Prompt: #82 Feast
Word count: 200
Pairing: Ian, Alan
Summary: Ian doesn't trust pastrami.
Notes: Written for numb3rs100, part of A Silk Pillow ‘verse.
Pastrami Paranoia (#82 Feast)
Alan watched as Ian picked through his sandwich.
“Sorry, I don’t trust pastrami sandwiches.”
“You don’t trust them?”
Ian shrugged. “Pastrami sandwich got me into the Army. I don’t want to end up in the foreign legions next.”
“How does a sandwich get you into the army?”
Ian ate the pickles he had picked out. “Hadn’t eaten in three days. Recruiter lured me in with half a pastrami sandwich, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, on wheat, and I got the other half as a signing bonus.”
“You joined the Army, for a sandwich?”
“I was hungry Alan, three weeks on the street, no clothes for winter and the only job offer was from a pimp and I was close to taking it. The recruiter promised three meals a day. I would have signed anything.”
Alan looked at Ian broad and tan picking the crust off his bread. “I have a hard time picturing you like that.”
Ian actually laughed “My first six months in the Army I put on 57 pounds and to everyone’s surprise grew four inches. Other guys were bitching about missing home cooking, I was licking my tray. Saved my life.” Ian finished quietly. “Still don’t trust pastrami though.”