A Friendly Demonstration
Chapter 36
Gill left early the next morning, after a hasty breakfast of coffee and toast, heading back to St John's Wood and after her departure, the rest of the week seemed to alternately fly past and then drag its heels as Harm waited impatiently for the weekend so that he and Gill could be together again. Despite their nightly phone calls, he still had so much to tell her, things that couldn't be said over the phone, and things that he wanted to see her reaction to as he told her.
In the meantime duty had to be attended to and one of the more important items that fell under that category was Jen's report on what were no less than abuses of the SOFA. Reading through the file he felt nauseated by the range of crimes that had been swept under the carpet by the US Forces in Britain; they ran the gamut of DUI to causing death by dangerous driving before descending to the darker depths of two rapes and at least one homicide. In all of these cases the US military authorities had claimed jurisdiction and then shipped the suspected offender out of the country before he or in two cases, she, could be brought to trial. But before Harm could make any recommendations, or even before he could report his suspicions upwards, he needed to go through all four service (he could exclude the Coast Guard from his research) court-martial records to make absolutely sure that individuals named on Jen's report had not been tried by court-martial. At the same time, thinking back to other instances, Peru, Japan or Indonesia, for example, where misbehaviour by a US serviceman had resulted in chaos and rioting, he thanked God that the British public were far more phlegmatic and not so volatile.
The problem was now that he had the report, what to do with it. Strictly speaking, he had trespassed onto territory that was the province of the Office of the Judge Advocate USAREUR and the USAF Europe Judge Advocate General, and he was bound to inform those offices of his findings. However, if he did that before informing his own chain of command then he would be undoubtedly in for a very rough ride from General Cresswell, and he winced as he remembered A J Chegwidden's words of warming, "That man doesn't like you." He could only hope that Cresswell's sense of duty, of honour, even, would override his antipathy towards Harm and he would read and then forward the damning report up through the SecNav to eventually arrive on the desk of the SecDef. With a sigh, he pressed the call button on his desk intercom.
"Yes sir?"
"Come on in, please, Legalman One!" he directed Jen.
Jen almost immediately tapped on the door and in response to his "Enter!" marched in to the office and stood waiting in front of his desk.
"Coates, I need you to burn two copies of this report, and all the supporting documentation on to disc. Then I want you to delete the report and documents, and any and all references to it from your computer hard drive as well as incinerating any hard copies of any and all portions of the report that you have. Once that has been done, I want one copy of the disc or discs to secure in my safe, and I want to draft a covering letter on respect of the second copy to General Cresswell – we can do that later. Any questions?"
Jen was well aware of the incendiary nature of the report, and was concerned for Harm's future career, but as an enlisted member it was not her place to voice her concerns to a Captain. She merely looked at him levelly and replied, "Understood, sir. No questions."
Harm, however, was used to Jen, her facial expressions and her body language, and managed to muster up a rueful smile as he said, "Relax, Coates. I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing."
Jen let a flash of concern show in her eyes as she dropped her rigidly disapproving stance and looked him in the eye, "I hope so, sir!"
"Just do as I ask, please Legalman One."
"Of course, sir," Jen answered taking the report from Harm's hand.
"Thank you, dismiss!"
Not everything at work was doom and gloom, that afternoon Julia Martinez tapped on his office door jamb and entered, a file folder in her hand and a smile on her face.
"Yes, Yeoman Two, why the big grin?" Harm asked with some amusement as she placed the folder in his in-tray and collected the stack of completed work from his out-tray.
"Oh… that folder, sir. The contents of which were just delivered by special messenger…"
"And I take it from your expression that it is good news?"
"I think so sir… well… at least, I hope it is…" Julia finished somewhat less certainly as she became aware of the sardonic light in Harm's eyes.
Now intrigued Harm reached for the folder and opened it. It contained only one item, a heavy, good quality cream-coloured card embossed with copperplate script which as he read, his eyebrows rose slightly and a smile spread across his face. "Did you read this, Yeoman Two?"
"Of course, sir, it came in an official envelope addressed to the 'Force Judge Advocate General'!"
Harm nodded, he knew that if the envelope had been addressed to 'Captain H D Rabb USN', it would have arrived on his desk unopened.
"And that brought the smile to your face?" he asked in voice full of irony.
"Oh, yes sir, it gives you the opportunity to liaise with the Brits in a social environment, sir!"
Harm glowered across the desk and his impertinent subordinate. She had said nothing to which he could take exception, but he knew, he just knew, that she wasn't referring to the Royal Navy in general, but to one particular Brit. This was just another example of a losing skirmish in the on-going office war of words.
Taking refuge in the dignity of his position Harm fought down a grin of his own, "Thank you, Yeoman Two. That will be all!"
Julia restrained her own smile and with a tolerable attempt at a straight face answered, "Aye, aye, sir!" and smartly turning about, made her exit, leaving Harm at leisure to re-read the card:
The President and Members of the Wardroom of HMS Nelson
Request the Pleasure of the Company of
Captain Harmon D Rabb, United States Navy, and his Lady
At a Ball to celebrate the Two Hundredth Anniversary of the Battle of Trafalgar
To be held in the Wardroom, HMS Nelson, at Her Majesty's Naval Base, Portsmouth
On Friday 21st October 2005 at 1930 for 2000 hours
Dress: Mess Dress with Miniature Medals RSVP
Harm smiled again, this wouldn't just afford him an opportunity for social liaison with the Royal Navy, but would also allow him to appear in public at a formal event with Gill on his arm… of he could persuade her to attend. For a moment he debated whether to call her now or wait until this evening, but the anticipation of her acceptance (he refused to think for an instant that she would decline) won out over their general rule not to call each other at work. He stretched out his hand for the phone on his desk and only to release a muttered "Damn!" as it rang before he could pick it up.
"Yes!?" he almost snapped.
Julia Martinez's, calm, efficient voice came through the handset to his ear, "Captain Shephard on line one for you, sir!"
Although Harm tried to sound casual, he completely failed to fool Julia, who clearly heard the pleasure in his voice as he said, "Put her through, please, Yeoman Two!" he waited for the clock to tell him the connection was made before he said, "Hey, soldier…"
"Hi, sailor…" Gill's lightly amused, and to Harm's ear slightly excited voice came through clearly.
"What's with the break in protocol?" he teased her gently.
"Umm… I have a question, or rather a couple of questions for you…"
"Okay… go ahead…"
"Do you have a date yet for Mattie's arrival in the UK?" Gill asked.
"No… but we've given a week's window from an RTM Date of October twenty-fourth…"
"RTM?" Gill queried.
"Yeah, Ready To Move. I've put the wheels in motion to have the name on her passport changed, and that will go through as soon as I get the paperwork from McLean, Virginia…"
"And she's going straight into Stoke Mandeville, right?"
"Yeah… well, that's the plan at the moment."
"Just checking… So you're going to be pretty well tied up with getting ready for her arrival and getting her settled once she arrives, right?"
"Yeah, I guess…" Harm answered, trying to figure out where Gill was going.
"So… what do you say to a weekend of debauchery before she gets here?"
Harm nearly choked, "What!? Say that again!"
"Well, not actual debauchery," Gill giggled, delighted having got a rise out of Harm, "But I've just received an invitation – courtesy of my big brother – to the Two Hundredth Anniversary of Trafalgar Ball…"
"At HMS Nelson on October Twenty-first?"
It was Gill's turn to be surprised, "Well, yes… but how…?"
"I've just received my own invitation, for myself and my lady," Harm grinned, "And I was reaching for the 'phone to call you to ask if you wanted to go with me when you beat me to the punch!"
"Oh… Of course I want to go! By all accounts it's a fabulous night! But this is rather awkward, Harm."
"How so?" he asked, his forehead creasing in a frown.
"This is another one of these damn etiquette minefields… I suspect yours is an official invitation, and it would be a tremendous slap in the face of the Nelson's wardroom for you to turn down their invitation, only to turn up as my escort for the evening! And it would be almost as bad for me to say no and then arrive on your arm!"
"Oh… I don't see how… but I'll take your word for it… Perhaps the best thing would be for us both to decline and…No! I've got an idea… leave this with me for a couple of hours, and if it works out, I'll explain this evening, okay?"
"You're not going to do anything extreme are you, Harm?"
"Hey, trust me, I'm a lawyer!" he chuckled.
"That's supposed to make me feel happier?" Gill asked incredulously, but Harm could hear the amusement in her voice.
"I'll let you know later!" Harm grinned, "'Bye, sweetheart."
"Yeah, 'bye…" Gill's voice faded into silence and Harm hung up the 'phone, debating for a minute or so the best way to approach the idea he'd had.
Finally another grin spread across his face and he stabbed the intercom call button. "Yes Sir?"
"Legalman One, pass the word for Lieutenants Tierney and Sullivan, please!"
"Aye, aye, sir!"
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Harm grinned, a grin that was swiftly hidden, as he noticed the nervous expressions on the faces of the two Lieutenants as they crossed the expanse of carpet between door and desk and halted in front of him. He knew, from his own experience, that they were frantically rummaging their brains for a clue as to what he might have found out that they'd done. For a moment or two he enjoyed their confusion – it was always good, he was learning, to keep people just a little off-balance. But finally taking pity on them he sat back in his chair and smiled, "Relax, and take a seat, both of you. You're not in trouble… unless of course there's something that you want to confess?"
The chorused "No, sir!" was so emphatic that Harm's smile broadened.
"Good! Now I don't like inquiring into my people's private lives, but for the moment I need to know whether or not you two are still dating?" In fact he was pretty sure they were, there had been no reverting to the kind of shenanigans that had marked the two officers' pre-dating days.
"Oh, yes, sir! Very much so!" Theresa Sullivan, after a quick glance at Brian Tierney, answered for them both.
Harm nodded in satisfaction, "Then Mister Tierney, I am about to do something totally reprehensible, I am about to ask Miss Sullivan to accompany me to a ball!"
Harm sat back, and hiding his grin once more, watched a succession of expressions cross both officers' faces. Eventually it was Theresa Sullivan who found her voice first, "Sir! I must protest… this is… highly irregular… in fact sir, I'm not sure that it doesn't fall under the heading of conduct unbecoming, after all I am under your direct command, and we've just told you we're dating!"
"Yes, you did, and yes, you are. And I must also ask the two of you to forgive me for winding you up slightly. The situation is a little more complex than at first sight it may seem. I have just received an invitation from the Royal Navy to attend their most important social event of the year – of the century, probably – the two hundredth Trafalgar Day Ball, and the invitation is for myself and my lady…."
"But I thought you and…" Sullivan started before she realised what she had been about to say and she bit her tongue, blushed and lapsed into silence.
Harm however, showed no sign of taking offence, "And you are quite right! However, Captain Shephard has also received an invitation to attend the same ball. And therein lays the problem." Harm leaned forward, his forearms on his desk and his hands lightly clasped on top of the blotter.
"There are two of us and four invitations. Normally, one of us would just decline our invitation, but apparently Royal Navy Mess etiquette would make it a grave insult to refuse an invitation, and then turn up as somebody else's plus one. So what I have in mind, is for Miss Sullivan to attend as my 'official' escort, and for you Mister Tierney to attend as Captain Shephard's' official' escort. Of course, once we're at the ball, I can't see anyone objecting to our choice of dance partners!" he grinned expansively at the further expressions of surprise and then pleasure and acceptance that spread across Theresa Sullivan's face, expressions that also showed on Brian Tierney's face, but were then succeeded by a look of caution.
"Uh… when, where and what dress, sir?" he asked.
"Friday, October twenty-first, at HMS Nelson, Portsmouth and the dress is Winter Mess Dress with medals, for the ladies too, as it's an official function. Does that pose a problem?"
Theresa shook her head, "No problem, sir. I'll make sure our calendars are kept clear!"
"Good!" Harm grunted, "Now, because of the distance involved, I'll have my Yeoman organise overnight accommodation. I suspect that the Wardroom at Nelson will be full, and if so, then I'll organise hotel rooms, and as it's an official function, they will be on the Navy's dime, and I'll also arrange for transport to and from Portsmouth. Any questions? No? Good! We'll go firm on details a little nearer the date!"
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The early part of the evening was easily taken care of, Harm did some careful measuring and having done some exploring on the internet and then jumped into the Subaru and made tracks to the local DIY Superstore, where a half an hour's dedicated shopping saw him loading the SUV with lengths of timber and four pieces of marine quality plywood.
Back home, he laid out the three longer lengths of four by four timber so that one end rested on the top step in front of the door and the other end rested on the footpath and then taking his measuring tape and pencil; he marked off four sections on each length where the cross pieces would sit, and then took up his saw.
During the course of the few minutes it took to saw the necessary cuts on one of the long lengths Harm became aware that he had an audience. Looking up from his task he saw he was being regarded with friendly amusement by a stocky fair-haired man of about the same age as himself, dressed neatly in grey slacks and a royal blue polo shirt. Cursing silently at the interruption, Harm stood up and asked politely, "Hi, may I help you?"
"Well… I was thinking that maybe the shoe was on the other foot. I'm Tim Davenport, by the way, from number twenty-three opposite. I've been away on a little job for a while and got back the day before yesterday. My wife tells me that you're American Navy?" Davenport said in a slow, lazy, upper class English drawl which almost set Harm's neck hairs bristling, but the other smile in a welcoming manner and held out a hand in greeting.
"Yeah, Harmon Rabb, I'm the Force Judge Advocate for the Navy in Europe."
"Pleased to meet you!" Davenport said, taking Harm's hand in a firm. But not bone-crushing grip. "A little extracurricular carpentry?" he nodded towards the lengths of timber.
Harm nodded. "Yeah, my daughter's joining me in a few weeks, and I need to make a couple of ramps, front and rear for her wheelchair."
Davenport nodded, "So… what's the plan?"
"The three longer lengths are the longitudinal pieces; two sides and one central, the shorter lengths are the stringers. One at each end and the third and fourth a third of the way from each end, then cover the whole with the plywood."
Davenport nodded knowledgeably, "Halving joints for the stringers?" he asked.
Harm paused to make a quick re-evaluation of this new lazy-sounding neighbour, "Yeah, that's right…"
Davenport nodded, "Want a hand? I'm no master carpenter, but I'm not too bad with hand tools…"
"Uh… that's very generous, but I couldn't take up your time…" Harm began.
"Nonsense! It'll do me good to get out of the house for an hour or so! I'm totally outnumbered, wife and three daughters. I'll just pop back and grab my tools!" and he turned on his heel and strode briskly back across the street, returning in a couple of minutes with an evidently heavy tool box.
"Right, if you carry on with the sawing, I'll chisel out the halvings!" he said cheerfully and took a mallet and chisel from his box.
Harm watched the other for a minute or two until he was satisfied that Davenport knew what he was doing and returned to his work.
Twenty minutes later with the sawing finished, Harm took up his own mallet and chisel and the two men worked companionably for a further hour until both were covered in a sheen of perspiration, sawdust and wood chippings.
"That's the last of them!" Harm said in satisfaction, but then shook his head, "I didn't get any glue, I figured I wouldn't be ready for that until tomorrow, so thanks for your help! Would a beer be of any use?"
"It would indeed," Tim Davenport grinned, "But as for not having any glue to hand, try this!" He handed Harm a glue gun which held a clear plastic cylinder, "That's a litre of an absolutely superb glue, sticks like toffee to a blanket!"
It was the work of only ten minutes more for the framework to be glued together and the joints clamped while the glue cured, which Tom told Harm would take about twenty-four hours, "So it'll be solid enough to screw the surface into place tomorrow!" Tom finished triumphantly as Harm led him into the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab the promised beer.
"It's not much in the way of thanks," Harm apologised, "But…"
"But nothing!" Davenport said firmly, "It's ample repayment! And besides, I like working with my hands, I don't often get a chance anymore!"
"Oh?" Harm cocked an eyebrow, he'd always managed to find time for his projects, of course that meant that some of them lasted a lot longer than originally planned, but then again, when he was off duty his time was his own.
Davenport took a swallow of beer, "H'mm… good stuff… for a lager!" he grinned at Harm's expression. "Normally I'm a bitter man, but I can't abide the bottled or canned stuff, so if I have beer at home then I do drink lager. I hadn't tried this brew before; I'll have to look out for it in future!"
Harm nodded, although not really understanding, "So work keeps you pretty busy?" he asked, referring back to Davenport's comment about not having much opportunity for working with his hands.
"Not so much work, although deployments are coming around faster than ever, but with three teenage girls, all needing to be ferried to dance classes, stables, college and God knows what else, plus of course the usual shopping and the inevitable, 'when you've got a minute, dear…'" but the grin on his face told Harm that the man loved looking after his family and would happily spend every waking hour tending to their needs.
Harm swallowed a mouthful of beer and relaxed back against the kitchen work top, "How old are your girls?" he asked.
"The twins, Gemma and Rowan are fourteen and Karen is the oldest at sixteen."
"In that case, I might just come to you for some help and advice!" Harm grinned.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, Mattie's sixteen, she'll be seventeen in November, and she hasn't been mine very long, and then add that to the fact that we're both still adjusting to her being in a wheelchair…"
"Oh…" for a moment Davenport was flummoxed, "But your wife…?"
"Not any!" Harm grinned, "Well, not at the moment, and no immediate plans either!"
"Oh…so she's adopted... and you say that you're both adjusting to Mattie, wasn't it…?" he paused for Harm's nod of confirmation, "…being in a wheelchair, so not a congenital thing?"
"No… spinal injury after a crash."
Davenport grimaced, "That's tough! Well, if I or Bella – that's my wife – can be of any help, don't hesitate to ask!"
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind!" Harm assured his visitor, who had his head tipped back as he drained the last of his beer.
"Well, thanks for the drink, I'd best be off now, but I'll pop around tomorrow after endex and give you hand positioning those plywood sheets!"
"Yeah, that would be a great help! Thanks… Tim!" Harm said gratefully and pushed himself away from the work top to walk Tim Davenport out.
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A quick shower got rid of the detritus and a change into a pair of comfortable joggers and sweat shirt was all that Harm needed to ready himself for the remainder of the evening which consisted of cooking his dinner and eating it in solitary splendour before he cleaned up the kitchen, brewed a fresh pot of coffee and wandered into the living room, putting his coffee mug on the occasional table before he dropped onto the couch and picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Soldier!"
"Hi… How's my favourite sailor?" the pleasure in Gill's voice came plainly over the wires and warmed Harm's heart.
"He's feeling pretty good, and pretty proud of himself." Harm answered smugly.
Gill snuggled down against her pillows, the phone pressed firmly to her ear, "Oh… how so?"
"Well… I started on rigging ramps for the front and back doors for Mattie's chair and made much better progress than I'd hoped, mostly because one of my neighbours, a Tom Davenport, from across the street came over and introduced himself and then pitched in to help me out. So tomorrow, should see the first ramp finished."
"Oh Harm! All those weeks you've been there and he had to come and introduce himself? Shame on you!"
"Not guilty, ma'am! He's been on deployment and only got back a couple of days ago. We had a bit of a talk, and I am really going to have to play nice with him. It turns out he's got three teenaged daughters, so I might yet be begging him and his wife for advice on Mattie!"
"H'mm… could be useful," Gill chuckled, "as long as you don't make too much of a habit of it."
"Oh? Why not?" Harm asked.
"Well, you don't want to wear out your welcome, and besides I might get jealous!"
"Jealous? Whatever for? I've not even met the woman!" Harm protested.
"Not jealous that way!" Gill laughed, "Jealous, because I want time to get to know Mattie, and get her to trust me, so that when and if she does have problems she feels she can come to me!"
"Umm… that might take a bit of time…Mattie… well… after Mac, she's a bit protective of me. Oh, I know she told me to open my heart again, but if I know her, she's going to be a bit prickly and a bit suspicious…"
Unseen by Harm, Gill nodded, but also made a face, "Yes, I'd already worked out that one for myself, but from what you've said she's a bright young lady, so I'm hoping that she'll realise…." Gill suddenly cut herself off, realising that what she had been about to say was not the sort of thing that she could say to Harm just yet, especially not over the phone.
Harm stared at the phone in his hand for a second; it seemed the phone had suddenly gone dead, "Gill?"
"Yes, I'm here…"
"Oh… the phone sound dead for a second and I missed what you were saying about hoping for something between you and Mattie?"
"Oh, that! Yes, I said I was hoping that we'll get on okay together!"
"Well, of course I hope for the same thing too! But I'm sure we'll get it all smoothed out, even if there are a few bumps in the road!"
"H'mm… let's hope so… Oh, and while you're in a smoothing things out mood, did you come up with a solution to the Trafalgar Ball invitations?"
"I did! I've told you about Trouble and Strife, haven't I?"
"Your two fighting Irish Lieutenants? Yeeees," Gill replied doubtfully.
"Well, I invited Lieutenant Sullivan to be my escort for the night, and on your behalf, I invited Lieutenant Tierney, Brian, to be you escort."
"God! You didn't! Harm! Don't tell me they accepted?"
"Power down, Gill. Of course they accepted, it was an invitation from their Commanding Officer! And anyway, I have a sneaky suspicion that once we get to the ball, that you and I will find ourselves rapidly dumped by our soi-disant partners, and that being the case, what could be more natural than for us than seeking comfort in each other's company?"
"That… that is positively diabolical!" Gill protested with a laugh.
"Yeah, I'm quite proud of myself!" Harm preened.
"Well, you shouldn't be! You should be ashamed of yourself!" Gill chuckled.
"Why? All four of us get to spend the evening with the person we like the most in the whole world!" Harm defended himself.
"Well… I suppose, bearing that in mind that I could forgive you this time, sailor, just this once!"
"Then I shall sleep easy tonight!" Harm teased her.
"I won't," Gill demurred, but with her laugh still lurking in her voice, "Because I shall be too busy either dreaming of you, or counting the hours until tomorrow evening!"
"Nope, not feeling the guilt, here," Harm smirked.
"Damn! In that case, I'll see you guilt-ridden or not, at about eighteen-thirty hours tomorrow!"
"I'm already looking forward to it. Are you planning on staying over?"
"Absolutely!"
"In that case, until tomorrow. Goodnight sweetheart!"
"Goodnight!" Gill replied and put the phone down 'That's three times this week he's called me sweetheart… I wonder if he knows he's doing it? And I wonder if he means it? I do hope so!'
Harm put down his phone, "Dreaming of me, huh?" he said aloud and sank back against the couch's squabs, a sappy smile spreading across his face.
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Victor stopped at the front door, "I won't come up with you tonight, Jen," he said gruffly.
They had had, as far as Jen was concerned, an immensely enjoyable evening, a quiet corner table in the 'Saloon' bar of The Duke of Wellington, which had led them into a quiet, amicable conversation during which Jen pressed Victor to tell him about his family and listening, found herself wishing that she'd had a family more like his, instead of being the single child in a family that could have been used as a definition for the word 'dysfunctional', but even more, listening to Victor describe how he grew up surrounded by his sisters, she wished that she'd had siblings, perhaps they might have helped her stay on the straight and narrow. Pursuing that thought to its logical end she unintentionally blurted out, "Well, one thing that's certain is that I'm definitely going to have more than one kid!"
Victor had nearly choked on his beer. Used all his life to American style beer he had allowed the plump barmaid to persuade him into trying a pint of bitter. He hadn't much cared for his first taste, but had persevered and was just beginning to like the alien taste but Jen's unexpected outburst had him gasping and then fighting to recover his breath as his beer went down his windpipe instead of his gullet.
By the time he had cleared his airway, both he and Jen were mopping tears from their faces, Victor because of choking effects of breathing beer, but Jen because of the giggles she had been unable to hold in.
"Well! Thanks for the sympathy!" Victor grouched as he resisted the urge to grin, Jen's laughter he had found was highly infectious.
"Oh, I'm sorry… it was just so funny… But whatever made you choke like that?" Jen said, still smiling.
"It was what you said about wanting a whole squad of kids!" Victor retorted, determined to try to get some degree of payback for his discomfort.
"Oh crap! Did I actually say that out loud?" Jen asked in dismay.
"Yeah, you did. But don't worry, your secret is safe with me!" Victor assured her.
But that had been over an hour ago, and they'd had another drink each after the fiasco and Victor had been as warm and as interesting as he had always been, so his announcement came as something of a surprise to Jen.
"Did I upset you when I laughed at you about choking on your beer? she asked anxiously.
"What.. oh… no… nothing to do with that, I swear!" Victor smiled at her uneasily.
"Well what's wrong?" Jen asked tremulously.
Victor was tempted to fob her off with some story about needing to get an exceptionally early start the next morning, but found that his tongue was paralysed as he stared into Jen's dark brown eyes that were beginning to fill with tears.
"Victor, what's wrong? Why won't you come up for a coffee? Did I say or do something?"
"Oh God, no Jen, you didn't do or say anything wrong. I don't want to come up because… Jen, have you never realised what a beautiful intelligent, warm, compassionate and loving woman you are? Have you ever realised the effect that you have on men? Or the effect you have on me? Especially after a night like tonight? Jen, I daren't come up with you, because I'm afraid if I did I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you, and I don't want to spoil our friendship!"
"What makes you think it would spoil our friendship, Victor?" Jen asked nervously. "And yes, I've had men chase after me, and a couple of women too, since I was fourteen years old. Victor, I'm not a blushing virgin, and you wouldn't be able to take any more liberties than I'd let you! And anyway, what makes you think I wouldn't want you to take those same liberties!?"
"Jen, you're talking crazy! I'm a beat up leatherneck, who's far too old for you! I knew I shouldn't have let myself… No, Jen, it's best, now that I have spoiled our friendship, if I just walk away…"
Jen grabbed the front of his lightweight jacket as it seemed that Victor was about to do just that.
"Oh no, you don't Victor Galindez. You just pin your ears back and listen to me! You are not too old for me. There's only twelve years between us; now, if I was sixteen and you were twenty-eight, then that might mean something. But I'm twice that age, Victor, I'm thirty-two, and now that twelve-year gap don't mean diddly squat! So you just shut up, you damn' Jarhead, and kiss me!"
Victor was about to break Jen's hold on his jacket, gently, and explain again that he was too old for her, but made the mistake of looking down into the deep brown pools that were her eyes, seeing her love there, and with a despairing groan, he crashed his mouth down onto hers, feeling her respond instantaneously to his kiss, and her arms wrap around his neck even as his hands grasped her hips and pulled her to him.