Sorry this took a while... If it ain't one thing, it's another, seriously.
I have no idea how many chapters I can stretch their time in the city out to... but I'll try not to have too much fun with it.
Here, have some fluff before they start humping each other again.
I awake after a few hours of sleep and slip away from Sean. He clings to me at first- like he always does—but eventually his arms slide away and I can replace my warmth with my pillow. I watch him for a moment, wrapped around my pillow with his legs flung across the middle of my bed. A smile tugs at my lips, but I turn away and collect his box and letters before I cross to my desk. There is a small lamp on it and I turn it on, angling the shade so that the light will not wake Sean. The box and letters go on the corner of my desk so that he can attend to them I his own time. I pull the transfer papers out from where I had stuffed them- under a book - and sit in my cold chair to skim through them. Nothing seems to have changed from my last transfer, all the fine print is in order.
I fill out the information necessary and, in the box where I can request a team, I simply put my own team's squad number. I've filled out several of these sheaves of paper before, and it would take more resources and time to actually transfer me than to just leave me where I am. It's not uncommon for someone to change their mind about transferring, especially with all the bureaucratic nonsense that is involved. I have no doubts that it will be approved and Sean will be stuck with me. I'm sure that neither of us will mind too terribly.
I fold the papers along their lines neatly before shuffling them into a fresh, weighty envelope. As the recipient I merely put "Headquarters" with a light flourish, and in the left corner I put my employee identification number. I seal the envelope and set it on the corner of my desk before beginning to read the rest of my mail. I didn't get a chance to last night and later, when Sean wakes up, I won't have the chance either.
One of the letters doesn't demand a response. It is merely a farewell from an esteemed colleague, telling me that he will no longer be with the company and, as such, will no longer be in contact with me. I smile and fold the letter back into its envelope. It goes in a drawer with several other letters of the same nature, all from fellow Spies that finished their three, five or ten year tour and don't want to hear from anyone involved in the war ever again. I can expect a contract renewal notice sometime next month and wonder which avenue Sean took. Probably a three or five year contract, he doesn't strike me as someone who would toss his lot in for the long haul, though a single ten year turn means twice as much pay as two five year tours. Getting out of a contract is like hell in an envelope, and the fees are ludicrous.
I reply to Stephanie next and place it on top of the envelope with my transfer papers inside. My other colleague's letter—Monsieur Onhonhonhon!— is next. I read it over several times before I pick up my pen and flip it over to write a brief, sarcastic message on the back before sealing it and placing it with the others. A glance at my watch tells me that I have only been up for a little over an hour. I stretch with a yawn before turning off my light.
Gently tugging my pillow from my Sean's arms, I replace it with my body. He protests and wakes up half way, but my arms draw him close and he fits against me perfectly. Every crevice between us fills with warm skin.
"Where'd you go?" His voice is sleepy and I kiss him silent again.
"… je ne vais nulle part, ma puce… I'm going nowhere." I tell him before closing my eyes once again.
Surprisingly, it is Sean that wakes me up. By now, I'm used to getting pounced on in the mornings, lips searching and hands teasing until I can't ignore them anymore. He's a pleasant alarm clock, though I generally awake before he does.
"I'm awake." I tell him, rolling onto my back and staring up at the ceiling groggily.
"I know I am." His grin moves into my view and I feel my lips smiling in return. "Feels freaking great to get a few more minutes of sleep than normal." He bounces off of my bed and stretches while I sit up and appreciate the view.
"It will be much better in the city." I reply, stretching and rubbing the back of my neck with a sigh. The beds are bare-minimum, subpar, lumpy mattresses. They feel just fine after a hard day of fighting and respawning, but they are not a pleasure to sleep on at all.
"Yeah, definitely." Sean seems to be pulling his shirt back on and he plops down on my floor to pull his shoes on after. "When do you think we're gonna leave for the city? I want some real fucking food."
"It will probably be discussed at breakfast. However, it will probably end something along the lines of, 'when I'm darn ready to pull out the van, that's when.' " I mimic Engineer's soft baritone as well as his ridiculously languid accent.
"Can't anyone else drive that thing? Ain't that hard, right?"
"No, it isn't that hard." I agree, watching him run over to my desk and grab my own stack of letters—giving me a small panic attack—before he realizes that they have my writing on them, and puts them back.
"Oops." He grabs his own envelopes and starts opening them once again while I cross to my closet and begin dressing.
"Bet I can read all these faster than you can get ready, Princess." He chuckles at his own joke and I roll my eyes.
Despite his jab at me, I still take my time, if only to watch him scan his letters and wonder if he would snoop into my own stack if I gave him the opportunity. How would he react to the transfer notice? I can only imagine how the coming time in town would be without him. I doubt that I could- in good conscience- date another while I was there if he was mad at me- as I know he would be.
I doubt that he would even give me time to explain myself before running from my room cursing my very existence. While it would be a magnificent display of drama, I think he respects my privacy too much to cross such a line.
By the time that I have finished tying my tie, he is ripping open his last letter. Despite his obvious lack of sophistication and culture, he reads surprisingly fast.
"I win, mon prince." I tell him, resting my hands on his shoulders and pressing my lips to his hair.
"Yeah, yeah, you got lucky one of my brothers had a baby and, shit, he won't fucking shut up about everything." He lets go of the letter to reach up and ruffle my hair. "Don't forget your mask, and I want milk this morning."
"Monsieur Picky can get his own milk, however I will have a plate ready for you." I slip away when he tries to grab at me and convince me to get his drink for him. He always complains that it isn't cold when he arrives, so he can get it himself.
"Mon-sewer Asshole can hurry up and leave—I'm starving."
"Your words wound me…" I smirk as I retrieve and slip on my mask. As I leave, his hand smacks my rear on my way past my desk and I try not to grin when I see Heavy making his way down the hall for breakfast as well.
He greets me in Russian, slapping my shoulder and almost causing me to careen into the wall.
I regain my footing and wave off his laughter. I reply in kind and allow him to walk with me to the kitchen where rubbery eggs and burnt toast await us.
I fix two plates and sit down, one in front of me and one across the table. Our team doesn't comment, they have been taking my "friendship" with Sean in stride. It only makes sense with all the time he has spent circling me for the past several months.
Time seems to run together the longer one stays at a base, and I can no longer remember how long we have been involved. I do know that it has been far longer than any other physical relationship I have ever been able to maintain. A Sniper once caught my eye, and we spent a single week trying to figure out if sex, coffee and cigarettes were enough to fuel something relatively stable.
It ended in disaster. In fact, it is the source of several scars.
Sean traipses in just as my teakettle begins to whistle, and I stand, brushing past him on my way to the stove.
"Hey, watch it, asshat." I can't tell from his tone whether he is joking or not, and my heart seems to stop as I turn to survey his expression. He grins and I feel the queasy paranoia recede. He didn't look through my mail.
"Non." I answer simply and gently push him while keeping the smile from my face. He sneers at me and makes a rude gesture, but I can tell that he is still grinning away.
Sean makes any room he enters louder. As soon as he sits down at the table, an argument breaks out about who should drive and which hotel they should stay in.
Amazingly, it lasts until I have finished my eggs and the unsigned bits of toast. I sit back and tune out the conversation while sipping my tea, feeling a rare wave of contentment when not tangled in my sheets with Sean.
"Hey! hey Spy, what do you think?"
I look up and raise a brow at Sean's pleading face. I haven't been following the conversation at all, so I just shrug and attempt to recall what I have been unable to ignore. Engineer wants to spend a few days working on his toys, and Sniper is too lazy to drive for so long. No one else has a valid license—law among mercenaries, how quaint. "Leaving after lunch would get us in town early enough to settle into our rooms before going for a meal of real food. I'm sure that you can work in your room. If not, then why not just relax and enjoy the vacation from motor oil and metal?"
Engineer looks as if he is considering my words, and I wonder when the last time was that he took at least 72 hours away from his precious mechanical abominations. He shrugs and sighs, "well, I suppose I could bring my blueprints with me…"
"Then it is settled." I stand and drain the last of my tea before taking my dishes to the sink. Upon my exit, I can hear Sean boasting:
"Yeah, that's why I'm friends with Spy, 'cause he knows how to get shit settled!" The lower voice of one of our teammates poses a question and he snorts. "Fuck no, I ain't got no 'hero worship' going on! If anything, it's Spy who thinks I'm a bad ass…" the rest of their conversation is lost as I near my room with a soft chuckle.
Once inside, I pull out my suitcase and begin to carefully pack several suits away into it. I have it down to a minimally wrinkling art. I remember halfway through that I should make sure that I have plenty of lubricant with me, since Sean tends to use too much and search my drawers around my room to see how much I have. I toss an almost-empty tube at the trashcan, but miss. I continue to pack away the rest in my bathroom kit before walking over to pick it up and put it in the trashcan. There is an envelope, ripped apart and tossed into the rubbish. I frown and pick out the pieces, curious.
The writing on one of the pieces is the feminine script of an educated young woman. I make sure that there are no more pieces left in the trash before walking over to my bed and spreading the bits of the letter out on my bed. I am halfway done with my puzzle by the time Sean bursts into my room. I grab the two pieces that I have deemed most important so far and slip them into my jacket pocket as I turn to intercept him.
"Shouldn't you be packing?" I ask, swatting his hand away from touching the clothes in my suitcase.
"Hey, c'mon," he pouts and I swoop down to kiss him.
"If you don't start packing now, you will forget something." I tell him, pushing him away when he tries to put his arms around my neck.
"No I won't…"
"Well, then, you'll have finished packing and you can spend between then and lunch in here with me instead of packing at the last minute." He's still pouting and I peck his lips again.
"Aw, fine…" His voice is a low, sulking grumble and I feel bad for turning him out so abruptly, but I will make it up to him later- after I am done snooping.
My lips touch his forehead and he hugs me before zipping back out and down the hall. I turn back to the pieces of paper scattered across the bed and then withdraw the two I had stuck into my pocket. They contained a phone number.
… if you ever get homesick, give me a call!
I tuck the two pieces into my cigarette case before pulling out and lighting one. After a long drag, I begin to gather the pieces again to throw them away. The rest of the letter was clearly the product of a girl barely out of her teens attempting to speak to a boy that she has obviously known for years and is trying to stay in contact with while he is away.
The envelope hadn't been opened, from what I could see. The flap was still glued down and the edges weren't torn. I wonder how long ago he stopped reading her letters, but it isn't something that I would ask him directly. Perhaps it isn't even any of my business.
I finish packing and collect my letters to drop in the outgoing mailbox. When I return, my suitcase has been thrown carelessly in the floor and Sean is sprawled on my bed with his face buried in my pillow. I quietly close the door and slip over to rest my hands on his hips. He jumps and flails to turn over, glaring up at me.
"Seriously, man. Don't sneak up on me like that!" He looks more amused than angry, and I smile before leaning down to steal a kiss.
I shift him to the side and sit down, running my hand across his stomach. "You are done packing?" I can feel his core rise and fall with his breathing.
He nods with a grin and I cock my head to the side.
"Socks?" I ask, and his brows furrow.
"Fuck!" I allow him to get up and run out of the room. He returns minutes later and jumps over me and onto my bed. "Socks!" He announces with a grin.
"Underwear?"
The cycle repeats itself with toiletries as well. The third time that he returns, he runs in and covers my mouth with his hands, hissing a drawn out, "shh!" at me.
We stare at each other for a minute, and I smirk against his hand. His serious face slowly stretches into a grin and he slides his hand from my mouth to rest his hand on my cheek, over my mask. "I'm gonna get to spend some time with you this trip, right?" He moves forward so that he's sitting in my lap, touching my face and tracing the lines where my balaclava ends, but not quite edging over to touch my skin.
"None at all. I have important business to attend to, and—"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. For a Spy, you're a crappy liar." He smirks triumphantly when I put on an indignant look.
"I excel at lying, actually." When he snorts as if he doesn't believe me, I lean forward and kiss his ear. "I will be happy when I am finally away from you."
He makes an uncertain noise and suddenly his fist jabs into my shoulder harshly.
"Mon dieu, what was that for?"
"I told you next time you were an asshat, I was gonna punch you."
"I was merely displaying my aptitude for the art of deception!"
He doesn't look impressed, but he's grinning again, so I don't think I did any real harm. "Then why don't I believe you?" His reasoning brings a smile to my lips and I lean forward to rest my head on his shoulder, my arms wrapping around his waist to hold him closer.
"Because you have come to know me so well... deceiving you in the future will be hard, what a shame." I feel his laugh through my mask and his warm breath brushes against my jaw. His chin digs into my neck until he turns his head back around and rests it on my shoulder.
"Yeah, I just like making your life harder." It is a joke, but things were so much simpler when my bed was cold. Back when I was able to convince myself that I was happy without a head of brown hair tickling my face and the light pressure of a body fitting snugly against my own. Without the warm, sun-kissed skin and the soft laugh that escapes when I ghost my hands just right along his sides.
"Somehow, petit, I think I shall survive."