Third Person - Complete

Sins

"It looks like she's eating his face," Wizzy snickered into Lewis's ear.

Lewis looked over to where Miranda was sitting with a skinny guy on her lap. She had her hand on the back of his neck, holding him in place while she carried on with a long French kiss. He wasn't exactly what Lewis had thought would interest Stokes. Skinny, a big nose, jug ears, and glasses. Lewis had heard him mention, before Stokes had decided to pull him a little away from everyone, that he was with one of the maintenance companies stationed in Fulda. Even though he was kind of tall, Stokes was abut six inches taller than him and to Lewis's eyes, outmassed him by twice his size.

Lewis had to admit, Wizzy was right. She snickered and looked at Wizzy, her eyes a little bleary from the three drinks she'd sipped away.

"We better get her back before she just eats him right here," Cromwell said, her voice barely audible over the rock music.

"Gimme ten," Wizzy laughed, getting up from the table.

"You got fifteen," Heather laughed.

Lewis saw Cromwell toss the straw wrapper on the table at Stokes, who broke the kiss and looked up. For a second the lipstick smeared on the guy's face from Stokes's lips made him look like his mouth was bloody. The illusion broke as the guy wiped his mouth and smiled at Miranda.

"Where's she going?" Lewis asked Heather.

"Grabbing herself a piece of meat to take back," Heather said, lighting a cigarette. "Trust me, all these guys, she's got her pick."

Lewis nodded, looking out around the bar. She figured, real quick, that the guys outnumbered the girls at least twelve to one. Most of the tables had four to six guys sitting at them, watching the dance floor or talking with one another. Very few tables had one girl at it, much less a girl for every guy.

"You stay here long enough, you'll be able to see the hunger on their faces," Heather said softly. Lewis looked at her and she shrugged. "It's something you pick up after a while."

Lewis sipped off the mostly empty glass of her fourth drink and shook her head. "How come you aren't out there? I mean, you were dancing, but how come you aren't... you know..."

Heather shrugged. "I don't want to get knocked up."

Lewis nodded, realizing she hadn't even thought of that.

"You see Ant anywhere?" Heather asked. "Lights are giving me trouble."

Lewis stood up slightly, looking around, and spotted him walking toward them from the pool tables.

"He's coming. Looks like he was playing pool," Lewis said. "He's alone."

Heather nodded. "He likes playing pool," She shook her head. "Kinda hoping he'd found someone to keep him company."

Lewis leaned forward. "Why does it matter?"

Heather shook her head. "It's complicated."

Lewis just nodded. She'd seen Patch change before they left, seen the speckles covering his legs that were just like the speckles all over Heather. She'd asked Stokes at one point if Patch had been with Heather when it had happened and she just nodded. Lewis had dropped it, getting the feeling that the emotions around the event were  still raw.

Two barrages of artillery on their camp while they slept. Jesus, Lewis thought.

Patch staggered up, sitting down. He picked up the full drink that Heather had ordered long ago enough that the ice had melted, and just gulped it down.

"We're getting Stokes out of here before she eats that guy," Heather said.

Patch laughed, a surprisingly young and carefree sound from the hard faced NCO. Lewis noticed his smile made him seem real young, probably her age.