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“With fists.”

“And a lot of cursing.”

Troy shook his head. “Never going to understand that.”

“You joined the wrong government organization then. Cram a bunch of guys together, and the testosterone will fly. When it does, that’s where we come in. Either because someone decided to settle a problem by throwing a fist or because some genius got the bright idea to dive into a pool from a second-story balcony,” Dean said with a grin.

“Didn’t someone do that last week?” Troy asked.

“Yep, forgot to aim for the deep end. Dumbass is lucky he only bumped his head instead of snapping his neck. God looks out for drunks, toddlers, and privates trying to show off, I swear,” Dean said with a shake of his head.

Troy glanced over Dean’s shoulder. “What are you up to anyway?”

“Pretending I’m going over the appointments for the week and resupplying.”

Troy sighed. “Probably a good idea. I don’t need old man Winter on my ass about not having enough supplies again.”

Dean frowned. “Don’t call him that. General Winter is probably in better shape than you despite being twice your age.”

“He’s also a hard ass.”

“Only to people who are a pain in his.”

Troy stuck out his tongue. “Kiss ass.”

Dean rolled his eyes, choosing not to dignify that accusation. While it was true he had a great deal of respect for General Winter, the man he reported to and the man in charge of Fort Dale, he didn’t see it as brown-nosing. He was the youngest general Dean had met, being in his early forties, and probably the youngest he’d heard of. Anyone capable of earning a high rank at such a young age was more than worthy of respect in Dean’s eyes.

Troy plopped down on the edge of the desk. “How long do you have?”

“Another hour,” Dean said, glancing at the clock on the screen.

Troy groaned. “I’m pulling a double.”

“I did that pretty much all last week. You’ll survive, I’m sure,” Dean said.

“What are you doing after you get off?”

“I’ve got a dinner date.”

Troy’s eyes widened with delight. “Oh? So I take it you and what’s his name worked out pretty good then?”

Dean scoffed. “Marco and I worked out three weeks ago and have been working out ever since. Where the hell have you been?”

“Apparently not in the loop,” Troy said, scooting forward.

Dean groaned, looking around, hoping to find something to distract Troy. It was ultimately futile, as there wasn’t anyone in the small, curtained-off cubicles for Dean to send Troy to checkon. The entire building was empty except for them, and Troy didn’t look like he would be dissuaded from being nosy.

“Are you guys serious yet?” Troy asked.

“After a few weeks? What is this, high school?” Dean asked dryly.

Troy snorted. “A few weeks is a perfectly reasonable amount of time to get to know someone well enough to say if you want to commit to something more serious.”

“Not when you’re constantly working double shifts, which, to be fair, Marco and I both do,” Dean pointed out.

Troy screwed up his face in thought. “True, I guess you are pretty busy. What’s he do again?”

“Tech consultant. He landed a nice position at one of the security companies further inland.”