "Ah, never mind, here's the plan: Since we're all bored, we could as well use the time to do some little off-duty teambuilding. My place, some DVD, some beer, just passing some time together. The girls already agreed. What do you say?"
Wait, let me think… Laura, no possibility to get away the whole evening – driving myself is sadly out of question with that bullet wound – and alcohol. Yeah, really sounds like something I should be taking part in… nope, maybe not. I can hold my liquor, and nothing short of Chinese water torture can drive me to reveal a secret… but I'm not so sure about Laura. I still don't know how exactly she thinks about me and quite frankly: I'm not really keen on learning it in the presence of the Major.
But then again… if I say no, he'll want to know why. And there's always the danger that he'll get the idea that I might hole myself up in my quarters for a reason. Seems like I don't have any other option left. "With pleasure, sir. I feel very honored by your invitation." And I do. Honestly. In all the time I served with the Major, we have always been keeping a professional distance from each other. But if I'm honest: That's all mostly my doing. I probably just never gave him a chance to offer me an opportunity to get beyond a purely professional relationship. Come to think of it: I don't give that chance to that many people. Or rather… to anyone at all.
"You don't have to. That was really overdue. Well… better now…" Suddenly there's the sound of an F-22 Raptor engine sounding through the room, and the Major pulls out his cell. Geez. Fighter pilots. Frowning he reads his display and a second or two after finishing, he suddenly gets a shade paler. "Oh God. I'm so screwed."
Care to enlighten me? "Sir?"
"I should have known she was up to something." Mh. Not really enlightening.
"Uh… who, sir?" He holds up the cell. Sir, I'm not known under the name "Sergeant Eagle Eye" on this base.
"Laura. Just told me she left the base to head into town and that I shouldn't go looking for Reece, either." Yeah… so? "And yesterday, she let slip something about needing a new housemate and finding it a pity that the Kid is living on the base and… dammit. They'll be insufferable in a few weeks. I just bet she'll wrap her around her finger in the space of a few minutes and the Kid will move in with her. I'm… we are screwed, Sergeant."
Huh? Why? "But… I don't see any problem with the Lieutenant moving in with Captain Greenspan. They are both adults, they get along…"
"Well, that's the problem! They already get along with each other. I honestly don't want to know all the things Laura has probably already told her. Sergeant, trust me: We can already say good-bye to that good little Lieutenant. If there's one thing Laura is really good at, it's boosting other people's self-confidence. And I just have this feeling that the Kid can be a handful if she's given a little encouragement." Yeah… well… so what? I am just the guy you all have the right to order around. I really don't have to worry about a Lieutenant walking all over me me, because, you know, walking all over me is her right.
Alright. No. Wait. That's a big problem. If she ever realizes that there's nothing hindering her from grilling me about Laura – and the probability that she does realize it increases with the time she passes with Laura – she will do it. Oh crap. "I… think I get what you're trying to say. What do we do about it?"
His face lights up and there's a little evil glint in his eyes. "No idea yet, but we still have a lot of time on our hands to come up with a good plan." Yes, we do. And suddenly my simulations are really not that interesting anymore.
A/N: Yay, another chapter. This time, it's actually betaed by the lovely mac who is giving her best to help me find improvements to stuff I know just doesn't sound right but can't find an alternative for. Everyone thank her please ;)
