by Rachel

Johnny Rico's blood was still thrumming when Goss handed him a second can of beer. The unit had managed to return to the Valley Forge and had been granted a morale-raising celebration. Razak might have been smiling from his position at the edge of the squad and Higgins had managed to lose the ubiquitous camera--after filming ten minutes of footage for FedNet, of course. Someone had procured a boom box and Dizzy was carefully making her to Johnny, her face relaxed but her shoulders set. Instinctually escaping, Rico grabbed Higgins by the belt loops and dragged him into the hallway and, over Higgins' sputtering, into a utility closet.

Without so much bothering as to flick on the light, Johnny Rico, the ideal at which Robert Higgins in everything aimed, pushed the reporter against the closet door and kissed him, loosing all of his unrequited lust. With Rico swallowing his gasp, Higgins realized that there was indeed something more surreal than fighting giant bugs on freakin' Pluto: this statue of a god come to life in order to consort with a mortal. Then Rico requested and was granted entrance to his mouth and Higgins decided that he liked Johnny much better as a man.

That was the first time. The second time he came in Rico's hand, the third time he returned the favor and then the scale was tipped and righted so many times that Higgins lost count. Although Robert was timid and Rico was gentle, there was nothing sweet between them. Johnny still looked at Carmen with a hangdog expression and in unguarded moments Dizzy looked twice as sad as she had before. When Higgins saw her stare at Rico as if he were everything she‚d never get, guilt welled up in and threatened to overwhelm him.

But it didn't make him stop.


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