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riptide_asylumTitle: Four Days Off: Three
Rating: PG 13
Summary: The 'Vette breaks down, and while fixing her Nick and Cody talk about the future.
"What d'you think it is?"
Nick peered intently down into the depths of the old Corvette's engine. "The starter's gone," he told me without looking up, voice muffled, and I heard a clunk as he manipulated something out of my line of sight.
I came to stand beside him, looking down at the mechanical morass my best friend lavished his spare time and cash on. Despite his skill as a mechanic the 'Vette was still unreliable as all hell, but he loved her. I started figuring out the distance to the last gas station, and the likely cost of getting a tow.
"I figured it was on the way out." Nick straightened up. "There's a spare in the trunk." He wiped his hands on a rag and pulled his t-shirt over his head, and I watched his shoulder muscles ripple, burnished bronze in the morning sun.
He turned around then and caught me watching. I flushed a little and he looked away, but he was smiling. "Cody, get the toolbox and the jack, huh?" he asked.
"Sure, pal."
Nick took the big red box from me and dropped to his knees on the sandy shoulder. He pulled out a socket wrench and passed it to me. "Hold that a minute." Slipping several socket-attachments into his pocket, he bounced to his feet and dived back under the 'Vette's hood.
I pulled off my own shirt - I didn't want engine grease on it if I could help it. I stashed it in the knapsack, knowing from experience that if I left it nearby my partner would grab it for a rag.
A couple of seconds later Nick emerged from the depths of the engine. "I've disconnected the battery," he said, looking pleased with himself. "We'll be done in a couple of hours."
"A couple of hours!" I looked from Nick's grin to the perfect blue sky and back, and swallowed my disappointment. So much for another's day surfing. "Nick, d'you have to drive a heap of junk?"
"Cody, this isn't a heap of junk, all right? She's a classic." Nick passed me the jack and I slid it under the car. I cranked the handle slowly, careful to seat it firmly on hard-packed sand.
He dropped to the ground and wriggled under the engine. I heard him tapping metal on metal and then he asked for the wrench. "See," he continued as I passed it to him, "I was gonna replace the starter on my next day off. But it seemed like coming down here was more important and I figured she'd hold out a bit longer."
I got down on my knees beside the wheel and peered underneath the car. Nick's hands were busy amongst the engine components and he was gazing upwards intently.
"Pal, I'm sorry," I muttered. I'd said I was unhappy, and Nick had dropped whatever plans he'd had for this break to come down the coast with me. And in return I was giving him a hard time about his beloved Corvette.
He glanced sideways and shot me a crooked grin. "Don't sweat it," he said. "Cody, you wanna get in under here and give me a hand?"
"Sure, buddy." I dropped down next to him and lay on my back, wriggling until my head was next to my partner's. My bare skin itched against the gritty sand and I flexed my shoulders, settling more comfortably.
Nick grabbed my hand and guided it upwards, placing it over a rounded object. "Hold that steady for me, man?" he asked.
"Sure." I shifted my grip, getting a better hold of the object - the starter, I figured. "Got it, Nick."
"Great." His hands slid over mine and then the wrench bumped my forearm. His hands moved deftly in the small space, weaving around our arms as he undid the bolts. I heard Nick grunt with effort, and then the starter dropped into my hands.
"Thanks, man." Nick was panting. He took the part from me and started wriggling out from under the car. I followed suit.
I clambered to my feet and pushed my hair out of my eyes. My forehead was wet with sweat.
Nick walked around the car to the trunk, sweat gleaming on his torso, his olive skin warmed to bronze by the sun. He tossed the part he was holding into the trunk and pulled out something that shone silver - the new starter, I assumed. I didn't look at it again to make sure, too busy watching Nick's muscular body.
I hadn't thought much about his looks before. He was just Nick, my partner, my best friend, even though we shared a bed and most nights a hell of a lot more than that. Looking at him now, bronze and glowing in the sunlight, it was almost as though I was seeing him for the first time. He was beautiful, and suddenly I realized how badly I needed him. I needed him more than I needed to breathe - but it was more than that. I wanted him, too.
He went back to the front of the car and bent to look under the hood again. I ended up next to him, drawn as if by a magnet, and I lightly rested a hand on his back.
His skin shivered as my fingers drifted over it, feeling the damp of sweat and the slight grit of the sand he'd been lying in. I licked my lips, almost able to taste him on my tongue. "Nick," I growled softly.
Straightening up, he turned around and grinned when he saw the look on my face. He raised a hand to my cheek and I leaned against it, enjoying the warmth of his skin. He bent forward and kissed me, short and hard.
"Cody," he whispered, pulling back from me a little, his blue eyes holding mine. "Babe, we gotta get this fixed, you know? And we can't - not by the side of the road."
"You're right," I murmured, my eyes still on his. Nick was right, but it took an effort for me to step back. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
"Come on," he said, dropping to the ground. "Get the socket wrench, okay, man?" He started wriggling back underneath the Vette.
"You grabbed it earlier," I called gently. "It's in your pocket." I resumed my earlier position crouched by the wheel.
"Won't take long now," Nick said, and I heard the wince of metal on metal as he worked. "Maybe we'll find a decent beach in time to catch some real good waves, huh?"
"That'd be great." It was still only mid-morning and the sun was warming my skin. "I guess the surf'll be better a little farther down."
"Be good to end up somewhere where the surfing's good," Nick said. "And tomorrow, Cody, we better start looking round properly, you know? Check out these little towns, look for work."
I peered under the car at him and saw his jaw clenched in concentration, hands out of sight in the engine above his head. Even in the dim light I could see his expression, determined and focused. The same look he wore when he was working on a chopper, and doubt assailed me. "Nick... are you gonna be happy down here, d'you think? Not flying, I mean?"
"Cody, I love flying, you know? But it's not the only thing..." he hesitated, pulling a bolt out of his pocket, then started again. "Military Police is a good gig. Pay's good, quarters are okay, I get to fly. But what I'd like - what I always wanted - was to be my own boss, Cody, d'you understand that? And I figure this for a step in the right direction."
"Yeah?" I thought about that for a minute. "Your own boss? How, Nick?"
"You want a boat, right?" He cursed under his breath as something in the engine didn't behave like it should. "Cody, c'mere again, pal."
"Sure." I crawled in next to him. "Nick, you know I want a boat. What's that got to do with anything?"
"If you had a boat an' I had a chopper, man, we could go into the tourist business. Fishing, tours, water-skiing, sight-seeing - you know what I mean?" He gestured at me with the wrench, and then angled his eyes up. "Grab hold of the starter, Cody, where my other hand is, okay? Hold her steady?"
"Got it, Nick." I gripped the part and pushed it upwards into place. "The tourist business," I mused, thinking of the fishing charter captain who'd used to moor next to the Eventide, my grandfather's boat. He'd lived aboard and taken customers out when he needed the cash. The rest of the time was his own and he'd spent it on the water, sailing and fishing. He'd often come over to the Eventide and sat on deck, swapping stories with Granddad while I sat as quiet as I could, drinking in the tales they told of the sea. "Nick, I think you're onto something, pal!"
"Glad you think so, buddy." Nick grunted as he plied the wrench. "Sure hope I am, you know? I don't wanna be saying 'Yes sir' at 0800 every morning for the rest of my life."
I shuddered at the thought. "You got that right, buddy." I sighed. "But even if we stayed in the MP's, it's gonna be a few years before I can afford anything like the kind of boat I want, Nick. And unless you came into money you're not telling me about, you can't exactly go shopping for a helicopter tomorrow, right?"
With a growl of satisfaction, Nick lowered his arms. "That's got it, Cody," he said. "Hold the wrench while I connect the wires back up?"
I let go of the starter and took the tool from his hand. "Got it, pal."
Nick reached up again, his fingers disappearing in the shadows of the engine. "Cody, that's where you're wrong," he said slowly. "I haven't come into any money, but I been saving. And I've got enough now, I can afford one of the breakdowns in the next army surplus auction. I mean, it wouldn't be flying right away, but I could fix her up." He took a deep breath, and spoke again, little more than a whisper. "I know I could."
"Yeah, you could, Nick," I said sincerely. If anyone could get an army breakdown flying again, it was my partner - no-one knew that better than I did. In-country, him and Pitbull saved my life in a broken-down chopper he'd lovingly resurrected. And he'd rebuilt the Lady Mimi out of makeshift parts in a warzone. In peacetime America, Nick could likely make a dumpster fly.
He didn't answer, turning his attention to the Vette's engine. He manipulated something above his head, then said, "Right, we're done," and slid his way out from beneath the car.
I followed more slowly. The whole idea of leaving the MP's was starting to feel damned real. It would be great to be off base, away from commanders and uniforms, but on the other side of the coin was nowhere to live and no regular paycheck. "Nick... you really think we could do this?" I asked him hesitantly as I stood up, brushing myself off.
Nick grabbed my shoulder, grinning, and started brushing the sand off my back with soft, slow strokes. I shivered, looking at the smile in his eyes, mesmerized by the warmth of his hands on my skin. "Cody," he said slowly, a grin spreading over his face, "I don't know. But what I do know is, if we don't try, we're never gonna find out, you know?"
"I know that," I agreed doubtfully, pressing back against his touch. "But Nick, I can't get a boat right away and even if you get the helicopter, we can't start out as tour guides with one broken down chopper. Maybe we should give it another couple of years in the MP's, buddy? Wait until we've saved more, and can do this properly?"
Nick shrugged and half turned, and I took the hint, brushing at the grit on his back, taking the opportunity to slide my hands over his skin and trace the strong muscles of his shoulders. He stretched slightly, flexing under my hands, and it was all I could do to step back when he leaned over the engine.
I could still hear him clearly. "Cody, that girl I was talking to last night, Laura, she said to me 'Follow your heart.' And I dunno, I think she's right. I think we oughta... figure out what's important, you know, man? And then just try and make it work." Nick straightened up again, wiping his hands on a rag. He was looking at me intently, blue eyes almost challenging, and I sucked in my breath sharply. This was about more than a business plan.
"I - I like that idea, Nick," I said unsteadily. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, and when he finally nodded slowly I couldn't control the grin that made itself at home on my face.
"Try her now," he said softly, and it took me a second's confusion to realize he meant the car.
The Vette turned over at once, settling into her familiar throaty grumble, and Nick closed the hood. "Thanks, Cody," he said, and I got out from behind the wheel.
He grabbed my hand and shook it, then kissed me hard and fast. He dodged as I leant in for another.
"Nick...!"
"Someone'll drive past," he warned me, giving me his lopsided smirk. "I figure there's more quiet beaches down this coast, don't you?"
"I think you're right," I agreed with alacrity and headed for the passenger side.
I'd barely gotten in when a Japanese hatchback whined past. "See?" Nick said, pulling out in its wake. "Now tell me, what kind of beach are we looking for, man? One with great waves? Or one with plenty of cover?"
"How about both?" I asked him, dropping a hand on his thigh and squeezing.
"I'll see what I can do." Nick smirked at me again. "Now listen, Cody, once I get the chopper flying, we'll have an income, you know? You can always hire out a chopper, flying cargo and construction." He gestured with one hand. "Before that, I figure I can pick up work easy enough. Construction maybe, or some kind of mechanic."
I nodded slowly. "You're right," I said, happiness bubbling up inside my chest. "I can get work in a surf shop, I guess, or maybe life-guarding." I looked up into the bright blue sky, so much clearer and more real than it ever looked on base. "Nick, I sure hope this is gonna work."
"This is the right thing to do, Cody." Nick dropped a hand on my leg and squeezed. "Trust me, man."
I put my hand over his. "Nick," I said, and he turned his head to look at me, cocking an eyebrow questioningly. "You're gonna call the chopper Mimi, right?"
He turned his hand over and clasped mine, a slow smile spreading over his face. "You know I am, Cody," he said quietly. "You know I am."
Rating: PG 13
Summary: The 'Vette breaks down, and while fixing her Nick and Cody talk about the future.
"What d'you think it is?"
Nick peered intently down into the depths of the old Corvette's engine. "The starter's gone," he told me without looking up, voice muffled, and I heard a clunk as he manipulated something out of my line of sight.
I came to stand beside him, looking down at the mechanical morass my best friend lavished his spare time and cash on. Despite his skill as a mechanic the 'Vette was still unreliable as all hell, but he loved her. I started figuring out the distance to the last gas station, and the likely cost of getting a tow.
"I figured it was on the way out." Nick straightened up. "There's a spare in the trunk." He wiped his hands on a rag and pulled his t-shirt over his head, and I watched his shoulder muscles ripple, burnished bronze in the morning sun.
He turned around then and caught me watching. I flushed a little and he looked away, but he was smiling. "Cody, get the toolbox and the jack, huh?" he asked.
"Sure, pal."
Nick took the big red box from me and dropped to his knees on the sandy shoulder. He pulled out a socket wrench and passed it to me. "Hold that a minute." Slipping several socket-attachments into his pocket, he bounced to his feet and dived back under the 'Vette's hood.
I pulled off my own shirt - I didn't want engine grease on it if I could help it. I stashed it in the knapsack, knowing from experience that if I left it nearby my partner would grab it for a rag.
A couple of seconds later Nick emerged from the depths of the engine. "I've disconnected the battery," he said, looking pleased with himself. "We'll be done in a couple of hours."
"A couple of hours!" I looked from Nick's grin to the perfect blue sky and back, and swallowed my disappointment. So much for another's day surfing. "Nick, d'you have to drive a heap of junk?"
"Cody, this isn't a heap of junk, all right? She's a classic." Nick passed me the jack and I slid it under the car. I cranked the handle slowly, careful to seat it firmly on hard-packed sand.
He dropped to the ground and wriggled under the engine. I heard him tapping metal on metal and then he asked for the wrench. "See," he continued as I passed it to him, "I was gonna replace the starter on my next day off. But it seemed like coming down here was more important and I figured she'd hold out a bit longer."
I got down on my knees beside the wheel and peered underneath the car. Nick's hands were busy amongst the engine components and he was gazing upwards intently.
"Pal, I'm sorry," I muttered. I'd said I was unhappy, and Nick had dropped whatever plans he'd had for this break to come down the coast with me. And in return I was giving him a hard time about his beloved Corvette.
He glanced sideways and shot me a crooked grin. "Don't sweat it," he said. "Cody, you wanna get in under here and give me a hand?"
"Sure, buddy." I dropped down next to him and lay on my back, wriggling until my head was next to my partner's. My bare skin itched against the gritty sand and I flexed my shoulders, settling more comfortably.
Nick grabbed my hand and guided it upwards, placing it over a rounded object. "Hold that steady for me, man?" he asked.
"Sure." I shifted my grip, getting a better hold of the object - the starter, I figured. "Got it, Nick."
"Great." His hands slid over mine and then the wrench bumped my forearm. His hands moved deftly in the small space, weaving around our arms as he undid the bolts. I heard Nick grunt with effort, and then the starter dropped into my hands.
"Thanks, man." Nick was panting. He took the part from me and started wriggling out from under the car. I followed suit.
I clambered to my feet and pushed my hair out of my eyes. My forehead was wet with sweat.
Nick walked around the car to the trunk, sweat gleaming on his torso, his olive skin warmed to bronze by the sun. He tossed the part he was holding into the trunk and pulled out something that shone silver - the new starter, I assumed. I didn't look at it again to make sure, too busy watching Nick's muscular body.
I hadn't thought much about his looks before. He was just Nick, my partner, my best friend, even though we shared a bed and most nights a hell of a lot more than that. Looking at him now, bronze and glowing in the sunlight, it was almost as though I was seeing him for the first time. He was beautiful, and suddenly I realized how badly I needed him. I needed him more than I needed to breathe - but it was more than that. I wanted him, too.
He went back to the front of the car and bent to look under the hood again. I ended up next to him, drawn as if by a magnet, and I lightly rested a hand on his back.
His skin shivered as my fingers drifted over it, feeling the damp of sweat and the slight grit of the sand he'd been lying in. I licked my lips, almost able to taste him on my tongue. "Nick," I growled softly.
Straightening up, he turned around and grinned when he saw the look on my face. He raised a hand to my cheek and I leaned against it, enjoying the warmth of his skin. He bent forward and kissed me, short and hard.
"Cody," he whispered, pulling back from me a little, his blue eyes holding mine. "Babe, we gotta get this fixed, you know? And we can't - not by the side of the road."
"You're right," I murmured, my eyes still on his. Nick was right, but it took an effort for me to step back. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
"Come on," he said, dropping to the ground. "Get the socket wrench, okay, man?" He started wriggling back underneath the Vette.
"You grabbed it earlier," I called gently. "It's in your pocket." I resumed my earlier position crouched by the wheel.
"Won't take long now," Nick said, and I heard the wince of metal on metal as he worked. "Maybe we'll find a decent beach in time to catch some real good waves, huh?"
"That'd be great." It was still only mid-morning and the sun was warming my skin. "I guess the surf'll be better a little farther down."
"Be good to end up somewhere where the surfing's good," Nick said. "And tomorrow, Cody, we better start looking round properly, you know? Check out these little towns, look for work."
I peered under the car at him and saw his jaw clenched in concentration, hands out of sight in the engine above his head. Even in the dim light I could see his expression, determined and focused. The same look he wore when he was working on a chopper, and doubt assailed me. "Nick... are you gonna be happy down here, d'you think? Not flying, I mean?"
"Cody, I love flying, you know? But it's not the only thing..." he hesitated, pulling a bolt out of his pocket, then started again. "Military Police is a good gig. Pay's good, quarters are okay, I get to fly. But what I'd like - what I always wanted - was to be my own boss, Cody, d'you understand that? And I figure this for a step in the right direction."
"Yeah?" I thought about that for a minute. "Your own boss? How, Nick?"
"You want a boat, right?" He cursed under his breath as something in the engine didn't behave like it should. "Cody, c'mere again, pal."
"Sure." I crawled in next to him. "Nick, you know I want a boat. What's that got to do with anything?"
"If you had a boat an' I had a chopper, man, we could go into the tourist business. Fishing, tours, water-skiing, sight-seeing - you know what I mean?" He gestured at me with the wrench, and then angled his eyes up. "Grab hold of the starter, Cody, where my other hand is, okay? Hold her steady?"
"Got it, Nick." I gripped the part and pushed it upwards into place. "The tourist business," I mused, thinking of the fishing charter captain who'd used to moor next to the Eventide, my grandfather's boat. He'd lived aboard and taken customers out when he needed the cash. The rest of the time was his own and he'd spent it on the water, sailing and fishing. He'd often come over to the Eventide and sat on deck, swapping stories with Granddad while I sat as quiet as I could, drinking in the tales they told of the sea. "Nick, I think you're onto something, pal!"
"Glad you think so, buddy." Nick grunted as he plied the wrench. "Sure hope I am, you know? I don't wanna be saying 'Yes sir' at 0800 every morning for the rest of my life."
I shuddered at the thought. "You got that right, buddy." I sighed. "But even if we stayed in the MP's, it's gonna be a few years before I can afford anything like the kind of boat I want, Nick. And unless you came into money you're not telling me about, you can't exactly go shopping for a helicopter tomorrow, right?"
With a growl of satisfaction, Nick lowered his arms. "That's got it, Cody," he said. "Hold the wrench while I connect the wires back up?"
I let go of the starter and took the tool from his hand. "Got it, pal."
Nick reached up again, his fingers disappearing in the shadows of the engine. "Cody, that's where you're wrong," he said slowly. "I haven't come into any money, but I been saving. And I've got enough now, I can afford one of the breakdowns in the next army surplus auction. I mean, it wouldn't be flying right away, but I could fix her up." He took a deep breath, and spoke again, little more than a whisper. "I know I could."
"Yeah, you could, Nick," I said sincerely. If anyone could get an army breakdown flying again, it was my partner - no-one knew that better than I did. In-country, him and Pitbull saved my life in a broken-down chopper he'd lovingly resurrected. And he'd rebuilt the Lady Mimi out of makeshift parts in a warzone. In peacetime America, Nick could likely make a dumpster fly.
He didn't answer, turning his attention to the Vette's engine. He manipulated something above his head, then said, "Right, we're done," and slid his way out from beneath the car.
I followed more slowly. The whole idea of leaving the MP's was starting to feel damned real. It would be great to be off base, away from commanders and uniforms, but on the other side of the coin was nowhere to live and no regular paycheck. "Nick... you really think we could do this?" I asked him hesitantly as I stood up, brushing myself off.
Nick grabbed my shoulder, grinning, and started brushing the sand off my back with soft, slow strokes. I shivered, looking at the smile in his eyes, mesmerized by the warmth of his hands on my skin. "Cody," he said slowly, a grin spreading over his face, "I don't know. But what I do know is, if we don't try, we're never gonna find out, you know?"
"I know that," I agreed doubtfully, pressing back against his touch. "But Nick, I can't get a boat right away and even if you get the helicopter, we can't start out as tour guides with one broken down chopper. Maybe we should give it another couple of years in the MP's, buddy? Wait until we've saved more, and can do this properly?"
Nick shrugged and half turned, and I took the hint, brushing at the grit on his back, taking the opportunity to slide my hands over his skin and trace the strong muscles of his shoulders. He stretched slightly, flexing under my hands, and it was all I could do to step back when he leaned over the engine.
I could still hear him clearly. "Cody, that girl I was talking to last night, Laura, she said to me 'Follow your heart.' And I dunno, I think she's right. I think we oughta... figure out what's important, you know, man? And then just try and make it work." Nick straightened up again, wiping his hands on a rag. He was looking at me intently, blue eyes almost challenging, and I sucked in my breath sharply. This was about more than a business plan.
"I - I like that idea, Nick," I said unsteadily. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, and when he finally nodded slowly I couldn't control the grin that made itself at home on my face.
"Try her now," he said softly, and it took me a second's confusion to realize he meant the car.
The Vette turned over at once, settling into her familiar throaty grumble, and Nick closed the hood. "Thanks, Cody," he said, and I got out from behind the wheel.
He grabbed my hand and shook it, then kissed me hard and fast. He dodged as I leant in for another.
"Nick...!"
"Someone'll drive past," he warned me, giving me his lopsided smirk. "I figure there's more quiet beaches down this coast, don't you?"
"I think you're right," I agreed with alacrity and headed for the passenger side.
I'd barely gotten in when a Japanese hatchback whined past. "See?" Nick said, pulling out in its wake. "Now tell me, what kind of beach are we looking for, man? One with great waves? Or one with plenty of cover?"
"How about both?" I asked him, dropping a hand on his thigh and squeezing.
"I'll see what I can do." Nick smirked at me again. "Now listen, Cody, once I get the chopper flying, we'll have an income, you know? You can always hire out a chopper, flying cargo and construction." He gestured with one hand. "Before that, I figure I can pick up work easy enough. Construction maybe, or some kind of mechanic."
I nodded slowly. "You're right," I said, happiness bubbling up inside my chest. "I can get work in a surf shop, I guess, or maybe life-guarding." I looked up into the bright blue sky, so much clearer and more real than it ever looked on base. "Nick, I sure hope this is gonna work."
"This is the right thing to do, Cody." Nick dropped a hand on my leg and squeezed. "Trust me, man."
I put my hand over his. "Nick," I said, and he turned his head to look at me, cocking an eyebrow questioningly. "You're gonna call the chopper Mimi, right?"
He turned his hand over and clasped mine, a slow smile spreading over his face. "You know I am, Cody," he said quietly. "You know I am."
