social link GO?!!!

[aphelionix]

Wallabin's frankly boring visits were starting to become commonplace at the Gladsheim base; to the point where even Locke was getting dirty looks from the fellow soldiers. When he slanted his glance their way, they usually shut up their gossiping and returned to what they were doing, though. One would think they'd be used to it by now, but they didn't cease to find amusement in Locke running the duo around. (They always silenced themselves when Gearhorn turned up, though.)

Luckily for Weiler and Locke, they were allowed a break from Wallabin while he met with Gearhorn and several other officers. (More demands to be met, more money to be donated and the like, Locke was sure.) There weren't many safe places to talk on base, unfortunately. He didn't even trust his own quarters.

There was only one place that he knew would be safe, due to the sheer loud volume of it; the cantina. It was less than glamorous, and the drinks they had to offer were definitely not as exquisite as the bar they had gone to. The company even less so. It was with a little reluctance that Locke suggested it.

"We could kill some time at the cantina," he had said, "but I don't think you'll like it."

Comments

[aphelionix]

It was a rather silly sight, the two of them looking surprised at each other.

"What?"

[tactician]

Weiler leaned over the table, beckoning Locke closer. When the other man came forward, he cupped a hand over his mouth and spoke into his ear. "I was of the opinion that you thought you were working with a crazy man."

[aphelionix]

Locke smiled, leaning his own mouth to Weiler's ear. (It probably looked like some kind of lovers' sweet talk to onlookers- this was putting his reputation at stake.) "You have to be to work where we do, don't you think?"

[tactician]

"It is possible that you are just incredibly masochistic," Weiler replied, pulling back and entirely failing to whisper that one.

[aphelionix]

That got Weiler a flick on the nose himself.

"Only if you're into that."

[tactician]

Wrinkling his nose, Weiler pulled himself out of range, cleverer this time than the last. "It has nothing to do with me whether or not you enjoy being spanked now and then."

[aphelionix]

"It does if you enjoy doing the spanking."

[tactician]

There was a momentary pause as Weiler actually looked thoughtful at that. "That, also, depends on how nicely you ask."

[aphelionix]

Locke chuckled. "What's that phrase? Pretty please, with some kind of fruit on top?"

[tactician]

"Don't worry about that; you probably lost that ages ago," Weiler answered, smiling a lopsided smile. He followed it up with a quick quip: "But since you asked so nicely, just remind me if we ever get to the bedroom."

Thankfully, it seemed as though even their most antagonistic adversaries had stopped paying attention to their private conversation, caught up amidst themselves with some sort of debate about certain firearms having advantages over others - almost laughably stereotypical soldier fare. The rest of the canteen had also returned to their everyday conversations, attention at short enough supply that no one really bothered to waste it on a politician's assistant and a general's second-in-command seemingly flirting in the corner.

Otherwise, Locke's reputation might have suffered a little for that 'if.'

[aphelionix]

"Sheesh. At this rate I won't remember all the things I need to remind you I asked nicely for."

Just when things were getting rather comfortable - so Locke thought anyway - a beep came from his pocket. He pulled out the communicator, turning it front-side up. A message from Gearhorn popped up: Meeting room. Five minutes.

"Ah, it seems they're about done with their meeting. Shall we?"

[tactician]

Weiler pushed himself up with a nod.

"Can't keep a lady waiting," he agreed, standing and putting the crook of his arm out for Locke, the way a gentleman might for a lady to take.

[aphelionix]

Locke raised an eyebrow at the arm extended to him. He ignored it and put his arm around Weiler's shoulders instead.

"You're rather strange, Milo," he said, but not without a note of amusement.

[tactician]

"You're wrinkling my suit," Weiler complained with a sigh, though he didn't exactly step out of Locke's embrace, doing nothing more to fix his situation than to tighten his tie and pull it back to the center. "And not even in the fun way."

The pair attracted much less attention exiting the canteen than they did entering it - perhaps because a good majority of its patrons knew better, this time around. They made it to the door and then the hallway with no hitch whatsoever, and the quietness of the hall that greeted them once the entrance slid air-tight was almost jarring compared to the loud hum of yelling and laughing they had just left.

Weiler stepped out of the circle of Locke's arm. "But you know," he said suddenly but easily, as if continuing off a conversation they had never left, "I'm a big kid and all. You should protect your reputation before you try to protect me."

Locke could continue the mission without one, but not without the other.

[aphelionix]

"I'll be fine," he assured, brushing out a wrinkle he left on Weiler's shoulder before continuing on. Locke smirked down at him. "You've built yours up, though. Now when they see you walking around, they'll think twice before badmouthing the guy who almost fired someone's bits off."

He almost gave Weiler a proud ruffle of the hair, but thought back to the time he barely smacked the guy's head and got an earful of complaints for an hour, thinking better of it. Instead, Locke patted just below the back of his neck, where the collar was pressed so straight and firm that there was no way a little pat would wrinkle it.

[tactician]

"You treat all your pretend lovers like dogs?" Weiler asked lightly, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

[aphelionix]

"Like princesses," he corrected. "Wouldn't know, though. I've never had the situation shoved on me like this."

[tactician]

"You're the go-getter usually, then." Weiler paused, thoughtful. "I could imagine that. Haven't seen it first-hand, though."

[aphelionix]

"I mean you're the first pretend lover I've ever had, actually."

[tactician]

Weiler made an uninformative noise of acknowledgement, hands slipping into his trouser pockets again, but his smirk was sly. Locke might not have had much opportunity for this type of play in his particular line of spy work, but Weiler was well-accustomed to acting out affections and pulling certain strings behind closed doors. It wasn't exactly something to be proud of, despite the results it netted, but it did come in handy once in a while - like now, for example, when meeting up with Gearhorn's second-in-command would have been otherwise suspicious except in this context.

"Well, there's not much to it," he said with a shrug. "Be a gentleman, and then paste someone else's face onto theirs if you really have to do something you don't enjoy. It's easy - you'll get the hang of it, and you're doing fine so far."

[aphelionix]

Locke laughed heartily at the advice.

"Oh, I know that," he said. "You're only my first pretend lover, after all." In his own position, what happened behind closed doors was out of stress relief rather than sly persuasions. The men and women alike had a lot of aggression to get out.

[tactician]

"That's what I mean, Nick," Weiler responded, not quite laughing but amused just the same. "It isn't much different even if your heart isn't actually in it."

[aphelionix]

"How often is your heart in it, exactly?" he asked, stopping at the edge of the meeting room door, back in his military poise.

[tactician]

Weiler pulled out the last few kinks in his cuffs and vest until everything looked immaculate.

"You want a percentage?"

[aphelionix]

"You've worked out a percentage?" Locke raised a brow.