Andi gave up and let him with a chuckle as he reached past her to get the box she'd been attempting to bring down on
her head.
"Thanks." She took the box, looking up at him with a crocked grin. "I thought I was going to have to call Suzette over
and crawl on her shoulders or something." She wasn't used to not being the tallest one around. It was a bit of a nice
feeling. Not to mention helpful. She touched the side of his chin softly with a finger, watching his face.
"You look better." She observed. "Not so tired. Did you have a good day today?"
"I had an....interesting day." He said with a chuckle, thinking briefly about the Swedish internist, smiling a bit more as
he also remembered how he fell for the old Elvis distraction. "Not too busy. Just...weird....being in the civilian sector
again." especially given the view points around here.
"Obviously not as productive a day as you, but I’m not used to sleeping at night, and you did say I could come bother
you."
"I did, didn't I?" Andi agreed with a grin. Pleased he'd come and not just because he was so handy for upper shelves.
She still had work to do. And Suzette would be back in a minute or so and while the other woman wouldn't say anything
Andi already knew there would be facial signals. But she thought all of that could wait for a moment or more.
"So tell me what 'interesting' means in American." She asked, linking her fingers together to hold the box of slides and
tilted her head to look up at him. "Because to my English mother it always mean 'awful but I don't want to hurt your
feelings and say so'. And, as fair warning, I did already hear about a basketball game thanks to a skinned knee I had
to mend."
"No, it wasn't that bad." He insisted, then smiled a little sheepishly. "Just didn't know I'd have to defend American
history from the settling of the original 13 colonies. If I'd known that, I might have paid a bit more attention in history
class." He shrugged. "And the knee wasn't that bad, he's a wimp. And a sore loser." He laughed a bit. "Italians just
aren't used to American basketball, I guess. He was expecting something a bit more civilized I think."
Andi had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. Mostly because she knew she really shouldn't despite the
fact he looked so cocky about it. Poor Vasil. Much more the lover than the fighter type. No idea what he'd gotten into
and she wondered if Hector had been the only Delta playing.
"I saw the knee, remember?" She reminded him, still trying not to smile. Vasil had begun calling it his 'war wound' and
cheerfully trying for sympathy attention with it. It really hadn't been all that bad. "I take it you won? Your descendants
might have to apologize for that in a hundred years or so, you do realize." She added. Teasing.
He laughed and leaned against a tent pole on his shoulder. "Nah, they'll get over it. He'll get me back if we ever do
soccer." He shrugged as he watched her try not to laugh and smile. "Besides, basketball is a game where height is an
advantage, and I have a couple of inches at least on most of the guys here."
He watched her still. "Ever play? I know its not particularly popular in England or even these parts, but its still a helluva
game."
She made a face at him and turned to set the box on a counter.
"That's the game where the point is to throw a ball into a net?" She looked over her shoulder at him, face innocent and
dark eyes laughing. Leaning the way he was, he looked as if he owned the place. And it seemed to fit him too well for
her to be bothered by that. And yes, he was taller than most men she knew. It wasn't often that she had to tilt her face
to look someone in the eye. She looked back at the labeled slides in front of her, trying to remember what she was
supposed to be looking for. "I do seem to have heard vague rumors of the creature before. Something about making
enough baskets allows you to sell shoes and sports drinks." She shot him another smile and then started sorting
through the slides. "Is that your best sport then? Basketball?"
He had to laugh at that. A nice commercialized view point of pro basketball, or any pro sport for that matter.
"I don't really have a best sport, more like sports I enjoy. Some sports are more portable than others, football for
example. Got a pigskin, will travel. And I have yet to be on a base or camp that didn't have hoop." He said. "Including
this one. So if you're interested I'll teach you. And I even promise not to foul you." He said, which was how Vasil had
gotten the skinned knee.
"Yeah?" She forgot the slides as she turned around to smile at him. Feeling a bit like a child again for a moment. "Its
been a very long time since I've played a game that didn't have a board under it." she admitted. "I think I would like
that."
"Trust me, there is no board under this one." He said with a chuckle. In fact the 'court' wasn't even paved, just a
beaten down patch of dirt, which was fine. It worked for the purpose at hand. "I'll go get a ball, you meet me out there
when you've got a minute, cool?"
Her eyebrows went up in surprise at the immediate challenge. And the knee jerk reaction was to remind him that she
was still working. And would be for most of the night. Again.
The same way she did every night.
Her face changed and her lips shifted into a sideways smile that grew into a grin. Mimicking both his word and the
accent, she agreed:
"Cool."
He chuckled at her imitation of his. "Okay then." He said. "Course I'll need some kick ass English phrases to throw back
at you, but you can tell them to me later."
He knew she had 'work,' but it wasn't absolutely necessary to go through the boxes and slides right now, not like she
was operating or anything. And he was bored. God he was bored. Just wandering around here, especially since the
sane people were asleep, save them. And she looked like she could use something away from work also.
"I'll go track down a ball, see you then."
"Right then." She agreed with a laugh of her own as he headed back out. She looked down at the box she'd only
gotten a few slides through. Realizing that she really should be feeling guilty about leaving it behind instead of as
cheerful about the desertion as she was. With a shake of her head at herself she stacked the slides she'd already
pulled to one side and set the box next to them.
Suzette came in then, stifling a yawn and slumped down at the back desk.
"You should get some sleep." Andi told her with a smile and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead before heading out
the door. Suzette managed a muffled sound. And that was about right. Andi didn't feel like hearing Suzette's opinion
just yet. She'd get it soon enough anyway.
She finished a few rounds and then, dressed in a tank top and shorts, hair still in its usual pony tail, she walked onto
the basketball court.
Hector had 'borrowed' the ball from Sam's tent of all places. But the director was nicely sleeping soundly, so Hector
didn't think he'd REALLY mind! So he was practicing his jump shot, some he made, some he missed. But it passed the
time in any case.
He turned at one point after catching a rebound and saw her there. "Hey." He said and tossed her the ball.
She caught it in her long hands easily as she joined him. Remembering the feel of that satisfying smack against her
palms. This was a long way from university and she was sure she was out of practice. But you didn't go through life as
tall as she was and not have everyone that wanted to assume you know how to play this sport. Finally, in defense,
she'd learned. Curious she bounced the ball a couple of times to get a feel for it. She'd watched him take a few shots.
And he certainly had height in his favor.
"So," She asked, face innocent, dark eyes dancing. "The goal is to get this ball through that shoot?"
He laughed. "Yeah, that's the point. And to get by me." He said. Oh he'd done his share of asking about her in a nice
subtle way. But he'd let her think she was playing him over on this subject. Could be fun actually.
"Get by me, make a basket, catch the rebound....that's when it comes off the hoop or the backboard...which is that
thing behind the hoop..." he said, playing along, grinning, as he 'explained' the game to her.
"Get by you? Without you 'fouling' me and scraping up my knees?" She shifted the ball from hand to hand absently.
"Couldn't I just ask you politely to let me by? You know 'say, old chap, wouldn't happen to mind shifting it a bit, yeah?'"
The last sentence was done in heavy 'proper' English and she made her move as she finished it.
He had height on her easily. And reflexes too. As one would hope given the line of work he was in. But she thought she
might have just a tad more dexterity if based on body mass only. And the fact that he, hopefully, wasn't willing to body
check her, which would, no doubt, result in a bit of pain for her. She wasn't sure it was an even balance. Especially
when you threw in the fact that she hadn't played since her university days. But, win or lose, it was going to be an
enjoyable challenge because she didn't expect him to simply let her walk over him.
"Hmm...you could try, but it won't work very well." Hector said. "Haven't you heard from around this camp? We
Americans are a rude, foul mouthed bunch with no civilized manners among us at all." He chuckled. "Come on, let's
see what you've got."
"Right." She agreed blithely. Settling into an easy, controlled dribble of the ball and shifting a shoulder to block. "But
you truly are going to learn some of those pithy 'English' terms. I should apologize in advance." Halfway through the
last word, she pivoted on her heel and made her move.
It would turn out that she lied. She could actually swear in several different languages.
He'd heard she'd played, but also heard she was bad, and now realized that assessment probably came from her own
self effacing self as she got around him. "Looks like someone's trying to start something." He chuckled, going around
her to the basket. "Looks like I might finally have a challenge."
"Is that talking 'smack'?" She asked innocently, ball shifting from hand to hand as it bounced and she seemed to be
not watching him directly, moving at an angle to his own movements. Grinning. Her use of the word 'smack' indicated
she knew its proper placement in a sentence but was vague on the actual meaning. "Someone told me you Yanks like
to 'talk smack'." She made a sudden feint to his left and then turned practically into him and past by the narrowest
margin on a roll. Dodging and distraction, she'd already decided, were probably her only means of holding her own
against him. She shot the ball and prayed to the god of beginner's luck.
God chose to ignore the sacrilege and the ball dropped through the hoop.
"It sounds painful." She continued her previous line of reasoning as if she hadn't noticed.
He whistled as the ball went through the hoop and caught it before it bounced on the ground. "Nah, that's not talking
smack." He said with a chuckle. "Yanks? God I love you foreigners. Where I come from, Yankees are people above the
Mason-Dixon line, which ain't anywhere near me." He said, affecting an even thicker drawl to mirror her 'proper British
accent' from earlier. "My grand pappy would near be turning in his grave he ever heard someone say that." He
chuckled and dribbled the ball.
"Smack is a whole other animal." He said, returning to his normal voice. "Like, okay, you made a basket. I also gave
you the ball. Taking the ball from me is completely different."
"Sounds like a challenge." Andi agreed, flexing her slim fingers. She'd broken one once in a game before and picked
up the unconscious habit in the process. Feeling a bit looser, she moved between him and the basket, movements
lazy. Met his dark eyes with her own as she shifted into guard position. If he plowed her it was all over, of course. She
had nothing even resembling bulk to match his muscle with. She lifted her chin and her eyes glinted.
"So calling you 'Yank' - that was 'smack talk'?" She asked cheerfully.
"Oh yeah." He said, moving around her and headed to the basket. "Hmm..here's a quote I heard. In all the four corners
of the earth one of these three names is given to him who steals from his neighbor: brigand, robber or Englishman."
He said with a grin. "So you mistaking me for a Yank is me mistaking you for a pure blood English person."
He made his way around her, managing to just shove her a little bit, not enough to knock her down, and looped the
ball up.
She caught the ball as it came through the basket and immediately sent it up again. Cheating. Kind of. She intended to
cheat quite a bit in fact.
"But I am a 'full blood English person.'" she teased.
"Uh oh..." He teased. "Well, that's no good. See, my mom's mom's dad came straight over from Ireland." He shook his
head ruefully. "And we were getting along so great until you had to go starve my ancestors. Nice shot by the way." He
took the ball and dribbled it around a bit to avoid her. "So where'd you learn to play, anyway?"
She moved with him. Staying close now that they were 'playing seriously' as her Da would call it. Dark eyes didn't watch
his hands, instead watching where the muscles that moved his arms were for the first telltale twitch.
"Your other ancestors did shoot at us first." She corrected. "Twice. Getting all snippy about not having 'independence
and whatnot'." He shifted and she slid with him, hand out and fingers long enough to tip the ball before his own long
fingers made the recovery and kept possession. She stifled the laugh that would lose her any chance at staying even.
"University." She supplied, pivoting on a heel to crowd him. "Everyone thought someone as tall as me must be
smashing at the game." She dodged a jostle and he cut around with her making a final reach to tip the ball. "They were
wrong." She watched the ball and caught it when it came down. "But it was the first time being tall was seen as a good
thing." She shot him a smile and shifted away, dribbling the ball protectively. "Other than being sent out in front of my
friends in the grasslands on the theory that the lions would see me first." she joked, shifting into and then away from
him. "What about you?" She asked and left it entirely open as to which part, being sent out as lion bait included, she
was referring to. Just to see what he'd answer.
"Everyone on my block played basketball. Pick up games at the town park, or some kid's driveway." He said, making
another grab for the ball. "As I grew up and taller, all that changed was I was moved up on the picking list, soon I was
picked second, after Tommy Matherson who's nearly seven feet." He chuckled and got the ball away from her and
backed up.
"Nice friends, " he commented. "I don't have to worry much, the lions tend to run away at the sound of heavy infantry,
you like, like tanks and humvees."
"We were very wily children.” She answered, moving to take up a position between him and a good shot at the basket.
"And we didn't have infantry unless you counted Moshi's dog. Who wouldn't go first, I might add." She grinned at the
memory and shifted just as he did, using muscle play to tip her off. "Do you still play? When you go back home?"
"Oh yeah, all us guys get together whenever we're in the same area and do pick up games of basketball and touch
football." Which always ended up being a little more than merely touch football, without the luxury of pads! He realized
she wasn't watching his hands, but his arms and shifted his body weight so everything went to the right, then cut to the
left and shot at the basket, missing and rebounding off the backboard.
Andi backpedaled to catch the ball and then shot it from there. Because it was safer than getting in range of Hector's
reflexes.
"What do they do?" She asked, moving back in. "Giant Tom and the others?"
"Tom teaches high school, Jerry manages a gas station, Chris is a landscaper, Michael is a real estate agent and
Wally is a tax auditor." He said, getting the ball off the rebound. "So what made you decide to do the Red Cross thing?"
She'd rather hear about his world. But he'd traded fair.
"It was big enough." She answered, moving closer to cover him again. "It was in the places I wanted to be and working
under that name lets me go where some of the other groups can't." It came out sounding clinical and logical. As if her
heart wasn't involved in the decision. Which it hadn't been. "Your turn. Tell me something?" She mirrored one of his
sudden shifts and managed to knock the ball loose. Which resulted in a scuffle for it. Which she lost when she started
laughing, one arm still wound through his.
Hector laughed as her arm was still wound in his, he just took her to the basket along with himself and the ball, making
it since she was more or less distracted in trying to get her arm out of his, if she was in fact trying all that hard.
"I don't know. What do you want me to tell you?" He asked, catching the ball with his palm and dribbling it. "How about
a water break?" It was so dry here, as compared to his hometown, that he knew frequent water breaks were necessary
to keep him on the right side of the infirmary.