A/N: I know it is torture, really it is, but I went back and watched this show again. I loved the characters so much. It stabbed at that hole in my heart. I swear there's a new hole every time a show I like is cancelled. It's not fair!
Alas, I know the fandom here is practically non-existent but I wanted to post this up here anyway. I took a shower this morning and like the water-running-inducing-muse I have, this sprung to mind. I will forever miss you, Rebecca/Simon! *sniffles*
Disclaimer: Combat Hospital is a cancelled TV show that belongs to ABC productions. I am not asserting any claim over it, the storyline, or the characters/actors involved – rather, I'm crafting my own piece of fan fiction out of it because it's so dear to me.
"Snow?" Simon laughed. "You come from a place that snows all the time and you actually miss it?"
She reached an arm out and pushed against him teasingly, a smile playing on her chapped lips. "Shut up. It doesn't snow all the time – that depends on what part of Canada you're in."
"My apologies, then."
"No," Rebecca shook her head, thinking how best to express herself. "I miss it because it – it kind of lulled me, you know? It was relaxing to watch and listen to. Kind of like rain," she said, pointing out from the porch they were on; his porch. Outside, in a rare display in Kandahar, the clouds were aligned and opening up to gloriously pour down large, hot raindrops. Everything in Kandahar was hot, she learned. "What about you? What do you miss most from England?" She turned the tables back around on him.
He grew quiet, contemplating. The beer bottle rolled back in the palm of his hand to rest its stem against his lips. She waited patiently, knowing he would answer her truthfully.
This was how she knew she was different – he was different. They were different. They weren't a stop in the road for each other or simply friends with benefits – truthfully, they hadn't even much been friends before, a relationship she was afraid would be tainted by their attraction. In actuality, that was but a bonus.
When he answered her mirroring question, his voice came out soft and low. Vulnerable. To her. Once upon a time she would have contributed it to his trust in her; however, there was more to it than that now. Love. When you love someone, you let them know your sides. "Poker."
Rebecca's brows came together in confusion. "Poker?"
He turned his head against the back of his chair and gave her a grin that melted her – as if she wasn't already; metaphorically speaking. "Lots of underground hangouts in London for it. Smoke fills the places like fog and they all smell retched but it can be entertaining – swindling all the serious players out of their chips. It's easy to spot their 'tells'."
"Isn't that kind of illegal?" She questioned.
"Hell yeah," he chuckled. His grin tightened into a contented smile. "It can be a good distraction." Simon held out his bottle. "Happy Halloween, Ms. Gordon."
"Happy Halloween, Mr. Hill," she replied back formally, tapping her glass against his. Not five seconds passed before they giggled into their drinks. As the draft tickled down the back of her neck, Rebecca asked joking, "Sure you don't want to go trick-or-treating? Might get some surplus candy canes out of it."
He snorted. "That's for kids. But if you want to dress up in something… festive-" His eyebrows wagged at that. "-I wouldn't object."
"Yeah, right. Over my dead body. And I thought you said it was just for kids."
Simon nodded to the pathway in front of them that weaved between all the bunk buildings. "Unless you're an adult – then you just want to get laid; like what Bobby's doing."
"He's not," she insisted, jumping to the defense of her friend. "He's helping out the nurses."
"Yes, dressing up like he's going to a stripping firemen's calendar shoot is definitely helping the nurses," Simon said, taking a swig of beer and chuckling. He stood, bottle now empty. "Want another?"
"I'm good." She shook her head, grinning. It was not right for her to be since he'd basically just bashed Bobby's behavior. Not that she hadn't had those same thoughts earlier today, though. But she couldn't let Simon know that or he would just gloat. So, she bit her lip to try and stop herself. It only made her lips widen more. Rebecca stood and followed him into his makeshift kitchen. "Your mind is obsessed with the gutter."
"Gutter?" His nose scrunched up.
"Dirty thoughts – naughty thoughts." She blushed lightly pink.
Simon plucked the glass bottle out of her hand, placing it haphazardly on the edge of the counter-top. She was pleased to note she had a nice buzz going on right now. Not like she would deny any of his advances if she stone-cold sober, either. One arm wrapped around her waist while the other cupped her cheek. "But is it a bad thing?" He asked, hot breath mingling with hers.
She tipped her gaze down to his lips, hands coming to rest loosely in his hair. It was way too soft – hair shouldn't be that alluring. "No, it's not," Rebecca said, rocking on her feet to capture his lips first.
She had lots of memories of Halloween as a child, and then ones she would rather forget in her early twenties, but this one definitely topped the cake. And it wasn't even about the holiday at all.
The rain thrummed against the metal roof and a humid breeze swept through from the porch. As her back hit the bed and its soft sheets, Rebecca finally let go of everything that happened in the day – the patients, the near-misses in the operating rooms, the soldier that used her as a therapist to decide on another employment, the one patient she had lost, and all the ridiculous planning for Halloween. Even all those that didn't celebrate it – like Simon – grumpily partook. You got candy if you did.
"What?" Simon asked, pulling back in order to work on the buttons of her shirt.
Rebecca helped him slide it over her shoulders, shrugging out of it. She realized she had been grinning against his persistent lips. "Nothing," she said, drawing him back closer. She wanted – needed – him close. "I was just thinking this is the best candy of the night."
He laughed and kissed her again.