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Title: To Fallen Comrades
Pairing/Characters: David/Colby (mildly implied)
Rating/Category: PG13/Slash (mildly implied)
Word Count: 970 words
Spoilers: For 3.04 The Mole, 3.24 The Janus List and 4.01 Trust Metric specifically; through season four generally.
Summary: Colby celebrates an anniversary.
Notes/Warning: Mild slash; can be read as gen if, unlike me, you occasionally remove the slash goggles. *g*
Written: June 4, 2009
Colby took one of the empty seats at the bar and ordered a scotch. He was more of a beer man, but scotch had been Dwayne’s poison of choice, and since he was here because of Dwayne . . . well.
Colby slid a bill across the bar to cover his drink, then sipped at the scotch when it was placed in front of him. Only after the second sip had stopped burning a trail of fire down to his gut did he let himself remember. Afghanistan had been a jumble of sun and heat and sand; long periods of boredom interspersed with ducking gunfire and running for your life.
The only thing that had made it bearable was your buddies, and Dwayne Carter had latched onto one Colby Granger before the first day of boot camp was over. He’d become Colby’s lifeline in a place where you didn’t know which you’d die of first, boredom or enemy fire.
“Hey, soldier!” someone yelled, and Colby’s spine stiffened. “You see any action over there?”
Colby raised his eyes to the mirror behind the bar and surveyed the room behind him. It took less than a second to confirm that the guy who’d called out was young and stupid with drink. It took two seconds more for Colby to realize that the comment hadn’t been directed at him, but at the man sitting two stools down, and sporting a military cut.
He hadn’t reacted to the taunts in any way that the boisterously drunk kids could see, but Colby took in the stiff set of his shoulders.
The kid was too stupid to keep his mouth shut, and he called out, “Kill any babies over there?”
Some of his buddies laughed, but the others were starting to look uncomfortable at the turn the taunts had taken. The soldier’s fingers tensed around the glass he held.
Before it could get further than just taunts being thrown, Colby swivelled around on his stool, and faced the group of boys at the table. He pushed his suit jacket back and rested his hand on his hip, revealing the badge hanging from his belt.
“You boys really wanna go there?” he said.
Everyone but the loudmouth backed down. “We’re just messing around.” He looked like he was going to say something more, but then his eyes tracked to a spot behind Colby.
Before Colby could check over his shoulder to determine whether he was being backed up or trapped, David said, “Seriously?”
Colby hid the relief he felt at hearing David’s voice, knowing David had his back. He darted a glance over his shoulder to see David standing a foot behind him, feet spread, hands on his hips, staring down the loudmouth. His badge and gun were both showing, and the kid slowly closed his mouth and sank back further into his chair as if he was trying to disappear.
There was a flurry of movement as the kid’s friends all decided that it was time to move on. Even with Colby and David showing their badges, the kid had to be dragged out of the bar, protesting all the way.
Once the kids were out the door, David sat down beside him as Colby swivelled back around.
“What are you doing here?” Colby asked as their knees brushed beneath the bar.
“You’re welcome,” David said dryly, and Colby smiled.
“Thanks.”
David peered at the glass sitting in front of Colby. “What is that, scotch?”
Colby swirled the amber liquid before taking another sip. “Yeah.”
“You hate scotch.”
“It was Dwayne’s favorite.”
David didn’t say anything, just nodded his understanding, then signaled the bartender and ordered a scotch for himself. They sipped their scotch in silence, and David seemed content to let it continue until Colby was ready to talk.
“How’d you find me?” Colby finally asked.
David raised his eyebrows. “I’m a trained FBI agent, I’ll have you know.” A moment later he said, “You wanna talk about it, man?”
Colby shook his head, but he said, “Coming home, it was really hard. I told you. There’s things that you can’t forget, and, well, for some it was harder than others. When we . . . .” Colby’s voice cracked and he had to start over. “When we were in Afghanistan, Dwayne, Dwayne kept me sane, man. He saved my life. Twice.”
That final time had been a year ago today.
“I know,” David said. He pressed his thigh harder against Colby’s, reached out and brushed his fingers over the backs of Colby’s. “And I will always be grateful to him for that.”
Colby smiled, nodded, then shook his head again. “He was so . . . damned . . . stupid!”
“He was human.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“And he made some really bad choices.”
“You can say that again.” Colby downed the remainder of the scotch in his glass.
“He made some really bad choices.”
Colby shot David a look. “Funny, man.”
David indicated Colby’s empty glass. “You want another?”
“Nah.” Colby pushed the glass back. “Could use a beer, though.”
“And some wings?” David asked hopefully.
“And some wings,” Colby agreed, signaling the bartender.
“Extra hot.”
“Don’t push it.”
David leaned over and nudged Colby with his shoulder. “Aww, come on.”
Unmoved, Colby nudged back. “You do remember what happened the last time you had extra hot, don’t you?”
From the expression that passed over David’s face, he did remember.
“Yeah, and we’re not doing that again.”
David didn’t argue, and when the bartender set their beers in front of them, David drained his glass and reached for the beer. “Okay, I concede the point.”
“Because it was a very good point.”
“That is was,” David said, holding his bottle up, and tipped gently to the side.
Colby raised his own bottle, touched the neck of it to David’s. “To Dwayne,” he said, and they both drank.
The End
Pairing/Characters: David/Colby (mildly implied)
Rating/Category: PG13/Slash (mildly implied)
Word Count: 970 words
Spoilers: For 3.04 The Mole, 3.24 The Janus List and 4.01 Trust Metric specifically; through season four generally.
Summary: Colby celebrates an anniversary.
Notes/Warning: Mild slash; can be read as gen if, unlike me, you occasionally remove the slash goggles. *g*
Written: June 4, 2009
Colby took one of the empty seats at the bar and ordered a scotch. He was more of a beer man, but scotch had been Dwayne’s poison of choice, and since he was here because of Dwayne . . . well.
Colby slid a bill across the bar to cover his drink, then sipped at the scotch when it was placed in front of him. Only after the second sip had stopped burning a trail of fire down to his gut did he let himself remember. Afghanistan had been a jumble of sun and heat and sand; long periods of boredom interspersed with ducking gunfire and running for your life.
The only thing that had made it bearable was your buddies, and Dwayne Carter had latched onto one Colby Granger before the first day of boot camp was over. He’d become Colby’s lifeline in a place where you didn’t know which you’d die of first, boredom or enemy fire.
“Hey, soldier!” someone yelled, and Colby’s spine stiffened. “You see any action over there?”
Colby raised his eyes to the mirror behind the bar and surveyed the room behind him. It took less than a second to confirm that the guy who’d called out was young and stupid with drink. It took two seconds more for Colby to realize that the comment hadn’t been directed at him, but at the man sitting two stools down, and sporting a military cut.
He hadn’t reacted to the taunts in any way that the boisterously drunk kids could see, but Colby took in the stiff set of his shoulders.
The kid was too stupid to keep his mouth shut, and he called out, “Kill any babies over there?”
Some of his buddies laughed, but the others were starting to look uncomfortable at the turn the taunts had taken. The soldier’s fingers tensed around the glass he held.
Before it could get further than just taunts being thrown, Colby swivelled around on his stool, and faced the group of boys at the table. He pushed his suit jacket back and rested his hand on his hip, revealing the badge hanging from his belt.
“You boys really wanna go there?” he said.
Everyone but the loudmouth backed down. “We’re just messing around.” He looked like he was going to say something more, but then his eyes tracked to a spot behind Colby.
Before Colby could check over his shoulder to determine whether he was being backed up or trapped, David said, “Seriously?”
Colby hid the relief he felt at hearing David’s voice, knowing David had his back. He darted a glance over his shoulder to see David standing a foot behind him, feet spread, hands on his hips, staring down the loudmouth. His badge and gun were both showing, and the kid slowly closed his mouth and sank back further into his chair as if he was trying to disappear.
There was a flurry of movement as the kid’s friends all decided that it was time to move on. Even with Colby and David showing their badges, the kid had to be dragged out of the bar, protesting all the way.
Once the kids were out the door, David sat down beside him as Colby swivelled back around.
“What are you doing here?” Colby asked as their knees brushed beneath the bar.
“You’re welcome,” David said dryly, and Colby smiled.
“Thanks.”
David peered at the glass sitting in front of Colby. “What is that, scotch?”
Colby swirled the amber liquid before taking another sip. “Yeah.”
“You hate scotch.”
“It was Dwayne’s favorite.”
David didn’t say anything, just nodded his understanding, then signaled the bartender and ordered a scotch for himself. They sipped their scotch in silence, and David seemed content to let it continue until Colby was ready to talk.
“How’d you find me?” Colby finally asked.
David raised his eyebrows. “I’m a trained FBI agent, I’ll have you know.” A moment later he said, “You wanna talk about it, man?”
Colby shook his head, but he said, “Coming home, it was really hard. I told you. There’s things that you can’t forget, and, well, for some it was harder than others. When we . . . .” Colby’s voice cracked and he had to start over. “When we were in Afghanistan, Dwayne, Dwayne kept me sane, man. He saved my life. Twice.”
That final time had been a year ago today.
“I know,” David said. He pressed his thigh harder against Colby’s, reached out and brushed his fingers over the backs of Colby’s. “And I will always be grateful to him for that.”
Colby smiled, nodded, then shook his head again. “He was so . . . damned . . . stupid!”
“He was human.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“And he made some really bad choices.”
“You can say that again.” Colby downed the remainder of the scotch in his glass.
“He made some really bad choices.”
Colby shot David a look. “Funny, man.”
David indicated Colby’s empty glass. “You want another?”
“Nah.” Colby pushed the glass back. “Could use a beer, though.”
“And some wings?” David asked hopefully.
“And some wings,” Colby agreed, signaling the bartender.
“Extra hot.”
“Don’t push it.”
David leaned over and nudged Colby with his shoulder. “Aww, come on.”
Unmoved, Colby nudged back. “You do remember what happened the last time you had extra hot, don’t you?”
From the expression that passed over David’s face, he did remember.
“Yeah, and we’re not doing that again.”
David didn’t argue, and when the bartender set their beers in front of them, David drained his glass and reached for the beer. “Okay, I concede the point.”
“Because it was a very good point.”
“That is was,” David said, holding his bottle up, and tipped gently to the side.
Colby raised his own bottle, touched the neck of it to David’s. “To Dwayne,” he said, and they both drank.
The End