Fic: Commitment
One New Year's Resolution down. I've been working at this thing since November Choices (for which, as always, I had a really terrible K/D idea and an Alaska idea that I actually liked).
“I could quit,” G had said quietly the last time he had called. “You could quit.” He perhaps hadn’t meant it, but he’d sounded by turns angry and sad that night (hopelessly, painfully sad when he made that suggestion). G had been spending his birthday alone.
Michael had been hearing it over and over in his head in the days since. “You could quit.” It was entirely odd that he hadn’t considered it before. He’d let himself be shipped off to Alaska when he just could have quit. They all had. NATO didn’t own any of them. He could quit and go back to Germany. But somehow that felt wrong.
He asked Alejandro about it one night during Petra’s watch. He thought he’d seen Gregory slip into the watch room after her. Alejandro’s service revolver was broken into pieces on the kitchen table and they each had a beer in front of them. “Alejandro,” Michael ventured. “Why did you come here?”
Alejandro laughed and took a long pull of his beer. “That is a very embarrassing story. Suffice it to say that it was Spain’s turn to send an agent and I pretty much nominated myself.” Alejandro laughed again, as if remembering, and then returned to oiling his barrel.
Michael watched him for a minute. “Why did you come?”
“Hmm?” Alejandro asked. He looked genuinely confused.
“Why did you accept the transfer? Why didn’t you leave NATO?”
“I deserved the transfer.” It was all he said before going back to his work. It wasn’t quite the answer Michael had been hoping for.
Michael didn’t feel quite right about asking his superior officer about the matter, even considering Bering Station’s lax approach to command. But Petra would probably know. So he waited until he had her alone. Well, except for everyone else at Mindy’s. “Petra,” he asked carefully. “How did Greg get here?”
“This and that,” she said, distracted by her pie. “A sustained pattern of irreverence and not always adhering to regulations. Too good an agent to fire and darned if this isn’t the next best thing to the top brass.” She stopped spreading her whipped cream into a uniform thickness across her slice of pumpkin pie and looked up at him. “But he brought it on himself.”
“Why did he come here?” Petra tilted her head to the side and looked puzzled. “Why did you come? After the incident with Eroica?”
“Michael, I was assigned to,” she said and returned to her pie.
Later that night, as he considered it during watch, he realized that she was right.
“I couldn’t,” he told G on the phone the next time they talked. Petra and Greg were asleep and Alejandro was down on watch. Michael had dragged the hall phone into his bedroom and called just because he wanted to.
“Couldn’t what, love?” Michael imagined that G was curled up in bed in the yellow pajamas he’d brought to Alaska and worn in Michael’s bed.
“Couldn’t leave the service. I want to be out there with you, or anywhere with you, but...”
“But we’re not that sort,” G said with a resigned sigh. “I couldn’t either. We’ve made a commitment to what we do.” Michael didn’t say a thing, so there was a silence. “I do miss you,” G said, almost too quietly to be heard. “And I love you.”
Michael leaned his head back and worried that things would always be like this.
“I could quit,” G had said quietly the last time he had called. “You could quit.” He perhaps hadn’t meant it, but he’d sounded by turns angry and sad that night (hopelessly, painfully sad when he made that suggestion). G had been spending his birthday alone.
Michael had been hearing it over and over in his head in the days since. “You could quit.” It was entirely odd that he hadn’t considered it before. He’d let himself be shipped off to Alaska when he just could have quit. They all had. NATO didn’t own any of them. He could quit and go back to Germany. But somehow that felt wrong.
He asked Alejandro about it one night during Petra’s watch. He thought he’d seen Gregory slip into the watch room after her. Alejandro’s service revolver was broken into pieces on the kitchen table and they each had a beer in front of them. “Alejandro,” Michael ventured. “Why did you come here?”
Alejandro laughed and took a long pull of his beer. “That is a very embarrassing story. Suffice it to say that it was Spain’s turn to send an agent and I pretty much nominated myself.” Alejandro laughed again, as if remembering, and then returned to oiling his barrel.
Michael watched him for a minute. “Why did you come?”
“Hmm?” Alejandro asked. He looked genuinely confused.
“Why did you accept the transfer? Why didn’t you leave NATO?”
“I deserved the transfer.” It was all he said before going back to his work. It wasn’t quite the answer Michael had been hoping for.
Michael didn’t feel quite right about asking his superior officer about the matter, even considering Bering Station’s lax approach to command. But Petra would probably know. So he waited until he had her alone. Well, except for everyone else at Mindy’s. “Petra,” he asked carefully. “How did Greg get here?”
“This and that,” she said, distracted by her pie. “A sustained pattern of irreverence and not always adhering to regulations. Too good an agent to fire and darned if this isn’t the next best thing to the top brass.” She stopped spreading her whipped cream into a uniform thickness across her slice of pumpkin pie and looked up at him. “But he brought it on himself.”
“Why did he come here?” Petra tilted her head to the side and looked puzzled. “Why did you come? After the incident with Eroica?”
“Michael, I was assigned to,” she said and returned to her pie.
Later that night, as he considered it during watch, he realized that she was right.
“I couldn’t,” he told G on the phone the next time they talked. Petra and Greg were asleep and Alejandro was down on watch. Michael had dragged the hall phone into his bedroom and called just because he wanted to.
“Couldn’t what, love?” Michael imagined that G was curled up in bed in the yellow pajamas he’d brought to Alaska and worn in Michael’s bed.
“Couldn’t leave the service. I want to be out there with you, or anywhere with you, but...”
“But we’re not that sort,” G said with a resigned sigh. “I couldn’t either. We’ve made a commitment to what we do.” Michael didn’t say a thing, so there was a silence. “I do miss you,” G said, almost too quietly to be heard. “And I love you.”
Michael leaned his head back and worried that things would always be like this.