Team Building with Jack Landors (SPD, A Squad, #7, K+)
characters: SPD’s A Squad (Z/Bridge)
prompt #7: sunset
word count: 1000
rating: K+
summary: Z helps Bridge celebrate the third night of Hanukkah.
Team Building with Jack Landors (sunset)
by *Andrea
If there was one thing Sky actually had let himself learn from Jack’s leadership, it was how to set realistic patrol rotations. If they’d had to spend their entire shift on the streets, someone would have defected, board catchup or not. Z couldn’t promise that it wouldn’t have been her.
Instead, they were back on base in time for dinner, and Sky even dismissed them all to the mess for break. He didn’t go himself, but after the scene earlier, he was probably afraid of who they’d find there. So Sky headed upstairs, at least nominally in the direction of Command, and the rest of them were left with half an hour to eat, commiserate, and possibly yell at Jack. If he was in the mess hall.
“You guys go ahead,” Bridge said, staring off into space for a moment before catching Syd’s eye and adding, “I have to go light a candle. I’ll catch up in a few minutes.”
“Sure, sunset, go,” Syd said vaguely, waving one hand in his general direction. “We’ll save you some jello.”
On impulse, Z asked, “Can I come?”
Bridge smiled at her. “I’d be honored.”
“Just you and me to defend four cups of jello?” Dan said to Syd. “How well was this plan thought out?”
“We can take ‘em,” Syd declared. “No one messes with B Squad!”
She could hear the grin in Dan’s voice without even looking over her shoulder. “I’m starting to realize that, yes.”
Z did pause then, turning back to watch them go, and she was distracted for a long moment until she realized Bridge was watching her watch them. Dan had offered an arm, which Syd took with princess-like poise, and even in uniform they glided away like something out of a brand new and politically correct fairy tale. “Hey,” she said under her breath. “Are they--?”
Bridge was giving her a politely confused look. “Are they what?”
She frowned. “Was Dan...” She waved after them, vague but perfectly clear as far as she was concerned. “When they were dating?”
“Transgender?” Bridge supplied helpfully. “Yes. Except no, because he doesn’t actually consider himself transgender now. Or then.”
Z considered that. She knew way too much about Syd’s lesbian phase, but she hadn’t thought it was still going on. Did it count as being a lesbian if you were interested in a woman who considered herself a man? She kind of thought it did, even if she thought Bridge would probably say no.
Break was only half an hour long, and Sky would definitely be back for them in twenty-eight minutes. “Okay,” she said abruptly. “Let’s go.”
The menorah in the room Bridge shared with Sky had a place of prominence on the table between their beds. Some of the wicks would already be black, but she couldn’t tell which ones they were in the dimness. Bridge hadn’t turned the lights on when he came into the room. She heard him pick up a lighter, though, and a moment later a little flame was casting fuzzy shadows in the quiet room.
He lit the middle candle, then put the lighter down and lifted the burning candle out of the candelabra. “Bless these days with light,” he murmured, using the single flame to light another. “And these nights with hope.”
Z watched him light the second candle in line, and then, unexpectedly, he turned to her. “Do you want to do the one for tonight?”
“Um, yeah,” she said, surprised. She took a step forward. “Can I?”
“Unless you have some sort of anti-fire aura,” Bridge said, squinting at her as she reached for the candle he offered. “Nope,” he added, as her fingers closed around it and the flame flickered a little. “I guess you’re okay.”
“This one?” she said with a smile, pointing to the next unlit candle in the row.
“No!” She could hear him grin even as he folded his arms. “I mean, yeah. Just kidding.”
She held the candle up to a new white wick, waiting just long enough for the first drop of wax to melt and the wick to darken. When she pulled it back, her flame separated from a second, burning happily independent in the third spot in the menorah. She caught Bridge’s eye and pointed at the middle spot quizzically.
“Got it,” he said, taking the candle gently and placing it back in the tallest holder. Then he leaned down and blew them all out, one after the other, in quick succession.
Z couldn’t help laughing. “That’s it? You just blow them out?”
“Well, I want to eat,” Bridge pointed out. “And I can’t leave them burning while I’m not here.”
“So why light them at all?” she wanted to know, waving the tiny wisps of smoke away. “Or is that, I don’t know, insensitive? Should I ask why you don’t have an electric menorah?”
“Because I like lighting candles,” he said simply. “I think the action is symbolic of a greater wish for peace.”
“Even when you just blow them out again afterwards?” Z asked, crowding him a little as they headed for the door.
“Especially then,” he said, nodding. “Because if you light them to look at them, that’s different than lighting them just to light them. If you light them and then blow them out again right away, that’s like saying the lighting itself had intrinsic value. Like it was worth it just to light them, no matter what happened afterward.”
She got it. “Like it’s worth it to wish for peace,” she said softly. “No matter what happens.”
“Exactly.” She felt Bridge’s arm settle around her shoulders as they stepped out into the hallway. She smiled, leaning in and sliding her arm around him in return.
They managed to coordinate their steps on their way toward the lift, and she asked, “Bridge?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you light a candle with me on Solstice?”
Bridge sounded genuinely curious when he asked, “Are you going to light a candle on Solstice?”
“Yeah,” Z said thoughtfully. “I think I am.”
She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “In that case, I definitely will.”
prompt #7: sunset
word count: 1000
rating: K+
summary: Z helps Bridge celebrate the third night of Hanukkah.
Team Building with Jack Landors (sunset)
by *Andrea
If there was one thing Sky actually had let himself learn from Jack’s leadership, it was how to set realistic patrol rotations. If they’d had to spend their entire shift on the streets, someone would have defected, board catchup or not. Z couldn’t promise that it wouldn’t have been her.
Instead, they were back on base in time for dinner, and Sky even dismissed them all to the mess for break. He didn’t go himself, but after the scene earlier, he was probably afraid of who they’d find there. So Sky headed upstairs, at least nominally in the direction of Command, and the rest of them were left with half an hour to eat, commiserate, and possibly yell at Jack. If he was in the mess hall.
“You guys go ahead,” Bridge said, staring off into space for a moment before catching Syd’s eye and adding, “I have to go light a candle. I’ll catch up in a few minutes.”
“Sure, sunset, go,” Syd said vaguely, waving one hand in his general direction. “We’ll save you some jello.”
On impulse, Z asked, “Can I come?”
Bridge smiled at her. “I’d be honored.”
“Just you and me to defend four cups of jello?” Dan said to Syd. “How well was this plan thought out?”
“We can take ‘em,” Syd declared. “No one messes with B Squad!”
She could hear the grin in Dan’s voice without even looking over her shoulder. “I’m starting to realize that, yes.”
Z did pause then, turning back to watch them go, and she was distracted for a long moment until she realized Bridge was watching her watch them. Dan had offered an arm, which Syd took with princess-like poise, and even in uniform they glided away like something out of a brand new and politically correct fairy tale. “Hey,” she said under her breath. “Are they--?”
Bridge was giving her a politely confused look. “Are they what?”
She frowned. “Was Dan...” She waved after them, vague but perfectly clear as far as she was concerned. “When they were dating?”
“Transgender?” Bridge supplied helpfully. “Yes. Except no, because he doesn’t actually consider himself transgender now. Or then.”
Z considered that. She knew way too much about Syd’s lesbian phase, but she hadn’t thought it was still going on. Did it count as being a lesbian if you were interested in a woman who considered herself a man? She kind of thought it did, even if she thought Bridge would probably say no.
Break was only half an hour long, and Sky would definitely be back for them in twenty-eight minutes. “Okay,” she said abruptly. “Let’s go.”
The menorah in the room Bridge shared with Sky had a place of prominence on the table between their beds. Some of the wicks would already be black, but she couldn’t tell which ones they were in the dimness. Bridge hadn’t turned the lights on when he came into the room. She heard him pick up a lighter, though, and a moment later a little flame was casting fuzzy shadows in the quiet room.
He lit the middle candle, then put the lighter down and lifted the burning candle out of the candelabra. “Bless these days with light,” he murmured, using the single flame to light another. “And these nights with hope.”
Z watched him light the second candle in line, and then, unexpectedly, he turned to her. “Do you want to do the one for tonight?”
“Um, yeah,” she said, surprised. She took a step forward. “Can I?”
“Unless you have some sort of anti-fire aura,” Bridge said, squinting at her as she reached for the candle he offered. “Nope,” he added, as her fingers closed around it and the flame flickered a little. “I guess you’re okay.”
“This one?” she said with a smile, pointing to the next unlit candle in the row.
“No!” She could hear him grin even as he folded his arms. “I mean, yeah. Just kidding.”
She held the candle up to a new white wick, waiting just long enough for the first drop of wax to melt and the wick to darken. When she pulled it back, her flame separated from a second, burning happily independent in the third spot in the menorah. She caught Bridge’s eye and pointed at the middle spot quizzically.
“Got it,” he said, taking the candle gently and placing it back in the tallest holder. Then he leaned down and blew them all out, one after the other, in quick succession.
Z couldn’t help laughing. “That’s it? You just blow them out?”
“Well, I want to eat,” Bridge pointed out. “And I can’t leave them burning while I’m not here.”
“So why light them at all?” she wanted to know, waving the tiny wisps of smoke away. “Or is that, I don’t know, insensitive? Should I ask why you don’t have an electric menorah?”
“Because I like lighting candles,” he said simply. “I think the action is symbolic of a greater wish for peace.”
“Even when you just blow them out again afterwards?” Z asked, crowding him a little as they headed for the door.
“Especially then,” he said, nodding. “Because if you light them to look at them, that’s different than lighting them just to light them. If you light them and then blow them out again right away, that’s like saying the lighting itself had intrinsic value. Like it was worth it just to light them, no matter what happened afterward.”
She got it. “Like it’s worth it to wish for peace,” she said softly. “No matter what happens.”
“Exactly.” She felt Bridge’s arm settle around her shoulders as they stepped out into the hallway. She smiled, leaning in and sliding her arm around him in return.
They managed to coordinate their steps on their way toward the lift, and she asked, “Bridge?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you light a candle with me on Solstice?”
Bridge sounded genuinely curious when he asked, “Are you going to light a candle on Solstice?”
“Yeah,” Z said thoughtfully. “I think I am.”
She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “In that case, I definitely will.”