>>65 Who hid Kilo's medication? -- Casualties were not to be typically expected from a board meeting under most, if not all circumstances – but in this company, the Medic came to expect the unexpected – like the extensive dental lacerations inflicted upon the demolition's penile and scrotal skin, for example. The engineer carefully stole longer and longer glances away from the road in order to appreciate the soldier's clumsily draped body as he slept in the passenger seat, slightly turned away, his head drooping towards the window, and his otherwise white shirt still lightly stained with grease and barbeque sauce. He was completely limp – even when relaxed his solid frame and musculature was very apparent in it's various bulging forms gracefully rising and falling along his limbs in the sinking twilight. The engineer sighed tiredly and checked his rear-view mirror for what felt like the hundredth time since he peeled out a parking lot a few hours ago. If they hadn't been kicked out of that truck stop the drive would have been far less nerve-wracking. But that damn yankee son of a bitch had to go and get into it with the locals over the usual thing. If only they hadn't been seated next to some folks that just happened to offhandedly mention the war in Korea in their own private discussion. Somehow the topic flew from the conflict in Korea – to the soldier's opinion that manifest destiny was still in full affect (except for that 'red commie planet', Mars) – then finally to his supposition that if anyone didn't agree, they were an idiot and that they hated America. Lucky for ol' rocket boy the engineer knew when to quit, and so they managed to pay their bill and get the hell out of there with little more than a few bruises, well before the police could have shown up. The soldier always got worked up over politics – especially those pertaining to war. He became furious when the engineer yanked him out before he could get his point across. The engineer demanded to know what his point was exactly, and the soldier replied that winning the quick and easy way was no real show of a man's metal. He should have known that a civilian 'wrench jockey' wouldn't understand. The engineer didn't think that was a fair assumption, and went on to asked that 'crazy son of a bitch' needed to defeat a handful of unarmed civilians. The soldier insisted that they could hardly be called civilians with those kinds of 'pinko philosophies'. Then the engineer finally told the soldier that “America is a free country and folks are allowed to say whatever the hell they want here, ya dummy! You can't just go around giving people a hard time just because they ain't in absolute agreement with ya! That's what FASCISTS do! We have that second amendment cuz people can't get nothin done fer shit if they're fightin' with each other over petty differences all the damn time!†The soldier said nothing for nearly a minute. The engineer immediately felt awful for defeating him so utterly, but when he turned his head to apologize, he found that the soldier had been asleep and put his attention back to driving in a huff. Whether the soldier wanted to spend the rest of his life with the engineer or not, there probably wasn't any possibility of the soldier ever leading a civilian life that didn't involve him ending up in jail – or the psych ward at some veteran's hospital if he was lucky. But the engineer entertained the idea every now and again. Even toward the end of that most recent tangent, he nurtured a quiet pride in being on the soldier's short list of allies. He yawned, stretched out his right arm and rested it along the rear dash. After a few minutes of psyching himself up, the engineer very carefully brushed the soldier's thick neck with the backs of his fingers. The tightly trimmed hairs leading up the soldier's neck enticed the engineer's fingers to unfold and stroke them softly. “Get that bowie knife outta my leg...†The soldier snored and stirred. He sloppily shifted his weight toward the engineer in the cramped cab of that old pick-up, rolling to one side and letting his head come to rest on the engineer's shoulder, trapping his right arm. As he nestled into his new position, one of his hands made it's way through the side opening of the engineer's overalls. He drifted back into that dream with nearly his whole arm cradled in the front flap and wrapped around the smaller man's waist. He was just as heavy as ever, and the sudden envelopment in the warmth of his body was fairly intense; but it was the brush of the soldier's hand across the thin fabric covering the engineer's vulnerable stomach that caused him to shudder in surprise. That arm felt huge across his body – and the hand cupped around his hip issued a sensation of The engineer carefully restrained himself with a nervous smile, trying not to rouse the soldier from this awkward position for fear of his own safety. “...zzz...thanks, engie...†the soldier's voice was little more than a murmur this time, but it was said right into the engineer's ear. The tickling little fact that the soldier still didn't consider his relationship with the engineer as anything more than professional served to warm his heart in a way that only the soldier's brand of depraved innocence could.