Sunday morning.
"Diana…I'm hungry."
She rolled her eyes and peeked out of the small and very yellow bathroom in no more then a worn white towel, demanding, "Well what do you want me to do about it?"
"You made me hungry," he countered.
She scowled and went back in the bathroom, declaring, "I didn't tell you to go on a ten mile run." She then turned her attention to the bathroom mirror and worked on plucking her dark eyebrows. They were naturally well shaped, but there was a rogue hair now and then.
The bathroom door opened and in he strolled. Still wearing the little PT Shorts that hardly covered anything. They just managed to keep the important parts covered. She looked at him in the mirror, catching him peeking at the bottom of her bottom as she leant across the sink. "There's a little diner I saw on my way in. You're going to have to shower. I seriously doubt they'll let you in like that."
His eyes never left her legs, "Did you leave me any hot water?"
"Nope. But there's a spider in there. So you don't have to shower alone."
For a moment he glanced at the worn shower curtain and then grabbed the bottom of her towel and yanked it off. Which prompted her to glance over her shoulder at him, clearly outraged. He used the towel to mop his sweaty face and chest.
She pointed to the uneven rack of towels on the wall.
"Those don't smell nice," he replied, as he hooked the towel around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. She was almost amused. Had he not been so sweaty and gritty she would have been, "I'm going to need another shower now."
"Thank God, I was afraid I'd have to shower alone…I could have drowned."
The Bon Jovi Roadside Diner…
Emma-Mae was the waitress.
She strongly resembled Dolly Parton and wore the skimpiest little pink dress under her white apron, Emma-Mae was about sixty years old and had enough make-up on her face to keep Covergirl in business for the next thirty years.
"What can I get you hon," she asked Jeff after taking down Diana's order for a coke and Greek Omelet."
"Are you serving lunch," he asked, his legs entwined with Diana's beneath the small red tabletop. Greasy menu in hand. "Anything for you Sug, we cater to the Army here," she replied with a wink.
Diana beamed at the flirtatious waitress.
Sanderson closed his menu and handed it to her, "Then I'll have a coke and a chili cheese bacon burger with jalapenos."
Emma-Mae smiled sweetly and sauntered off, Diana pouted, "You're going to give me heartburn." She then grinned, "But…if you play this right, you could probably get lucky with Emma-Mae."
With a deep breath he leant forward, completely covering the small corner table. A smile curled over his face when the sound of her shoe hitting the floor was followed by her foot coming to rest on his lap.
"She'd give me lead poisoning," he murmured, "And I doubt she's anywhere near nimble as you are." Then he took her hands from across the table and admired her fingers, her palms, and knuckles. He kissed them, "Thank you for coming over."
With a squeeze she gave him a smile. Everything was in that smile. Assurance and compassion, everything that she knew he'd feel ashamed if she told him aloud. But the look alone told him everything. She'd do anything for him.
That night…
Bag over his shoulder, Sanderson strolled casually into the barracks and signed in with the watchman, three minutes before seven, when the NCOs were required to return for inspection, their weekend over.
The watchman glared, "Cutting it a little close are we Sergeant Major Sanderson?"
His gaze was cold.
Jeff beamed at him, "Whatever you say big-boy." He winked and dropped the pen and strolled into the common area, down the hall and towards his room.
Past much younger men and women, all who whispered conspiratorially about where he had been, what he had been doing, and who he had been with.
Colonel Ioan Martin's voice came from an open doorway, "Sergeant Major, you have two minutes to spare. Are you trying to get yourself smoked already?"
Jeff turned and saluted the colonel.
He then replied with, "Definitely sir."
"Did you enjoy your weekend?"
"A gentleman never tells, sir."
With a nod the higher-ranking officer remarked, "I'd get your quarters squared away for inspection."
