*****
It seems that our group of fugitives are surviving for now at least. They've found a place to hole up for a little while and wash.
To Morgan, Maggie and Maddox, there's an uncomfortable sense that to do that carries the feeling of risk that they're flirting with disaster. All three of them are mindful that what they'd planned and what's taken place so far are not really all that similar.
And then of course, there's that other thing. If you suddenly find that you've cheated death somehow, why there are things which you do in a certain order, right?
You check yourself out for bullet holes or other damage. Check to see if you've still got your wallet, and then see which pocket the car keys are in.
And if all that checks out ok and you find yourself looking into the eyes of a really attractive person who has survived the very same perils that you've faced, something else might come to mind then.
Well I've run you through 4 chapters to this point. I thought it was time for SOMEbody to get some.
Again this is fiction. I'm not even sure that where they are even has geographical features like the one that they're about to bathe in.
0_o
*****
The sun wasn't too far above the horizon and it gave the front of the stolen tank an odd and rather charitable look - charitable in that with the warm cast of the colour from the sun being reflected off the surface of the water, the thing didn't look quite so ominous, like a machine designed to operate in a deadly business.
Everybody wanted out. Maggie looked at Morgan, who said, "If you can't see a soul around here then I'd say let them go. Hell, I need a bath too and the interiors of tanks aren't the sweetest-smelling places in the world to start with. I'll cover everybody and keep watch. We just can't spend the evening here, so tell them to keep it a little short since we need to keep one thing in mind here.
As soon as the sun is down, we need to be rolling."
As he climbed out of the commander's hatch to sit on the turret, Morgan had to grin as he set down the binoculars and his rifle. Maggie stood on the grating over the engine looking at the others.
Everyone was feeling at least hopeful now. They were miles away from the village where they'd been only slaves to be sold. The ones from the market didn't know a whole lot about the safety of their lives at present, but for the moment, it was enough. They'd all removed the little they had which might have been confused as clothing once and after a moment's hesitation, they were all in the water, bathing and beginning to enjoy the place.
Mena had expressed some uncertainty over Morgan, but it had been said in English to Junah who'd laughed, "Mena, think a moment. I know as little as you, but I do not think that you need to have any worry over that one. I do not understand the connection between him and Maggie, but I think of what they have done to get us away from the slaver. For myself, I want to trust in them. What else do we have?"
Mena saw it and she nodded then, just managing the barest of little smiles.
Junah looked around at the others and what she could see of the local scenery which consisted of a long spring-fed pond surrounded by date palms and for the moment at least, she felt fairly safe, though she knew that it didn't mean much. It did give a feeling of some comfort and it caused her to relax. Then she began to look at a few of the others and that led her to begin admiring a different sort of scenery.
Maggie caught her eye and Junah wondered at the very brief glimpses of some of the tattoos which Maggie had. They'd only been visible at all to her in quick moments as they were very near to each other during their escape in the tank.
Often, the vehicle would jostle them and things only improved for Junah when she was in the gunner's seat. Maggie was most often standing very close by while working with Darotai and between hitting a bump now and then or the way that they occasionally moved from the way that the tank was driven had caused them to end up against each other quite often.
Sometimes, Maggie had found herself a little sprawled over Junah and it brought them both some slightly embarrassed laughter as they'd untangled themselves. Since they rode in this way for miles, it happened over and over and after a while, they only smiled at each other with a sort of 'what are you gonna do' expression.
And, Junah remembered now, there were a few times when she'd been a little slow to remove her hands if they ended up in slightly strange places on Maggie and she'd noticed that Maggie had also grown a little slower to remove her hands as well. More than once ...
Junah smiled to herself. More than a few times, after the bump or whatever it had been that had caused them to be against each other was past, each of them had exchanged just the slightest of squeezes, sometimes even as they looked at each other with the barest of smiles.
For her part, Junah had wanted just the chance where they would have ended with their heads nearer together than had happened. It had never happened the way that she'd have wanted, but Junah had been trying to hold herself a little ready if it did. She'd have left a little kiss just to see what might happen.
-----
Back at the tank, Maggie began to remove her jelabeeya and made a face for a moment, "God, I reek.
Morgan, can you sit watch for everybody? I need to wash in the worst way, and I thought I was bad before I even got out of the truck. Now I feel like that mythical gatepost that Quan's always talking about when she feels like she needs a bath."
Morgan looked over, "What gatepost? I don't think I've ever heard anything like that from her."
Maggie grinned and chuckled, "It never made sense to me before, but if it doesn't apply now, it never will.
When she really wants a bath, she always says that she feels about as clean as the gatepost out back of a boozecan tavern anywhere in rural Asia. I asked her about it one time and she means the one that everybody either pukes on or pisses against."
It caused Morgan to laugh a little. "Well, I'd say that you ought to get clean then, if it's that bad. I've got this covered, Maggie. Go wash and try to get the others to hurry a little. I want to be on the road again just after sundown and that won't take too much longer.
In the meantime, I'm actually trying not to look at all of the incredible naked women around me.
He looked up at the sky through the trees overhead for a moment with a resigned sort of smirk, "I know the priorities, but this is just a little cruel, you know? If I was sixteen again right now, I'd probably already have embarrassed myself by not being able to keep watch to save my life."
Maggie grinned, "So you'd be walking around with a boner then, right?"
Morgan shook his head, "No, I mean that I'd already have gone past that and probably have come just from standing here looking around."
Maggie smirked at him, "So you're telling me that you're unaffected by all of this at the ripe old age of twenty-seven?"
He shook his head, "Hell no. Why do you think I'm sitting here with one leg up so nobody can see the bulge?"
Taking off her jelabeeya, Maggie looked over with a soft smile, "That's better. I was wondering if I ought to be concerned for you for a second there."
She glanced at Priest, who nodded back and said, "I think Morgan's just a severe case of arrested development. If I wanted to marvel at all of the naked bodies, I'd organise a game of volleyball."
Maggie liked that about Priest and she laughed. He often said what he meant, and she had to give him that.
As she disrobed, the others who saw stared at Maggie's body, seeing the beautiful tattoos and the weapons which were held in a harness that she wore low on her back. In a moment, Maggie stood with only the two pieces of thin linen that she wore most often under anything else, and that only lasted as long as it took for her to untie them.
Junah's eyebrows rose in surprise because the tattoos were far larger and more involved than she could have ever guessed that they'd be.
She wandered away at that point, seeing Sonja washing a distance away and she shook her head a little as she walked, seeing once again how shy her friend could be about her body just by watching her actions from this far away. She knew that there were times when Sonja was almost brazen if the mood was on her, though it was a very rare thing when it happened.
Sometimes, like now, she was beyond painfully shy.
And there were times when it seemed that Sonja had arrived at the conclusion that her body had failed to really develop at all, other than in height. At those times, she was beyond caring, behaving as though it was just something which she'd accepted about herself. She'd tell others that she was still a stick-thin girl like she was as a child, though it wasn't the case at all. Sonja just refused to see that while she hadn't been graced with much in her chest, the truth was that some development had occurred at least, for all of Sonja's adopted blindness with regard to her own body.
Junah knew that it had. She was there as it did. It might not have been much, but still, it hadn't been the way that Sonja spoke of it. She saw Darotai beginning to walk toward Sonja, so Junah headed there.
Junah liked the Eritrean. She knew that she would like her, since at least here, Darotai seemed more like a normal person rather than someone who maintained her rage and perpetual anger at being captured and sold into slavery.
