Combat! Saunders/Caje. Hopeful
TITLE: Hopeful
AUTHOR: Ashley-Pitt
FANDOM: Combat!
PROMPT: Submitted for slashthedrabble Prompt #606
PAIRING: Saunders/Caje
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters nor am I making any money from them. I borrow them once in awhile, but put them away tidily
Paul “Caje” LeMay had been home from the war for about eight months. Home was Louisiana. For awhile he just hung around his mother’s house. He would go out drinking with his old buddies from before the war. And even went on a couple of dates. But he was soon bored.
He had found work on his cousin’s shrimp boat. He could not complain. The job was physical but it paid well. And it was on the water. Caje had found that since he had been back, being inside a building for too long made him, well claustrophobic.
And something else was troubling him. He missed someone badly. Oh, he expected to miss his squad. After spending that long a time living and nearly dying with his friends he figured he would miss them. He had written down all their addresses when they got back to the US, but he had not gotten in touch with any of them. In fact, after awhile he did not really think of them at all.
But one friend, his meilleur ami, he thought about daily.
So now here he was on a train heading north. He was taking a great chance just showing up at his friend’s doorstep. At the very least it would be an inconvenience; at worst….rather embarrassing.
But it was some he had to do. Caje did have an uncle he could visit if things did not work out.
His train arrived in Union station on time and he caught a cab to the address, the only address, he kept in his wallet.
It was a two family house in a fairly nice neighborhood. As he rang the doorbell, he realized that he was holding his breath.
A man opened the door and said, “ Caje!”
“Hi Sarge.” Café replied
AUTHOR: Ashley-Pitt
FANDOM: Combat!
PROMPT: Submitted for slashthedrabble Prompt #606
PAIRING: Saunders/Caje
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters nor am I making any money from them. I borrow them once in awhile, but put them away tidily
Paul “Caje” LeMay had been home from the war for about eight months. Home was Louisiana. For awhile he just hung around his mother’s house. He would go out drinking with his old buddies from before the war. And even went on a couple of dates. But he was soon bored.
He had found work on his cousin’s shrimp boat. He could not complain. The job was physical but it paid well. And it was on the water. Caje had found that since he had been back, being inside a building for too long made him, well claustrophobic.
And something else was troubling him. He missed someone badly. Oh, he expected to miss his squad. After spending that long a time living and nearly dying with his friends he figured he would miss them. He had written down all their addresses when they got back to the US, but he had not gotten in touch with any of them. In fact, after awhile he did not really think of them at all.
But one friend, his meilleur ami, he thought about daily.
So now here he was on a train heading north. He was taking a great chance just showing up at his friend’s doorstep. At the very least it would be an inconvenience; at worst….rather embarrassing.
But it was some he had to do. Caje did have an uncle he could visit if things did not work out.
His train arrived in Union station on time and he caught a cab to the address, the only address, he kept in his wallet.
It was a two family house in a fairly nice neighborhood. As he rang the doorbell, he realized that he was holding his breath.
A man opened the door and said, “ Caje!”
“Hi Sarge.” Café replied