How could I let this happen?

Well, in my own defence, I didn't realize it was happening at the time. I only just realized that it happened a moment ago, standing in the saloon watching the party.  I've never been one to join in a celebration.  I like to relish pleasant things quietly.  Oh, don't get me wrong.  I like a good party as much as the next person.  It's just that I get my enjoyment from watching the festivities instead of from taking part in them.

So there I was, nursing my drink in the corner and watching Mike and Julie get closer as they got drunker.  I'd heard they were an item once, but that the relationship had evolved into no more than a close friendship.  By the way they  were dancing, they were about to be an item again.  Or face a really unpleasant morning after.  In my estimation, it was only a matter minutes before someone put their tongue in someone else's mouth.  Even odds on which one made the first move.

But I digress.  I was standing there just watching, enjoying the idea that this was a party celebrating the end of the war, when my eyes fell on the only other person in the room who was still on his first drink.  And it struck, in that instant, that in the morning all of these people would go their separate ways and I would never see him again.

And the thought hurt.

I hadn't expected it to hurt.  Hadn't wanted it to hurt.  I'm not into close personal relationships.  Well, not anymore anyway.  And if I'm completely honest, I never have been.  There was just a time when I wanted to be.

Ironic, isn't it? Only after I stopped wanting to love someone did I blunder into loving someone.

Okay, so I've said it. I love him.

How the hell did that happen?

I'm just glad that I was in a room full of drunks when the realization hit me.  I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped open and the look on my face had to be almost comical.  I'm not sure, but I think I must have stared at him for a full
minute before I got sufficient control of myself to look away.  I didn't even notice if he looked back.

Please God, don't let him have seen. It's bad enough I went and did this without the added humiliation of him knowing.

I've got to figure out when this happened.  How this happened.  How I managed to fall for someone who would never in a million years return the feeling, when I was so busy guarding against any emotional attachment whatsoever.

I hadn't been with the group long when he came.  I didn't know who he was then, only that his entrance caused a stir. He said, "I knew you'd screw this up without me, Gooder," and everyone in the room turned to stare.  Then Julie
let out a whoop and screamed, "Ham!" and I knew who it was.

The legend.  The guy that everyone talked about in whispers.  The one they called The Fixer.

Ham Tyler.

My first thought was that he looked shorter in person than he did on the news after the first war.  Back then, all the members of the LA group had had their faces plastered across every television screen in the nation -  maybe even the world.  Okay, there were other groups, too.  Other resistance fighters.  But the Red Dust had been developed in LA, and Ham Tyler -- The Fixer -- had designed the battle plan that led to those motherships soaring back off into space.

So my first thought was that he looked smaller in person than he had on television.

And my second thought was that he looked fifty times more dangerous.  Impressive.  The way someone looks when they are doing something that they are very good at -- and they know they are very good at it.  Confident, strong,
determined -- and competent.

I determined to stay away from him.

It took less than a week for me to change my mind.

That wasn't when it happened though.  I know that, because the reason for me changing my mind was just the opposite.

Everyone else spent the time not fighting talking.  Professions before the war, plans for after the war -- that sort of thing.  I hated it.  I've never been much of a talker, and while I knew that the questions were attempts to be friendly I simply wasn't interested.  Before Ham came back, I'd dealt with it by staying as far on the fringe as I could and being as unresponsive as possible.  That had at first caused suspicion, and I felt like I was watched twenty four hours a day.

Probably because I was being watched twenty four hours a day.

On top of that, I'm not good at fighting.  Or I wasn't then.  I couldn't have hit the broad side of a barn at five paces, and I knew it.  I told myself it was stupid to join the resistance and not be able to fight, but on the other hand every time I asked someone to show me something they thought I was finally trying to be friendly and the small talk started up again.

So I decided to ask Ham Tyler.  And it was a good idea.

At first it was little things.  How do you change a clip? That was the first thing he taught me.  I asked him, and without a single question -- or even a single word -- he took the pistol from my hand, demonstrated, and handed it back.

"Now you try."

So I did try, and I got it right, and he nodded and walked away.

And I had finally found someone who would answer my questions and teach me what I needed to know without trying to be my best friend.

So it didn't happen then.  It was the lack of interest that drew me to him.  That, and the aforementioned expertise.  He knew what I needed to know.

I didn't attach myself to him, either.  I never played Luke Skywalker to his Obi-Wan Kenobi.  Bad analogy, I know, since Luke Skywalker was a male hero figure.  Tyler would have been closer to Han Solo, and he already had a
Chewbacca.  But can you think of any well known student figure who was female?  I can't, so Luke and Obi-Wan will have to do.  What I mean is, I didn't follow him around and ask constant questions and such.  I just watched from a distance, and occasionally approached him with a question.

It didn't seem to bother him. As a matter of fact, I don't think he even noticed at first.  Not for a long time.  Months, at least.

I don't remember the objective of the raid we'd just come back from, but I do remember that it hadn't gone very well. There were a lot of wounded, and everyone was rushing around getting the trucks unloaded and hauling wounded in to Julie.  I'd just jumped down from the bed of one of the pickups when I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard a familiar voice say, "Much better. Keep working on it."

By the time I'd turned around, he was already three steps away going about his business.  So I went about mine.  But I knew he had noticed, and it made me nervous after I thought about it a minute.  I was afraid, I think, that that
one act had signalled an end to our silence and that now he would turn into a buddy -- and I couldn't have that.

I shouldn't have worried.  Ham Tyler was no more into making new friends than I was.

Eventually, it stopped being one sided.  For instance, one day I was trying to clean a rifle.  I'd watched him do it several times, and was pretty sure I could do it myself, when a shadow fell over the table where I was working and
a hand reached out and took it from me.  "Like this.", he said, and sat down across from me.  We worked there for a while, and I think we cleaned about three rifles before he stood and walked off.  So I no longer had to seek him
out with a question.  Occasionally, he would simply notice what I was doing and answer before I had the chance to ask.

Still, we never talked.  I guess that's what kept me from noticing the fact that I was beginning to actually like him.  I thought I just liked that he didn't bother me -- but I had to start to like him, or I wouldn't be in this mess now.

A month or so after the raid where he said I was improving, I started getting assigned to his group on operations as a matter of course.  I'd been in his group before when the draw went that way, but this is when it turned into a regular thing.  And sometimes he would casually point out why we were positioned the way we were, or why it was important to do something in a particular way.

Chris got used to me.  What I mean is, I had positioned myself to take advantage of one teacher -- but after the first couple of times Ham explained something to me on an operation I found that I'd acquired two.  I couldn't help liking Chris, so I tried to stay away from him.  Strangely enough, he didn't get offended like so many others do.  He took to looking at me kind of funny every now and then, then backed off and kept his distance the same way Ham
does by nature.  I realize now that that made me like him even more -- but then I was relieved.

I can't believe I didn't see it when it was happening.  I can see it now.  How they both, but Ham especially, snuck up on me.

Thinking back, I know that I started admiring the way Ham's shirt stretched across his shoulders.  The way his jeans fit him.  But I put it down to frustration, natural urges, and proximity.  On the rare occasions I couldn't ignore it, I could control my reactions to it.  And an occasional joke, innuendo, or sarcastic remark was just banter.  Nothing harmful.  Only real conversations lead to attachments, right?  And the attempt to make the corner of his mouth twitch every now and then wasn't a big deal.  Just something to do besides fight.  I needed something to do besides fight.  I wasn't in lust by any means, and I didn't try to make our relationship anything more than an educational arrangement.

At least I thought I hadn't.

Until tonight.

Yes, I am a true idiot.

I went and let my guard down, and Ham Tyler strolled right into my heart.

What the hell did he think he was doing, anyway?  I never invited him there.

I just wish I knew how to make him leave.

Because the war is over, and soon I'll never see him again.
 

Back to V Fan Fiction Main Page
Back to V: The Series HOME