Colin toyed with his water glass. The bartender gave him the stink eye a few times, but that wasn't anything new. He probably wanted to go polish something. Who was Colin to get in his way?

"Look, buddy," the bartender said, with a heavy sigh. The guy had red hair, a ruddy complexion, and a visible tattoo of a stylized tree on his wrist. "You've got to order or get lost. I'm sorry, but we ain't in the business of saving seats."

Colin nodded. "I'm sorry. My buddy's been held up. Apparently there was some kind of drama on base today. I don't even know." He held up his hands. "Not my circus, not my monkeys, you know what I'm saying?"

The bartender rolled his eyes. "I know what you're saying. Here's what I'm saying. Order something, or text your friend and tell him to meet you someplace else."

Colin sighed and ordered a Man o' War. He liked bourbon drinks. He'd drink it straight, but this place didn't look like it had the kind of stuff intended to be consumed without mixers. If only Colin could afford to go drinking at places that could afford the good stuff.

The bartender made a face at him, but retreated to mix up the drink without complaint. Colin didn't let it bother him much. He was used to that reaction from a certain type of guy. He didn't like to think of it as stereotyping. He preferred to think of it as reading people, and quickly. He needed to do that fairly frequently in his line of work. A big, blustery guy, a local by the sound of him, wasn't going to think much of a guy who came to a dive like this to order fancy cocktails. Men were supposed to drink their liquor straight. If they couldn't do that, they should stick to beer.

Colin didn't give a crap.

He'd been out of school for all of four years now. In those four years he'd covered murders, mass murders, mass graves, civilian massacres, political assassinations, and ethnic cleansing. He'd gone to natural disasters and covered the awesome power of the planet to cleanse itself of the curse humanity had become. He'd seen terrorists and corporate malfeasance do the same thing.

A huffy red-faced guy wasn't going to put much of a scare into him.

The bartender delivered his drink, took his money, and shuffled off to take care of more exalted customers. Colin was left to contemplate his beverage.

He pulled out his notebook. Man O' War, 7:30 PM, Shifty's Too. Bourbon is of mediocre quality, and the triple sec has been watered down. He tapped his pencil on the notepad. If he wrote anything more—about the surly bartender, about the indifferently cleaned floors or the distinctly unclean men's room—there might be a fight. Colin hadn't gotten to be where he was, and he hadn't survived as long as he had, by being a damn fool.

The door flew open. Colin had almost given up on Ed ever showing up, but here he was. He sauntered through the door like he wasn't two hours late, with his hands in his pockets, and slid onto the barstool next to Colin. Colin should be annoyed. If anyone else had texted him to say he was going to be "a few minutes," and then blown him off this long, Colin wouldn't have found out he'd been two hours late.

Colin would have taken off an hour ago, like the surly bartender wanted him to.

But this was Ed. Ed, with his perpetually tousled hair, and his big Mediterranean nose. Ed, with the stubble that never quite went away. Ed, whose eyes missed nothing except what was right in front of him. Colin would always be right there waiting whenever Ed showed up, even if he had to sit on that damn bar stool for three days.

Ed grinned at him. The room brightened when he did. "Hey man, sorry I'm late. They arrested one of my buddies today."

"They what?" Colin coughed.

The bartender approached. He'd rolled his sleeves down this time. How he could have been cold when the room just got ten degrees warmer was one of the mysteries of the ages, at least as far as Colin was concerned. "What do you know, you do exist. I figured fancy pants here was making you up. What'll it be, Sailor?"

Colin glared at the bartender. Not only had he served him a watered-down drink, but he'd just mocked him in front of Ed. Damn it, why couldn't he catch a break?

"Gin and tonic please." Ed gave the bartender a much cooler grin and then turned back to Colin, putting a hand on his arm. "I see you've been making friends."

Colin rolled his eyes, but then he relented. "I guess he's got a right to be a little miffed. I was rocking the bar stool for two hours. Arrested, you say?" He couldn’t tell Ed just how much that simple touch warmed him, but that was okay. He didn’t need that.

Ed nodded and accepted the tumbler the bartender slid to him. "This is all off the record, but Baudin kind of went off the deep end when his partner tried to poke a hole in the condom. There was some other stuff going on, and Baudin got caught up in it, and to make a long story short he attacked Fitzpatrick's boyfriend. And then he tried to instigate a child abuse investigation."

"Jesus." Colin whistled. "Sounds like a real prize."

"Right? You can probably do a freelance thing about mental health and the armed forces or something, work him into it." Ed wrinkled his nose. "Just don't tell anyone I brought it up, okay? It's kind of a sore subject."

Colin snorted. "You think? If he'd go after Fitzpatrick's guy, he'd go after anyone's." He sipped from his drink. It was growing on him. Maybe it had been watered down, but if it was watered down it couldn't get him lit. And if he couldn't get lit, then he wouldn't embarrass himself.

"Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking. But they don't pay me to think. They pay me to point and shoot. I'm like a camera." He snickered and some of the tightness in his shoulders released. "Hey, were you covering that mess up in Baltimore?"

"Oh yeah. You know it. How bad are we getting that it was 'only' a hundred people dead this time?" He shook his head. "They sent me in with the first responders on the scene."

"Aw, really? Are you kidding me?" Ed twisted up his mouth in revulsion and took another slug from his drink. "That's just sick, man." He withdrew his hand from Colin’s arm, too, which was the real tragedy here.

Colin sighed. Ed's reaction was going to make this conversation harder. "It's what people want to see. They don't want sanitized press conferences from guys who haven't even been to the scene, you know? They want people who've been on site, who know what's going on, and who can see through whatever the official story might be."

"Did you ever think they might be using an 'official story' for a reason?" Ed shook his head. "You know, like to not share details of the investigation with the enemy?" He sighed. "Sorry. I don't mean to get nasty with you. I know you don't make that decision."

Colin sighed. No, he didn't make the decisions. They were made based on what sold copy. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. But most of us aren't going to share things if we know they could hurt an investigation. We don't want people to get hurt. We just want people to know the truth, and to be able to protect themselves."

"And to get paid." Ed gave him a sly look.

"Well yeah, to get paid." Colin snorted and nudged Ed with his shoulder. "We don't get paid much. We have to keep grasping for whatever we can, man."

"You should have gone into marketing. It pays better and almost no one ever shoots at you." Ed lifted his glass in a kind of toast.

Colin could drink to that. "So what else has been going on with you, other than one of your buddies getting arrested?"

Ed waved a hand. "Ah, the usual. You know how it is. Get on the boat, go do the thing, get off the boat." He smirked. "It's a living. What about you? Other than that explosion, what else have you been up to?"

Colin could have wished his friend paid attention to his bylines. Then again, it wasn't easy to follow the news when you got yanked halfway across the world and dumped someplace with limited connectivity. "I, ah, I covered those wildfires in Idaho."

Ed blinked. "Okay. So they're dropping you into bombings and wildfires. Awesome. Anything a little less, I don't know, a little less filled with death and destruction, or is it all just fires and explosions?"

Colin snorted. "Yeah, okay. You do know it's my job to cover stuff like this, right?"

Ed met his eyes squarely and took a gulp from his drink. "You do know you're an omega, right?"

"You noticed."

Ed frowned. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Damn it. Colin should have known he was going to get himself in trouble if he opened his big mouth. "Nothing, nothing. My genes shouldn't matter, Ed. I have a job to do, and I'm going to do it."

"But what if you're pregnant? Colin, the kinds of things you get exposed to could hurt the baby."

Colin stared at his best friend for a long few seconds. Then he made an exaggerated show of taking a huge gulp from his drink.

Ed hung his head and chuckled, cheeks red. "Okay, that was kind of stupid of me. But seriously, bro. What if you were pregnant?"

"Well, I'm not. So there's that." Colin straightened his back and caught the bartender's eye. He was going to need another drink, and he wasn't feeling all that nice about it either. "And if I were, I'd keep doing my job as long as I could. Just like anyone else. What's your sudden concern with me getting pregnant? You've known I'm an omega for fifteen years, and you've never cared."

Ed blushed, but he pressed on. "It's not so much that it bothers me, it's just a concern. What if you got pregnant? That kind of thing. Look, it's come up around the platoon a few times."

"The platoon is accepting omega candidates now? That's a newsworthy event." He turned to the bartender. "An old fashioned, please. And no added water, if you don't mind."

The bartender flushed even redder and walked away.

Ed shook his head. "That's not what I said. But you could be. Pregnant, I mean."

"No. I couldn't." Colin finished his previous drink.

"Oh really? And how would you know? How can you be sure?"

"Because that would involve having recent sex, and it's been a good six months, Ed. I'm pretty sure I'd be showing by now." He pressed his shirt down over his flat stomach. "Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" he simpered, preening. "I just hope it's healthy."

Ed widened his eyes and sloshed his drink around. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. Not, of course, that it should be your concern." Colin waved a finger at him. "It wouldn't affect my job either way. And if it did, the baby and I would starve, which would presumably suck. So. Moving on."

Ed winced. "Sorry. Didn't realize it was a sore topic for you."

The thing was, Ed did know it was a sore topic for Colin. It had come up before, more than once. A few guys had tried to pressure Colin into staying at home and raising a family for them, and Colin had mentioned it to him. Colin guessed he just hadn't been listening. It wasn't like a SEAL had anything more important on his mind or anything, not at all.

"Anyway. I'm in town for a kind of specific reason, and I wanted you to be the first one to know." Colin tugged at his collar. How was he going to tell Ed this now, knowing how he felt?

"Let me guess—you're giving up the whole journalism thing and going back to school to be a preacher." Ed's eyes danced merrily.

"Er, no. Sorry." Colin tried to figure out where that idea had come from, but he just couldn't do it. "No, I've gotten a new assignment. The Navy decided they need to capitalize on this whole…SEAL thing that's captured the popular imagination. They've reached out to a few media organizations about embedding journalists with SEAL teams."

All of the color drained from Ed's face. That wasn't the reaction Colin had been going for. In fact, it was pretty much the opposite of his desired reaction. "Tell me you said no."

"Ah, broke as fuck, remember? No, I did not say no. I said yes." He cleared his throat again. "And when they had their meeting to divvy up which journalists went where, my editors pointed out that they had a guy who would fit right in with the Alpha Platoon."

Ed sounded like someone was strangling him when he responded. "They're not seriously putting an omega into a platoon full of alphas. They wouldn't be that stupid. That's—there will be chaos."

Colin put his drink down and tossed some bills onto the counter. He couldn't see which bills they were. Everything had gotten blurry, thanks to the hot tears in his eyes. "You know, I had no idea you felt that way about omegas." He swallowed. "About me."

"It's not about you." Ed's lips puckered. "Putting an omega—especially a young omega—in with a bunch of young horny alphas is just asking for trouble."

"I can control myself. Are you telling me that you and your men can't?"

Ed sighed. His shoulders were bunched up around his ears. "I can, obviously. But why go borrowing trouble? Is this some kind of weird cry for attention or something? Are you just lonely and looking for a date? Because Colin, there are better ways, man."

Colin slid off of his bar stool. "I'm not looking for a date. I'm not lonely, or at least I hadn't thought I was. I didn't even ask for this assignment, Ed. I figured you knew me well enough to understand that. I guess I was wrong." He took a deep breath. "I'll see you when I report for my assignment." He left the bar.

He marched outside and hailed a Lyft. A place like Virginia Beach had plenty of them, and he was able to get out of Dodge without a problem. He headed back to his hotel and crawled into bed, still fully clothed.

He didn't know what he'd expected, but that hadn't been it. He'd been friends with Ed since kindergarten. Where had that kind of casual omega phobia come from? How long had Ed felt like that about him?

Unfortunately for Colin, knowing how Ed felt about him didn't change anything. He'd still always be right there whenever Ed called, just like always. He just wished he felt better about it.

* * *

Ed watched Colin walk out of the bar. He watched the proud set to Colin's back and the way his hips swung as he marched toward the exit. And his foot hurt, just as badly as if he shot himself there with a real instead of metaphorical bullet.

"Your omega's pretty pissed." The bartender appeared just across from Ed, like his confusion, pain, and regret had summoned him. "You going to go after him? I mean he left more than enough to pay for your drink, too." There was a hint of disapproval there, like Ed shouldn't have let Colin pay for it or something.

"He's not my omega." Ed tossed back the remainder of his drink.

"You sure?" The ruddy bartender lifted his eyebrows. "Because the dude waited two hours for you to show up. Only a man in love does that."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Ed shook his head. "I've known Colin for twenty years now. A guy doesn't just wake up one day and say, 'Hey now, I'm in love with my best friend. I'm going to give up my life's work to go and have his babies.' Nah, it doesn't work like that."

"Not usually." The bartender shrugged. "I can only tell you what I saw." He shook his head. "You want another? It's on the house."

Ed considered it. Maybe a little bit more gin would make this whole situation a little more clear. Then again, probably not. He shook his head. "Thanks but I've got to drive. You have a good night, now."

"You too." The bartender waved. Ed thought he saw the edge of a tattoo peeking out from underneath his shirt, but he shrugged it off. Lots of guys had tattoos.

Once he was home, he checked his messages. He didn't see anything from Colin. That was odd. Usually Colin would check in or something. He must have been really angry. Ed winced. He still had no idea what he'd done wrong, but he'd have to find some way of making it up to him.

And he would—after he convinced Colin not to embed himself with Ed's platoon. It was a terrible idea. Ed wasn't one of those guys who thought omegas and alphas should never socialize, even though he'd probably just sounded like one to Colin. He did think putting a lone omega, and an omega who was single to boot, into a position with a bunch of alphas in tense, fraught situations who'd been encouraged to let their darker sides come out to play was probably not the best or safest plan.

And the thought of putting precious Colin into a situation like that made Ed's blood run absolutely cold.

Oh, he knew Colin was no virgin, no sheltered little lamb, or anything crazy like that. He preferred not to think about it, but he'd met a few of the losers Colin tended to date. He hated every one of them, but this was different.

There wasn't anything Ed could do about this, though. All he could do was sit back and watch it happen. If Colin said no, he'd lose his job. Journalism jobs weren't so plentiful that Colin could afford to do that. It would be up to Ed to protect Colin from the rest of the platoon.

His stomach turned at the thought. Colin was a good looking guy in his usual work attire. If he were out there, embedded with the SEALs, he'd have to be dressed like them. Who in his right mind could resist Colin dressed in fatigues or in a wetsuit?

Ed shivered. He'd never thought of wetsuits as sexy before, but he'd never thought he'd see Colin in one.

Who would be the first one to start hitting on him? It could be anyone. They'd be getting a replacement for Baudin soon enough, maybe it would be the new guy. He was a complete unknown. Maybe it would be Hopper. He was young and pretty.

He'd have to do something about that…

He shook himself. He wasn't going to "do something" about Hopper, for crying out loud. If Colin wanted Hopper, Ed would move heaven and earth to convince Hopper Colin was the one for him. Whatever made Colin happy, he guessed.

Of course, he could be getting himself all worked up over nothing. Colin had said himself he wasn't interested in finding someone through this assignment. And he'd been pretty consistent about loving his career and wanting to stay with it. Maybe he meant that.

That didn't mean things didn't happen on deployment or in the heat of the moment. God, how was Ed supposed to keep Colin safe?

He fell into a fitful slumber. When he woke, he felt worse than he would have if he hadn't slept at all. He got dressed and headed to work, grateful that living on base allowed him to get an extra few minutes in.

And of course, because God or the Devil or Fate or whoever hated him, Colin was there when he arrived. He stood in his threadbare dress pants and that old sportcoat of his, looking at Chief like he was going to eat him alive and not in the fun, sexy way. A woman in full dress blues stood beside him, smiling the plastic smile of someone who's been told to smile on pain of pain.

Other platoon members filed in behind them and took their seats. "Chief Boone, tell me, is this how a day typically starts for the Alpha Platoon?"

Chief hadn't had his coffee. Maybe he had some, but he hadn't had enough. Anyone could see that. "How do your days start as a general rule, Church?"

"Pilates." Colin continued. "What's next on the agenda?"

"Well the guys have to get here first." Chief blinked at him. "You're dressed like a civilian."

"Mr. Church is a civilian, Chief." The woman in dress blues, who was probably from the public relations office, spoke through gritted teeth.

Chief's hands twitched by his side. "Look. I get it. We're stuck with him. That's fine. But if we're going to be stuck with him, maybe we could at least make sure he can keep up and not die? Sound good?" He didn't wait for her assent. "Adami! Go get our new resident media spy some real clothes and some boots. Also, at some point we're going to have to make sure he can defend himself. Find him a sidearm that won't take his damn arm off."

Colin's face didn't waver. He kept his bland smile right where it was, and inside Ed quailed. This was going to get ugly. "Aye aye Chief!" He ran off for the quartermaster's.

What were Chief and the others doing to Colin in that room?

He returned, and Colin was still in the same position. Ed handed him a stack of fatigues and kept his face neutral. He didn't want to give any indication he knew Colin at all. Maybe that would keep him safer. Maybe not. Maybe it would only make things worse. Ed couldn't be sure, but he knew what he wasn't going to do and that was let on that there was anything between them right now.

By this point, everyone who was going to come in had come in. Fitzpatrick had gone back to Nebraska or whatever Godforsaken cornfield had spawned him to try to take care of some family business, and Baudin of course was in the brig. Lt. DeWitt had joined them, and he glared balefully at Colin before addressing the men.

"Gentlemen." He looked around. "By now, you already know what's happened with Jake Baudin. Navy justice will run its course. In the meantime, we have a guest with us. The Navy, in its infinite wisdom, has seen fit to assign a reporter to be embedded with us. His name is Colin Church. He's reported from war zones before, so he shouldn't be a complete moron." He turned his head to face Colin. "Do you have anything else to add before we put you through your paces, Church?"

Colin shook his head. "No, sir."

"Have you ever run before?"

"Yes, sir."

Ed could have informed his lieutenant that Colin had gotten a scholarship to University of Tennessee for track and field, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to create any issues, after all.

"Let's go, then. Get changed. We're all going to go on a little training run. I'm sure you'll have no trouble keeping up."

Ed knew exactly what his CO was doing. He was trying to prove that Colin couldn't keep up. It would be a good strategy on any other random journalist that happened to come across their platoon.

It wasn't that Colin was some kind of Tennessee God. He wasn't some sort of mythical force. He was athletic, and always had been. He'd been an Olympian, for crying out loud, and he'd kept in shape afterward. He did extreme fitness training for fun. Ed always figured he was trying to look good for future partners, but if he thought about it, a guy had to be able to get out of his own way if he was going to cover extreme situations.

When the morning run didn't knock him out, Chief put him through the obstacle course. Then they had him swim. Then they sent him for another run. By lunchtime, even Ed was winded. Colin was winded too, of course. Sweat made that desert beige tank top cling to his body in all kinds of interesting ways, but he didn't ask for a break. He didn't even seem relieved when DeWitt ordered him to go get some water. He just shrugged and moved.

Chief sidled up to Ed. "What the hell, Adami? They putting something in the water down in Tennessee?"

Ed jumped. "What?"

"Our boy here's from Tennessee, just like you. I picked up on it from the accent."

"Oh." Ed opened his mouth. It would be so easy to admit they knew each other, they were best friends. Instead, what came out was, "Small world, I guess."

No one sat with Colin when they went to the mess hall. Ed started out going that way, but Van Heel grabbed him. "Come on, man. Let him stew. The guy's a spy anyway."

Ed glared, but he went with Van Heel. He might love Colin. Colin might be his best friend, but Van Heel was right. Colin didn't belong here, in this place. He was a journalist, and he didn't belong here.

After work, the guys all decided to go out and grab a beer together. "Should we invite the reporter?" Ed licked his lips. "He's stuck with us through the whole day, man. He's earned something, don't you think?"

Tinker snorted. "Oh, sure. He's earned something."

"Yeah, a ticket back to DC." Toledano scoffed. "Come on, bro. We're supposed to be together in this thing, remember? We don't need to be babysitting some reporter instead of doing our jobs."

Ed couldn't argue. He wanted to, but he couldn't. So he went back to Shifty's Too, and bought his friends a round of beers.

He called Colin when he got home, though. "So what did you think of your first day? Pretty exciting stuff, right?"

"Oh yeah, sure. Running in a circle, so I could run in a circle again." Colin yawned. "Good thing I spent all those years running in circles, otherwise I'd really be up a creek."

Ed chuckled. At least Colin still had a sense of humor about everything. "So," he said. "Those were the guys."

"Charming bunch." Colin yawned again. It had an exaggerated sound, like Colin was trying to send a message. "I'm sure spending however long this assignment lasts with them is going to be just delightful."

Ed sighed. "They're good guys, Colin."

"I'm sure they are." Colin didn't even sound mad. That was the sad thing. "They're still jerks. And honestly, when you're with them, you're one of them."

Ed gaped. "That's so not fair. You put yourself in this position."

"I showed up to do my job. I didn't volunteer for this assignment. It's not like I can say no, and you know damn well I can't. I don't want to be here any more than you assholes want me to be here. I'm already jumpy about going into a war zone, and now I'm jumpy about going into a war zone with a bunch of guys who seem downright eager about leaving me there for the vultures."

"Maybe you should find a new line of work. I don't know what to tell you." Ed pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Maybe I should find some new friends." Colin hung up the phone.

Colin hadn't ever hung up on Ed before. Ed wasn't sure what to do. He couldn't call and apologize—it was wrong for Colin to go out there with them. But he'd hurt his best friend, and he had no idea how to make it better.