We couldn't think of a title, so we'll change it later

[John Callaghan]

Thing between AU Roo (Named Jennifer in the timeline) and AU John...

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Lieutenant-Colonel John Callaghan
First Battalion, First Marines

1700
RAAF Base Amberley
Australia, 2011

The First Battalion of the First Marines had been deployed to Australia for 6 months, to both train themselves, and help train new Australian Marines. So far, they’d been here for little over a month. Already, they had had much training.

John had just returned from a 2-week training in the outback. Four days marching, six days of survival training, and then four days marching home. The Colonel was ready for a few days of rest. While he immensely enjoyed himself, he did like to do nothing now and then.

Callaghan walked over the base with a certain swagger. It had been a long time since Americans had occupied a space on this base, but the people seemed to be no less welcoming. He felt a slight grumble coming from his stomach. It appeared that he was hungry…

So, the Colonel walked over to the mess facilities and got some dinner. He couldn’t tell what it was even if his life depended on it, but it was warm and the others hadn’t died of it yet. With his plate of grub in one hand, he approached a table with a lone woman sitting at it.

”Afternoon. Mind if I join ya?” he asked. He tried to hide his Southern accent, but he wasn’t doing a great job of it. It wasn’t that he wasn’t proud of his heritage. He just didn’t want people he first met to get the impression that he was another American Redneck...

[Chicago "Roo" Eastlyn]

Flight-Lieutenant Jennifer Mulholland
No. 82 Wing, No 1. Squadron

1700
RAAF Base Amberley
Australia, 2011

Jen had not the foggiest clue of where her brother had disappeared off to after their drills, he’d just vanished. Gone. Not that she could complain really, she’d done the same thing plenty of times before. Being siblings was tough. Being siblings in the force was tougher. Being siblings in the force that flew together was the epitome of tough, at least for them it could be. Sometimes you could get abit...stifled. Which is why - it seemed - Jen was eating alone. Not that she had a problem with being alone, just that she liked to be prepared for it - she could’ve brought a book with her.

Seeing no reason to hang around the mess, Jen took a few bites of her food, pushing the rest of it around with her fork while she contemplated how hungry she was. The food wasn’t bad, truly...it could just use a little help in the looks department sometimes. Further thoughts about food and the appearance of food and all the junk food she would buy next time she had R’n’R were cut off by the arrival of someone at her table. The Flight Lieutenant offered a small shrug, ” ‘s a free country” - cue rank and namestrip check - ”Lieutenant-Colonel Callaghan.” No doubt now he’d probably comment on her pronunciation of Lieutenant, as near on all Americans did. Not particularly feeling like having that conversation, but not liking the fact that it’d be rude to leave just as the man sat down, Jen felt the need to ask curiously, ”If you don’t mind my asking, what are you here for? We don’t often see Americans around.”

[John Callaghan]

Lieutenant-Colonel John Callaghan
First Battalion, First Marines

1702
RAAF Base Amberley
Australia, 2011

John sat down. The woman looked at John's collar insignia and his nametape, apparently, because she was able to call John by his rank an name. He looked for her own things. Two stripes. "Flight Lieutenant Mulholland?" he asked, not being entirely sure.

John took a few bites from the reddish grub. It didn't taste all that bad. He took a sip from his canteen to wash it all down. Then he answered the woman's question. "Well, we're here for two reasons. The first is training my men and myself. The second is training your would-be Marines..." he said, chuckling. The Australian Marines were hardly worthy of the title 'Marine', but they had spirit and they were trying their best. Which was all that he could ask for.

"So what's a pretty woman like yourself done that makes her eat alone?" John asked, smiling friendlily.

[Chicago "Roo" Eastlyn]

Flight-Lieutenant Jennifer Mulholland
No. 82 Wing, No 1. Squadron

1705

Jennifer shrugged and nodded half-heartedly at his questioning of her name, mostly because of the way he said it (Loo-tenant...like, really now), but he was adult enough to not bring up the way she pronounced his rank, so Jen extended him the same courtesy.

A mischievous glint settled in her eyes, ”How was the desert, did you have fun? It’s good in there, hey?” As Callaghan spoke about training their “would-be Marines”, she wasn’t sure if she was imagining traces of superiority that seemed to leak through his words. Excuse the Australian Army for not having a Marine Corps. ”And how did you find our “would-be” Marines?” she asked with more than a little bite in her voice, making finger quotes in the the air with her fingers in reference to her countrymen in Marine training. ”Did we pass muster?”

The lieutenant surveyed the mass of people sitting amongst the sea of tables. ”Oh, you know..this and that,” she smirked to herself before turning her attention back to her food. ”When people know not to mess with you, mess companions and unexpected visitors are far and few between.”

<Tag: John Callaghan>

[John Callaghan]

Lieutenant-Colonel John Callaghan
First Battalion, First Marines

1702
RAAF Base Amberley
Australia, 2011

The desert... "It's certainly different than Virginia, I'll give you that" he said, chuckling. Sure, it could get nice and warm, but as it turned out this only happened when he was somewhere else entirely. "It's not very much different from Kuwait, Afghanistan or Iraq, though. And I've spent more time in those sandboxes than I care to count." another chuckle escaped. It was true, though. Four months Kuwait. Then two months Iraq when they invaded that place. Several tours of Afghanistan and Iraq after that.

"Your boys got spirit, at least. Which is a good start" John said.

"Well, this is the first time I've actually eaten here, so I can't really tell who I shouldn't eat with... I just prefer less people to full tables. My first two weeks here I barely had any time to eat at all. Logistics are a bitch if you're moving a whole Battalion, you know? And then we went on a two-week exercise in the desert." he stated. In those first two weeks he was glad to get a couple of crackers out of his MREs. "Anyway, what might 'this and that' be?" he asked, a slight grin appearing on his face.