Author's note:
Warning: Very short! But I'll make it up to you tomorrow with TWO updates! (one for this story and one for "Dirty Job")
The Princess With The Purple Heart
Twelve
He has the bottle of vodka tucked against his side, hidden under his jacket, stiffly clutching it against him with his arm. He struts across the compound with an exaggerated swagger, overcompensating for how insecure and frightened he is feeling. It's like walking through the camp with a bomb under his arm; enough power to wreck his entire career in the Marine Corps, even if it's only a third of the way full.
Follander was surprised at his sudden interest in the booze, but he was happy to make a trade. It cost Duo three weeks of swap-rights: whenever Follander would be assigned a chore he didn't feel like Duo, he could call in Duo to do it for him.
As long as he wouldn't get caught, he would have no regrets.
"Why you walking funny, Maxwell? Something wrong?"
Duo freezes and he gets red and sweaty being faced with the Staff Sergeant. He produces the bottle from under his jacket. The clear alcoholic liquid is in a plastic bottle that they used for water. With a smile to fake innocence, he declares: "Just trying to keep it out of the sun." He puts it back in the shadow of his jacket.
The Staff doesn't think anything of it. He nods and continues along his path.
"Holy shit," Duo mutters under his breath and he skitters the rest of the way to his barracks. They are going out for patrol in half an hour and Heero is already at the equipment shack getting ready with the rest of the unit and Duo has to join them soon. He scrambles to find a good hiding space in the bare space, but then thinks better of it and he decides to hide the contraband in plain sight: setting the bottle on his side of the nightstand, between the twin cots.
He throws one last, unsure look over his shoulder before walking out and shutting the door behind him. He makes his way back across the camp and he is grateful Heero already has most of his gear packed up for him. "Thanks."
Heero shoots him a look, not knowing why both Duo and Follander had been running late.
Follander smirks secretly at Duo and Duo makes a face at him, wordlessly urging him to not draw any attention to the situation.
The unit walks out of the gates right on schedule and they spend the night circling the camp about two clicks out. Radio control had picked up chatter coordinating an attack on the FOB, but aside from seeing a pair of tail lights disappear into the desert, the night is quiet and uneventful. Their shift ends just as the sun peeks over the mountainous horizon. The cracked shutters do little to keep the sunlight, or the warmth of the day, out of the barracks, so the two soldiers don't get much sleep, but they stay in their cots and rest until they have to get out again at noon.
The water bottle containing vodka is still on the nightstand, undisturbed. While the two of them are getting dressed in preparation of joining everyone else at the Mess Hall for lunch – which would be their breakfast, Duo has his back turned to Heero and it takes a while for the penny to drop as Heero asks: "Can I have a sip of this?" Duo turns just in time to see Heero put the bottle to his lips and he snatches it out of his hand, spilling some of the liquid on Heero's shirt.
"What the fuck, man?" He wipes his hand over his chest and then pinches the front of his shirt between his fingers and brings it up high enough to sniff it. His brow furrow. "What the Hell?"
"It's vodka," Duo hisses. "I got it from Follander."
"That is some bad fucking vodka, for it to smell like that," Heero noted.
Duo smells the cap before he screws it back onto the bottle so he can put it away. He makes a face. It did have a pretty strong smell to it, whereas good vodka is supposed to be odorless. Of course, Follander got the vodka from a local distilling the vodka in his shack, using God-knows-what, leaving a lot of impurities in the end product. "Can't exactly have a bottle of Smirnoff flown in." He doesn't care much about the quality anyway; as long as the drink gets the job done.
"Now I have to change out of this shirt." He strips it off and gets a fresh one to put on. With his back turned to Duo, he remarks: "So, you wasted no time, huh?"
It was only the day before yesterday that Heero had dropped the you-should-get-me-drunk-bomb. He smiles sheepishly. "I'm an impatient man."
"Hn." Heero faces him again and his mouth is tight, but only because he's fighting a smirk.
"Let's go. I'm hungry." He easily slings his arm around Heero's shoulders. It's not just that their bodies fit together to well, but also that they are more comfortable around each other than they have ever been – something Duo hadn't expected, but is grateful for.
They decide to wait a few days, to give time for their wake-sleep cycle to return to normal after the night-op. Duo can't deny that he is giddy and jittery with excitement. In the meantime, his turn in the internet café comes up again, but he skips it. He doesn't feel like concerning himself with home right now; he wants to live in the moment guilt-free, without assigning any unnecessary significance to what he and Heero are planning to do. They are just two guys, stuck in a warzone, needing a stress relief. Only, Duo isn't stressed at all, nor does he feel stuck. In fact, he feels content and like he never wants this tour to end.
More tomorrow! What do you think is going to happen next?