NOVA
===============
29/02/2003
Panay, The Philippines
================

"Shields!"

The sound of my surname rings through my ears, whipping my head as I stride out of the barracks with Leo. Luckily for us, Tara and Rosa were both asleep; I don't think they saw us sneaking out.

They're still hidden under some covers, so I doubt anybody else will notice them after the little moment they shared.

North paces over with a serious look on his face, halting in front of us.

"Shields, I just wanted to apologise," he sighs, resting an aging hand down onto my shoulder, "bringing up that sketch out of the blue wasn't my greatest idea."

I raise my eyebrows, I wasn't expecting him to apologise at all. If anything, I put the blame onto myself for having that type of reaction.

"It's fine, there's nothing to apologise for," I force a smile as he pats my shoulder. "Although, it was eerily accurate. Who sketched it?" I ask.

"Ali," Leo grunts from behind me, "he's a damn good artist for a kid, 'can apparently draw any face from his memory."

"Really? That is impressive," I marvel. I would've thought that sketch of the psychopath was drawn by an older professional of many years, not by a teenager.

"Whilst I've got you both again, I wanted to talk about the transportation tomorrow. The flights back will be the same as the ones here. Eagles, Hawks and Owls together; Falcons and Crows separate. Shields, your group will be on the earlier flight, departure at 11am. Hendrix, we leave at 4pm."

We both tense up as reality sinks in.

After tonight, I won't see him again for God knows how long.

"Understood," I mumble before continuing, "what about the hostages?"

"They'll be split into two groups. Handed to the government officials once we touch down, go through the confidentiality agreements of our group." North explains, both of us nodding in unison.

"And the, well, bodies?" I speak quietly, glancing at my feet. It's definitely an uncomfortable topic.

"They'll be transported back with us, Molly has spent the past day organising the air trays. Once we touch down, they'll be moved to a mortuary fitting with their 'cause of death' location." He sighs.

The thought of potentially being on the same flight as our comrades corpses triggers a shiver, ricocheting down my system. I decide not to dig for any more details on that.

"And Abe?" Leo asks.

"Being handed over to the Filipino government tomorrow. Kingston's made an arrangement with them, he will always be on our radar. We ain't just leaving him in the dirt. If there's ever a chance to immigrate him to the US, we will take it. Not that it'd be a much better way of life, he'd have court cases up his ass."

I can't help but feel guilty. I'm sure Abe did some immoral things under the influence of his Father, but he did help save my life. Twice.

He helped to save a lot of our lives. Should he suffer anymore, or has he fully atoned?

"Also, what's all this fuckery I hear about everybody swigging some damn Jack Daniels later?" He narrows his eyes, diverting from the subject and snapping me from my thoughts.

I think he catches both of our nervous expressions since he erupts into laughter, definitely surprising us.

"Look at you both! I actually don't give a damn fuck, you all deserve it after this chaos. If anything, I envy the fact I can't join in!" He chuckles, very clearly in damn good spirits about to getting back to the US.

"We'll drink for you, North," Leo grins, nudging my shoulder.

"Damn straight, Hendrix. I've got stuff to attend to. Enjoy the final day in this heat, it's 'gonna be pretty damn cold when we get back to the States!" He gestures to the sky, turning on his heels and walking away.

"He's in a good fucking mood for once," I lift my gaze up at Leo.

"A rare damn sight to see," he laughs, briefly running his hand down my arm.

"Jesus, you've seen me drunk once before, last year. I don't plan on getting like that again," I groan, rubbing a hand across my face.

"That was around the time we wanted to strangle each other. Things have changed," he glances around before skimming his thumb across my cheek.

I can't help but think about if we'd been told I would be going back to the Hawks instead. Where things could've gone.

Now, it's all wrapping back into its web as quickly as it unravelled.

"We should probably help out with the preparations to leave," I sigh.

He thinks for a second before nodding. "You're right, we aren't exactly being very useful," he chuckles, bringing his hand down to squeeze my own.

"I'll see you later, yeah?" I smile up at him.

"Of course, Nov," he gazes his deep brown eyes down into my own, giving a swift kiss to my forehead before releasing my hand and striding away, leaving me in the deafening sounds of my own thoughts.

I'm going to miss him so fucking much. Since we've been here, we've pulled each other out of every dark corner, relied on each other when teetering over the brink of death.

It's been such a short amount of time in the grand scheme of things, yet this operation has altered so many parts of my life.

For better and for worse.

—

"My God, I don't know why I thought it was a good fucking idea to drink whiskey at 12pm." Tara groans, shoving all of her belongings into the duffle.

"So you and Rosa, eh?" I grin, glancing up at her.

"Well- wait. Novie, how did you know that?" She raises her eyebrows in surprise, pushing up from her crouch.

Shit.

"I was already in the barracks sorting through my shit. I saw you guys come stumbling in, so I waited it out in the washroom until you both fell asleep," I glance away.

She definitely isn't convinced, but she doesn't pry.

"You're probably wondering about why I didn't tell you that I also like women, right?" She tilts her head.

I shake my own, "I don't expect you to tell me anything like that until you're ready, Tara." I smile as she takes a seat on the bed, perching myself beside her.

"You're not pissed that I didn't tell you?" She raises her eyebrows.

"Of course not," I say softly, resting my hand on her shoulder.

"To be honest, I didn't even know. Me and Rosa have just spent a lot of time together, and then I started to get the feeling."

I know that feeling very well.

Thinking about it, Tara has spent an awful lot of time in the medbay when she's clearly fucking well. I guess I just didn't put two and two together.

"Well, I'm really glad you've found somebody. Even if it is just for some fun," I snicker, pulling her in for a hug.

"Speaking of fun-" she starts with a grin, causing me to shoot up from my seat.

"Nope. Not having that conversation," I interrupt, unable to hold back the laugh.

"Oh we don't even need to have the conversation, Novie. It's written all over your damn face," she smirks, gesturing her hand in my direction.

"It is?" I pat my cheeks, she nods.

"I won't pester, don't worry,"

And this is exactly why I love having Tara as a best friend, she knows when and when not to pry. Even at our adult ages, we can still have conversations as though we're just teenage girls.

"Well, when we're back in the States, you can continue the little 'thing' you've got going on with him," she smiles.

Fuck. She doesn't know.

"Speaking of," I fall back into my seat on the edge of the bed. "I'm not coming to the Hawks. They're sending me back to the Falcons." I sigh, leaning my chin against my palm.

Her expression falters, dropping completely.

"What do you mean? But-"

"I don't want this, Tara. I'm closer with the Hawks than I'll ever be with the Falcons again, especially now Lisa's gone." I interrupt with a grimace, shaking my head.

Tara gazes off to nowhere in particular as she takes on board what I just told her.

"Christ, this is so damn shit. Once again, I'm going to miss you so fucking much Nova," her watery eyes meet mine again as she yanks me in for a hug.

She really is the sister I never had.

"I'll miss you too, I'll miss everybody," I wrap my arms around her, leaning into her braids.

"Our time here really changed things, didn't it?" Her voice quivers as she pulls away.

I nod slowly.

"Well," she pushes herself up to stand, "this is just a damn good excuse to make the most of our last night. We can forget about everything, all of the shit that happened, even if it's just for a few hours. At least celebrate our survival."

She forces a grin, pulling me up to my feet. I suppose she's right, we're lucky to be getting out of here alive.

"Couldn't agree more, Tarantino."

—

Somehow, we've got music.

Actual fucking music, something I haven't heard since we left the States.

The mess hall is in chaos, but for once, not the bad kind. A beat up stereo, that I had absolutely no idea existed, is blasting a song from the 70s in the corner.

"Shit, I feel like I'm in high-school again," Tara yells as the current song ends, fading into 'All Right Now' by Free.

Honestly, she's exactly fucking right. I never thought that my career would entail a night like this.

I think this atmosphere has shocked me more than finding out Nicholas was a goddamn leader in Altashih.

Half of the group are up on the benches, dancing drunkenly and out of beat to the music.

I share a glance with Tara as we both erupt into laughter, witnessing some of the most reserved people we've met in our lives actually letting loose, dropping their armour of exterior.

My gaze travels, falling on rows of Tennessee whiskey lined up at the end of a table. I guess I didn't get the fucking memo that everybody was hauling one along to the Philippines.

"'May as well help ourselves!" She shouts over the echoes of the song, dragging me towards the array of Jack Daniels.

She grasps the neck of a half empty bottle and two paper cups, pulling me aside as she pours 'two shots' worth out.

I'm guessing she's still a little pissed from her earlier drinks. Even a blind person could tell that this is significantly more than two shots.

This is the type of thing my Dad would talk about from his days in Vietnam. They'd spend a day in gunfire, get drunk, then do it all over again.

I'm not exactly sure he'd be proud that I'm following in his footsteps for the night.

"Bottoms up," She grins, tilting the cup into her mouth and swigging the contents down. I follow suit, cringing as it scalds down my throat.

"Jesus, burns like a bitch. It's not exactly the type of drink we should shot," I snicker, inhaling some cool air to ease the fiery sensation.

She opens her mouth, but snaps it shut as Rosa comes sauntering over in beat to the music.

She's obviously already out drunk both of us combined, visible from the hazy look in her eyes.

"Tara," she slurs, "come and have a little dance,"

Tara shoots me an uncertain glance. I nudge my eyebrows, urging her to go with Rosa. She takes another sip of whiskey for good luck before wiping her lips, following Rosa's lead.

And now I'm alone, apart from the old trusty Jack Daniels.

"Was wondering if you'd be makin' an appearance, darlin'."

Spoke too damn soon.

I heave out a sigh, turning to face Dylan's drunken grin. "Can't say I'm surprised that you're here," I snicker.

"I'm 'gonna miss 'ya pretty face, Shields," he slurs, taking a step closer and jamming me against the table.

"Alright, you're getting little bit too close for comfort now Dyl," I force a laugh, placing my hands against his chest to edge him backwards.

He isn't budging, almost as though his feet are glued to the goddamn floor.

"C'mon, just one little kiss before 'ya leave?" He trips over his words, pressing his face near mine.

"No Dylan, I mean it. You're drunk and you're not thinking straight. Fuck off." My tone falls into seriousness as I give him a shove. He stumbles back a step, ready to lean back in until a firm hand stops him, fingers slowly curling around his shirt.

"Don't want to have to knock your damn teeth out on the final night, Holmes."

Dylan slowly gazes down at Leo's hand, then up at him before staggering backwards.

"Just fun and games, Hendrix," he snickers drunkenly, surprisingly taking the warning as he disappears elsewhere.

Leo heaves out a sigh, taking a step forward.

"Was wondering when I'd find you," he shoots me that crooked grin I love, replacing Dylan's spot in front of me.

"Since when did we have a goddamn stereo?" I chuckle, shaking my head as he smooths his hands against my arms.

"I honestly have absolutely no idea. Miles found it under a bunk," he shrugs.

"Lucky for us, eh?"

He leans close to me. I can smell the strong stench of whiskey on his breath, mingling in with my own.

"How many drinks down are you?"

"Four, maybe? Forgot to count," he grins as I pick the bottle up by its neck, pouring some more of the dark liquor into my cup.

"I'd better catch up," I gaze at him as I take a sip.

"I think we have slightly different tolerances, Nov. I'm practically a foot taller than you for a start, don't even get me started on weight," he shakes his head, biting down a smirk.

"You saying I can't handle my drink, Hendrix?"

"You can handle a damn lot of things, but from what I've witnessed in the past, whiskey isn't one of them," he grins.

He's got a point.

"Alright, well I'll just have one for the road. Besides, I'm on the fucking early flight tomorrow," I groan, wiping a hand down my face.

"Just let me know when you've had enough and I'll leave with you,"

"May as well join you to my hip now, mightn't I?" I chuckle. He curls his hands around my waist and pulls me against him.

"I wouldn't mind that,"

That's all I needed to hear.

I shoot down what's left in my cup and spin to gaze up at him, glancing around to check we aren't being watched.

Quite frankly, I think everybody is too damn pissed to even pay attention to us.

The song drowns out as the track switches, 'Old Time Rock & Roll' by Bob Segar forcing its way out of the dusty stereo.

As the drunkenness starts to kick in, so do my memories as I'm fired back seventeen years.

—
1986

It's pouring down outside of the farmhouse, drops of rain consistently splattering against the paned windows.

A sudden boom of thunder makes me jump in my seat, pulling a pillow against my chest.

"There's ain't a thing to worry about honey, it'll pass."

Another crack of thunder roars from the sky as I curl into myself.

Dad picks up on my anxiety, standing up and heading across the room to our radio.

He fiddles with the aerial before cranking it up the volume, drowning out the sounds of the storm. 

'Just take those old records off the shelf-'

The opening line for Old Time Rock & Roll blares out, he spins around with a goofy grin on his face.

"Well would 'ya look at that. C'mon honey, this is one of 'ya old man's favourite's!" He chuckles as he pulls me up from the sofa, scooping up a trophy from a shelf.

"Watch me do the 'Risky Business' dance, Novie!" 

I erupt into giggles; forgetting my fear as he sings into the trophy with one hand, playing air piano with the other. Despite his artificial leg, he's definitely still got his moves.

I swiftly glance around the room, finding a remote as I position it as a microphone.

I try my best to keep up with his ridiculous dance, my stomach aching from laughter and a smile etched right across my face.

—

"I love this song," I chuckle, beginning to stumble over my words. Leo hauls me forward by my elbows, leading us to where the bulk of our group is dancing.

"I-" He starts, but abruptly stops and shakes his head.

"You?" I raise my eyebrows.

"I love this song too," he blinks a few times, taking my hand and spinning me under his arm.

I honestly think my shoulder almost dislocates, but I don't care.

"Everybody is around us, you know?" I slur.

"And everybody is ridiculously drunk," he practically bursts my eardrum, yelling into my ear so I can hear him over all of the noise.

"You 'gonna pull out the 'Risky Business' dance, Hendrix?"

"Yamato beat me to it," he fakes an emotional sigh, gesturing in Yamato's direction; who is indeed doing an awful rendition of the dance.

I burst into laughter, a similar kind of laughter I had when my Dad was doing the dance all those years ago. The type where my stomach aches.

The type of laughter I haven't experienced in a long damn time.

"I love your laugh," Leo grins down, turning me and pulling my back against his chest.

I think I love you.

"I can't believe this is even happening. I mean, we're meant to be goddamn special ops. This isn't our scene," I snicker, coming down from my childish hysterics.

"Maybe not. But after the chaos we've had here like North himself said, we deserve it," he slurs, burying his head against my shoulder and kissing my neck.

He's right, we do deserve it.

I deserve it.

Martin awkwardly hauls himself up and on to one of the tables, lifting an arm in the air to gather our attention.

"Everybody! Raise 'ya damn hands! A drink to those we've lost here! May their sacrifices and bravery as officers of Fleetwood be remembered!" He announces, raising his cup.

We all do exactly as he says, raising our own drinks.

If there is some sort of heaven, I know they'll be watching over us from above the stars, proud of what we've managed to achieve even when we've had the odds against us.

My Mom would be proud of me, so would Lisa.

And that's two of the best damn things I could ask for.

—

I didn't just have 'one for the road'.

The music blares on. Some officers from the groups who are luckily on the later flight are getting hauled out by our comrades.

The reality crawls it's way through the cracks in my drunken mind.

"Leo," I say quietly, he hums.

"Can we get out of here now?" I gaze up at him. A soft smile creeps over his lips as he nods, taking my arm and leading me out of the hall.

I can barely put one damn foot in front of the other.

"I told you we have different tolerances, Nov." He snickers, keeping me balanced despite the fact he's stumbling himself.

"I told you we have different tolerances, Nov." I mimic in an attempt of his deep raspy voice, biting down my grin.

"You're so funny," he remarks sarcastically, shooting me an amused glare and fighting back a chuckle.

After tripping over our feet and Leo falling face down in the dirt, which had me in hysterics for about twenty minutes, we finally reach the barracks.

It feels as though we've just walked a goddamn marathon, not about 40 metres across base.

He yanks me towards him as we linger outside of the door, hand travelling into my hair as he guides my lips against his.

He pulls away after a moment and sighs, leaning his forehead against mine.

"I'm really going to miss you,"

"Oh really? You haven't mentioned," I force out the lightheartedness, despite the fact I've been thinking the same thing all night.

"What time do you have to be awake?" He tilts his head against my own.

"In about seven hours. We're leaving base at 10." I murmur.

He heaves out a sigh, curling an arm around me.

"Leo?"

He hums.

"Stay in my bunk with me," I whisper. He pulls away slightly, raising his eyebrows.

"You do remember we share the barracks with everyone, right?"

"Like you said earlier, everyone is too drunk to even pay attention to us. Plus, I'm at the corner bunk." I shrug.

"I'd be more than happy to, but only if you want Nov,"

"If I didn't want you to, I wouldn't have asked," I smile, taking his hand and pushing open the door.

The barracks are blanketed under the midnight shadows, silence broken up by snores as I tread us across the wooden floorboards towards my bed.

There's silence from the top bunk, no usual noises of Tara rolling around.

I think I have a good idea about where she is.

We slide under the covers; I yank up my pyjama shorts as Leo pulls the comforter up over our heads, coiling an arm around my waist and leaning my back against his chest.

"Why did you wait, Leo?" I whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"To admit there was something more between us," I sigh.

"I could say the same thing to you, Nov." he chuckles, pressing his lips against the back of my shoulder.

"How did you even come to realise? Everything's come to surface in the past two days." I shift, turning to face him. Even though my sight is limited, I just know his dark eyes are gazing at me, intensely as ever.

"Do you really want me to tell you? I don't want to mention it if you're not in the headspace to hear it," he murmurs.

"I'm still half drunk, I'll be fine," I snicker.

He drags a sharp breath in, heaving it out.

"Originally, it was the day you got transferred back to the Falcons after we kept fucking up our missions-"

"After you kept fucking up our missions," I interrupt with a grin.

"Whatever. I remember thinking I'd be happy to see the back of you, but I wasn't. I was really fucking disappointed. Then there was all those months in between, and I think it was when, well,"

I raise my eyebrows as he clears his throat.

"After the whole Jed incident, that really solidified it for me," he sighs.

"It's been eventful, to say the least." I shake my head against his chest, "remember when you practically broke my nose?"

"Jesus, Nov. Don't bring that back up, I think about it every day and still feel just as awful." He murmurs, running a hand down his face.

"Don't be ridiculous. You've done more than enough to make up for it by now, Hendrix." I grin, pushing up to kiss his cheek.

"I fucking hope so," he chuckles.

"Of course you have. I mean, I remember when I backhanded you after the Ramirez mission last year," I snicker.

"That was different, I actually deserved it," he groans.

"Well, just pretend it's not different," I trail a few kisses along his sharp jawline,

We fall into silence, finding comfort in the sound of each others deep breaths. I can hear his heartbeat, the rhythmic thump against my ears as his hand runs up and down my back.

"It's strange, isn't it?"

I break through the quietness, knowing he will probably ask what the fuck I'm even talking about. I'll have to explain how it's strange that we went from despising each other, to not wanting to be apart.

But he catches me off guard. He doesn't ask me anything.

He just replies.

"Yeah, Nov. It is."