Fic: Joint Fire Support Team: Break the Door Down (Generation Kill/SGA) (3/6)
Title: Break the Door Down
Fandom: Generation Kill/Stargate
Rating: T (language warning, guys. No, seriously.)
Genres: gen, with hints at het
Summary: All Brad Colbert wanted was some quiet but that means nothing if Evan Lorne wants to talk to you.
A/N: Moah. That was a monster of a story to write. I don't even know why it took me so long to finish it. I blame my job. Anyway, it's done. I sincerly hope you like it. Yes, writing this drained me enough that I can't come up with a more original A/N.
( Drowning on Dry Land )
( Better Treat Her Right )
Break the Door Down
"You want me, well, come on and break the door down
You want me, fucking come on and break the door down
I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready..."
Radiohead, "Talk Show Host"
It's not that he's hiding from the rest of the inhabitants of Atlantis. It's just that he needs time off now and then. Back on Earth he used to take his bike riding whenever he felt the need to get away from the confines of living on a base and that usually cleared his head enough that he was able to bear with enlisted bullshitting and a crappy chain of command for another couple days. He didn't try to smuggle his bike onto the Daedalus, though - probably would have worked, if he'd just tried hard enough, given some of the crap he'd seen in a couple of labs and common rooms - because it wouldn't have done much good anyway.
So when he's fed up with hapless scientists, nerdy techies and the brainfuck happening in the enlisted quarters, he climbs up a tower in the East section, until he gets to a door labeled “Maintenance” and “Don’t open unless in a climbing harness” and “I said don’t open the fucking thing unless you’re in a climbing harness with your ass chained to the hook left of you, dammit!” and every time he gets there, he can’t help rolling his eyes. He’s pretty sure the one who labeled it did some time in the Corps.
Anyway, usually, he opens the door - usually without a climbing harness except when it’s really stormy because he’s a Sergeant, not an idiot - and steps out onto a comfortably large ledge, kind of like an alcove. The only slightly inconvenient thing about it is the fact that there’s no railing but as the men in First Recon would have put it, “Railings are for losers.”
So yeah, that’s how it usually goes. That’s how it was supposed to go right now. Except that when he was about to convince the city that he has permission to open the goddamn door with a couple tricks he picked up from Maintenance on several mandatory cross training sessions, Major Lorne appeared in the corridor, laden with a couple of things, one of them looking suspiciously like canvas. And spotted him. With a frown. That’s not… “Let me guess, Sergeant. It’s not what it looks like?”
Well. “I’d answer your question, sir, if I knew what it looked like.” Even though he’s been here for a couple of months, Lorne’s reaction to that kind of thing still amazes him. Maybe that’s why he just can’t stop trying to push him.
Currently, it’s not working but that was to be expected. Instead of the usual assfuckery that would have gone down, Lorne looks close to rolling his eyes and answers, “I’d never have pegged you as the Queen of the Land called Passive-Aggressiva.” What? “Grey’s Anatomy reference, Sergeant. Don’t ask.” He… won’t. He’s… is he supposed to say something to that? Ray probably would have but then again… “Anyway, I’m supposed to think you didn’t just want to open a door saying “don’t open this”, ain’t I?”
There’s no getting past that guy. For all the casual irony and the occasional pop culture references, practically nothing sneaks past Lorne. Which is why he’s pretty sure the Major wasn’t guessing. He was merely looking for confirmation of what he already knew or at least suspected for a while.
He’s actually tempted to make a gesture of defeat but Lorne and he would both know it’s bullshit. It’s not like he didn’t suspect Lorne knew or at least suspected. He just kind of expected to be called on it earlier. He tries irony instead. “I’d be insulting your intelligence if I’d say yes, wouldn’t I, sir?”
It doesn't really surprise him that Lorne's answer is a grin. He had a couple of months to get used to the fact that Atlantis might have two or three officers of the familiar fuckwit variety he knew from several years in the Corps but that the majority is just a little... different. Lorne’s no exception. “Close one, Sergeant.”
Okay, so… what now? Probably wrapping his head around the fact that his lookout isn’t so secret anymore would be a good idea, and he needs to scout for a new one, as well. First of all, though, he needs to get out of this conversation with grace. Maybe directing the conversation away from him could work. He has seen working it between Lorne and Cadman.
He nods towards the objects Major Lorne had been carrying around before he’d leaned the biggest two - a piece of canvas and a folded easel - against a nearby wall. He damn well hopes that had nothing to do with Lorne not being fully back on par two weeks after being released from the infirmary. “Painting, sir?”
The Major doesn’t seem to miss a beat, not even raises an eyebrow. Only maybe looks a little exasperated. “Yes, Sergeant, painting.” It does strike him as odd a little. No-nonsense Major Lorne dallying around with brushes and paint… not what he’d expected as a pastime. “Don’t look at me like that.” He’s pretty sure Lorne’s bullshitting him about the look. Otherwise, he’d have lost his special Iceman powers. Ray would be dearly disappointed. “And do me a favor and accompany me.”
Okay, that came unexpected. And it’s not what he planned to do today. Maybe Lorne wasn’t serious, despite all evidence speaking against it. “Need someone to help you carry your supplies, sir?”
It wasn’t meant to needle Lorne and he’s pretty sure his tone conveyed that. So he’s pretty sure he has no idea where the frown on Lorne’s face just came from. “No, I need someone to answer me a few questions about one of the Marines in the contingent, Sergeant.”
What the… What the fucking fuck is this about? He’s got an idea but he’d be damned if he gave up anything on that to Lorne, decent officer or not. “Excuse me, sir?”
“Just tag along, will you, Colbert?” Clearly, that was an order.
Nothing left to say, except, “Yes, sir,” obviously.
Lorne simply nods and takes up his supplies again, seeming to make a point of not asking for help. It’s admirable, if a little stupid. His offer for help had been genuine. Would also be stupid to repeat it, though, so he just follows Lorne’s purposeful steps, telling him it’s not the first time Lorne’s in this part of the city. And here he’d been wondering how Lorne knew about the alcove.
Despite a pretty fast walk, Lorne does take his time putting up the easel and setting up the rest when they reach the balcony Lorne intended to be his view point and he wonders if it’s some more bullshitting on Lorne’s part or if the Major needs the time to prepare himself for whatever he’s going to ask him.
The good thing about this is that he doesn’t really need to talk to Lorne to keep occupied. It’s interesting enough to see Lorne set up everything, as meticulous as he usually is on duty but with a kind of quiet pleasant anticipation he hasn’t seen on the Major ever before, not even when he got Cadman something big to blow up and hasn’t told her yet.
When Lorne’s done, he takes a moment to look at the canvas. All he can see are smudges of blue, grey and a very pale yellow but discretion keeps him from looking too closely. Still silent, Lorne starts to paint, keeping it up for at least ten minutes. Other people probably would get itchy. He just gets annoyed, and he’s pretty sure now that Lorne is doing all of this on fucking purpose. He’d really love to know why.
Thankfully, after five more minutes, Lorne does him the favor of speaking to him again. “So,” he says after a few carefully easy strokes of his brush against the canvas, “Dr. Keller said you escorted Lieutenant Cadman to the infirmary when I was out of commission seventeen days ago.”
He did. He just thought that was all water under the bridge now. Or at least he hoped it wouldn’t be an issue Lorne might be asking him about. He doesn’t need Lorne to explain to him why he’s asking - after all, Lieutenant Cadman’s attempts at making them all believe she’s okay now that Major Lorne is back in the game are painfully easy to see through - but he’d still been hoping he wouldn’t. Because it puts him a fucking precarious position and because it’s fucking difficult not to hate him for doing it. “I did, sir,” he says carefully.
Lorne momentarily pauses his painting to look directly at him, kind of expectantly. What, did he really expect he’d volunteer any potentially sensitive information about one of Lorne’s team members? He never thought Lorne of all people would have to resort to going behind anyone’s back. He just stares back, daring Lorne to order him to reveal anything of the scarce information he might have on Cadman and her not exactly standard behavior.
After a moment, Lorne eventually gets back to painting but it doesn’t really feel as if he just won a staring match. Rather like Lorne felt it was silly to continue and that he didn’t need to take up with this kind of crap. “Sergeant,” he says continuing to work on his painting and continues in a rather conversationalist tone, “just to make it clear: you’re not here for interrogation. I don’t want you to compromise the trust of a fellow Marine. I’m asking for your help in dealing with certain issues of one of your own.”
He’s not sure if he heard that right. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t compromise Cadman and her continued out of character behavior such as short-temperedness, heightened irritability, a tendency to hole herself up in the workout room instead of taking part in informal Corps contingent functions and a general edginess that hadn’t been there before Lorne got himself shot up?
He decides to play ignorant. Maybe that’ll help. "I'm... not sure if I understand you correctly, sir. Who are you referring to?"
He's losing his edge, apparently. There's no other explanation for the look that Lorne throws him from half behind his canvas. It says very clearly "The hell you don't know who I'm talking about, Sergeant." His tone doesn't sound like he believes the ignorance act, either, when he says, "Then I'll just be blunt with you. I'm talking about Lieutenant Cadman and the rather uncharacteristic way she's been behaving since before I even woke up."
There goes his way out of this. He's tempted to start hating Lorne for the way he seems to know what's going on in the entire contingent. Or he would if that weren't what he usually appreciates about an officer. There is, however, still his conviction that he's not the right person to talk to about this. “I don’t think I’d be a big help in this matter, sir.”
Lorne is starting to like the smallest bit exasperated now. Somehow, there's an enormous amount of satisfaction in that. “Sergeant, if I didn’t know you’d be up to the task, I wouldn’t have asked you.”
Well. Apparently, they have a problem. And that problem is that Lorne just doesn't get it. He barely refrains from rolling his eyes at a field grade officer and tries to keep his tone matter-of-fact instead of majorly pissed off, when he says, “You know, sir, the last officer who asked for my advice and actually listened to me was a First Lieutenant, practically fresh out of Recon training, in 2003 when we invaded Iraq. Pardon me if I'm a little put off by a Major, Air Force, no less, asking me for my opinion on just about anything, let alone a fellow Marine and an officer."
That should have been clear. Nate would have understood him. Hell, even Encino Man and Captain America would have backed the fuck off by now. They would not have looked vaguely amused. And none of them would have asked, "Is this about the whole "the Air Force shoots Marines" thing?"
Okay. That was not what he expected. Actually, he never expected anyone to comment on that ever. Not even Rolling Stone did it when he uttered it within his hearing range. Feigning ignorance is probably futile now but he's not above wondering how the hell ever Lorne came up with this. His only concession to his slight bewilderment is raising his eyebrow. "Sir?"
The Major grins an open, friendly grin he still finds hard to get used to from a field grade. "Surprised us flyboys know about your misgivings about our ability to hit a target?"
It's clear Lorne is enjoying this. Maybe... this is his way out of about being interrogated about Cadman and why she thinks punching bags are her new friends. "Just... curious, sir."
Lorne seems to be assessing him now, as if he's wondering what he's curious about. Then he seems to have decided to settle with, "I wasn't in Iraq in 2003, if that's what you're worried about."
He wasn't so much as worried, more like intrigued by how closely the Major can pinpoint the origin of his sentiment against A10 pilots. It's not like Iraq was the only one of his deployments involving A10s and Marines and a questionable - so as not to say worst fucking ever - aim. "How do you..."
"A couple rotsy friends were." Huh, he always thought Lorne was Academy, not ROTC. "As A10 pilots."
So. That's just creepy. Superstitious young Marines would probably think Lorne made a pact with the devil, and that probably explains the awe the young enlisted men - Marines, Air Force, foreign Armed Forces - regard Lorne with. For him, though... “I’m fucked three ways from Sunday, ain't I?" he drawls, half joking.
Another grin, just as easy as the last one. “No, I was just hoping I’d get to see the Iceman squirm.” Who would have thought that Lorne of all people wouldn’t be above trying to fuck with the Iceman. “And your attempt at stalling didn't work.” Ah, right. “I still need to know what happened to Lieutenant Cadman’s hands. At least that."
He decides not to dwell on that last bit. Instead he goes for a different bait. “Why are you asking me that, sir?”
Still painting, Lorne answers him in a casual tone that doesn’t betray anything besides a mild interest, at least for those not listening closely, “Because you seemed to have been the only one brave enough to approach her when I was a little… incapacitated.”
Bravery. The one thing approaching Lieutenant Cadman in the workout room had had nothing to with. Rather irritation at first and then the same kind of professional worry that still makes him first yell at his men and then ask them if they are okay without missing a beat. He considers carefully how much he can tell Major Lorne about his encounter with Lieutenant Cadman in the workout room. In the end, he decides for, “LT got in an argument with a punching bag, sir.”
For some reason, that makes Lorne stop painting and look at him with an eyebrow raised. “Bad enough that she needed medical attention?”
From the way Lorne asked that, it’s pretty clear that he already knows the answer. That‘s what makes it so weird that he halted like that. “Yes, sir.”
Lorne makes a face and stares at the canvas but somehow he thinks Lorne doesn’t see what’s on there. “Well, fuck me.” Yeah, maybe that would help. Cadman, that is. It would help Cadman if she… No. He shuts his inner Ray up when Major Lorne blinks and is back to his semi-casual bearing. “Who won the argument?”
Good question. He considers it. “I think the LT did, sir.” It’s true, actually. He’d gone back to the workout room after spooking Keller and had had a go himself at the punching bag. That had felt distinctly different from usual. Whatever the fuck Cadman had done to it, it had had a lasting effect. Which brings him back to the question he had tried not to mull over since it all started. “Sir?”
This time, Lorne sounds just a little irritated. “What?”
On the right path, obviously. “What happened on that mission?”
For a moment, it looks as if Lorne would tell him - as if Lorne wants to tell him, or just anyone - and he wonders why he just doesn’t do it, for fuck’s sake. He doesn’t judge. Not when someone doesn’t deserve it, anyway. “If Lieutenant Cadman didn’t tell you, I’m not at liberty to tell you, either.”
As if Cadman would tell anyone what fucked her up like that. Also, much more important, as if he’d ask her. “Lieutenant Cadman didn’t tell anyone anything, sir.”
He half expects Lorne to give up now or show something of the frustration that must be somewhere beneath that semi-casual, professionally friendly surface. Otherwise Lorne wouldn’t have dragged him out here in the first place. “That’s the whole problem, isn’t it?”
“Exactly, sir.” And here everyone calls Air Force officers slow on the uptake. Really, that was quite a big intellectual feat. He finds it hard not to smirk.
He doesn’t have to, anyway, because Lorne is doing enough of it. Although it looks kind of pained, too. “Anyway… Thanks for saving the punching bag’s ass, Sergeant.”
Just for once, he thinks, he wishes Lorne would use some plain speaking. And if not with him, then at least with someone else. It’s about fucking time he tells him so, he decides. “Anytime, sir. It would be more sustainable if she could talk to someone about it, though, sir. Preferably her commanding officer.”
If Lorne kicked him off the balcony, it wouldn’t surprise him. Much. Officers have tried to kick Sergeants off all kinds of places for lesser things. But he still didn‘t expect Lorne‘s quiet admission of, “Point taken, Sergeant,” to be his only answer.
Something in that sounds almost like Cadman telling him she didn’t want to see Lorne in the infirmary. Probably a good time to change the topic. Thank God there’s something that actually interests him. “May I have a look, sir?”
Obviously a little surprised by a Sergeant’s interest in his art, Lorne narrows his eyes for a moment, then shrugs and stands a little aside. “Sure.”
He walks over to stand next to the Major, bending his head slightly to the side. Lorne’s style is interesting. Expressive and distinct, focusing more on the mood, atmosphere and coloring than on details. Which is why the smudge of bright red just this side of orange in the lower left quarter of the painting, on a balcony just like the one they’re staying on, catches his attention. It could be anything from a piece of fabric to a foreign bird but something in his head wires him to hair. He decides to ignore it the moment that thought registered.
Instead he goes for, “Sir? What are you going to do about Lieutenant Cadman?”
“Not putting any pressure on her, for starters.” Lorne is still looking at his painting, kind of contemplative. He’s pretty sure colors and composition aren’t what’s on the Major’s mind right now.
He’s also sure that what Lorne just said doesn’t make any sense. At all. “With all due respect, sir, that’s a fu… that’s not a recommendable course of action.”
The Major’s face tells him pretty clearly that there’s no use trying to veil his contempt at this superior’s clearly wrong idea of dealing with a subordinate. “Yes, Sergeant, it is, at least if it involves pressure from me.”
That makes even less sense. Who else should put pressure on a subordinate if not her immediate superior officer? “I’m not sure I can follow you, sir.”
That earns him one of Lorne’s famous “Are you really trying to fuck with me?” looks that make even forty-year-old Chief Master Sergeants reconsider their approach to the truth about an incident off-world. “I’m pretty sure you can.” No really, he can’t. He just doesn’t get… “And if you're wondering about the relationship Lieutenant Cadman and I have aside from our professional one… don’t. It’s not the point here.”
Now that is interesting. Both Lorne and Cadman trying to tell him with all vehemence possible that there is no relationship makes him a fuckload more suspicious than just snorting would have. The officers doeth protest too much. He tries to test his luck a little. “I wasn’t aware there was a relationship, sir. Other than your professional one, I mean.”
If someone had asked him how he expected Lorne to answer this, he certainly wouldn’t have said, “Don’t, Sergeant.” Most of all not with that weird kind of deathly calm and just a little bit of threatening undertone he just did.
Something in that makes him reconsider trying to test his luck against Lorne. Above all, that would make him look like a stupid fucking crackbrain. Nicely put. “Acknowledged, sir.”
Lorne nods, then looks a little… resigned. Weary, even. Huh. “Just keep an eye on her, Sergeant.” Oh really? Why him? “If I remember it correctly, you’re very proficient in handling company grade officers with all kinds of issues. Use that.” That was a fucking low blow. Using his - professional - relationship with Nate against him, that is. As if getting one wet behind the ears Lieutenant through an invasion would make him the Company Grade Officer Whisperer.
Also, why can’t Lorne do the keeping an eye on her thing himself? Probably, a voice sounding suspiciously like Ray says in the back of his mind, because he’s way in over his head. Head over heels, even. Goddammit, he thinks, if they’d just get their fucking shit together. “And then what, sir?”
A smirk now, looking a little rueful. Oh great. Lorne knows exactly what he’s asking of him. “We’ll see, Sergeant.”
We’ll see, his ass. At this rate, Lorne and Cadman will be mooning over each other into all eternity. He just wishes he’d keep remembering that this is none of his fucking business. “Yes, sir.”
At that, Lorne takes up his painting and nods at him, looking exactly as if he’d be sitting behind his desk and ending a strictly official conversation. “That would be all, Sergeant.”
Thank God, he thinks. It was all getting far too close to AOs he didn’t want want to caught dead in. How Lorne ever could rope him into this eludes him. He really has to work on his Iceman skills, it seems. “Yes, sir.”
“And Sergeant?” What, he wants to bellow at Lorne, feeling his actually pretty long fuse starting to get shorter. “Go talk to Sergeant Taveras. He’s in charge of the climbing equipment.”
Of course Lorne would say that. He wouldn’t be worth the pay for his pay grade if he didn’t. It’s still kind of annoying. “I really don’t…”
“Sergeant Taveras and the climbing equipment, Sergeant.” That was clear.
And some orders, you just don’t disobey. Not from guys like Lorne. “Will do, sir.”
With that, he’s finally free to take his leave and for a short moment, he considers going back to his ledge right away but it’s visible from the balcony where Lorne is still painting. Not even Lorne is laid back enough to let the disobedience of a very clear order slip by.
As much as he doesn’t like it, all of this points into the same direction. He really needs to go looking for a new sanctuary. Somewhere not even Lorne will put up his easel and drag him into unwanted and uncomfortable conversations. For now, though, a trip to the workout room feels to be in order. If Lieutenant Cadman happens to be there, so be it. That wouldn’t mean he’d been looking out for her. That’s Lorne’s job and next chance he gets, he’s gonna tell him so. Or possibly her. Either way, he’ll get them both off his back. That’s definitely an end that’ll justify the means.
~*~
TBC in Wishing She Was Somewhere Else Instead.
Fandom: Generation Kill/Stargate
Rating: T (language warning, guys. No, seriously.)
Genres: gen, with hints at het
Summary: All Brad Colbert wanted was some quiet but that means nothing if Evan Lorne wants to talk to you.
A/N: Moah. That was a monster of a story to write. I don't even know why it took me so long to finish it. I blame my job. Anyway, it's done. I sincerly hope you like it. Yes, writing this drained me enough that I can't come up with a more original A/N.
( Drowning on Dry Land )
( Better Treat Her Right )
Break the Door Down
"You want me, well, come on and break the door down
You want me, fucking come on and break the door down
I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready..."
Radiohead, "Talk Show Host"
It's not that he's hiding from the rest of the inhabitants of Atlantis. It's just that he needs time off now and then. Back on Earth he used to take his bike riding whenever he felt the need to get away from the confines of living on a base and that usually cleared his head enough that he was able to bear with enlisted bullshitting and a crappy chain of command for another couple days. He didn't try to smuggle his bike onto the Daedalus, though - probably would have worked, if he'd just tried hard enough, given some of the crap he'd seen in a couple of labs and common rooms - because it wouldn't have done much good anyway.
So when he's fed up with hapless scientists, nerdy techies and the brainfuck happening in the enlisted quarters, he climbs up a tower in the East section, until he gets to a door labeled “Maintenance” and “Don’t open unless in a climbing harness” and “I said don’t open the fucking thing unless you’re in a climbing harness with your ass chained to the hook left of you, dammit!” and every time he gets there, he can’t help rolling his eyes. He’s pretty sure the one who labeled it did some time in the Corps.
Anyway, usually, he opens the door - usually without a climbing harness except when it’s really stormy because he’s a Sergeant, not an idiot - and steps out onto a comfortably large ledge, kind of like an alcove. The only slightly inconvenient thing about it is the fact that there’s no railing but as the men in First Recon would have put it, “Railings are for losers.”
So yeah, that’s how it usually goes. That’s how it was supposed to go right now. Except that when he was about to convince the city that he has permission to open the goddamn door with a couple tricks he picked up from Maintenance on several mandatory cross training sessions, Major Lorne appeared in the corridor, laden with a couple of things, one of them looking suspiciously like canvas. And spotted him. With a frown. That’s not… “Let me guess, Sergeant. It’s not what it looks like?”
Well. “I’d answer your question, sir, if I knew what it looked like.” Even though he’s been here for a couple of months, Lorne’s reaction to that kind of thing still amazes him. Maybe that’s why he just can’t stop trying to push him.
Currently, it’s not working but that was to be expected. Instead of the usual assfuckery that would have gone down, Lorne looks close to rolling his eyes and answers, “I’d never have pegged you as the Queen of the Land called Passive-Aggressiva.” What? “Grey’s Anatomy reference, Sergeant. Don’t ask.” He… won’t. He’s… is he supposed to say something to that? Ray probably would have but then again… “Anyway, I’m supposed to think you didn’t just want to open a door saying “don’t open this”, ain’t I?”
There’s no getting past that guy. For all the casual irony and the occasional pop culture references, practically nothing sneaks past Lorne. Which is why he’s pretty sure the Major wasn’t guessing. He was merely looking for confirmation of what he already knew or at least suspected for a while.
He’s actually tempted to make a gesture of defeat but Lorne and he would both know it’s bullshit. It’s not like he didn’t suspect Lorne knew or at least suspected. He just kind of expected to be called on it earlier. He tries irony instead. “I’d be insulting your intelligence if I’d say yes, wouldn’t I, sir?”
It doesn't really surprise him that Lorne's answer is a grin. He had a couple of months to get used to the fact that Atlantis might have two or three officers of the familiar fuckwit variety he knew from several years in the Corps but that the majority is just a little... different. Lorne’s no exception. “Close one, Sergeant.”
Okay, so… what now? Probably wrapping his head around the fact that his lookout isn’t so secret anymore would be a good idea, and he needs to scout for a new one, as well. First of all, though, he needs to get out of this conversation with grace. Maybe directing the conversation away from him could work. He has seen working it between Lorne and Cadman.
He nods towards the objects Major Lorne had been carrying around before he’d leaned the biggest two - a piece of canvas and a folded easel - against a nearby wall. He damn well hopes that had nothing to do with Lorne not being fully back on par two weeks after being released from the infirmary. “Painting, sir?”
The Major doesn’t seem to miss a beat, not even raises an eyebrow. Only maybe looks a little exasperated. “Yes, Sergeant, painting.” It does strike him as odd a little. No-nonsense Major Lorne dallying around with brushes and paint… not what he’d expected as a pastime. “Don’t look at me like that.” He’s pretty sure Lorne’s bullshitting him about the look. Otherwise, he’d have lost his special Iceman powers. Ray would be dearly disappointed. “And do me a favor and accompany me.”
Okay, that came unexpected. And it’s not what he planned to do today. Maybe Lorne wasn’t serious, despite all evidence speaking against it. “Need someone to help you carry your supplies, sir?”
It wasn’t meant to needle Lorne and he’s pretty sure his tone conveyed that. So he’s pretty sure he has no idea where the frown on Lorne’s face just came from. “No, I need someone to answer me a few questions about one of the Marines in the contingent, Sergeant.”
What the… What the fucking fuck is this about? He’s got an idea but he’d be damned if he gave up anything on that to Lorne, decent officer or not. “Excuse me, sir?”
“Just tag along, will you, Colbert?” Clearly, that was an order.
Nothing left to say, except, “Yes, sir,” obviously.
Lorne simply nods and takes up his supplies again, seeming to make a point of not asking for help. It’s admirable, if a little stupid. His offer for help had been genuine. Would also be stupid to repeat it, though, so he just follows Lorne’s purposeful steps, telling him it’s not the first time Lorne’s in this part of the city. And here he’d been wondering how Lorne knew about the alcove.
Despite a pretty fast walk, Lorne does take his time putting up the easel and setting up the rest when they reach the balcony Lorne intended to be his view point and he wonders if it’s some more bullshitting on Lorne’s part or if the Major needs the time to prepare himself for whatever he’s going to ask him.
The good thing about this is that he doesn’t really need to talk to Lorne to keep occupied. It’s interesting enough to see Lorne set up everything, as meticulous as he usually is on duty but with a kind of quiet pleasant anticipation he hasn’t seen on the Major ever before, not even when he got Cadman something big to blow up and hasn’t told her yet.
When Lorne’s done, he takes a moment to look at the canvas. All he can see are smudges of blue, grey and a very pale yellow but discretion keeps him from looking too closely. Still silent, Lorne starts to paint, keeping it up for at least ten minutes. Other people probably would get itchy. He just gets annoyed, and he’s pretty sure now that Lorne is doing all of this on fucking purpose. He’d really love to know why.
Thankfully, after five more minutes, Lorne does him the favor of speaking to him again. “So,” he says after a few carefully easy strokes of his brush against the canvas, “Dr. Keller said you escorted Lieutenant Cadman to the infirmary when I was out of commission seventeen days ago.”
He did. He just thought that was all water under the bridge now. Or at least he hoped it wouldn’t be an issue Lorne might be asking him about. He doesn’t need Lorne to explain to him why he’s asking - after all, Lieutenant Cadman’s attempts at making them all believe she’s okay now that Major Lorne is back in the game are painfully easy to see through - but he’d still been hoping he wouldn’t. Because it puts him a fucking precarious position and because it’s fucking difficult not to hate him for doing it. “I did, sir,” he says carefully.
Lorne momentarily pauses his painting to look directly at him, kind of expectantly. What, did he really expect he’d volunteer any potentially sensitive information about one of Lorne’s team members? He never thought Lorne of all people would have to resort to going behind anyone’s back. He just stares back, daring Lorne to order him to reveal anything of the scarce information he might have on Cadman and her not exactly standard behavior.
After a moment, Lorne eventually gets back to painting but it doesn’t really feel as if he just won a staring match. Rather like Lorne felt it was silly to continue and that he didn’t need to take up with this kind of crap. “Sergeant,” he says continuing to work on his painting and continues in a rather conversationalist tone, “just to make it clear: you’re not here for interrogation. I don’t want you to compromise the trust of a fellow Marine. I’m asking for your help in dealing with certain issues of one of your own.”
He’s not sure if he heard that right. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t compromise Cadman and her continued out of character behavior such as short-temperedness, heightened irritability, a tendency to hole herself up in the workout room instead of taking part in informal Corps contingent functions and a general edginess that hadn’t been there before Lorne got himself shot up?
He decides to play ignorant. Maybe that’ll help. "I'm... not sure if I understand you correctly, sir. Who are you referring to?"
He's losing his edge, apparently. There's no other explanation for the look that Lorne throws him from half behind his canvas. It says very clearly "The hell you don't know who I'm talking about, Sergeant." His tone doesn't sound like he believes the ignorance act, either, when he says, "Then I'll just be blunt with you. I'm talking about Lieutenant Cadman and the rather uncharacteristic way she's been behaving since before I even woke up."
There goes his way out of this. He's tempted to start hating Lorne for the way he seems to know what's going on in the entire contingent. Or he would if that weren't what he usually appreciates about an officer. There is, however, still his conviction that he's not the right person to talk to about this. “I don’t think I’d be a big help in this matter, sir.”
Lorne is starting to like the smallest bit exasperated now. Somehow, there's an enormous amount of satisfaction in that. “Sergeant, if I didn’t know you’d be up to the task, I wouldn’t have asked you.”
Well. Apparently, they have a problem. And that problem is that Lorne just doesn't get it. He barely refrains from rolling his eyes at a field grade officer and tries to keep his tone matter-of-fact instead of majorly pissed off, when he says, “You know, sir, the last officer who asked for my advice and actually listened to me was a First Lieutenant, practically fresh out of Recon training, in 2003 when we invaded Iraq. Pardon me if I'm a little put off by a Major, Air Force, no less, asking me for my opinion on just about anything, let alone a fellow Marine and an officer."
That should have been clear. Nate would have understood him. Hell, even Encino Man and Captain America would have backed the fuck off by now. They would not have looked vaguely amused. And none of them would have asked, "Is this about the whole "the Air Force shoots Marines" thing?"
Okay. That was not what he expected. Actually, he never expected anyone to comment on that ever. Not even Rolling Stone did it when he uttered it within his hearing range. Feigning ignorance is probably futile now but he's not above wondering how the hell ever Lorne came up with this. His only concession to his slight bewilderment is raising his eyebrow. "Sir?"
The Major grins an open, friendly grin he still finds hard to get used to from a field grade. "Surprised us flyboys know about your misgivings about our ability to hit a target?"
It's clear Lorne is enjoying this. Maybe... this is his way out of about being interrogated about Cadman and why she thinks punching bags are her new friends. "Just... curious, sir."
Lorne seems to be assessing him now, as if he's wondering what he's curious about. Then he seems to have decided to settle with, "I wasn't in Iraq in 2003, if that's what you're worried about."
He wasn't so much as worried, more like intrigued by how closely the Major can pinpoint the origin of his sentiment against A10 pilots. It's not like Iraq was the only one of his deployments involving A10s and Marines and a questionable - so as not to say worst fucking ever - aim. "How do you..."
"A couple rotsy friends were." Huh, he always thought Lorne was Academy, not ROTC. "As A10 pilots."
So. That's just creepy. Superstitious young Marines would probably think Lorne made a pact with the devil, and that probably explains the awe the young enlisted men - Marines, Air Force, foreign Armed Forces - regard Lorne with. For him, though... “I’m fucked three ways from Sunday, ain't I?" he drawls, half joking.
Another grin, just as easy as the last one. “No, I was just hoping I’d get to see the Iceman squirm.” Who would have thought that Lorne of all people wouldn’t be above trying to fuck with the Iceman. “And your attempt at stalling didn't work.” Ah, right. “I still need to know what happened to Lieutenant Cadman’s hands. At least that."
He decides not to dwell on that last bit. Instead he goes for a different bait. “Why are you asking me that, sir?”
Still painting, Lorne answers him in a casual tone that doesn’t betray anything besides a mild interest, at least for those not listening closely, “Because you seemed to have been the only one brave enough to approach her when I was a little… incapacitated.”
Bravery. The one thing approaching Lieutenant Cadman in the workout room had had nothing to with. Rather irritation at first and then the same kind of professional worry that still makes him first yell at his men and then ask them if they are okay without missing a beat. He considers carefully how much he can tell Major Lorne about his encounter with Lieutenant Cadman in the workout room. In the end, he decides for, “LT got in an argument with a punching bag, sir.”
For some reason, that makes Lorne stop painting and look at him with an eyebrow raised. “Bad enough that she needed medical attention?”
From the way Lorne asked that, it’s pretty clear that he already knows the answer. That‘s what makes it so weird that he halted like that. “Yes, sir.”
Lorne makes a face and stares at the canvas but somehow he thinks Lorne doesn’t see what’s on there. “Well, fuck me.” Yeah, maybe that would help. Cadman, that is. It would help Cadman if she… No. He shuts his inner Ray up when Major Lorne blinks and is back to his semi-casual bearing. “Who won the argument?”
Good question. He considers it. “I think the LT did, sir.” It’s true, actually. He’d gone back to the workout room after spooking Keller and had had a go himself at the punching bag. That had felt distinctly different from usual. Whatever the fuck Cadman had done to it, it had had a lasting effect. Which brings him back to the question he had tried not to mull over since it all started. “Sir?”
This time, Lorne sounds just a little irritated. “What?”
On the right path, obviously. “What happened on that mission?”
For a moment, it looks as if Lorne would tell him - as if Lorne wants to tell him, or just anyone - and he wonders why he just doesn’t do it, for fuck’s sake. He doesn’t judge. Not when someone doesn’t deserve it, anyway. “If Lieutenant Cadman didn’t tell you, I’m not at liberty to tell you, either.”
As if Cadman would tell anyone what fucked her up like that. Also, much more important, as if he’d ask her. “Lieutenant Cadman didn’t tell anyone anything, sir.”
He half expects Lorne to give up now or show something of the frustration that must be somewhere beneath that semi-casual, professionally friendly surface. Otherwise Lorne wouldn’t have dragged him out here in the first place. “That’s the whole problem, isn’t it?”
“Exactly, sir.” And here everyone calls Air Force officers slow on the uptake. Really, that was quite a big intellectual feat. He finds it hard not to smirk.
He doesn’t have to, anyway, because Lorne is doing enough of it. Although it looks kind of pained, too. “Anyway… Thanks for saving the punching bag’s ass, Sergeant.”
Just for once, he thinks, he wishes Lorne would use some plain speaking. And if not with him, then at least with someone else. It’s about fucking time he tells him so, he decides. “Anytime, sir. It would be more sustainable if she could talk to someone about it, though, sir. Preferably her commanding officer.”
If Lorne kicked him off the balcony, it wouldn’t surprise him. Much. Officers have tried to kick Sergeants off all kinds of places for lesser things. But he still didn‘t expect Lorne‘s quiet admission of, “Point taken, Sergeant,” to be his only answer.
Something in that sounds almost like Cadman telling him she didn’t want to see Lorne in the infirmary. Probably a good time to change the topic. Thank God there’s something that actually interests him. “May I have a look, sir?”
Obviously a little surprised by a Sergeant’s interest in his art, Lorne narrows his eyes for a moment, then shrugs and stands a little aside. “Sure.”
He walks over to stand next to the Major, bending his head slightly to the side. Lorne’s style is interesting. Expressive and distinct, focusing more on the mood, atmosphere and coloring than on details. Which is why the smudge of bright red just this side of orange in the lower left quarter of the painting, on a balcony just like the one they’re staying on, catches his attention. It could be anything from a piece of fabric to a foreign bird but something in his head wires him to hair. He decides to ignore it the moment that thought registered.
Instead he goes for, “Sir? What are you going to do about Lieutenant Cadman?”
“Not putting any pressure on her, for starters.” Lorne is still looking at his painting, kind of contemplative. He’s pretty sure colors and composition aren’t what’s on the Major’s mind right now.
He’s also sure that what Lorne just said doesn’t make any sense. At all. “With all due respect, sir, that’s a fu… that’s not a recommendable course of action.”
The Major’s face tells him pretty clearly that there’s no use trying to veil his contempt at this superior’s clearly wrong idea of dealing with a subordinate. “Yes, Sergeant, it is, at least if it involves pressure from me.”
That makes even less sense. Who else should put pressure on a subordinate if not her immediate superior officer? “I’m not sure I can follow you, sir.”
That earns him one of Lorne’s famous “Are you really trying to fuck with me?” looks that make even forty-year-old Chief Master Sergeants reconsider their approach to the truth about an incident off-world. “I’m pretty sure you can.” No really, he can’t. He just doesn’t get… “And if you're wondering about the relationship Lieutenant Cadman and I have aside from our professional one… don’t. It’s not the point here.”
Now that is interesting. Both Lorne and Cadman trying to tell him with all vehemence possible that there is no relationship makes him a fuckload more suspicious than just snorting would have. The officers doeth protest too much. He tries to test his luck a little. “I wasn’t aware there was a relationship, sir. Other than your professional one, I mean.”
If someone had asked him how he expected Lorne to answer this, he certainly wouldn’t have said, “Don’t, Sergeant.” Most of all not with that weird kind of deathly calm and just a little bit of threatening undertone he just did.
Something in that makes him reconsider trying to test his luck against Lorne. Above all, that would make him look like a stupid fucking crackbrain. Nicely put. “Acknowledged, sir.”
Lorne nods, then looks a little… resigned. Weary, even. Huh. “Just keep an eye on her, Sergeant.” Oh really? Why him? “If I remember it correctly, you’re very proficient in handling company grade officers with all kinds of issues. Use that.” That was a fucking low blow. Using his - professional - relationship with Nate against him, that is. As if getting one wet behind the ears Lieutenant through an invasion would make him the Company Grade Officer Whisperer.
Also, why can’t Lorne do the keeping an eye on her thing himself? Probably, a voice sounding suspiciously like Ray says in the back of his mind, because he’s way in over his head. Head over heels, even. Goddammit, he thinks, if they’d just get their fucking shit together. “And then what, sir?”
A smirk now, looking a little rueful. Oh great. Lorne knows exactly what he’s asking of him. “We’ll see, Sergeant.”
We’ll see, his ass. At this rate, Lorne and Cadman will be mooning over each other into all eternity. He just wishes he’d keep remembering that this is none of his fucking business. “Yes, sir.”
At that, Lorne takes up his painting and nods at him, looking exactly as if he’d be sitting behind his desk and ending a strictly official conversation. “That would be all, Sergeant.”
Thank God, he thinks. It was all getting far too close to AOs he didn’t want want to caught dead in. How Lorne ever could rope him into this eludes him. He really has to work on his Iceman skills, it seems. “Yes, sir.”
“And Sergeant?” What, he wants to bellow at Lorne, feeling his actually pretty long fuse starting to get shorter. “Go talk to Sergeant Taveras. He’s in charge of the climbing equipment.”
Of course Lorne would say that. He wouldn’t be worth the pay for his pay grade if he didn’t. It’s still kind of annoying. “I really don’t…”
“Sergeant Taveras and the climbing equipment, Sergeant.” That was clear.
And some orders, you just don’t disobey. Not from guys like Lorne. “Will do, sir.”
With that, he’s finally free to take his leave and for a short moment, he considers going back to his ledge right away but it’s visible from the balcony where Lorne is still painting. Not even Lorne is laid back enough to let the disobedience of a very clear order slip by.
As much as he doesn’t like it, all of this points into the same direction. He really needs to go looking for a new sanctuary. Somewhere not even Lorne will put up his easel and drag him into unwanted and uncomfortable conversations. For now, though, a trip to the workout room feels to be in order. If Lieutenant Cadman happens to be there, so be it. That wouldn’t mean he’d been looking out for her. That’s Lorne’s job and next chance he gets, he’s gonna tell him so. Or possibly her. Either way, he’ll get them both off his back. That’s definitely an end that’ll justify the means.
~*~
TBC in Wishing She Was Somewhere Else Instead.