Borrowed

"I know what you did last night," Mark said in a singsong voice as he stepped into the room where Bryan was working on a few sparring moves. The room was practically empty. Mark glanced around and could only see two other soldiers in the far corner.

Bryan's head snapped up, his eyes full of guilt. "I didn't do anything last night," he said. Even to his own ears, the denial was weak.

Marks laugh was low, his eyes glimmering with mirth, "don't kid yourself," he said, "you know exactly what you did."

Bryan swallowed hard, "you won't tell anyone will you?" he asked.

Mark's lips quirked into a half smile, "let's just say that I won't rat you out to the Commander. You are, after all, my brother. But if he finds out, I'm not covering for you," Mark said.

"Fair enough," Bryan said, "I don't think he will find out that I "borrowed" his car. And if he does, well lets just say that mastering this move will be the least of my problems."