#lugoboi

“You know, I don’t think this is actually food-” Maxwell grumbles as he holds the packet of dehydrated (and subsequently re-hydrated with kettle water) provisions in one hand, the other stabbing at it with a plastic fork. With a grumble he scoops up some of the slop with his utensil, letting it plop back into the packet with the sort of consistency he’d imagine a giant’s snot to take... only with small sausages floating in it. 

Above them the baking Afghan sun was kept at bay by a dessert camo tarpaulin, casting a little shadow over rows of benches in the make shift mess hall, filled with hot sweaty bodies equally grumbling about the food. Even covered as he was, Maxwell had to be careful to keep his pale-skinned shoulders and neck out of the sun, so had opted for a backwards cap and had his light khaki t-shirt on with his desert camouflage over-shirt tied around his middle. His dog tags sit against a darkening of fabric from his sweat, curved around the outline of his muscles. 

Jim had trekked through Siberia once. A month long mission in the middle of frigid wastes where the cold seeped through every thermal layer to chill and chill and chill. But it was nothing compared to the ice that clawed at his veins at Lugo’s words, eyes downcast as Jim swallowed this information with difficulty. 

Walker.

He’d been Jim’s hero once, the inspiration for his signing up to serve. Jim had gone down a different track with the Navy but the implication had been the same. He’s still not meeting Lugo’s gaze and he wonders if he even realises Jim knew him. A different time by all accounts because this isn’t the Walker Jim remembers.

It’s a cloudless night, the moon overhead nothing but a sliver. From the outside the camp looks peaceful, shadows cast long from a dull campfire. Soft moonlight feathering canvas in faint silver hues.

Jim wakes suddenly, ripped from his dreams with the cloistering feeling of suffocation. Sweat lines his back where his shirt sticks to him. Heat prickling at skin and drenching him until he abruptly sits up and pushes the covers off him. Christ, a hand drags backwards through his hair and he’s letting his head hang low, just breathing as he waits for the cold uncomfortable grip of his dreams to fade. 

The air is cooling on his skin, and Jim takes several breaths before he’s feeling more like himself. The nightmares had started up again since they came to Dubai, only increasing in frequency the further in they pushed.  He knows it’s because of Walker, because of Lugo and the things that haunt him. He just doesn’t know how to make it any easier on himself.

Jim leans down for his canteen, bringing it to his lips for several grateful gulps. It’s during this that he remembers he’s not alone, feeling eyes on him and he pauses, canteen raised.

IT FINALLY HAPPENED. SOMEONE IS A BIGGER FAN OF JIM THAN HE IS OF HIMSELF AND IT’S BONES.

Grinning triumphantly, hands still on his hips, Maxwell looks back at the Staff Sargent with his chest puffed. A boyish, playful glint in his eyes as getting out there, in the mud and sand, rolling around with his team and working towards a common goal, against a common enemy of other militants just as focused as him - it was fun. Sure they weren’t called war games because they were meant to be fun, but after the boring hours in base camp, filled intermittently with the terrifying adrenaline of missions out where an IED could blow him to smithereens, this was a fun change of pace. 

Happily snatching up the paint as he’s bade closer, Maxwell nods and crouches down in front of the other and starts smearing his fingertips with the brown and black make up. “I’ll keep an eye out for you, don’t worry” he says, teasingly. Of course the sniper’s whole situation was to not be seen, but with Lugo being so serious, he couldn’t not be jovial about it. They were on opposing teams, sure, and their friendship ended as soon as the whistle was blown, but he rather thinks the older American has a soft spot for him and this was his way of telling him. 

The movies got it wrong, but then again what in real life did they ever really get right. There was rarely the violent thrashing of a nightmare in progress, the whimpering cries that whisper out into the night. More often than not there’s just that moment where the stillness breaks, when a soldier goes from dead asleep to wide awake in the space of half a second. Jim doesn’t need to see Lugo to know his heart’s beating rapidly, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Jim’s free with his touch, unashamed and comfortable in himself and his skin to show affection whenever to whoever. The pats on the back at a job well done, the arm thrown around a shoulder as they head back to camp to regroup. But this is his subtler kind of touch, the press of a warm body where he slides down next to Lugo, allows the length of his torso, his leg to press up against him. 

Physical presence, a reminder that Lugo’s not alone.

मैंने आज तुम्हें पानी के बगल में मॉल में देखा। यह ऐसा है जैसे जब मैंने तुम पर नज़र रखी तो वह रेत में बदल गया। पानी, जो सोने से भी अधिक कीमती है, उन चीजों में से एक बन गया है जो मैं हर दिन देखता हूं। यदि यह एक अलग दिन होता - यदि आप नहीं होते - तो मैं अपनी त्वचा पर पानी को महसूस करने के लिए फव्वारे में कूद जाता। लेकिन एक बार जब मैंने तुम्हारी वह झलक पकड़ी, तो वह मेरे दिमाग में कभी नहीं आई। पर मुझे रात में जगाना, ख्वाबों में दिखना... तुम और रेत एक ही हो, ऐसे।

He's not a romantic, by any stretch. He's always been a guy that laughs and flirts but never went hard on the class and style. He's not exactly baring his soul here, either. All he wants to let her know is that she's on his mind...

I saw you today at the mall, next to the water. When I laid eyes on you, it turned to sand. Water, something more precious than gold, reduced to one of the things I see every day. If it were a different day--if you hadn't been there--I could've jumped into the fountain to feel that water on my skin. But once I caught that glimpse of you, it didn't even cross my mind. But waking me up in the night, appearing in my dreams... You and the sand have that in common.

Once again, a message from her mysterious admirer-- admittedly, she started looking forward to these little things.

Call her crazy, but after what happened to her beloved Maxie, her dearest Maximillian... Well, any woman with a broken heart would start reading these and holding them to their heart in some attempt to mend it. Through that scope, that admirer could see her pick it up, eyebrows raising, cigarette resting on her crimson red lip while her eyes began to slowly read through it-- Hindi, she noted. Didn't know Hindi... but she could sure as hell learn it. A smile could be seen cracking onto her face, or perhaps a smirk, while she slowly folded the airplane into a small square... and then, put it away into her purse. She'll need to trifle through her late husband's things to figure this one out...

At least, though, her admirer could see her today. A new outfit, by the looks of things. Slim-fitting and as open as ever, a long gown and tall heels that were as black as the night, yet with a new necklace of silver-- looked like something from Dubai, with its engravings and designs-- with matching earrings to complement it. Her outfit was easily showing off her voluptuous form-- even showing a thigh or so, while a white boa scarf rested on her shoulders.

With a click of her tongue, her eyes drifted up, blinking a bit more rapidly than before. Tears, maybe? Well, she couldn't help it. Any lady with a broken heart-- at least, like Evelyn-- would find these so sweet. Others would find it strange. Concerning. But not Evelyn. Maybe that was her sadness at play.

Taking a moment to take a puff of her cigarette, she turned her head off near the direction of that scope while she began to walk along, perhaps to make her way back home. She didn't see a scope, however-- nothing. Only the top of an old building. But... In a way, maybe she just knew he was there today. Watching her.

With what the US government had with her about her findings of Dubai... Well. She expected men ready to kill her at any moment.

But she never expected a man that'd take interest in her instead.