(no subject)
XXX
“Jenny’s being hit on by a pretty black,” Davis puts down the beers on the table.
“A pretty black-haired woman,” Kalti adds before that annoying grin could spread on Sullivan’s face. Blade pats Sullivan on the shoulder in mock sympathy for being robbed of a good joke as the others burst out laughing at the man’s pout.
“Is Parker coming with Ditzy and Bentley later?” Davis asks.
“Or did he find someone better to do?” Sullivan grins, ignoring the general eye-rolling.
“He went to see Abby,” Kalti mutters soberly.
They all fall silent. Then mutely raise their glasses.
To Hart.
XXX
If Connor wasn’t so tired from banging on the door for hours he’d try being angry at Abby and Cutter for not letting him occupy his strained mind with taking care of them. He should go home and rest but he’s scared of nightmares, he’d had enough as a child, thank you very much. Worry takes hold of him again. What if he’s hurt? But the one person he’d normally go to for advice is gone. He quickly dials a number.
“Hey Mike, is your mum there?”
“Only if you ask her on a date.” And Connor smiles despite himself.
XXX
Becker tries not to look into Helen’s vacant eyes as he cleans the wound on her thigh - she’d need a hospital -, shivering in the absence of her hard fire. It’s a familiar position, Helen bleeding onto the white bathroom tiles, he crouching over her body like a bloody nurse. Usually there would be bickering, but this time she’s too drained to even wince. He knows he should ask her what happened - what kind of a soldier ignores a shot-wound? - but he doesn’t really want to know the answer. She’s alive. That’s all that matters. The rest doesn’t concern him.
“Jenny’s being hit on by a pretty black,” Davis puts down the beers on the table.
“A pretty black-haired woman,” Kalti adds before that annoying grin could spread on Sullivan’s face. Blade pats Sullivan on the shoulder in mock sympathy for being robbed of a good joke as the others burst out laughing at the man’s pout.
“Is Parker coming with Ditzy and Bentley later?” Davis asks.
“Or did he find someone better to do?” Sullivan grins, ignoring the general eye-rolling.
“He went to see Abby,” Kalti mutters soberly.
They all fall silent. Then mutely raise their glasses.
To Hart.
XXX
If Connor wasn’t so tired from banging on the door for hours he’d try being angry at Abby and Cutter for not letting him occupy his strained mind with taking care of them. He should go home and rest but he’s scared of nightmares, he’d had enough as a child, thank you very much. Worry takes hold of him again. What if he’s hurt? But the one person he’d normally go to for advice is gone. He quickly dials a number.
“Hey Mike, is your mum there?”
“Only if you ask her on a date.” And Connor smiles despite himself.
XXX
Becker tries not to look into Helen’s vacant eyes as he cleans the wound on her thigh - she’d need a hospital -, shivering in the absence of her hard fire. It’s a familiar position, Helen bleeding onto the white bathroom tiles, he crouching over her body like a bloody nurse. Usually there would be bickering, but this time she’s too drained to even wince. He knows he should ask her what happened - what kind of a soldier ignores a shot-wound? - but he doesn’t really want to know the answer. She’s alive. That’s all that matters. The rest doesn’t concern him.