A/N:

Paraloft: Room in a hanger where all the flight gear and equipment is kept. Usually every pilot/aircrew has a locker with their personal gear. When they leave the Ready Room to go to their aircraft, first they stop in the paraloft and get dressed in their gear.

APT: Aviation Physiology Technician. These are hospital corpsmen (enlisted medical personnel) that have gone on to special training in physiology and assist the physiologist in training aircrew on aspects of survival.

ASTC: Aviation Survival Training Center. This is where Bella and Emmett are doing their training and where Rosalie works. There are a few different ASTC locations throughout the country. I believe the list is Lemoore, CA, Miramar, CA, Pensacola, FL, Oceana, VA, and Pax River, MD. Maybe there's one in Whidbey Island, WA. This means if you are stationed somewhere else when your Water Survival qual expires, then you have to travel to renew.

Helo dunker: Terrifyingly real and exactly how I describe it here.

Hollywood shower: Short showers (less than 30 seconds) are encouraged on board a ship so as not to waste water. Long, indulgent showers are referred to as Hollywood showers because this is what is seen in movies, and is most definitely not the real life for a sailor.

I am not that familiar with the physiology side of aviation, so I may make some mistakes here, but I think I'll be pretty close. I'm going to go ahead and assume there are no aviation physiologists reading, but correct me if I'm wrong!

Chapter 13

I stood in the "paraloft" of the ASTC training pool trying to bite back my frustration. The pool was enormous with multiple sections and housed inside an enormous warehouse like structure. There were no windows, and it was humid and dreary inside. The APT handing out gear had dressed me in a wrinkled flight suit, at least two sizes too big, over my black one piece racer back bathing suit. The boots were three sizes too big. I cringed when I pulled them on. They hadn't fully dried, and the last water class had been a week ago. Do not think about mold and fungus on your toenails, I chanted in my head. My APT friend was currently picking through every last torso harness on the rack trying to find one which would even remotely pass for this exercise.

I mean, I'm a pretty averaged sized woman, maybe a little on the shorter side, but surely they got people on the smaller side of the spectrum through here every now and then. I caught myself briefly wondering what they had done when Alice had taken this course.

Finally, he found one he was happy with and the arduous task of fitting it to my body began. He tugged and pulled and jerked and put his hands in places that hadn't been touched by another human being in many months. That last thought made me think of Edward, which put me in an even worse mood. He capped off the look by handing me a helmet to put on once we entered the water.

I made it over to the bleachers next to the pool where the rest of my classmates were seated waiting for the rest of the group to dress out. I was pretty sure I looked like a little kid playing dress up. I hopped up the metal benches and flopped down next to Emmett. He looked like he had the opposite problem from me. There was about an inch of skin showing between the bottom of his flight suit and the top of his boots. That did make me feel a little better.

"Lookin' good, Doc," he smirked at me, raising his fist for a bump. I gave it to him and smirked right back.

"You look just as good, Emmett," I told him. Suddenly, his attention snapped away from me, and he sat up very straight. I looked to see what had caught his eye and watched as LT Hale entered the pool deck. She was wearing a sleek black shortie wet suit and had a whistle around her neck. Her feet were bare, and I noticed she had painted her toenails a hot pink color. I don't think Emmett noticed that; he was staring at her like she was a goddess descending from heaven. I had to admit she really could rock a wet suit.

She signaled to the APTs scattered around the pool preparing various equipment, and they gathered near her. My buddy from the paraloft stayed with the gear. Two of the APTs were also dressed in wet suits and had scuba equipment and masks. We were told that they would be safety observers underwater at all times. LT Hale placed her hands in a prayer position, folded in front of her, and told us that this would be the distress signal. If we ever felt unsafe or out of control, all we had to do was make this hand signal, and the divers would rescue us. The other two APTs were in red swimming trunks and rash guards and were there to help LT Hale with the equipment and to demonstrate tasks for us if needed.

There were eight people in the class. I heard one of the APTs saying that since the class was so small today that we might get out early. They coaxed us all into the water which was pretty cold. I hated to put on the helmet because I really felt like I couldn't hear with it on my head, but I did it when instructed. We began by swimming the length of the pool demonstrating our mastery of the breast stroke. I was a good a swimmer; I'd grown up on a lake as a kid, so I didn't have any trouble with this stuff, even in the full flight gear. Then we did a few more laps, showing the side stroke and the crawl.

"Doc," Emmett shouted in the vicinity of my ear after we had completed the swim. "You're a pretty good swimmer, better than me." Since Emmett was loud enough to be heard on the other side of the base, hearing him through the helmet was no problem. I saw Rosalie turn toward us with what I thought might have been an amused expression.

Once done with the swim, we had to practice inflating our built-in floatation gear. The horse collar part of the torso harness supposedly had little release mechanisms that responded to sea water. If it came in contact with it, it would automatically release bladders of air that pillowed around the neck and on either side of your face. This was positioned this way so that your head would stay up even if you happened to be unconscious. Of course, they didn't have any actual functioning gear for us to try out in the pool, so we just blew up the air bladders ourselves with the straws hidden on the backside of them.

Next, one of the APTs demonstrated the dead man's float, which consisted of going limp in the water with your head down and arms outstretched. You were supposed to float like this and bring your arms down toward your sides every so often to lift your face out of the water. It helped that the helmet kind of floated. Supposedly, this would be an energy saving method of staying afloat should you be required to survive in the water without a raft for any period of time. We were supposed to tread water in our gear for three minutes, and then demonstrate the dead man's float after that for three more minutes as the next test.

As we started treading, Emmett positioned himself close to the edge of the pool. I had moved out to open water away from everyone else so I wouldn't accidentally crash into someone while "dead." I questioned Emmett's positioning until I noticed he was right next to where LT Hale was standing, monitoring our performances. When the whistle was blown to start treading, he started trying to talk to her. But he was shouting so loud, unable to hear himself inside his helmet, that we could all hear him.

"So, LT Hale, I know you've been here for a couple of months, but where did you transfer from? I used to be at Miramar," he told her. I paddled in a circle. A few of the guys were rolling their eyes and attempting to ignore Emmett, but the others had situated themselves so they had a good show. LT Hale shook her head, letting him know now was not the time to talk. He didn't take the hint.

"I've seen you around a few times and tried to introduce myself. I'm Emmett McCarty. Do you remember me? I'm a Marine with Fat Albert?" Now she gave him tight smile and nodded, admitting that she did remember him but trying to keep from encouraging him. One of the APTs blew the whistle to signal that we should start the dead man's float. I obediently flopped my face into the water and stayed down as long as I could. It was kind of hard with the flotation pillows all around my head. When I lifted my head I heard LT Hale lose her cool.

"Dead man, MAJ McCarty, you are supposed to be a dead man. Shut up, and put your face in the water or you will fail this course," she shouted at him, red-faced. Emmett just gave her a smile and immediately did as she asked. I kept my giggles internal as I put my own face back in the water.

The next two drills went by quickly, probably because I was dreading what would follow them. We all lined up to be hoisted out of the pool by a hook and a crank. This simulated a helicopter rescue without a rescue swimmer. They lowered the hook, we had to perform the maneuver to clear the line of static, and then we attached the hook to the C-clamp on the front of our gear. Then, they hoisted us up 15 feet in the air, while we went limp like rag dolls. For added effect they turned on a fan that blew water down on us the way a rotor blade would do. It felt pretty weird but wasn't hard.

After that, we did the parachute drag, which I thought was fun. We climbed up on a platform and got hooked up to a parachute which was attached to a line that ran the length of the pool. We got the signal to jump off the platform, and the parachute would drag us down the length of the pool. We had until we got to the end to unhook our gear from the parachute and free ourselves without "drowning." We got to do it twice, and I pushed it a little on the second run, staying hooked up a little longer to see how fast I could be.

Finally, it was time for the dreaded helo dunker. This is what had me nervous. I had been terrified the first time I had done it, but going through it hadn't lessened the fear. I actually had nightmares AFTER I'd gone through it during my original training.

The helo dunker was a large plastic re-creation of the inside of a helicopter. It had the two pilot's seats, the two door gunner's seats, and two crew seats in the back. It was outfitted with doors and windows that had similar opening mechanisms to the actual helos in the fleet. Trainees would strap into the seats, and the apparatus would be dropped from about five feet into the pool. It would then proceed to turn upside down, just like a real helicopter does when it hits the water. The hard part is waiting until the dunker is all the way upside down and no longer moving before you try and get out.

I had seen the helicopter mishap tapes during my training. When, a helo goes down, it's…not good. There's very little cushion on land, and even though the water is softer, as the heavy aircraft sinks, all the wires and straps and locks can make it nearly impossible to escape. The Navy had lost too many good aircrew in these type of accidents, so they made some changes to the birds themselves, plus stepped up egress training.

And that is how I found myself staring at the monstrosity positioned over the training pool, waiting my turn to climb in. I listened as the APT explained the drill: First, strap into your seat, using the five point harness. It had a simple dial release mechanism, so all you had to do was twist it, and all the belts would release. Locate a reference point that you can use to orient yourself once the car is upside down, so you won't lose your way in the dark. Learn the fastest escape route and familiarize yourself with any release mechanisms on the window or door. The car will release and drop into the water. Once this happens, it will slowly fill until it capsizes. Second, wait until "all motion stops" simulating that the rotors are still, and it's safe to go outside. Then, use your reference point as a guide to find an exit.

Intellectually, I knew that there were divers in the pool watching me that wouldn't let me drown, but I remembered the panicky feeling of the car overturning and being plunged into the dark water, when you're only thought is how to GET OUT. In fact, after doing the helo dunker once, I had become terrified of driving over bridges, just knowing that my car was somehow going to plunge off into the water. I still wasn't totally over that. When, I first got to my squadron as a flight surgeon in San Diego, working with helos, I had situated myself right next to a door and practically held the handle the entire flight. I'm sure the guys thought I was an idiot. I gradually got more comfortable after dozens of flights, but it was still always in the back of my mind every time we ventured out over the water.

I gave myself an internal pep talk as they divided us into two groups. Since our class was so small, we would only have four on each run. We would do two runs each, one run in one of the pilots' seats and one run in the rear, which was more difficult because you had swim forward past the gunner's seat to the window to get out. I made sure my group went first; I wanted to get this over. I was happy to see that Emmett was in my group.

Now here's the kicker. I knew it was coming, but it still packed a wallop. Just as I climbed into the simulator, the APT handed me a blind fold and instructed me to put it on. Stay calm, I told myself, jumping into one of the pilots' seats. I wanted to go first, but I also wanted to ease into it. Emmett crawled into the other pilot seat and grinned across at me. He seemed utterly unaffected.

I pulled a strap over each shoulder, and one from each side of my lap, and plugged them into the harness. The last one came up between my legs. My escape window was just to my right. It had a simple latch mechanism. All I had to do was reach straight out with my right hand, and it would be there. I pulled the blind fold down in front of my helmet and said a quick prayer. At that point, LT Hale's whistle sounded, and I heard crank mechanism start to turn, felt a jerk, and we were falling.

We smacked the water with a jerk. My hand shot out and found the door latch, and I held on for dear life. I could feel the cold water filling up over my boots and heard a metallic screech as the car began to flip over. I took one last deep breath and found myself underwater. The car continued to shake and jostle for a few seconds, and then it was still. I willed myself to stay calm and brought my left hand to the belt release in my lap. I gave it a quick turn, and it released easily. Then, I used my right hand, still attached to the window, to open the latch and give it a shove. The window popped out easily, and I pushed my feet on the "floor" of the fake helicopter to ease out of my seat. I put my hands on the sides of the window and pulled myself out. I let myself float for a second, so I could figure out which way was up, and then kicked my legs as hard as I could. I felt nothing but relief when I broke the surface and ripped off my blind fold. I took a deep, refreshing breath of air and let out a bit of hysterical giggle. Lord, help me if I was ever in a real crash.

I climbed out of the pool and was greeted by Emmett offering me a palm for a high five. I smacked it, and he swatted my butt.

"Way to go, Doc Swan!" he shouted. "We survived!" I noticed that the four guys who hadn't gone yet were giving him a dirty look as they filed past us to man their positions. The mock-up had already reset itself in its starting position. We settled back on the bleachers next to the pool, wiping our faces with our towels, dripping water everywhere from our flight suits and water-filled boots. I felt eyes on me and saw that LT Hale was watching me appraisingly.

Too soon, it was our turn again. Emmett and I loaded up together again, but this time in the back of the car. We would not be next to a window this time. We would have to swim forward over a mock piece of equipment to the door gunner's seat and open the door next to it in order to egress. The goal was to find a reference point that would allow you to move in the right direction and then feel your way hand over hand until you made it to the door. I felt sick. Once I was strapped in, I kept touching my reference point over and over, until I was told to put on my blind fold. The last thing I saw was Emmett grinning at me from his seat across the car from me. Then, I heard LT Hale's whistle, and we began moving.

I went on instinct once we were in the water. I frantically released my belt and reached for my reference point. I started swimming, hysterically kicking, even though I knew that I was only supposed to use my arms so I wouldn't injure myself in the small space. I felt my foot connect with something hard but it didn't register. All I knew was that I was at the door, opening it, and then through it, swimming toward the surface.

I took that first gulp over air and jerked off the blind fold but something wasn't right. The car was already being lifted out of the water, and one of the APTs was shouting something. I quickly realized that he was saying "Emergency lift!"

I was terrified because I couldn't see Emmett anywhere, and I thrashed around in the water until I could see LT Hale crouched and about ready to jump into the water. The concern in her face quickly morphed into another emotion, and she shifted back onto her behind, dropping her feet over the edge into the pool water. Then she started laughing hysterically. I turned back toward the simulator to see what was happening, and that is when I saw Emmett, hanging upside down, trapped in his harness inside the car. His hands were clasped in the prayer position, our safety signal for the day. And he was shouting at the top of his lungs for someone to get him the hell down.

I climbed out of the pool and collapsed next to LT Hale, also laughing at the spectacle Emmett was making. The APTs turned the mechanism to right the mock-up and released him. He stomped off the car fuming and marched up to me.

"Doc, I don't know why you're laughing when you almost killed me!" He complained indignantly. "You kicked me in the stomach and hit my release mechanism, and it wouldn't unlock. I was stuck down there!" LT Hale tried to control her very unlady-like snorts.

"Well, you did the right thing by invoking the safety signal. Since you paid such close attention to the safety briefing, I won't make you do it again," she teased him. He grumbled in response but quickly turned to me when she had moved past us to get ready for the last group to do their final run. He grasped my hand tightly and looked at me with excitement.

"That was brilliant, Doc," he praised me. I stared at him incredulously. "You put me in danger; made her see how much she would care if something happened to me. That's the first time she's really addressed a sentence to me, much less tried to joke. You're holding up your end of the bargain well, here." I squinted at him, sure he was joking, but he seemed perfectly serious. He whistled as he headed off to wipe off a little with his towel, and I shook my head in disbelief.

Finally, it was time for the last pool exercise. The APTs had thrown various life-saving rafts into the pool. We had to each demonstrate that we could inflate and board the single man raft. That went by quickly and painlessly. We paddled around in groups with the two-man rafts for a bit, and then they called us together for the final team-building exercise. There was an 8-man raft, and they wanted us all to climb in and begin a survival scenario. This would include assigning duties and establishing a chain of command. It was supposed to be a serious review of how to act in a survival situation, but it turned into a review of how stupid seven guys can act in a raft when they are supposed to be serious.

Once we were all in, we had to establish who was the most senior officer. It turned out to be Emmett, and when he realized it, he stood up and hung off one side of the raft proclaiming, "I'm the king of the world." I was, of course, assigned the task of taking care of injuries, and the first-aid kit was shoved my way. Then, one of the other guys I didn't know (I think he was a flight instructor from Whiting Field) began making suggestive comments about his injuries, and how I could "treat" them. Things degenerated from there, when two of the other guys started scuffling in the floor of the raft. The others were giggling hysterically. I've never known why they call it giggling like a little girl. Naval aviators can giggle like champs.

I glanced over my shoulder to see why our instructors hadn't broken this train wreck up already, and I met the eyes of LT Hale. She wore the same tolerant smile and slightly shaking head that I imagined graced my face right now. It was the same look that I imagined mothers wore when their little boys were being harmlessly mischievous. She smiled wider when she realized we were sharing expressions, and I smiled back at her. We were united in our amusement with these silly boys. But, I did want this to be over, so I could get out of this wet, smelly pool gear. She took mercy on me and blew her whistle. I was out of the raft and swimming before any of the guys realized I was gone.

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Most of the time, I loved being "one of the guys." The truth was that I had never felt as accepted as I did when I was among my aviation brethren. But every now and then, the differences between us became glaring. This was one of those times.

I was completely annoyed with the rest of my class's juvenile behavior. After our bonding experience in the raft, they decided we were all lifelong friends who should have lunch together. We only had an hour for this, so I passed. I didn't really feel like yucking it up with them, plus I couldn't shower and change in five minutes. I decided to stay behind and actually blow-dry my hair before the afternoon classroom session. I had a Clif Bar in my bag; I would be fine.

After turning in my lovely pool gear, I headed to the women's locker room and started my shower routine. I had the place to myself so I took a Hollywood shower, taking my time to painstakingly comb out my hair afterwards. I got dressed again in my flight suit and started in on a blow out. I had just finished the drying and had started working on my bun, when the door to the locker room opened, and LT Hale entered.

She had changed back into her flight suit, but since she had never gotten wet, she probably just changed in her office. She came in and stood uncertainly behind me, our eyes meeting in the mirror.

"Skipping out on the meal time male bonding, I see," she finally joked. I smiled at her in the mirror and nodded.

"Sometimes, I can only take so much," I acknowledged. She nodded tentatively, and I could see that her ice queen persona was an act. I thought she was probably shy.

"I have to put up with this sort of thing every week, you know," her smile was growing. "Although some of the talent this week was actually showier than usual," she amended wryly. I turned away from the mirror to actually look her in the face now that I was done with my bun.

"You mean, Emmett, I guess," I said. "I've only known him for a week, but he seems like a pretty good guy, actually." She rolled her eyes, but I thought I saw the tiniest bit of a satisfied smile.

"That guy is a clown," she dismissed, waving her hand breezily. I smiled back not agreeing or disagreeing.

"So," she said drawing out the word, "you're Bella, right? Alice's friend? I'm Rosalie." I cringed a little thinking of myself as Alice's friend right now but I shrugged and nodded in agreement.

"Well, I only met Alice last week, too, but I guess I'd classify us as friends," I admitted. "Nice to meet you, Rosalie," I told her, and I meant it. She smiled at me again shyly.

"So, I was watching you with the guys, and I realized that we might have a lot in common," she began nervously. "We're going to get done pretty early today. With only eight people the parachute landing practice and the hypoxia simulator will only take an hour or so, and my lecture is only about half an hour. We'll probably be out by 14:00 at the latest. There's a really great Mexican place just outside the back gate in Perdido. Would you want to get a margarita or two and hang out?" She asked this last question hopefully, and I got the impression that she might be a little lonely. Ice queens usually were.

"I'd love to Rosalie; that sounds great!" I admitted enthusiastically. I could see how we would have a lot in common. She seemed down on the guys, and so was I right now. "I actually have a situation that I would love to bounce off of an impartial outsider." She seemed glad I had agreed, and we chatted about nothing while I finished up my bathroom routine. We headed together back to the classroom.

Just before we entered, she leaned close and whispered to me. "I'd actually like to pick your brain about Emmett McCarty. But, I don't want him to know I asked. Is that okay?" she looked nervous again.

Well, damn. I had been hoping for a partner in male bashing crime, but Rosalie and Emmett both seemed really nice, and if I could help them get together, then maybe it would make me feel better. Whatever. I wouldn't think past the part where I was having margaritas in the middle of the afternoon.

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