"But the expression of a well-made man appears
not only in his face,
It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously
in the joints of his hips and wrists,
It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the
flex of his waist and knees, dress does not hide
him,
The strong sweet quality he strikes through the cotton
and broadcloth,
To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem,
perhaps more,
You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck
and shoulder-side."
Walt Whitman
Nathan slowly became aware that Coop was watching
the movie less and less, and himself
more and more. The looks Cooper slid over him were
increasing exponentially in frequency
and intensity.
"Coop?" he asked, frowning slightly under
the steady blue gaze. It still unnerved him, that IV
stare. McQueen had it, too. Maybe they didn't blink
as often as humans did, he thought, or
something like that. There was something unnatural
in that stare, and yet, it held him.
"Coop?" he asked again.
Hawkes suddenly zeroed in, out of the sun, 12 o'clock
high. West never saw it coming,
suddenly pressed back against the wall, Hawkes' tongue
ramming its way down his throat.
He tried to push the tank off him, but Hawkes was
too strong.
He gasped for breath like a drowning man when Hawkes
finally released his mouth, moving
down to trail wet tongue over his jaw, hard kisses
down his throat. Desperate hands pulled at
his shirt, opening it, hands crossing the flesh.
West groaned; he couldn't remember the last time.
Cooper smiled, a calculated smile that made Nathan
wince; he'd almost taken Hawkes' life,
but he had taken his innocence. A hand rubbed over
his growing erection.
"Got any meanies, West?"
"No, Coop..."
"Get some?" Cooper kissed him again, hard.
"I'll give you this for some."
"Coop - no!" Nathan shoved against him.
Cooper's eyes grew ice cold in a second.
"No!" he screamed. "No! No! No!"
His fist smacked across Nathan's face, knocking him
from the cot.
Nathan scrabbled away across the linoleum tiles,
wiping away the blood with the back of his
hand.
"Coop, stop it. This isn't you."
"I need them!" Cooper screamed, picking
up West like a rag doll and throwing him against the
wall. Nathan slid down, real fear in his eyes, too
scared to feel the broken collar bone.
Cooper stood over him a raised his fist - a hand
caught it, twisting it back.
Cooper squealed, passing out as his arm was wrenched
from its socket.
McQueen heaved the unconscious body onto the bunk,
strapping Hawkes down.
Then he knelt beside West.
"Dammit, West, why didn't you hit the panic
button."
"I - I -" his eyes glanced to Hawkes in
the heavy restraints. "Is that really necessary?"
"I think you of all people would know, right
now, how dangerous he is, to others, and to
himself..."
"He seemed okay, then he just flipped."
McQueen sat down beside him.
"He's coming down. It's not going to be pretty."
"It was like he was possessed or something."
"It's the meanies. He'll do anything to get
some. And he is dangerous."
"I didn't think Cooper could..."
"Get this CFB, West, Hawkes isn't your buddy
anymore. He's a junkie. He will do anything
to get what he needs, even kill you, without thinking.
He's a trained killer."
"We all are, Sir."
McQueen glanced at him, then stared stonily ahead.
"You forget, Hawkes isn't human. The reason
he was never taught about Xmas in the Facility
is because killers don't need to know about stuff
like that. Hawkes and the rest of his batch
were decanted and trained as assassins. Hawkes knows
more ways to kill a man with his bare
hands than you've had hot dinners. The In Vitro that
assassinated Chartwell was one of
Hawkes' batch."
West just blinked, stunned with that bit of news.
"Watch your six where Hawkes is concerned. Even
if he beats it this time, the temptation will
always be there. Now, I'd better get a doctor to
look at that shoulder of yours.
He rose and West nodded, the pain spearing through
his chest for the first time.
Nathan leant close, offering Cooper a sip of water
through a straw. He was still sweating
slightly, but the worst seemed to be over, he hoped.
He tucked the battle scarred teddy closer
to Coop, and bent, brushing his forehead with an
affectionate kiss.
"Nathan, I'm sorry about before, you know,"
Cooper stumbled over his apology.
Nathan's soft, smiling "I know," mercifully
cut him short. "Besides, being grounded meant I
could help the Colonel keep an eye on you. And it
doesn't hurt anymore, really," he lied.
Cooper flexed his hand.
"Do you think you could get me out of these?"
Nathan shook his head.
"Only McQueen and the doctors can do that."
"Nathan..."
Nathan cut him off again, sealing his mouth over
Hawkes'.
"Did you mean it, before?" he asked Cooper,
finally.
"Yeah," Cooper answered, slightly confused.
"I thought you only liked girls. Did you have
those couple of drinks?"
West laughed softly.
"No, but nearly losing you, when the Chigs attacked,
and then on the planet, and watching
you go cold turkey, I realised," he shook his
head, not believing he was saying these words. "I
realised I'd miss you if you were gone, you stupid
tank," he smiled, stroking Cooper's cheek
softly.
Cooper frowned slightly, not realising the words
'stupid tank' had been bestowed
affectionately.
"And how are my wingless birds today?' asked
the familiar gruff voice of the Colonel, leaning
casually against the door.
Nathan blushed slightly, not knowing how long the
Colonel had been there, he hadn't been
paying attention - attention to anything but Cooper.
~
West drew to a halt outside the detox unit. He'd
not quite expected to see the sight presented
to him, Cooper, asleep, his head resting in McQueen's
lap; McQueen bent over him, tenderly
stroking his hair; Cooper's arm around the burnt
up bear.
He began to back up when McQueen glanced up, caught
his eye, and motioned him inside.
"He looks like a big kid," West spoke quietly.
"He is," McQueen agreed. "The body
and skills of a young man, but none of the wisdom or
experience. You've been alive longer than I have,
West."
Nathan frowned; it was a mind flip to think of McQueen
as being younger than he was.
McQueen leant back against the wall, still fondly
touching Cooper as he slept. "This is my
fault. For not checking on the medication they gave
him sooner, for not searching him more
thoroughly, for not watching him here or the Bacchus."
"You were exhausted, Sir, we all were. You couldn't
know."
"I did know, West. I did know, I knew exactly
what he was going through, and I did nothing
to help. I left him to get through it himself. I
made a mistake, and Cooper nearly paid the
price, on planet."
"Sir?" asked West.
McQueen met him straight in the eye.
"I know exactly what meanies can do to an In
Vitro. First hand."
Nathan absorbed this information with another frown.
"Cooper shouldn't be by himself, just because
I was. I'm going to be here for him, for as much
and as long as he needs me." He gazed down at
the young In Vitro. "The 58th was falling into
chaos and anarchy, we've got to work as a team."
"All for one," Nathan smiled wanly. Cooper's
raw words on planet had cut him, too, screaming
that nobody needed him, nobody cared.
~
The Colonel assessed the tired, nervous faces of
his squadron.
"In light of the interruption to our R&R,
and events on planet, Commodore Ross has decided
that it the 58th should complete the remainder of
their R&R on Bacchus. This time, people,
don't lose yourselves. I'd hate to seen some very
fine careers marred by any disciplinary
action. Dismissed. West," he ordered the Lt
to sit and stay with just a look.
West rose as the rest of the 58th filed out, casting
a look to the curious but retreating Cooper,
then back to the Colonel.
"Baby sitting duty, Sir?" he asked.
McQueen failed to hide the small grin of amusement.
"You got it," he agreed gruffly,
unconsciously copying Hawkes.
"Don't let him out of your sight. Strip search
him, if you have to. And if you have any real
problems, find me, if I'm not already there."
The Colonel ordered quietly. "We can't leave him
behind, but..."
"It's not exactly the perfect environment for
a recovering drug addict. I understand, Sir. I'll take
better care of him this time, Sir, I promise."
"I know that, West." McQueen's eyes, never
left his.
"How's the shoulder?" he asked affably,
squeezing it slightly.
"Fine, Sir," West almost stuttered, unused
to the Colonel being so very close, suddenly aware
of the Colonel's thumb brushing against his throat,
he felt a shiver coil through his abdomen,
heading south.
McQueen caught his eyes, and withdrew, breaking eye
contact at last.
"Just don't get in any bar fights. The last
thing I need is to spend my R&R bailing you out.
Understand this, Marine, I will leave you in there
until our time is up."
West knew in no uncertain terms that McQueen wasn't
bluffing this time.
"Dismissed, Lt," McQueen turned away slightly,
but turned back to watch West leave, thinking
that if West and Hawkes did get locked up by the
MPs, it would make his job a hell of a lot
easier.
~
Cooper was glued to the window of the ISSV like a
puppy as they neared the Aerotech
funded space station known as the Bacchus, as notorious
as any port of call for battle weary
soldiers. West and McQueen shared a look of paternal
fondness over their eager charge, while
Paul and Vanessa tried to hide awkward, anxious looks
like a couple of grade school kids,
and Shane just hung onto her mysterious black case,
the look of battle in her eyes.
~
Nathan felt a wave of panic overwhelm as the door
opened to the sudden sea of humanity in
the bar. How the hell was he supposed to keep track
of Cooper in this mess, he wouldn't be
able to let the tank out of his sight for a minute,
and the Colonel, who had faithfully promised
to remain in a support position, was nowhere to be
seen.
Cooper turned back and grinned at West, happy to
be free of the detox centre and amongst
people. Cooper, who had spent most of his life alone,
had been affected terribly by his
enforced isolation, suddenly realising how much for
granted he had taken the company of the
rest of the Wildcards, and how desperately he had
awaited each of Nathan's visits.
"I'll get us a table.." he started, but
Nathan grabbed his wrist and tugged him along behind.
"No, you can carry your own drinks back,"
Nathan instructed, just a little sourly.
Cooper's face fell a little at the tone, but he dutifully
followed West to squeeze in at the
crowded bar.
The rest of the 58th had already peeled off in their
own private agendas. As he waited for the
bartender to fill his order, Nathan curiously noted
that he did not find himself resenting the
duty he'd been assigned. It wasn't like he had anything
better to do. He'd only ever had
Kylen in his life, and now, the emptiness didn't
ache quite so badly, but he had yet to fill it.
And Neil's death, that had torn open another gaping
hole.
Cooper had been with him for that one, though. Annoyingly
in his face as ever, but not
reflecting the hatred Nate had felt when Tellus had
been destroyed. This time Cooper had
been painfully curious, wanting to understand Nathan's
loss in every terrible detail,
unrelenting in his desire to know. Nathan had resented
the invasion to the privacy of his grief
at first, but he knew why Cooper did it. He understood
Cooper enough now to forgive his
bluntness, and little by little, he found that talking
to Cooper helped. Unlike the rest of the
58th, Cooper never tired of hearing every little
intimate detail of his life with Neil, and over
the weeks, Nathan found himself becoming more and
more comfortable with telling Cooper
things, things he'd never told anyone else, not even
Neil or Kylen. Cooper became his best
friend, brother and confessor, he found himself smiling
at the idea, as though he had any room
in his heart for religion after what he had suffered,
seeing how Paul suffered. He hadn't
realised it, until it had crystallised in that instant
the chig fire had hit Cooper's hammerhead,
hadn't realised how deep his feelings for Cooper
had grown.
He slid a look sideways at the handsome In Vitro.
Damn, but did they all have to be so good
looking. A part of him was ashamed to the touches
and kisses they had shared, a part of him
didn't want to acknowledge the direction they were
headed, he didn't want to give up on
Kylen, but the deeper part of him wanted, needed
Cooper's soft touches and sweet face,
hanging on his every word. The detox centre had been
like his old tree house, and he'd
shared secrets and stolen kisses, hidden from the
rest of the universe.
He turned, slowly, finding Cooper already brooding
upon him, blue eyes studying him as
though to memorise him.
He smiled, softly, and warmed to see the smile returned.
"Coop," he began, embarrassed to find his
voice husky, refusing to break eye contact, as much
as he wanted to. "We don't need a table,"
he began, but was rudely interrupted when the
spiralling hurricane of the bar fight crashed between
them, tearing away the intimacy that had
lay between them like a blanket.
Hawkes was shoved back brutally with a racial taunt.
Nathan saw it, Hawkes' temper flare so
quick he couldn't catch it, couldn't stop the fist
that swung into the nearest of the sprawling
brawl that had slammed into him.
The red haired Lt went straight down, and should
have stayed down, but popped back up, to
West's amazement, as he'd held his breath, thinking
Hawkes had hit with enough power to
kill. He'd been on the receiving end enough to know
when Hawkes pulled his punches, and
when he didn't.
He winced as Hawkes staggered back under a blow that
had connected, hard, the red head's
turn for confusion now when Hawkes didn't immediately
hit the floor. Before he could figure
out why, West was on the guy, catching a grin from
Hawkes, a grin that was enough to put
him off hid guard and he never saw the blow that
knocked the air from his lungs; and he sank
to the beer and blood stained floor in slow motion
as everything went grey, dully aware of
Cooper screaming his name.
~
He woke and groaned simultaneously, rolling over
to mercifully only dry retch over the end of
a scratchy green military issue bunk.
Cooper pulled him back almost by the scruff of his
neck with rough gentleness, but with
enough velocity to make his next retch nearly not
a dry one.
"Coop," he complained, and then he saw
what he was supposed to see: one very pissed off
Colonel standing in front of them in the brig; arms
folded, eyes with a wind sheer factor of
minus 40. Every muscle in McQueen's body seemed to
be straining with barely controlled
anger. West wondered if he stood there mad at them
like that long enough, whether he'd have
a stroke or something.
His voice, when he finally spoke to them, was the
stuff of nightmares, the one tone you
hoped never to hear McQueen use, the voice that could
turn men into stone where they stood.
"Did I not give you an express order to stay
out of trouble, West." he began, arms still folded.
"I remember my lips moving, so I must have said
something. Did you not understand it?
Should I use smaller words and shorter sentences?"
he enquired icily.
"No Sir," West acknowledged, admonished,
annoyed to see Cooper hiding a small grin out of
the corner of his eye. He always hated that. Cooper
could get away with murder, almost, just
because he was a tank, like McQueen, and had a private
relationship with their commanding
officer that seemed to be one of indulged wayward
son and something more. It did not escape
Nathan's notice that McQueen's harsh words were reserved
for him and him alone, although
Cooper copped the occasional withering glare.
Cooper was distracted by the row in the next cell,
by the red haired Lt being equally reamed
by his CO, in no uncertain tones, though the voice
never raised in pitch.
"Mac," complained the Lt.
"No, Richie. I told you to stay out of trouble.
To keep a low profile. Just for once..."
"What? Act my age? I was! I didn't start the
fight. I just got caught up in it. And don't tell me
you've never been in a bar fight because Joe told
me differently."
"Did he," glowered Macleod darkly, and
Richie realised he'd made a fatal mistake bringing up
the subject of Joe Dawson. It would not improve MacLeod's
disposition towards him, and he
realised, might incline Macleod to leave him in here.
"Are you going to get us out of here?"
Cooper asked, drawing McQueen's fire, his ice cold stare
almost lasering Hawkes in half.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't leave
you both in here for the remainder of your
liberty?"
Cooper just looked at McQueen, all boyish innocence,
and McQueen melted. Nathan scowled.
that ploy had never worked for him, not ever.
"Well, as there were no formal charges, and
I have a certain pull with the management," he
quickly glared at both boys again as they began to
brighten, "But I warn the both of you, the
Chigs don't give second chances, and neither do I,"
he threatened gruffly, ignoring the fact that
he just had. "Now, get the hell out of here,"
he growled, fondly amused at the both of them
scrambling to obey.
~
Nathan grabbed Cooper by the arm upon their release,
pulling him close.
"Come on," he urged.
"Where?" asked Cooper, all puzzlement.
Nathan looked exasperated for a moment, then dangled
a key in front of Cooper's face,
grinning. Room 17.
McQueen watched the exchange, arms still folded,
ill disguised jealousy marring his handsome
features.
Cooper pulled his shirt over his head, then leant
over Nathan again, kissing him hungrily.
"I thought you said you didn't know about this
stuff," West paused for breath, thrown off
balance, expecting to have to guide Hawkes through
the experience, not being pounced upon
before he'd been even able to lock the door securely.
"Not girls, no," Cooper acknowledged, his
cold dog tags sliding across Nathan's bare chest as
he bent to dot kisses across his face, throat and
chest.
"Boys?" Nathan had to ask, eyebrows raising.
"Not human." Hawkes replied cryptically,
then stopped, meeting Nathan dead in the eyes. "I
let McQueen fuck me." he stated so matter of
factly it caught Nathan well off guard.
Hawkes noticed Nathan had stopped touching him. "Does
that bother you? Have you ever
been with an In Vitro before? I was told humans get
squeamish."
"No," Nathan assured, reaching up to trace
Cooper's brow. "I've seen you naked enough in the
showers," he smiled.
Hawkes drew back slightly. "Kiss me on the back
of the neck." he directed. He was asking
Nathan to prove it.
Nathan pushed Cooper back further so he could sit
up, kissing his mouth in a long slow kiss,
then beginning a path of hot, sucking kisses across
Hawkes throat, collar bone, shoulder
blade, until he moved around to behind Cooper, still
holding him in his arms, he dotted kisses
around the raised flesh on the back of his neck,
then slid his mouth over it. It tasted like the
rest of Cooper. It was warm, soft. He teased it with
his tongue, and then began to suckle upon
it.
Hawkes emitted a tiny choked on gasp, leaning forward
slightly in a gesture that was sexual
and submissive.
"Is that an erogenous zone for In Vitros?"
Nathan asked, knowing from the explicit reaction that
it must be.
"What?" grumbled Hawkes, wanting him to
get on with it.
"Never mind," grinning Nathan, bending
forward again to his task, holding Hawkes by the
shoulders.
As he sucked, Nathan found Hawkes' nipples and pulled
on them, eliciting further groans.
"Touch me here," directed Hawkes again,
guiding Nathan's hand to the flesh pressed hard
against his trousers.
Expertly, Nathan pulled open the belt and fly with
one hand, and sank his fingers in to touch
Hawkes there, finally, the hard length sliding through
his fist.
Hawkes let out a little strangled cry as West pumped
and teased him to the very brink, then
stopped, beginning to pull away.
"West," growled Hawkes, turning his name
into a two syllable word, "Finish it."
"No," breathed Nathan, tasting the tip
of his ear. "Not yet."
"Finish it and I'll show you something you don't
know about In Vitros."
West drew close and hard against Hawkes again, hand
sliding down again, curious, and
knowing Hawkes would finish himself if he didn't,
he sealed his mouth over the omphalo
again and stroked, feeling Cooper's whole body buck
and jerk as he spilt his seed into
Nathan's hand.
Nathan wasn't expecting Cooper to turn on him so
quickly, pulling him up to stand with him,
shucking off their trousers, them holding him in
a naked dance for a moment before pressing
Nathan back against the bed underneath him. Nathan
realised Cooper was still hard, harder
than he was, a situation Cooper quickly rectified,
wriggling his hand down to cup Nathan,
fingertips exploring, then dragging along the hard
muscle he found there. As Nathan reached
his summit, Cooper let go, grabbing Nates shoulders
hard, and just rubbed his body against
West's. Nathan cried out, as the friction of Cooper's
hard body on top of his brought him to the
edge and over. He felt Cooper pumping warm seed over
his stomach, as Cooper buried his
face against Nathan's throat, nuzzling like a newborn.
"In Vitros have multiple orgasms," he spoke
at last, laughter in his voice. "One of the Galaxy's
best kept secrets."
Looking up, there was a mischievous smile on his
face. He took West's hand and kissed it,
taking the tips of the fingers in his mouth, sucking
on them slightly, making Nathan squirm,
then going down on them entirely. He grinned, and
wriggled down to repeat the exercise,
eliciting incoherent verbalisations from Nathan,
this time teasing him as Nathan had intended,
leaving him hard and ready, guiding Nathan's blindly
groping hands, pushing them in. Nathan
woke with shock when he realised what he was doing,
but Hawkes moving back and forth on
top of him was intoxicating. They moved in a rhythm,
faster and deeper until Hawkes
suddenly rolled on his side, pulling Nathan with
him, so that Nathan once more had access to
the back of his neck, and kissed him there. Nathan
pushed his fingers into Hawkes once more,
but knew what Hawkes wanted. Withdrawing, holding
Hawkes hips tight, he pressed his
body close, finding that they fitted together so
naturally, and began to push in. Hawkes
pushed right back down on him, oblivious to the pain,
wanting a quick finish as West moved
inside him, eyes shut tight as he lost himself to
the sensation of Hawkes, so hot around him.
He grazed Cooper's omphalo with his teeth, grunting
as he came.
He slid free, exhausted, dazed, but it wasn't over
yet, as Hawkes rolled him on top, and he
knew it was his turn. He started a bit, pulling away,
but Cooper held him.
"Relax," he soothed, stroking sensuous
fingertips down Nathan's smile. "I won't hurt you. Trust
me." With one hand he reached down to fish amongst
West's discarded trousers for what he
knew West had brought, smearing himself with the
soft blue gel, easing it into Nathan, kissing
him slowly as he did so. Nathan warmed to the touch,
moving backwards experimentally. As
Cooper touched him, his desires burned again, and
he pushed back onto Cooper, not
prepared for the pain, but wanting it bad enough
to ignore it, eyes screwed shut tight, until he
found Cooper inside him, moving with a gentle rhythm.
He leant forward and kissed his
invitro lover, rocking back and forth, harder, faster,
pushing himself down, wanting the pain,
as Cooper filled him.
He fell forward onto Cooper, wet with sweat.
"Shit," was all he could say, his breathing
ragged. It was more than he had dreamt of. He clung
to Cooper, holding him tight. He wanted this, so
badly, and it was brilliant.
~
Alvin paused, mid game, listening to incoming commands
over his internal modem.
"You going to play that shot or just pose,"
demanded his opponent.
"In such a hurry to lose your cash?" he
taunted.
"In your dreams," she returned fire. "If
silicates dream of anything but electric sheep," she
added further.
He smiled a sly imitation of a smile, leaning languorously
over the table with his pool cue,
master of his domain.
"Did your daddy raise you to be so disrespectful,"
he pushed her buttons further.
Shane steeled herself to his wretched mind games.
What did not kill her made her stronger,
she told herself again, and watched him sink the
shot easily, but miss the next, distracted.
She seized her chance, pressing home her advantage
against the supposedly unbeatable
program of her opponent.
~
West leant against the bar, signalling for two shooters,
feeling very much in need of a drink or
several.
Nathan could feel Cooper's body pressed close against
his, his lips nuzzling at the tip of ear,
then down the back of his neck. He ducked his head
forward, away from the teasing.
"Cooper, not in public," he pleaded, But
Cooper ignored him, planting a full kiss on the
exposed neck, to which Nathan involuntarily closed
his eyes as the sensation overwhelmed
him.
"Can I get you two a room?"
Nathan snapped to attention, opening his eyes to
find the Colonel's blue ones right there in
front of him. Nathan went cherry red as he tried
to brush Cooper away from him with an
ineffectual swat.
"No need to burst a blood vessel, Lt,"
McQueen teased, very much amused. He turned away
slightly to retrieve the beer that had been placed
down automatically for him. "I see you two
boys have been keeping out of trouble," he added,
with a malicious grin that widened as
West's embarrassment redoubled.
Nathan was very much aware of Cooper's hand resting
possesively on his hip, a part of his
mind wondering if that was learned or instinctive
behaviour, but his main attention focused
solely on the Colonel. He'd never seen McQueen looking
so...at ease. He could feel Cooper's
body along the length of his, felt his own involuntary
reaction, as much as he tried to hide it
from McQueen, who was studying him with that IV stare
"Nothing to report, "Nathan muttered under
his breath, and McQueen nodded non
committedly.
He felt the sudden chill as Cooper withdrew, facing
both of them with hurt and resentment
fighting for places upon his face.
"You're keeping watch on me?" he accused
West.
"Under my orders, Hawkes. You know it has to
be done. Ross wouldn't even let you be here
had we not agreed to this condition."
"Well, I didn't. Don't you trust me?!"
he all but screamed.
"Its not about trust, Hawkes," McQueen
tried to placate him. "I know what meanies do to you,
about the temptation. We're trying to help you, Cooper,"
Hawkes leant in close, more than ready to pound the
living daylights out of his commanding
officer.
"I don't need your help." He snarled. "I
don't need anybody's help." he snarled at West. "I
don't need anybody, and I don't need you."
He pulled his fist up, tight and white, but with a
half strangled cry, he turned away at the last moment,
turning his rage upon himself instead,
ploughing his way through the tavern towards the
exit. West tried to follow in his wake, but
lost him as the crowd closed in between them.
"Coop!" he called, to no effect. He retreated
slightly, and felt a hard body pressed behind him,
and straightened, instantly knowing whose it was.
"He's gone." It was a statement, and Nathan
nodded his head in agreement.
"He thinks I lied to him - I didn't," Nathan
observed sadly.
"I know. Cooper's still a child. Things are
still black and white to him."
"He'll never trust me again."
"He'll have to, or you'll both die. He knows
that."
"I should have told him," Nathan continued
miserably. "I wasn't under orders. I wanted to be
with him."
"I know," McQueen answered tightly. "He'll
know, too," he promised.
"We've got to find him. He's at his most vulnerable
now. If anything happens to him..." West
left his vow unspoken, and McQueen found himself
envying the fierce protectiveness Cooper
evoked in West.
~
Alvin watched with artificial silicate dismay as
Shane sank the last ball, smirked, and picked
up her winnings with a flourish, slipping the folded
notes deep into her cleavage, making the
denizens of the pool hall all shift on their stools
uncomfortably.
"This game isn't over," he promised, before
slinking off into the darkness.
Shane just smiled as she unscrewed her pool cue,
feeling as though she had won the battle
and the AI war.
~
McQueen grabbed Hawkes by the collar of his shirt,
throwing him up against the bulkhead
with a very audible thud. A lesser man would have
slid down the wall but Hawkes just
sneered at him insolently, pupils already showing
the effects of the chemical he had ingested.
McQueen held him pinned against the wall with one
arm while he searched his pockets,
pulling free a bag of green meanies and waving them
angrily in his face.
"I warned you! I trusted you! You're out, Mister!"
he snarled.
"Like I care," Hawkes replied sullenly.
"You never trusted me," he added, the hurt rising up.
"Hawkes," McQueen began, letting both the
arm that pinned Hawkes and his guard down.
It was all the opening Hawkes needed, taking an almighty
swing at his commanding officer.
McQueen skidded a good metre and a half up the corridor
on his arse from the blow, dragging
himself to his feet to watch Hawkes stalk off angrily
after retrieving his contraband.
"Sir?" asked West, appearing scant seconds
later, concerned to see McQueen leaning against
the wall, winded, blood trickling from his lip.
"Hawkes is out," McQueen muttered, more
to himself than West. "I gave him every chance. He
can serve the rest of his time in the Brig for all
I care."
"I'm sure he didn't mean..." West began,
but McQueen's searing look cut him short.
"I appreciate you sticking up for your buddy,
but it's too late."
"Sir, no one ever gave you a second chance?"
he asked of McQueen, suddenly unafraid.
McQueen studied the young officer who stood in front
of him. and then he turned his thoughts
inward, remembering.
"This isn't Hawkes' fault," West reminded.
"That doctor got him addicted. He was fighting it. I
let him down. He's had a set back. I can't let him
down again." Nathan's eyes pleaded with
McQueen's.
"Alright," McQueen agreed at last. "Go
drag his arse back here. We'll tie him down if we have
to."
McQueen stood to move, but found himself slightly
unsteady, head still reeling from the blow
he'd received.
"Sir, you're hurt," Nathan observed the
obvious, moving in instantly to offer his body as
support. McQueen tried to push him away, but gave
in, more unsteady than he realised. He
wanted to be sick, but he wouldn't give West the
satisfaction of seeing him that weak. damned
implant.
West, for his part, was watching McQueen with new
eyes, new understanding, seeing all too
clearly through the chinks in the armour. Unconsciously,
he reached up and brushed
McQueen's lower lip with his thumb.
"You're bleeding, Sir," he murmured, fingertip
sliding over the blood.
McQueen's eyes blue eyes were locked on his own,
and West felt it, was overwhelmed by it,
the thick, heady heat between them, the pressure
of where McQueen's body touched his, the
feel of McQueen's face under his fingertips, McQueen's
scent, his heat.
McQueen's self control slipped, and he pressed West
up against the wall in a harsh,
demanding kiss. West all but swooned in his arms,
and it was hard to tell who was supporting
who, who was kissing who as they locked together
in the passage way, before breaking apart
breathlessly.
"My quarters," rasped McQueen, and West
nodded, flushed, like McQueen, eyes dark with
hunger.
~
Hawkes sank down miserably on the floor of the deserted
ISSV, desperately swallowing a
handful of meanies and washing them down with a half
bottle of vodka he'd swiped, his skills
as a street kid still coming in handy. He leant back
against the cold dirty metal of the interior
wall and waited for the meanies to take away his
pain. He swallowed a couple more, the
effect not happening quick enough, his pain to great
to bear for a second longer, before finally
letting free a long breath as the buzzing numbness
began to spread through his body, down to
his fingertips, coiling around his hammering heart.
His breathing slowed as the drug worked
it's magic. He let his head fall back, eyes closed,
unaware that he was sweating and crying,
too far gone now to notice the hot stream of salt
water sliding down his face for the first time.
He didn't want to be aware of anything, least of
all the tearing in his chest when he thought of
West, only being with him out of duty, not feeling.
Cooper's face creased in pain again as the
memory washed over him, that West only saw him as
some stupid tank.
He was vaguely aware of the weapons stashed above
him, in case they were called back into
action. All but him, of course. McQueen had told
him he was out of the 58th. He'd lost... he
didn't know how to think of what he'd lost. He wondered
if Wang was right, that there was a
place called Hell, and you'd go there if you killed
yourself. He wondered if In Vitros went
there, too.
A soft noise startled him, so quiet a human might
not have heard it. But he knew it,
recognised it, and the dread flamed through him like
lightning. He'd heard the tiny electronic
chirp of silicate modem.
Struggling to his feet, he began an uncoordinated
lurch towards the flight cabin, one hand
reaching out to the wall to steady himself, the other
sliding a small firearm down from the
rack, checking the round and removing the safety
in fluid careful movements. As intoxicated as
he was, his training ran deeper.
He paused at the open hatch, drawing a breath to
focus himself, tightening his grip on the
gun.
He threw himself through the hatch, saw the cross
hairs and fired.
~
McQueen went straight to the head, shrugging off
West at the door, to splash cold water over
his face, washing away the blood. He leant against
the ceramic sink for several moments,
studying his reflection in the mirror, composing
himself. West had seen Hawkes do that, too. It
must be an Invitro thing.
At last, he stood again, and turned his full attention
on West. There was that look of intensity
again. Of wanting something, demanding something
of him. The exact same look he'd fixed
on West just before he'd snatched away the picture
of Kylen. It hadn't been because he'd been
distracted or unfocused. West realised McQueen had
wanted something, and it wasn't the
U3 78 stats. McQueen just stood there, studying him,
and West knew the ball was now in his
court, as they stood, one in each room, facing each
other in a sexual stand-off.
Casually, West unbuttoned his shirt and let it drop
to the ground behind him. He walked
slowly and deliberately towards McQueen, pausing
for two heartbeats before reaching up to
slide his arms around his neck, pulling him towards
him for a kiss of exploration, testing the
very still waters, tasting the Colonel properly for
the first time.
McQueen looked at him steadily when he finished,
wry smile touching his lips, not making a
move to step away.
"I didn't think you walked that side of the
street, West," he mused.
It was West's turn to look amused.
"I lost my virginity this morning, Sir."
At this the Colonel raised one eyebrow, laconically.
"Hawkes?" he enquired.
West nodded.
"I thought so," he acknowledged.
A frown creased Nathan's forehead again.
"Sir, shouldn't we go after him."
"Like he is now, no. Not even I could hold him.
But I know Meanies. Give him a few hours,
he'll be so doped out we'll be able to round him
up without trouble."
"Is he gone, Sir?" West had to ask.
"I don't know," McQueen answered honestly.
"Hawkes' record wasn't the best to start with.
He's distinguished himself in the field, but that
counts for next to nothing, being an Invitro. If
Ross decides to kick him, there's nothing I can do."
Nathan could see the truth in every word. Invitros
couldn't lie, or if they did, did so badly. It
was a guile that took years to master.
"I'll do what I can for him," McQueen promised,
leaning forward, his breath brushing against
Nathan's cheek as he moved in to nibble the tip of
West's ear, taking it in his mouth, sucking
upon it slightly.
West sighed and leant against him, feeling the hard
body along his length. McQueen was
experienced; Hawkes was all enthusiasm but no technique.
McQueen's touch; there was a
knowing power behind it. Nathan could feel the power
beneath the skin he touched. He felt
the silken silver strands of hair through his fingertips,
trailing his hand down he delicately
circled the nub centred on the back of the Colonel's
neck. He heard McQueen draw breath, so
scared to lose control, to give in to it, like he
had for a moment in the corridor.
Nathan moved, rubbing his hips against McQueen's,
holding him tighter, pressing his lips
against McQueen's again, as he teased that puckered
little nub of flesh. He lit the fuse.
McQueen suddenly switched on, crushing West to him,
swinging him against the wall,
pressing him up against it hard, grinding his hips
into West's, forcing his tongue down his
throat.
Nathan pushed back, grabbing at McQueen's T-shirt,
pulling it up; McQueen pulled it over his
head and threw it away.
Nathan followed the scars across the chest, down,
and came face to face with Kylen Celina.
McQueen followed West's eyes down to the tag. He
took it, lifted it over his head and handed
it to West.
Nathan held it in his palm for a moment, then carefully,
without looking, placed it on the edge
of the sink. He slid his arms around McQueen's shoulders
again, pulling him close for another
kiss.
"You want this?" McQueen had to ask gruffly,
hand tightening around West's hip.
"Yes," Nathan murmured, suddenly realising
just how much he meant it.
McQueen grabbed him by the shoulders and steered
him back towards the bed. Nathan
guessed that Hawkes would have already been pressed
and pumped on the bed by now, but
McQueen was almost nervous with him, because he wasn't
Hawkes, or because he was a
natural born, he didn't know.
He slid backwards over the bed, lying down, inviting
McQueen to lie over him, push him
back against the mattress with increasingly fierce
kisses, to slide his thigh between Nathan's,
spreading his legs, rubbing his own arousal against
Nathan's. His tongue forced it's way
deeper into Nathan's mouth, harsh and demanding,
the hands holding his shoulders were
beginning bite. This is what he expected from McQueen,
hard and bitter loving, knife sharp
need clawing at him.
He gave himself up in a sigh as McQueen's teeth grazed
across his throat.
"Do it,' he pleaded.
McQueen stopped and studied him for a moment.
Nathan opened his eyes. "Just do it."
McQueen pulled away his trousers and rolled him over,
spreading him open and pushing
inside suddenly, forcibly, without any preamble.
Nathan bit down on the pillow, balling his hands
into fists, but deep inside, delighting in the
pain as McQueen reamed him in hard, dry thrusts.
The alarm suddenly sounded through the room, stopping
them in mid action.
McQueen pulled free, standing and dressing quickly.
Nathan was slower to reach for his
clothes, still feeling dazed and wide open.
~
McQueen did a quick head count. No Hawkes. Somehow,
he wasn't surprised.
"Okay, there was a report of gun fire. Set off
the alarms. The area was sealed off as quickly as
possible. Sensors show a human heat signal in here
at the time of the shot. We're talking
possible sabotage. I want this ISSV and MGHS (multi
gantry hangar system) searched from top
to bottom with a fine tooth comb. We're looking for
needles in haystacks, people."
West shouldered his gun, kneeling down to touch a
finger tip to the dark sticky pool on the
floor of the ISSV.
"Blood," he confirmed out loud. He glanced
back to the shattered bottle and scattered pills
behind him.
McQueen leant over him.
"Have that analysed," he directed, but
they already knew whose blood it was.
"Hawkes was down here, getting wasted."
McQueen surmised.
West stood.
"Do you think he just fired off a round..."
He stopped suddenly, envisioning the worst.
Hawkes hadn't been that distressed, had he? "But
there's no body," he observed glumly.
"I don't think he's dead. Not yet," McQueen
intoned soulessly.
Nathan was about to turn on him, to throw him against
the wall and scream at him, demanding
to know how he could not care, when Damphousse piped
up from the flight deck.
"Sir, I'm getting an odd reading here."
"Odd?" McQueen stepped over the blood and
into the flight deck.
"The reading's are a bit off, Colonel,"
Wang elaborated. "I think someone's been messing with
the wiring." He slipped under the console. "Make
that confirmed. There's a bomb. It's a
standard silicate device. It's wired in real deep.
Touch the wrong filament and the Bacchus is
going to have a chunk blown out of it the size of
Wrigley."
"The Bacchus is the size of Wrigley" puzzled
Damphousse.
"My point exactly," concluded Wang wryly.
"Alright, Wang and Damphousse, you're on bomb
disposal. West and Vansen, you're with me.
Looks like Hawkes ran into more than he bargained
for down here. Lets go, people."
As the three moved out, Wang made a face which more
accurately expressed just exactly how
he felt about his assignment than words ever could.
"Phousse nodded in agreement. They
wriggled together under the console and stared up
at the silicate bomb, wired to the underside
of the control panel like a spider's web against
a window.
"I always forget. Is it the red wire or the
blue wire," sighed Wang, tone dripping with irony.
"I thought it was the green wire." Offered
Damphousse helpfully.
Wang just scowled, really trying to remember the
specs from training now.
"Phillips head," he asked for at last,
scrunching up his face as he studied the blinking circuit
board above him.
~
Cooper came to with a start, snapping his head up,
and instantly regretted it, groaning as grey
frizzled through his brain again, blinking away blood
from the gash the AI had struck on him
when he'd tried to struggle as he was dragged down
here.
"Hello. Welcome to my secret place. All the
comforts of home. Well, actually, I've had to
improvise quite a bit. I'm afraid interior decoration
just isn't my thing."
Hawkes moved his head again and was stung with another
wash of grey. He sagged slightly
and felt the wires that bound him to the metal pipe
above slice into his wrists. He straightened
the moment the pain bit into his consciousness.
"You know, I'm pretty pissed that you interrupted
me. I hadn't quite finished, and I'm sure
they'll have discovered my little surprise by now,
instead of during launch like they were
supposed to. Well, I would be pissed if my programming
allowed for it. There's still quite a
debate as to whether Strangheim's virus really gave
us consciousness, independent thought or
emotions. What do you think? Most people think Invitros
can't feel either. I'm curious," he
jabbed a finger into the bullet wound in Hawkes side,
pushing down in it. Hawkes let out a
guttural groan.
" Did you feel that? Does that hurt when I do
that? I bet it does. Do you want me to stop. I bet
you do." he grinned, Cheshire like, leaning
right into Hawkes face. He pushed and wiggled
deeper, dragging further groans from Hawkes as he
hung there, naked, bleeding and crucified.
Alvin freed himself of Hawkes and turned to rummage
through his tool kit, finally producing a
small laser, which he switched on and waved in front
of Cooper's face. Cooper drew back as
the thin red beam passed near his face.
"Hmm," Alvin pursed his lips. "Cut
of the nose to spite the face?" he considered out loud. "No,
much too handsome for that, I think." He leant
forward quickly, forcing his plastic tongue
down Hawkes throat. Cooper gagged and spluttered
as he withdrew.
"I wonder what it will feel like, this laser
slicing into your flesh," Alvin mused, carefully tracing
a line down Hawkes' chest, not deep, but enough to
hurt, the wound cauterising itself so it
never bled.
"Do you expect me to talk?" Cooper snarled,
hissing through gritted teeth.
Alvin looked up brightly, almost gleefully.
"Oh no, Lieutenant, I expect you to die."
~
Vansen handed the Colonel the blood test confirming
it was Cooper's as McQueen relayed the
situation to Ross aboard the Saratoga, noticeably
omitting any reference to Cooper's drug
addiction in his report, or the role it had played
in his apparent capture and/or murder by the
rogue AI.
Nathan could hear Ross hitting the roof over the
channel, wanting to know how an AI had
gotten aboard a known venue for troops on leave.
Heads were going to role in certain
sections.
McQueen ended the communication, and for a moment,
Nathan thought he saw recrimination
and anguish in his eyes, then it was gone, schooled
into the mask he wore for command. This
was the Colonel, and not the Invitro he had given
himself to in what seemed like an eternity
ago. If it was possible, these last 40 minutes had
aged them years.
~
Cooper could hear himself screaming, not really sure
it was himself, never having heard
himself scream like that before. Not even when those
punks had tried to hang him, or when
the Monitor had tried to erase him, or even in battle,
had he been so sure he was going to die.
He was going to die. The silicate hadn't asked him
any questions. He was just playing with
him, like a kid pulling the wings off a bug, before
he crushed it underfoot. As only a Lt, he
had no information for the silicates that they did
not already have. His sole use was in
entertainment, not information. It was just mindless
torture, cruelty for the sake of cruelly, the
kind of cruelty that had dogged him all his young
life.
He struggled, straining at the wires that held him
fast, ignoring the pain as they cut into his
skin, trying to get away from the AI, trying to get
away from what the AI was doing to him.
Deep inside, tearing him open, whispering hateful
insults in his ear. He blinked back the
tears. This wasn't the first time. The damn AI knew
this wasn't the first time. That was the
worst of it. It knew.
~
McQueen checked the readout again.
"We've got a heat register in the basement.
4 floors beneath us. Could be human, could be hot
equipment, shielding and bulkheads are stopping us
getting an accurate reading.
If it was Hawkes, he and the AI had moved fast.
He glanced up at the anxious faces of his number
one and number two.
"Vansen, you take the port side, and watch your
six. There's no way to tell how many AI's
there are down there. Could be a whole nest, and
we're the exterminators." He straightened.
"West, you're with me."
Nathan relaxed a little, though still not able to
fathom what was going on behind those cold
blue eyes. Still sore and unsated, he pushed those
feelings aside. Now wasn't the time.
~
Alvin readjusted his shirt and jacket.
"Tell me," he rasped in his Clint Eastwwod
voice. "How does it feel to be screwed over by
humans and AI's."
Hawkes raised his head slowley, glowering.
"Get fucked."
A smile twitched at Alvin's lips.
"I believe I just did. No, wait, that was you.
You're the one who's fucked."
Alvin held up the full syringe, smiling his little
half smile.
"I wonder how much of this Invitros can take.
Guess we're going to find out. We'll consider
this an experiment, shall we?"
"Go to hell," Hawkes muttered.
Alvin shook his head. "There is no hell for
Silicates or Invitros. I thought you wanted this.
Now I'm going to give it to you."
He waved the full syringe in front of Hawkes, so
he could see and know exactly what it was.
"Hell of a thing, killin' a man," drawled
Alvin, mocking him.
He pressed the luminous green filled syringe deep
into Hawkes arm, provoking a small grunt
as he pushed the plunger home.
"How long before you think you'll lose consciousness,
Tank?" he asked, sneering the racial
slur.
"Fuck you," Hawkes managed to say.
Alvin just smiled. "I don't think so."
Then he stopped smiling, standing completely still, he
made an odd noise, like his hard drive wasn't synching,
and fell forward to lie flat on the
ground, face down, Vansen's K-bar sticking up from
the back of his head.
Shane pulled the needle from Hawkes' arm, but saw
to her dismay it was empty. She threw it
away angrily, then placed her foot in the middle
of Alvin's back and wrenched her knife free.
She cut Hawkes' down, catching him as he fell, kneeling
and cradling him in her arms.
He opened his eyes a crack, struggling to focus.
"Shane," he rasped.
"I'm here. Everything's okay now," she
soothed, softly smoothing his hair as she held him.
His eyelids fluttered. He grabbed hold of her for
a moment, in almost a spasm of pain, then let
go. She felt him relax slightly against her, a look
of resignation slide over his face.
"I'm glad I kissed you that time," he forced
the words out, the touch of a sad smile on his lips.
"I wouldn't want to die not knowing what it
felt like, to kiss a girl, to kiss you,' he halted over
the words, then gave up. His eyes closed, his head
lolled back in her arms, his breath came
out in one long sigh.
"Cooper? Cooper!"
He'd stopped breathing.
Shane shook for a moment, screaming at him to come
back, then her training took over and
she lay him flat on the ground, kneeling over him,
pressing her lips to his, forcing her breath
into his lungs.
"Shane?" she heard West's voice waver behind
her.
"Get over here and help! Move!" she commanded.
He dropped his pack and knelt beside her, pressing
down on Hawkes' chest.
"Come on, Coop," he pleaded.
McQueen took in the scene in an instant, but failed
to register any reaction.
"A medical team should be here any second,"
he announced, watching them as they worked,
his hand coiled into a fist the only clue as to his
buried emotions.
He came and stood right over them, as Hawkes failed
to respond, then bent to pick up the
discarded syringe, sniffing at it, his smooth 20
year old face finally darkening, twisting in rage.
He threw the syringe down again.
"Hawkes," he began mournfully, squatting
down beside the lifeless form as Vansen and West
kept trying. He reached forward to touch West's arm,
signalling him to stop, but West
shrugged him off.
"No!" he snarled. "Not yet. I won't
give up on him!"
"West," he started, but was distracted
by movement out of the corner of his eye.
"Oh, man, what'd you have to do that for. That
was Aerotech property. do you know how
much that's gonna cost to get fixed." Whined
the manager of the Bacchus.
Eyes blazing, McQueen stood and crossed the oil stained
concrete in a second, picking the
man up by the collar and slamming him back into the
wall three times before he managed to
get his anger in check.
"You had an AI here! He sabotaged the ISSV!
He killed one of my squad! I'll have you up on
charges of treason! You bastard!"
"Colonel!" Nathan tried to pull him off.
McQueen spun around, and saw that Vansen had been
spelled by a paramedic. Cooper was
being put on a respirator as he watched.
He let the man drop, suddenly losing interest in
killing him with his bare hands.
Nathan could feel McQueen shaking very subtly as
he pulled him away, wired with
adrenaline.
"That AI trash gave him an overdose of phyllphetamine,"
he informed the paramedics, so
they'd know to administer a stimulant to fight the
effects. Not the effects of that chemical was
any less harmful to Invitros. They're inbuilt affinity
to certain drugs used in their 'training' led
to complications and addictions to other drugs of
the same family and same composition.
The other paramedic was busy field dressing the bullet
wound on Cooper's side, just below
the ribs.
His wrists were bloody from where the wires had cut
him, and blood covered his face, from a
gash on his forehead. The AI had abused him, tortured
him, that much was evident. A sick
feeling coiled through McQueen, and he turned away,
shaking off West, pushing the memories
back down into their dark place.
Paul's vision was starting to blur. Hand shaking
slightly, he plucked free the last thread of wire
with a pair of flat headed pliers, and then, when
he realised he was still alive, began
breathing again, becoming heady with the sudden rush
of oxygen. He just lay there, smiling
stupidly up at his handiwork, until Damphousse dragged
him free.
"That was a rush," he grinned. "I
wonder if the bomb squad has any openings?"
"I wouldn't put in your application for transfer
just yet," teased Vanessa, not really sure how
much of Wang's effort was skill or just dumb luck,
and not really giving him the benefit of the
doubt.
~
Through the triangular glass window of the med wing
he could see Cooper lying in bed,
Shane beside him, holding his hand.
Cooper saw him, and deliberately turned his face
away, muttering something to Shane. She
looked up, and saw West. She said something, patted
Cooper's hand, then stood, coming out
to speak to him, closing the door behind her.
"Nathan, go away. He doesn't want to see you
or speak to you. Not now."
"I just want to know if he's okay."
"Physically, he's okay. But emotionally - it's
setting back his whole recovery. He's an Invitro.
He should have been out of here days ago. You broke
his heart, Nathan, you and McQueen.
How could you..." she paused, so angry at him.
"Cooper is so vulnerable, he trusted you, he
loved you. You know he's not emotionally mature.
How could you just use him and dump
him like that."
"I didn't," he yelled back at her, then
stopped. "I didn't ," he repeated more quietly. "I
didn't
dump him, he just thinks I did. The McQueen thing
just happened. I'm sorry. Just tell him I'm
sorry, okay?"
"Do you think it will sound any better coming
from me?"
Nathan's eyes narrowed.
"Well, you two seemed pretty cosy. I thought
you weren't interested in Hawkes." he accused.
"Well, you were wrong. I just didn't want to
be the one to break his heart."
"Now you're going to be the one to mend it?"
"He needs somebody, Nathan. He nearly died because
of you..." she stopped when she saw
his face.
"Nathan, I'm sorry. Just give him time to heal,
okay?" And with that she went inside the room
to be with Hawkes again.
Nathan watched them together for a moment, then sadly
turned away.
"It's open."
McQueen tossed his book aside, not surprised to see
a very morose looking Lt Nathan west
standing there.
"You went to see him, didn't you." It was
a statement.
Nathan shrugged.
"He wouldn't see me."
"He'll get over it."
"Will he?" Nathan couldn't believe McQueen
could be that cold, but maybe he didn't know,
didn't feel what Nathan felt.
"You think I don't care?" McQueen answered
his thoughts brusquely, leaning forward, eyes
fixed on Nathan.
"You think it doesn't tear me up inside, knowing
Cooper is lying there in that bed, partly
because of what we did? I think of a hundred different
ways I could have handled things every
hour. But I dismiss them. Because being in command
means you can't second guess yourself.
We all did what we did. Now we have to live with
it."
It was as simple as that. To McQueen anyway.
"Sir?"
"What is it now, West," he asked, annoyed
that the Lt had not taken his cue to leave.
"I was wondering if I could join you in that
drink, Sir."
McQueen looked from West, then to the bottle. Wordlessly,
he poured another measure in a
second glass, then just left it there.
It was up to West to step forward and take it.
After a moment, he did.
