When Corporal Waters first heard his buddies talking about the young major who had just transferred to their base, he thought little of it. Rarely did he have much to do with anyone that didn't work in the armory with the exception of his visits to the mess hall; and given that he elected to work nights in order to ensure the most accurate inventory counts, those that he'd see were often not so different than he in that they hated the world and everyone in it as a result of being on night duty and, like all good misanthropes, either shied from or were incapable of human interaction except when absolutely unavoidable. Thus, when his comrades told him of how abrasive this particular young major could be, he trumped it up to her youth. Most officers that quickly climbed the ladder of success seemed to share a compulsive need to establish their position of authority by being complete and utter assholes to all those finding themselves unfortunate enough to be of a lesser rank.

This particular young major was alleged to be no exception. Perhaps it was indeed because of her youth or, equally likely, because of her gender in an environment saturated by far too much testosterone for CPL Waters' liking, but this particular young major nonetheless made the lives of others as difficult as possible- or so his friends claimed. No secret was it either that this particular young major's father was a particularly famous general in the King's Royal Guard, which was a fact that most feigned to neglect when considering the worthiness and value of her station.

It didn't really matter to CPL Waters. He kept to himself and seldom troubled others. He bothered to do any tasks assigned to him properly and without indolence. He avoided confrontation, kept his shared quarters tidy, made an effort to get along well with those that would have him and never, ever, tried to convince his friends of the existence of R'hllor, the One True God of Flame and Shadow, the Heart of Fire, the Lord of Light and most commonly known as the Red God. CPL Waters was, in many ways, the perfect soldier: compliant without complaint.

Therefore, he couldn't bring himself to complain when he finally crossed paths with the infamous major. CPL Waters didn't often run into anyone, much less another soldier, when he'd venture off base at two or so in the morning to take advantage of the nearby twenty-four hour gym. And when a very pretty, dainty, seemingly harmless young woman walked passed him as he lay on the leg press, the opportunity to stare at her ass seemed far too tempting to pass up; that was, of course, until she noticed his gaze and confronted him.

At first just giving him a passing glance and then doing a double take, she turned suddenly. "Were you staring at my ass?" she asked.

Caught red-handed, or at least red-faced, he innocently gave the most convincing of answers, "No."

"No, ma'am." she corrected him. "Get the hell off of my leg press and show some goddamn respect when speaking to a superior officer."

"Wh- what?" CPL Waters stuttered. "Are you pulling rank on me?" He looked about them. "Here?"

"I've seen you on base." She spoke as if each statement was a crime of which he was guilty. "You're a corporal. You work in the armory."

"Yes, ma'am." he nodded, fidgeting.

"Don't you 'ma'am' me." She glared, her steely gray eyes shining like bullets. "What's your name, corporal?"

He uneasily answered, "Waters?"

She scoffed. "Waters? Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Because you sounded like you weren't sure."

"I'm sure, ma'am." He clarified, "Corporal Waters."

She took a step towards him. "Well, corporal, I'll ask you again. Were you staring at my ass?"

"I'm…" CPL Waters was now beginning to sweat much like he'd been sweating before, except that this particular bit of perspiration began its rapture as a result of his realization that he was speaking with 'the wolf bitch' as she was so fondly called. "I might have been."

The slightest hint of a smile appeared at one corner of her mouth and just as quickly vanished. "I might have been, ma'am." she again corrected him. "You either were or you weren't. Which is it?"

She made the decision quite easy for him. "I wasn't." He added, "Ma'am."

"Do not call me 'ma'am.'" She took another step closer so that she was now looking down at him. "And say 'ma'am' when you don't."

"Yes, ma'am."

She studied him, judging and condemning, and looking fine as hell, he thought. "So you weren't staring at my ass? Because I'll have you reprimanded if you were."

CPL Waters vigorously shook his head and reasoned it was best to stick with his lie.

"And you wouldn't stare at it even if I didn't notice?"

CPL Waters again shook his head, but this time more fervently. "No, ma'am."

She turned her body so that should he choose to do so, he could easily stare at her ass. "Are you saying that my ass isn't worth staring at?" she coldly asked.

As much as he wanted to, CPL Waters couldn't prevent it; he smiled. She was obviously just fucking with him. "No, ma'am."

Her braided brown hair lightly tossed as she cocked her head. "Is my ass fucking funny?"

"No, ma'am." CPL Waters' smile retreated.

"Then why did you smile?"

"I thought you were joking, ma'am."

"Don't call me 'ma'am.'"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm not joking, corporal. And my ass isn't either. I'll have you reprimanded if you weren't staring at my ass." She poked it out a bit. "So, were you or weren't you staring at my ass?"

CPL Waters was lost. It appeared that no matter if he had or had not been staring at her ass, she'd have him reprimanded for it. "I was," he admitted as he glanced at her ass, "but I didn't mean to."

"It was just an accident, then?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"My ass is so small that you couldn't possibly stare at it on purpose?"

"No, ma'am!" He blinked wildly as his eyes darted to and from her face and her ass. "I'm not saying that at all!"

She sighed. "Get the fuck off my leg press."

After briefly looking to the vacant leg presses at his left and right, CPL Waters replied, "Yes, ma'am." He promptly sat up, dutifully grabbing his water bottle and towel. Wishing to avoid any further torture, he hurriedly walked off towards the butterfly machines.

"You don't wipe down your equipment when you're through with it?" she chided him. He stopped, took a breath, and turned around. Avoiding her gaze and her ass, he pulled his towel from his shoulder, crossed back to the leg press, and began wiping down the cushions. "What are you doing?" she snidely inquired.

CPL Waters hesitated, staring directly in front of him. He replied through gritted teeth, "I'm cleaning off the leg press, ma'am."

"Did I fucking tell you to clean off the leg press?"

Fed up and feeding from a rare streak of rebelliousness, he rounded and faced her. CPL Waters was much taller than she and felt emboldened as he looked down into her hard, unwavering eyes. "No, you fucking didn't. Ma'am." As soon as the words left his lips, he became apprehensive; nay, terrified of her response.

CPL Waters chose not to show it.

She bit her lip and sounded almost daring as she warned, "Don't call me 'ma'am.'"

He swallowed. "Yes, ma'am, Major Stark."

Now, she grinned. "It's good to know that my reputation precedes me." She reached up and lightly patted him on the head. Sweetly, she ordered, "Go to the barracks and take a shower, Corporal Waters. You stink."

And shower he did.

CPL Waters cleaned himself quite thoroughly, and even more thoroughly cleaned his dick as he imagined how it might feel to have MAJ Stark's ass pressed up against him, how it might feel to grasp it, to squeeze and caress it as he gazed into her eyes and tasted her lips, breathed her breath and begged her for more while she-

"Waters!" Private First Class Pie ruined his shower by pulling open the curtain. Luckily, CPL Waters' back was turned. "What are you doing?"

CPL Waters pulled the curtain closed and shouted back at him. "What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?!"

"You're taking a shower." Moments of genius from PFC Pie were far and few between. "And masturbating. But what are you doing after?"

His shame now fully retreated, CPL Waters cut the water off and stepped out, grabbing his towel and drying himself. "It's not yet 0400 hours. Why are you even awake?"

PFC Pie seemed to bounce from excitement. "Greyjoy hacked WBO's satellite feed!"

"Why'd she do that?" He wrapped the towel around his waist and moved towards his bag to get his clothes. "Is the new season of 'Game of Crude Oil Reserves' on already?"

He shook his head. "Not until next year. But the boxing match of the century starts at 0500! She's got it wired to the tele in the back of the mess hall!"

CPL Waters groaned. "Is she asking to be demoted? Doesn't she remember what happened last time?"

"Captain Sevenstrings ordered her to." PFC Pie grinned. "He said it was worth the risk to see Jaime Lannister beat the shit out of Loras Tyrell."

"Lannister came out of retirement?" CPL Waters asked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Yeah! I think he's still retired, actually… but he agreed to a grudge match! The King's Landing Coliseum sold out in less than an hour after tickets went online!" He now looked perplexed. "How have you not heard about it?"

While he'd been aware of Tyrell's taunts for the legendary Lannister to fight him and prove that he was still the best ever, he certainly hadn't expected anything to come of it. "It's in the back of the mess hall, right? Away from the main area?"

PFC Pie nodded, wide-eyed and emphatic.

The real danger was getting caught. "And who all knows about it?"

"Just a few of us." He mildly abated CPL Waters' fears. "Come on, the pre-show is already on and everyone's making bets!"

The phrase "the back of the mess hall" referred to a private room titled "Acorn Hall" that required one to walk through the actual mess hall and then down a boringly normal hall past the kitchens and freezers to a secluded, windowless retreat often reserved for meals involving high-ranking officers who were only just visiting the base and wished to dine very far from the raucousness of their lessers. The cozy space contained a large flat-screen tele and, despite PFC Pie's assurances that few would be in attendance, CPL Waters found himself able to hear the rowdy attendees long before reaching them. Upon opening the door and letting out their terrible noise for all who might punish them to hear, he saw that the small room was packed with at least three dozen.

Internalizing and making a conscious effort to abate his fears of being discovered, he quickly found a seat and accepted the bottle of whiskey that SGT Cassel handed to him. "You on duty today?" the sergeant asked over the noise of the soldiers and the blaring tele.

"Not until tomorrow night." he replied after a swig.

"You're lucky." SGT Cassel smiled as CPL Waters handed the bottle back to him. "I'm on in three hours." He took a large gulp. "Who are you betting on?"

"No one." He laughed.

SGT Cassel leaned towards him, gently hitting him on the shoulder. "You're betting on no one? Where's the fun in that?"

"'No one' is the wisest bet." CPL Waters grinned back at the slightly drunken sergeant. "I can't lose."

Waving him off, he groaned, "You can't win anything, either."

"Sometimes not losing anything is a victory in itself." He shrugged. "A good soldier knows when to stay in the trenches."

"And wait for the Air Force to bomb the fuck out of the bastards!" Captain Sevenstrings slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder as he sat down on the other side of him. He pointed to the screen. "The commentators are all saying that Lannister has it."

"What, exactly, is going on here?" From the behind them, a voice boomed over the rest.

Everyone turned to see the small figure in the doorway. Someone whispered, "It's the wolf bitch."

She asked, "Who is responsible for this?" MAJ Stark looked as if she might geld them all. "WHO?!" she demanded. The room was silent, save the commentators arguing over how to correctly interpret statistics.

PFC Pie, trembling, stood and pointed over to Specialist Greyjoy. He blurted, "Greyjoy hacked into WBO's satellite feed again!"

SPC Greyjoy glared at him, but appeared mostly unbothered as MAJ Stark asked her, "Is that true?"

Standing now, SPC Greyjoy nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Crossing her arms, taking a step forward and biting her lip, MAJ Stark looked down to the floor. After a moment, she looked back up to SPC Greyjoy. "This is not the first time you've done this, is it, SPC Greyjoy?"

"No, ma'am." SPC Greyjoy raised her chin proudly as she spoke, "This is the seventeenth time I've pirated the feed using our satellite dishes and decryption technology."

CPL Waters could've sworn he saw a hint of a grin on MAJ Stark's face as she followed up, "And you've been warned of what would happen should you do it again?"

SPC Greyjoy smiled. "No, ma'am. I've been warned of what would happen if I did it again without authorization."

Squinting as if smelling bullshit, MAJ Stark asked, "And what do you mean by that?"

"Colonel Mormont ordered me to hack the international feed for him so he could watch the fight in his office." She paused briefly. "He didn't say anything about where I could and couldn't send the feed, just that I could watch it too as long as I didn't tell anyone."

MAJ Stark looked about the room and CPL Waters felt relieved that her eyes seemed to skim over him. "It looks as if you've told everyone."

"No, ma'am." SPC Greyjoy glanced to PFC Pie. "Pie saw what I was doing and told CPT Sevenstrings who then ordered me to run the feed in here and tell everyone, especially Pie, because he was the easiest to pin it on if the higher-ups found out about it and wanted someone to reprimand."

MAJ Stark's eyes trailed over to PFC Pie, who was now sweating, pale, and shaking to the point that his chins wobbled like gelatin. "I could have all of you court-marshalled." Her eyes then moved to CPL Waters.

MAJ Stark's gaze was so icy and threatening that CPL Waters couldn't decide if he was terrified or aroused. The uniform looked flatteringly wonderful on her and he admired the way it hugged her small frame, giving her a look of intimidating authority while accentuating her hips, breasts and a- Don't look at her ass, he caught himself.

"But," she frowned, "COL Mormont outranks me, and he'll take care of you," MAJ Stark now looked at CPT Sevenstrings, "when word of this gets to him." She nodded to the room. "As you were."

A collective relieved sigh emitted from the lot of them. Uneasily, CPL Waters turned in his seat to look back at the tele and get a grip on his pounding heart. Beside him, CPT Sevenstrings began to softly curse himself.

Chit-chat slowly regained its previous volume and he thought he'd calmed enough to avoid a heart attack when he heard her voice again. "Waters."

CPL Waters stood up and turned so abruptly that he knocked his chair across the floor. "Yes, ma'am."

MAJ Stark appeared livid. "Come with me. You've miscounted the M-16's on hand in the barracks." She briefly studied his bloodless face. "I need you to fix this. Immediately."

'This,' he knew, was impossible and, also, not his problem. CPL Waters had counted them personally on his last shift and all were accounted for. If the count was now off, it was the fault of the particular young corporal now on duty and was that particular young corporal's problem. That particular young corporal just happened to be CPL Snow, MAJ Stark's cousin.

On their walk to the barracks MAJ Stark said nothing and although she kept a brisk pace, her legs were much smaller than his and CPL Waters was able to keep up with an easy gait. After arriving at the barracks, she entered and did not acknowledge CPL Snow, who seemed delighted to see her.

"Arya!" he smiled as she passed him.

CPL Waters gave a frightened nod to CPL Snow as he walked by, following MAJ Stark. She went straight past the M-16s and through the double-doors to the very back of the barracks where ammunition was stored. Suddenly, she stopped and pointed. "There."

Sure enough, hidden behind crates upon crates of rounds sat a crate that CPL Waters immediately recognized by the non-descript shipping label to be filled with M-16s. Judging by the tattered state of this label, this particular crate had remained there for some time. CPL Waters stifled a groan. "Yes, ma'am. I'll let alert CPL Snow and-"

"You'll do no such thing. CPL Snow may be on duty, but CPL Snow has nothing to do with deliveries and where said deliveries are stocked. It's your job to ensure that these kinds of things don't happen and you will fix it. Now." MAJ Stark crossed her arms and elaborated, "I need you to take inventory of every single crate."

Suddenly, CPL Waters felt very tired. Hundreds of crates lined the walls, some of them stacked fifteen feet in the air. "Yes, ma'am."

"Don't call me 'ma'am.'" MAJ Stark politely corrected.

CPL Waters gave a nod, defeated. "Yes, ma'am."

"I'll let CPL Snow know not to disturb you." And with that, MAJ Stark left the room.

CPL Waters hung his head after hearing the door slam shut behind him, began dreading the task that lay at hand. First things first, he located the inventory paperwork and sat down at a small desk in the corner to boot up the computer and print out the current on-hand amounts of every single item in the barracks. As the Windows operating system begrudgingly stumbled from its sleep, he heard the door slam shut once again. Assuming it must be Jon, he asked aloud, "Can you get me a Red Bull, Snow? I'm gonna be back here for a while and-"

A small, gentle hand came to rest on CPL Waters' shoulder and he suddenly noticed MAJ Stark's reflection in the still-black monitor. He heard a smirk in her voice as she clarified, "Jon won't be bothering us." Now wide awake but also frozen in place, CPL Waters blinked at the screen as it briefly flickered with life before going black again. "You know," she seductively continued as she lightly ran her fingers down his arm, "ever since I first saw you," CPL Waters knew where this was going, and she took his chin in her hand and turned his head to look him in the eyes, "I knew you were a Baratheon."

As CPL Waters gazed up at MAJ Stark, a sudden, cold pang of terror in his chest began to spread throughout his body as parts of him that only a moment ago were beginning to warm with excitement now chilled into flaccidity. MAJ Stark looked as if she might snap his neck and CPL Waters wasn't quite sure why.

"Y- you did?" he asked and then quickly added, "Ma'am?"

MAJ Stark sighed, visibly exasperated, and turned to walk towards the row of clipboards hanging by the door. "It just crossed my mind the first day I arrived on base." Straightening the dangling clipboards with either obsessive compulsion or compulsive obsession, CPL Waters couldn't be sure as she delicately corrected their aesthetic appeal, MAJ Stark recounted their first meeting. "I saw you on your way from the barracks and thought you looked an awful lot like Robert in my father's old photos." She gave a laugh. "Before he got old and fat, that is." MAJ Stark now became very serious and turned to look at CPL Waters. "I thought little of it until I saw you in the gym, so I pulled your file."

Again, CPL Waters hung his head. Regardless of where she was going with this, he loathed the general direction.

"I found it quite interesting because there's absolutely no mention, anywhere, on the identity of your biological father," MAJ Stark frowned, "with the exception of your birth certificate."

With pursed lips, CPL Waters looked back up at MAJ Stark. "Yes, ma'am. That's correct."

MAJ Stark blinked a few times, seeming somewhat surprised by his answer. "So you are aware of this."

He gulped. "Yes, ma'am."

She eyed him curiously. "How long have you known?"

"Since I was fifteen, ma'am." CPL Waters honestly replied. "After my mother died, I came across my birth certificate while going through our things."

"And?" MAJ Stark took a few steps towards him. "You didn't tell anyone that your father is the Commander-in-Chief?"

"No, ma'am." Resolutely, he shook his head.

"Why not?" she asked, her voice lacking its previous interrogational tone.

"At first I thought it was a mistake or a joke, but…" finding this difficult to discuss, he cleared his throat, "my godfather confirmed it. And I figured that if my father didn't want anything to with me, I didn't want anything to do with him either."

MAJ Stark furrowed her brow. "So you decided to join the military and fight for him instead?"

"No, ma'am." He nodded once in affirmation, "I fight for the people of Westeros."

"And you swore an oath to serve, protect and obey him, but," she smirked, "you don't want anything to do with him. You know," she bit her lip before continuing, "this means that you lied on every single document we have on file."

"Yes, it does." CPL Waters swallowed, "Ma'am."

"You could be imprisoned for that, I'm sure you're aware." MAJ Stark smirked, "Or did no one, not your recruiter, not anyone at MEPS nor at basic or any of your brothers and sisters in arms- no one ever told you how serious of an offense it is to lie to the military?"

CPL Waters couldn't answer that. Of course they did, he thought. And I always laughed to myself every time someone glanced over my birth certificate and didn't notice. It didn't matter now. Strangely, his fear dissipated. He shrugged, "I guess my secret is out."

"Only if your secret isn't kept a secret, Corporal Waters." MAJ Stark smiled. "And this particular secret is a peculiar one to be kept." She began to pace from side to side now, thinking before she spoke again. "You've been in the service for more than a few years now. Should you have made your parentage known, you very might currently find yourself in a much higher rank."

She knew CPL Waters' secret and it was over if she wished it to be. Surely, he'd be court-marshalled and thrown in prison. He had little to lose. "That's true, but some might wish to climb the ranks by their own merits," he very deliberately glanced at her ass, "rather than stand on the shoulders of a well-known family name."

MAJ Stark stopped pacing and faced him. Her expression was like stone at first, but then softened. "I know what they say about me. I know what they call me." She crossed to him now, stopping just short of him and then starting him down. "And if there's anything I've earned, it's my title. The wolf bitch,'" she gave a short, contrived laugh, "you'd almost think it was meant to be an insult." She walked around behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Trust me, Waters, I'd do anything to trade places with you." As she leaned down to whisper in his ear, the computer screen beside them finally blinked into life, proudly declaring 'Press Control+Alt+Delete to begin.' "We all have our secrets."

He shook his head in disbelief and turned his attention to the screen. "It must be hard for you, keeping a secret like that." CPL Waters pressed Ctrl+Alt+Del and it crashed. As he sighed and stood up to reach behind the desk and unplug the computer, he turned to face her. "It's almost like being promoted to 'Major' is a bad thing."

She stopped him and nodded, "To be sure, it has its perks. But," she paused, "there are also drawbacks."

"Like what?" CPL Waters asked skeptically.

MAJ Stark crossed her arms and raised her chin. "Like being unable to fraternize with my subordinates."

"Who says you can't do that?" He blinked at her. "CPT Sevenstrings gets wasted with us in town all the time and-"

"That's not what I'm talking about." She took a step forward and put her hand on his crotch, grinning as she began gently rubbing at his cock. "I'll keep your secret if you keep mine."