Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Felicity 'Flick' March (OC)
Absence makes the heart grow fonder; that's what Flick and Jake tell themselves as they prepare for their first deployment as a couple. But being apart only highlights what they need from each oth...
Warnings: 18+ no minors please. Swearing, alcohol, mentions of homophobia, medical emergency, angst.
Other: Verses in italics are song lyrics from Ain't No Sunshine by Bill Withers
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Three weeks and three days, that's how long it had been since Flick had heard from Jake. No video calls, no voice messages, no emails, no texts. Nothing. There had been no contact between them whatsoever since their fraught conversation back in January, which Flick had cut short without saying 'I love you.'
For the first couple of days, Flick thought Jake's silence was fair. He was probably giving her time to cool off before he tested the waters again, and she knew he was so busy, that she shouldn't expect communications whenever she wanted them. But after a week, the panic began to set in.
Her mind flitted from one catastrophic scenario to another, her subconscious cruelly providing a seemingly endless supply of vivid images of Jake in various states of harm. What if something had happened to the ship? What if Jake had flown out on a mission and hadn't returned? What if he'd been shot down, captured or stranded without aid? Or, whispered a particularly sinister voice in her head, what if he's completely fine, he just doesn't love you anymore and never wants to speak to you again?
Flick didn't care what her mother said. Any prolonged time that she spent alone with her thoughts would only lead to disaster. So, Flick threw herself into her work, cramming in as many after-hours tutoring sessions as her students could wish for. She attended every staff lunch, dinner or voluntary seminar that was half mentioned by a colleague. At the weekends, she pestered Bradley, insisting he accompanied her here there and everywhere. Flick knew deep down he would get sick of her eventually, but the alternative was akin to drowning in a black hole of despair.
"Are you going to tell me what's up?"
Flick and Bradley were sitting in the Bronco outside Walmart after she had instigated yet another pointless trip out to buy something she didn't really need.
"What do you mean?" Flick said, playing dumb. "I'm fine. Nothing is 'up'."
Bradley scoffed. "Right. And my real name is Britney Bradshaw. You're not 'fine', I don't buy that for one second, and this car isn't going to move an inch until you tell me what's on your mind."
Flick folded her arms and turned to look straight ahead, ignoring the man in the driver seat and choosing to count the customers coming in and out of the store instead.
"Have it your way," Bradley said. "Just remember that I'm used to sleeping through storms at sea on rock-hard bunks, can withstand extreme G forces and have literally been trained in survival, so a few hours in a mildly warm Bronco will be a cakewalk."
He leant behind Flick's seat to grab what he'd purchased from the store. "This magazine is all about Rock & Roll Music from the 50's and 60's. Maybe I'll entertain myself by reading you some of the most interesting excerpts? Or I could turn on some classic hits radio and use the time to practice singing, the acoustics in here are perfect -"
