In the light of their little campfire, Bly’s tattoos glow an uncanny orange, standing out against the liquor-red of his cheeks. They crinkle and shift when he laughs, leaning over and punching Wolffe in the shoulder.
“Shut the fuck up, shabuir. That’s not what happened and you know it!” Bly nearly falls off his log in his attempts to reach Wolffe.
Wolffe, unbothered, takes another drink and passes the bottle to Cody. “Are you sure about that? Because I distinctly remember getting a holomessage that went something along the lines of, ‘Oh, Aayla’s so beautiful, I want to stare at her forever. She’s the bright center of the universe! If Aayla said jump off a cliff, I’d say–’”
Finally, Bly musters up the coordination to get to his feet, staggering forward and tackling Wolffe to the ground. With a yell and a shriek, they go rolling away from the fire, fists flying and curses being thrown between fits of breathless laughter.
Cody smiles, turning away to gaze into the fire and take a sip of his own drink. A hundred meters away, he can see the light of another campfire and hear a laugh that’s distinctly General Kenobi. Koon and Secura have joined him, their own little hideaway in this moment of calm.
A klik away, just over the hill, the rest of the men are doubtlessly having their own celebrations, free from the eyes of superior officers. It’s just one night, a layover in a temperate grassland while they wait for reinforcements, but they’ll all take whatever they’re given.
Right now, with a warm fire and a cool breeze and the kind of easy calm Cody only ever gets three drinks in, it seems as though the universe has come to a stop, momentarily turning its eyes away and letting them just be.
Cody hasn’t seen his batchers in a long time.
Covered in grass and little flakes of bark from the surrounding shrubs, Wolffe and Bly come back into the firelight. This time, when they sit, the logs are forgone in favor of crowding Cody and leaning against his log on either side.
“So,” Wolffe begins, smiling that stupid toothy threat of a grin. “How about you, Codes? Any amorous excursions as of late?”
Cody rolls his eyes, biting down on a smile of his own. “No. Unlike Marshall Commander Bly, I actually do my job.”
“Hey!”
He could dodge the tackle that Bly sends his way. Of course he could. He knows the way Bly moves like he knows the beat of his own heart. He doesn’t, though.
Bly doesn’t move out of the way of Cody’s knee, either.