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When Skipper told him that the coffee they had at the North Wind was terrible, and he casually agreed to the fact, Classified had no idea that it would result in Private being sent out on daily coffee runs for both teams. This meant that every morning the kid would run around making sure to write down what everyone wanted, leaving for about an hour (with no clear mode of transportation) and returning somehow carrying everything on his own. Naturally, this baffled Classified, but after those four joined the team, and dragged along some of their other friends to live at the base, he was quickly learning some things were best left not to be questioned. It had settled into a relatively comfortable routine after a week or two, and everyone had gotten used to young Private darting around with his notepad just as they got up. He never mentioned anyone’s orders to another person, and he never got them wrong when delivering them.
This pattern continued for about a month, no issue whatsoever, until Private got sick one evening and his team insisted that he stay in bed. With the kid out sick, Skipper, for some unknown reason decided that he’d just do it for him, and that since no one ever got anything different, he’d just borrow Private’s notepad and order the last thing on it. Fortunately for Classified, and unfortunately for Skipper, Private knew that Classified never really wanted anyone else to know his order, so every day after ordering he’d aggressively mark it out in pen so it couldn’t be seen. He didn’t think anyone would ever need to see the notepad, so it didn’t really seem like that big of a deal. In fact, Classified had just decided to skip getting coffee the next day, simply to avoid telling Skipper his order.
The next morning, Classified was awoken by a knock on his bedroom door. Still half asleep, he stumbled over to open it, only to find Skipper, already dressed and wide awake, standing on the other side. He quickly glanced down at his watch to see that it was only 6am.
“What do you want this early pegwing?”, he sighed, it was too early for Skipper and his nonsense.
“I couldn’t find your order, Private marked it all out on every version of the list”
Classified pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes, why did Skipper always try to catch him off guard? He really had the worst timing.
“I thought you could come with me, after all, I can’t carry everything myself, and we wouldn’t have to worry about writing your order down!”, Skipper seemed far too excited for this time of day. But Classified knew there would be protest if he declined the offer, and besides, maybe he’d finally get to see where Private had been getting coffee for so long. With a second sigh, Classified told Skipper to stay at the door and let him get dressed. He quickly threw on his suit and dragged his hand through his hair, quicker and easier than brushing it. Grabbing his keycard from the nightstand (getting locked out of the base would be a nightmare so he didn’t want to take any chances), he opened the door again.
As he and Skipper walked through the near silent base, he had to wonder, did Skipper always get up this early? Was it a one time thing for today only? What did this pegwing do that was so important that he did it before the sun was even up? The other man must have felt him staring, because he glanced over and gave a grin. Shit, was he supposed to say something now? It would probably be weird if he just kept staring, after all, they were alone and would just be an uncomfortable silence at that point. Flustered, Classified gave a fake cough and pretended to clear his throat.
“So, do you and the rest of your little group usually get up this early?”, it wasn’t the best conversation starter, but at least it was better than sitting in total silence.
“Sometimes, if there’s work that needs done or a training exercise to do”, Skipper shifted how he was holding the notepad, “and I guess now secretary work”, he chuckled. Neither of them continued the conversation, because there wasn’t much else to say about it. If Classified was being honest, the awkward silence that followed was slightly worse than before.
They finally reached the garage/landing station section of base, and much to Classified’s surprise, Skipper opened the door to a large jeep-hybrid car. It looked like it had initially been a heavy-duty variant, as there were still remnants of the former machinery inside. It still had a grungy green/gray color to it, and there were dusty and scratched patches where the paint had chipped or worn away. On one side, a faded logo read as “L.A.R.V”, though Classified couldn’t figure out what that stood for. He was so distracted by the fact that the group even HAD a car in the first place, that it took him a few moments to notice Skipper had already opened the passenger door for him, since he had been taking so long. Sheepishly, he got into the car and closed the door. Upon further inspection of the interior, there was a portable radio custom attached where the usual radio would have been, as well as what looked like a computer mounted on the back of the seat.
Skipper revved the engine and started pulling out of the base, turning onto a main road and turning on the radio. Some generic pop song came on, and much to his surprise, Classified could hear Skipper quietly humming along. For someone who seemed annoyed by most songs like that, he seemed to be awfully enjoying himself. Skipper seemed to know every song that came on, and Classified had to admit, it was rather peaceful, just sitting on the passenger side and listening to the radio and Skipper. In fact, he was starting to enjoy it so much, that he had nearly forgotten what the point of the drive was. They rode just like that, Skipper humming along to the radio and Classified quietly staring out the window, for about twenty minutes.
The quiet bliss was broken when Skipper finally pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop, a small, brick building with a green awning and three café tables sitting out front. The lot was empty save for two other cars, which likely belonged to the attendants inside. Classified finally remembered why he wanted to stay home that morning; avoiding someone finding out how he liked his coffee. He must have looked visibly concerned, as Skipper turned to him and informed him that if he didn’t want to talk to the barista, he’d do it for him. Naturally, that wasn’t the most helpful response, as Classified looked more distressed at that notion.
Skipper must have finally connected the dots, recalling the last time he saw Classified that upset was when he caught him sleep deprived and doubting himself.
“Hey wolfie,” he quickly said, “you wouldn’t happen to be worried about your reputation again, would you?” The look on Classified’s face confirmed his suspicions, and it’s a good thing the conversation was happening outside, as he would likely be humiliated at the notion of discussing it inside the shop.
“Relax,” he said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “I won’t tell a soul, and it’ll just stay between you and me, capeesh?” A few moments went by, Classified not saying a word and looking at his feet, before he snapped his head up and looked Skipper in the eye.
“Cinnamon Vanilla”, Classified said, blushing furiously, “I hate the taste of black coffee and always have gotten it sweet. No one else knows and I intend to keep it that way. I just drink black coffee back at the base because everyone assumes that’s what I drink, but I always put sweetener in it.”, he started talking faster, “If anyone ever hears about this you’re dead to me”. With a cocky grin, Skipper made the “zipped lips” motion and opened the door to the café, letting Classified walk in first. It was kinda nice knowing he was starting to figure him out, because it was going to make things so much easier.
Since they were the only customers in the place, they got the order taken relatively quickly, and they sat down at one of the tables inside to wait. Classified was staring off at something and drumming his fingers on the table, not really focused on any one thing. That is of course, until he noticed Skipper looking at him. Does this mean they have to talk? At least Skipper was easy-ish to talk to, if it had been anyone else, he definitely wouldn’t have said anything. Thankfully, Skipper started the conversation this time.
“So why are you so worried about the team knowing you like sweet coffee?”, he said trepidatiousely, clearly not wanting to overstep. Classified glanced down at the table briefly, before looking back to the man sitting across from him.
“I have a reputation you know; no-nonsense, tough, cool, etc. Stuff like this just doesn’t fit with it. So in order to keep anyone from thinking less of me, or thinking I don’t take things ‘seriously’ or professionally, I lie about things like this, let them think I like something, like black coffee, and they never question it. Of course, that means it’s harder for me to actually enjoy stuff, but no one questions my reputation and I like it that way.”
Skipper furrowed his brow at that, pondering for a moment. “So, you don’t tell anyone about things you enjoy? Doesn’t that mean you fake your way through it a lot?” Classified gave a sharp nod and looked back over to the counter, where the barista was nearly done their order.
“Well, I want you to know, I’d never think less of you because of it soldier. Y’know that Rico, our ‘terrifying’ demo guy, loves dolls and stuff like that? No matter what you like, you’re still cool.” Classified snapped back to Skipper, clearly surprised. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the barista calling their order. He quickly stood up, Skipper following suite. The tired worker gave them a look of apathy, and proceeded to hand them three drink carriers. Classified held two, with Skipper holding the third as they left. Skipper slipped a twenty dollar tip into the jar, and awkwardly shifted the notepad and carrier in his hands, struggling for the keys. Upon reaching the car, he once again opened the door for Classified.
As they started to drive back to base, he could see him out of the corner of his eye, cheerfully drinking his coffee. Skipper smiled softly, and thought of how satisfying it was to see a genuine smile on Classified’s face. They would definitely have to go get coffee together again sometime, as it was nice to talk to him without the rest of the teams around. Maybe he could ask Private to take the day off, just to have a quite morning like this again.