Totally Not A Date. Date.

[notjustaface]

Things have been good, work has been good. On the whole, it's business as usual. Maybe a few more nights in, passing up a pretty girl he could have had without thinking from time to time, but after a few solid months he's back to his old self.

Back to his game. Back to good friends and one night stands with the occasional brush with death just to keep things fresh. Back to boxes tucked away neatly with minimal shaking in the back of his mind because he doesn't have to think about it.

Base housing is comfortable living for the moment, a small house split two ways with a room across the hall from his best friend that doesn't put too much of dent in his stipend. And, it's bro-night. Dinner that may or may not kill him, a movie complete with Murdock's hand-puppet commentary and a few beers. Maybe other things, if it's a good night.

He's fresh from the shower in nothing but a pair of loose shorts when he follows the familiar tang of scorched meat in the air from the tiny back patio. "You cookin', Murdock?"

Comments

[notthatcrazy]

"Yep. Almost done."

Things have been pretty good lately. They've settled into something that, while not ideal in his book, is at least a very happy medium. And probably the most he's likely to get considering the specter of DADT hanging over their heads.

Not to mention the myriad other issues they're dealing with.