I managed to get through the day of training with the cadets without seeing Levi again. Even though we were going to be forced to join our squads, I could avoid him up until the very moment Erwin forced that to happen.

Later that evening, I sat alone beside one of the fires that had been lit across the courtyard, a bottle of lukewarm beer held loosely in my hand. I took a swig of the alcohol, ignoring the yelling and laughing of the cadets that were gathered in tight knit groups around the other bonfires, and prayed silently that Hange wouldn't come looking for me. She had mentioned something earlier, after training, about wanting to talk with me about something important, but at this point, I just wanted to finish my drink and go the hell to sleep. It had been a long, strange day.

I glanced up as a group of rowdy cadets, drinks in hands, stumbled past me, their arms around each other's shoulders as they loudly laughed at something one of them had said. I was about to tune them all out again and take another long draught from the bottle in my hand, when I noticed Johnson walking alone a short distance behind the raucous group, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, Johnson." I called out to him and he glanced over at me, confusion on his face until he recognized me in the flickering light from the fire. He stopped walking, watching me take another drink from the beer bottle, before I asked, "Alone tonight?"

He took a few steps toward me, coming closer to the fire, and began to warm his hands over the flames as he nodded. "Mory's in bed. And the rest of the squad is hanging out with Jaeger." He glanced up from the fire, his eyes wide, as he realized again who he was talking to, and quickly added, "Corporal.....sir....ma'am."

"Lighten up, Johnson. Training's over for the day." I rolled my eyes at him and leaned over to pick up an unopened bottle of alcohol that sat at my feet. I held the bottle out for him and he glanced down at it, hesitating, as his eyes flicked back up to my face. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you want a drink or not?"

He stood still for a brief second more and then reached out, taking the bottle from my fingers. He sat down next to me on the large log I was perched on, and popped the cap off the beer, raising the alcohol to his lips as he took a long sip, his eyes focused on the flames that flickered in front of us.

We drank in silence for a moment before I glanced over at him and, against my better nature, asked, "Why are you here, Johnson?"

He looked over at me in surprise, his eyes holding that usual deer in the headlights look they always had when he spoke to me, and said nervously, "I was just on my way back to the barracks for the night...."
I waved my hand at him. "No, you idiot. I know why you're here." I flicked my fingers at the scene before us, filled with cadets and bonfires and barracks. "Why are you here? In the survey corps?"

He dropped his gaze from mine, twiddling the neck of the beer bottle nervously between his long fingers for a moment before he said in a low voice, "Sometimes, I really don't know."

"Mmm." I took another swig of my beer. "I think that's a common feeling among the scouts, to be honest. Even if no one will ever admit it."

He straightened and glanced over at me, curiosity flashing across his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but took a long drink of his beer instead, as if to take a moment to gain courage. He lowered the bottle from his lips, his blue eyes, which were so much darker in the night, flicking between my face and the flames before he finally asked quickly, "Did you ever feel that way when you joined, Corporal?"

I scoffed slightly. "Do you know where I came from, Johnson?" When he didn't respond, I glanced over at him, my eyes scanning his face as he avoided my direct gaze. "Come on. I know you've heard the stories by now."

"Well, I..." He set his beer down at his feet and turned to face me slightly, seeming to gain courage from the fact that I hadn't told him to shut up yet. He clenched his hands between his knees as he leaned forward a bit. "I've heard them. Are they true?"

I gave him a half smile. "All true." I watched surprise flit across his face and couldn't help but laugh a bit at his disbelief. "What? You didn't think someone like me could come from the Underground?"

"No! I mean...I just...." He stumbled over his words for a second. "You're really pretty is all." His face instantly flushed crimson as soon as the words left his lips. "No! I mean, what I meant was....you're not what I thought....you don't look like..."

I laughed in amusement at his discomfort. "Yeah, well, you're not the first to say that. People expect that if you grew up in the Underground as a kid, you're just going to be eternally filthy and disgusting the rest of your life." I raised an eyebrow at him and motioned to myself. "But I mean, come on. That's obviously not the case. Right, Johnson?" I asked him pointedly, a teasing smirk flashing across my lips.

He blushed again and cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at me as he muttered under his breath, "Yes, Corporal."

I grew serious again, downing the last of my beer before I threw the glass bottle to the ground at my feet. I glanced over at Johnson, who still looked a little pink, and then said, "But seriously. No. I never felt like that, to answer your question. I came here from the worst place imaginable. I was just glad to be anywhere else, even if I had just joined a group whose members died more often than they lived."

I stared into the flickering flames in front of me, my mind elsewhere, until Johnson said quietly from beside me, "I'm sorry, Corporal. I didn't mean to pry."

I brought my gaze back to his and gave him a slight smile as I straightened, stretching my arms over my head to get the kinks out of my back. "It's fine, Johnson. It's not a secret." I leaned down and picked up another bottle of beer, popping the lid off and throwing it into the fire before taking a long drink of the warm liquid.

I lowered the bottle, wiping my hand across my mouth, and then said, "Johnson, there's something I wanted to ask you."
He shifted slightly and glanced over at me, his face uncertain. "Yes, Corporal?"

I didn't look at him, instead, I leaned forward, propping my elbows on my knees as I stared into the dying fire. "Commander Smith wants Corporal Ackerman and I to combine squads. For good." I saw him shift uncomfortably out of the corner of my eye. "I can bring my best cadets with me over to the new squad." I straightened and finally looked over at him, raising an eyebrow at him. "I want you to come with me."

His mouth dropped open briefly in surprise, but he snapped his jaw shut quickly, confusion furrowing his brow as he said, "Why?"

I stood from the fire, the bottle of beer still held in my hand, and held it up for him to see. "You caught me on a good night." I dropped the bottle back down to my side and looked at him seriously. "But truthfully, you're the best on our squad, Johnson. And I'd be a fool not to see that by now. And besides," I walked around the log and past him, slapping him gently upside the back of the head as I moved by. "You're the one out of all of those idiots that I don't hate quite as much."

I headed away from the fire, toward the officer's quarters, when he called out after me. "Corporal, wait!"

I stopped walking and turned as he jogged up to me, his dusky golden hair hanging over his brow and obscuring his blue eyes, which appeared black in the shadows of the night air. He hesitated for a moment, standing before me, and then stuck out a hand, saying briskly, "Thank you for the opportunity, Corporal."

I slapped my hand into his, and for a brief moment, I noticed how his touch differed so much from that of Levi's. When Levi's hand brushed mine, it was cool, his fingers long and clean, his touch as unreadable as his expression. But when my hand was in Johnson's, I noticed that he had large, rough hands, warm and strong, the hands developed from growing up in a farming community.

I pulled my hand out of his, the handshake growing uncomfortably long while I had been lost in my thoughts, and cleared my throat. He looked down, clearly uncomfortable, until I said sternly, "Fine. You can thank me this once. But not again, Johnson. I told you, it makes me nervous when you idiots thank me for things."

He nodded. "Yes, Corporal."

I turned on my heel and headed off for the officers' quarters, surprised that I had just spent my night off with one of my idiotic cadets, and yet, I didn't feel as if it had been wasted.

It must be the alcohol.