O'Reilly's
Georgetown
1903

"The answer is *so* B, Jack, I would stake my pay on it!" I cry in frustration, my arms crossed, brow furrowed.

"No way, Keely, look at Regis' face. He's like, 'No way, doofus, don't pick B. Don't pick B.'"

I turn my back in disgust. That 'Millionaire' show bugs the hell out of me anyway. Tonight is an unbelievably slow night at the bar. Normally Wednesdays aren't this terrible; must be because all the politicians are out of town at the Convention or something. I can count the number of patrons we've had all day on one hand; that's pretty damn sad.

I pick up the Post again and start rifling through the pages, looking for something, *anything* to amuse me. My attention is thankfully drawn from the slowly blurring letters to the door as our chime announces something to amuse me. I look up with a smile on my face. The man, a tall, good-looking older man, smiles contritely back and takes a seat in a far booth. Of course he has to be a long walk away. Oh, well, I need the exercise anyway.

I pick up a coaster and saunter over to him. "Hi, I'm Keely. What can I get for you?"

"Just a Coors, thanks." He smiles thinly again and I nod, heading back over to the bar.

"Methinks you just got dissed, Special K." Jack comes up behind me, invading my space again. I should really see if one of my Tae Kwon Do moves to his groin would get him to shut up.

"Methinks you're an ass, Jack. At least one of us is right." I finish pouring the drink and take it back over to the man, who is fiddling with his coaster and seems far too interested in the fake burgundy leather of the seat opposite him. "You need anything else?" I ask.

"Nope, just waiting for someone, thanks." He sips his beer and I move away, idly wondering if Uncle Shaun would go for me dating a much older guy.

No more than five minutes later, a shorter, chubbier man, also balding, enters the bar. Unlike the cute one, he doesn't even look in Jack's and my direction. He zeroes in our other patron and immediately sits down, wiping his glasses on his pants. He leans in extraordinarily close to the first gentleman, whom I now realize is wearing a Naval uniform, and begins talking forcefully.

"I don't think you should go over there," Jack says with a singsong 'I told you so' edge to his voice.

I pick up my pad and start to head over to the table, throwing over my shoulder, "If I can handle working with you every day, I can handle some bureaucrat with a pole up his ass."

"Can I get you something to drink, sir?" I ask as I reach the edge of the table. Pudgy looks up at me, annoyance oozing from him. The Navy guy, whose emblems I recognize up close as an Admiral, simply looks at his own drink, as if he's trying to collect his thoughts.

"Just water, please," Pudgy replies, returning his attention to Admiral Cutie.

"Still or sparkling?" I ask. I hate to keep interrupting them (actually, I don't; I'm nosy), but it's part of the job.

"Still."

"Ice?"

"Sure." Pudgy looks up at me, attempting to do so over the rims of his glasses.

"Crushed or cubed?"

"Would you just get the damn water?"

I start a bit at his harsh tone, but shrug and turn on my heel to go get his damn water. I return in a few seconds, wanting desperately to slam the glass on the table and delight in the splash that would result. But I'm nothing if not a lady, so I just sweetly place his water on the table and go back to the Post.

Pudgy and Cutie continue their conversation, but within minutes, it's grown to quite a loud shouting match. Actually, it's only Pudgy who's yelling, but I can tell Cutie's starting to get hot under the collar - literally this time. Finally, Pudgy practically yells, "Damn it, AJ, I said no. If you want to go down the tubes for something this trivial, fine! But don't expect me to go with you!" He throws a one on the table and storms out, the chime clanging loudly in his wake.

I look over at AJ, who is sitting in the same position as he was before Pudgy made his grand entrance, staring blankly into space. Then, in a millisecond, his hand comes up from next to him and does a grand, sweeping gesture across the booth, coming in contact with his glass and shattering it, sending it all over the floor.

I stare dumbfounded for a minute or two, then go over to the booth. "Are - are you all right, sir?" I ask, reaching for a napkin to try and clean up the small cuts on his knuckle.

"I'm fine. I'm terribly sorry about the mess…Keely, was it?"

I nod. "Don't even worry about it. We break more glasses during Happy Hour than I even care to count. Do you want me to get you some ice for your hand?"

He looks at his fist and then shakes his head. "But I will take a Band-Aid or two if you have them."

I work with Jack, so of course I have a First-Aid kit. "Follow me to the bar, and I'll patch you up."

He does, and I set the small blue box on the countertop. I place two Sesame Street bandages over his knuckles and smile after I'm finished. "Good as new."

He chuckles. "Thanks."

"No problem." I start to clean up, and not so casually ask, "So exactly how big was that pole up his ass?"

AJ laughs outright at this and shakes his head. "Bigger than any I've ever seen."

"Me too." I desperately want to know what they were arguing about, but it would just be plain rude to ask straight out.

He's quiet for a few more minutes and I fiddle around behind the bar. I flip aimlessly through the five stations we get - Uncle Shaun really needs to think about a satellite dish - when he speaks again.

"It was a lot more crowded the last time I was in here."

I turn and look at him, confused. "Have you been in here before? I thought I knew all my customers."

He shakes his head a little. "I was in here, oh, about four months ago, picking up a friend of mine. He drunkenly introduced us before I took him home."

I rack my brain and grin when I finally recall whom he was talking about. "The sailor whose partner-slash-girlfriend had been shot, right?"

He gives me a strange look because I remembered, but just smiles a bit wistfully while he nods. "Yeah."

"How's he doing, anyway? Both of them have been in here before, but I haven't seen them around lately."

AJ's mouth contorts in a cross between the same wistfulness in his smile just a moment ago and annoyance. "Well," he begins, then pauses, looking up at the ceiling. "For them, it's great. For me, it's a living hell."

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Why?" Then, hastily, "If you don't mind my asking, of course."

"I'm their superior," he begins. "He's Navy, she's Corps. Because they work in the same office and in the same chain of command - mine - any fraternization is an offense punishable by court-martial. But they're just so *right* for each other, and so I'm trying to work around the rules without having to separate them."

"Wow." I shake my head in partial disbelief. "I wish my boss would do something like that for me. Of course, he probably would, given the fact he's my uncle, but still…" I trail off, watching his expression. "So I'm assuming Pudgy over there doesn't want them together."

AJ shrugs, playing with a nick in the countertop. "He just doesn't want to be bothered with it. Rabb's a bit of a sore spot with the SecNav, so I think he was hoping I'd give in and separate them."

"And you don't want to?"

"Hell no, I don't. Those two are the best damn lawyers I've ever seen, the best team I've ever had, and…" He trails off, and I'm surprised at the fatherly expression that overtakes his eyes. "And they deserve to be together. Everyone has a match in this life, and I don't want to be the reason they miss theirs."

Dude, a cute Admiral who waxes poetic? Sign me up.

I give myself a good mental slap and return to the conversation. "Can't you just keep it a secret?"

He shakes his head. "I've tried. Doesn't work. SecNav only knows on an unofficial basis, so he can't really do anything, but once this gets out…"

"It's all over." I finish the unwitting lie for him and shake my head. "Well, if you lose your job because of this, you could come work here. Jack doesn't need income."

He laughs at this, and nods. "I'll keep that in mind." He looks around the bar and then at his watch. "I should be going…sorry about the glass thing. Can I pay you for it?"

I wave a hand at him. "It's on the house. But I might just have to charge you for the Band-Aids."

He smiles again, rising from the stool. "Thanks, Keely."

I snap off a goofy salute and grin. "Anytime, Admiral. Let me know how things go."

"Will do." He turns briskly on his heel and heads out the door, thankfully much quieter than Pudgy.

I sigh and look around. Boring seems to describe my life these days. I flick off the TV and hunt around for the boom box under the bar. I plug it in and press play on the CD someone left in there, and start putting chairs up on tables.

I realize the CD's mine the minute the raspy alto begins singing and gleefully run over to the bar and select track thirteen. I start singing along - loudly and off-key, of course.

Standing on the edge of time
Playing out a reckless pantomime
And every day's another wrong to rectify
I dream about a stranger's touch
And voices in my head I cannot hush
And every night's a hunger I can't satisfy

It's the secret that I keep
It's the ache that makes me weep
And I know I'm in too deep
I'm gonna drown
It's the emptiness I fear
Baby, please don't leave me here
'Cause I'm lost inside a dream
That's out of bounds

A light chuckle scares the bejeezus out of me, and I whirl around. Instead of finding Jack, I see Admiral Cutie, his blue overcoat thrown over his forearm. Not knowing what to do, I give an impromptu bow and he smiles.

"What song is that?"

"Out of Bounds, by Amanda Marshall. Off of 'Tuesday's Child'. Good stuff."

He nods thoughtfully. "Interesting. I, uh, forgot my coat."

I nod in understanding. "Ah."

"Goodnight, Keely."

"'Night," I call after him and then smack my hand to my forehead. *Way to go, Ace,* I think angrily, finishing the late chores.

I yell into the back room, folding up my paper and putting on my own coat. "Hey, Jack? I'm closing up early. The college interns can go to the other hundred bars tonight."

Jack comes out, already prepared to go home. "Hey, Keel, what'll it take for you to dance for me like that?"

I switch off the lights and lock the door, chuckling. "Um, how 'bout when you look like that guy? That'd be a good place to start."

"Keel! What does that guy have that I don't have?"

"Let it begin, Jack. Let it begin."

End Ch. 5