There was no qualifying.

Instead we got sent home, all of us. All because of a small locker room misunderstanding. The old head of the base would have never sent us all home after a small fight.

Three hours early I walked into the kitchen from the garage, where Diana was seated on the kitchen counter waxing her legs.

She looked up, surprised, "What are you doing back so early?"

I dropped my duffel bag on the floor.

Closed the garage door, and walked over to her, I gave her a kiss and stared at her paper covered legs. "There was a small fight."

Diana narrowed her eyes, so I kissed her again, she broke the kiss and asked, "Were you and Fowler going at it again?"

Damn. She knew me too well.

She narrowed her green eyes, "Hoot."

"It was a lil fight," I assured her, I tried to kiss her but she put her hand on my chest and pushed me back. "So you and Fowler got thrown out of qualifying?"

I shook my head.

Diana patted her paper covered legs with one of her hands, those eyes held mine as she asked, "So why are you home so early?" As much as I wanted to I could not lie to her at that moment, so I told her, "We got everyone thrown out of the qualyfing."

She narrowed her eyes even further, then grabbed the top of one of the papers, I winced as she proceeded to rip it off. Ripping the hair out of her leg! It sounded like Velcro, it sounded painful. It scared me.

"And for what purpose? Or do I even want to know?" She threw the waxy paper strip in the trash, where a pink foil paper was, inwardly fear seized me. I knew exactly what had been wrapped up in that pink paper.

It had wings and it wasn't an angel.

Which made her sudden mood so clear to me.

"No," I told her.

"So it was just man bullshit then?" she demanded, as she ripped another strip off.

Again I winced.

Why the hell women insisted upon ripping their hair out was beyond me. What was wrong with razors?

She threw that strip of wax away and asked, "Did you get in trouble?"

"A lil." That wasn't a lie. So Sanderson, Lambross and I along with Fowler had to see the base shrink before we could qualify. That wasn't such a big deal.

She looked up at me, "Define a little."

I winced as she ripped another piece of that wax off, "Darlin, could you stop doin that? You know it freaks me out." As soon as the words were out of my mouth I knew I made a mistake. Her eyes were no longer narrowed. Instead they grew round. Every now and then she'd loose her mind. Like now.

She dropped down off the counter, with that wax and paper on her leg, she jabbed her finger in my chest. "Since I freak you out so much I'll be upstairs. Enjoy the couch, darlin!"

Damn.

I watched her storm from the kitchen in a t-shirt and shorts. Even when she lost her damn mind she was sexy. I looked towards the heavens as she stomped up the steps and across the floor.

For a moment I swore I heard McKnight giggling from the living room. Since the TV wasn't on I was probably just imagining the man. I looked to the fridge and pondered whether I wanted a beer or two.

I knew better then to follow her ass upstairs and continue the argument, maybe if she weren't P.M.S.ing. But I had learned not to anger her at that time of the month. So I opened the fridge and saw no beer, McKnight drank all my beer. Perfect.

I closed the fridge and wondered if I wanted to walk down the street to Sanderson's for beer.

Yes I did, I turned and headed for the garage door, just as someone knocked on my front door.

There was only one man it could be. And I doubted he brought beer.

With a groan I walked outta the kitchen and saw McKnight was in the damn living room, I thought about smacking him upside the head. But starting two fights in one night was not a good idea. Especially with Diana in such a fowl mood.

Instead I flipped him off.

I made it to the front room and still heard the snickering bastard.

The thought of shooting him with the shotgun in the closet crossed my mind. Instead I opened the door to see Sanderson with his pillow. He looked at me, "My crazy pregnant wife called me childish and told me to sleep on the lawn."

I let him in the house, "You better have beer."

He shook his head, "We don't have beer at my house, it's evil or something. Pork too."

I had forgotten Humera was Muslim. Oh well. I closed the door and told him, "I call dibs on the couch."

Sanderson turned and looked at me, "Trouble in paradise?"

I told him three letters. Three letters that explained everything, they would explain absolutely any behavior in women, "P.M.S."

He winced, then glanced over his shoulder towards the living room, "Is someone laughing?"