The mess tent didn't have ice cream and they all made due with sandwiches instead. Even Molly, desperate for
sweets, wasn't willing to touch the 'banana' pudding that was offered. Andi ate, surprised to find herself so hungry.
Surprised it was so easy to eat now when only this morning she'd had a stomach so full of knots the thought of food
was nauseating. She'd gotten used to it but it never stopped amazing her how much could happen in the space of a
single day.
How much could change...
It was just as well they'd eaten when they did. A new group of refugees arrived and Andi ended up working through
dinner and sunset as well just stabilizing the new arrivals that had been so desperate that they'd needed to be
brought to the camp itself for treatment. Mike stopped by long enough to say he'd visited Clancy and the soldier was
still stable. Andi thought tonight would probably be the deciding point for him. Prayed silently as she worked that he
could stay.
By the time they were finally done and she'd cleaned up, night had long since set in and she actually got herself a
thermos of tea. Needing the relaxing liquid. Running a hand absently through her hair which she'd finally taken out of
the pony tail, she walked over to the tent they'd put Clancy in. Quiet as she slipped inside and waited for her eyes to
adjust to the difference.
There was one other patient in there with Clancy, funny enough a militia member. Maybe one of the guys who had
shot Clancy up. Or maybe one of the ones that had tried to shoot them up the week before.
But they were off the battlefield, so Hector didn't give the guy a passing thought, really. Besides, he was as out as
Clancy was, only the sounds of a ventilator and a nurse doing her charting, pen scratching on the paper, filled the
tent. Along with the sounds of Hector turning pages, pages of a book he had long since lost interest in, but otherwise
he would just stare at Clancy, like he had when Mike had come around to change the surgical dressings. And if he
stared too long he'd start imagining things that weren't there. Which wasn't good for either man. He did glance up at
the IV bag, attached to tubing that was dripping solutions and medicines into Clancy's arm.
"Almost dry." He said softly to the nurse, though his voice still broke the silence, he almost jumped from the sound of
it. He glanced at the door when he saw the flap move and saw Andi step in. "Hey." He said with a warm smile. "Come to
join the highly cerebral conversation?" That at least got a chuckle out of the nurse as she came over to change
Clancy's IV bag.
"Only if it’s the Wallace and Gromit type of cerebral." Andi admitted with a quiet smile. Checking the charts of both of
the men in the tent from long habit before she moved over to join Hector. She gave Illyia, the nurse, a smile and then
rested her arms against the back of Hector's chair, looking over his shoulder at Clancy. Who was still breathing and
that let just a fraction of the tension in her slip loose.
"How's he doing?" she asked softly. Just to hear Hector's opinion. And then she squinted and caught sight of the book
in his lap, reaching down to touch a page of it. "And what are you reading?"
"Seems to be doing all right." Hector said, though he had had a bit of a scare two hours earlier. Well, a scare for him.
Looked like Clancy was seizing or something. Turned out he was 'bucking the ventilator,' a good thing. Meant they
could turn it down a bit and let him breathe a little more on his own. Of course, on his own he was breathing six times a
minute, and it had been patiently explained to him that he should be breathing at least 16. So, six on his own, and 10
on the machine. But that was six more than before, so that was an improvement.
He chuckled at the book and leaned his head back to look up at her. "Ethics, Computing and Genomics: Moral
Controversies in Computational Genomics." He grinned up at her. "I have no idea what that means, but it’s keeping me
awake as I try to figure it out."
It was the grin that did it. She could have handled the she was tired and he was still carrying 'worried' around the
edges of his eyes and all. But the grin pushed her right over the edge and she leaned down and softly kissed him.
Because she needed to.
"It means someone's trying to kill you with boredom." She murmured quietly afterward.
"Most likely." He agreed, the grin turning into an honest smile. "But they're doing a poor job, see, the book has a
glossary in the back of it. I think its actually supposed to be called Bio-ethics for Dummies, but I'm not sure." He
chuckled again then straightened up as someone else entered the tent.
"Sorry man..." The new person tried apologizing.
"You're late." Was all Hector said.
"I was..."
"Doesn't matter. Your turn." Hector said, pretty sure what the other Delta was up to. Shamefacedly, he took the book
from Hector and took his seat when Hector got up. "Enjoy the book. Pop quiz in the morning." He joked a bit as he took
Andi's hand. He'd seen her check the charts, so he figured he could drag her out of there. "Come on, I am about to go
mad with boredom!"
Andi glanced at the new arrival as he took the chair, curious as to why he'd been late and how Hector had noticed in
the first place but she let Hector lead her out of the tent, hand automatically fitting itself more snugly in his. Not many
men had longer hands than hers. Bigger but not in the length. But Hector had long fingers that matched his long
hands. Realizing she was distracting herself she gave him as smile as she straightened from ducking out of the tent.
"I already heard you played a game with Mike today so you're going to have to find something else to relieve your
boredom." She warned. "I can't take advantage of you on the court twice in the same day." Perfectly willing to let him
lead wherever it was he was headed.
Hector chuckled as they headed outside. "You heard about that?" He said with a grin. "It was a fun game." He
released her hand, only because he had to. After hours in the chair, he felt like his spine was at least a foot shorter
and he badly needed to stretch. So he clasped his own hands and brought them straight over his head, arching his
back, on tip toes, until his back finally gave a satisfying crack. "Ah, that's better." He said. "Anyway, I just had to get
out of there. Only so long I can watch people breathe with the nurse glaring at me." Of course, it wasn't unexpected or
even uncalled for. He had made quite a nuisance of himself, getting in the way, demanding, things like that, when the
vent thing happened.
"Illyia's a very patient woman. If she was glaring you must have done something horrible." Andi noted with a smile.
Watching him. Muscles had always fascinated her. The way they rolled and wove and wrapped over the bone
structure. If she had any artistic talent at all she might have been tempted to go into sculpting. Luckily for the rest of
the world she couldn't create an ashtray with clay and a mold. But sometimes she still forgot and was surprised by how
simply perfect muscle flow was.
This was just the first time she'd ever noticed it on a man she found attractive before. She watched the way he moved
a bit more critically after that. Because it distracted her when she was watching for stiff or sore movements. And
thinking about how rough she'd heard his game with Mike had gone was probably a better place for her mind to be.
"Did you get dinner?" she asked mildly.
"I had a flat soda and three protein bars." He said, holding up three fingers as he chuckled. "Does that count? And I
didn't do anything horrible. I mean, besides being my normal obnoxious self where medical matters and my friend are
concerned. I think her exact words were 'unless he stops breathing, don't bother me' after about the tenth false alarm.
Hopefully if you're offering me dinner, protein bars are NOT on the menu, I don't think I could choke down another
one."
He watched her in the moonlight, this was the first time he had ever seen her with her hair down. The sky was perfectly
clear, as it always was. Rain came infrequently in these parts, leaving a sky full of black and silver, and all of it
reflected in the soft waves that framed her incredible face.
She laughed quietly at that.
"Silly American, protein bars are good for you." She tapped his chest lightly as she lied. Then she stepped past him.
Eyes still smiling.
"But if you're going to insist on 'real' food, I happen to know where they keep it after they've closed down the mess
tent. I'm sure we can pillage something. You being Delta and knowing all about back doors and such." She started for
the tents nearest the generators where they kept the food lockers.
Glancing over at his profile in the moonlight as they walked, she asked:
"And how many times did you bother Illyia after she told you not to anymore?"
"Only a few. Not that many. Like..once...twice...fourteen?" Hector said, trying really hard NOT to look like the little boy
caught sneaking candy before dinner. "So, see, I didn't earn her wrath at all." But he turned on his heel anyway and
headed over to the food lockers with her.
"I think she'll warm up to me. She said I reminded her of her cousin." Then he laughed. "Of course this cousin is in
prison, but I'll take that."
She laughed quietly at that.
"If she was telling you about Yuri than she's soft on you already." She slipped him a laughing look from the corners of
her eyes. Thinking - that little boy look would melt any woman. "Or just taking pity on you. One of the two." Despite the
natural inclination of most of the workers in the camp, she thought Hector would be very hard not to like if he decided
to charm someone. She'd seen him do it several times already. She even had faith that, given enough time, he'd
manage to win Suzette over despite herself.
There was just the problem of having enough time in the first place...
"So how did the game with you and Mike go?" She asked casually.
"Just two American boys kicking back and bonding over a rubber ball." Hector said with a grin. "We're both bruised,"
might as well admit it, she seemed to already know, and then there was the one on his arm, which by tomorrow at the
latest should be a vivid shade of purple and black. "But like I said, its how American boys bond. Needless to say, you
got the easy game."
"Mm." Andi commented. Suspecting it was a case of 'the lady doth protest too much' but not mentioning that. After all,
Hector was grinning about it and Mike had seemed more relaxed when she'd seen him earlier. Whatever they'd
decided while beating the stuffing out of each other, they both seemed comfortable with it. She wondered if that
method of sorting out things was American, military, or simply male. "I will have to remember to not play the 'bonding'
type of basketball game with you then." She added, teasing, as they ducked into the tent the food lockers were kept in.
A camp like this never quite slept. And eating schedules went entirely out the window on a fairly regular basis. Since
the cooks couldn't be up and serving food at all hours, there were several food lockers and cupboards left unlocked
for late night doctors and nurses just remembering to eat. Andi took Hector's hand and led him through the dim
interior from memory, only having to stop and fumble once they'd reached the 'mini' kitchen and she had to search
across a counter top for something to give them illumination.
"If I can't find a lamp," she commented, "we can always waste power and use the light from the ice box."
"Nah, you really don't want to. Most sane logical people don't like to get bruised up and call it a good time." He said
with a chuckle as he felt along an aluminum counter. "And then he said, let there be light." He said and flicked on the
flashlight he found by a cutting board. "But that's one thing home has over every place else. Air conditioning. I really
enjoy it on my times off." For the army bases weren't high on the A/C, especially since his tended to be 'on location'
and were usually a mess of tents or at best, an old warehouse or hangar converted for their uses. "Gotta tell you
though, the only thing I can make is gumbo."
Andi was about to make a comment on air conditioning - a truly foreign concept - when he mentioned cooking. Or
rather what he could cook. Her face shifted into mild horror and she stated:
"That doesn't even sound like something natural."
Hector laughed and shone the flashlight around the small kitchen. “It’s perfectly natural.” He said. “Let’s see, okra,
peppers, some kind of meat, I usually go for the sea food, your shrimp and crab, maybe crawfish. Roux, rice....trust
me, its good.” He said. “Also the only thing I don’t add tabasco sauce to. What a sheltered life you’ve led, no idea
what gumbo is.” He shook his head. “My father’s side is from Louisiana. Least, his mom’s side was. Popular
traditional food there. One of these days, with the proper ingredients, I’ll make it for you.”
A sharp little pain went through her heart at his last sentence and it made the air she was inhaling jerk a bit. He said it
so simply. So casually. 'One of these days...'
"I'm not even sure what 'okra' is." She admitted, shifting his hand lightly with her fingertips to direct the beam from the
flashlight where she needed it to go. Suddenly acutely aware of his presence as she moved in front of him to pull
things down from the cabinets. Watching what she was doing she intentionally maligned the word as she asked:
"So did your grandmother teach you to cook 'gumpo' or was it your father?"
There was a moment of silence there, then he cleared his throat a bit. "My grandmother. My father...he's not much
for...well..." He shook his head. "My grandmother taught me. She made sure all her grandchildren that she was alive
for knew that much at least before she passed. Like it was her mission on Earth or something. That and you can
survive on gumbo," he good naturedly accentuated the word there, "If you’ve got nothing else. Has most of the food
groups in it you know."
She might have thought he was talking casually. But he meant every word.
"Mm." She hummed the word. Wondering what his father wasn't much for. Wondering that so many of his stories
started with grandparents and not parents. She shifted over to open the ice chest and rummage inside, pulling out the
leftover food she was looking for. Cubbed potatoes and chicken. Chopped tomatoes. Leaning in deep she found the
hidden stash of eggs one of the cooks was probably 'saving'.
"What else did your grandmother teach you?" She asked mildly.
Hector laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "You know, the normal grandparent stuff I guess." He said. "Um...
between the two of them, grandma and grandpa, I learned how to steal cable, how to hot-wire a 67 Ford cause
Grandpa lost the keys, change my own oil, play piano, clean a fish, algebra, pick up lines NOT to use on women, why
the Red Sox suck...normal things." He said, going quickly through the list. Course, part of it slipped out, it was
something not even his own chalk knew, but god, he just had this need to tell her absolutely everything for some
reason.
She turned around with a smile. Just having to see his face. His grandparents sounded - wonderful. She could guess
the grandmother at least was gone but he'd obviously spent a great deal of time with both her and his grandfather on
that side. She envied him that close family tie. And the list he'd given... it was so hard to decide where to start. She
picked the easiest one.
"So these lines you're NOT supposed to use - which ones are those?" She asked, dark eyes laughing.
He laughed. That at least was an amusing one. "Let's see." He said, thinking as he took the eggs out, reaching
around her. "I left my teddy bear at home, can I sleep with you? I forgot my number can I have yours? Do you believe
in love at first sight? If not, should I walk by again?" He laughed as he went through the list, juggling the eggs easily in
his large hands. "Your daddy musta been a thief because he stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes.
You can stop me any time."
He had her laughing. Honest, easy laughter for all it was quiet. And it felt good.
"No, no." She protested, smiling up at him. Enjoying the look on his face as he went through bad pick up lines.
Enjoying the sound of his laugher. "I'm quite enjoying this. Much more creative than 'how many cows does your father
want for you?'."
He laughed and waved it off. "They start to go down hill from there, definitely cross the line into vulgar territory, where
only drunk men---if then---can get away with it and leave some semblance of pride and dignity intact." He said. "Why?
How many cows does your father want for you? You know, there are cows in America."