I admire Phantom’s professionalism because he’s pulling off the same trick as I am. He appears just as relaxed, as if this is any other evening around the fire with his pack. Except, he has simply decided to bring his gun along as a prop.
I can see, however, the coiled energy in his muscles. He is as alert as I am.
We both know who is coming.
Phantom and I exchange a nod.
“Here.” Bird passes me a stick with a skewered s’more, to which he’s added additional dark chocolate and strawberry slices. He has been carefully constructing the s’mores with the same care that Joker gives to his weapons. “You do know how to do this, right? I was never allowed out to go camping. This is as close as I have come.”
“This counts.” I hold the stick in front of me like a wand. “I’m a s’more virgin too. It’ll be a new experience for us both. My sister loved sitting around in front of roaring fires with her family…my family, I guess…over Christmas. They would drink cocoa and roast s’mores. I would hide in the doorway and watch. One time, I was caught and locked up alone for the rest of the holidays for breaking the rules. But I was still drawn to watch what I couldn’t have.”
“You can have it now.” Bird crawls to sit opposite me, until our knees are touching. “You’ll always have it.”
I glance at Phantom.
He nods.
My throat is tight. “Then burn, little marshmallow.”
“I love it when you become all dominant.” Bird laughs.
I move the stick with the soft, white marshmallow toward the flames like it’s the most important mission that I have ever had, rotating it. The surface becomes golden and starts to blister.
I sigh in delight at the sweet, smoky scent.
Joker clatters into the lounge, carrying a metal tray of steaming mugs.
Joker is wearing army fatigues.
“Cocoa!” He declares. “No campfire stakeout is complete without it.”
Phantom takes a mug from the tray. Then Joker ducks down to offer the drinks to Bird.
“You’re the best, Honey.” Bird grabs a mug, taking a long slurp. “Ouch, hot but yummy.”
“Like me. Need me to blow on it…?” Joker offers in a sultry tone.
“You can blow on something else later,” Bird teases.
“This Omega of ours is becoming feisty. I like it.” Joker kisses Bird on the top of his curls.
Then he places the final mug next to me.
“Thanks.” I glance away from the fire.
“Too close.” Joker gestures at the skewered marshmallow.
“I know what I’m doing,” I reply automatically.
Bird hides his smile behind his mug.
“So, that’s not your s’more catching fire then?” Joker’s eyes sparkle with amusement.
“What? Fuck…” I glance back at the marshmallow, as its edges catch fire in a burst of orange and blue.
A flame dances on its tip like a torch, before the s’more cracks and blackens.
I snatch the s’more away from the fire, shaking it. “Still edible.”
