ORP: Home on the Range

The whole 'shooting thing' was actually going better than Farrah had assumed. While she wasn't a prodigy - she was still a rather quick study, and actually hitting the targets. After a quick lesson from Adam on how to touch up her skills, he suggested a quick break - leading them over to some chairs and a mini-fridge.

A large grin spread across her features, as well as a slight pink tint to her cheeks, as Adam complimented her, "Thanks. I'm a bit of a quick study. That's why I have a Ph.D," she winked, before laughing, "Though having a teacher that actually knows what he's doing helps a bit too."

Laughing as Adam informed her that they should avoid the alcohol while practicing, Farrah glanced over at him, "Ya meaning getting pissed while playing with guns is a bad idea?" feigned sarcasm dripping over her words.

Farrah popped open the mini-fridge, locating a bottle of water, before glancing over her shoulder, "Want anything?" she asked, as she opened the bottle of water and took a drink.

Sitting down in one of the chairs, she glanced out at the landscape, "I have to say, Adam, I am really damn jealous of this place," she sighed, "I always loved forests and such. Just never really had time to...be in one."

Farrah mindlessly played with the cap of her water - watching Adam speak about this place. He clearly loved it here, too. Even without him confirming her thoughts, she could see it on his face. Instead of the hardened expression he often carried on missions - his expressions were softer - even boyish-type grins cracking through the surface every once in awhile. As he continued speaking, however, the topic began to hint towards something she was rather trying to avoid - causing her to toy with her cap a bit more - eyes sliding away from his face and back to the trees.

Ah yes - the trees would save her from awkward conversation.

The question held in the air for a moment. A rather uncomfortable moment.

How was she?

Well she was a psychologist who spent year and years studying this question. The problem was that the question is meant for other people - not her. There's an ongoing joke within the psychologist community - that the people who need a shrink the most, are shrinks. "You need to be a little crazy to listen to everyone's problems."

Now here she was, a rather good friend asking the question that she was meant to.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced over at Adam, before sliding her gaze to her feet - a slight smile pulling at her lips.
"Well - I guess with my lack of immediate answer says more than I can," she laughed under her breath, before finally pulling her eyes to his, "I'm...alright, I guess. I mean..." she sighed, eyes pulling away from his once more, "No - no...I'm not. Why did they have to die? I don't understand how everyone is being calm about the fact that they were murdered in front of us," her voice growing more quiet - eyes glued to the space just above her feet, "I got to know one of them, by the way. Ramirez. He didn't speak much English at all, but I still got to know him. He loved dogs. His favorite color was deep green. He just wanted some beef stew," she felt her eyes grow a bit glassy, causing her to glance away from Adam even further.

"I guess...I'll get over it. I mean there are people who I've helped who have seen hundreds of people die - some by their own hands. And they can survive. Then so can I."

Farrah was the sort of person who helped people. She enjoyed seeing other people happy and generally just being able to fix whatever was wrong. It's why she loved birthdays (of other people), and Christmas. She got to throw herself at making people happy - and actually had an excuse to do so. As a child, she'd always be the friend that people would come talk to about their problems. They would pour their heart out to her, and she'd help however she could. The more psychology classes she began taking, the more she accepted that she could simply deal with her own problems, and help others with theirs. Whenever Farrah had her own problems, she'd simply bury it until she had time alone. Then she'd end up either talking to herself until it was all sorted - or cry into a pillow until the emotions no longer mattered. As dramatic as it sounded, it was how she functioned for most of her life. When she dated, she often had her boyfriend or girlfriend get mad at her for 'not sharing' - but then if she did open up, she'd be frustrated when they'd switch the topic back to themselves.

Venting was rare for her - especially when she was overseas. How could she complain when she was dealing with men who had watched their best friend's head get caved in by the enemy? So she didn't. She learned that if one smiled enough, eventually she'd forget the bad feelings and move on.

As she sat next to Adam - watching the annoyingly beautiful trees sway in the wind, however, she vented. She let the words slip past her lips and out into the fresh air. Part of her wanted to stop - but another part of her didn't. While it hurt to think about the buried images and thoughts, it was also a bit relieving. Like throwing up tainted food. Once it was out - it was out. Not in. While she wasn't free from the burden, having another person listen to her words felt...nice. She was far from smiling or laughing - but a sense of stress was pulled off of her shoulders.

A fear also lurked in the relief. She now appeared what many would consider 'weak' in front of an army man. Though Adam was a rather nice man, he still could easily shoot her down or brush it off. Farrah knew that it touched her more than him. Anyone on the team, really. She was the bleeding heart. The small fragile creature. The civilian. Judging by everyone's attitude towards the NID, some were probably happy when it exploded.

Eyes glued to the area just next to her feet, she felt the emotions ball up inside her all at once. A physical pull that made her eyes brim with tears and her heart pound uncomfortably.

Maybe this job was too much for her.

A hand suddenly touched her shoulder - a thumb slowly rubbing the base of her neck. The woman took a shaky breath to try to regain her composure - a hand lifting to wipe away the tears that were still held in place by her lower lids. She felt his arm move around her and pull her closer to him. Her head resting on his shoulder, she felt the weight of his head leaning on hers. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed into the position and remained silent.

She just wanted to watch the trees, feel the warmth and comfort of being held, and enjoy the fact that he actually smelled nice.

After several moments had passed in silence, she quietly took another deep breath and whispered, "Thank you," she watched the trees for another moment before continuing, "For the gun training. For paying for my ticket over here. For...actually asking me if I'm okay. Doesn't happen often as a professional listeners," she laughed quietly, "...and just generally being an amazing human. Thank you."

Eyes focused on the trees swaying in the distance, Farrah felt an odd sense of peace. While she was dealing with a rather heavy load and honestly struggling to cope with it...this stupid little moment was helping. Just the act of someone asking how she was set off her ever-building powder keg of emotions. And instead of belittling her - instead of brushing it off or informing her that her problems were nothing compared to his - he held her. A simple arm around the shoulders brought her into his warmth and a head resting atop hers held her in place. Some part of her never wanted to move. In this place in this moment - nothing was wrong. No helicopters were exploding. No work stressors nor excessive dangers. No. For once, the world was at peace and everything was okay.

A smile pulled at her lips, as the tears finally stopped threatening to flow - Adam remarking about his reputation.
"I technically can't see anything," she reminded him, her voice still a bit faint, "You're just a warm, nice smelling thing I happen to be leaning again."

After a few more moments, he spoke again - his voice more serious.
"You're welcome, Farrah. But you'll never have to thank me."

At that, Farrah pushed herself out from under his chin, so she was able to sit up slightly - though she remained close enough for his arm to remain around her.

"Not need to thank you?" her voice honestly confused, "Adam...since I've come to the state, you've done more for me than anyone. Hell - you've done more for me today alone then most of my friends have ever done for me. Plus don't think I have forgotten about you saving my ass on the last mission. They probably would have done some...horrible things to me, if you hadn't claimed me," she smiled warmly, "So I will thank you if I want to. Thank you Adam Collier for being..."

Being what?
Nice?
Good?
Perfect?
Amazing?
No.

"For being you."

<TAG: Adam "Sly" Collier>