Necessity is the mother of instant coffee

Dec 02, 2011 22:47

Title: Necessity is the mother of instant coffee

Summary: It rains a lot and Polly and Mal are having a bit of a coffee situation. They are being grudgingly cute about it. Polly/ Mal.

Rating: T-ish? Nothing much except a wandering hand.

Word count: 2742 (complete)


Necessity is the mother of instant coffee

"And I said to her, I said, we should really put up some curtains before this happens again -"

As far as nights out in the country went, this was one of the noisier ones. The local wildlife played no small role in this, as did the occasional showers of rain. As did Polly's vampire corporal.

Lying on her stomach in a moderately waterproof tent - praised be the supply office -, Polly gnawed the end of her already quite short pencil while a mosquito happily applied a tiny little chainsaw to her very last nerve - but she valiantly ignored it! -, then added another paragraph to an already long letter.

Since this has stopped being a letter a long time ago and now more closely resembles a diary that I hope to send off some day (the supply lines are still underwater and the finest army in the world doesn't possess a single boat, did you know?), I'll probably stop now, unless something interesting happens before I can post this (but what are the odds?). The weather continues to be bothersome. We've also been having a bit of a bloodsucker problem lately, which I admit is not entirely Mal's fault this time, although I bet it was him who let the latest mosquito in.

Next to her, Mal, who was asleep, or was at least supposed to be, took this moment to turn over in a particularly expansive way. Polly caught the rocking candle before it could topple over.

"It won't do if they aren't oblique. Because otherwise you'll just be asking for -"

"I'll thank you not to set the tent on fire, corporal," said Polly.

"Yes, we had that problem, they went up like a -“

Then the steady stream of nonsense found a sudden obstacle and, as streams are not usually wont to do, came to a crashing halt as it reoriented.

"Huh," said Mal, going from at least somewhat unconscious to extremely awake in the blink of an eye. "I'm sure I didn't set anything on fire this time."

Then her wide-eyed gaze caught Polly's candle. "Didn't we have a ban on open fire in the tent?“ she asked.

"We did until it started to rain, remember?“ said Polly. "Three weeks ago.“

"Does that mean I'm allowed to smoke in here now?"

"No," said Polly.

"Why?"

"'Cos that would stink," said Polly. Well, that had been a remarkably coherent conversation, she thought, considering the more recent history, which covered a fair bit more than just curtains and anyway Polly was glad they didn't have to share a tent with the lads anymore.

"You should really get some proper sleep," Polly added, folding the letter up and putting it back into her briefcase for later completion. "I've scheduled you for patrol in four hours."

"'S not like I'm not trying," said Mal. "Hah, I can probably patrol the place from here, 's not a big patch of land. Hello small squirrels up in the trees, I can hear you ma -"

"No way," said Polly. "Lads will get suspicious. And then they'll want to patrol in their tents, too. And you should probably keep your voice down, some of the normal people are asleep."

Mal rolled around, propped herself on her elbows, simultaneously yawning and fixing her hair for some reason, which she claimed the general humidity did dreadful things to on a daily basis. This went on for some time. Despite this display of grooming behaviour, Polly was all but ready to blow out the candle and catch a full night's sleep herself when she noticed Mal had taken to staring in her general direction in a peculiar way. Again.

"Dammit, Mal, focus," she snapped.

"I am," said Mal after a little while, when she realised that apparently someone had directed words at her and an answer would be the polite thing to do. "It's fascinating.“

"That's helpful," said Polly, gave her a few seconds, then gave up. "What's fascinating?“

"There's a mosquito on your -," said Mal, which finally prompted Polly to notice the insect sitting on her upper arm, sucking away. They got freakishly huge arthropods up here, must have something to do with all the water. Polly was still in the middle of a reluctant attempt to get used to them, and not very successful at it.

She swatted at it, intending to shoo it away, but it was full and slow and then unfortunately it was all over her arm.

"Uh," said Mal.

"Shit,“ said Polly.

The vampire slowly retreated further into her corner of the tent. "Well. Awesome. Thank you. That was very educational," she said, holding her pillow in front of her like a shield. One hand dug around in the pocket of her uniform jacket, Polly assumed, for the tobacco pouch that had fortunately not been claimed by the flood. Unlike most of the coffee. It was a funny old world.

"Yeah, that's what happens to little critters that try and suck my -," said Polly.

"Polly!"

"I just want us to be clear on the matter,“ said Polly, while ultimately deciding to not mention the matter altogether. She for once remained convinced they should just try some good old exposition one day. Mal'd had good result with sunlight and religious symbols, hadn't she, and what was so special about the word blood?

Staring down her vampire didn't help with the flashsides. Now Polly heard voices shouting outside in a language she didn't understand, now she heard the crackle of fires, saw the orange glow of a city aflame shine through the threadbare canvas.

It would have been utterly realistic, had the outsides not been so very, very wet. And consisting almost exclusively of mud. And reliably inaccessible from the rest of the world.

Polly sighed. "Focus, Mal. Please."

Mal herself was a bit on edge these days. "Sergeant, you know what you sound like, you sound like a pamphlet."

Polly had to admit that was a new one. "In what way?"

"Focus," said Mal, while her fingers formed the quickest roll-up Polly had ever seen, "keep yourself together, you can do it if you really want it. It's all just not very helpful." She tapped the end of it. "Much like the League, really. They've never been closed in by six miles of water either."

"And that from someone who spent the night talking about the translucence of curtains," said Polly.

"I like curtains. Curtains are useful,“ Mal told the ground. But the glow from outside lessened and now she was again an image of self-control. Polly opened the tent-flap to peek outside anyway, because never trust an arsonist with a mission.

Frankly, it would have to be a very determined arsonist with a lot of gasoline. Then maybe they'd manage to burn all the gasoline they brought.

"I'm off having a smoke," said Mal.

"Believe it or not, but I guessed,“ said Polly. "Don't go too far.“

"Very funny, Sarge.“

"You'll end up in the water.“

"Thanks, Sarge, I would have hated to get any wetter.“

Polly waited until Mal was out of earshot. Out of Polly's earshot, at least. Mal's earshot probably reached all the way to Genua these days. After careful consideration, she sighed anyway.

Then she reached for her own pack and pulled out a small tin, bundled up together with a strong-smelling lump of soap in a pair of fresh socks. The soap was meant to keep curious vampires off the track. It also made her clothes smell nice, or nicer, which on a mission like this was just one of those small things.

She shook some of the contents into her regimental mug and added water from her flask, stirred, looked at the result, then sniffed it.

Well, it could just be hoped that at a time like this Mal wouldn't be picky.

Yeah, right, she thought and, feeling very considerate, used the rest of the water for washing the smear of blood and mosquito from her arm.

It was already starting to itch.

Polly found her vampire some fifty yards outside of the camp, sitting leisurely on what she hoped was a log at the waterline. She really hoped it wasn't another alligator.

It had stopped raining for a bit, she noticed somewhat thankfully, because the thought of Maladict, in that mood, with a soggy cigarette, was just sad.

The vampire, however, was sucking happily away as Polly came up next to her (she wasn't going to sit down; as a mortal she was slightly more prone to a wet trouser bottom than Mal) and lay a hand on the back of her neck, fingers massaging her scalp for a little while as her friend leaned into the touch. There was something akin to a purr although Mal would probably never admit it, and then do it again. Polly noticed Mal's hair was slightly damp with sweat, a rare occurrence.

After a full minute of this, Mal looked up and gave her a big, friendly and furthermore alarmingly relaxed smile.

"Surprise,“ Polly said softly.

Mal snorted. She had probably smelled Polly coming ever since the latter had left the tent. But she hadn't come back to meet her halfway, and that alone was a surprise, considering.

"Where did you learn such patience?“ asked Polly, her hand remaining where it was.

"Right on this here mission,“ said Mal. "You must admit it's a little boring on this little spit of land, what with no card games and no enemy and nothing to do all day except admiring the biodiversity.“

"Uh-huh,“ said Polly, and chose to enjoy the view for a bit.

It was only than that Mal started to fidget a little under her touch, but she held out for another few seconds until the question bubbled up. "Can I have the coffee now?“

Polly felt it advantageous to just hand the mug over. Its content was inhaled in less than a second. Good, she thought, then maybe Mal wouldn't notice the obvious drawbacks enough to complain...

Mal grimaced against all Polly's hope. "Tastes like soap,“ she said. "And Polly, no offense, you are a veritable angel of light and all that and you did a terrific job, terrific, but usually in our nobby circles we boil the water first.“

"Igor made this 'specially so we don't have to,“ said Polly. "In case we ever find ourselves in a situation where everything is very very wet. He said something about a weather forecast that the command didn't believe.“

Mal turned the mug upside down to get the last drops out. "What is this stuff?“

"Coffee,“ Polly hurried to stress. "I mean, Igor said he removed the water from fresh coffee. It involved a lot of tubes, he said. And to just stir it into water.“ She paused. "Ta-da?“

"It is an abomination unto just about everything,“ said Mal. "Thanks, tiny mortal. I love you.“

"You're welcome,“ said Polly, inwardly grinning. The plot had worked! Mal liked the coffee. And Polly felt a tiny little bit appreciated.

"How's the arm?“

Polly had almost forgotten about it. Now the itching started afresh. "I haven't turned into a mosquito yet, have I?“ she said, rubbing at her arm.

"You'd probably have to eat some of the mosquito first.“

"It's itching something fierce,“ added Polly.

A nice round ring of smoke was blown into the night air. "Well then, don't scratch it,“ Mal said helpfully.

"It's okay,“ said Polly, "it'll be gone at the next distraction.“

They stared into the distance for a while after that, and just when Polly was about to announce that she had enough of all the standing around here looking at the unmoving water and was going back to the tent now and was the corporal coming along, a very nice sensation from around the inside of her right knee told her that someone had deposited a hand there.

"Oh, nice,“ she said, and then decided to say nothing for a little while.

The hand wandered north. She still didn't mind, standing rather still, although she did start to worry when the perimeter guard was going to pass this place and whether they were going to find her corporal with her hair all mussed up (she had on a sudden impulse continued the exploration) and whether, upon said discovery, they were going to draw some wild conclusions.

She looked down on Mal, who had continued smoking as if nothing at all was happening, staring in the general direction of the horizon, and Polly decided to slip her fingers beneath that loose collar instead, where it was very comfortable as well.

It really had been a rather long time since anything interesting had happened, she thought, and she rather missed it. The stray hand on her leg had since reached an altitude that suggested either finding a secluded area in a convenient timeframe or abandoning the mission altogether. Unfortunately their tiny island provided nothing in the way of privacy (they had looked).

Well, one of them had to be the bigger person and usually that meant her, Polly thought, and drew in some air. Or gasped. One of the two, at least.

Than whatever had been worrying her drifted away when Mal finished the rest of her second cigarette and threw it away, confident that it probably wasn't going to cause a bushfire, then leant in to press a long kiss on her sergeant's thigh through the fabric of her trousers.

And wasn't she happy they smelled nice?

"Corporal,“ she somehow got out, but admittedly she had some practice at this by now.

"Yes, sarge?“ inquired Mal, an image of innocence.

"As soon as we find a room with a door, you'll be in so much trouble.“ She thought for a while. "Or failing that, a wood that is more than six yards across.“

Mal shrugged and raised a hand in a lazy salute. Than a thought hit her. "But I bet you're not itching anymore.“

"Well, I am now that you mentioned it,“ said Polly. She was looking for something to throw at her corporal. Unfortunately there were only pebbles and it seemed too much like work.

"Get up now, we're going back,“ she said instead. Her corporal demonstrated a distinct failure to move.

"Sarge?“

Polly sighed. "Yes, corporal?“

"Noticed something, sarge.“

Polly had a good look around in case it was something completely obvious. Unfortunately the surroundings hadn't changed.

"Well then, corporal, tell me all about it,“ she said.

Mal finally got up to stand next to her, a little closer than was usual in the amy. "See that rock over there?“ Her outstretched arm pointed at something in the water. Polly squinted to make up for Mal's ridiculously superior eyesight.

"Yes,“ said Polly, who could barely make out a dark blob in the equally dark surface of the flood.

"Notice anything unusual about it?“

"It's a rock,“ said Polly as she squinted some more. Her corporal, regarding her with a carefully neutral expression, chose not to grace that with an answer.

"Okay, what is so special about this rock?“ asked Polly.

"It wasn't there two days ago!“ There may have been a hint of excitement in Mal's voice.

Polly's first thought admittedly wasn't the correct one, because at first she thought of trolls and their rock-throwing behaviour. Then it shot through her like a big happy ray of light.

"The water is falling,“ she said. Something inside her that she hadn't even noticed lately unclenched, as if she could finally exhale a breath held for too long. It was a nice feeling.

"C'mon,“ she said. "Let's get back and tell the others, they'll like this.“

They left the water as it was, and only after a while an voice rose over a tiny island in a makeshift sea. "Does that mean I'm off patrol duty now?“

"Why would you be?“

"Because I'm such a diligent rock watcher?“

The answer, of course, was no. They were in the army after all, and Polly wasn't having any of this.

polly, mal, fic

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