hot mess express

There wasn’t a time in her life where she could remember this not being her goal. Even as a small child when someone would ask her what she wanted to be when she grew up the answer was the same, just like her father. Her plan never faltered. Only ever changing from enlisting to going to West Point per her fathers orders. Not that she would change going to officer school for a second.

Charlie liked being an officer. She liked having a leg up over those who just enlisted. Mostly she liked being trained in most things more so then basic could have ever given her. Being deployed is everything Charlie could and couldn’t expect. 

Charlie was use to the structure and the strict rules from her home life and West Point. She knew how to bend the rules she didn’t like and followed the ones she needed to perfectly. She never would get use to the sand and honestly Charlie would sell her left kidney for a plate of hot wings and an ice cold beer and she wasn’t even halfway through the deployment yet. Everything her soulmate and father had warned her about that she didn’t think would actually be that big of a deal was becoming a crashing realization.

One thing that shocked most people was how much Charlie actually did well with the structure. She liked having a firm schedule. Knowing each day had a purpose and she would be doing something to make a difference made her less annoyed to be up at 0600 every morning. And she was good at it. Charlie couldn’t help but brag just slightly. Charlie liked working with her hands. She liked being able to work on the Humvees, much more then she expected too. Charlie even liked her higher ups, mostly.

Once Charlie was passed on to another Sergeant she became a bit less of an ass. Her group started doing a lot less extra drills and push ups due to her acting out. She got along with Greene, much more then Daniel. Still when ever she had to work with him Charlie couldn’t keep the annoyance off her face and no matter how much Sam begged her, she couldn’t help but make at least three snarky remarks no matter the consequences. At least now she didn’t see him as often with her group being passed on to Green.

Charlie signed up for as many extra routes and jobs as she could. She liked the busy days and enjoyed being able to get out of the FOB every so often. The first time she signed up for an extra route on what should have been her days off the Sergeant in charge thought it was a joke. That was until Charlie showed up early and ready to roll.

Today wasn’t any different. Charlie approached the gates almost 10 minutes early and almost stops in her tracks and curses under her breathe. She hadn’t thought to check who else was signed up on the run. Of course it would be just her luck that he would be going out with them and with her soulmate saying he was going to be busy the day and possible next Charlie couldn’t even write him on the ride to bitch about Daniel being in the group.

She rolled her eyes and tried to play her face as neutral as she approached the gate. Charlie snaps a salute when close enough and only looks at the Sergeant in charge of the run.

“SGT Dagz.” She greets him before continuing past to see Baker already there as well. They were still missing a few people and once Charlie can tell she is well out of ear shot once she is next to Baker she lets the annoyance show on her face.

Baker lets out a chuckle. She had become almost as close to the kid as she was to Sam. He has heard her bitch more then a dozen times about Daniel. “So you didn’t know he was going to be here. Me and Sam had a bet. She owes me now.” Baker shakes his head still laughing.

“Oh shut up.” Why is he here anyways? Doesn’t he has anything more important to do?” Charlie catches herself glaring at him and turns quickly when he starts looking around the group. Baker just answers with a shrug and a once excited Charlie now can’t wait for the day to be over.

Speaking of the devil, LT Powell seems to materialize as soon as she becomes the topic of conversation. Daniel smooths his face into smooth blankness as she approaches. Per the course, Charlie completely ignores him in front of everyone else and is gone as quickly as possible. Daniel is a professional at keeping his features bland as it all happens, and continues to ignore her presence as well. It’s easier this way, for both of them.

“What’d you do to deserve that cold front?” Dagz asked with a low chuckle once Powell is out of earshot. “Couldn’t tell you. Been like this since day one. If you manage to figure it out let me know.” 

His poker face holds up well, but his words lack truth. Daniel’s seen how she interacts with Richard, how awkward it all was with her father praising him and ignoring her entire existence. Daniel burns with second-hand embarrassment at the encounter, and he can only imagine how that feels personally. Daniel’s never had a father to disappoint. Furthermore, he’s never had a father to disappoint him, either. The relationship between the Powells seems stilted and uneven, and Daniel has to wonder if all of her resentment is from how Richard speaks of him. He wonders if his soulmate feels the same way as Powell, with her issues with her father, too.

He can feel Powell’s gaze into the side of his head and he pointedly ignores it. One by one, the troop fills up. Dagz’s squad is to be primary, with three other squads of grunts filling in. The engineers are to be split, with three of each travelling with each Humvee. Thankfully, Powell is with Dagz in the front squad with her favorite kid, Baker. SGT Edwards takes the rear, with Powell’s CPL taking the third truck.

“Check your suits,” Dagz barks out to the group once they are assembled. “You have three grease monkeys riding with you, so make sure you clean out the extra seats.” A small grumble cuts through the crowd, as well as some snickering. Dagz motions over to where Daniel stands, out of the way. “We got the Boulder here with us too, so make sure you spit shine your hub caps if you don’t want his wrath.” 

“We’ll get the next fundraiser organized, as soon as possible.” Andrea throws back, and she instantly regrets that this fictitious charity is not one she can spend extravagantly on. It’s that same vain of reminder that has her shoulders faltering slightly. A look back at Theo, with quiet sincerity. “Thanks again,” given what a right asshole Peter Maxwell appears to be, Andrea vaguely wonders if it’s enough. “I know his sort of guy doesn’t just bid out of the goodness of his heart.” She is the wallflower, the misnomer, the book worm. Unlike Theo before her, she is not subject to constant affection. No one runs their eyes up and down, when she walks into a room. Or layers her with affection and saccharine, until she is theirs. But she is not so unaware, that she is naive to what a guy like Peter Maxwell would expect from a weekend alone with Andrea in Nantucket.

“Gossips never win.” Andrea agrees, undoing the flaps of his helmet with strange familiarity. The helmet tracking over her curls, and clasping in place. Normally, it’s Andrea who drives her reliable Toyota Corolla to parties. Yet it seems she’s different, these days. Spry, active, and taking chances. She sits at the end of Theo’s motorcycle, long hands taken around his abdomen. True to his motorcycle’s promise with its roaring engine, they course through New Haven’s streets in surprising speed. These days, she lacks in terror - only a sense of freedom and willfulness, each time she’s bound to the back of his motorcycle.

By the time they arrive to Delta Psi’s doors, many of the fraternity brothers have already shuffled in. Vaguely, she can see Luisa rushing through the doors with fireworks, of all things. “I’ll see you later.” Andrea says quickly, gently tossing back his spare helmet to keep pace with her sister. True to form, she catches her right before a seemingly good idea turns for the worse. “You know a thing of two about fireworks, don’t you, Andy?” Luisa goads on, irritably surrendering her stash nonetheless. The simple quip, heightened with a look of implication. Not for the first time that evening, or any other evening.

“Go back inside,” Andrea all but commands, rolling her eyes as the petulant younger, Alvarez stamps her feet at every step. Quietly, Andrea slips through the happy-go-luck fraternity brothers with little notice. It’s her specialty - dissolving into the background. Even when she’s become as closely affiliated, as the semester has made her. Without a word, Andrea escapes herself to the very same den since her first Delta Psi party. A smuggled beer in hand, and the latest American poetry book unfurled on her lap as she sits on the bed.

🕮

Alvarez puts on the helmet like she’s done it a million times. It shouldn’t make Theo want to smile, but it does. Not that long ago, she was refusing to get on the back of his motorcycle. Now, his spare helmet is practically reserved for her.

Theo keeps the speed respectable. At least, more respectable than if he is cruising alone, without someone else’s safety to worry about. Still, Alvarez has gotten somewhat used to travelling by motorcycle, so when he hits the small stretch of highway that connects their trip, he guns it, a wide grin on his face as his bike roars with the twist of the throttle. With the wind rushing past them and Andrea safely tucked against his back, Theo feels the tension of the evening start to truly wear away; it’s as if the further they get away from the event hall the easier he can breath. Theo finds himself taking the longer route back to the Delta Psi house. They glide down some of the smaller streets as the large halls of the college cross their paths, and Theo is almost disappointed when they come to a stop at his parking spot on the side of the fraternity house.

Theo watches with amusement as Alvarez confiscates fireworks from her younger sister, Ana peering at them through the window with a frown on her features. He feels a hand come up to clasp around his shoulders and Chet’s aftershave hits his nose. “You got something to tell me, Theo?” Chet asks in that tone, and he points his elbow into Chet’s ribs before answering him. “Stop messing around.” “I’m just saying, the Nantucket house is very romantic bro.” “Chet,” Theo says with warning in his tone, and Chet holds up his hands in surrender. “It could happen.” “Get real dude. She would never.” Theo snorts, turning towards the house just as Sam comes out the door with two beers. “She would never?” He challenges, and Theo decides he is too sober for the conversation. He pushes Sam towards him and hightails it towards the house. Chet looks over the moon at his new boyfriend, and Theo welcomes the distraction.

One of the younger brothers slides a cold beer into his hand. He chugs it, feeling the burn in his chest and throat as the ice cold liquid hits it and fizzes at his nose. The guys hoot and holler for a minute, and a second beer is placed in his hand just as quickly. Even in his fancy suit, Theo feels more at home with his Delta Psi brothers than at his parents gala. It hits him, not for the first time, that his parties are numbered now. With graduation up ahead, there are only a handful or two of keggers left before he is expected to join the real world and straighten up.

Any other nights, the thought might put a damper on his mood. For tonight, though, he shepherds Double Trouble away from imminent danger makes his rounds. He loses a round of beer pong and holds up the left leg of a pledge for a keg stand. Theo makes sure he is in no less than three selfies before he slips away with his third beer in hand, crossing the small foyer towards the side rooms that muffle the noise of the party. He turns towards the small area, knowing exactly where she will be set up on the outskirts of the party.

Daniel can finally breathe again. Most of the ‘recruits’ are now fully trained and distributed  amongst their ranks and the rebuilt FOB. The summer sun is finally starting to cool down as October approaches, and he doesn’t feel like he’s sweating through his boots any longer. His Sergeants are kicking ass, with Greene falling in with the crew assigned to Daniel with ease. They’ve all fallen into a routine, which is his favorite part of any deployment. Except the end, of course.

Daniel wakes up in the morning, does PT with whatever squad is scheduled that day, and meets with his Sergeants for objectives. He finishes his paperwork, base assignments, and goes into any meeting on the docket for that day. He deals with the officers whenever necessary, making sure their brass is still shiny and managing the newest officers that aren’t technically under his command, but fall into his responsibility, unofficially. After dinner he usually has down time to pester his soulmate, hang out with some of the other NCOs, or write home to his mother. it’s a daily grind that’s easy to rinse and repeat, and the order of it all is soothing for him. Just a couple more months and he’ll have the holiday off. Just another year in the sand and he’ll get to spend some extended time stateside.

Daniel is scheduled to tour the new FOB, and make sure they don’t need to re-distribute their forces after talking with some of the command staff. Dubbed FOB Liberty, the ‘new’ base has been fully functional for all of two weeks and taken half of their engineer corps over to make sure that transportation, base functions, and everything else is functioning smoothly. The infantry company asks for a whole engineer squad to accompany them, and LT Charlie Powell volunteers her troop for the work. Daniel’s eyebrow quirks at the paperwork as he approves it; Powell must not realize he’ll be on the trip too.

Charlotte Powell continues to be an enigma. She’s rude and disrespectful to Daniel, toeing the line of what she can get away with without formal reprimand. She doesn’t seem fond of Renee either, but functions like an actual adult when dealing with most of the other NCOs. The worst part is, she’s one of the best combat engineers he has, and her troop is fiercely loyal with her. Her Sergeant is a young guy named Edwards who gets along with everyone. The CPL, SPC, and privates that fall under her jurisdiction seem like a tight knit group of eight, and Daniel just wishes she’d take the chip off of her shoulder to make his life easier. He doesn’t hold his breath.

After writing his soulmate the night before, to let her know that he’ll be out for most of the day and possibly until tomorrow, Daniel rises early. He checks his gear, piece by piece, including the goddamn SAW he knows better than his left arm at this point. By the time of his most recent promotion, they offer to give the spot to someone else on the base, but Daniel’s used to the machinegun already. He is one of the first to approach the gates where the infantry platoon is waiting for them.

“Staff Sergeant!” One of the Infantry Sergeants snaps off a salute, which Daniel returns. SGT Dagz is a hulking beast of a man, standing two inches taller than Daniel and just as wide. His skin is a deep brown and he has the strap of his helmet undone as Daniel approaches him. “SGT Dagz, how is the grunt life treating you?”

“Better than the wrench monkey life, Boulder. You part of our group today?”

“Command has me tagging along. You’ll have LT Powell with you today.”

As is custom, Andrea is the keen eye amidst the fray. The quintessential ‘mother hen’ that’s fussing down a stray hair on Luisa’s head, or smoothing a wrinkle off Ana’s crepe dress. It’s instinct, then, that has her peering back at the table one last time. The grey texture of Theo’s jacket hanging over the chair. Wordlessly, she drapes it over her arm, careful with the fine texture as to not wrinkle it. Since when did Theo Pennington become included in her list of people to care for? More of the same, Andrea is inclined to think. But all the same, she wades into it. The peculiarity of what’s seemingly growing between them, not lost on her.

Although not the most sensitive, Andrea can hedge when a sore spot is hit. It’s the very one that she gnaws on, in retaliation for Theo’s own mean-spirited jokes. But something about Maxwell breathing life to it, feels like an insult. “All I’m saying - the only person I want you fighting is me.” Andrea admits lowly, quiet tonality as they fall out of ear shot. She means it, too. Their sparring matches lost their bitter edge months ago. The softness of his smile surprising her. She has to blink, taken by the rare sight of it. Without all the flourish and easy charm, is his innate goodness. The side of him that’s still being learned, like fresh pages of a chapter revealing themselves. And whether she’s yet to admit to herself, she’s pulled into his story.

Her cheeks turn a twinge of pink, but Andrea’s determined to wave it off as the excitement of the activity. “Who says you could in the first place? I sense that they’ve made Yale’s doors bigger - just for you.” Comes her own remarks, biting her inner cheek to keep the Cheshire grin at bay. Wordlessly, she takes his jacket off her arm. A low nod, asking him to turn around and bend as she holds it open for his shoulders. “Best not to wrinkle it.” Her hands smooth over the shoulders from behind Theo, pausing just briefly to wipe away a piece of lint.

His question causes her to raise a brow, and turn back to her sister. She’s already chatting up a storm with Ana, as they jump into the backseat of Chet’s car. Yet even from a distance away, Andrea can see the speculative glances from behind the window. After as many years at Kingswood and Yale, Andrea’s learned to sense when she’s being talked about. “What would people say?” Andrea asks, as she’s prone to do with her squeaky clean reputation. And yet, she finds her fingers extending for the spare helmet. A decision she’s made time and time again - to caress less of the opinions of others.

🕮

Her words take a little bit of the air out of his lungs, the admission doing something to him that he neatly tucks back into a box. Theo enjoys their verbal sparring, and the progression of their friendship. What started as bitter and mean-spirited prose has evolved into something playful that he looks forward to. Her admission of the same, and the possessiveness of it, is something he doesn’t know how to compartmentalize in his moment of emotional vulnerability. It’s something he’ll dwell on later, after a copious amount of beers and the enjoyment that comes with a Delta Psi party. For now though, he lets the warmness of her words wash over him and enjoys the sentiment.

Theo shrugs his jacket back on, grateful for the cover against the cold. His motorcycle provides him little to no cover from the elements, and when he likes to fly down the street he’s often left shivering afterwards once the chill catches up to him. “The Theo Pennington Ego Door-Widening Project has a good ring to it, don’t you think?” He feels her hands brush his shoulders and holds still for a moment, trying not to tense under the touch.

“Let them talk, Alvarez. More fun that way.” Theo hands out the helmet to her with a wink. He turns to holler over at the small group, waiting nearby the cars brought over. Chet waves over at Theo, motioning to Andrea. Theo knows he’s making sure she has a ride. “Drive safe, Pres. We’ll see you at the house.” Most of them carpool, so that anyone who wants to drink can start at the banquet without having to worry about the changing venue. Theo swings a leg over his Harley Davidson, scooting up so that she has ample room to climb on once he has it steadied. Once she is fully situated, he starts the bike up, the engine purring loudly as it comes to life.

A thought pops into Charlie’s head as she waits for an answer. He had mentioned at the start of their conversation him having a visitor that day. With her dad showing up at the base it makes her freeze. It could just be a coincidence. It most likely is just a coincidence. Anyone could have visited any bases in the country today. Her father wasn’t the be all end all of important people. There were many people of high rank, more important, even equal importance then her father that it could be.

Her pen hovers. She wants to ask who his visitor was. If it was her father then she would know he was on the same base as her. Charlie would know he was close, with in reach of her if, just if, his important visitor was her father.

Charlie hesitates to long and see his message saying it’s getting late. He’s right. It’s getting late and Charlie isn’t sure she is ready to have that piece of information on if he is there or not. Instead she swallows the question with the lump in her throat.

Korea would be nice.  You’re right though. Got an early morning too.

Charlie pauses slightly before adding one more line.

I hope your day tomorrow is better.

Charlie shoves the pen under her pillow and rolls over on her back. Her mind racing to much. There are so many questions she wants to ask. So many questions she is terrified to actually know the answer to. Instead she stands by her stupid pretend rule to only ask him something when he ask and opens the door. 

Charlie smiled down at her arm with a snicker at his comment. She tried to draw two jackets, writing Sand King on one and Sand King on the other. She blamed the dim lighting for it being far from any of her best doodles and decided that he would need to be the designer of the jackets that she hoped more then anything would not be made. Now understanding his hatred of the sand it was the last thing she would want on a jacket.

Still she chuckles and wait for his answer to were he is. Charlie had watched every Staff Sergeant in their base so carefully when she got there. Trying to see if anyone seemed to match the personality of the person she had been writing for years. After a week she knew that she wasn’t just going to be able to get lucky and guess which one was him, if any. 

Charlie always assumed he had to be in a different country. The idea of him being that close, in the same country ask her, maybe even the same base, just seemed too lucky. Charlie assumed she used all her luck to actually get stationed with Sam. She didn’t have any left for him to be within reach.

But the word Iraq showing up on her arm made the breathe catch in Charlie’s throat.

Which was your favorite?

She couldn’t make herself ask which base. Charlie chewed at her lip more as she tried to think again. Her mind ran over all the bases she knew of in Iraq. There was nearly a dozen. Leaving less then a 10% chance he could be at the same one as her. It be too lucky.

The jackets are awful, but they do the job of lessening the tension he feels creeping back in. 

Daniel wants to ask for more. Her first name. Her current base. Even her exact MOS. When her question comes back through, he can’t help but feel a bit disappointed at her next question. It moves the conversation back into a safer, less personal space, and Daniel tries not to feel a bit discouraged today. The fact that she even answered him and continued the conversation is a win, overall. And they’re close. Maybe, one day over the next year, if he’s braver, he’ll ask to meet. Maybe.

none of them I keep hoping they’ll move me to Korea one of these days

There's a small bit of shuffling down the hall, and Daniel finds himself rolling away from the door. It makes his arm harder to read, but lessens the likelihood of anyone catching on to what he is doing. A couple of other Sergeant’s snores fill the air and he knows he should get to bed after checking his watch.

Sand King. You need a new name badge.

Charlie can’t help but chuckle lightly to herself. It seems as if his mood as slightly improved since the start of their chat and Charlie is glad. He always has been there when she feels shitty and down. The last she can do is try to be there for him when he has a bad day as well. And the conversation has at least helped her forget just slightly about the shit ass day she has had as well.

She knowns she should say good night and actually try to sleep for PT in the morning. While Charlie isn’t expecting to see her father before he is off the next day, she should mentally prepare just in case. Her pen hovers, about to write that she is going to head to bed but she pauses as she sees more words showing up on a black space of her arm.

The question really makes her pause. Charlie had always been afraid to ask the serious questions first. She blamed it in the past on how he seemed freaked out by the messages when they first came to the term pen pal. But their conversations had moved so much past that stage that Charlie really didn’t have an excuse then for not trying to ask anything. But he had never asked before now either. Both of them seeming to scared of what might change if the conversations became more real.

Her pen hovers and Charlie chews at the inside of her lip before her presses the pen to her skin.

Iraq. You?

I’ll get us jackets. You can be Sand Queen now.

He’s nearly holding his breath, waiting for an answer to his question. It’s getting late, and he has to be up early in the morning to run class, but part of him aches for something close and familiar right now. He worries that she won’t answer for a moment. He could always wipe it off, and they could pretend like he never asks. It would be a blow to his ego, sure, but maybe she isn’t interested in crossing that boundary with him.

Her reply has his heart feeling like it’s in his throat. 

The thoughts that have been lurking in the back of his head come roaring to life, full of what-ifs. What if she’s at his FOB? What if he knows her already? What if she knows who he is, but refuses to acknowledge it because she hates him? There is doubt and uncertainty and it causes a small delay in his answer.

The gut feeling he’s had, that she’s closer than he imagined, makes a sudden wave of nervousness flood through Daniel. He’s had a hand building every major base in the area, and his reputation is definitely known. Has his soulmate heard of him? Has she met him? Would she be disappointed, if she had? All questions he doesn’t have any answers to.

          Being a werewolf, there were many times that Atlanta felt beholden to her body. The drawn out agony of a full moon, the daily wear and tear of shifting, the time she’d picked up a silver necklace and it had scalded her hand. There were days when she began to feel like she was just a vessel, an animal trapped inside her mostly human body, waiting to get out. There were even times where she had even considered it, back in the beginning. To just turn, let herself run free and never come back to the human world. 

          None of those times had prepared her for this. It was like every inch of her skin was brand new, being touched for the first time. A trail of sparks set off where his hand skimmed along her hips and up to her waist, burning, bruising touches that felt too much and too little at the same time. Instead of the stark separation of being a wolf, this was her body’s firm reminder that this time, she was blessedly human. 

          She could barely hear the sounds leaving her mouth, but they’re not sounds she’s ever made before. Never has she felt so carefully taken apart. And god, all this was just from one fucking kiss.

         Gasping, Atlanta dropped her head back and zeroed in on the feeling of his mouth against her neck. Her fingers gripped in his hair tight, dragging him in closer as if mere centimeters away was just too far. She blinked slowly, trying to pull herself together enough to meet his eyes, but she was too far gone to be saved. His eyes were so dark and distracted, his hair, usually so neatly styled, in complete disarray from her fingers. 

           “Talk?” Her voice cracked, caught in her throat. Like her mouth had decided she was never speaking again; she existed only to be kissed. 

           She thought for a moment, nearly second guessed herself. But never before had acting on instinct come so naturally, made her feel so alive. She was tired of thinking and over thinking and holding herself back. This was what they should have been doing all along.

          “Fuck talking, just touch me.” And before she could think again, she let her body take over. She nearly ripped the bottom hem of her tee shirt as she scrambled for it, moving to pull it over her head. 

☾

Delaware can feel the tension rippling between them when he pulls back, just slightly. He’s worried for a moment of what her reaction will be. Everything feels so volatile, like a blink in the wrong direction might set them off. Delaware isn’t sure if she wants to kiss him or smack him for a moment when their eyes meet. His heartbeat has to be audible from a mile away. Her voice catches over his question, and he feels the need to close the distance between them, to kiss and touch her again, like gunpowder settling over his skin, waiting for the spark to catch and explode. 

And there her words are the flame he has been waiting for, and something delicate and tucked away snaps inside of him. It takes his self-control along with it.

His eyes are hungry as he takes in every inch of her skin, exposed as her shirt is nearly ripped off of her and tossed to an empty corner of the room. Delaware moves fast, too fast for any human eye to track as he lifts up from his chair to carry her over to his bed. His arms hook under her and he stands, effortlessly despite the addition of her weight, keeping her as close as he can. Their mouths meet in another clash of want and dominance, one that he is intent to win. It’s a mix of lips, tongue, and teeth as desire rips through both of them.

It’s easy, too easy, to fall into the trappings of someone like Peter Maxwell. Unlike Theo, he takes pride in a seemingly clean reputation. The golden boy. The charmer. But Theo is not the only one who sees him for what he truly is, and Andrea takes her hand back with an expression that fails to be kind. A crinkle, haughty turn of her nose - the very one Theo’s often claimed as her sense of superiority. This time, it feels only fitting. “I wouldn’t bet on it.” Andrea utters, seething with her own annoyance. Yet Peter seems all too amused. Clearly, he’s never learned the distinction between persistence and gross determination. Fortunately, he leaves them be, with the curious glances departing with him.

“I already did. Mock trial competition in 2019, 2020, and 2021.” She leans closer, a livid glimmer in her eye that fails to be humble. “He has a peculiar habit of throwing a hissy fit each time he loses.” The only thing Andrea condemns more than a egoistic man, is one that resolves to temper tantrums. And though she dislikes becoming the pawn in Pennington and Maxwell’s contest, it’s a satisfying enough consequence. With a blink, she feels the sudden weight of his arm around her. Near weightless, until now. An awkward tightening of her lip, as Luisa scrambles to her side. Eyes wide and sharp, taken in by the spectacle.

“Really, Andy. What’s up with you and Theo?” Unlike previous times, there’s something imploring in the way Luisa looks at her. As if she’s seeing a side to her sister, that she’s never seen before.

“We’re just friends.” She waves off, running a hand along her goosebump laden arm and blaming it on the sudden chill.

“Just friends look like you and Sam. But you and Theo…” Her sentence ends with Chet nodding ruefully at Theo. More than ready to abandon the party and its fuss, in favor of champagne and a set of comfortable pants. Without fail, Ana and Luisa come to attention. They plead to tag along, something about ‘missing the college experience.’ It takes Andrea’s will not to make a snide remark, instead sighing pliantly.

“Two hours, Lu. I still have to drive you home.” Selfishly, Andrea could use the reprieve herself. Breaks aren’t common for her, yet she finds herself taking them more in Theo’s company. Oddly enough, it makes her a better student. Work life balance, and all that. Chet and Sam lead the pack, talking excitedly as they squirrel off near the bar. Luisa and Ana are hot in their trail, happy to add to the madness and steal bottles of liquor on their own.

With Andrea and Theo following slowly behind, she meets his unspoken question with a brief nod. A cool, singular acceptance of his actions. However much she disagrees with it, and insists on the ‘high road.’ Of course, it helps that there’s something easy about how they fell together. Andrea walks alongside him, waiting until they are outside the door to place a quick hand on his wrist.

“You aren’t a stage, Theo.” She admits, low yet filled with sincerity. After all, Andrea doesn’t lie. She inhales, passing a glance to ensure neither Peter or their circle of rag-tag friends are listening in. Her words are just for him. “Most of these people have it wrong. You’re nothing like what the stories imply. Definitely nothing like him.” Andrea nods in earnest. There’s a growing need in Theo’s company. A need to care for him, just as she does with everyone in her life. Yet unlike her sisters or Sam, who are often met with acts of service. It’s affirmation that she provides him. “You’re the real thing. Don’t forget it.”

🕮

Maxwell being an awful, sore loser is very in character, and Theo snorts when Alvarez talks about destroying him in mock trial. He watches the Alvarez sisters in their hushed whispers out of the corner of his eye, but Ana takes up most of Theo’s attention. Double Trouble tries to weasel their way into the Delta Psi afterparty, and Theo can’t find it in him to deny them. It should be a relatively minor party compared to the big ragers they throw sometimes, and even Andrea gives in after a little bit of desperate pleading. 

It feels like there is a small fog rolling through his head as he talks with his sister and follows his friends through the gorgeous banquet hall. He barely remembers to grab his suit jacket off the back of his chair before they start grouping up. Normally, words like Maxwell’s would just slide right off of his shoulders, but tonight Theo can’t help wonder if there is a modicum of truth buried underneath his blind stabbing in the dark in an attempt to get one over on him. 

Theo swipes a bottle of wine as he walks past one of the many bars set up but unattended. He knows the rest of the group will grab enough to go around, as they distract some of the bartenders and make off with a whole case. He trails the pack, letting the rest of them carry their enthusiasm out to the parking lot. It’s a short enough drive over to the fraternity house, and Theo aches for the freedom his motorcycle will give him to clear his head before the partying starts.

Unsurprisingly, Andrea joins him at the back of the group, her eyes watching over their sisters with a fond exasperation that Theo often feels. Her words are a kindness that he isn’t too sure he deserves after all of these years, but he accepts it nonetheless. After all, if Andrea Alvarez compliments you, she means it. Never in their decade of affiliation has he known her to say something nice for the sake of it. “You better be careful, Alvarez,” Theo’s smile is soft, not the normal cocky look in his face. “You keep that up and I won’t be able to fit through the door.” He’s grateful for the reassurance as they clear the main lobby doors and a gust of cool air hits him.

It grows darker in the bunks as everyone finally seems to start settling in for the night. With PT early the next morning almost everyone like to turn in early. It goes from one day to another of hard work and Charlie can’t name one person who all the training and drills doesn’t make exhausted at the end of the night. But once the words appeared on her arm Charlie was instantly awake again. She would take hours on hours of talking to him even if it meant have no sleep at all.

Charlie wonders if this is how he felt all the years of being able to instantly write to her when he was deployed and she was still in school. It’s easy, having someone there almost 24/7 that you could talk to with such ease. There was no waiting for letters or when it’s your chance to use a phone on base to make a call back home. The connect between them makes the messages instantaneous. And while they might not be able to actually talk every minute of every day due to their crazy schedules, its nice to know that if they could, they had the option without any of the wait.

Im sure your visitor knows that you tried your hardest to make everything perfect. And knowing how you are, Im sure it was. :)

Charlie adds a little tent under the moon. Making the image look more like a small camp site that could easily be anywhere in the world but the sand they were in right now. The picture becoming a small escape from where they are and the stress that comes with being there. She is adding a small camp fire when they rest of his message appears on his arm.

On a certain but less level Charlie can imagine how he feels. Her whole life everyone looked at her wondering if she would live up to her fathers name or keep being a reckless child who never amounted to anything. Everyone watching her every move, judging. But she doesn’t say that. She doesn’t want to make him feel like she is trying to change the topic to her. Charlie is there to listen to him tonight. Even if there messages have changed over the last year since she turned twenty one, it’s still rare for him to be this open and Charlie isn’t going to do anything but let him get it off his chest and be there as support.

Just think of it this way One day when you are running that base fully, even higher rank on your uniform It’s going to be amazing seeing their faces Proving how wrong they are

Daniel’s hands trace over the lines of the tent. Sometimes, he can trick his brain into thinking he can feel the pen strokes over his skin. It doesn’t work like that, of course. Marks never came with pain or sensation, just image, but Daniel can picture her heavier lines, usually slightly crooked or askew as she fills in the gaps under his drawings. There is a comfort he takes from it, always being connected and just a small amount of writing away from someone linked to him.

Too bad we don’t have a time machine. I’ll be king of the sand one day.

A small smirk at the title, now that she knows his pain firsthand. Daniel feels himself growing sleepy, the weight of the day settling over him like a blanket. Her words show a softness Daniel doesn’t see too often; most of the time his soulmate is quick to make light, or a joke of, serious things rather than talk them through. 

What country are you in?

Sam can instantly tell Charlie is in a mood when she returns after lunch. Charlie barely says a word to her before changing and heading to the small gym on base with Sam right behind her. It’s almost odd in a way. Charlie would normally take to going out and drinking until she didn’t care to get over a shit day like today before she was deployed. That isn’t an option when she has PT first thing in the morning and there isn’t a bar anywhere near them.

So she has taken to working out more. It works differently but well enough that Charlie can keep going until her brain doesn’t let her be mad anymore. Instead she is just sore and tired and has Sam bring her back something from mess for dinner since she doesn’t want to get called over to another awkward meal with her father if he is there. Between picking at her lunch and the workout afterwards Charlie devours the meal without a care of how shit it taste.

Charlie is staring up at the bottom of Sam bunk trying to get her brain to shut back off from the day when she notices the words start to appear on her arm. There is an instant soft smile on her face. Ever since she got deployed Charlie hasn’t been able to write as much as she would before. Some days leave her so exhausted she isn’t sure how she even makes it back to the bunk. It makes her understand why she wouldn’t always get messaged from her soulmate before. 

Even with being busy Charlie still tries to always check her arm even if she isn’t able to write. It’s a habit that was engrained in her from always waiting for messages before when she was still in school.

Her fingers trace the moon and then the second line of text before she reaches for a pen she keeps inside her pillow case when she is in her bunk so she can easily access it.

Youre telling me

She adds a few stars next to his moon as she rereads the bottom line. Charlie almost wishes she didn’t smile at her arm with the stupid grin she knew was on her face as often as she did. There was something much less disconnected in there messages for a while now. It made Charlie more annoyed they hadn’t been able to meet before her deployment.

Ive missed you too Tell me about your day

Daniel smiles back at her response, enjoying the admission. There aren’t a lot of people to really miss Daniel. His mother makes the short list, and some extended family that visits her. Other than that, though? There is no one else waiting for Daniel back home, no one else to care if he’s there or not. The thought of his soulmate missing him makes him feel warm and gooey inside, which would normally annoy him more than anything else.

our base had a visitor today  I spent most of the day trying to make everything look perfect, even though we have so much work left to do.

Daniel adds a cloud, behind the moon, and some more stars to the picture. He smudges away his words so they have more room to draw a night sky out there. If Daniel cranes his neck, he can see out of the main door of their bunks and into the night sky. The one beautiful thing about living at the FOB is the view of the moon and the stars as most of the lights are muted. The desert is truly a beautiful place, once you get past all of the sand.

His tours with Richard have left him tired, especially after a tense conversation between the two of them and one of the Majors on base who has made his disdain for Daniel very clear. Every time Daniel tries to get something down, there are unforeseen roadblocks, extra paperwork, or denial of funds to get through. He’s tired of the petty bullshit, and wants the old base restored so it can go back to being someone else’s problem.

He blames his tiredness on how open he is tonight. Usually Daniel keeps his thoughts under a strict lock and key, buried in his head. There’s no use in complaining, after all, when there is work to do. Renee is his best friend, and Daniel hesitates to tell her half of the things he struggles with. His soulmate though? Daniel’s never had a hard time talking to her. That was always the problem.

“That’s the only reason I let you to do it.” If it were not for a good cause, Andrea would happily accept the consequences of her scholarship. But as it stands, it’s the Pennington’s fundraiser to begin with. The money all ultimately goes to the same place, and she justifies his expense in the same way. At this issue, she relents. The matter of Nantucket, however, is an argument Andrea is primed and ready to have. She’s never been the patient sorts, nor one to think much of time or place. Yet from the easy, almost daringly casual way Theo smiles? It’s apparent that the conversation is done now that Peter Maxwell has fluffed his feathers on approach. Having grown up in a predominantly female household, it’s only her time at Kingswood and Yale that put machismo into focus. She can feel Theo rise to the occasion, and she peers at his arm over her shoulders with trepidation. Half a mind to remove it altogether, if not for the man in question.

Unfortunately, it’s a necessity to keep the persistent Princeton lawyer at bay.

Like most in the room, she watches their exchange as if it were a ping-pong match. Peter’s first glib, comment on Theo’s tenure as a student feels particularly raw. How many times had Andrea made the same insult, and meant it too? Granted, it was before the friendship they formed. But hearing it now is jarring. In place of her regret, she moves closer beside Theo. Some form of compensation, at least. From the corner of her eye, she can see Luisa and Ana watching on. Their expressions even more taken aback, by the growing shift between their siblings. With a sympathetic nod, she reassures Ana with a singular nod. Tonight would not be a night of another fight.

“Actually - I was coming to give Andrea my condolences.” Peter’s attention turns to her now, and the loss of his anger is swift. Instead, he is the picture of charm. His handsome features contorted into warmth and charm.

“Thank you, Peter.” Andrea says, perfunctory and polite. Peter’s attention may be grating, but he’s never personally been unkind. Still, she carries a similar loyalty to Theo, as he does to her. Andrea steps even closer, and places a quick hand on Theo’s chest. “We’re really looking forward to a weekend away.” She says, tone purposefully low and conspiratorial. As if she’s letting him in on a secret, rather than ensuring her words don’t spread through campus like wildfire. At that, Peter cannot help his own instinct. A harsh scoff in disbelief. Loud enough to earn more curious stares in their direction.

“Really? Pennington?” His eyebrows raise, before falling back into his aristocratic decorum. “Guess every girl goes through that stage. Call me when you’ve got it out of your system.” Peter expresses, lathered with charm while he reaches for her hand. He brushes a quick kiss on the back of it, a show of decorum that just makes the entire discussion more uncomfortable.

🕮

Theo feels himself bristle when Maxwell turns his gaze to Alvarez. He knows that look, the slick, charming, used car salesman persona that Peter adopts. He has tricked lesser women into his bed with that sleazy smile, hidden behind a thousand dollar suit and a flash of money. Andrea knows better, of course, but it still doesn’t stop the feelings from welling up inside of Theo at the predatory look in his eyes.

He wants to be a good friend, of course. And letting Alvarez near Peter Maxwell? That is pure bad friend behavior. It has nothing to do with whatever else he’s insinuating from their closeness, but Theo does not stop him from jumping to assumptions at her small gestures. He feels the press of her palm through the material of his dress shirt. It’s another unexpected move on her behalf, one that sells the act entirely too well as she curls into Theo’s much taller frame, fitting against him in a way that surprisingly works.

Peter’s departure is long overdue. Part of him wants to knock his teeth in and ruin that pretty boy face of his; without his money and his smile to hide behind Peter would have a hard time actually attracting a woman.

“What a fucking douchebag.” He can’t help the growl under his breath as Maxwell saunters away with his last parting blow. He could hurl another comment at his back, but Theo knows better. Lose the battles to win the war. “One day, you are going to mop the floor with him inside of a courtroom and I will be there with popcorn,” Theo promises. After a couple of seconds he realizes that he is still crowding Andy’s personal space, the skin under his hand warmed from the extended touch. He pulls his arm back and puts some distance between them. Trisha is halfway to the bathroom by the time Theo remembers to look at her, and well, fuck, he’ll be hearing about that from Lucy tomorrow. 

“Theo?” Ana is by his side, having witnessed the entire exchange. She looks up at him and Theo can see the question in her expression. “I’m fine,” he mutters, his hands mussing up his hair again. It’s such an easy tell of his, whenever he’s annoyed or stressed, but he pretends that he’s unbothered. Maxwell won’t be the last person to push that insult in his face, after all. The collar of his shirt is suddenly stifling, and he wants to tug off his tie and kick back at the Delta Psi house. Ana reaches out for his hand and he locks their fingers for a moment, squeezing them before dropping her grip. 

He turns to regard Alvarez, trying to read her expression to make sure she isn’t pissed at him for overstepping. Sam, Lu, and Ana form a small semi circle around him, blocking out most of the tables in their general area. Theo is thankful for it.

“I’m ready to get out of here.” A glance over at Sam. “I promised Chet we’d steal a couple bottles of wine and pretend to be fancy tonight.”

Charlie pushes at her food more. Fully given up on being apart of the conversation and stealing any attention from her father. She checks her watch again and wonders if she can make an excuse to leave early from the lunch. As excited as she had been for it earlier Charlie is ready for it to be over. She rather have to be doing push ups until her arms gave out and she was covered in salt from head to toe then sit there any longer. 

It seems she isn’t the only one with the idea to bolt. Charlie’s attention snaps up again when Daniel stands, not expecting him to leave so soon. She is back to trying to not make eye contact with him again. She isn’t able to school the annoyance fully off her features anymore and doesn’t want him to notice the jealous that she tries to hide.

Richard nods, telling Daniel that he has kept him to long from his work and he will join up with him later. Charlie can’t help but wonder if he hated the lunch as much as she did. He probably wanted the time with Richard to himself as she did and she bites back more bitterness.

The conversation is lacking on all sides once Daniel leaves. Charlie can count the number of words that Richard says to her as Charlie tries at first to fill the silence with telling him what all she has got to experience and the lack of an answer makes her fall quiet quickly. 

Charlie has never been so excited to see Sergeant Yelvington as she is when the approach asking if Richard wants to see the changes to one of the buildings since Richard was last there. It cuts the lunch to an end that Charlie is happy to finally have. Richard mentions that he might not have time to visit again while there and Charlie nods in understanding and honestly expected it. It’s not like anything visit would go any better then this one anyways.

Daniel is grateful to get away from the awkward Powell dynamic that he’s experienced for the first time. When he sees Richard later that night, Charlotte is not in attendance, and it goes much more smooth. For a moment he wonders if this is how his soulmate felt, when her father went on and on about someone that wasn’t her. Daniel can see why it would be annoying; he saw firsthand how devastated Charlie was, and he felt awful about it. And he doesn’t even like Charlie Powell, grade-A pain in his ass.

Their tour goes smooth, with Richard singing his praise in a way that Daniel appreciates. It always feels nice to have someone in his corner, willing to hype him up and have his back. They end the meeting with a game plan for tomorrow, and Master Sergeant Powell’s convoy departs right after lunch. It’ll be a busy morning and he will have to skip PT and leave it in Miller’s capable hands.

Daniel’s back in his bunk, a small room with some of the other higher ranking enlisted soldiers stationed at the base. It’s nowhere near as fancy as the officer’s quarters, but Daniel prefers their small nook. Renee trades some stories about her day, and one of the major fuck ups of a private who can’t seem to do anything right. Daniel wishes that she could take Morgan, too, and alleviate his old headache at how lazy the guy is. He settles into his bed soon after, using a small portable light to jot down some notes in his notebook. It’s been nearly two days since he’s really had a chance to sit down and write his soulmate, and he finds himself missing her.

today was exhausting

Daniel scribbles out. He draws a moon next to the ‘g’ of his words, tapping his pen. Now that she’s finally deployed, Daniel feels their bond strength over the last month. Before, she hears and sympathizes with his struggles overseas. Now, she has a new grasp on them, sharing issues and understanding his plights with firsthand knowledge of things. It’s new and exciting, and Daniel finds himself drawn to her more and more every day. They’re both adults now, and some of his restraint has been slipping recently.

Charlie instantly is taken back to anytime her father would be home from a deployment or even just a trip to the different bases. Any time he would come home from any visit he had with Daniel. She never thought much could be worse then sitting around the dinner table, wanting to just share what she was doing in school and then West Point and not getting a word in because her father walk talking about Daniel Cox, bright man, amazing soldier, someone the army really needed.

She didn’t think it could get much worse then that but here it is. It’s having to be a third wheel to a conversation with them. To have to hear him talk about how Daniel is running the base better then he could have expected. To hear her father account that she is doing well and shaping up only thanks to Daniel. Having to sit and not be included in the conversation going on between them.

Charlie picks at her food and only answers when she needs to, which is very rarely as she pushed the food around her plate, feeling less and less hungry as the conversation goes on and she has to stop herself from checking her watch or pulling out her pen.

It’s Daniel’s voice that actually tries to get her involved in the conversation and Charlie’s head snaps up quickly and can’t help but actually look at Daniel this time instead of avoiding him glance like she had all meal. Charlie doesn’t pause for long, feeling like it might be her only chance to actually speak and taking it.

Charlie starts quickly about the PT and work on the Humvees. She jumps into the skills they have been able to put to use that were taught to them at West Point and being able to use them hands on. She can’t help but try to brag a bit, hoping to make her father even the slightest proud of her as she mentions the drill they had a few weeks back. “I solved the largest issue with our Humvee and even was able to help a fellow team get theirs up and started again.”

She looks between the two of them again, her eyes pausing on Daniel with almost a thankful look of being brought into the conversation. For a split second Charlie feels bad for thinking that he must have been reporting everything back to her father. Charlie had thought maybe she was wrong when they first walked in, when her father asked how she was doing like he didn’t know and Daniel answered much nicer then she ever thought he would speak of her. But now it seems like she might have been completely wrong on that idea when he is the one who got her father to listen to her.

It’s short lived.

“It seems you have a great program you have formed here Dan.“

Her father doesn’t even answer her, directing the conversation right back to Daniel. Charlie drops her glance back to her plate and tried to hide the bitter jealously that covers her features.

Daniel watches them interact carefully, trying to figure out the dynamic a bit more. Whenever it’s just him and Richard, he talks about his daughter in a proud, gruff sort of way that he’s come to expect. In her presence, though, he barely gives Charlotte the time of day. It’s kind of sad to watch and Daniel is happy to sit back and let the two of them talk.

It’s strange, to see Charlie talking passionately without being a smartass. He can tell that his training has actually stuck, despite her attempt to give him a hard time at every turn, and there is a shine to her eyes that he has never seen before. Their gazes lock for a second and Daniel has to bite back a smile when she talks with pride about solving the Humvee issue first. Since the original PT, Charlie has stood out as an excellent mechanic, so much so that the Lieutenant Colonel of the FOB insists on keeping her in their company instead of sending her forward to rebuild. 

Richard seems to cut her down at the knees, and Daniel has mixed feelings about it.

“The rebuild’s been a team effort, sir. I’m just grateful for how well it’s going.” The bitterness is clear on Charlie’s face, but Daniel knows it isn’t his place to get in between their family dynamic. He takes another couple bites of food before getting to his feet, tucking his hat back under his arm.