Writer & Fan

‘The internet is down!’

Ethan turned around to see Benji staring at his screen, dismayed. He looked horrified. He looked more upset than the week before when he had been kidnapped by a gang of smugglers (Benji had managed to talk his way out of it, learn all their contacts and disable their communication by the time a frantic Ethan arrived to rescue him.)

‘Well, we are in quite a remote area,’ Ethan said, leaning down over the screen. His hand was on the back of Benji’s chair and for a moment he caught a hint of Benji’s shampoo, something citrussy and sharp he’d picked up on the last mission. Benji liked to change his toiletries every week, but underneath it all was still the essential scent of Benji. Ethan took a breath and then told himself off for being strange and intense about Benji again.

‘We should still be able to get a signal. I had plans,’ Benji moaned, gesturing at the screen.

‘Haven’t you already downloaded all we need for the mission?’

‘I need books. I need games. I have the new series of Star Trek to catch up on! How am I supposed to entertain myself now?’

‘You could talk to me,’ Ethan said, standing up.

‘Don’t you have your normal plans of a 10k run, and then an hour of yoga followed by an exceptionally healthy meal and then mission prep to do? You don’t normally need me for that.’

Ethan bit his lip. All these evenings in safe houses together, alone or with others. All this time in the same room, barely speaking to each other, only crossing paths when they had to discuss the mission.

Ethan hadn’t meant it to be this way. After Vienna – after the barge – he had silently promised to himself to treasure Benji. To never give Benji a reason to leave him. Benji had given up so much to spend his life by Ethan’s side, Ethan had to make up for it by giving Benji all he could. But somehow that hadn’t happened. They had worked together well – exceptionally well – but somehow friendship had seemed to drift away from them, swamped by the work.

That wasn’t fair to Benji.

‘I’ll do the run,’ Ethan said. ‘But after that, I’m all yours.’

Ethan almost never cooked, and he didn’t know if Benji did, but he came back from his run to find a meal simmering on the stove. It smelt delicious. He stood next to Benji at the stove and smelled the air.

‘That’s wonderful,’ he said softly.

‘Taste it first,’ Benji said. ‘Go and have a shower and we’ll eat.’

Ethan’s showers were normally quick ‘get clean and go’ affairs. Not this one. He took his time, he shaved carefully and brushed his hair. He reached for his normal black t-shirt – and then decided to take the purple shirt instead. For some reason, his hand shook a little as he buttoned it.

When he walked into the other room, Benji was dishing up the meal. There were candles on the table.

‘Looks like a date,’ Ethan said, before he could stop himself. Benji blushed.

‘I’m not sure of the electrics,’ Benji said, not looking up at Ethan. ‘I didn’t want us to be without light.’

‘Good thinking,’ Ethan said, sitting down. ‘This looks amazing.’

Benji sat down, fiddling with his cutlery a little awkwardly.

‘I was thinking about tomorrow...’

‘Let’s not talk about the mission,’ Ethan said quickly. ‘We’ve got other topics of conversation, haven’t we? We used to talk…’

Benji glanced down, at the meal, biting his lip. Yes, there was a time they would have talked about anything but the mission. But that was before, the days between that first mission together and Ethan disappearing in London. They had talked all the time then, getting to know each other, learning each other’s history, their tastes, their habits. Swapping music recommendations, watching movies, trying new food. There had been an evening where they had told each other the worst jokes they knew. Another where they tried to work out exactly what Luther did on his time off. A constant conversation, Benji unable to be quiet and Ethan responding to this new voice, this new life, so different to his own. Becoming colleagues and then friends and then close friends. Knowing each other.

But somehow, talk since they had reunited – after Vienna, after London – talk had become difficult. Somehow the words seemed heavy with unspoken meanings, things neither man dared say, a danger in the casual conversation that wasn’t there before. Too much closeness could lead to a step it was dangerous to take.

But they couldn’t go on this way. And maybe – maybe they could give a little. Just a little.

Benji took a breath.

‘So let me tell you about the first opera I saw….’

Somehow they managed not to talk about the mission. In fact, it was almost as if they’d forgotten about the mission. After a few moments stilted conversation, the words flowed as easily as they had before. They talked, and laughed and teased and learned. And as the sun went down, and the darkness became heavy around the candlelight, things were hinted at.

‘I’m glad you stayed,’ Ethan said. ‘I don’t think I could do any of this without you.’

‘There was never a choice, not for me,’ Benji told him. ‘It’s where I belong, with you.’

‘I’m glad,’ Ethan said again, unsure if another word would reveal too much of intense joy he had in Benji's presence. ‘But I should let you know – you don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to stay with me, I know it’s been bad for you, what with what Lane did. I know – I know it’s been difficult after that and…’

‘I don’t care,’ Benji said, fiercely, fervently. Darkness and conversation brought freedom from restraints. ‘You need me, and I need you. No matter what, I’m with you to the end. Whatever the end may be.’

‘I don’t want anything to happen to you….’

‘And I don’t want anything to happen to you. But it will, without me there. I know that. You know it too, don’t you? Don’t you, Ethan? Or – or is this your way of telling me you want me to leave? Is that what this is, Ethan? A goodbye meal?’

Benji’s eyes shone with tears and Ethan couldn’t bear it. He reached forward and grasped Benji’s hand.

‘No. No, don’t leave me. I don’t want that. Look - I try to watch you, and keep you safe, but I can’t be there all the time, and I’m worried the minute you’re out from under my gaze someone will get to you…’

‘I’ll take it,’ Benji said, bravely. ‘Whatever it is. I know you’ll protect me as best you can but you have to know – I’ll be protecting you too, in my way.’

They watched each other a moment in the candlelight, Ethan still holding Benji’s hand.

There was a beep, and they turned to see the computer connecting to the internet and a slew of messages appearing. Ethan let go of Benji’s hand. He felt like they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

‘Back to the mission, I guess,’ Benji said softly.

‘It can wait a moment,’ Ethan said, wanting to grasp the last threads of whatever had been woven here, tonight. ‘It’s good to talk. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us being friends.’

‘We’re still friends, Ethan,’ Benji said. ‘We’ll always be friends.’

‘We haven’t had much time for it lately,’ Ethan said, very quietly. The computer beeped again, more urgently this time. He glanced at it.

‘We’ll make time,’ Benji said. ‘I think – I think you need this. And me too. We’ll make time. We’ll go the cinema and train together and tell each other about books and go out for dinner and – and – we’ll talk. We’ll talk.’

The computer started to make a ringing sound. Brandt was calling them.

‘I’ll try,’ Ethan said, desperately, glancing at it. ‘We’ll try. We’ll try to be just Ethan and Benji, once in a while, every so often, when the missions stop.’

‘When the missions stop,’ Benji said softly. A large message popped up on screen, informing them if they didn’t answer Brandt was going to send in the troops. Benji got up to answer it.