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ruzek-halstead · 4 years ago

Text

date

pairing: jay halstead x hailey upton

hailey is going on a date and jay is in severe need of a distraction. he calls on his intelligence boys for a guy's night, but that's all forgotten when hailey shows up after her date.

“i don’t even know the chicago med number, much less will’s extension of 3778.”

masterlist || ao3

warnings: swearing, fluffery, adam ruzek’s dumbassery

it starts as a day like any other. it’s early, most of the team has just gotten in, and jay is in the break room getting some freshly brewed coffee. there was no open case and voight wasn’t in yet, which meant the unit was catching up on paperwork and anything else they had been avoiding for the past week.

on his way back to his desk, jay observes vanessa leaning against hailey’s desk, as they chat. with a quick look around the bullpen, he notices kim is nowhere to be found, but he’s sure if she were here, she would be right there with them.

“i can’t believe you’re going on a date!” vanessa squeals in excitement.

two things happen in that moment.

hailey rolls her eyes and looks down at the paperwork sitting in front of her and jay trips over his chair and spills his coffee all over his desk. and paperwork.

vanessa whips around and hailey immediately stands up in shock.

“jay! are you okay?” hailey expresses her concerns, instantly making her way over to his side of the desk and collecting his most precious items so they don’t get destroyed. vanessa escapes into the break room to grab some paper towels.

jay looks up and makes eye contact with adam, who is smirking like all hell.

“yeah. shit, sorry,” he apologizes meekly. he’s used to being calm and collected - not nervous and frazzled. vanessa soaks up the coffee with paper towels and although his desk is a little sticky, it’s manageable. “thanks,” he mumbles to vanessa, as they resume their previous positions.

he attempts to act nonchalant (and like he’s not totally eavesdropping) by organizing his files.

“can you show me a picture again?”

jay crinkles one of his files by tightening his grip; he’s really trying.

“i already showed you a picture like five times, v!”

jay pales; oh god, they’ve been talking about this for a while, haven’t they?

“i’m sorry, i’m just so excited!” vanessa replies; she seems more excited than hailey is, which piques jay’s interest. “it’s been so long since you last went on a date.”

hailey rolls her eyes again. “yes vanessa, i’m aware of that, thank you.”

“and he’s a successful lawyer! like way to go off with a bang!”

jay fights the urge to roll his eyes this time. a lawyer? come on, hailey.

“if you ask me,” adam interrupts by rolling back on his chair and stuffing himself between the two detectives, “she will never do better than her ex, but that’s just my opinion.”

hailey replies by aiming a punch at his crotch, but adam is too quick (and honestly, he’s probably expecting it; with his lack of a filter, it can’t be the first time).

“where are you guys going?” vanessa continues the conversation as if adam never interrupted.

hailey continues filling in her paperwork. “we’re just going to grab a drink at a bar downtown. really simple. we’ve only met like twice.”

jay can’t listen anymore; it’s starting to cause him physical pain.

he stands from his desk abruptly and goes back to the break room with his coffee mug. there were so many emotions swarming his brain, he isn’t even sure what to think.

he’s interrupted by adam entering the break room.

“hey buddy,” he greets with a smirk. “how’s it going?”

“shut up.”

adam pours himself some more coffee, while jay sulks by the window. “you know this could all be easily avoided.”

“i don’t know to what you are referring to.”

adam rolls his eyes. “if you just told her how you felt, she wouldn’t even think twice about going on this date.”

“i do not comprehend the words that are coming out of your mouth.”

at his stubbornness, adam just stares disapprovingly. “fine; you can be like that. i’ll be sure to ask hailey to share the details of her date out loud, in graphic detail.”

jay’s jaw drops at the pure evil smirk gracing adam’s features. what an ass, jay thinks.

kevin walks in, but stops when he notices the tension in the room. “shit, is this about upton’s date?”

jay throws his arms up in exasperation and bumps his head against the wall, in hopes that it’ll spontaneously knock him out and when he wakes up, it’ll be next week.

“yeah, it is,” adam replies, handing kevin a mug of coffee (these detectives looooove their coffee). “i keep telling him this is so simple. if he just told her how she felt, she wouldn’t have to go on dates with randoms and i could win my $100 dollars.”

jay quirks an eyebrow at adam’s words. he doesn’t even look ashamed, while kevin looks a little sheepish. “there is a bet going on about you two, but it really isn’t important.”

“no, what’s important is you marching in there right now and declaring your love for her,” adam replies, motioning to the bullpen. “and then i can buy drinks tonight with my well earned $100.”

jay knocks his head against the wall again.

“no,” he mumbles.

“what’s that?” adam quirks an eyebrow. “you’ll do this for me because you absolutely adore me?”

jay shakes his head. “nope; this isn’t happening. i am going to avoid my problems,” adam groans, “and we’re going to have a guy’s night tonight.”

“a guy’s night?” kevin asks, biting his lip.

jay nods his head. “yes. i need this. this will take my mind off hailey…” he gulps in distaste, “and her date.”

“fine. but you’re buying,” adam replies, clapping jay on the back as he exits.

jay frowns. “i thought we could each pitch in for a round. do you understand how much you drink?”

“do you want our help or not?” adam smirks, popping his head back in.

“fine,” jay grumbles.

adam smirks cheekily, while kevin just shakes his head in amusement. “fantastic. i’m feeling extra thirsty today.”

“i hate you.”

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the rests of jay’s day continued on smoothly. he didn’t get much of a chance to be alone with hailey and chat, due to their lack of cases. she mostly focused on her paperwork and as much as he adored vanessa (she was adorable, how could anyone not?) she also didn’t leave hailey’s side for the day. too much excitement over hailey’s “get together with a colleague”. jay refused to call it a date, even in his mind.

instead, adam, kevin and him went straight to molly’s after the end of their shift, because the sooner jay could start drinking, the better. they were on round two (paid by him of course because adam conveniently “forgot” his wallet) when will walked in. he already had a wild smirk in his face, as he made a beeline straight towards them.

“alright, which one of you idiots called him?”

adam scoffs. “i don’t even know the chicago med number, much less will’s extension of 3778.”

“once again: i hate you.”

kevin snickers, bumping fists with adam. the two of them were enjoying this far too much.

“good evening gentlemen! looks like you all got started without me?” will teases, taking off his jacket and stealing a stool next to jay. he flags herrmann down and asks for another round. “add it to jay’s tab,” he says with a wink.

jay merely tips his bottle up in cheers and herrmann just smirks.

“alright, so why are we here?” will asks, narrowing his eyes at his younger brother.

jay opens his mouth to reply but kevin beats him to it, “upton’s going out on a date tonight.”

“and jay is handling it very well actually,” adam says, much to jay’s surprise. “he only spilled coffee all over his desk when he found out.”

will is laughing and jay is dying inside. he needs to find new friends.

“i’m sorry; are we here to distract me or sit around and talk about our feelings?”

will hands him a fresh new bottle and says, “copy you.”

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it had only been an hour, but boy, they could drink.

they kept their drink of choice mostly to beers, with adam and kevin venturing out to a few shots. but the more jay drank, the more he realized, he didn’t want to get completely plastered. while they didn’t talk about hailey and what she was doing, she was always in the back of his mind. it was stupid, he knew that. he could just talk to her; he could just tell her how he was feeling.

however, the idea of him telling hailey how he felt about her seemed equivalent to drinking car battery acid.

but then he sees a flash of blonde hair enter the bar and his bottle slips from his grip.

“jay, what the hell?” adam groans, clumsily reaching across the bar to grab some napkins to soak up the spill.

jay is too distracted to care. “hailey,” he chokes out, his mind growing fuzzy.

“yes, i know. we’re not supposed to talk about her,” he replies, rolling his eyes.

will reaches around jay (who is dumbly staring at his partner making her way over to them) to smack adam’s arms. “no dumbass, it’s hailey,” he informs him, watching as adam turns around and his mouth falls into an o. “hey hailey, how are you?” he asks politely.

“hey will, i’m good, thanks. how are you?”

it’s true that most of them were severely inebriated but even in that state, they could tell that she was full of shit. she was not good. her eyes were tired and her smile was fake, but they couldn’t tell why.

“good, thanks,” he replies slowly, sizing her up with his eyes. “actually, we were just leaving, right boys?”

kevin shoots her a smile. “yes, we were. because i’ve had a little too much tequila and it’s time for bed.”

“me too,” adam smirks, nearly falling off his stool and grabbing onto hailey’s shoulders to keep upright. “i don’t really need to go home,” he tries to whisper but he’s failing miserably, “we’re just leaving so you and jay can talk.”

jay drops his head against the bar and groans loudly.

“ooookay,” will laughs, grabbing adam’s arm and transferring his weight onto him from hailey. “kev and i will make sure he gets home safe. goodnight, you two!”

jay keeps his forehead nailed to the bar, even when he hears hailey sit in the stool next to him.

“jay,” she says quietly.

he automatically lifts his head and looks at her (how can he not? she looks gorgeous).

“how did your date go?”

a corner of her lip lifts sadly. “it didn’t.”

“what?” he snaps, much quicker than he should have. he winces but he’s too curious to care.

hailey absentmindedly begins playing with one of the old beer bottles left on the counter to distract herself; it also helped to not make eye contact with him (his eyes are just too much for her). “yeah, it didn’t end up happening. he never showed.”

“what?” jay repeats again, this time with a bit more edge in his tone.

the fact that someone stood hailey up (even though he was against this date from the beginning) severely pissed him off.

“yeah, i don’t know,” she replies sheepishly.

jay frowns. “what the hell? that’s not okay.”

“it’s fine, jay,” she protests, because of course she does.

“it’s not fine!” he replies, feeling himself getting riled up. “that’s not okay because you deserve the fucking world.”

hailey looks at him, her big blue eyes staring at him emotionally.

“god hailey, you deserve so much. you’re the best person i’ve ever known.”

hailey blushes, which is extremely rare, and she doesn’t like it. but it’s jay.

“you’re drunk, jay,” she mumbles, busying herself with cleaning up the counter.

jay stops her by grabbing her wrist; her blue eyes turn to him, nervous. “no, i’m not. i’ve never been so sure of myself.”

hailey doesn’t reply.

“i really didn’t want you to go on that date. fuck, i even spilled my coffee because i was so caught off guard.” she’s laughing at him and it puts him more at ease. “i just—god, i am so horrible at expressing my feelings. but i didn’t want you to go on a date, because i don’t want you to go on any dates, with anyone.”

hailey raises an eyebrow.

“anyone but me, of course.” there. it’s finally out there. “i was so jealous, hailey. i needed the guys to bring me out tonight and distract me so i wouldn’t ping your cell phone and crash your date. honestly, i really did think about it but then i’d have to explain why and clearly i’m so bad at this and you can stop me at any time, please.”

jay finally stops talking, but hailey isn’t saying anything. that makes him nervous.

“i was wondering how long it would take you to admit your feelings.”

that is definitely not what he was expecting.

“um, what?”

“i’m not an idiot jay!” she laughs. “you are the least clumsiest person i’ve ever met. the fact that you spilled your coffee right after my date was mentioned was definitely no coincidence.”

jay frowns. “you mean i’m not a master at hiding my emotions?”

“no, you are,” hailey snorts, “but so am i, and it takes one to know one.”

“since i’ve just spilled my heart out to you, what do you have to say to me?” he teases in a light but nervous manner. he can’t tell much from her reaction what she’s feeling.

she doesn’t say anything, she just stares at him with an unreadable expression.

he’s about to throw in the towel and take everything back, but then she throws herself off her stool and into his body. her lips meet his in a surprise kiss and surprise is an understatement.

jay’s inebriated brain takes a moment to register what is actually happening, but once he does, he surges forward with a ferocity that nearly knocks him off his own stool. hailey keeps the kiss short and pulls away, but doesn’t move from her newfound spot in between his knees.

“that was amazing, but i’m going to need some verbal confirmation,” jay teases, unable to tear his eyes away from her sheepish expression and rosy cheeks. he’s sure he’s smiling, but he isn’t sure he’ll be able to stop for the duration of the night.

hailey leans her forehead against this chest for a moment. “of course i like you, jay. don’t ask me why, i honestly couldn’t tell you.”

“you can’t tease me right now hailey, i am literally on top of the moon,” he says, and it’s too adorable, she can’t do anything but laugh.

hailey happily nuzzles into the crook of his neck and stands there as he holds her. she’s quiet for several moments, until she sighs and says, “looks like i owe ruzek a hundred bucks.”

jay’s eyes widen at the insinuation of her statement, but all he can do is join her in a laugh.

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ashdoesfandomarchieved · 4 years ago

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Valentines Day shenanigans with the ship of your choice? Or maybe board game/poker night with the main four?

(Direct sequel of midnight revelations)

It starts like this:

Mariner is teaching Tendi poker. Or well, Mariner is teaching Tendi her version of poker which involves no pants—for some reason—, various pointy objects that Sam is keeping his distance from and an abundance of multi-language profanity that is rather impressive for two women outside of the linguistics department.

Really though, Sam is impressed

Tendi, who has absolutely no poker face, is somehow winning and Mariner is somewhere between proud mom friend™ and shoving her throwing stars at the first person who pokes fun at her losing streak. Somewhere in all of this, Mariner runs out of credits and contraband, so with a sigh and a characteristic half-smirk, she tosses her last chip on the table.

“I’m going all in.”

“Your all in would be scarier if it literally wasn’t your last credit,” Sam remarks sarcastically from where he’s nursing a beer.

Mariner flips him the bird. “Whaddya you got for me, D’Vana?”

Tendi, trying to hold back her shit-eating grin and failing—again no poker face—shoves her huge pile of chips into the center of the table.

“Oh, I’m all in, baby.”

“Good,” Mariner grins back.

“Good,” Tendi replies, crossing her arms.

“Fine.”

“I’m glad you went all in.”

“So am I.”

“Please stop flirting and finish the game,” Sam mutters, rolling his eyes.

Mariner doesn’t flip him the bird this time but gives him a side-eye that would have been its usual level of pee-your-pants-terrifying if not for the light blush that dusts her cheeks.

Tendi giggles. “Wanna raise the stakes?”

“Have you met me?”

“That’s fair,” both Tendi and Sam say in the same voice. Mariner rolls her eyes but can’t suppress her smug grin.

“Loser has to ask out the next person who enters the room,” Tendi says, dramatically steepling her hands in front of her face.

Mariner snorts. Loudly. “What are we, fucking twelve?”

“You got a better idea?” Tendi taunts.

“Actually,” Mariner lets a smirk crawl across her face. “As long as we’re going with sleepover levels of dares…loser has to get the next person who walks through that door to date them for three weeks without cracking.”

Tendi cackles, throwing down her cards.

“Full house,” Sam absentmindedly notes. “Not bad, Tendi.”

“Yeah, not bad,” Mariner says, revealing her hand to be royal fucking flush. “Enjoy that date, D’Vana.”

Sam chokes on his drink, while Tendi groans. Mariner laughs psychotically. “Work on that poker face, baby girl. You’ll get it eventually.”

“Ugh, you were just letting me win.”

“Maybe,” Mariner grins innocently. Tendi scowls at her. “Oh, come on,” she laughs. “Whoever comes through that door next can’t be that bad.”

This was the exact moment that Sam realizes that the universe has a sense of humor, because Brad fucking Boimler walks through the door.

Tendi turns a little blue around the cheeks—the Orion equivalent to blushing, Sam guesses—and smiles at him, waving.

“Fuck,” Mariner hisses. “Abort mission!”

Sam and Tendi frown at her. “What?”

“D’Vana, you cannot date Boimler,” Mariner whispers furiously.

“That was the deal!” Tendi hisses back, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Babe I love you, but you can’t fuck with him like that.”

“And it’s okay to fuck with other people?”

“Yes!”

Sam slaps a hand to his face. “You fuck with Boimler every day of the week, Mariner.”

“That’s different!”

“How?” Tendi demands.

Mariner—the woman who had been promoted and demoted so many times that her file was longer than a goddamn Britannica, jumped head first into anything that remotely whispered of danger, fought with the Captain daily, snarked at superior officers, gave zero fucks about Starfleet protocol, and had probably, at some point, flipped off the devil—is rendered completely speechless.

Sam begins to rapidly connect some dots.

“It’s only for three weeks,” Tendi continues. “And Brad’s kinda cute, in like, an intense I have crippling anxiety way.”

“Brad?” Mariner repeats, looking horrified. “You call him Brad?”

“Yes?” Boimler says, coming up behind her. Mariner lets out an uncharacteristic shriek and jumps about a foot in the air.

“Dude what the fuck.”

Boimler looks very very confused. “What?”

“What?” Mariner repeats loudly, eyes widening.

“Brad, wanna go out?” Tendi chirps, smiling innocently at him.

Aw, and now Sam has two adorable friends who are blushing, well, adorably at each other and one friend who is having a complete mental breakdown in the background.

“What, really? I would love to—why aren’t you guys wearing any pants?” Boimler asks, exasperated.

Tendi lets out a snicker. “Mariner.”

Boimler gives Mariner an unimpressed look. Mariner tries to glare back, but it’s weak for her standards.

“I actually just finished my shift,” he says, turning back to Tendi. “Do you want to hang out?”

While Tendi cheers enthusiastically, Sam discreetly eyes his other friend. Mariner is kind of hyperventilating in the background, hands twitching toward the half-filled bottle of vodka she and Tendi had been chugging earlier. Sam carefully inches it away, unsure if she’s going to chug the rest of it or attack someone with it.

She makes a wounded noise at Tendi, who grabs Boimler by the arm and drags him out of the room, unreservedly talking a mile a minute about something that Sam’s already lost track of.

“What the fuck just happened.”

“I think Tendi asked Boimler on a date,” Sam replies, calmly. Mariner whips her head around and stares at him. The look behind her eyes is deranged.

“We have to break them up.”

Sun, moon and stars, the next three weeks were going to be a Mariner sized nightmare.

“I don’t get it, she’s completely out of his league—”

“Not true.”

“—they have nothing in common—”

“Sometimes opposites attract.”

“—and she’s just stringing him along! She’s going to dump him in two weeks!”

Sam sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. They were about a week into Mariner’s dare and he already was ready to throw Mariner, Tendi and Boimler—poor, clueless Boimler—out of an airlock. Mariner had already tried to break the two up somewhere around two dozen times and had only succeeded in bringing them closer together.

This of course made Mariner even more determined to sabotage her friends.

“It’s not the end of the world, Mariner.”

“Of course, it is!” she hisses at him. “They break up and then I have to deal with Boimler being sad forever while also not shit-talking my best friend and not letting him know that I was the person who set them up!”

“Or they have an amicable break up and go back to being friends. Dude, they haven’t even progressed past basic hand holding. I don’t think it’s going to be a huge heart wrenching dumping.”

Boimler and Tendi enter the room, holding hands. “I feel like you’re the only one who understands me, sometimes,” Boimler says.

Mariner’s eye twitches.

“What should I get Brad for Valentines Day?” Tendi asks five days later, apropos to nothing. Mariner sits up so fast that she hits her head on the top of her bunk.

“WHAT.”

Tendi frowns over at her, looking up from her data padd. “Valentines Day? It’s a Terra Prime holiday that humans generally celebrate yearly around the Terra season of—”

“I KNOW WHAT VALENTINES DAY IS.”

Sam winces, along with the few unfortunate ensigns who happen to be in the cabin, at the volume. “You and Boimler are celebrating Valentines Day?” he weakly asks.

Tendi grins, her tongue sticking out between her teeth adorably. “He told me about it last night and asked if we could exchange gifts!”

There’s a dull thunk as Mariner repeatedly hits her head against the wall.

“Do we need to talk about this?” Sam asks, watching Mariner chug half her weight in alcohol at the bar.

“My liver, my rules.”

“Not your alcoholic diet,” Sam sighs, taking a seat and signaling to the barman. “Although I would lay off the tequila if you want to be functional tomorrow morning.”

Mariner scowls and raises the bottle to her lips again.

“I’m talking about your feelings for Boimler.”

Mariner chokes. “My fucking what.”

Sam rolls his eyes. He had hoped—for about a millisecond—that when Tendi had joined their group that someone else would finally, perhaps, have some braincells to go around, but no, it seems that Sam Rutherford is the only rational fucking person in their dysfunctional foursome.

“Don’t be the idiot you pretend to be,” he replies, calmly taking a sip of his own drink.

Mariner narrows her eyes at him. “I don’t have feelings for—”

“I’m not an idiot either, Mariner.”

“Look,” she snaps, “I’m vaguely attracted to almost everyone, it’s just who I am. I do not have feelings for Boimler, I’m just aware that he’s. Aesthetically pleasing and nice to be around.”

“Then stop acting like a crazy person whenever he tries to date anyone,” Sam snaps back. “If you’re not interested, then you need to back off.”

Mariner is quiet for a long moment. “Do you think he and D’Vana—”

“I think they enjoy each other’s company and that they’re both kind of lonely,” Sam replies, before she can finish. “If you want to know more, talk to Tendi.”

His friend nods, soberly. Sam feels kind of bad for snapping at her, but also knows that she appreciates his honesty.

“There’s worse things then falling for Boimler,” he says, nudging her encouragingly. “Even if he is a complete spaz.”

This coaxes a weak grin out of her. “He is so fucking awkward.”

“You should tell him.”

“That he’s awkward? I have, he got all fussed up and started—”

“That you like him,” Sam specifies, grinning.

Mariner, seemingly forgetting that she had just been denying her crush on their friend, protests, “He’s dating Tendi, dumbass, I’m not going to—”

“Hey, trust me on this one,” Sam says. “Just follow your instincts.”

“My instincts are telling me to desert him on an alien planet before I become too attached.”

“Follow my instincts.”

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Mariner does not, in fact, follow Sam’s instincts.

He isn’t there for what happens next, but hears about it from an amused Tendi who swings up into his bunk that evening to give him the lowdown.

“So, Beckett has a crush on Brad,” she says, hugging his pillow to her midsection.

Sam puts down his data padd and watches Tendi very carefully. “Oh?”

“Yep. She cornered him in the cafeteria, told him his eyes were pretty and that she liked him and then left, screeching something about sitcom-b plots and Starfleet alumni. I think she has inside jokes with herself? I’m not sure what that was about.”

Sam can’t suppress the laugh that bubbles out of him. “God, she’s crazy. Are you okay?”

Tendi frowns, confused, at him. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Your best friend has a crush on your boyfriend?”

“My—my what? Wait, oh nine hells YOU GUYS THINK BRAD AND I ARE DATING?”

Sam has a sudden moment of clarity where he realizes that he does not, in fact, have all the braincells in their group.

“You aren’t?” he dumbly asks.

Tendi starts laughing. She laughs so hard she almost falls out of his bunk—he thankfully catches her in time, but it’s a close one. “Rutherford. Sam,” she wipes a tear away from her eyes. “I’m aromatic, you absolute complete dumbass.”

“You are?” Probably not the best reaction to his friend coming out, but Sam hardly has time to apologize, before Tendi is laughing at him again.

“Brad—well, I probably shouldn’t tell you, it’s his thing—but he kind of understands where I’m coming from. We were having friend dates.”

“But…Valentines Day,” he stresses.

Tendi rolls her eyes. “I asked Brad about Terra traditions and holidays and he gave me a fucking history lecture it was so boring. I did like the idea of Valentines Day and asked if I could partake in it with him. He suggested gift giving.”

Sam stares at her. “I am a dumbass.”

“You are,” she agrees. “But I need your dumbass brain to help me get Brad and Beckett together.”

“Oh, so you do have all the braincells,” he says, grinning.

Tendi’s smile is sharp. “I have no idea what you’re on about, but yes. Yes I do.”

Getting Mariner and Boimler together is way easier said than done. Mariner is avoiding everyone like a goddamn plague and Boimler is fluctuating between literally vibrating with anxiety and being depressed as shit.

“Well they definitely don’t have the braincells,” Sam says, after another failed attempt to trap the two of them in a room together.

“You need to stop talking about braincells,” Tendi sighs. “Why don’t we just tell them that they like each other?”

“We can’t do that!”

“Why?”

“It’s too easy that way!”

Tendi stares at him.

Sam stares back.

“I’m telling Brad that Beckett has squishy feelings for him,” she deadpans. “And you’re going to try to catch Beckett and tell him that I don’t have squishy feelings for him. And then we’re going to lock them in a goddamn turbolift until they get their freak on.”

Tendi either has all of the braincells or none of them.

Their plan surprisingly takes a whole lot less subterfuge than Sam was expecting and a lot more—well—emotions. He did manage to find Mariner and after guiltily admitting that he may have been a bit wrong about the nature of Boimler and Tendi’s relationship, she was off in a shot, shrieking some nonsense about “third-act bullshit” and how she didn’t sign up to be the “pawn in a romantic subplot.”

Mariner might, actually, be certifiably crazy.

Brad hears about one of the turbolifts breaking from another ensign in his department. He and Tendi subtly high-five.

Six hours later—“if there was ever a time for buffer time, that time is now, Tendi”—a grinning Mariner and a mildly disheveled, exit the turbolift.

It ends like this:

Tendi is attempting to teach Sam poker. Well. It’s not actual poker, more like a hybrid of Mariner’s version of poker and a card game from Tendi’s home world, but it’s close enough and they’re having fun, so it really doesn’t matter.

Mariner is drunk as fuck, alternating between casually hitting on a flustered Boimler and insulting the shit out of anyone who even looks in their direction.

Tendi lays down her cards. Straight flush. Sam moans in despair. Boimler lets out a shriek of stop doing that we’re in public you moron and Mariner cackles in that unhinged way of hers.

None of them have the braincells.

#star trek lower decks #sam rutherford #d'vana tendi #beckett mariner #brad boimler #star trek fanfiction #prompts #prompt response

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chicgeekgirl89 · 4 years ago

Text

Mercy is Out of Your Reach: Chapter 1

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Clay Spenser, Lisa Davis, Jason Hayes, and the rest of the team

Summary: Sonny Quinn isn't sick. And he's definitely not too sick to escape the cell he and Clay are trapped in. At least, not yet. Contains Clay whump, Sonny whump, a little torture, and a bit of Savis. Shoutout to @bluenet13 for helping with the title!

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Sonny Quinn absolutely, positively did not have a cold. Colds were for sissies and kids, not Tier One Operators. What he had was allergies. Or at least that’s what he told Jason when he arrived at the base, coughing and hacking. Because the hell he was being left behind when his brothers were taking off for a mission halfway across the world. He was not staying out of the action for a little cough and runny nose.

“Could you please cough literally anywhere else?” Clay griped, wrinkling his nose as Sonny covered his mouth with his elbow and hacked away.

“You should have stayed home,” Brock grunted.

“Let me look at you.” Trent pulled out a penlight and Sonny swatted him away with a frown. “Get that thing outta my face.”

“I thought you said you were fine,” Jason said, cracking open one eye from in his hammock.

“I am. It’s allergies.”

“To what? Behaving yourself?” Ray asked with a snicker.

Sonny kicked at him. “It’s ragweed. And pollen.”

“Right. Sure it is,” Full Metal grunted.

Sonny stood up and glared at all of them. “If ya’ll are going to be assholes I’m just going to take my charming personality to another part of this transport.”

“Good.”

“Go.”

“Yes please.”

Sonny shot them all a final scowl before trundling himself off to the back of the plane. He honestly felt a little bit like garbage; his head was full, he couldn’t breathe through his nose, and his lungs felt tight. He settled himself against a crate, letting his head drop back as he tried to take a deep breath.

The op was taking them to Morocco to gather intel for Mandy and possibly get to blow things up depending on the results. It wasn’t a Gucci mission by any means, but it was lower risk than some of the other ones they’d been on lately and that was probably good because he was already exhausted and they hadn’t even started yet.

“What are you doing?”

He cracked open an eye to find Lisa looking down at him. “Sleeping?”

“You should be home.”

“I’m fine,” he told her, even as he felt his breath catch again and tried to unsuccessfully stifle yet another cough.

“You’re sick.”

“Quinns don’t get sick,” he said automatically.

“Stop saying that!” she snapped at him. “Just because that’s the line your father lived by, it doesn’t mean you have to do it too.”

“It’s not a line. It’s a fact,” he said, sniffing as some snot tried to trickle out of his nose.

“You’re an idiot.”

“You know you keep on saying that to me, it might just hurt my feelings,” he told her with a grin.

She walked away and returned moments later with a bottle of water and an orange packet, both of which she tossed into his lap. “Drink this.”

He wrinkled his nose. “It tastes like piss.”

“Drink it anyway. Might help.”

He grumbled but she just crossed her arms and stared at him so he dumped the powdered Vitamin C into the bottle and chugged it down. “Happy?” he asked when he was finished.

“You should let Trent check you out.”

“You know, last I knew I was a fully grown adult who could make his own damn choices.”

“And last I knew you were a stubborn ass idiot.”

“Agree to disagree then.”

“If you die, it is not on me.”

“Absolutely.”

She was obviously still mad at him as she stalked away, probably to go huff at Mandy about stupid men and their lack of care for themselves. But he was fine. He just needed a couple hours of shuteye and he’d be good to go again.

He didn’t exactly feel worse by the time they landed, but he definitely didn’t feel better either. He sniffed and snorted as they gathered up their gear and headed out for whatever abandoned warehouse/hotel/house they were setting up the TOC in today.

“Ray and Metal are going high on overwatch,” Jason said as they briefed. “Clay and Sonny will be at the café. Brock, Trent and I will be in the truck. Remember this is surveillance only. As much as a it sucks,” he glanced at Eric who had the good grace not to roll his eyes at his trigger happy team, “do not engage for any reason.”

“Not even if they say something mean?” Sonny asked, then rasped out another cough.

“You’re really going to make me take Typhoid Mary over here on a stakeout?” Clay asked.

“You know, none of you are being very supportive of my decision to come and watch all your asses,” Sonny grumbled.

“All right that’s enough,” Blackburn said. “Everybody has their assignments. You roll out in twenty.”

Jason caught Sonny’s arm on the way out of the room. “You sure you’re good for this?”

“Yeah Jase. I’m fine.”

“We can do the op without you. Trent can take your spot.”

“I told you I’m fine. Ya’ll need to stop mothering me.”

Jason nodded. “Don’t screw it up.”

“Have I ever?” Sonny grinned and pointed finger guns at him. “Don’t answer that.”

“Drink this,” Clay said later when they were in position. The two of them had taken a corner table in the cafe, backs to the wall so they could keep an eye out for trouble. Both of them were in civvies, caps pulled down low over their faces, backpacks resting on the floor to keep their cover as “American tourists.”

“Why do you all keep trying to make me drink stuff today?” Sonny grumbled, sniffing at the cup Clay had put in front of him.

“It’s tea. It’ll help your throat,” Clay said.

“My throat doesn’t need any help.”

“Sonny shut up and drink the damn tea,” Jason said over the comms.

He did as he was told, sipping the bitter brew and wishing it was coffee or a beer instead. Or better yet NyQuil.

“Okay those are our guys,” Ray said, static crackling in the background. “Keep it cool and make sure you get that device right.”

Sonny shifted in his seat, angling so that the camera button on his shirt would pick up more of the room, while Clay adjusted the listening device masquerading as a pen, right on the edge of the table.

“Bravo Two we are in position,” Clay muttered.

“Read you loud and clear Bravo Six. Hold steady.”

They got about ten, good minutes before it all went to hell. One second Sonny was sitting with Clay the next he was on the floor, ears ringing and then completely blind as someone threw a bag over his head.

He struggled and kicked his feet, making contact with someone who yelled and the next thing he felt was extreme pain in his skull, likely from the butt of a rifle.

He lost time after that, coming in and out. He was being carried, or rather dragged, and whoever was doing it clearly didn’t care about his health and wellbeing. He was vaguely aware of being put into a vehicle with no idea how long the ride lasted. And when he finally came around for real he wished he’d stayed out, because there was a man spraying him with a hose.

He gasped and struggled to get into a seated position, wincing as he touched the knot on the back of his skull.

Something moved next to him. “You all right?” Clay asked, wiping water from his face. His lip was split and there was a lot of dirt on the front of his shirt.

Sonny nodded as he took a good look at their surroundings. Cement walls and floor. Barred door. No window. A prison cell. Shit.

The man who’d sprayed them growled something in a language Sonny didn’t understand and then walked away. “D’you get that?” he asked Clay.

“His equivalent of ‘Fucking Americans’ I think,” Clay said. “My Tamazight’s rough.”

“What the hell man?” Sonny asked. “Did you see anything?”

Clay shook his head, testing the strength of the bars on the door. “Nah it was all smoke and light and then they hit me in the head. You still got your comm?”

Sonny shook his head. “They must have searched us, knife in my boot’s gone. And that water took out the button cam if it wasn’t damaged already.”

His lungs constricted painfully and he coughed wetly into his hand. “All right listen,” Clay said coming to stand close to him, back to the hall in case anyone was watching. “You’re sick. You need to let me run point on this. I’ll get us out of here.”

Sonny glared at him. “I am perfectly capable of helping us escape this hellhole.”

“I know. I’m just saying let me take point. Let me take the heat.”

“I am not letting you take the heat for anything!”

With a rattling clang the cell door slid open and four men entered. Two of them pointed automatic weapons at their captives, while the other two shoved them out of the cell and down the hall.

“Let me handle it,” Clay muttered to him.

Sonny shot him a dirty look but didn’t have time to respond as they were pushed into a new room. Sonny immediately spotted a tub of water in the corner and several more men, all holding weapons. Double shit.

He and Clay were both forced onto their knees and Sonny felt the barrel of a rifle press into the back of his still aching skull. He gritted his teeth. This was the kind of thing SERE school was made for. But that didn’t mean it was going to be easy.

The man who stepped in front of them looked familiar and Sonny had to work to conceal his surprise. Farhad Mahmoudi wasn’t supposed to be in country. In fact all their intelligence said he was hundreds of miles away at his home in Iran. This whole scouting trip had been about checking into his network and planning his assassination upon arrival. And here he was, six weeks ahead of the supposed schedule.

“I am so curious,” Farhad said, “as to why two Americans were sitting in a café in a part of town they certainly shouldn’t be visiting.”

With his neatly trimmed beard, glasses, and Ramones t-shirt he didn’t look like your typical baddie, but Sonny had learned they took all shapes and sizes. It wasn’t fair. Scum of the earth shouldn’t be allowed to like the same things as regular folks.

His English was excellent, slightly accented, and Sonny seemed to remember that he’d schooled somewhere Western, maybe London or Oxford. “Well me and my buddy here, we’re just on a bit of a vacation,” Sonny said quickly, and could feel Clay’s glare without looking. He was the senior team member. If anybody was taking heat, it was him.

“A vacation? To this country? An interesting choice. Some might even say dangerous.” Farhad’s face said he wasn’t fooled.

“Well we like a little danger.” Sonny grinned at him. “Good for a man. Keeps him strong. Ladies love that.”

“I see. This is interesting because all of the American men I have met who look like you, act like you, they are not tourists.” He fixed Sonny with a look of steel. “They are American military.”

Something slammed into Sonny’s back and he choked as he fell face-first into the floor, already sore lungs clenching in his chest as he gasped for air. He heard Clay’s surprised grunt as he hit the floor beside him.

“So which is it? Air Force? No.” Sonny felt a boot grind into his back, pinning him to the ground and he coughed painfully as his lungs were further constricted. “You are not pretty enough for the Air Force. That one is. But not you. Maybe Army?”

Sonny gasped for air as the boot moved and caught him the ribs, not hard enough to break anything, but enough to make a point. “No, not Army either. Too tough for the Army. Which leaves…” Farhad’s sneakers, black Converse, stopped directly in front of his face. “Navy. Are you Navy?”

“We’re just tourists,” Sonny ground out.

“Not regular Navy then. Regular Navy cracks under pressure. But you, you are trained for this. You are SEAL’s.”

Someone grabbed Sonny’s hair and dragged him painfully off the floor toward the tub in the corner of the room, Farhad’s voice following him as he went. “I hear SEAL’s like the water. Let’s see if this is true.”

Before Sonny could even think his head was shoved under the surface.

There were tricks to water torture. You had to turn off just enough to not really feel it, but stay with it enough to hold your breath. None of that took into account the fact that Sonny’s brush with death in a torpedo tube made water of any kind an instant panic situation. He felt his body start to thrash, tried to lift his head and gulped water instead, burning inside this throat until he thought he couldn’t take it anymore and then he was yanked from the tub, gasping, dripping, and shaking.

“Hmmm, you really can hold your breath quite a long time can’t you? Let’s see for how long.”

Sonny lost count of how many times he went under. Every time he came up he could hear Clay yelling something fierce and he could only hope that they weren’t doing anything nearly as terrible to his buddy.

His lungs grew tired and it became harder and harder not to inhale water. He was close to blacking out and if that happened he was going to drown. Every ounce of adrenaline he had in him seemed to seep away as water came up his nose and down his throat. And then, mercifully, he was pulled out and dropped onto the floor, gasping and hacking away like a dying fish.

Someone pulled him to his feet and dragged him back to the cell. Clay was tossed in beside him and the door slammed shut. “Sonny!” Clay grabbed his arm and rolled him onto his side. “Sonny talk to me.”

Sonny’s chest felt like it was on fire so it took him a second to gasp out an answer. “I’m…okay,” he finally managed.

“God could you be any more stupid?” Clay asked, his voice shaky. “Next time let me take it.”

“What’d,” Sonny hacked, trying to clear mucus from his throat, “what’d you tell them?”

“Stuck with your story. We’re backpacking. Always wanted to see Morocco. Asked if they knew the best place to get some girls.”

Sonny tried to bark out a laugh but it came out as a cough instead. “Your storytelling is always something.” He managed to heave himself up and back against the wall so he could look at his friend. “They hurt you? You were yelling pretty loud.”

Clay shook his head. “Not really. Couple kicks here and there. I’m fine. I was yelling to try and get them to stop, not that they were listening. Farhad made it pretty clear they only need one of us. And I don’t think he’s particular about which one it is. He’s ready to pit us against each other, see who cracks first.”

Triple shit.

#SEAL Team #Sonny Quinn #Clay Spenser #Lisa Davis #Jason Hayes #Mercy is Out of Your Reach #Chapter 1 #Sonny whump #Clay whump #Savis #Water torture #Illness #Beating

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guiltypleasurefandomface · 4 years ago

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The British Sweets

I keep seeing the word “Candy” being said in fic by british characters, and then I keep seeing sweets we don’t have here in the UK being eaten by british characters, plus Candy to mean including chocolate. So I’m gonna just throw some sweets out there as good alternatives as a go to equivalent for if you’re in desperate need of your character having a sugar fix.

First off. It’s never candy, and sweets don’t usually include chocolate bars. If and when they do, it’s usually the bars are the fun size bars or the teeny tiny lucky bag type included in with other types of sweets. If you’ve gone to the shops and you buy a snickers and a mars bar and fry’s chocolate cream, you’ve bought chocolate bars, not sweets.

And also we call Cotton Candy “Candy Floss”. You can get three bags for £1 in Southport. Or you could before Covid 19 ruined the world. But yeah THREE BAGS. Poundland sometimes sell little tubs of tricolour candy floss but they’re £1 each. Rip off, especially if you’re in southport. Just leave poundland and go up the road to the pier and go into one of the shops opposite the arcade. THREE BAGS!! For £1!! I went to a fair once and it was 99p for one stick!

So. Character A has fucked up and they want to buy a bar of chocolate as an apology to Character B. They’’d either get a big cadbury’s milk bar or a galaxy bar. Our galaxy bars are American’s Mars Dove bars. (Dove here is a bar of soap). If they’re feeling fancy, they might buy a Cadbury’s Milk Tray, which is a box of chocolates, and if they’re feeling Really fancy and really apologetic, they might get a Cadbury’s Dairy Box. And if they have really, really fucked up and want to fork out a bit of money, they would get a Thornton’s Classic. And if the Basic Classic doesn’t scream “I am so fucking sorry for what I did” enough, they would get the continental box.

If it’s just a show of affection of a random Tuesday, they might get the heart shaped box. D’aww.

Character A wants to munch something at the cinema? No worries. The cinema sells every Nestle sweet you can name (Modern times the sharing pouches are £3.89 though, cinema prices!! Go to B&M or Home Bargains before you go to the cinema and buy from there instead, and with some cinemas you don’t even have to sneak them in cos they don’t care), plus there’s a full wall of Pic’n’mix.

Liquourice All Sorts Jellybeans Jelly Babies Jazzies - Milk chocolate disc-like sweets with hundreds and thousands on them Snowies - White chocolate disc-like sweets with hundreds and thousands on them Pear drops - boiled sweets in the shape of a pear, sort of taste like pear, and all that sugar hurts your mouth after about 2 o them Footballs - Round solid chocolate balls Torpedos - Jellybeans with a solid outer layer Strawberry Laces Raspberry Laces Cola Bottles Fizzy Cola Bottles Milk Bottles - Chewy sweets in the shape of a milk bottle. Foam Shrimps - Soft chewy sweets in the shape of prawns. Foam Bananas - Soft chewy sweets in the shape of bananas, very sweet Foam Mushrooms - Soft chewy sweets in the shape of mushrooms Black Jacks - Liqourice flavoured chew squares, like chewits Mojos - Varoety of flavours of chewy squares, like chewits, but HAVE BEEN DISCONTINUED SINCE 2012!!! Chocolate covered raisins Chocolate covered peanuts Chocolate covered Brazil nuts Space Ships - HORRIBLE sweets which is edible paper filled with sherbert in the shape of a traditional space ship Rasberry Bombs - Only in some pic-n-mix, not sure how long they were around for, they were sour chewy balls of raspberry flavoured jelly sweets. Not to be confused with Berries Berries - Raspberry and Blackcurrant flavoured jelly sweets. Apparently very nice and soft. Milk Chocolate Mice - Horrible cheap chocolate in the shape of mice White chocolate Mice - Same as above, but worse.

And you can buy any of those in a sweet shop, in little bags as well.

Other sweets not usually found in a pic’n’mix

Penny Toffees - They were small toffee discs that you could literally buy one for a penny each.

Teeth - Chewy sweets in the shape of false teeth. Vampire editions at halloween.

Strawberry softies - They were discontinued around about 2008, but a cheap company now do them and you can only get them in poundland! But they taste exactly the same. They are foam-like sweets, in the shape of a heart-shaped strawberry, and they just melt in your mouth.

Aniseed balls - Hard boiled sweets, strong aniseed flavour. Very popular with aunties. I get called an old lady whenever I buy them.

Lipstick Pops - A hard boiled sweet in the shape of a lipstick. I don’t know any kid who just ate and sucked on it like you were meant to eat it, everybody pretended they were putting on lipstick when they had one.

Now the few more acceptable usages of the word ‘Candy’

Candy necklaces - a ring of string you could wear around your neck, in theory, full of little sweet disc like beads.

Candy bracelets - same as above, but smaller for your wrists

A retro sweet that is no longer here cos it was discontinued in the 1980s, was called Spangle, and it’s slogan was “The Sweet Way to go gay”. I am not joking.

Some chocolate bars that were around a few decades ago, for when your fic is set in the 60s and 70s ;)

Fry’s Chocolate Cream which was/is dark chocolate full of fondant, still around today, unlike Fry’s Five Centres which were discontinued in the 1990s, brought back for a limited edition and then gone again. They were dark chocolate bars with flavoured fondant in the middle - Orange, Lime, Blackcurrant, Coffee and Raspberry. They now do a mint flavour bar and recently brought back the raspberry flavoured bar. Some people incorrectly called them Fry’s Five Senses, which was actually mixing up two different products apparently, but I don’t know anything about that other product. I think it was hot chocolate.

Wagon Wheels - Like two chocolate biscuit discs with marshmallow in the middle, and then the Jammie one has strawberry jam in the middle as well. They are still around today but a classic of my parents teenage years.

Caramac - My mum, god rest her soul, talked about this chocolate bar fondly. They did bring it back but “It’s not the same!” and they discontinued it again and brought it back again. Wikipedia describes it as “ a light Brown colour, and is manufactured using sweetened condensed milk, butter, various flavourings, and sugar “

The much acclaimed Aztec bar. To be honest, the way my parents described it, it’s a bit like a snickers bar without the nuts, so I guess like a mars bar, but apparently it was a lot nicer than a mars bar.

And this is not a sweet but if you have a brit in your fic and you don’t know where they would buy any of these sweets, well you just send them to Woolworths. If they’re a kid and want to spend their pocket money on some sweets, have them weigh out some from the pic’n’mix and we will all be happy bunniess

#Britpicking from afar #British sweets #British candy #British chocolate bars

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shrapnelstars · 5 years ago

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I’m listening to MatPat and Steph talk about halloween candy, and it’s super fun. I almost forgot that it was part of the FNaF pre-stream!

I’ve never heard of someone eating a KitKat in layers, but I support it. I’m also surprised that they don’t like Snickers bars. That’s one of my favorites. I understand people not liking Pay Day (giant mass of fluffy caramel covered in a thick layer of salty peanuts), but that’s my absolute favorite candy bar. I will sell you up the river for a Pay Day or a Hershey’s Cookies & Cream bar.

For fruity candy, just about anything green apple or watermelon flavored is my favorite. And for watermelon, it can be sour or sweet. Either works. Green apple tends to directly imply sour. I don’t think I’ve tasted it any other way.

Also, the US equivalent of those British chocolate smarties is called Sixlets. They’re a B- or C-tier brand that is commonly found in cheap stores with the trash candy, but they’re a nice alternative to M&M’s. They taste a sight better on the whole, if you ask me.

Stores where I live will have Mexican, Japanese, and a very scant selection of British treats, but that’s about it for treats from around the world. I’d love to try more. They never have those Mexican watermelon candies covered in chili powder, though. I have to order those online. They are so good.

Speaking of candy, Butterfinger recently came up with boxes of tiny, bite sized versions of the full candy bar, but they already had a great version of that in the 90′s with Butterfinger BB’s! Just bring that back! Missed opportunity!

#stuff #food #candy

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jeremyscottfitness · 5 years ago

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🎃 Halloween Burpee Calculator …… Happy Halloween! 👻 Here are some fun facts to think about before you go crazy with the Halloween Candy this year. The average human consumes 3.4lbs of candy over Halloween Season. The average trick or treater consumes 3 cups of sugar on Halloween that’s the equivalent to 220 sugar packets. We have broken down your candy consumption in terms of burpees for what you would have to do for what you eat. Now keep in mind these are fun size bars not full size. Please note we share this yearly as something fun ~ so before you message me “to live a little” or “enjoy some treats” or “how stupid you think burpees are” Relax and understand most people “enjoy” plenty during the year in terms of food and drinks the last think they need to do is crush 50 or more bite sized candies 🍭.... especially if you are older than about 12! Now I am not saying don’t enjoy any Halloween treats but just ask yourself is the juice worth the squeeze? Are those mini Snickers worth the burpees? Happy Halloween 🎃 enjoy in moderation of course! #jeremyscottfitness #halloween #happyhalloween #burpee #burpees #burpeecalculator #sweat #candy #workout #fitness #personaltrainer (at Jeremy Scott Fitness) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4STOyZpjrd/?igshid=tfeaa2q9apa3

#jeremyscottfitness #halloween #happyhalloween #burpee #burpees #burpeecalculator #sweat #candy #workout #fitness #personaltrainer

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anoddreindeer · 5 years ago

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“Don’t Move”

It was a quiet, clear night.

Three men slept under the cover of heavy foliage while another regarded the world around him silently at a strategic distance from the others. Insects hummed under the eaves while nocturnal predators and prey went about their nightly world under the silent silvering of the full moon high above.

It was two more days to the first objective, then another four to the second, but they'd had decent luck so far with weather and patrols both and were now somewhat ahead of schedule. If their luck held, they might even get the extra time as a two-day pass into town for some R&R. The man on watch smirked to himself at the thought of what he'd do with a two-day pass, then shook his head. Mission first, fun later.

Looking up at the moon for a moment, he rose and went to wake the next shift.

"Hammer," Amos muttered quietly. "Hammer, you bastard, wake up and smell the chemical agents. It's my turn to sleep." He reached down to poke the already-stirring larger man - never a good idea to prod him when he was more than half-asleep but funny as hell to do it when he was awake - and froze as a hiss split the night. Unless Hamilton had finally developed a nonverbal vocabulary outside of growls that reminded Amos of the brown bears he used to chase out of the garbage cans with a shotgun, there was something more than his partner in that bed roll.

"Don't. Move." He said, and he could feel Hamilton tense. Moving slowly, he reached into his pack and pulled out the heavy-duty flashlight from its pouch. With a click - and a wince, because it was fucking bright as hell and he'd just spent three hours staring out into the streetlight equivalent of the Black Hole of Calcutta - he turned the thing on and, just to fuck with him, flashed Hamilton in the face with it before slowly sliding it down the larger man's still form like he was checking him out at the beach.

The light, of course, brought the other two nearby men awake and, once they found no visible threat, complaining. Weber was, anyway. “The hell you doin’ shinin’ a fuckin’ light out at this hour? You wanna bring every Commie from here to China down on our damn heads?” Weber’s voice was muzzy with sleep - he’d been the previous watch - but he kept his voice low. Amos ignored him and kept moving the light down Hamilton’s tense form.

About halfway down, he found it. Sitting just above his teammate's ass, like some super freaky and dangerous tramp stamp, was a little black snake with white bars up and down its length. A little, pissed-off black snake Amos amended mentally as the thing hissed again, a noise all out of proportion with its size. Amos was about 96% sure everyone quit breathing for a hot second after the thing stopped, but as it seemed content to just sit where it was there was a collective exhalation that almost rivaled the light breeze.

"What does it look like?" Tunstall asked, voice low but even in that dangerous way he had. Amos moved the light a little. "Black snake, white bars, kinda small."

"Get it off me," Hamilton said, a weird tension in his voice, and Amos felt his eyebrows climbing for his hairline. "Do my ears deceive me? Is Sergeant Fucking Hammer afraid of...snakes?" Weber snickered at Amos’ remark, but Hamilton’s response was cut off by the thing shifting around; nobody breathed again until it had stilled for several long seconds. "No," Hamilton muttered emphatically, clearly trying not to upset the danger worm any more than he already had. "I have a slight problem with the fact that one of the world's most venomous snakes has decided to take up residence on my ass."

"Maybe it's an ass kind of snake. You've had every girl in the country staring at it, maybe the reptiles are trying to get a piece of that action," Amos rebutted automatically, mouth moving on autopilot as he scanned the forest floor nearby to find the kind of stick he wanted. Wasn't his first time convincing a damn snake that it wanted to be somewhere else, he just needed the right kind of stick or this night would be whole fucking lot worse.

"A comforting thought," Hamilton replied dryly, and Amos grinned to himself. Whoever said his teammate was a humorless asshole....was right, most of the time. Hamilton's Sahara-dry wit and excellent timing were buried deep beneath the surface, especially when anyone with a rank higher than lieutenant was around. Amos' smile dimmed. Brass turned Hamilton into a right joyless bastard, a stickler for orders and rules and unquestioned authority that made Amos...uneasy. Brass were people, and people made mistakes...

He shook his head and picked up a stick that looked about what he wanted before turning back to Hamilton. "Alright, hold still," he said needlessly, and he could feel the glare Hamilton sent his way like burning summer sunshine on his skin. "What are you doing?" Tunstall asked, the tension humming in his voice like a plucked guitar string. Amos took the tip of his tongue between his teeth and didn't answer; much as he loved winding his teammates up, this trick required all the concentration he had to spare.

Moving slowly, he brought the forked end of the stick up to the snake's head. Ever so gently, he eased the pronged end as close to under the thing's head as he dared; no more hissing was a good sign, the tongue flicking in and out rapidly less so. Still, he just had to press the stick carefully, just like so, move it up a little, easy does it, and...

Amos twitched the stick violently, sending the small snake flying into the night and Hamilton was up in a flash, breathing heavily. "Don't," he said emphatically, reaching out and jerking the flashlight out of Amos' hand, "ever do that again." Amos poked him with the stick he was still holding. "Thank you, Tongs. I wouldn't be alive without you, Tongs. My eternal gratitude, o manliest of men, for saving me from twelve inches of death. Any one of these responses would be appropriate and helpful, especially when I just saved your life."

Weber snickered, and Tunstall coughed suspiciously. Amos patted himself on the back internally; it took a lot to get a reaction out of Tunstall.

Hamilton stared at him for a long moment before he clicked off the flashlight. "Find a different spot to sleep, we don't know if it'll come back or not." Amos stared at Hamilton's dark silhouette for a long moment before he moved to collect the bedroll. "Such a comforting though will lull me straight to dreamland, I'm sure. You always know the thing to say to give me the best fucking sleep of my life."

It didn't take long for Amos - and the others, nobody really liked the thought of bunking with a reptile if they didn’t have to - to redo the sleeping arrangement to something less likely to let snakes come and go as they pleased. Yawning widely and pointedly, he climbed in and made himself comfortable.

"Tongs."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Amos smiled softly to himself. "Anytime."

#masters of the metaverse #bruno hamilton #i don't own masters of the metaverse i just like writing stuff for them #whumptober2019 #no.12 #short story

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