Fic: Men at War
Title: Men at War
Author: AnnieVH
Fandom: Alex Delaware Novels
Pairing/Characters: Milo Sturgis/Rick Silverman
Rating/Category: PG/Gen
Prompt: Milo writes.
Spoilers: none
Summary: Rick traps Milo into doing something he may not be brave enough to do.
Notes/Warnings: set around the most recent books, where they're both in their late 50's.
x-posted on smallfandomfest and my tumblr
Sometimes, you have to take matters in your own hands, and this was one of those times. Rick decided for "omitting the truth" - no need to use such a horrible word as "lying". Milo would be furious and storm out without giving Rick a chance to explain, but all things considered it was worth the risk.
Rick drove him to the meeting on their day off, fearing Milo's detective senses would be capturing the signs, but he just sat lazily by his side and stared out the window. Didn't say a word until he saw the place.
"That's awfully fancy," Milo grumble as Rick parked in front of the restaurant.
"Yes, the food is quite good," he replied, absent-minded.
"Better be, I had to put on my best suit and everything."
Milo picked the end of his tie and wiggled it.
Rick looked at the perfect match of black and silver that took a little bit of persuasion, since Milo usually ran from anything that made him look vaguely attractive. But then stared beyond it, trying to spot the man through the front windows.
"Hello?" Milo called.
"Hm?"
"Are we going in or not?"
Rick stretched his neck a little more, but said nothing.
"You're not proposing, are you?"
Now his eyes were fixed on Milo. "Pardon me?"
"Best suit, matching tie, fancy food...?"
"No, no. Not that."
"Good. I'm not ready for that kind of commitment just yet."
Rick chuckled.
That was probably the final drop, him finding one of Milo's stupid jokes funny.
Milo threw him a pointy look, "Alright, Mister! 'Nough with the spy roleplay. What's going on?"
Rick hissed, calculating risk. Would it be better to get him in the restaurant first so he wouldn't maybe cause a scene, or tell him in the car and allow him a chance to say no?
Milo kept on staring.
Maybe it'd be best to just tell him.
"Ready to be pissed?"
"Always."
"There's a man inside waiting for you."
"Oh!" Milo said. Gave him a smirk. "Right. Thank you, dear, exactly what I wanted for Christmas."
Rick didn't laugh. Didn't look jealous or faked a pout. Things were serious.
Instead, he explained, "He's, uhn, he's a literary agent." And got out of the car.
Milo didn't move for a moment, his brain slowly registering what his partner had just said. By the time Rick opened his door to try to force Milo out, he still couldn't believe it.
"C'mon, Big Guy, out you go."
"You did what?" Milo asked, in a tiny voice, as color left his face.
"I sneaked into your computer, reprinted the first five chapters of Men At War, put it in a nice looking bind and did a little research on literary agents in Los Angeles."
"You sent my-" he swallowed the word book and replaced with the much more comfortable and generic word thing, "to a complete stranger without my permission?"
"Of course not! What would be the point of that? I sent it to nineteen complete strangers without your permission."
Milo looked horrified, but not ready to go on a murder spree, which was good.
"Don't be like that. We had a positive outcome. Seven said it was not what they were looking for, one of them sent me an email that read - I kid you not - 'eew, gay'. Eight did not reply yet - I'm sure they will, though - and three wanted to meet you."
"How... how..."
"But Mr. Thorton there was first and said he cannot wait to know what happens next. Plus, he's responsible for the publishing of eight war novels. He has priority. So, come on, out of the car and ready for business."
"That was personal!" Milo shrieked, finally catching up with the story and still not moving, much to Rick's frustration.
"That was brilliant!"
"It was a joke!"
"The other files I found in your computer a joke as well?"
Milo's eyes popped. "You read that?!"
"Haha, busted!" Rick pointed an accusing finger. "There is more!"
"Damn it!"
"I knew it wasn't the first one! No one gets it right like that on their first try."
"Get it right like that," Milo snorted. "Is a stupid story."
"It's not. It's very touching."
"I only wrote it to prove to you that, yes, I can in fact think of a better story than Brokeback Mountain."
"I stand corrected and moved."
"Wasn't even very hard."
"Yes."
"Because that movie sucked."
"Yes, well-"
"In fact, I cannot believe you made me watch-"
"Okay! We are getting sidetracked here, Big Guy. Your agent's waiting."
"I don't want to publish it."
"Why not?"
"Because people will know I wrote it!"
"That is the point, yes."
"I'm already in disadvantaged at work and if rumor has it I write gay fiction about soldiers-"
Rick giggled.
"You make it sound like the script to a porn movie."
"That is not the point."
"I thought of that first and no one will know. I picked the perfect pen name for you."
Milo hid behind a big hand. "Ow, fuck, you didn't send him a piece of gay fiction by Mr. Big Guy, did you?"
"No. You're Mr. Loo Bernard. Loo is spelled with double Os."
"Nice."
"Because you are a lieutenant and your middle name is Bernard."
"Yes, I got it."
Rick let him be quiet for a moment, grudgingly ruminating his possibilities and rubbing his face once, twice, three times.
"So?" he nudged, softly.
Milo looked up, then at the restaurant. Decided in a quiet voice, "Can we just go home, please? Please?"
"No."
"You can't make me go inside," Milo insisted, a bit too wildly.
"I won't make you. I will ask you to, please, go inside and meet with Mr. Thorton."
"And if I won't?"
Rick shrugged. "Nothing will happen. We'll go home and I'll still love and respect you and I'll spend the rest of the day apologizing."
"You should."
"But-"
"What?"
"If you don't go inside, then nothing will happen."
Milo didn't say anything.
"No book deal, no publishing, and your novel will go to waste."
Milo gave that a brief thought.
"It's not good."
"It is good, Milo."
Milo huffed, "You're biased. You love me and want to protect me. And you know nothing about literature."
"I do and I do and I don't. Still think it's a good story. And that you are a brilliant writer."
Milo didn't look at him.
"And more than that, I think you want to be a writer beyond the laundry-room-slash-office you got back home."
With very hesitant movements, always looking like he was on the verge of changing his mind, Milo got out of the car, not even making the tired grumbles he was so fond of whenever forced to exercise.
"Alright," Rick fixed his tie, "don't talk with your mouth full. Don't chew when you're talking, don't talk when you're chewing. Napkin on your lap, not your neck. Look confident and proud of your work."
"I feel sick."
"Don't be sick. And don't even think of letting him pay the bill. And pay with card, not cash. It's smart."
Rick stepped back to look at Milo, giving his jacket a final smooth. He must have liked what he saw because a tiny smile made way to his face.
"Gorgeous," he said. "Very professional."
His voice had the very soft hint of nervousness. He cared about the outcome of that meeting just as much as Milo, maybe more.
That made Milo feel safe enough to voice his real fear, "What if he says no?"
"We'll try another one," Rick answered, quickly and as if it was nothing to be bothered about, really. "Until someone says yes or you convince me to drop it, whichever comes first."
"Right," Milo said. Took a step towards the restaurant, but then looked back. "But what if-"
"Milo!" Rick said, rather firmly, using the voice that made him sound like old Mrs. Sturgis. "Go in there and have your meeting before I lose my temper!"
Milo hated that voice. You can never argue with your mother.
"No need to get aggressive. Jeez."
Milo turned and climbed up the front steps. Before disappearing inside the restaurant, he could hear Rick say, "I'll be right here when you come back."
***
The man was fortyish, blond and well built. Maybe he had played football in college? If he tried to start a conversation about football Milo wouldn't know what to do.
Thorton started up, "Hi, you Loo Bernard?"
Milo took a deep breath and answered, "Yes, I am."
The men shook hands and sat down to talk business.
**FIM**
Author: AnnieVH
Fandom: Alex Delaware Novels
Pairing/Characters: Milo Sturgis/Rick Silverman
Rating/Category: PG/Gen
Prompt: Milo writes.
Spoilers: none
Summary: Rick traps Milo into doing something he may not be brave enough to do.
Notes/Warnings: set around the most recent books, where they're both in their late 50's.
x-posted on smallfandomfest and my tumblr
Sometimes, you have to take matters in your own hands, and this was one of those times. Rick decided for "omitting the truth" - no need to use such a horrible word as "lying". Milo would be furious and storm out without giving Rick a chance to explain, but all things considered it was worth the risk.
Rick drove him to the meeting on their day off, fearing Milo's detective senses would be capturing the signs, but he just sat lazily by his side and stared out the window. Didn't say a word until he saw the place.
"That's awfully fancy," Milo grumble as Rick parked in front of the restaurant.
"Yes, the food is quite good," he replied, absent-minded.
"Better be, I had to put on my best suit and everything."
Milo picked the end of his tie and wiggled it.
Rick looked at the perfect match of black and silver that took a little bit of persuasion, since Milo usually ran from anything that made him look vaguely attractive. But then stared beyond it, trying to spot the man through the front windows.
"Hello?" Milo called.
"Hm?"
"Are we going in or not?"
Rick stretched his neck a little more, but said nothing.
"You're not proposing, are you?"
Now his eyes were fixed on Milo. "Pardon me?"
"Best suit, matching tie, fancy food...?"
"No, no. Not that."
"Good. I'm not ready for that kind of commitment just yet."
Rick chuckled.
That was probably the final drop, him finding one of Milo's stupid jokes funny.
Milo threw him a pointy look, "Alright, Mister! 'Nough with the spy roleplay. What's going on?"
Rick hissed, calculating risk. Would it be better to get him in the restaurant first so he wouldn't maybe cause a scene, or tell him in the car and allow him a chance to say no?
Milo kept on staring.
Maybe it'd be best to just tell him.
"Ready to be pissed?"
"Always."
"There's a man inside waiting for you."
"Oh!" Milo said. Gave him a smirk. "Right. Thank you, dear, exactly what I wanted for Christmas."
Rick didn't laugh. Didn't look jealous or faked a pout. Things were serious.
Instead, he explained, "He's, uhn, he's a literary agent." And got out of the car.
Milo didn't move for a moment, his brain slowly registering what his partner had just said. By the time Rick opened his door to try to force Milo out, he still couldn't believe it.
"C'mon, Big Guy, out you go."
"You did what?" Milo asked, in a tiny voice, as color left his face.
"I sneaked into your computer, reprinted the first five chapters of Men At War, put it in a nice looking bind and did a little research on literary agents in Los Angeles."
"You sent my-" he swallowed the word book and replaced with the much more comfortable and generic word thing, "to a complete stranger without my permission?"
"Of course not! What would be the point of that? I sent it to nineteen complete strangers without your permission."
Milo looked horrified, but not ready to go on a murder spree, which was good.
"Don't be like that. We had a positive outcome. Seven said it was not what they were looking for, one of them sent me an email that read - I kid you not - 'eew, gay'. Eight did not reply yet - I'm sure they will, though - and three wanted to meet you."
"How... how..."
"But Mr. Thorton there was first and said he cannot wait to know what happens next. Plus, he's responsible for the publishing of eight war novels. He has priority. So, come on, out of the car and ready for business."
"That was personal!" Milo shrieked, finally catching up with the story and still not moving, much to Rick's frustration.
"That was brilliant!"
"It was a joke!"
"The other files I found in your computer a joke as well?"
Milo's eyes popped. "You read that?!"
"Haha, busted!" Rick pointed an accusing finger. "There is more!"
"Damn it!"
"I knew it wasn't the first one! No one gets it right like that on their first try."
"Get it right like that," Milo snorted. "Is a stupid story."
"It's not. It's very touching."
"I only wrote it to prove to you that, yes, I can in fact think of a better story than Brokeback Mountain."
"I stand corrected and moved."
"Wasn't even very hard."
"Yes."
"Because that movie sucked."
"Yes, well-"
"In fact, I cannot believe you made me watch-"
"Okay! We are getting sidetracked here, Big Guy. Your agent's waiting."
"I don't want to publish it."
"Why not?"
"Because people will know I wrote it!"
"That is the point, yes."
"I'm already in disadvantaged at work and if rumor has it I write gay fiction about soldiers-"
Rick giggled.
"You make it sound like the script to a porn movie."
"That is not the point."
"I thought of that first and no one will know. I picked the perfect pen name for you."
Milo hid behind a big hand. "Ow, fuck, you didn't send him a piece of gay fiction by Mr. Big Guy, did you?"
"No. You're Mr. Loo Bernard. Loo is spelled with double Os."
"Nice."
"Because you are a lieutenant and your middle name is Bernard."
"Yes, I got it."
Rick let him be quiet for a moment, grudgingly ruminating his possibilities and rubbing his face once, twice, three times.
"So?" he nudged, softly.
Milo looked up, then at the restaurant. Decided in a quiet voice, "Can we just go home, please? Please?"
"No."
"You can't make me go inside," Milo insisted, a bit too wildly.
"I won't make you. I will ask you to, please, go inside and meet with Mr. Thorton."
"And if I won't?"
Rick shrugged. "Nothing will happen. We'll go home and I'll still love and respect you and I'll spend the rest of the day apologizing."
"You should."
"But-"
"What?"
"If you don't go inside, then nothing will happen."
Milo didn't say anything.
"No book deal, no publishing, and your novel will go to waste."
Milo gave that a brief thought.
"It's not good."
"It is good, Milo."
Milo huffed, "You're biased. You love me and want to protect me. And you know nothing about literature."
"I do and I do and I don't. Still think it's a good story. And that you are a brilliant writer."
Milo didn't look at him.
"And more than that, I think you want to be a writer beyond the laundry-room-slash-office you got back home."
With very hesitant movements, always looking like he was on the verge of changing his mind, Milo got out of the car, not even making the tired grumbles he was so fond of whenever forced to exercise.
"Alright," Rick fixed his tie, "don't talk with your mouth full. Don't chew when you're talking, don't talk when you're chewing. Napkin on your lap, not your neck. Look confident and proud of your work."
"I feel sick."
"Don't be sick. And don't even think of letting him pay the bill. And pay with card, not cash. It's smart."
Rick stepped back to look at Milo, giving his jacket a final smooth. He must have liked what he saw because a tiny smile made way to his face.
"Gorgeous," he said. "Very professional."
His voice had the very soft hint of nervousness. He cared about the outcome of that meeting just as much as Milo, maybe more.
That made Milo feel safe enough to voice his real fear, "What if he says no?"
"We'll try another one," Rick answered, quickly and as if it was nothing to be bothered about, really. "Until someone says yes or you convince me to drop it, whichever comes first."
"Right," Milo said. Took a step towards the restaurant, but then looked back. "But what if-"
"Milo!" Rick said, rather firmly, using the voice that made him sound like old Mrs. Sturgis. "Go in there and have your meeting before I lose my temper!"
Milo hated that voice. You can never argue with your mother.
"No need to get aggressive. Jeez."
Milo turned and climbed up the front steps. Before disappearing inside the restaurant, he could hear Rick say, "I'll be right here when you come back."
***
The man was fortyish, blond and well built. Maybe he had played football in college? If he tried to start a conversation about football Milo wouldn't know what to do.
Thorton started up, "Hi, you Loo Bernard?"
Milo took a deep breath and answered, "Yes, I am."
The men shook hands and sat down to talk business.
**FIM**