After a good year and a half of building contacts and taking small jobs to make money, finally the Chief and his little band of rag-tag mercenaries had managed to buy themselves a ship. Not just any ship - a space ship, a cargo freighter with speed and maneuverability - extending their range out beyond the planet that had proved to be a sanctuary for most of them. With wider range came better paying jobs, but there were still some jobs that were taken more for the need that they be done than for the payment offered. Like bandits preying on the trade lines between towns on a poorer planet; the pay wasn't great, but revolvers and horses didn't stand a chance against trained soldiers fully equipped and out for a little rough justice.
The party to which they had been invited to celebrate their success was as rustic as the town they had landed by, but the welcome was warm and open. As the sun set, bonfires lit up the open spaces between the buildings, instruments were brought out for dancing and singing, and the wine began to flow. It was an old-fashioned shindig, and for once, the mercs stayed for it at the Chief's insistence. It was about time they enjoyed themselves and relaxed for once.
"Great. A party. How quaint," John grumbled, under his breath as he and Ailis arrived to find a celebration of some sort going on in their honor. Relaxing was apparently not one of John's strong points, nor was socializing or partying with strangers. He'd have much preferred a private party that only included himself and Ailis. Maybe the rest of the team if he was feeling in a particularly good mood.
"Come on, Grumpy!" Jake scolded, slapping John on the back good-naturedly. "It won't kill you to have fun for once." And off he went, dragging a giggling Leia along with him.
Not only were they being forced to relax, but the Chief had also disarmed them - all but their smallest weapons - and removed their body armor. Ailis laughed at John's quiet grumble. "He's right, you know," she pointed out, nudging him in the side. "Everyone needs to relax now and then. Even Sam's managing it, look." She nodded over to where the company were dancing, to where Sam and Rory were being whirled through the simple steps together.
"If I wanted to relax, I'd take a nap," John grumbled. Or get drunk, though the latter was almost impossible these days. He actually envied those who could loosen up that way. Those days had ended when his sister had shot him full of Martian Chromosome 24. Still, his expression softened at the sight of said sister dancing with a man she'd confessed to having feelings for. She, at least, deserved to be happy, and so, John thought, did Ailis. "You're not gonna make me dance, are you?" he asked, softening a little, but eying her sharply.
His blonde companion looked up at him in amusement. "Would I do a thing like that?" It wasn't much of an answer. This was a woman who had guilted him into coming out with her the last time they had been on Rhy'Din and, yes, forced him to dance with her or watch her being danced with by any man on the dance floor who liked the look of her. It had been fun, but a little ....tense. She laughed, wrapping her hand into his lapel. "C'mon, Grimm, I'm hungry."
The name fit anyway, and though his sister shared it, she looked anything but Grimm. "Yes, dear," he quipped, not entirely seriously as he got dragged along. Despite Martian Chromosome 24, he still needed to eat. "I get that they're happy we've helped them, but I can't help but feeling like we're being fattened up for the kill," John remarked, lowering his voice for her ears only. Okay, so he was a little paranoid. Wouldn't you be if you'd been through half what he'd been through"
She eyed him from beneath a raised brow, her lips quirked in a laughing grin as they reached the tables that were groaning beneath the food laid out there. "They don't have much to give us by way of money," she explained quietly. "But they're proud, too proud to let us go without giving us something. So they're giving us this - a night to enjoy, to eat well and drink and dance, and be at peace for once. We'll not be sleeping unguarded tonight, love."
"No, I suppose we did a good thing, huh?" he mused aloud, quite the admission for one such as him. He was a soldier, but he hadn't always been a soldier. There was another side of him that he rarely showed to anyone, save Sam and Ailis. "I still get the feeling this was a test of some sort. Your father was testing us. Seeing how we work together, whether we can get along." In the end, they had come together as a group, even though it was no secret that the effervescent Jake Jensen continually grated on John's nerves.
She smiled, wrapping an arm about his back to squeeze affectionately before handing him a plate loaded down with good, freshly prepared food. "We did a good thing," she assured him, taking up her own plate. "And the Chief's always testing us." Always "The Chief". She never referred to their temperamental leader as "father". Heading away from the table, she thumped down comfortably beside one of the big bonfires, tearing into a hunk of cold pork with a ravenous groan. "Someone has to come up with a way to make rations taste like real food."
The hug did its part to settle his mood, at least for now. So long as they were left alone to relax in their own way and not pestered to dance or partake in any of the festivities, he was content enough to be there, if only for her sake. "Good luck with that," he remarked as he followed her to claim a spot fireside, the heaping plate of foodstuffs in his hands. He couldn't hide the grumble from his stomach that gave away the fact that his nose, at least, was appreciating the feast. With any luck, soon it would be his mouth.
"John, please, just try to switch off the soldier senses for a couple of hours?" she asked him warmly, taking a long drink from the mug that was set down beside her. "We've earned a rest, enjoy it if you can." Leaning closer, she grinned at him. "If you manage to relax a little, I might not make you say it before I take my clothes off."
"It?" he asked, arching his brows at her. "Why would I say It?" he continued, not quite catching her drift. He picked up what looked like a chicken leg - drumstick to be exact - and looked it over carefully before taking a bite out of the meat. He chewed a moment, nodding in appreciation. "Beats the hell out of rations," he admitted grudgingly. It was hard to take the soldier out of the man. Years of training had made him that way and it was hard to switch that part of him off, but he was trying.
"Because it's been a few days since you did, and I like to hear it," she smiled gently, understanding that I love you was difficult for him to say. But he needed to remember that she needed to hear it. She told him her heart every day, before every mission, after every mission, sometimes even in her sleep, paranoid that they might somehow be parted without him knowing how she felt. His suspicion of the food, however, made her laugh. "I doubt they hired us just to poison us with good, home cooking."
"Oh," he mumbled with a frown, realizing at last what she'd meant by that. Well, he sure as hell wasn't going to say it here, but maybe later, when they were alone. "Sorry, Ai," he mumbled quietly, once again for her ears alone. He'd never heard the end of it if any of the team members overheard him apologizing or God forbid telling her he loved her, though he wasn't sure why. It was clear to anyone who saw them together that they were as thick as thieves, and it wasn't just friendship between them. "They look pretty happy, don't they?" he asked, nodding a head over at his sister and her brother.
The party to which they had been invited to celebrate their success was as rustic as the town they had landed by, but the welcome was warm and open. As the sun set, bonfires lit up the open spaces between the buildings, instruments were brought out for dancing and singing, and the wine began to flow. It was an old-fashioned shindig, and for once, the mercs stayed for it at the Chief's insistence. It was about time they enjoyed themselves and relaxed for once.
"Great. A party. How quaint," John grumbled, under his breath as he and Ailis arrived to find a celebration of some sort going on in their honor. Relaxing was apparently not one of John's strong points, nor was socializing or partying with strangers. He'd have much preferred a private party that only included himself and Ailis. Maybe the rest of the team if he was feeling in a particularly good mood.
"Come on, Grumpy!" Jake scolded, slapping John on the back good-naturedly. "It won't kill you to have fun for once." And off he went, dragging a giggling Leia along with him.
Not only were they being forced to relax, but the Chief had also disarmed them - all but their smallest weapons - and removed their body armor. Ailis laughed at John's quiet grumble. "He's right, you know," she pointed out, nudging him in the side. "Everyone needs to relax now and then. Even Sam's managing it, look." She nodded over to where the company were dancing, to where Sam and Rory were being whirled through the simple steps together.
"If I wanted to relax, I'd take a nap," John grumbled. Or get drunk, though the latter was almost impossible these days. He actually envied those who could loosen up that way. Those days had ended when his sister had shot him full of Martian Chromosome 24. Still, his expression softened at the sight of said sister dancing with a man she'd confessed to having feelings for. She, at least, deserved to be happy, and so, John thought, did Ailis. "You're not gonna make me dance, are you?" he asked, softening a little, but eying her sharply.
His blonde companion looked up at him in amusement. "Would I do a thing like that?" It wasn't much of an answer. This was a woman who had guilted him into coming out with her the last time they had been on Rhy'Din and, yes, forced him to dance with her or watch her being danced with by any man on the dance floor who liked the look of her. It had been fun, but a little ....tense. She laughed, wrapping her hand into his lapel. "C'mon, Grimm, I'm hungry."
The name fit anyway, and though his sister shared it, she looked anything but Grimm. "Yes, dear," he quipped, not entirely seriously as he got dragged along. Despite Martian Chromosome 24, he still needed to eat. "I get that they're happy we've helped them, but I can't help but feeling like we're being fattened up for the kill," John remarked, lowering his voice for her ears only. Okay, so he was a little paranoid. Wouldn't you be if you'd been through half what he'd been through"
She eyed him from beneath a raised brow, her lips quirked in a laughing grin as they reached the tables that were groaning beneath the food laid out there. "They don't have much to give us by way of money," she explained quietly. "But they're proud, too proud to let us go without giving us something. So they're giving us this - a night to enjoy, to eat well and drink and dance, and be at peace for once. We'll not be sleeping unguarded tonight, love."
"No, I suppose we did a good thing, huh?" he mused aloud, quite the admission for one such as him. He was a soldier, but he hadn't always been a soldier. There was another side of him that he rarely showed to anyone, save Sam and Ailis. "I still get the feeling this was a test of some sort. Your father was testing us. Seeing how we work together, whether we can get along." In the end, they had come together as a group, even though it was no secret that the effervescent Jake Jensen continually grated on John's nerves.
She smiled, wrapping an arm about his back to squeeze affectionately before handing him a plate loaded down with good, freshly prepared food. "We did a good thing," she assured him, taking up her own plate. "And the Chief's always testing us." Always "The Chief". She never referred to their temperamental leader as "father". Heading away from the table, she thumped down comfortably beside one of the big bonfires, tearing into a hunk of cold pork with a ravenous groan. "Someone has to come up with a way to make rations taste like real food."
The hug did its part to settle his mood, at least for now. So long as they were left alone to relax in their own way and not pestered to dance or partake in any of the festivities, he was content enough to be there, if only for her sake. "Good luck with that," he remarked as he followed her to claim a spot fireside, the heaping plate of foodstuffs in his hands. He couldn't hide the grumble from his stomach that gave away the fact that his nose, at least, was appreciating the feast. With any luck, soon it would be his mouth.
"John, please, just try to switch off the soldier senses for a couple of hours?" she asked him warmly, taking a long drink from the mug that was set down beside her. "We've earned a rest, enjoy it if you can." Leaning closer, she grinned at him. "If you manage to relax a little, I might not make you say it before I take my clothes off."
"It?" he asked, arching his brows at her. "Why would I say It?" he continued, not quite catching her drift. He picked up what looked like a chicken leg - drumstick to be exact - and looked it over carefully before taking a bite out of the meat. He chewed a moment, nodding in appreciation. "Beats the hell out of rations," he admitted grudgingly. It was hard to take the soldier out of the man. Years of training had made him that way and it was hard to switch that part of him off, but he was trying.
"Because it's been a few days since you did, and I like to hear it," she smiled gently, understanding that I love you was difficult for him to say. But he needed to remember that she needed to hear it. She told him her heart every day, before every mission, after every mission, sometimes even in her sleep, paranoid that they might somehow be parted without him knowing how she felt. His suspicion of the food, however, made her laugh. "I doubt they hired us just to poison us with good, home cooking."
"Oh," he mumbled with a frown, realizing at last what she'd meant by that. Well, he sure as hell wasn't going to say it here, but maybe later, when they were alone. "Sorry, Ai," he mumbled quietly, once again for her ears alone. He'd never heard the end of it if any of the team members overheard him apologizing or God forbid telling her he loved her, though he wasn't sure why. It was clear to anyone who saw them together that they were as thick as thieves, and it wasn't just friendship between them. "They look pretty happy, don't they?" he asked, nodding a head over at his sister and her brother.