AUTHOR'S NOTE: I HAD TO LAUGH AT HPOTTERLIVES REVIEW. I THINK HE/SHE HIT IT ON THE HEAD. I MUST LIKE TO HEAR MYSELF TALK. I'M A LITTLE CONFUSED THAT IT TOOK HIM/HER NINETEEN CHAPTERS TO FIGURE THAT ONE OUT THOUGH. THIS IS ACTUALLY TAKING LONGER THAN THE WAR..AND THE SERIES COMBINED. POINT TAKEN, SIR/MADAM. I SHALL WRAP THE STORY UP QUICKLY AND THANK YOU FOR THE TIMELY REMINDER. IT IS APPRECIATED AND WARRANTED, I'M THINKING. HAHAHAHAHA! I, PERSONALLY, WAS INTERESTED TO KNOW WHAT SAUNDERS DID AFTER HE WAS RELEASED FROM THE ARMY BUT, IF YOU SAY IT'S ENOUGH, THEN SO BE IT. I ALWAYS LISTEN..AND HEED, MY READERS ADVISE.
Chapter Twenty (All In A Day's Work...)
Darcy Taylor lay her purse aside, taking the one pin from her hat, pulling it from the top knot of red curls. She put the frilly thing aside, her gaze on the man who roamed the hotel room searching out points of interest. He stepped out on the small balcony, looking down on the busy street and sidewalks below the fourth floor perch.
"I hope you like the room." She smiled tentatively at him, catching his attention. She stepped around his field pack, the one he had carelessly dropped to the side of the four poster double bed that centered the area. She came at length, to stand beside him. "You would think they would be winding down by now." She quipped, the rivalry still very much apparent below.
The silence was uncomfortable for the woman, but not 'Chip Saunders'. He reached, searching for her hand, intertwining his fingers with her's. "The room is great, Darcy." He turned his head to the inquisitive green eyes. "Everything is.." He shook his head, then returned his stare to the people below. "...I'm not used to this." He released her fingers, leaning on the railing, his cane left on the bed inside.
She wasn't sure if he meant the entire situation or..the little niceties of 'home'. "It will take time to..acclimate." Enrico Fermi had warned her that a soldier's moods might be somewhat erratic and unpredictable for a while. "It's all different, isn't it."
"Yeah." He stared transfixed and she wondered what he was seeing that she couldn't.
The heavy drapes of the french doors were a dark sage green, complimenting the plush carpet with it's black diamond design and soft cream tuft. She had noted the quietness Saunders had exhibited in the lobby.
The hotel was one of the better ones in the upper East side of the city. Steeped in tradition with an understated elegance, recommended by Dr. Oppenheimer himself. The establishment reeked of old world class. Perhaps the soldier felt uncomfortable in such surroundings.
"Do you need some 'down time'?" She asked. "Do you want to be alone for a while?"
The man didn't answer immediately, simply turned his head, seemingly interested in a group of young sailors down the street. There were several car loads, holding up traffic. The sailors ran from car to car, most of them open topped, filled with pretty young women..the men gathered kisses like they were tokens from a slot machine.
She smiled gently at the scene but then turned anxious eyes to the man, waiting for a reply..an acknowledgment of some sort that she was still welcome.
"...I've been alone."
She pondered the quiet statement, lowering her head. A soft wind filtered up from the street, cooling the heat of the day. Darcy felt the implications of his words. She lifted tear-filled eyes. "I'm sorry."
Saunders watched her face, his own stoic..carefully masked. "..what are you sorry for?" He stared down at her.
"That.." She swallowed the need to weep, her heart hurting for the man. "You had to..b-be...away so long. That you feel so lousy n-now."
He stepped, his hand brushing about her waistline. "I don't feel lousy." He smiled at her "..not when I'm..with you."
"You don't?" She sniffed, putting on a brave face for him. She had a feeling he was trying to make it better for her, but she had no idea how to turn the tables for the man. The green eyes searched his features religiously. Her hand touched his cheek. "I'm glad..then." She brightened her smile. "What shall we do? You name it, soldier."
He grinned impishly, then rubbed the bridge of his nose, ducking his head a bit then glanced out over the crowds again below. He cut her a mischievous look. "You really want me to answer that?"
She glanced at the double bed, then back to him. "Yes, I really want you to answer that."
The man leaned on the wrought iron railing of the balcony, breathing in a deep, cleansing breath. "Guess we could go..get a burger." The prospect was like a cold splash of water on a hot day. Part of it felt nice, another sucked the wind from his soul. He was back in civilized society. Back..where he was expected to conform to a set way of life and rules. He had survived on instinct for so long that he..wasn't sure he could function any other way.
She nodded thoughtfully, stepping into the cool darkness of the room. All the drapes had been pulled against the afternoon sun, and with the breeze coming from the street, the room was cool and filtered. She took the pins from her hair, shaking the red mass free. She unbuttoned the first few buttons of her top, turning back to the man.
"Yeah, we could do that." She nodded amiably. She kicked off the red heels, unzipping the side of her skirt, stepping out of the silk material. She tossed it on the end of the bed. She wore a flimsy white slip and matching bra. She tried to be very nonchalant as she finished with the buttons on the ruffled top, slipping it from her shoulders, laying it neatly over the wing-back chair beside her. "Can I freshen up a bit? It's so sticky down there."
She walked the soft carpet, her legs shaking for her boldness, the cool air feeling wonderful on her exposed flesh. She could feel Saunder's stare. She stopped, lifting her leg to the seat of the desk chair, unhooking the tab of her garter belt, then the other. "These things are a fortune but I'll tell you..be lucky you don't have to wear them." She smiled over to the man, rolling down the stockings slowly. "Maybe now the War is over, they might come down in price."
The man stepped slowly back into the room, his frame silhouetted against the backdrop of the bright day. Taylor was too nervous to stand still, so she finished with the stockings, padding barefoot to the adjoining bathroom. She turned the tap on the sink, seeking a wash cloth.
"Well, the War isn't over yet, but..you know what I mean." She wet the cloth, wringing it dry, dabbing the cool wetness to her neck and face. "Ohh, that feels wonderful." She placed the cloth on the back of her neck, seeking him out. "It's just too hot for clothes. I would love to change into something more comfortable. I have some jeans and a top."
She looked him over. He had followed her movements and stood now, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom. "...Do you have to wear the jacket?" She didn't know the protocol. "Is it allowed? Just the shirt?"
Saunders glanced at his attire. "I'm used to it." He took the jacket off, hanging it over the back of the desk chair. He loosened his tie.
"If you want, I can stick to the dress and skirt."
"No." He shrugged. "I kinda like..this." he motioned slightly to what she wasn't wearing.
She grinned at him, laying the cloth aside. "Not sure if there's a dress code at the burger place?" She quipped. "But, I'm not going to take the risk."
"..This feels...nice." He had sought for the word, shoving his hands into the pockets of his fatigues..
"What?" She questioned.
He shrugged the stocky shoulders again. "This...the room. You." His eyes traveled the meager clothing. "It feels..natural."
"Well, it's not like you haven't seen it all before." She tried for a lightness she didn't feel as yet. "It's rather..silly to .." She was at a loss. "...Pretend otherwise..yes?" She walked, placing the cool cloth to his cheek. "You're not even sweating." She frowned for the fact. "Are you feeling alright?"
She touched his forehead with the back of her fingers but he felt normal. Her scowl deepened.
"It's hotter." He explained. "Over there. Especially wearing your pack."
"Tough soldier guy, huh." She teased.
"Yeah..something like that." He had been careful to keep his eyes level with her's. But what he couldn't do was..keep his hands off her. He had to touch her. He had to.
So..he did. Reaching..his palm flattening on the shapely waist. She did not pull away or flinch. He liked the touch of her hand on his sleeve, her fingers traced the bulges of his muscles and her smile told him, she liked what she touched.
He never thought much before about his body but suddenly, he was glad he had lead an active life style. If one good thing came out of that fucking place..maybe it was that..this woman seemed to like that he was in shape.
She moved to him, her lips touching his lightly, pressing gently..warmly..to his mouth. She pulled back slightly, the emerald eyes watching him. He wasn't sure what to do. "I..don't know what you expect from me." He decided to be straight with her. "..Not here." He motioned minutely, meaning..in such a time and place.
"Yes you do." She corrected easily, her touch on his chest warm and inviting even though his shirt. "Here..over there. What does it matter?" She was confused. "It has nothing to do with..that. But, a woman.." She reminded gently. "Can't set the rules, Sarge. And I don't think you're the type of man who would want it any other way. Are you?"
"The rules here are..different."
"Not for me." She shrugged slender shoulders. "Not where you are concerned. I've said it two times now but you..haven't." She was hesitant about the subject matter. "..And that has me a little worried, to tell you the truth but..it doesn't change anything for me."
Saunders didn't pretend to misunderstand. "I'm in for another six months..if the Japs come to their senses and ..it's really over soon but, I can't promise anything, Darcy. If I have to go back in.." He let it hang between them.
"I'm not asking for promises." She moved from him, her scowl more confused than angry.
"It's a different enemy we'll be facing. There will be training." He wanted things clear between them. "That's another three months before..."
"I have a job." She stated, embracing herself, her arms folded protectively about the small frame. "I...I don't need..anything from you, Sarge..nothing but..."
Darcy turned aside, too prideful to ask it.
"That's not how it's going to be." Saunders' temper flared. "You think I won't take care of you? You think I can't?"
"...I think you have obligations." She spoke quietly, calmly. "Your mom..your sister." The woman shifted to the angry blue gaze. "I can keep working. I would want to. I have money. I can help ou..."
"Don't say it!" He turned aside, his pride stung. "My wife won't work."
Darcy...paled as his words sank in. The silence was...more than strained. For Saunders realized what he had said and..the woman. Well, Darcy Taylor was stunned into silence for once.
Saunders jerked his head to the side, thinking rapidly..his entire system on 'alert'. Had he meant it? He hadn't thought that far ahead..had he? He couldn't afford.. Hell, he was still in the Army. If he could get a civilian job, he might be able to..
"You equate sex with marriage." Darcy let him off the hook. "An honorable ideology but..a little antiquated in this day and age. I ..fully intend to continue my career even when..or if..I marry." She went into the room, crossing the spacious room. She took her silk top from the back of the chair, shrugging into the sleeves. "I love what I do. I'm good at it. I won't give it up."
The man watched her dress, her movements jerky, her own anger transferred to the action. She stepped into her skirt, zipping the side with an uneven slide. "Not even for you." She threw him an angry stare then, moved to her heels, struggling into the smart heels.
Saunders watched as she grabbed her purse, threw open the door and left the room.
The silence came and stayed. The man stared at the closed door for a very long time. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. He walked to his jacket, fishing for a cigarette. He sat on the bed, lighting the smoke.
He glanced about the room. He noted her nylons..hanging on the back of the desk chair. He arose, crossing..taking the stockings in his hands. He sat heavily in the chair, running the material through his fingers. He rubbed the edge of his thumb over his brow, closing his eyes to the sinking feeling in his stomach.
He sat, in the silence..his thoughts varied and confused. His mood dark and somber. What the fuck had he just done? Why wasn't he going after her? What the hell was he just sitting here? Like a fucking idiot.
He had no answers. He glanced at the phone on the table by the bed. He should call his Mother. She didn't even know he had landed.
He leaned, placing his forearms on his thighs, his head bowed. His head was hurting. The tension streaked through his shoulders and temples. He needed a drink.
The man forced himself up, grabbed his jacket and went in search of the only friend he would find today, he imagined. He had seen a bar just off the lobby. The sooner he got there, the sooner he would feel better.
He hesitated outside Taylor's door, just staring at the number embossed in raised gold. His hand reached out, stroking the plaque lovingly once. His hand fell away and..he continued on down the hallway to the elevator.