This is spying. Isn't it FUN?

[neverwrongagent]

Brody attending the meeting Walker had so casually mentioned turned into a three ring circus. More than one person involved was convinced the whole thing was a wild goose chase, including Carrie occasionally. If she hadn't seen Walker as up close and personal as she had when they were first rescued, she could have been convinced. Maybe sending Brody to a regular meeting for returning vets who were also Muslim was just a kind of fuck you from a man who felt he'd been betrayed by a brother soldier. Or it could be something much more sinister. The problem was, no one could really figure out what that sinister was supposed to be. Carrie continued to maintain that Brody had no idea what was going on.

The questions Brody faced right after the meeting ranged from if he knew any of the people there already to how was he planning to overthrow the US government. When the questions headed that way a majority of the time, Carrie called foul and got Brody out of there. With full understanding of the irony involved, they had decided that the cover that would work best with his family was that he was working with other vets on integrating back into the world. Carrie would have felt a lot worse about that if it was just being used to cover up them fucking around. She still felt pretty shitty about it given how much stress it was putting on him.

They took their own cars back to her place. She got there before him and immediately opened a fresh bottle of wine, leaving a full glass on the counter for him, then she went upstairs to change into something decidedly less official looking.

Comments

[posterboymarine]

He considered pushing her a little more, but decided that he'd rather just see what she did next. He stayed leaned over her, his hand in hers, his lips on her shoulder. Whimpering, he rocked harder, staying deep inside her for longer.

[neverwrongagent]

If he'd pushed, she might have pushed back and not said anything that made her feel exposed. Instead he used his body, the lengthening strokes that bound them together, and something inside her loosened. "Whole when you're with me. Everything works right. Doesn't race. Doesn't skip." She shuddered hard. "So good."

[posterboymarine]

He kissed her shoulder again, nodding. "Everything feels right. Doesn't make sense, but it feels right."

[neverwrongagent]

"Need you." She moved back against him, pressing harder, but that wasn't what she meant. It would have to do at the moment, though, because her body took over again. Her hand tightened on his to the point that her fingers went white. "Please."

[posterboymarine]

He nodded and started rocking harder still against her. He was pushing himself now, chasing after his own release. If he got another out of her, then good. He didn't have far to go and he was soon whimpering her name in her ear.

[neverwrongagent]

Fear of discovery came in all kinds of shapes. Now it helped feed her excitement and she was right with him. All it took was hearing her name that way, so full of emotion, and she was done. She tossed her head back so she could search for a kiss, but she didn't have the control for follow through.

[posterboymarine]

He caught her in that kiss just as he lost the last bits of his control. He cried into her mouth as his body went rigid behind her.

[neverwrongagent]

Only the pillows kept her from collapsing completely. Still, she sagged beneath him, unable to hold much of his weight. She stayed in the kiss until she felt his body start to relax, then she gave up with a whimper. "Yes. Good. Very...wow."

[posterboymarine]

He rolled off of her with another whimper, then tucked himself in close next to her with an arm thrown over her to keep her there. "There are pheromones in your soap, I swear to Allah."

[neverwrongagent]

She blinked hard at his word choice, not looking over at him for a long moment. Then she laughed softly. "That would explain it except for one little thing." She leaned over and kissed him. "I was using a different soap when we met."

[posterboymarine]

"So much for that theory. Must be love, then,"

[neverwrongagent]

That drew her attention even more than the one word in his last sentence. She petted his hair with a shaky hand. "Must be." After a moment, she sighed very softly. "I'm surprisingly okay with that."

[posterboymarine]

"That's good." He sighed so he was wrapped around her, then whimpered again before closing hours eyes. Before too long, he was just zoned out enough to not realize he was reciting love poetry to her in Arabic.

[neverwrongagent]

As open to him as she was, having said something to him that she never, ever said, she found herself letting the soft words wash over her without immediate question because they were a comfort. Oh, they were filed away the way everything always was, but as she felt him drift, she also drifted. She knew the poem, knew how the language of it flowed, and she smiled when he reached the most suggestive parts.

The moment was so sweet, she wanted to cling to it.

[posterboymarine]

He snuggled close to her, rambling on to another poem. The fact was, if he were able to be this relaxed with his wife, his marriage would not be on deaths door. Instead, he focused on Carrie, on being with her, because she understood.

And she wasn't staring at him as he slipped into the language of the people who'd held him captive.

[neverwrongagent]

The language hadn't held him captive. The poetry hadn't tortured him. That same language inspired math and vast civilizations. Her lips moved in time with his, she even softly repeated some words that she felt particularly strongly. When that poem ended, she spoke softly.

"When did you learn that?" She knew the answer was very likely during his captivity.

[posterboymarine]

He shrugged. "علمت أنه بينما في البلاد. أسرع لم يكن الشيء الوحيد المفيد.*" He wasn't fully aware that he was doing it, that he'd not switched back to English.

(* I learned it while in country. Hurry up was not the only thing useful.)

[neverwrongagent]

She was curious just how strong his language skills were, so she didn't switch either. "لهجة ليست سيئة، لا هو اختيارك للنصوص.*"


(*Your accent's not bad, neither is your choice of texts.)

[posterboymarine]

He shrugged. "أنا أعرف أنا صوت مثل كافر ، ولكن هذا النص لا الوقوف على ترجمة.*" It wasn't even close to conscious anymore, his slip into Arabic. If he thought about it, on a self-reflective level, it might have worried him. If Carrie thought about it, she might be concerned.

(* I know I sound like an infidel, but the text doesn't stand up to translation.)

[neverwrongagent]

That was one word too many, one concept too many, for her to stay in her easy frame of mind. She nodded agreement about the text, then after a moment, she asked softly, "وأن ما كنت لا تزال هي؟ كافر؟*" She caressed his cheek. "أم أن هذا التغيير بينما كنت هناك؟**"

She wasn't so lost in the conflict that she thought becoming Muslim made him suddenly evil, but it was unexpected. And something to be investigated. Even if it was innocent, she could understand him not telling anyone else. Anyone other than her.

(*And is that what you still are? An infidel?

**Or did that change while you were there?)

[posterboymarine]

He shrugged. "لا أدري ما أنا الحبيبة . لا يوجد دليل سهل على هذه الأمور.*" He shifted so that he could look at her, touch her face, and kiss her.

"كيف اعتقد في أي إن شاء الله بعد ما حدث لي ؟ التعذيب والقسوة، على كلا الجانبين، لا سبل ومهام الورع الرجال.**"

(* I do not know what I am, beloved. There is no easy guide for these things. **How could I really believe in any god after what has happened to me? Torture and cruelty, on both sides, are not the ways of godly men.)

[neverwrongagent]

That wasn't much of an answer, but she smiled gently for him and kissed him back. Being called beloved in Arabic stung a little now that she was worried, but the touch still felt the same. "ولكن كنت مؤمنا. ما يهم لك.*" She cocked her head. "كنتم دائما؟**"

His Arabic was better than recited, memorized, poetry and soldier boy pidgin would have hinted at, accent aside.

*But you are a believer. That matters to you.
**Were you always?

[posterboymarine]

He shrugged as he laid his head back on her shoulder. "أنا لا أصلي. أنا لم يصلي . أنا لا أطلب من الله . لا أقبل أن الله يتدخل. ولكن هذا لا يعني أن لا أمل أن ما نعانيه هو لن تذهب سدى.*" He tightened his arm around her, retreating into hiding some against her. It didn't stop him from talking. It was as if he was more open the more hidden he became. There was a link there, between his unconscious Arabic and his retreat.

"أنا فقط أريد السلام يا حبيبي . هو طلب ؟ أن كل هذا الهراء?**"



(* I do not pray. I have never prayed. I do not ask for things from God. I do not accept that God would intervene. But that doesn't mean that I don't hope that what we go through is not in vain.
** I just want peace, my love. Is that asking too much? That all this nonsense stop?)

[neverwrongagent]

Carrie had only the most casual faiths, attached to no religion. In the loosest terms she might be a deist, if she thought about it at all. Hearing him talk that way, in that language, was getting odder and odder. "كيف نجد السلام والمحبة؟ بالنسبة لي انها تأتي من الحقيقة.*" She swallowed hard at the irony of that when she was still holding back something she'd only hinted at. "ومن لم يسع قط الحقيقة عبثا.**

She petted his hair softly. "لماذا كان من الصعب جدا أن يكون في ذلك الاجتماع؟ يبدو وكأنك قد وجدت أرضية مشتركة.***"



(*How do we find peace, love? For me it comes from truth.

**The truth is never sought in vain.

***Why was it so hard to be in that meeting? Seems like you could have found some common ground.)

[posterboymarine]

He huffed softly, trying to decide what to answer first." كيف يمكنك أن تجد السلام في الحقيقة، عندما كنت تحمل مرة أخرى؟*" It felt antagonistic, which was not his intention at all. He sighed again.

"كان اللقاء الصعب لأن هؤلاء الرجال لا يفهمون. نعم، لقد كانوا هناك. ولكن الآلاف من الناس كانت هناك. نعم، فقد تعرض لصدمة، ولكن الآلاف من الناس لديهم. هم مسلم، ولكن أنا لا. تجربتي لا تزال فريدة من نوعها. وأنه من الصعب، لأنها لا تزال متدينة، رغم ما شاهدوه. وأنا لا."

(*How can you find peace in the truth, when you hold back?
** The meeting was hard because those men do not understand. Yes, they've been there. But thousands of people have been there. Yes, they have been traumatized, but thousands of people have. They are Muslim, but I am not. My experience is still unique. And it is hard, because they are still devout, despite what they have seen. And I am not.