In for a drink or two

[Stephen Colly]

It was nearing dark, around 7:00, the pub was becoming crowded with soldiers from the near by barracks and women, there to have fun in all sorts of ways. A lone soldier walked into the pub, his jacket done up from the cold wind, he looked around, blowing on his hands and walked over to the bar.

”Oi.” he heard a shout and turned to see a women in red coming towards him, Stephen pulled his uniform closer around him as the women came closer. ”You don’t look the sort of guy who comes here often.” she said, winking at him.
”No, I-I’m not…” Stephen stammered watching the women, he didn’t like this, this was too close…

Stephen had just returned from France and was out of hospital and allowed to walk around…he had had a night with a girl out in France and it had been…interesting…”Please…” Stephen muttered pushing the girl away from him and grabbing the beer that had given to him. Turning to the bar he looked away from the girl who rolled her eyes. ”Fine, suit yourself handsome.” she muttered, ruffling his hair and moving off.

[Rhys Bevan]

Rhys pushed his way into the musky pub and ran his hands absent-mindedly through his raven-like black hair. The tavern was unsusually crowded for the time of night; soldiers trying their luck with the local women, elderly gentlemen trying to have a smoke in peace, teenagers of dubious age sipping pint after pint of beer, the place was full. And not one familiar face in sight.

The Staff Sergeant sighed and pushed his way through the thinning crowd in a desperate attempt to reach the crowded bar. He ordered a pint of beer from the reedy gentleman behind the counter and checked his wrist-watch. He had to be getting back to the barracks in half an hour; he'd best enjoy the drink. It could be his last for a long time.

Rhys grinned as a particularly voluptious woman pushed her way into the company of an embarassed private. Well, perhaps embarassed was a bit of an understatement. He looked positively terrified. Maybe he was gay, Rhys observed quietely. On the other hand, maybe the woman just looked like a rooster or something.

The private - he could not have been any more than eighteen - stammered off her advances and, realising that this was a battle she could not possibly win, she retreated in search of someone who would be more open to her...ambiguous intentions. Rhys Rhys Bevan, 7th Armoured. Don't think I've seen you around before. What's your name, private?"laughed and approached the young man.

"Scarier than any Jerry Officer, eh?" he grinned, holding out a slightly grubby hand for the private to shake. "

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen stared down at the wood of the bar; he heard a voice near by and looked up in surprise as he heard someone talk. It was a sergeant, Welsh by the sound of his accent. He glanced down at the sergeant’s hand which was outstretched to him; Stephen shook it a smile spreading across his face.

”Private Stephen Colly.” Stephen said as he shook the other man’s hand. ”Yeah.” he glanced back at the women who was retreating and getting at another soldier over the other side of the bar, ”Got off with one of them in France.” Stephen muttered and looked down at his hands, he gave a soft laugh. ”What about you? Got a girl back home?” he asked looking away from his hands and up to the sergeant’s face.

[Rhys Bevan]

Rhys' face turned white as the Private introduced himself. Stephen Colly. McMillan's old friend. McMillan's best friend. Hell, he was as close to him as anyone could get without being related or...batting for the other field. No one had seen him for months; rumour was he had died. And now it seemed...he had lived. Did McMillan know? If he didn't, Rhys would have to tell him. Rhys had guessed that McMillan had blamed himself for Colly's apparent death. It would be a breath of relief to lift that burden from the Sergeant's shoulders.

”What about you? Got a girl back home?” asked Colly. Rhys turned distractedly, having almost forgotten he was there.

He stood silent for a few seconds as the horrific images of his girlfriend's death flashed unwanted before his eyes. He shook his head firmly to rid himself of the memories. Deciding that taking the already decidedly frosty atmosphere of the pub down to a minumum was not a good plan. He reverted to humour, for fear of being branded a psychopath.

"Well, of course, who could resist me?" he grinned. "Nah, married to the army, me. And not just because of the handsome men in tight uniforms," he added sarcastically, taking a much-needed sip from his pint and chuckling to himself.

"And you?" he grinned. "You looked terrified when she came over. Got a girlfriend who doesn't make you wet yourself in fear?"

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen took a sip from his beer as he waited for Rhy’s answer; he seemed to be taking a long time and was thinking about something but Stephen did not interrupt he just sat there and waited.

"Well, of course, who could resist me? Nah, married to the army, me. And not just because of the handsome men in tight uniforms,"

Stephen could tell he was joking and gave a soft chuckle, he took another sip and listened intently to what Rhys was going to say to him, did he have a girl? Stephen grinned but shook his head, ”I used to but we broke up, she said I was too obsessed with horses and farms to be a boyfriend…” Stephen shrugged, ”She was a nice girl, got another soldier now probably…” he trailed off.
The door of the pub opened and someone came in, shutting it behind him rather loudly and Stephen gave a jump as if a bullet had gone off, he gripped his glass harder and stared into the fireplace, calming himself from what (he thought) was a bullet but it was just the door. He had been told not to go into loud places because of his mild shell shock and what was one of the loudest places around? The pub…

"So, how long have you been in the army for?" Stephen asked after a minute of silence, looking back up at Rhys.

[Rhys Bevan]

Rhys chuckled to himself. "How long have you been in the army for?" Why did they always ask that? The only honest answer Rhys could think of was long enough. Long enough.

"It feels like decades sometimes," he grinned. "Nah, I signed up a coupla months before the war broke out. So...yeah, about eighteen months,"

Rhys rose the glass to his lips and took a sip. The bitter alcahol was stronger than usual today; almost sour. He placed it down on a vacant table, wiped his lips with his sleeve and gestured for Colly to take a seat beside him.

"You look a bit young to be in the army yourself," Rhys pointed out. "Are you a conscript or..."

Rhys knew full well that the young private had signed up - perplexingly enough to search for a horse of all things- but he didn't want to spook him.

He looked weak, maybe a tad shell-shocked, and the tell-tale scabs and cuts on his face indicated that he was just fresh out of the field hospital.

He didn't want him to know that everyone knew the name "Stephen Colly,". He didn't want him to know that McMillan had spent the first month of his disappearance searching desperately and unwaveringly for him.

If he had only just recovered from supposedly horrific wounds on the battlefield, he would hadly want all of that snowballed upon him. Did he even know Edward was still alive?

Rhys surveyed his companion broodingly and took a further sip of the sharp beer, deciding that he rather liked it.

[Stephen Colly]

”Signed up.” Stephen said quickly, sipping his drink again watching the sergeant, he was watching him again and it made Stephen feel a bit uneasy. ”Eighteen months, that’s quiet a long time…” Stephen muttered.

He saw that Rhys had offered him a seat and so Stephen took it, looking at the sergeant with slight unease. He looked over at the bar and then back at the sergeant, not knowing what to say, so just sat there. He had no idea that everyone knew his name, he had know idea that McMillan had been searching for him, that McMillan had cared that much for him. He did however know that McMillan was alive as the man had come to see him in the field hospital days early.

”I hate the war.” Stephen muttered surveying the pub and the people in it around him, ”So many deaths for no reason…” he sighed, France had not been fun, he didn’t want to go back into that hell hole but he supposed he had to. ”McMillan said it might go on for years, into ‘46 or ’47, do you know McMillan? Edward McMillan?” he had brought the subject up on the sergeant without even realizing it.

[Rhys Bevan]

Rhys almost spluttered on his beer as the Private said the name Edward McMillan, the very subject Rhys had not wanted to bring up.

"Do you know McMillan? Edward McMillan?” he asked non-chalantly. Rhys had to think for a few second.

"We've...met..." he replied unsurely. He surveyed the young private with wary eyes and wondered why he wasn't telling him the effect his disappearance had had on the Irish Sergeant Major.

Rhys and McMillan were relatively friendly to eachother, by which Rhys meant he hadn't been thumped by him yet. McMillan had once accidentally called him "Stephen" and then tried to bashfully cover it up afterwards.

He decided to tell the truth to the young man. Rhys loomed in and placed his drink squarely on the shabby table.

"Stephen," he said quietely. "Have you found him? Have you found Joey?"

Rhys leaned back in his chair, wondering how he had ever fallen into this awkward ditch. Wherever this was going, the Englishman would hardly be expecting a downright stranger to know anything about his horse.

"This is going to be interesting," he murmured to himself, so quietely that Colly would have to strain his ears to hear him.

[Stephen Colly]

Rhys spluttered on his drink and Stephen raised an eyebrow. So, Rhys and McMillan had met, that was interesting, Rhys didn’t seem so sure about it when he spoke but Stephen over looked that.

Rhys loomed closer to Stephen and Stephen leant back slightly, then the man spoke in a quiet voice, Stephen leant in a bit so he could hear what Rhys said.
"Stephen, have you found him? Have you found Joey?"

Stephen’s blood ran cold, how did this Rhys person know about Joey? Stephen only kept that secret to him and his close friends…McMillan was one of them so if McMillan and Rhys had met then maybe the Welsh sergeant had told Rhys about the horse…but why?

Rhys leant back, obviously waiting for Stephen to talk, Stephen just stared at Rhys, thoughts rushing through his head about how and why did this man, who was a complete stranger to him know about Joey….
”How do you know about Joey?” Stephen’s voice was cold, but not unfriendly just cold and wary about this man now.

[Rhys Bevan]

OOC: Sorry for the short post, not much to say.

"Forget I said anything," said Rhys hurriedly, masking his awkwardness by taking a further sip of his beer. He turned to look at Colly and sighed.

"McMillan told me," he said. "He said that you signed up for the army when your horse was sold to help the war effort; that's all he said,"

Rhys raised the glass and havered.

"He missed you, you know," he said pointedly, before bringing it to his lips and taking a slightly light-headed sip.

"He's a good man, McMillan. A bit psycho, of course, but what do you expect? If you look past the ever so slightly terrifying exterior, there's a human in there. Well, somewhere,"

Rhys sighed and brought the glass down to the table with a clang, before rising to his feet almost apologetically.

"Look, I should probably be going," he said awkwardly. "I...uh....I shouldn't have said anything. Maybe I'll see you around, yeah?"

He held out a hand for Colly to shake before making his way towards the door.

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen listened to Rhys speak, so, he was right…McMillan had told him. ”Yeah, well I haven’t found him yet.” Stephen muttered, he might never find his horse, he didn’t even know where it was. ”Sounds a bit stupid but if you’ve been raised around horses all your life you get attached to them…” he muttered.

Rhys spoke again…McMillan had missed him? ”He missed me?” Stephen said, slightly amazed but happy that someone cared about him to miss him. ”Yeah, McMillan is a great man.” he spoke softly and realized that Rhys had stood up.

”No, you don’t have to go.” Stephen said quickly standing up also, ignoring the hand that was outstretched to him. ”It’s been real nice to talk to you, are you sure McMillan wasn’t talking about someone else…I mean…he is a friend…” Stephen trailed off.

[Rhys Bevan]

OOC: I'm really sorry for leaving this thread for over a month but...better late than never, I suppose.

Rhys looked down on the private; the man looked at least four years younger than him and he was in a bad way. He had spent the past few weeks recouperating in hospital, he knew that much, and while there was no difinitive wounds to see, the tell-tale scars that covered his face were for all to see.

"He was talking about you, Private," said Rhys slowly, looking Colly straight in the eye, as a dark sense of pity began to eat him up inside. The boy was eighteen, nineteen at a pinch and he had already suffered so much. How much more would he suffer if he had seen all the carthorses, mounts and even the odd cavalry steed shot by their masters when they grew to weak to carry them, or otherwise by the enemy as they bore down upon them. A huge pile of stone dead horses, spread upon eachother like some hideous bonfire, the stench of death high in the air. Rhys had seen such a sight. He wondered if this Joey could have been among them...

Rhys shook the unwanted thoughts from his head and grabbed the coat from the small rack at the doorside, before giving Colly a small nod. "Anyway, I really should get going. Brentwood's set on sending all the NCO's on a giant run to "keep us on our toes," Seems a tad...homoerotic to me, personally, sending a large number of sweating men in very tight uniforms hobbling around a field, but there's no way I can get out of it. I mean, look at me, I'm irresistible,"

Rhys grinned and pushed the door open, only to pause and turn back to where Colly was sat.

"McMillan'll probably be there, you know?" he said after a couple of seconds of thought. "He'll probably be the one screaming at us to get a move on. You could...come if you like? I'm sure he'd be glad to see you,"

[Stephen Colly]

Bevan looked at him, straight in the eye as he spoke. Stephen looked back listening and gripping his glass, hanging on to every word he was saying. The sergeant had got up after some silence between the two and Stephen was ready to go back into his own shell again. Rhys spoke about going out to run, in the semi-darkness and in tight uniforms and Stephen gave a small laugh but only a small one.

He sat there, sipping his drink when the sergeant spoke again; he had gotten up and was heading towards the door when he paused.

"McMillan'll probably be there, you know. He'll probably be the one screaming at us to get a move on. You could...come if you like? I'm sure he'd be glad to see you,"

Stephen glanced up as Rhys spoke and he stood up suddenly as if an electric shock had just ran through him. ”I could come?” he said, surprised at what the man was offering, putting his drink down on the table, grabbing his coat, he came towards Rhys at double speed. ”I’d love to, I mean…I’d love to come and see McMillan and well…” he trailed off, feeling he had said too much and it might sound differently to the sergeant which he hoped it didn’t but you never know with people in the army.

OOC - No worries Rhys!

[Rhys Bevan]

Rhys raised an eyebrow at the Private's babbling and grinned. He was a strange one, that was for sure, but he was nice enough. He jerked a thumb backwards.

"Come on," he said. "It's a ten minute walk to the Rats base and we should try and get there before it starts to rain. Those storm clouds don't look particularly encouraging,"

Rhys snapped his fingers and the barman and owner of the tavern itself, a certain Gareth Sidney who was well-known to Rhys and the rest of the regulars at The Black Lion, scuttled over to him.

"I trust you had a pleasant drink, Mr Bevan," he said cheerfully, in a rich West country accent, his portly belly covered in a faded white apron. Rhys smiled warmly back at the elderly Bristolian and tossed him a couple of coins. Sidney caught them clumsily and smiled pleasantly, displaying his many rotten teeth.

"Very good stuff, Mr Sidney," said Rhys with a nod. "Particularly the German ale. My compliments to the barrel, even if it is from a kraut-infested dunghill,"

This final statement was greeted with a number of cheers from the drinkers, particularly the simple-minded folk who thought that the only good German was a dead German. Rhys knew how important it was to keep us the morale of the men, even if they weren't technically speaking soldiers. No, it was equally important that the soldiers were popular with the locals. Especially when they worked out that the soldiers were basically stealing all of their women and beer.

Rhys tossed Sidney some a final coin. "And one for yourself, Mr Sidney. Maybe you can treat Elizabeth to a nice hat, eh?" As the barman thanked the Staff Sergeant and moved back to behind his counter, Rhys nodded at Colly and made his way out of the door with a creak.

"Come on, Stevey-boy," he grinned. "We don't want to keep McMillan waiting!"

[Nathan Whyte]

Moderation Post

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Pvt. Colly: 5 CP
S/SGT BeVan: 6CP (Slightly longer posts, on average)[/color]