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One of the few downsides of foreign postings and being out from under the watchful eye of the bureaucrats in Washington was paperwork. It wasn't all sunny skies, glamorous parties, glorious views and rich new culture. That was part of it - and some of Hawk's favourites, he would concede - but most days the endless reams of paperwork eclipsed all else.
Not that Hawk was complaining. Egypt might not have been his first choice of a foreign assignment - he had always seen himself in the Mediterranean somewhere, Italy or Greece, places filled with the personal freedoms Hawk longed for. But now that Hawk was here, he would endure endless paperwork and the annoyance of having to pretend that any of his colleagues (Mary excepted, of course) were tolerable, just to be allowed to stay.
Of course, that didn't mean that Hawk didn't still wish that he could spend his valuable time doing anything else.
Outside, the sky was a perfect blue, cloudless and dazzling. It made the adventurous part of Hawk that had awoken since his arrival in Egypt wish that he was out there, making the most of it.
And, for that, Hawk entirely blamed-
Knock, knock. "Hawk?"
Speak of the angel...
Hawk looked up from one of the meaningless memos Washington sent out just to make his life miserable, not bothering to smother the immediate smile that curled his lips.
"Mr Laughlin," he greeted, as private and fond as he would have uttered his usual Skippy. "What brings a noted scholar to my office today? More ghost stories to tempt me with?"
Tim's smile curved, bright and eager, his Skippy leaning against the doorframe in a light linen suit.
Neutral tones and breathable fabric like that meant that Tim was intending on being out and about today. Not buried in his books and research.
"It's market day," Tim beamed, excitement clear from across the small but comfortable office. "You promised you'd come with me this time."
Hawk wished he could say he didn't remember promising, but he did. And Hawk remembered exactly how Tim had extracted that promise too.
Hawk drew in a deep breath, searching for the right words to gently let Tim down. But then he looked up and Tim was in front of his desk. Tim's soft doe eyes were luminous, pleading and hopeful in a way that made all Hawk's carefully chosen words flee like specks of dust carried on the wind.
"This market better be spectacular, Skippy," Hawk said severely, holding back a smile at Tim's joyful grin.
Despite the paperwork calling Hawk's name with the strength of his responsibilities behind it, Hawk rose to his feet and joined Tim in front of his desk.
Tim darted in and pressed a lightning fast kiss to Hawk's lips. He was there one moment and back to standing in front of Hawk the next. So quick that only the tingling of Hawk's lips said it had ever happened at all.
"Skippy," Hawk warned lightly. For show, only ever for show - he loved kissing Tim far too much to ever truly object. And he was far enough from Washington now that he was a little less... rigid in his boundaries.
Besides, here in his office, there was no one to see. No one to care that Tim had stolen a kiss from Hawk.
"Market day," Tim said, pulling away from Hawk with a frown of unhappiness. "You'll enjoy it."
Hawk lifted the fedora from his hat stand, settling it on his head with a wink at Tim. "Lead on, then, Mr Laughlin."
The market was... overwhelming. A riot of noise and colour. English and musical languages Hawk was slowly learning flooded his ears, calling his attention left and right. Sample this delicacy, talk to this vendor. Bright colours and exotic smells and people. So many people.
Hawk didn't know quite what to make of it.
The little part of his brain that still lived in the war wasn't urging him to run. There was no feeling of danger. This was just so different to anything Hawk had seen before. Nothing at all like the polite distance and neutrality of the markets he had experienced as a boy.
Hawk lingered by a fabric stall, making a mental note to check back when he had to buy something for Mary or his mother's birthdays. Mary would enjoy the rich fabric and bold colours (despite her pretense that she didn't), and his mother would enjoy parading the gift around her friends and siblings, showing what her son had sent her from his foreign posting.
But future presents weren't Hawk's sole motivation for lingering. Out in public, he couldn't be as free to watch Tim as he liked, but watching Tim was one of his favourite things. The way he lost himself in conversation, his honest joy in discovering new things - it was captivating. And Hawk had never been good at denying himself the things he enjoyed - not without a very good reason, at least.
Here, in Egypt, on a bustling market day, Hawk felt free enough to let himself - discreetly - watch the man who had shown him that the darkness of the past didn't dim the light of the future. The man who was the light in his future.
Tim was at least dozen people and a few stalls ahead of him, gesturing as he spoke with the vendor, his face eager and shining with enthusiasm.
Hawk drifted closer, weaving through the crowd, his eyes never leaving Tim's face.
Brown eyes caught Hawk's, Tim nodding further into the market. Hawk followed where Tim nodded, absently buying two of something delicious and spicy as he went. Tim was always extolling the virtues of local cuisine, Hawk knew he'd appreciate the thought. Not that Tim wasn't capable of feeding himself, but Hawk liked the thought of taking care of his Skippy.
When Hawk caught up with Tim, he handed Tim one of the stuffed breads he'd bought. Tim took a bite immediately, humming with delight as the flavours burst over his tongue. Hawk followed suit, almost annoyed he hadn't bought more.
Hawk decided to pretend he didn't notice Tim hiding something from his view. Tim liked his surprises and Hawk was feeling indulgent enough to let his angel have his way.
They finished eating quickly, weaving between stalls and shoppers, enjoying the atmosphere like only tourists could.
"Thank you," Tim smiled, wiping his fingers on the handkerchief Hawk held out for him. Only one hand, the other holding a hat by his side. Darker than Tim's usual style, but sturdy and stylish in a way that Hawk's eye appreciated.
With a grin, Tim led Hawk off to the side, finding them somewhere quiet and secluded the way he always seemed to be able to.
Hawk half expected Tim to kiss him, to whisper something sweet and loving. To thank him for coming here with him when they both knew Hawk had work that demanded to be done.
Tim looked around, satisfying himself that they were alone - the sound of the marketplace hiding them from anyone who might overhear or snoop. His hand raised, fingers brushing lightly against Hawk's cheek. Just for a moment, Hawk feeling the words Tim knew he wouldn't let him say.
Hawk closed his eyes, holding back the urge to pull Tim into his arms where he always belonged.
Tim removed the fedora from Hawk's head, settling the one he'd bought in it's place.
Before Hawk could do more than blink his eyes open, Tim had stepped back, regarding Hawk with a critical eye.
"Much better," Tim smiled, his eyes twinkling as he sat Hawk's fedora on his floppy hair. "This one's mine now."
Hawk couldn't have kept his smile from his lips if he'd tried. "It suits you."
Tim's ducked his gaze, a light blush staining his cheeks. Hawk wanted to kiss him, to feel the warmth of his cheeks against his palms. To have Tim cradled in his arms.
But, it was broad daylight. Such thoughts would have to wait until he was alone with Tim tonight.
Until then...
Hawk led Tim back into the bustling market, asking curiously, "How is your research coming?"
Tim's eyes lit up, beginning to tell Hawk all about an offhand mention he'd read in an obscure history and how it might pertain to the research he was doing.
Hawk watched Tim talk, listening as always like Tim was the only voice he heard. He didn't know why he'd been given such a gift as Tim Laughlin, but he was never going to stop being grateful for it. Even if Tim did insist on chasing down obscure ghost stories and dragging Hawk into it too.