This story is a bit late: I told Marie1964 that I would write a slash-themed story concerning Newkirk and (unknowingly) Colonel Hogan. Unfortunately, due to real life I put it off until now...a year late, LOL! Originally, I was going to do one short story in this theme. After some thought, I decided to write a series of short vignettes.
Life is just bloody awful, isn't it?
Peter Newkirk inhaled the last of his cigarette before letting a stream of blue smoke flow out of his lungs. With practiced hands, he carefully snuffed out the last of his cigarette before putting the remaining stub away. He really didn't need to save it, of course; there were plenty of cigarettes left over from the last Red Cross package. Still, it was just habit.
Four years, he reflected. I've been here for more than four bloody years.
The RAF Corporal's cynical eyes slowly swept the rough courtyard. Men in various uniforms dotted the rough landscape; a few of these played games while the rest kept themselves busy. Beyond that was the wire fencing and the guard towers that dominated all life in Stalag 13. And beyond that...
The only thing that's really free around here is the sky.
Peter nodded once to himself before he pulled another cigarette out of his pocket. He lit the tip and savored the hard vapors the paper cylinder produced. In truth, it was more of a distraction than anything else. The recent murder of fifty escapees from Stalag Luft III had brought a halt to all sabotage operations. With the exception of rescuing downed Allied fliers - and even that was chancy enough - there was little to do.
At that moment, a man stepped through the nearby barracks door. Like Newkirk, he took a position on the barracks wall before scanning the camp with his pensive eyes. Oddly, the newcomer was unaware of a second set of eyes that glanced surreptitiously in his direction. Peter Newkirk raised the cigarette to his lips and took a long drag before letting his breath explode in one tremorous sigh.
I love him, he thought. And he'll never know it.
A/N: Stalag Luft III was the site of the infamous Great Escape that occured on March 24, 1944. 50 of the escapees were eventually shot by the Gestapo.