(Authors' note: Warning for discipline. We have taken certain liberties with the acceptance of homosexual behavior in the Army at this time.
Original character Major Tess Riordan comes to us here courtesy of Flynn Anthony, author of several bazillion Supernatural Wincest stories, several of which have crossed into the Glee Donutverse. Please note Flynn holds formal copyright for Tess.
Lieutenant Carl Jesse Howell is largely an original creation of nubianamy, but those of you familiar with Glee will note that yes, he does grow up to be Dr. Carl Howell, DDS, aka "hot dentist," who plays the part of a professional Dom in the Donutverse and will eventually marry Emma in season 2. Jesse, as he is known here, is a free agent and can be played with at will. If you choose to use him, we'd love a nod and a credit.
Enjoy! -amy and flinchflower)
May 1991, Fort Irwin, California
"He what?" Tess bellowed, trying to refrain from smacking her cringing nurse.
"Major Riordan - Lieutenant Howell, he asked me out, ok? We had, ah, we had a good time?"
Tess sighed inwardly, but she maintained her stoic demeanor in front of the private. "MacIntyre. You've been on my service for what, three weeks?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then let me enlighten you. The man is a womanizing dilettante, MacIntyre. Ask around. I don't want to hear about you being off base, or late for duty because of him again."
"Yes, ma'am; thank you, ma'am." The woman snapped to a salute, and spun, the back of her neck red in a way that made Tess think she'd gotten to the girl. She stalked off, intent on hunting down Lieutenant Howell, and seeing if she could get somewhere with him this time.
As she moved into the barracks, she could hear him, and she quickened her step. He was lounging on Tarrington's bed with her and one of the helicopter pilots. By the adoring look Tarrington was bestowing him with, he was working on getting laid again, and the pilot was looking pretty keen too.
"You'd have to sneak away," he was saying, in his silky, persuasive voice, cocky smile firmly intact. "There's always the risk of being caught. But I can guarantee it'd be worth your while."
"Fall in for inspection," Tess hollered, standing firm in the doorway. The nurse scrambled off the bed, as did the pilot. They both snapped to attention at the end of the bunk, the nurse's hands buttoning and tugging her camo into place, even as the pilot smoothed down her jumpsuit. Howell showed no such alacrity, but stood and joined them at his leisure, taking in her stance and expectations with calculated disrespect.
"Lieutenant Howell," she barked. "I said attention!"
His lips twisted into a smirk. "Well, Major Riordan," he drawled, "I'm not exactly yours to inspect?"
Her fingers itched to smack the nonsense out of his too-pretty face, and she let herself think for just a brief second what he'd look like in Beau's hands.
"What does this look like to you, Lieutenant?" she asked smoothly, indicating the insignia on her uniform.
"That's an oak leaf, if I ever saw one... Major." In his voice, even the rank sounded raunchy. The helo pilot whimpered a little.
"That doesn't look like an oak leaf on your shoulder; that looks more like a butterbar to me. Stand at attention."
His eyebrows drew in in a pouty scowl, taking in her insult. "Begging your pardon, Major, but that's a silver bar, not a gold one." He drew his heels back and straightened his broad shoulders, tossing his too-long hair out of his face and gazing blandly at the wall. To an outside observer, he was following instructions, but it was pretty clear to Tess that he was mocking her with his "attention."
She looked him up and down, long and slow. "Perhaps, Howell, if you'd polished those silver bars to standard, I'd be able to see that they're silver, and not gold. Frankly, they're looking pretty brassy to me - maybe even like stripes."
The flashes of anger and sullen hurt that passed over his pretty face would have been easily missed, had Tess not been such a keen observer, but Howell didn't say anything. He deserved the slam; after his last several fuck-ups, demotion was not such a foreign possibility, though two ranks at once would be unlikely.
"On my six, Lieutenant, now." She turned, then barked over her shoulder at her nurse. "Tarrington, I want this room spotless when I come back. Floors are looking a little dusty to me."
"Yes ma'am!" Tess took some comfort in that, as she stepped out of the building. Tarrington was a good woman, usually responsible, and she was not going to see some lackwit playboy like Howell put her career in danger.
Howell fell into step behind her, as directed, though he seemed to lag behind a few paces. She ignored that, stepping briskly towards the office where she knew his CO would be seated, still wading through the miles of paperwork that landed on a person's desk after their unit returning stateside. Poor bastard. The unit's losses hadn't been that bad, and she'd seen a number of his boys in the medical unit for followup.
Tess nodded at his secretary. "Major Riordan to see Major Black, please," she said politely to the man.
"Yes ma'am." The secretary stood, saluted stiffly, and tapped on Black's office door.
"I don't want to fucking hear about it, Todd! I've got to move some of this stuff off my desk."
"Ah, sir? Major Riordan to see you. And..." the man looked like he had a bad taste in his mouth. "And Lieutenant Howell."
They heard a muttered "shit" from inside the office. "Show her in, Todd, and bring some damn coffee in here."
Tess gave the secretary a smile, and headed on in. The stacks of paperwork on his desk were truly impressive, and she shook her head. "I'm sorry to take your time, Major."
"It's been a long night already, Major, but I'm always willing to listen when it's important." He looked the lieutenant up and down with a weary, disdainful eye. "And clearly, it is. What's going on?"
"I look the other way regarding the occasional fraternization, Black, especially when a unit comes home. Your boy here, though, he's taking it to new levels. I think I've lost count of the nurses I've caught him feeling up, and y'all haven't been home that long. Not to mention..." she trailed off delicately, leaving the man an opening if he wanted it.
Black rubbed his face, and she caught the eye roll before his fingers pinched them closed. "We'll deal with that in a moment. Go on."
She raised a delicate eyebrow, and looked Howell up and down. "Frankly sir, your secretary has better attention to detail than your louie, here, wouldn't you say? And the insubordination... it's not a good example, not for my nurses, nor for anyone else on base."
The major rose to his feet from behind his mountain of paperwork. The tightness in his mouth didn't bode well for the lieutenant. "This isn't the first complaint I've heard about you this week, Howell. Frankly, I don't have the fucking time for your games right now." He glanced hopefully at Tess. "I'm full up... but I would remand him to your service until the end of the week, Major."
Tess blinked, and tilted her head, considering the possibilities. Three days, plus or minus a weekend, of ability to make the man less attractive in the eyes of her staff, and - "Sold, Major. Howell - Grab your gear, you'll bunk in with your rank mates in nursing barracks. I expect to see you outside this door with your C-bag by the time I'm through with the Major."
"Wait a second - this is ridiculous!" Howell's outraged objection was completely out of line, but naturally that didn't stop him from trying to argue with Tess. "I've got responsibilities - men under my command... and I'm already doing double shifts dealing with your lousy paperwork from the last time - what do you expect me to do about that if you're going to take me away from here?"
Tess shrugged. "We're down a few people, I could use the hand. 2nd Louies in the Nurse Corps have similar duties, nursing aside, and I'm missing one at the moment."
Howell glared back and forth between the two majors, but at last he sighed, gritted his teeth and stormed out of the office to gather his belongings.
"I heard what you weren't saying," Black said, low and tired. "He's got several things coming for disrespecting your nurses, and the other thing... well, he's not the first guy under my command to be coloring with both sides of the crayon." He gestured vaguely at the doorway. "What're you going to make him do?"
"He'll get a fair shake, Major Black, regardless of how annoyed I am with him. I intend to put him at the 1st Lieutenant's desk, and see if he can pick up the paperwork. The more crap I get, the lower he goes on the duty roster. I'll leave it up to him just how bad it gets - and it can go as low as bedpan duty. It won't hurt to make him less attractive to the nurses, and his image is going to be entirely in his own hands." She said the last with some satisfaction.
Black looked relieved, and more than satisfied. "That might just do the trick. He's not a bad man, Theresa - may I call you Theresa?" She nodded agreement, and he continued "- but he's not a very good soldier. He could use a firm kick in the pants."
Tess gave him a wry smile. "It's Tess, to folks that know me. And that I can provide, Major Black," she said.
"Call me Charlie," he said, smiling in return. "I hope your... leadership... will prove instructive to him."
Tess laughed out loud. "We'll see. And Charlie? Scuttlebutt has it that Major Flannigan has a number of 2nd louies who are ripe for promotion, but no openings for them - maybe you could have a word with him, and see if any of them might want a trial run with you."
His relief was palpable. "That sounds like exactly what I need. Thank you, Tess - for that, and for dealing with Jesse. I sure hope he shapes up before he makes a real mistake, one that'd cost him his commission."
"You're welcome, Charlie. It's part of my job to try and keep the lot of you healthy, hey? And hopefully it'll give me time to get under his skin, maybe have a conversation with him. We get that a lot in the Nurse Corps, nurses who are passionate about the caregiving, but not so hot at the military end of things. I've given that speech many times."
Charlie nodded soberly. "It's comforting to think that, somehow, he might still be a success."
Tess shook the man's hand, giving him another smile, and closing his door quietly behind herself.
"Todd," she said gently, not wanting to startle the... corporal, she recognized. Young then, to be a secretary, but likely to advance quickly, given his demeanor.
"Ma'am," the young man said, rising to his feet immediately, but not frantic or hurried. "How can I be of service?"
"Lieutenant Howell's service file, if you please."
"Yes ma'am," he said smartly, saluting. He turned and dug into a file cabinet - it was far neater than her own secretary's, and she gave an internal sigh. Black was lucky to have this guy, and she didn't begrudge him, not with the shit that the Major had been shoveling in the last year with deployment. "Your file, ma'am," he said, and she could see him hesitating.
"If I won't be in your way, I'd like to review it quickly, so it doesn't need to leave your office," she said quietly.
"No ma'am - please, have a seat," he replied, gesturing at the visitor's chair. "May I get you anything?"
"No, Corporal. And please, at ease," she said.
"Thank you, ma'am," the boy said, and she could see him relax, though his carriage didn't change. He returned his intense gaze to the computer, and Tess nodded to herself. Studying for his next rank examination.
The file was a mess. Lieutenant Howell had entered the Army in 1989 after graduation, fed in through the ROTC program. Well, there was the first clue. Needed the money, served his four year enlistment - a scholarship student then - with no outstanding issues, just the typical crap that wound up in just about every ROTC officer's file as they adjusted to military life, for which Tess had some sympathy. At least she'd had Beau, during her own first enlistment. Which... she wondered, thinking it over. His second enlistment - why the hell had he re-upped? - was where the problems started. He'd been advanced to 2nd Lieutenant in his first enlistment - later than usual, but, even so, not out of the ordinary for an ROTC officer. He had a year left, and he was looking to fuck it up royally.
Well. She'd set the brat down at the first louie's desk, and ask him to sort out and prioritize what was there, for her review. If he did a good job, she was missing a captain, too, and she'd try him on that crap. If not...
She spotted Howell sulking his way across the yard just as she finished the file, and she handed it back to Todd with a quiet thank you, exiting the building to stand with her arms crossed. He drew up short in front of her, watching her warily. She looked him up and down.
"See anything you like?" he quipped, but he looked pissed, and the joke fell flat.
"This way, please," she said, voice quiet and controlled, entirely nonconfrontational. He trailed her back to her unit much the same way he had to his Major's office, and she steeled herself to ignore that until she could talk to Beau.
"I'm down a 1st louie and a captain, Lieutenant Howell," she said softly, so that he'd have to strain to listen, unless his hearing was exceptional. He trailed her into the offices reluctantly. "With the exception of the nursing responsibilities, I expect you'll be able to handle the duties. You're not expected on the ward floor, nor beyond this office, unless you want someone to give you the tour. I'm aware that some of it will be unfamiliar. Prioritize what's here for my review tomorrow morning."
She left it there, and turned on her heel, exiting the room.
Jesse looked over the Nurse Corps 1st Lieutenant's desk with dismay. Everything looked remarkably similar to his own work with Major Black, but starting over in a new office, just when he'd thought he had escaped more extra duties, was more than he could handle. But Major Riordan - she wasn't messing around, that was for sure. He sighed, sat down in the chair and began reviewing the training schedule for tomorrow's duties.
"Beau," she said softly, relaxing back into her bed, snug in a set of flannels, her uniform for the next day laid out and waiting for her.
"Hi there, kid. What's going on?"
"If I don't have a boy lined up for you, I've lost my touch. If he isn't discharged, though..."
"What are you thinking, Theresa?"
She paused at the use of her given name, as always. "He's quite a brat, sir. I'm thinking I might be able to Top him right here, if he's amenable."
Beau chuckled. "And isn't that a sight. Tell me what's going on, honey."
She was relieved to pour out her frustrations and concerns to her mentor. The old soldier was the best source of advice she'd ever had.
Jesse heaved a huge, frustrated sigh as he dug into yet another ridiculous pile of paperwork, running a hand through his too-long, never quite regulation haircut. It was day three of this stack on his desk, and it felt like it was never going to end. He leaned back in his chair, checking the clock. Almost lunch... well, in twenty minutes. Maybe he could get away with an early start.
"Lieutenant," Tess barked, seeing her charge slip out of the office earlier than he should be. "And where do you think you're going?"
"Lunchtime, Major," he said, touching the brim of his cover, nodding to her.
"I don't think so, Lieutenant. It's all of eleven-forty - get your sorry ass back into that office."
STRIKE ONE
The heat of the mid-May sun at noon was making Jesse sweat as he trotted back into the office building, letting the screen door slam shut behind him, on his way back from running the umpteenth godawful errand for Major Bitch. This has to be the ninth ring of Hell, he thought, dropping wearily into a chair. I'd rather be doing pushups or laps than these crap duties.
"Lieutenant! I'd better not fucking hear that door slam again," she barked at him. Tess remembered what she was like at that age, snappy and sassy and cocky. Looked like she was getting to him.
"Yes, ma'am, " he said, with an edge of complaint to his voice. He leaned over to Second Lieutenant Rogers, seated at the desk next to his - which had far less paperwork than his own, he noted with a pout - and muttered under his breath, "She's always like this, isn't she?"
The lieutenant raised an eyebrow. "No, sir," the man said, with a proper tone of respect, though it was... quite reluctant sounding. "She's a go-getter, sir. Most effective nurse I've met in the officer pool."
Maybe if he... Jesse blew out a breath. No. She'd catch him. Fuck. It was like having the most annoying, most vigilant shadow, worse than any teacher he'd ever had, or even his mother. There was nothing to be done for it but to move on. "I'm ready for the next one, ma'am," he said, with begrudging acceptance.
She slapped a heavy stack of papers down on the desk before him. "These need to be at central command, Lieutenant Howell. Pronto." She turned on her heel, aware that he hadn't scraped himself out of the chair yet. Rogers would keep him honest.
STRIKE TWO
It was just his luck that Rogers was out sick on the day Major Bitch heaped the next round of shit duties on Jesse's desk. He couldn't pass off the duties to anyone else. It was clear, anyway, that Rogers was looking at him with far less respect and appreciation than any of his fellow officers had under Black's command. Even though he was pretty sure Rogers played both sides of the fence, he wasn't making any headway in that arena. He sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt for all the work he hadn't done that week, and reluctantly flipped open the next file.
The Major stepped smartly up to the desk, intending to collect the files in the outbox for review. She was pleased, thinking that a great deal of it would have been accomplished, Howell was bright enough, and Black had suggested efficient enough. And she stopped and stared at the outbox. A goodly number of files rested there, but the inbox was still completely swamped.
"Lieutenant Howell," she said, her tone icy. "Perhaps the duties here are too... strenuous... for you, hmm? I think perhaps you're done here, Howell. In my office, underneath the window? You'll find a number of boxes. THOSE files, they need to be filed in the back office - the one I pointed out to you on the tour - if you remember?" Her tone was sweet. If he was going to fuck up and slack, she'd have him running back and forth between her office and the file room - right where she could keep an eye on his progress.
"Right away, ma'am," he said, through gritted teeth, and gave her one last glare before heading into her office.
STRIKE THREE
Jesse swore under his breath. He was digging in dusty filing cabinets for some obscure thing Major Bitch had requested, had blindly jammed his hand into a cabinet in search of more files - and was frozen by the intense burn on the top of his forearm.
He looked down to see a long, jagged cut on his arm beginning to stream blood. The door opened at just that moment to reveal one of Tess' sergeants. "Jesse - oh, for... I give up. Fuck it. Here, keep pressure on that - and don't you dare go anywhere other than to Major Riordan, because as soon as I've put this shit away, I'm going to be right on your heels to report it to her."
Major Riordan didn't react, aside from her lips tightening, and she turned him with a firm hand on his shoulder into the private exam room next to her office. She pulled a hefty medical kit out of a cupboard and attended to the cut without a word. He was barely able to whisper a thank you, and after he'd gotten that out she kicked him back to duty, warning him to keep the bandage clean and dry.
Jesse winced, holding the arm above his heart, and tried not to think about how the cut had looked. His head was throbbing, and he felt more hopeless and lonely than he had in a long time. This is not my life, he thought miserably, casting his eyes around the bare exam room, and let his head hang down, elbows on his knees. What the hell am I doing here?
"This, Lieutenant Howell," she bit off the words sharply, trying to restrain her temper. "This is what I like to refer to as 'rock bottom,' boy. What kind of a career do you think you're going to have if you can't even obey simple orders - orders well within your capabilities? What do you think is going to happen if you slack at your duties the way I've seen here - and I'm betting I'm only seeing a shadow of the crap that you pull on your own unit, Lieutenant.
"Want to know what's next?" she went on, and observed remotely as he nodded wretchedly. "Next is closer and closer scrutiny from your ranking officers. Then, as they realize just what your miserable butt has been getting away with, they'll start to challenge you, Howell. Set you up. You'll fail, fail some more, and fail harder, until you wind up in a situation - whether or not it is of your making, or one that's been set up." Her voice grew hushed. "And then? Howell? Dishonorable discharge." Those last two words were spoken slowly, each syllable enunciated, a punch into his gut. "And at that point, you can fucking forget about any kind of decent future - because anyone looking to employ you is going to see that and balk."
"I'm sorry, Ma'am," he said, his nerves frayed to snapping, "I'm doing the best I can, okay? This - all of this -" he indicated the paperwork, looming on the desk just outside of the exam room, " - it's just too much. I can't handle it." His voice broke on the last phrase, and he brought his undamaged hand down hard on the cot.
"You sound like a five year old," Tess said, shaking her head regretfully. "It's too bad I can't just spank you and..."
At the mention of that particular act, Jesse felt himself blush to his ears, and stammered, "Ma'am - no, ma'am," with far greater feeling than the comment warranted. He avoided her keen gaze, choosing instead to stare fixedly at his shoes.
Hmm, she thought, turning with a little smile, hidden from him. Looks like I was right. She turned on her heel, stepping up close to him.
"No, Lieutenant Howell? Since when do subordinates tell superiors 'no' like that?" She watched him pout sullenly, measuring the heartbeats of silence, and knew that it was time. "You're off my service, Howell. Report to Major Black in the morning. And be damn sure I'll be checking with him that you've done so."
"But I -" He paused in confusion, standing and stumbling out the door as she'd directed, giving her one last hurt glance. Why am I protesting? he thought as he headed back to his own office. Any way to put some distance between myself and Major Bitch would be a reprieve.
But the desk piled with paperwork back in Major Black's service didn't feel much like a reprieve to Jesse. In fact, he realized he held more resentment than ever, and the lion's share of it was directed right at the woman who'd effectively sent him down the ranks and right back where he'd started. He was lost, poking at the papers without any sense of understanding or accomplishment. What the fuck was he doing here? Why had she sent him away?
With a surge of anger, he set the file down on the desk and stood, pushing his chair away from the desk. I need a break. And I know just the trick.
Tess headed into the barracks, intending to check on one of the nurses on the second floor, who she'd sent off shift when she'd realized the woman was ill enough to be in bed, though not on a ward. This wing of the barracks was mostly empty at this time of day, and she was startled to hear the murmur of voices from one of the rooms. She frowned, and popped the door open, throwing it wide, surprising both of the individuals within.
"Private Randall! If I'm not mistaken, miss, you are supposed to be on duty right at this moment, aren't you," Tess barked. The woman scrambled up, squeaking an apology and stumbling into the pieces of her carelessly discarded uniform.
Jesse watched the major glaring at Randall as she fled the room, and stretched out luxuriously on his stomach, his toes curling out from under the untucked sheet at the bottom of the bed.
Tess was no longer able to restrain herself, temper too on edge and she reached out, swinging hard, and smacked his naked butt, leaving a clear hand print on it.
He jerked, and his head hit the surface of the bed, trying to hide the blush - and the resurrection of his erection. Tess watched with cool grey eyes. She left him there, watching him squirm, for long moments.
Jesse's breath came faster and shallower than normal, and he was unable to restrain himself from darting nervous little glances at her from under the curtain of his hair, back arching, all too aware that his arousal wasn't fading, and shivering slightly.
Tess' fingers absolutely itched. If she'd wanted confirmation, well, she certainly had it now. If the silence and inability to move - more than just those little glances - hadn't given him away, the submissive quivering was a dead giveaway. She simply stood, carriage strong, shoulders squared, watching, until the shivering intensified.
She reached down to the end of the bed and drew up the rough green wool blanket over him, covering his naked, marked posterior, up to his shoulders. He'd be feeling chilled at this point. Her hand rested firmly on his buttocks underneath the blanket. And then he made the completely telling move, snapping his hips backward, into her hand, with a shocked intake of breath.
She seated herself on the edge of the bed, hand pressing down steadily. As she watched, his breath shallowed down to nonexistent, just as she was about to push forward, he whooshed out an enormous sigh, a last shudder running through him. Ah, she thought. So we're there, are we.
"Ma'am?" came the soft inquiry. He flinched as she shifted, eyes tracking her every movement, vulnerable, open, and half-afraid.
Her hand smoothed down his back underneath the blanket. He leaned into her fingers, relaxing peripherally, and closed his eyes as she stroked him. It was an act of surrender, the first one he'd demonstrated in the time she'd known him, just as her touch was the first act of compassion he had seen from her.
"Jesse." She leaned down to lift the pile of his clothing from the floor, draping the pieces one by one, lined up in militant order on the end of the bed, without taking her hand from his back. "You are going to stand up, and dress yourself." Her voice went low and husky. "And when you are ready... you'll come with me."
She was remembering, as she waited, the first interaction she'd had with Beau in this vein. She'd been just as antagonistic and viper tongued, and Beau... he'd been calm, and steady, and compassionate. She needed to move them out of the nursing ward, though, before they were interrupted, though she hated to interrupt the flood of emotions and thoughts he was experiencing. She wanted to help this boy, and if this was how it was with him, well, that she could help with.
She could see him trying to rationalize all of the chaotic thoughts that she knew were in his head. He stood slowly, sliding into his pants - the man even managed to not look in the least bit awkward, even as off kilter and unsure as he was at the moment - and she rose at the same time he did. Once he'd done up the zipper on his pants, she handed him the plain button down shirt, and when he moved to do up the first button, she met his blinking stare and his hands stalled, falling limply to his sides as he looked into her grey eyes. She reached up, never breaking her gaze, and buttoned the shirt, button by button, not a single fumble, fingers going to each one with deft sureness as if she'd done this hundreds of times before.
He reminded himself to breathe. She reached down and folded up the tie, slipping it into her own pocket, and then the slightest frown creased her face. Her slim hands reached out, gathered up the shirt tail, and slid the fabric down the back of his pants, fingers lingering at the top of his ass.
She watched with satisfaction as his face turned crimson, and his hands hurriedly tucked the front tails in before she could move. She didn't contradict the movement, keeping her own motions slow, calm and deliberate.
"We won't be outside, so you won't need your cover," she said quietly. "Come with me." She put a gentle hand in the small of his back, knowing it would help keep him in this clear space of thought that he had reached, well aware from the clock that they'd be able to move through the halls without seeing anyone else - the next set of rounds and medications wouldn't begin for another hour at minimum. Her steps were slow and deliberate, minimizing the sound of her heels on the floor. She opened the door to her office, ushering him inside without turning on the lights, walking him behind the desk to a small alcove that held a cot where she often caught a few hours of sleep during long duty periods, when they had a full ward. The alcove had a small, warm light, and she reached over and touched the base, watching it glow brighter as her fingers lingered. She drew them away slowly, aware that Jesse was watching her every move. A hand pressing gently on his shoulder guided him to sit, and she stood over him watching carefully, assessing, waiting to see if the movement and change of location had let him raise his defenses.
He licked his lips, nervously, took a hesitant breath, as if he'd like to speak, but no words came. The boy was frowning a little, the frequent blinks telling her that he was trying to formulate thoughts, poor lamb.
"This... is a little confusing," he said tentatively, as though he wasn't sure he was allowed to speak. At her nod, he continued, mustering his words like pebbles in his hands. "I'm not sure what just happened... on the bed, but it was... well, I felt really... " He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, his neck bending forward in frustrated defeat. "God. What the fuck is going on here?"
She seated herself next to him, a warm hand cupping the back of his neck.
"You're experiencing a stress reaction, Jesse. People's responses to stress are all over the map, how they respond to other people. Strong emotions will prompt people to act in ways they otherwise... wouldn't," she said, her hand sliding down to gently pat at his backside. She waited to see if he would take the suggestion that she had reacted unusually as well. Jesse flushed and his eyes, which had been trained on her, dropped back to his lap.
She could see shame creeping forward, and moved her hand back to his neck, exposed and vulnerable as he looked down. "There is no shame in what you are feeling right now, Jesse," she said, voice a little heavier on his name. "Your reactions aren't surprising to me," came the soft words. "I think I understand, but I do need to hear what you're thinking."
Jesse hesitated, clearly torn between the thoughts in his head and the words he wanted to speak. "You have full amnesty right now, Jesse," she added. "You can't say anything wrong here. I just need you to be honest with me."
He fumbled over his words, but Tess didn't make any motion to assist or encourage him in any way. It was essential that he be allowed to express himself authentically. "I think... " he said slowly, and took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "I think when you - uh, when you put your hand on my... rear end, I had some kind of... " He coughed. "An epiphany. I don't think I realized how awful I've been to you until just then." His eyes were liquid and agonized. "I guess I owe you an apology, first of all."
"Thank you," she said simply. "I appreciate that."
He bowed his head briefly in acquiescence, and knotted his fingers together. "So... I'm just wondering what the connection here is. Why -"
"Don't struggle with logic, Jesse." Her voice was firm, the hand on the back of his neck massaging gently at the taut muscles there. "You're a human being, and we've spent several days working closely, interacting more than you're used to with a superior." She put just a touch of emphasis on the final word. "Now, why what?"
"Why did I realize that... when you touched me there?" he said, sounding appalled.
"I believe very firmly that sometimes a sharp, short shock gets the brain functioning again, back on a proper track - no matter what that track might be," she replied steadily.
He wrinkled his brow, wrestling with this concept. "Are you saying that maybe I - I need that kind of - shock, to make me..." He swallowed, and the last phrase came out in a hoarse whisper. "To make me behave myself?"
"I had a few clues," she said dryly.
"Uh," he said, eyes going wide. "Like what?"
"Like the other day, you flushed when I mentioned that if you were a child, you'd be getting a spanking," she said, finding that she was having to make an effort to keep the mirth from her eyes. So innocent. She'd have to ask Beau if he'd felt the same way, over a decade ago, coaxing her to talk for the first time.
"Kids don't get spanked anymore," he protested. "That's old school. Who'd do that to a kid?"
"I think you'd be surprised. And it's... effective... with adults, as well."
He blinked, and a bewildered laugh escaped him. "Oh, yeah... who'd discipline an adult that way?"
She let herself chuckle. "I believe I did, not a quarter hour ago, Jesse. And it seems to have been fairly effective."
His breath seemed to stall, then return, double-time. He licked dry lips. "... Oh," he said faintly.
"Yes," came the compassionate response.
"Would you... I mean, do you think you might..." He choked on the question, but she wasn't giving him any help with this one. "I'm guessing I could use some more help with that," he finally said.
"Help with what part of it, Jesse?" Her voice softened to a gentle purr, and he shuddered under her touch.
"P-please," he stuttered. "I'm not even sure what to ask for here, but I... want some guidance, when I... mess up. Do you think you could... give me that?"
"Let's talk about what you mean by guidance, Jesse. There's two different facets to guidance, especially with the conversation we've been having. Guidance can mean conversations like the one we're having now, where you're listening respectfully, and thinking about what I'm saying, instead of giving me attitude. Guidance can also mean... correction - that sharp short shock we talked about earlier, in the form of... physical consequences."
Jesse's mouth rounded in a silent oh. He nodded nervously. "That's what I was thinking," he said. "But both of those things sound good... I mean, I think I can do that."
"Neither one is always easy, Jesse. In a way, it's a harder road to take both methods. I respect your desire to improve your attitude, your behavior. Helping you would involve a lot of commitment, and trust - more so on your part."
Jesse nodded again, this time more slowly. "I understand that. I'm just... god, I'm kind of embarrassed by who I've become. I just don't know what to do about it. It's like, I get stuck in this cycle, where things aren't going my way, and I just... I act up more, and I dig myself in deeper. It never gets better." He bit his lip, watching her. "I think this could make it... better."
Tess gave him a little smile. "Well the traditional methods don't seem to be working, that's for certain," she said, touching a bandage on the back of his wrist where he'd encountered a sharp corner in one of the file room cabinets on her service.
"Yeah," he said sheepishly. He laid his hand on hers, tentatively, and glanced at her for her reaction.
She gently moved her hand from beneath his, settling her own hand firmly atop his. He responded with a deep breath, and a settling of his shoulders, seeming relieved, in a way. "So what methods do you think might work?" Her grey eyes were soft, and kind. This wasn't an easy conversation for the boy, she appreciated that, and thus far he'd been quite endearing. "What's standing out in your mind right now."
He choked a little at her phrasing. "Well, frankly, I'm kind of turned on by this whole thing," he said, his voice low. "It's... I've never really thought about this stuff before. Is that... a usual reaction?" He seemed more curious than anything else.
She nodded. "Yes. It's perfectly normal. However, following up on those feelings, on that sort of reaction, has no place in a relationship between a mentor and a subordinate."
"I got that," he said softly, looking down. A glint of humor flashed in his eye, and he grinned as he added, "Any suggestions regarding what I should do about it?"
"Plenty," she replied. "It may depend on the situation. I normally let a submissive know what route to take when the situation... arises." He raised an eyebrow at the term submissive, but she was letting her own humor through a little, knowing it would relax him somewhat. She wasn't wrong; he laughed, and his shoulders settled still further.
He turned his hand over underneath hers, and gave it a little squeeze before releasing it. "I think I can... take care of that," he said. "But I'm not sure how the rest of it would work. Would you tell me when I needed... uh, correction? Or would I come to you?"
"I don't typically see you every day, Jesse - not unless I'm chasing you out of one of my nurse's beds. And you can bet on expecting consequences if I catch you at that again. And you are the one who knows what behaviours you are uncomfortable with, and how you want to change for the better."
His face went through some rapid shifts as he considered the consequences she had mentioned. "I'm not sure that's true," he objected. "I think, half the time, I don't even know that I've done something wrong until I'm in the thick of it." He sighed, running a hand over his face, looking weary and dejected. "I feel like such a fuck-up most of the time."
She considered his words for a moment. "Two things. First of all, let's cover Rule number One - and I expect you to be able to repeat it back to me any time I ask. Rule number one: Everything gets discussed, calmly and rationally. Second of all," she said, hesitating a little. "You are not the first individual I've assisted in this manner. We've talked about the two halves of guidance. If you choose, it wouldn't be unreasonable for me to have a private conversation with Major Black - ah," she warned, as he looked ready to object further, "you do not interrupt. Those conversations would focus solely on your job performance and your attitude under his command from day to day. He'll be aware that the time you spend on my service made you think, and I don't think he would find it unreasonable if you chose to ask me for a little mentoring."
He gulped a little at the thought. "He - he wouldn't know about any of the - other stuff, would he?"
"No," she said firmly, leaving no room for doubt. "That is a private matter, solely between you and me, Jesse."
"Yes ma'am," he said, without seeming to think about it. "That sounds good. I mean, I appreciate that. I mean - " He shook his head, perplexed. "What do I call you, anyway?"
"In the yard, it had damn well better be Major Riordan, or we can begin to visit consequences. Here..." She paused. "I expect respect, Jesse. Ma'am is never out of place, either here or on duty. I'd strongly suggest that, as a matter of fact, particularly if you're feeling... guilty." She gazed down at him, a gentle smile playing over her lips. "However, if we're in private, having a quiet discussion - as we are now - you are welcome to call me Tess."
His eyes softened, and he directed his own gaze back at her in clear appreciation. "All right," he said, his voice somewhat husky. "I'll keep that in mind."
"See that you do that." She watched him for a few moments. She let the silence stretch out between them, waiting to find out whether he would tense again. "How are you feeling?"
He took stock of himself, blinking, and it was a minute before he responded. "I feel - better," he said. "Clearer. I think talking has helped." His eyes flickered to her hands, resting on her knees. "But... maybe I need... a little reminder about how to behave myself?"
She let the smile she'd been repressing on and off for most of the conversation emerge. "I'd tend to agree with you, Jesse," she said, and let him fidget while she slowly gauged his reaction. "However," she continued. "I want you to think this over, and come back to me in the next few days, after duty, and we can have another conversation."
"Okay," he agreed, then, as an afterthought: "Thank you... Tess."
"You're welcome. Now. I have some work I'd like to accomplish before I leave for the night. You're quite welcome to stay, lie down if you wish. I realize this is a lot to take in, and if you'd like to take advantage of the quiet, you may."
He nodded, and hesitated before saying, "Can I - is there anything I can do to help?"
"No," she said gently. "Your job is to have some quiet time to think, right now."
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, almost to himself. He leaned back on the wall, elbows on his knees, and watched her with heavy lids. "I could use a couple minutes just to rest here before I head back to my bunk."
She stood, brushing his hair out of his eyes, giving him a quiet smile, and removed herself to her desk, opening her heavy planner, and pulling a file to herself, switching on the desk lamp.
When she looked up five minutes later, he was sprawled out on the cot, head pillowed on one long, lean arm, sleeping soundly. Tess shook her head wryly, and slid her chair back as quietly as possible, noting that he didn't even twitch. Tired out, then, not that she was surprised. She reached under the cot, and shook out a time-softened afghan, laying it over his still form. Watching his face ease, she sighed to herself, figuring that she could work late tonight, and perhaps take an early afternoon tomorrow. His features looked almost boyish, relaxed as they were, and she couldn't quite resist leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his temple before returning to work.
Tess filed the last of her paperwork, and glanced at the duty roster. Private Henderson should have rotated off ward duty a half an hour ago, the man's first week on duty with her, and she thought perhaps she'd drop by the man's quarters and check in with him. She gave a brisk nod, glanced at Howell's file with a sigh - after a week she was ready to let it drop to her secondary file, not among her everyday issues.
She shouldered into her jacket, it was chilly at night these days. The barracks were close to the ward where her office was stationed, a practicality with staff that could be roused on call during emergencies, just as the medical staff was, the doctors and techs. Henderson's door was ajar, so she tapped briskly, and opened it, frowning at the darkness. The sudden rustle of sheets sounded unpleasantly familiar, and the fabric twined around her shoe... that would be someone's tie. Dammit.
She reached for the light switch, and snapped it on, throwing the door wide open. Henderson and - Howell. Bloody hell, she thought, glaring at the two of them blinking owlishly in the brightness of the fluorescent lights.
"Major - " Henderson scrambled out of bed immediately, fumbling on the floor for his briefs, but Howell, damn him, stayed where he was, leaning on one arm like a magazine model posing for a shoot. He wasn't smiling, but his gaze was insolent. It was as if they'd never had that conversation, Tess thought, inwardly rolling her eyes. He was a piece of work, that was for sure.
"Private HENDERSON," she said, her voice not loud, but bringing the young man to sharp attention, though the poor kid was in nothing but his skivvies. "Pull a fresh uniform from your footlocker, repair to the barracks showers to clean up, and report to Captain Montague. You will tell him exactly what has occurred here, who was involved, and you'd best not leave out the fact that it's on my orders here." Montague had a canned "Howell" lecture for the staff, and Henderson would benefit, or be off her service in a week.
"Ma'am, yes ma'am!" he replied hastily with a quick salute, face red and raw from beard-burn, already snapping the lock off his footlocker and pulling out the appropriate clothing. He glanced at Howell imploringly, but Howell's attention was entirely on Major Riordan, staring at her with glittering ice-blue eyes, daring her to react.
Tess stood firmly in the doorway, causing the private to have to stammeringly excuse himself, so he could escape the room. Her gaze never left Howell, and Henderson privately wondered just what the fuck he'd stepped into, even as she responded to his rather desperate though politely phrased request, and let him out.
Her gaze was completely locked with Howell's, and she knew which one of them was going to back down. And it sure as fuck wasn't going to be her, not tonight. And not with this... disgusting, blatant plea for help, she thought. She gave a quick mental inventory of the barracks. Half of them were on duty on the ward - she tried to schedule her people so that their sleep schedules coordinated - and the other half... aside from Perike, the barracks were empty, this floor, and the floor above. And Perike slept like a log; and if she wasn't sleeping, she'd be sure to be off with a Corporal from the medical corps.
As the door shut behind Henderson, a grim silence fell over the room. Jesse sat up in bed, entirely disregarding the sheet that fell away from his nude form. "Caught me," he said quietly, and pressed his lips together in a grimace. She could see the cold self-recrimination in his eyes. Even though she knew him well enough now to tell at least half of what he wasn't saying, it still grated.
"ATTENTION!" Tess roared at him, her grey eyes afire.
Jesse threw the sheet to the floor and drew himself up, strong and straight. Now he was avoiding her eyes, staring ahead at the middle distance, and snapped her a salute, a hair slower than would have been respectful.
Excellent. That middle distance wouldn't let him properly assess her movements. She stalked into the room, catching his ear in her iron grip as she passed him.
He yelped, genuinely surprised - and no wonder, as it was no kind of standard response to insubordination - and flung his arms out to protect himself, but to no avail. Said grip let her bend him, whimpering, over her lap as she took a seat on the lower bunk, ducking her head with years of practice. The position left him neatly strung out over her lap. Years of combat ready training - she really must remember to proffer Beau a thank you for the extra lessons - let her pin the young man's arms up painfully behind his back as he flailed.
She allowed herself to pause, just briefly. She knew this boy, and it was just enough time to let his positioning sink in. A millisecond before he struggled, her right hand slapped down on his naked buttocks with extreme prejudice. She repressed his startled reaction without effort, and simply continued bringing her hard, callused, practiced palm down on his insubordinate ass, blow after blow dictating her malcontent with his bullshit, painted in bright red handprints on Jesse's buttocks.
Jesse's physical struggles continued only briefly, as he realized there was no way he was going to get away from her steely grip. But his verbal struggle was just beginning, as the protestations fell from his lips. "Major - ma'am, please, I'm - oww! - I think I got the point, okay?" His head twisted around to gaze at her with injured pride and a plea for mercy.
"I made you a promise, Lieutenant, and I'm not one to let down a soldier in need." Her hand continued down, bringing the wrath of her frustration to the tender flesh, which was attaining new heights of brilliance under the barrage of punishing swats she was landing on her target. "This is me keeping that promise - whether or not you feel you need additional assistance past tonight is entirely your decision, but this? This, Lieutentant Howell -" the rank was deliberately sarcastic coming from her experienced tongue, " - this is the fulfillment of my duty to your request, and acquiescence.
"And if you think you're going to run to Major Black, you've got another thing coming." She punctuated the last three slaps with a little more wrist and sting than previously. "Because he and I have now had several conversations about your sorry habits, and he won't say a thing about you getting spanked over my knee, Lieutenant Howell."
Jesse's body was losing its rigidity now, draped and shuddering on Tess' lap, and she could hear the hitching breaths creeping into his voice as he continued his angry protests. "You - ow, fuck - this is ridiculous, Major, please - "
"We can continue 'ridiculous' in the presence of your commanding officer. I guarantee you Major Black might find some satisfaction from seeing your spanked bottom." Her voice was husky and low. "And I have no objection to dressing you like a child, hauling you by your ear across the yard, and stripping your bottom again to bend you over, once we're in his office."
Jesse's face crumpled in horror and disbelief at her threat - an empty one, Tess knew, but psychologically effective, especially given his compromising position. He'd never know if it was real or not, but either way, it would have the same effect.
His pleading turned to begging. It was pitiful, really, but she couldn't help but feel for the ridiculous young man on her knee. Her swats didn't change pace or intensity, though; begging was nothing, just a signal of desperation, no different than the behavior that had had him bedding Henderson within a week of the young man being assigned to her service on base. If anything, she lowered the tone of her voice, deliberately making herself harder to hear over the racket of her palm on his behind, and his labored breathing. She hadn't broken a sweat; the only effort she was putting forth was the listening ear that would hear the main door to the barracks opening with long ease of practice. Not exactly where she'd wanted to spank the daylights out of the young lieutenant, but it would do. It would do.
She could feel the shift in his energy when he finally capitulated, letting his head flop forward onto the mattress beside her, his neck beaded with sweat. "I can't - I can't," he ground out, his throat constricted. It was as much a plea for help as anything he'd said, but Tess was impassive.
"That's fine, Lieutenant. I can dress you, we can go across the yard to Black's office. Then I can pull your pants down and continue. No issue." Her palm had not ceased its rapid action across his backside, though it was now more calculated to produce the maximum amount of sting, rather than being forceful. Stubborn young brat.
"No - I can't," he said, louder, his voice breaking now, starting to come apart even as he protested it. His hand came up to protect himself every few moments, but she effectively warded it away from her blows, knowing that was a sure route to unnecessary damage. He'd not suffer any permanent harm from a spanking, but best not let the fragile bones of his hand get in the way by accident.
"If you think Major Black doesn't feel you need a good hiding, you've got another thing coming," she told him, now choosing to punctuate her key words with swats. "Contrary to popular belief, corporal punishment isn't dead in the Army, Lieutenant Howell - it's just not often issued above.. Corporal... level." Her tone was silky, hoping the implication would take. He was a beastly little bugger. It didn't bother her in the least; he was the one who'd pay for his recalcitrance, in the form of the extended time in which he'd not be able to sit to complete his daily duties.
Perhaps it finally dawned on Jesse that there was nothing he could do to get her to stop. Perhaps he was beyond rational thought - or perhaps he simply had lost the ability to do anything but submit to her blows, but his body was suddenly racked by thick, choking sobs. His back constricted with the power of his gasps.
Her hand moved nearly instantaneously to the small of his back, the heated warmth of her palm pressing into his spine compassionately, thumb moving along the tense muscles. She didn't speak, simply listened to the blubbering mess strung out over her lap, waiting for his body to give up the fight. When he'd calmed, she'd walk him to her office and let him recover. And then the real work would begin, one way or another.
Jesse's hand fumbled at her knee, and at first she thought he was struggling, one last gasp, but then she realized he was trying to sit up. She firmly pushed him back down.
"No," she said. "That's enough out of you, young man." Her heated palm now began to rub small circles on the tense mass of his naked back. "That's enough, now." Each word brought her voice lower, quieter, and more soothing, and she could feel the responses, slow as they were. She spared a glance for his well-spanked bottom, and repressed a sigh at the sight of the red and purple stippled flesh.
Jesse didn't seem to notice it, though, not with the endorphins flowing through him, driving him to calm and quiet. His arms curled inward, folding into his chest, and he slumped against her body, tucked into her stomach like a too-large puppy seeking the warmth of its owner.
Well, she knew that reaction well, and there was only one answer for it. She let her hands move slowly, one creeping under his upper body, the other sliding sneakily under his knees, and when she was ready and braced, she bodily flipped him upright in her lap, years of muscle from turning patients three times her weight standing her in good stead. She cradled the dark head into her shoulder with ease of practice, the sore bottom not in direct contact with her lap or the bed, and hushed him, rocking a little.
His voice was barely audible, slurred in reaction and shame. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes closing. "I'm so sorry."
She didn't reply, just tightened her arms, rocked a little more firmly. The moment he came to his senses, she'd reach down for his abandoned clothing, and dress him like she would a child, including swatting his hands away, making sure the light slaps stung. And then? She'd lead him off to her office, resigning herself to a night on her own couch, while he slept the sleep of the well-spanked on her cot.
The hiccoughed apologies didn't stop, punctuated every few minutes or so, until there was finally one that wasn't accompanied by a tell-tale hitch of breath. She pulled his arm into his shirt - at least, she hoped it was his, in case any one else spotted them - and he protested.
"Please! Don't leave me- I - I'm sorry - I -"
"That's enough of that," she suggested, voice hushed but brisk. "We're going to get you into proper uniform here, and to somewhere that we won't be interrupted." She smiled to herself. "Unless you'd like to take the march of shame to my office, so everyone can see your spanked bottom, Jesse?"
"No m-ma'am," he stammered, his eyes on the floor, the very picture of cowed acquiescence.
"Good. Here, let's slip these on, and your trousers - that's good, Jesse," cam her soothing words. "Let me button your shirt - there. That's decent. Now let's go, young man." She stood both of them up decisively. She was aware his cover was still under Henderson's bed, but she meant to leave that for him to retrieve.
"My office, right now," came the stern order from her lips, appreciating how it quickened his steps.
Pulling the cloth of his shorts over his red, raw behind was clearly uncomfortable, but he didn't slow his obedient movement as he complied with her order. "Ma'am," he said meekly.
She simply took his arm, leading him to the door, dousing the lights and shutting it behind the two of them.