Just Two Guys in Hammock
Mar. 4th, 2013 08:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notjustaface Things have been going well, each mission the team seems a little closer - hell, they may as well be family... it's not like any of them have anyone else that would go out of their way to take care of them the way they take care of each other.
They're on standby in Borneo awaiting what Hannibal has assured them will be morning deployment working with another team of local boys that are sharing camp - after a few days it's a little more like a frat house on the beach than a half dozen tents and a couple APCs, nice and cozy complete with a campfire that never stops and free flowing local brew that comes in bright blue cans the size of an ankle and leaves behind a bitter aftertaste and substantial buzz after a few.
Relaxed, Face excuses himself from the circle of men around the campfire as Hannibal tells the story about the Venezuelan midgets to the rapt strangers and BA - he gives Murdock, who's hovering between the grill and the coolers, a nod - and then retires to his hammock just off the beach strung between a pair of tall, shaded trees.
He slings himself into the wide netting with a low, comfortable groan and downs the last of his beer before dropping the empty can where he can pick it up later.
"This is livin'..." At least as close to living as it gets when there's no solid roof over your head and the possibility of heavy artillery fire without notice.
They're on standby in Borneo awaiting what Hannibal has assured them will be morning deployment working with another team of local boys that are sharing camp - after a few days it's a little more like a frat house on the beach than a half dozen tents and a couple APCs, nice and cozy complete with a campfire that never stops and free flowing local brew that comes in bright blue cans the size of an ankle and leaves behind a bitter aftertaste and substantial buzz after a few.
Relaxed, Face excuses himself from the circle of men around the campfire as Hannibal tells the story about the Venezuelan midgets to the rapt strangers and BA - he gives Murdock, who's hovering between the grill and the coolers, a nod - and then retires to his hammock just off the beach strung between a pair of tall, shaded trees.
He slings himself into the wide netting with a low, comfortable groan and downs the last of his beer before dropping the empty can where he can pick it up later.
"This is livin'..." At least as close to living as it gets when there's no solid roof over your head and the possibility of heavy artillery fire without notice.
no subject
Date: 2013-03-05 07:51 am (UTC)"Yeah... well..." he coughs back a sheepish sigh, but knows them better than that.
no subject
Date: 2013-03-05 07:52 am (UTC)Awkward, party of two, your table is ready.
"See you back at camp?"
no subject
Date: 2013-03-05 07:55 am (UTC)"Yeah, I'll be around... after.. I just..."
He laughs again, failing to believe that he - Templeton Peck - is actually blushing.
"I'm gonna drink another beer."
no subject
Date: 2013-03-05 08:09 am (UTC)He gives him an affectionate shoulder squeeze as he gets up. Or attempts to. Hammocks are tricky devils.
no subject
Date: 2013-03-05 08:12 am (UTC)"I will!"