ACTION TIME

[aphelionix]

The two days had come and gone since Locke stayed over at Weiler's. He was tipsy when Weiler had called that night and made their two day check-in rule - not that he forgot, but he couldn't stop the nagging feeling that something was off when he went to bed that night.

On the morning of the third day, he remembered.

The rule was to get out. He tried calling Weiler once, in case he had forgotten his own rule, but Locke was sure by now that it wasn't like him. It was all the sign he needed when the call went straight to voice mail. He headed right out the door of his room, only gathering his pistol and communicator. Through the bustling of the soldiers' morning routines, he managed to keep himself fairly blended in. No one seemed to be looking on him any differently. Locke was on the last stretch of the emergency escape route of Gladsheim's base - for Circle members, that was - when someone called his name.

His real name.

Comments

[aphelionix]

Locke's arms wound carefully around Weiler's back, mindful of his injury. The change of pace was nice, the captain easily falling into the laziness of it. It was different, not having to worry about anyone else not seeing them, and quite relieving, in fact. His hands traced down Weiler's sides, stopping at his hips. Just when he was thinking he really liked the sound of Weiler saying 'Captain' like that, a much less pleasant sound filled his ears.

If only McGraw could see the twitch of his eye. So much for minimal interjections.

Locke let out an exasperated exhale. "Yes, that's fine, McGraw."

[tactician]

"Take a break for the next half an hour, Herr McGraw," Weiler announced, tilting his head up to address the AI. "For a job well done."

"AS YOU WISH, BUT FOR FUTURE REFERENCE, ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE DOES NOT REQUIRE DOWNTIME," said McGraw informatively, followed by blessed silence.

Weiler looked back down, smirking. "My mistake," he shrugged to Locke.

[aphelionix]

Locke shook his head, but he seemed at least a little amused, one corner of his mouth quirked. "I do hope that wasn't planned."

[tactician]

Weiler slid his elbows past the back of the chair, locking his fingers behind it. "Do you think I'd plan something like that?" he challenged.

[aphelionix]

Idle hands smoothed back up Weiler's sides, an easy smile on his face.

"I doubt it."

[tactician]

Weiler grinned back. "Well, we have half an hour, Captain. What do you think we should do with that time?"

[aphelionix]

Locke leaned up, brushing his mouth between Weiler's neck and jaw, just below the ear. "I was rather enjoying what we were up to before."

[tactician]

Humming quietly, Weiler hardly needed to asked twice. He picked up right where he left off, tilting Locke's face up by running his thumbs up and back from the man's temples. This was as good a method as any to break in a ship, he gathered, and they might as well take advantage of the half hour of privacy they had been granted. (What a good way to wake up.)

Weiler was clearly used to people who weren't afraid of pushing back - he crowded Locke back against the seat, pressed up against his chest and nudged ever closer despite the slow pace of the kiss, perhaps unsurprising giving his personality, but something Locke would have to accustom himself to nonetheless.

[aphelionix]

There was definitely a grin pressed against Weiler's lips, Locke taking well to the pace he had set. He liked that Weiler wasn't shy with what he wanted - likely because he himself tended not to be nearly as expressive. Locke, though more of the leader of the two, easily followed into the other man's lead. He parted his mouth, his tongue dotting against Weiler's lower lip. The taste and smell of black coffee was strong on both their mouths, but he wasn't particularly bothered by it. (Two good ways to wake up indeed.)

[tactician]

Opening his mouth without hesitation, Weiler tilted his face into it with a soft huff, slipping his tongue past the seam of Locke's mouth with no reservation. The open mouthed rendition of the kiss was significantly less laid back, but the half hour limit Weiler had imposed wouldn't allow them much further past that unless one of them picked up the pace. However, Weiler seemed perfectly content to stay as they were, considering they were a little too early along to really consider much else. (Maybe sometime later.)

Much too soon, a voice prompted, "HALF AN HOUR HAS PASSED, CAPTAIN LOCKE."

Weiler didn't bother pulling away.

[aphelionix]

It wasn't until three minutes after the announcement that Locke pulled back, pleasantly dazed. "Did you hear something?"

[tactician]

"A-HEM," McGraw interrupted awkwardly.

"No," Weiler answered, licking his lips and leaning back with his hands on Locke's knees to prop himself up.

"I WOULD NOT INTERRUPT, BUT YOU EXPLICITLY TOLD ME TO RETURN AFTER HALF AN HOUR, SIR," McGraw protested, sounding a little harried and exasperated itself. If it were a real person, it would have been torn between wringing its hands or burying its face in its palms at this point. "HONESTLY, SIR."

With a sigh, Weiler pulled himself to his feet and straightened the wrinkles out of his shirt in one smooth motion, as if being interrupted in this way was a common occurrence. He plopped back down in his own seat and waved a hand at the dashboard. "All right, all right, Herr McGraw, don't worry about it. How many hours left until we hit Erclesse?"

[aphelionix]

It was ironic, treating interruptions as one usually did now - pulling away and addressing the interruption - rather than taking it as a cue to be all over each other. Locke smiled to himself at the thought. He liked it better this way.

"ONE HOUR AND FORTY-FIVE MINUTES," McGraw answered proudly, no doubt programmed to be pleased when it wasn't ignored. A screen popped up across the window, showing their progress on a map. A line connected Boriniat to Erclesse, a blinking green dot showing their current location between the two.

"Making good progress," Locke said with a nod, also standing. "I'm going to eat before landing. Do you want anything, Heine?"

[tactician]

"You can cook?"

[aphelionix]

"WHO IS 'HEINE'?"

"Basic things," Locke answered.

[tactician]

Weiler looked perplexed. "Who told you that-"

His head swivelled back. That hadn't even registered.. "What did you just call me?"

[aphelionix]

Locke stared at him blankly.

"Heine."

[tactician]

Weiler stared blankly back.

Then his look turned decidedly sly. "Are we on first name basis now, Cupid?"

[aphelionix]

"We're certainly past last names," he mused (though still not entirely unruffled by the use of his own first name). "What about middles?"

[tactician]

"No one calls me by my middle name. That would be an unfair trade," Weiler protested. Then, thoughtfully he asked, "How far, exactly, are we past surnames according to your estimation?"

[aphelionix]

"JUDGING BY MY OBSERVATIONS, I WOULD ESTIMATE-"

"Not you, McGraw," Locke sighed. "I'm not actually sure how you estimate that, though."

[tactician]

Weiler smiled at the answer. "Only my family calls me 'Heine'."

[aphelionix]

"Ah." Locke thought for a moment. "Only my mother calls me Cu... my first name," he countered. "Though the rest call me 'Rhys'."

[tactician]

"What do you want me to call you?" Weiler asked, ever the politician. He was very good at forcing others to say the words for him, making his intention shrouded but clear at the same time. Obviously, working for over ten years in the field hadn't gone without its repercussions. Even now, he was treading very diplomatically, which wasn't necessarily how the opposite party might have preferred for him to handle the issue at hand, though it was really the only way he knew how to.

"'CAPTAIN LOCKE' IS HIS STATED PREFERRED ADDRESS," McGraw supplied.

[aphelionix]

Locke clasped his hands behind his back, back straight, steadying Weiler with a passive look. He might've even had a playful smile.

"What do you want me to call you?"

"'WEILER' IS HIS STATED PREFERRED-"

"I'm currently speaking to Weiler, McGraw."

"OH." A pause. "CARRY ON."