Dick's father had given him a bit of excellent advice, aside from telling him to be a gentleman with women. Don't drink, but if you are going to do it in the privacy of your own home, and never to excess
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Some sights you were never prepared to see and a dishevelled Richard Winters was one of them. Lipton was trying to keep his mind active, and took to running more than in the morning now. He ran at least twice a day. It was easier to focus on the breathing and the pain of the constant running than be alone with his thoughts. He had just finished his evening run when he saw the Captain. His brow furrowed and he approached. "Sir?"
He wasn't sure, but something seemed a bit off. Still, he nodded and took a seat across the table from Winters. The break was welcomed. "Thank you, sir."
"Call me Dick," he waved for a waitress. "Sir is so formal, I hate that everyone calls me sir. Like Dick doesn't exist, just this... khaki coated Captain."
People were acting weird. Zenon noticed it as she walked through the streets, trying to find Lipton to apologize to him. Only she found Winters instead and he looked like he'd been mugged or something. "Dick! Are you okay?"
Maybe he felt good, but the fact that he looked so disheveled was alarming to any of his men that might go walking by. Speirs had stopped in front of him, arms folded and a frown on his face.
"Dick, what the hell is going on?" Nix sank down into the chair across from his friend, "Zenon thinks you've gone crazy. Have you been drinking?" The idea had Nix so unsettled that he was babbling a bit.
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"Sir."
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"Everything all right sir?"
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"Fabulous. Pie?" He had two.
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