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They'll be at the POG camp, maybe in a day or two, and barring any more surprises they will make it to Baghdad within the specified time frame. It wouldn't be the first time that particular rug has been pulled from underneath his feet, but still the directives seem congruent with the tidbits of information he's been able to gather from the scuttlebutt and the ever-so-reliable BBC. If he could only be sure of the information they've been receiving -
Maybe he's been doing this wrong. It's almost routine, this dangerous line of thoughts he knows enough to put in the back of his mind but is never able to quench completely. Maybe he has been doing this all wrong. Maybe all he's managed, in the guise of protecting his men, is disobeying orders and alienating his platoon from the Command, therefore endangering his men and the overall operation altogether. They have been more than lucky so far. Even this mission they've just completed, it could've gone down to the Muwafaqiyah level of clusterfuck had he made a wrong call about the area being secure. Maybe next time they will be completely out of luck. Maybe -
Maybes will get Bravo 2 killed.
...
"Respectfully, sir, why exactly are you out here?"
Nate would rather not have this conversation, if it is at all avoidable. "I take it Gunny didn't fully explain."
"Oh, he explained, sir. It's just the finer details on why that I can't seem to be able to get my head wrapped around."
"Orders." The magic word again, but that's rarely worked with Brad, so it was an idiotic move even to try. Nate tries again, "We were ordered to ascertain the safety of the Company by securing this location."
Brad's not appeased, which is also expected. "On foot? By yourself?"
If Nate's going to have the exact same argument with Mike later, he might just as well rehearse. "We've already had optics and thermals on it. We've bombarded the area all day yesterday. There was no threat. The sector was clear. Our orders were to confirm that fact, and I deemed that it wouldn't require more than one personnel."
He's got to do this better with Mike, Nate thinks ruefully. Even to his own ears, it doesn't sound like he's about to convince anyone.
Maybe he's been doing this wrong. It's almost routine, this dangerous line of thoughts he knows enough to put in the back of his mind but is never able to quench completely. Maybe he has been doing this all wrong. Maybe all he's managed, in the guise of protecting his men, is disobeying orders and alienating his platoon from the Command, therefore endangering his men and the overall operation altogether. They have been more than lucky so far. Even this mission they've just completed, it could've gone down to the Muwafaqiyah level of clusterfuck had he made a wrong call about the area being secure. Maybe next time they will be completely out of luck. Maybe -
Maybes will get Bravo 2 killed.
...
"Respectfully, sir, why exactly are you out here?"
Nate would rather not have this conversation, if it is at all avoidable. "I take it Gunny didn't fully explain."
"Oh, he explained, sir. It's just the finer details on why that I can't seem to be able to get my head wrapped around."
"Orders." The magic word again, but that's rarely worked with Brad, so it was an idiotic move even to try. Nate tries again, "We were ordered to ascertain the safety of the Company by securing this location."
Brad's not appeased, which is also expected. "On foot? By yourself?"
If Nate's going to have the exact same argument with Mike later, he might just as well rehearse. "We've already had optics and thermals on it. We've bombarded the area all day yesterday. There was no threat. The sector was clear. Our orders were to confirm that fact, and I deemed that it wouldn't require more than one personnel."
He's got to do this better with Mike, Nate thinks ruefully. Even to his own ears, it doesn't sound like he's about to convince anyone.
Нейт-центрик, в Ираке, подразумевается Б/Н. PG
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Life in Abeyance by vegarin
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"And I'd like to get my security deposit back," Nate interrupts mildly.
"Aw, LT, so little trust." Now Stafford looks like a kicked puppy, or is doing a pretty decent impression of one. "Don't I always have your back? Why would you hurt me with so little faith?"
"I may have every faith in you, but the couch has yet to recover from your last visit."
Brad looks at the grey couch in question. It is indeed skewed sideways. "Exactly how many times has he come over, sir?" Brad demands.
Q-Tip puts an arm around Nate's shoulder and grins brightly at Brad. "Why, Sergeant, jealous that I got to have our LT all by myself?"
Nate explains with a wry smile, "He's stationed at the Washington Yard now." Which is practically within the walking distance from Nate's Georgetown campus. Brad feels Nate's pain. "And Bryan's now at Johns Hopkins."
...
"Interrogative, sir."
Nate had wished this was one of the moments when they could use silence instead of words, but no, obviously Brad wasn't going to have that. Nate needed this conversation to end and end quickly. "There's no problem, Brad."
"Of course, sir, I'm absolutely assured of it."
"Brad."
"Keep going, sir. If you keep repeating it to yourself, maybe the truth will finally prevail."
"Well, you never know, Sergeant. Maybe today will be the day."
"Aw, LT, so little trust." Now Stafford looks like a kicked puppy, or is doing a pretty decent impression of one. "Don't I always have your back? Why would you hurt me with so little faith?"
"I may have every faith in you, but the couch has yet to recover from your last visit."
Brad looks at the grey couch in question. It is indeed skewed sideways. "Exactly how many times has he come over, sir?" Brad demands.
Q-Tip puts an arm around Nate's shoulder and grins brightly at Brad. "Why, Sergeant, jealous that I got to have our LT all by myself?"
Nate explains with a wry smile, "He's stationed at the Washington Yard now." Which is practically within the walking distance from Nate's Georgetown campus. Brad feels Nate's pain. "And Bryan's now at Johns Hopkins."
...
"Interrogative, sir."
Nate had wished this was one of the moments when they could use silence instead of words, but no, obviously Brad wasn't going to have that. Nate needed this conversation to end and end quickly. "There's no problem, Brad."
"Of course, sir, I'm absolutely assured of it."
"Brad."
"Keep going, sir. If you keep repeating it to yourself, maybe the truth will finally prevail."
"Well, you never know, Sergeant. Maybe today will be the day."
Б/Н, постканон. В духе предыдущего фика можно было закончить на фразе «That evening, he packs up his things». Тогда был бы тоже angst и PG
а так романс с элементами мелодрамы, hurt/comfort(?) и ХЭ
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