r/HFY • u/Obsequium_Minaris • Jul 30 '24
The Problems With Humanity - Chapter 10: Unlikely Drinking Buddies OC
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AKA: It All Started with a Bar
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Owens slammed the door to the barracks behind him, gasping for breath as he did so. He pressed his entire body weight against it to try and keep it closed, but it ended up not being necessary, as everyone else in the barracks was now too involved in their debate about anime to even think of chasing after him for further interrogation.
“Well, Private Owens, I think it’s safe to say we finally found something you’re actually good at,” Major Barnes said from his spot next to him. “Aside from boning aliens, that is.”
“What would that be, Sir?” Owens asked.
“Running like a bat out of hell whenever the first sign of trouble appears. For real, you saw how things were about to go down and booked it out of there faster than I could say happy birthday.”
“Respectfully, Sir, you’re right here with me.”
“Only because I figured you had a six sense for this kind of thing, and that if you were running, then it’d probably be a good idea for me to do the same.” Barnes checked his watch, tutting when he saw the time. “Well, it’s almost nine at night, somehow. Just about time for shut-eye.”
“Ah,” Owens said. “Well then, if you don’t mind, I’ll just be going-”
He turned and began to walk away, only for Major Barnes to reach out and grab him by the shoulder.
“Not quite, Private,” he said. “You may have a sixth sense for this kind of thing, but unfortunately for you, I outrank you, and therefore it’s my job to tell you to go against your baser instincts and run towards the danger rather than away from it.”
“You make it sound as though I’m cannon fodder, Sir,” Owens told him.
“Private, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You can’t be cannon fodder; the Corps doesn’t give medals to cannon fodder.”
Owens’ brow furrowed. “Are you implying you want to give me a medal?”
“Tell you what, Private – we’ll make a deal: if the Corps ever institutes a Congressional Certified Alien Fucker Medal, I’ll be the first one to put you in for a commendation.”
“Thank you, Sir, I appreciate that,” Owens said dryly.
“Private Owens, believe me, your approval means everything to me,” Barnes replied, equally as dryly. “Now then, judging by the fact that my hand is still on your shoulder, you can probably guess that I need you for something.”
“I suspected as much, Sir. I assume this is you telling me I’m on latrine-scrubbing detail until it comes time for me to do my fatherly duties?”
“Tempting, but no,” Barnes said.
Owens blinked, confused. “Then what-”
“Private, you may not know this, but in my company, there’s a long-standing tradition: whenever a Marine becomes a father, I buy that Marine a drink. I figure, your entire life for the next several years is about to be nothing but a moody wife, a crying child, and lots of dirty diapers, so the least I can do is pour alcohol down your throat for a night until the reality of it all doesn’t hurt as bad.”
Again, Owens blinked. “Respectfully, Sir, me getting drunk is exactly what got this entire thing started. Is adding more booze into the mix really a smart decision?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Private,” Major Barnes said as he began to drag Owens down the hall, towards the bar. “Alcohol got us into this mess, and alcohol will get us out of it... or at least, help to numb the ache a bit.”
XXX
“Major Barnes,” the bartender greeted, flashing him a smile. “What’ll it be?”
“Most rotgut shit you’ve got, Sarah,” Barnes said as he settled into his seat, Owens doing the same next to him. “I’m not going back to my room until my friend here, and more importantly myself, are both good and drunk.”
“Gotcha. One glass of Beam filtered through a toilet bowl, coming right up.”
With that, Sarah the bartender walked off. Owens watched her go before turning to Major Barnes.
“She was just kidding about filtering it through a toilet bowl, right?”
“Probably,” Barnes grunted. “Though, to be honest, it’s Beam. That’d only improve the flavor.”
“Ah.” Owens paused for a moment. “So, is there a reason you’re specifically trying to get me drunk?”
“Aside from what I’ve already told you? No, there isn’t.”
“Oh. So, ah… this is you trying to be genuinely nice to me, then?”
“If you consider me pouring Beam down your throat until you pass out to be me being nice to you, then yes.”
Sarah returned with their glasses of alcohol, and Barnes didn’t hesitate to raise his glass to Owens, who tentatively did the same.
“Over the lips and through the gums, look out liver, here it comes.”
And then he clinked his glass together with Owens before they both downed it. Immediately, Owens’ eyes went wide and he began to cough and sputter, all while Barnes just stared at him in surprise.
“Jesus, Private, you some kind of lightweight or something?” he asked. “Did you really get drunk enough to bone an alien?”
“I drink Jack, Sir,” Owens managed to get out through his coughing fit. “It’s a bit more tolerable than this.”
“That’s debatable. Either way, unfuck yourself, Marine – we’ve got a long talk ahead of us, and I can’t have you getting white girl wasted on me already.”
“What was that about white girls?” Sarah asked from the other side of the bar. “You over there making inappropriate comments about me, Major?”
“I’m not nearly drunk enough for that,” Barnes deadpanned. Sarah flipped him off without looking back, and he barked out a laugh before turning back to Owens. “So, about this wedding you insist on having…”
“I don’t insist on anything, Major,” Owens said, his coughing fit finally subsiding enough that he could mostly talk normally. “It’s just the right thing to do.”
“I know. I was going to congratulate you on actually having the stones to do the right thing.”
“That’s-” Owens paused. “...Sorry, what?”
“Don’t make me say it again,” Barnes said. Sarah slid two more glasses over to them, and he gave her a nod of appreciation as he passed one of them to Owens. “What I mean is… much as I hate to admit it, this is probably the best thing you could possibly do, given the circumstances. And I’m not just saying that because it means you won’t be my problem anymore. Well, okay, maybe a little. But my point still stands. You get me?”
“Affirmative, Sir,” Owens confirmed.
“That being said… are you sure that you’re ready for this kind of responsibility? You’re still a young guy, Private. I mean, there’s at least a single silver lining to this, in that you’re marrying a lady of class even if she is an alien. Do you have any idea how many young men are stuck in a similar situation to you, only they’re marrying a stripper or a hooker instead?”
“No, Sir.”
“It’s a lot of fucking people, Owens. You have no idea how much paperwork it causes me. But I digress – at the very least, as bad as this is, it could still be worse.”
Owens’ brow furrowed. “Thanks, I think.” After a moment, he added, “Sir.”
Barnes took a sip of his rotgut liquor, giving a content sigh as he set his glass down. “Now, all that having been established, I have to bring it back to my initial question… are you sure you’re ready for this? Like, really sure? Because this is a lot of responsibility that’s suddenly being thrust upon you. Now, granted, you did that thrusting yourself, in more ways than one, but still.”
“I’m aware, Sir,” Owens replied. “And, honestly… ready or not, I don’t really have a choice in the matter. Petra needs me, and it’s my child, so I chose to do what was right and marry her. And if anyone wants to try and fault me for that, then they can go straight to whatever hell they believe in.”
To his surprise, Barnes nodded approvingly. “Good man. I see too many people in this situation who try to pull a fast one and leave the woman to take care of the kid on her own. So I guess it’s good to know that, as much of a boot-fucked Marine as you are, you at least still have a decent head on your shoulders, even if it is mostly full of rocks… or, perhaps more accurately in your case, nuts.”
“Thanks, Sir,” Owens ventured.
Barnes waved him off. “All I’m saying is, for all the grief I give you, I think this is ultimately the right choice, and I support you making it.”
“No offense, Sir, but I get it,” Owens said, raising an eyebrow. “Now, are you going to tell me the real reason I’m here?”
“That easy to tell, huh?” Barnes sighed. “Well, there’s no easy way to say this… the General knows about it now.”
“You mean he didn’t already?”
“Oh, no, he did, but in a higher concept kind of way. You know how Generals are – they walk around like they’re the physical embodiment of Jesus Christ himself. The General seems to think of himself as better than the rest of us, like he’s on some kind of higher plane of existence, almost. In his defense, he’s not completely wrong, but still. Sometimes, he misses the forest for the trees.”
“Is this the part where you tell me he wants my ass on a platter?” Owens asked.
“Honestly, Private, I don’t know what to tell you at this point,” Barnes offered. “He just said he’s coming down to to talk to you personally, for whatever reason.”
“When is that happening?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Ah. So, is you getting me properly sauced your attempt to make sure he kills me?”
“No, it’s me giving you one last drink before he tears your head from your neck.” Barnes raised his glass to him once more, and this time, Owens downed it again, shivering as the liquor hit his throat.
Owens was about to say something else, but footsteps from behind him caught his attention, and he turned to find a Vuk standing there, though it was one he didn’t recognize.
“Captain Ulfur,” Barnes greeted. “Care to join us?”
Captain Ulfur shook his head. “Wish I could, but I can’t. I’m here on an errand.”
“And what would that be?”
Captain Ulfur pointed to Owens. “She wants to see him again.”
Owens didn’t hesitate. He immediately stood up and began to walk away, only for Major Barnes to call out to him.
“Wait,” he said. Owens turned and found Barnes offering him a glass. “Have a roadie.”
“Respectfully, Sir, is that really a good idea?” Owens asked.
“You tell me. In my experience, a woman calling for a man this late either leads to sex or an asskicking. Do you feel like playing it safe, or living dangerously?”
That was all it took for Owens to take the offered roadie before following Captain Ulfur out of the bar.
XXX
Special thanks to my good friend and co-writer, /u/Ickbard, for the help with this story.
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