Morningstar Manor

There wasn't any mail today... It was a national holiday, veteran's day, and Erin had already left messages for her brother and father. They were at work. Just like she figured Adam was stuck working today as well. How ironic was it that the holiday honoring the service members, past and present, was the one holiday they didn't get out of working?

She slipped into the mail room, found his box and slipped a pale blue envelope inside of it. The card had a simplistic image on the outside and the words Thank you for doing what you do. I don't think I could and just wanted to say I appreciate it. Every day not just today... ~Erin on the inside.

Eli had been in and out of meetings today. It regarded a lot of nonsense that he didn't agree with, but he had to do because of his job. He just hoped that if deployments got handed down again, he would be sent before some of the other guys with families and girlfriends.

Feeling a little frustrated and slightly disappointed, he ducked into the Mocha for coffee remembering to remove his beret only after he'd stood in line for a minute. Class A's were one uniform he didn't like wearing all that much, but when in meetings they were sometimes required.

Toward the back of the queue for the Mocha stood Adam, hands in his pockets and a vaguely sleepy expression on his face.

The line inched forward and he yawned before shuffling a few steps closer to the counter. He rolled his head against his shoulders tiredly and inhaled a deep breath, wondering if he could get a contact buzz just from the coffee-scented air.

He was so looking forward to being able to sleep in tomorrow.

~.~

For the first time since the incident Jazz was out and about in the Manor. Her face had finally healed enough for her to cover most of them with a little extra makeup and she took advantage of it, stopping in the mailroom on her way home from classes (and she was a little early today because no power on Earth could get her to go to her dance class yet) to collect her mail, which had been piling up.

She stood at the sorting counter, shifting the important mail into piles by category - bills, personal, pleasure - and tossing junk into the trash. Nearby a pumpkin spice muffin from the Mocha sat open and half-eaten on its wrapper and every once and while she paused to pick at it while shooting considering glances at the tee-shirts someone had left behind.

It had taken a few days, but Jazz had noticed the absence of her cell phone and that, more than the loss of her keys, iPod, and clothes combined upset her. Those other things could be easily replaced, but the phone...well, that was important.

She wrecked her brain, but couldn't remember the thugs taking it and unless she'd been more out of it than she realized, she had a clear memory of Anastasia holding it.

So after hunting up the card the blond had given her while she'd been in the hospital, Jazz placed a call to the only person who could help her.

Icene Callan.

After a lie in and a hot breakfast Adam made his way down the garage with a small bucket and a set of rags.

With Selma's passenger door hanging open he scrubbed, trying to get jello stains out of the seat.

~.~

Something strange was going on with the mail, Alec thought. After almost a year of marriage he was more than used to seeing all sorts of deliveries for Ang - but here lately...nothing. Not a bill, not a packet from her foster home, not even a flyer from that boutique she liked.

He knew what it looked like, but he refused to believe it. Why would Ang come down, get her own mail and leave him to come get his own? That would be completely out of character.

He shook his head and turned to the sorting counter.

Things were probably just slow right now.

~.~

Down in the gym, Jazz sat on the floor in her little shorts and sports top and stretched out her legs, one long limb at a time.

Last night her dance professor had set them all with an interesting little task and she was eager to begin work on it. She slowly leaned down over her leg, holding her toes with her fingertips. She held that position for a few deep breaths, then she sat back up and switched to the other leg.

They came in through the garage, hashing out the night's events between them.

Adam kept glancing over at Eli - specifically at the red smudges and stains on the other man's clothes and skin and his words kept getting twisted up with laughter. He even spotted a small, red globule in Eli's ear.

Snorting, he almost choked on a laugh.

"Dude, I warned you," he pointed out when Eli looked mutinous.

The kitchen was a sea of grocery bags, crinkly plastic as far as the eye could see. They were even washing up in the living room as if carried by an actual tide.

Adam hadn't imagined his return from Iraq restocking would be this bad - hell he was pretty sure it wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for the worms. Little, pale writhing things he found in his instant oatmeal this morning.

It probably would have been smart to then check everything in the cupboards to see what was infested and what wasn't, but he hadn't been able to bear the thought so it had all gone straight into the trash. Everything.

Hence now the way he tip-toed around his kitchen, trying not to crush the eggs or the Captain Crunch.

When someone knocked on his door he paused, a loaf of bread in one hand and a package of bologna in the other, and called out, "it's open," before continuing on his slow, careful trek to the refrigerator.

Stuck to the door of Eli's locker was a short note, written on a corner of a piece of paper ripped from a yellow legal pad.

Welcome to Wyvern.

The Elbow Room - 9pm.

First round's on me.

-Major McClaren

Robbie, in his black leather jacket, stepped into the Slaughtered Lamb. There was nothing on TV, he knew all his DVD movies by heart and he had no other company, so why not have a pint in the local pub?

*

Laura felt the chills of fall on her skin as she relaxed in the lotus position in the gardens. The evening was getting cool, and she opened her eyes slowly and looked up at the sky painted with violet and rose, sensing that it was about time she would get long sleeves on after the yoga excercice.

*

Lucas stumped his cigarette right outside the main doors of the Manor and stepped inside the lobby while stifling a big yawn. He was coming home after a day - actually a week - at work waitering at the Flamingo Lounge, and he felt it in his feet.

*

Emily slowly but surely sorted through her mail in the mailroom. She had not picked it up in days because she had had better things to think about - but now she was making three different piles of mail on the small side table of the room; one for ads, the second one for bills and other painfully obligatory things and the third for things she would actually read through with interest.

*

Thomas blinked hard in the queue of the Mocha. He had not been working on tables in the restaurant on Sunday but he had been picking up on paperwork for the whole day. It had left him slightly numb and very bored, and he tried fixing that with a big mug of tea.

Adam had slept like one dead for full nine hours before finally stirring and stumbling into the bathroom for a shower and a shave. As he walked into the kitchen afterward, in a glorious much missed pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he felt like a brand new man. He felt so good he spent several long minutes teasing Icene, stealing ingredients off plates and pans while she cooked just because he could.

When she threatened to beat him with a spoon he finally relented and settled for nibbling on her neck for awhile instead. When whatever it was she was cooking threatened to burn he pulled away with a grin and promised to be back by the time she was done. It might have only been his first day back, but there were still things he needed to do. Of which, stopping in to see his brother was one.

Joe looked a little thinner, and there seemed to be some new lines of strain around his eyes, but he was for all intents and purposes in one piece and for now Adam was content with that. He also picked up his mail and stopped in at his apartment, but neither of those held his attention for very long.

No, he was much happier in the gardens, standing barefoot in the grass and looking up at the dingy, cloud-covered sky.

"I'm home!" he shouted randomly at the clouds.

From a distance someone yelled back, "Nobody cares!"

Adam just laughed. He loved this place.

Adam wasn't sure what time it was exactly, he'd traveled through to many time zones to be sure, but it was dark enough and quiet enough that he figured it was probably just late enough, or early depending on how you looked at it, to be wildly inappropriate of him to be letting himself into Icene's apartment.

But he didn't care. The only thing had kept him on his feet this long was the knowledge that finally, after four long months, he'd be able to sleep in a real bed with her slim, cool body in his arms. Right where she belonged.

He swung the door closed behind him and left his duffel where it fell in the middle of the living room floor. He shuffled on to her bedroom, pushing open the door. For a moment he just stood there, drinking in the delicious sight of her, then he moved forward and dropped onto the bed, moving immediately to draw her into his arms.

It wasn't perhaps the most delicate or romantic entrance he could have made, but again he just didn't care.

For the last two days Adam hadn't left his bunk unless under direct order, now he shot under the flap like a bat out of hell, huge duffel slapping against his back as he stuffed his travel papers inside his over shirt for ready keeping.

Behind him the flap fluttered and then a blond head poked out, "McClaren! You forgot your book-"

"Keep it!" Adam shouted back without even turning.

Nothing short of a knife fight with Osama Bin Laden himself was going to stop him now.

He was going home.

Another fat, brown package envelope came for Joe. After opening it and reading the short note inside, he separated the contents and made sure they got where they were supposed to go.

At the front desk he left:

( Eris )

( Icene )

Because of neither of them would fit under their respective doors.

Luckily he didn't have to worry about that with his own letter and he merely slipped that into his pocket to enjoy after dinner.

True to his word Adam found himself by the phones on Friday, dialing Joe's number. With any luck Joe had been true to his word and rounded up Icene as well.

He was looking forward to talking to both of them.

A distant ringing came through the line and Adam started tapping his phone card on the table, waiting a might impatiently for someone to pick up.

Just after eleven p.m. so, if his math was correct, it would be just after four p.m. back in the States. Seemed a good a time as any to Adam.

Turning his phone card over and over in his fingers he made his way from his tent to the phone bank and chose a setup a little ways away from the captain talking animatedly to what Adam assumed was a small child.

He punched in the obscenely long numbers and leaned back in the chair, waiting for someone to pick up.

( Read more... )

In the middle of the wistful debate filled with not very subtle longing Majors Mason and Schilling were having over which junk foods they missed most from home Adam's stomach started rumbling, and grew progressively louder with each item added to the list. It was so bad he almost taste the M&M's, the Twinkies, and the chocolate chip cookies.

It was like some new bizarre, but incredibly effective, form of torture.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he scooped up the battered paperback that had recently come to him (a murder mystery that one of the guys across camp had gotten in a package from home and was currently being passed around from solider to solider) and ducked out of the tent, leaving the relative safety it provided and heading into the hot afternoon sun. He'd only gotten a few feet, flipping pages as he walked, when he heard someone calling his name.
( Read more... )

Icene didn't answer when Joe knocked, and he figured she was still at work. He considered holding onto her letter from Adam until he saw her in person, but then decided that if Icene found out Eris had gotten her letter first she'd probably be upset.

So he slipped it under her door instead.

( Read more... )

The checkpoint wasn't anything special to look at: a run down, single room guardhouse and a dilapidated bit of rubble that might have once upon a time held a gate along a stretch barren desert that didn't look any different from the other hundreds of miles of dusty sand that surrounded it.

But, orders were orders and Adam and the tetchy Sergeant had been slated to stand this particular batch of ground for the next forty-eight hours. Stopping any cars that came to pass and checking the papers of the occupants.

Straight-forward, easy work, and pretty much one of the most boring things he'd ever done.

( Read more... )

First impressions were everything.

And Adam's first thought on touchdown in the middle East (after a flight that had felt no less than 145, 943, 326 hours long) was that things were a tad on the warm side here. Even for him. And considering his "advantages" he wasn't really sure how everyone else handled it.

After arriving, there was some waiting, which was followed by more waiting, then a bumping, dusty ride by Humvee to his base. By the time they got there he was desperately wanting a shower...and something to sit on that wasn't moving.

But, alas, check in with the CO was next, and a debriefing poorly disguised as a meet-and-greet. The monotony of that at least was broken up by one very disgruntled Sergeant who was not pleased with his reassignment.
( Read more... )

Adam hadn't needed an alarm, he'd laid awake most of the night, unable to sleep. Finally, when he couldn't linger any longer he slipped quietly from the bed and silently got dressed. Putting on his travel uniform, in all its stiff khaki glory, didn't fill him with the same sense of pride that it usually did.

He felt...empty. And kind of tired.

From the corner of the room, where he'd banished it Saturday night, Adam picked up his bag, draping the heavy canvas strap over one shoulder.

He looked back at the bed, at the mop of pale hair just sticking out from the under the covers. He watched her as long as he dared, knowing it would have to last him the next four months, then he shifted the bag slightly and left quickly, not trusting himself to linger any longer.

In the Lobby, Joe was waiting, sipping a cup of coffee, and holding another for Adam. They stood together for little while in silence, drinking and avoiding conversation. Then Adam pulled an envelope out of his pocket and passed it to his brother. Knowing what it was for, Joe slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket. Then he nodded toward the garage.

"Ready?" Joe sounded tired too.

"No," Adam replied, but he started walking anyway.