With a returned laptop, I can now give you a new chapter to the Dating Saga. Yes, the laptop is returned, although the files were lost, but now I can write in more than 15 minute windows! In fact... this chapter was written and completed this afternoon on the restored laptop. Thank you ALL for being so supportive and encouraging!

* * * *

BeachHead watched avidly as CoverGirl rooted around in the engine compartment of her car. He wasn't certain she could rightly call the metal hulk a 'car' since it wasn't running yet and half the parts were laying around in various degrees of disrepair. The view from his vantage point was rather nice though. The fatigue pants didn't quite hide the shapely legs and nothing on this earth could hide that really nicely rounded... One grease-covered hand came out to wave at him vaguely.

"Gimme a three-sixteenths." The distracted voice was partly muffled by the engine block she had her head stuffed down next to.

"Uhh.. okay." Rummaging in her toolbox, he came up with a wrench and handed it over. She tucked her arm back down then stuck it right back out to him.

"Socket.. not a wrench, Beach!" He took it back and rummaged again for a socket wrench and the appropriate sized socket to attach to it. Somehow it seemed to take him forever to find the right socket.. then it wouldn't snap into place. Finally he reached to put the tool into her hand, just as she raised up to see what was taking him so long. The wrench smacked her forehead. "OW! Dang Beach!"

"Sorry!" He held it out. "Didn't mean to go whacking you with it."

She plucked the wrench up and shook her head, diving back into the engine. "It's okay.. you're just a disaster sometimes." There was a clink-clink noise from down in the engine. "But that's okay.. ahhh got you.. little bugger bolts." She handed out a few small bolts to the waiting BeachHead. "Hang onto those."

"Okay." Pocketing the bolts carefully, he tugged the slightly damp teeshirt off his chest. It was warm out, but at least he wasn't weighted down with his normal padded body armor, nor was he sweating under a balaclava. He'd taken a rare day off to hang out with his favorite tank jockey. Reaching out, he took the greasy part she handed him. "Got it. Uhh.. what is it?"

"That would be a four-barrel Carter. Not all that bad and of course, it's original to the car.. and the original to the model. I'm gonna replace that baby with three Rochesters.. two-barrels... and since this Carter is perfectly fine, I'll sell it off to someone who is more interested in original make and model schematics than the better carb." She grinned and then saw the utterly blank look on his face and sighed. "It's a carburetor. I'll put in a better kind."

He brightened. "Gotcha. Better carb means a more powerful engine. Right?"

"You got it." She took the part in hand to poke it a few times. "I'm just happy this baby is a four-speed instead of the manual three. All the ones I saw previous were three-speeds."

He peered at the engine, perhaps hoping to see a sign that explained why one would care. "Don't most cars have.. four or five?"

"Yesss.. today. Back in the day, these GTOs were all by their lonesome as the first of the big engine small muscle cars. This is going to be one sweeet ride. When it's on the road, I'll take you out on the first test drive!" She beamed at him and handed the messy part back. "Just stuff it into that box over there. Scarlett's uncle will take it off my hands and sell it to someone. I'll just take credit, be spending more money with him anyway."

"Makes sense. He seemed like a right nice fellow. Seemed to really know his car stuff, that's fer sure." Tucking the fancy carburetor into the beat up cardboard box, Beach tucked the flaps in to close it. "What next?"

"Oh.. I'll probably pull the plugs and check the gapping." She reached up and nudged a lock of her long hair back behind her ear, leaving a smudge of dark grease. "Just take a few minutes."

He hesitated then reached out to her cheek.. pausing when she looked at him in puzzlement. "Ya got.." A gentle wipe with his thumb removed most of the smear. "Jus' some oil.. " He looked away then glanced back at her. "Sorry."

"It's alright." A little bit of a smile played around her lips and he hoped she was happy and not just finding amusement at his awkwardness. She reached up to his face and with a quick movement, swiped a grimy finger across his cheekbone. "There. Now we match."

"Geez." He reached up and wiped at it with the edge of his palm a few times. "Thanks.. I take grease offa you.. and ya go and get it on me." A few more wipes and he'd managed to effectively spread it across his entire cheek.

She laughed softly and took his wrist to stop the futile efforts. "Stop.. stop.." Digging out a shop rag from her pocket, she used it to carefully clean the side of his face while he stood patiently. "I'm sorry.. there. All gone. I just can't help it.. you hardly ever have that mask off.. I just can't help it when I have access to those rosy cheeks."

He twisted his face slightly and rubbed at it anyway. "It's no big deal." Looking a little embarrassed, he shifted his weight back on his heels and looked back at the engine. "Sooo.. ya gotta lot to do to it yet." The questioning tone made her grin.

"Yeah.. a LOT. But it'll be worth it. This car is a classic." She patted the front left fender fondly, ignoring the fact that the right front fender was missing entirely and ignoring the primer paint and dent in the metal she caressed. "It's going to be great."

"Don't look like much. Ya know.. " Beach motioned toward the outline of the vehicle. "It's not very.. uhh.. sporty looking." He suddenly turned and put his hands up. "Not that Ah'm disparagin' it or nuthin' to ya!"

His apparent fear of her wrath softened the punch she planted into his ribs. His annoyed expression as he rubbed the spot mollified her only slightly. "BeachHead!! It's a 64 GTO!!! How could you SAY that?!"

He stepped away slightly before he held a hand out to it. "Well.. it ain't. Ya know how corvettes are all.. smooth and curvy? Yer GTO ain't. It's kinda blocky." He ducked that time and her punch went wild over his head. Wrapping arms around her from behind, he held her still and ducked his head against her neck to keep out of reach of the flailing arms. He did have to shift his feet pretty quickly to avoid losing one of his kneecaps as she used her boots to the fullest. When she tried to throw him over her shoulder, he simply leaned his weight back and chuckled at the struggles. "Calm down."

"Get OFF ME!" CoverGirl's heel slammed into the arch of his foot, the blow blunted substantially by the heavy combat boots he wore. "BLOCKY!?"

"No offense meant! Stop tryin' to kill me!" He twisted his face to the side to avoid getting smashed as she tried to slam the back of her head into his. "Come on.. I was jokin' with ya.. I love yer car.. it's gorgeous.. really." Her struggles slowed and finally stopped. "It's an awesome car.. beats any old corvette type thing all to pieces." Her panting was the only sound for a moment.

"You better damned well mean that Wayne. Because if you mouth off about my car again.." The threat in her tone made him smile just a little bit.. since she couldn't see his face and deck him for it.

"Yes ma'am. Love the car." He inhaled deeply with his nose buried in her hair. "Ya smell really nice too."

"Don't try to flatter me. Say you're sorry!" She shifted inside his locked arms to slam an elbow into his ribs. "And you better mean it!"

"I"m sorry I said yer pretty car was blocky.." The deep brown eyes softened as he brushed his jaw against the side of her head. "Best car ever.. gorgeous.. soo.. soft and.. nice..."

"Beach.. " She smiled and leaned back against his chest. "I don't think you're talking about the car anymore." He hummed softly then suddenly let her go and stepped away, looking startled.

"Ahh.. yeah.." She watched him shrug his shoulders around slightly as if readjusting himself in his skin. "Anyway.. sorry, didn't mean to insult yer car."

"It's okay.. this once." She sighed and tossed the shoprag onto the engine block. "I'm not going to mess with it anymore right now. And... you're right in a way. It's not much to look at right now. But I'll have it up and running. It just needs a LOT. And I have to get bits and parts as I can. And it's slow putting things together on my rare time off. So.. hey. Eventually I'll have a real sweet muscle car that would be the envy of everyone." She gave a pat to the hood and then slammed it closed.

"What else does it need?" Beach took the heavy toolbox from her hand and fell in beside her as she headed towards the motorpool.

"Oh.. just a bunch of stuff. I already got those new carbs.. gotta get a radiator.. gonna rebuild the brakes probably. Maybe need two new wheel hubs entirely.. if I can't break those loose. Right now the left rear is frozen up completely." She smiled to herself as she thought about the work she'd be doing to her project car.

"A new fender?" He smiled slyly as she swatted his arm. "Sorry.. it does need the fender.. even I can see it missin'."

"Yes.. but I have the fender. I just have to beat the dents out and primer it." She pointed to her workbench. "Drop the tools over there." He set the toolbox down and placed the box of carburetor next to it. Standing on the lift, she swiped her security card and punched the button to take them down to the messhall level. "You want some lunch?"

Jumping into place as the lift began to descend, BeachHead gave her a shrug. "Sure. I could eat."

"You could always eat, Ranger man. Never met a guy who ate so much and gained no weight." She gave a poke at his belly, making him frown at her.

"I work it off. If'n I don't eat as much as I do, I'd lose weight and then Doc makes me drink them protein drinks and junk. Rather eat food especially if Roadblock is doing the cookin' in the messhall." They arrived at the lower level and stepped off to walk down the corridor to the messhall itself.

As they passed by the offices, Flint's voice called out to Beach. "Sergeant major!" Beach's face settled into a resigned expression as he turned back. Stepping in the doorway, he raised an eyebrow at the warrant officer. "Beach.. I need those requisitions for the new armor for your newest greenshirts."

BeachHead narrowed his eyes. "I already sent those up. It's only three sets."

"Three sets is three sets I have to approve." Flint's voice became steely. "Don't be sending requisitions over my head. They come to me.. and I'll send them on after I check on them and approve them."

"I sent them to you. I didn't go sending nothin' over yer danged head. Gawd knows everyone has to have yer opinion on whether I need a couple sets of armor." The burly Ranger twitched and crossed his arms, feeling his skin crawl at confronting his adversary without his usual mask and tactical vest. It was strictly mental, still made him more irritable.

"Don't give me that tone." Flint leveled a finger at him. "You can't be just doing whatever you want just because you're in charge of the greenies. I want those forms now!"

"Look through yer danged inbox. Ain't my job to find yer lost paperwork." Before Flint could retort, Beach turned to leave. "I'm headed to lunch.. it's my danged day off. Ask me about it tomorrow if'n ya ain't found it." He strode down to the messhall, collecting CoverGirl on the way from where she was waiting patiently. "Danged Flint."

"He giving you guff over something again?" She tucked her arm through BeachHead's and smiled as he shifted to walk closer to her side. "Don't pay attention to him.. you know he's just trying to get you riled up."

"He's good at doin' it. Ain't no nevermind." He entered the messhall to find it packed with people. His arm slipped away from hers. "Great.. keep yer eyes peeled fer a table."

"Oh screw a table. Let's get sandwiches and drinks and eat up top. It's gorgeous weather." She headed for the side table where a huge stack of pre-made sandwiches and items for lunches to go were stacked and waiting for those Joes that needed to grab a fast lunch.

"Alright." He followed her over, ignoring the curious looks from a few teammates already seated. Gathering up a couple roast beef on rye sandwiches and a bag of chips, he tucked an apple into a thigh pocket and grabbed up a bottle of water. Watching Courtney gather up a sandwich and a drink, he picked up a wrapped slice of pound cake and tucked that into a thigh pocket as well before she turned to gesture to the door.

"Come on, Beach.. where shall we eat?" Her light teasing tone caught his attention. "Shall we go desecrate your PT course?"

He rolled his eyes and nodded at the lift they'd just descended. "Sure... maybe I'll have ya on the course without havin' to scream at ya fer a change."

"You better not be screaming at me during lunch on my day off. I'll have to kneecap you." She nudged him in the ribs as they exited. A few casual greetings were shouted to CoverGirl as she exited the motorpool. She gave them a wave and moved more quickly. "Come on.. " She lengthened her stride and enjoyed the sunshine and mild weather. "It's so nice out today."

"Yep." He motioned. "Ya wanna sit under the A-frame? Get some shade." They headed that direction.

Her sarcastic reply didn't surprise him. "No Beach.. I thought we'd sit in one of the mudpits," she said. He grimaced as she snickered at him. "A-frame is fine.. I'd like a bit of shade and we won't have to worry as much about people staring at us."

"Ain't no one out here to go starin' at us. Folks don't tend to come out on the PT courses 'less they got to." Beach stood to the side while she crouched and walked under the bracing board to pick out a spot on the thick grass underneath the obstacle. Once she was settled, he settled onto his heels and duck-walked into place beside her. Dropping onto one hip, he sat his food down and dug out the apple and cake. Handing the slice of pound cake to her, he shrugged slightly. "Sorry.. guess it's a little squashed. Thought you'd like cake too."

"Thanks Beach!" She accepted it and put it aside. "Squashed don't matter!" They unwrapped and ate their lunches in relative silence. CoverGirl concentrated on her sandwich, occasionally watching her companion as he peered out. "What are you looking for?"

"Nuthin'." He ducked his head down and finished off his apple, eating the core as she made a face. "What?"

"Why do you eat the whole apple?" She applied herself to the cake, licking her fingers.

"Why not? Ain't no sense in wastin' a chunk of apple." Leaning back, he itched his back against the inside of the A-frame wall a couple times. "Cake good?"

"Yep. I was more hungry than I thought." She scooted over to sit next to him, leaning on his shoulder and smiling up at him briefly. "Thanks. This was a nice picnic."

"I guess it was." His weathered face tilted to look at her against him. "Am I doin' okay?"

She laughed softly. "What do you mean, 'are you doing okay'?"

He looked aside and took a deep breath. "Well.. you know.. in this whole.. togetherness stuff. I'm not screwin' up too much?"

Her serious expression reassured him. "Yes, you're doing just fine. As long as you stop dissing my car.. you should be fine." She waited a few seconds while he relaxed. "You could do something though."

"What would that be?" He'd settled back against the wall at her answer.

"You could kiss me." She smiled. "You know.. just on occasion.. once in a while?"

He inhaled and looked at her. "Ya mean.. like now?"

Bending over, she laughed. She didn't want to.. but it just was so absurd that the confident self-assured Ranger was so very very out of his depth in at least one area of his life. "Sorry. Yes. Now would be nice."

He waited for her to stop laughing at him. "It's not all that funny." When she started to open her mouth to retort, he bent over and kissed her. His lips pressed hers and when she would have pulled back startled, his hand came up to cup her head in place. When his lips parted slightly, she licked her tongue out to taste him, enticing him to respond warmly.

After a few minutes they parted, and she blinked up at his hungry gaze. She smiled tentatively. "Well.. that was nice. Takes a while to get you there.. but you sure produce once you get going."

"Glad you approve of my kissin' abilities. I'd hate to think I'd hafta run ya down every time I wanna kiss ya." The hand that held her head drifted downwards to stroke along her cheek softly. "You taste so good."

"Mmm.. I probably taste like motor oil and cake." Her smile made her eyes sparkle with mischief.

"Then that's one awfully tasty combo." He leaned towards her again, stopping just shy of touching her lips again, letting her complete the offer and fasten her lips to his. Her soft moan made him inhale deeply. His face turned aside slightly and she kissed along his cheek gently. "Did ya hear somethin'?"

"No.. didn't hear anything." Her hand turned his face back to kiss her lips again. "Hmm... yes.."

"SERGEANT MAJOR??"

Both of them turned to look towards the shout. BeachHead cursed softly under his breath. "Dang stupid greenshirt.."

"Who is that?" CoverGirl leaned across his lap slightly to peer out. "One of the greenies? One with a death wish?"

He sighed. "Ya could say that... " His voice raised to yell loudly. "WHAT WILLIAMS??"

"Sergeant major!! There's an issue in the barracks! I think you need to come right away!" The urgency in the private's voice made Beach's cursing get louder.

"AH AIN'T ON DUTY TODAY!!" He waited for the inevitable reply. "That boy is gonna die."

"BUT MOUTH SORTA SAID STUFF AND NOW BUYOUR HAS ACETYLENE!" Williams had begun to have a slight note of panic.

He twisted to kiss her quickly. "Sorry.. "

"Beach! You're OFF-duty." Her half-hearted protest made him sigh.

"I know.. I know.. but if there's some problem... ain't like they'll work it out themselves.. I'm sorry!" He got up and climbed out from under the A-frame. "WILLIAMS!! There danged well BETTER be a danged fire!"

"Not when I left.. but might be by the time we get there, Sergeant major!" Williams trotted over to the annoyed Ranger, nodding to CoverGirl when she emerged behind him. "Corporal CoverGirl." His polite greeting was brief as he turned to head towards the upper barracks that the greenshirts used. "Sergeant major.. you better get over there.."

"I know.. I know. I swear ya'll greenies are gonna regret this.." He followed after, casting a last apologetic glance at the tank jockey who kicked the grass angrily and clenched her teeth, reminding herself that it wasn't BeachHead's fault.. it was his rank and his job to take care of things no matter what hour of what day.. even if he might be messing around with his almost-girlfriend.

Pressing her lips together firmly, she gave the A-frame a last kick. "Dammit."

* * * *

End chapter

Yess.. Private Williams continues to manage to put himself into danger's path. How long WILL he survive doing these things? Thank you for reading, and as always feel free to review or message!