(no subject)
The remains of his hastily bolted dinner (headcrab jerky soaked in hot water and eaten in a corner of the base where he wouldn't be asked to make conversation) behind him, Gordon dusted off his hands and started making his way back towards the sleeping quarters. Whatever else the other rebels might be doing tonight, he was entirely too tired to want much more than sleep. He had a feeling Alyx felt much the same way. Might as well get some rest before that Combine data packet got cracked, or before the Combine forces themselves showed up.
About halfway there he made a detour. Men's room. Some things were more important than sleep.
Gordon had just finished at the urinal when the door slid open. He ignored it. Nobody needed a greeting in the men's room at this hour, frankly, and given that the other man didn't stop he figured they both felt the same way. It wasn't until he looked up from washing his hands that he realized the man who'd just zipped up wasn't dressed like any Resistance member Gordon had ever seen. As a matter of fact, he was wearing fatigues- the urban camouflage fatigues of the HECU Marines.
There was absolutely no way this could be happening. Absolutely none. And so he stood there, staring, until the other man looked at him with rapidly widening eyes. When he finally made a squeak of sound it was in response to the fact that Adrian Shephard had just hauled off and punched him, hard, before saying "Now we're even, Freeman," and stalking out of the room.
About halfway there he made a detour. Men's room. Some things were more important than sleep.
Gordon had just finished at the urinal when the door slid open. He ignored it. Nobody needed a greeting in the men's room at this hour, frankly, and given that the other man didn't stop he figured they both felt the same way. It wasn't until he looked up from washing his hands that he realized the man who'd just zipped up wasn't dressed like any Resistance member Gordon had ever seen. As a matter of fact, he was wearing fatigues- the urban camouflage fatigues of the HECU Marines.
There was absolutely no way this could be happening. Absolutely none. And so he stood there, staring, until the other man looked at him with rapidly widening eyes. When he finally made a squeak of sound it was in response to the fact that Adrian Shephard had just hauled off and punched him, hard, before saying "Now we're even, Freeman," and stalking out of the room.