Letters to a Soldier

Chapter 4

It was four in the morning when the phone rang. The loud shrill that sounded through the room jerked Darcy awake, causing her to sit up in confusion, startled. The insistent ringing continued, making her realise she wasn't dreaming, and swearing, she dragged herself out of bed, stumbling towards it. Whoever was on the other end had better be fucking dying, she thought. With her eyes still half closed, she scrambled to lift the ringing device, not finding it the first few times before placing the receiver against her ear.

"Unless you are dying or dead, fuck off and call me at a more reasonable hour," she swore bitterly into the phone, not particularly caring who was on the other end of the call. "Have a good fucking day asshole."

She slammed the receiver back down, not even bothering to wait for the other person to speak, only for it to ring again two minutes after she had hung up. She gave a growl of annoyance, unable to believe anything could be so important to ring her at this godforsaken hour, lifting the phone back to her ear.

"I fucking said, fuck off or I swear-" she was cut off before she could say anything further.

"You always this bitchy or is it just a morning thing?" a southern voice drawled from the other side of the phone. The brunette blinked once, not recognising who the fucking hell was speaking. Her mind was still half asleep and everything was rather unfocused for the brunette.

"Who in the name of fuck?" she asked, running her hand across her eyes, trying to wake herself up slightly. She realistically knew she should know who was speaking but for now, Darcy couldn't quite grasp it. All she cared about was getting rid of whoever it was and going back to sleep. They could call her later in the morning, when normal people called. It took a moment before it suddenly dawned on her who was calling. "Tim?"

She could hear him laughing as she finally worked it out and she resisted the urge to tell him to bite his own ass. She didn't care if they were friends. Calling her at this time in the morning was inexcusable and Darcy was, to put it mildly, pissed off. She fell onto the sofa beside the phone, curling her legs underneath her, deciding she might as well be comfortable, seeing as she wasn't quite awake and there was a strong chance she'd crash during the call. She stifled a yawn as she did so, sinking further into the couch.

"Hi Darcy," he chuckled, seeming rather smug and pleased with himself. Despite that, the brunette felt her anger slipping away. She was mildly annoyed with him still, the bastard had rung her at the worst time possible, but staying angry with him wasn't possible, sarcastic shit he might be. "I'd ask you how you're doing but I figure you're cold and pissed off by the way you sound."

"No fucking shit Sherlock," she mumbled back to him, though her words lacked any real heat, most of it having dissipated into the air once she realised who it was that was speaking to her. "Though it's not actually cold so I guess that part is incorrect. What the hell are you doing calling at this time in the morning, Sergeant?"

"Thought I'd wake you up," he replied dryly, that southern accent making her grin slightly. She would have never guessed where he was from if she had just relied on the photos he sent her. "Would have made the trip and done it personally but I feel that would have landed me a black eye. And I'm much too pretty for that. I pity any man that tries it."

Darcy snorted slightly at that, his response amusing her. It was something so uniquely Tim and she couldn't help but smile at what he was saying. "I think you might be the only person who'd wake me up at four in the morning. Normal people aren't awake at that hour, Gutterson. Course, you and your weird army schedules make you completely not normal. You know, I'm starting to think I should have this conversation when I'm more awake and what I'm saying actually makes sense."