|
Disclaimer: The characters of
Cooper Hawkes, T.C. McQueen and the 58th belong to Glenn Morgan, James Wong, and Hard
Eight Pictures, Inc. borrowed with appreciation but without permission. No copyright
infringement intended.
Butts
"Maybe you pulled every string, but I
pulled the rope. I'm on a mission classified "compartmentalized". And I'm taking
them with me."
McQueen barely heard the words over the refrain running
through his head. This ain't gonna happen, he thought, unaware he'd spoken aloud.
The Lieutenant Colonel continued his speech, each word
another stab at McQueen. His parting shot "they're mine now" cut even deeper.
He left, going in person this time to Commodore Ross,
trying once more to have another squad take this mission. The Commodore was sympathetic
but could no nothing.
"My hands are tied, Colonel. They're Butts' for this
mission. I'm sorry, Tye. I know how you feel." Ross sat back, meeting McQueen's eyes.
McQueen leant down against the Commodore's desk. "Do
you, sir? I've trained them to trust their commanding officers. I wouldn't trust that man
with a ... pet fish. A dead one." He stood up, turning away from Ross.
"Colonel, your orders are clear - they are not your
squad for the duration of this mission. You are off duty for the next three days. Do you
understand? Goddamit, Tye, look at me! Do you understand?"
Without turning, the Colonel answered in the affirmative.
He strode out of the room, anger clearly written on his face. Crewmen stepped out of his
way as he returned to his room. Showering quickly, he climbing into civilian clothing,
something he rarely did onboard, even when he was off duty. The clothing felt subtly
wrong, emphasizing his unease with the whole situation.
Walking into the common room, he stopped to listen to the
Wild Card's bitching about their latest training session.
"I'm in a squad where I'd rather shoot the CO then
the enemy," Hawkes said as McQueen entered.
"Knock it off," McQueen ordered, striding up to
their table.
"You know what I'm saying, sir," Hawkes
continued. "I mean, I never felt like shooting you."
"Stop it, Hawkes. You're making me all misty."
All the Wild Cards knew he and Hawkes were lovers, but he was never anything other than
their commanding officer in public.
Wang spoke up, taking the attention off Hawkes.
"Sir, we'd all lay down our lives for you because we know you'd put it down for us.
But Butts, .." he trailed off.
West broke in. "He wouldn't be there."
"Sir, is there something you can do?" Vanessa
asked.
"We don't want him, we want you," Cooper said
in a low voice, looking at the table top.
That voice, so familiar, reminiscent of hot passion and
quiet comfort brought a lump to his throat. He took refuge in sarcasm, biting out a reply
to cover his sudden surge of emotion. "This isn't a dating service. We're in the
middle of a war." Putting aside his own feelings, he answered their questions,
reminding them that they were to follow orders, then left.
He stopped at the door, turning once more to the five
faces watching after him. "But I'd check my six. And I'd check each other's
sixes," he warned, catching each pilot's eyes, lingering on his lover.
McQueen half expected to sleep alone that night, but
Hawkes dropped by after lights out, slipping into his room with practiced ease, not
bothering to turn the light on in the cabin he knew as well as his own.
Tye shuffled back to make space as Cooper hurriedly
undressed, a brief shiver as cold flesh pressed against him quickly suppressed. Wrapped in
solid warmth, Hawkes nestled into his lover's embrace, deliberately provocative, enticing
response with fleeting touches.
There was an air of quiet desperation about Hawkes'
loving, more so than the night before any of his other missions, a silent mutual awareness
that survival was even less assured than usual. McQueen answered this desperation with
easy strength, overriding the frantic haste with which Cooper clawed at him, until he
calmed beneath his touch, then turned him over to lay siege upon the quiescent willing
body, reclaiming an ownership that was never in doubt, until the only thing that filled
Hawkes was McQueen - his body, his love, his essence permeating every pore.
McQueen watched his squad preparing for the upcoming mission without him. As each pilot entered the APC, they looked for him, meeting his eyes, reading the message of support sent, the trust that they would follow their orders - and that McQueen would do whatever he could to ensure their safe return. He was waiting for them in the launch bay, knowing that only 5 of the 6 were returning, praying to a god he'd never believed in that all his squad were safe. His relief as all five gathered in front of him was quickly hidden under a brusque greeting, only his special arrangements for their meal giving any clue as to his feelings as he sent them off to change.
|