By the time the bath water had begun to cool, Lady Jaye was feeling better, even if that still meant she ached with every movement. The heat had helped, and she seriously considered running another bath, but decided lunch was more important. As she walked into the mess hall, though, she realized it was a bad idea for several reasons.

Shipwreck burst into laughter the moment she walked near his table, commenting, "How did you make out on the obstacle course?" She flipped him the finger and continued to the counter. Grabbing a sizeable portion of chili, she headed to the table where she could see Flint, Duke, and Scarlett sitting. She fell into a chair and started to eat, not wanting to interrupt what was obviously a business related discussion.

Duke finally looked over at her and said, "I'm sure you know that Beach Head asked for you to stay in PT…"

Lady Jaye nodded with a glower.

"I hate to say it, but Beach pretty much has free reign over assigning training in this case. Unless it's grossly unfair or he makes you work more than a couple of hours a day, I can't tell him not to keep you."

She sighed. "I'd argue with the 'grossly unfair' bit," she replied.

Her CO shrugged. "His assessment of training progress is what goes in the books, not mine."

Flint looked over at her. "Duke, you know her scores are as high as anyone else's. Beach Head is likely to keep her in PT for years… which you obviously wouldn't allow, so why not just nip it in the bud?"

"What do you have to do to get him to let you out?" Scarlett inquired.

Lady Jaye looked up with a scowl. "Beat him in hand-to-hand combat."

The redhead's mouth fell open in an 'O.' "Seriously? I think I could count on one hand the Joes who could do that." She turned to Duke. "That is unfair."

"Beach Head only said she had to fight well enough to satisfy him, not that she had to beat him."

Flint commented, "That's kind of subjective, isn't it?"

"Nope," Duke replied. "Because he asked me to observe and be a second judge."

"What's the timeline, then?" Lady Jaye asked him.

"A match every week until we decide you're done."

"Starting?"

"One week after your first extra session, meaning one week after you're done with your punishment PT."

Scarlett smiled at her friend. "Hey, what did you do to get that sentence, anyway? You never said."

Lady Jaye stole a glance at Duke. "I got caught trying to set up a prank."

Duke's eyes gleamed in amusement. "You know, you never did explain to me how you expected to booby trap everyone's chairs without any supplies. You didn't even have a screwdriver to loosen the bolts."

Flint remained utterly silent through the exchange. He thought she'd done remarkably well coming up with a reason to be in the conference room in the middle of the night. It may have guaranteed a punishment, but it was believable.

"I was just checking it out, looking for inspiration."

"Sure. Okay." Duke chuckled.

Scarlett nudged Lady Jaye. "I get it. You were meeting someone, weren't you?"

Flint laughed. "She pegged you, Jaye. Who was it?"

She wished she was close enough to kick him without being obvious about it. "Very funny. There's absolutely no one on base I'd consider sleeping with right now." She shot Flint a glare.

"I heard something about you and Beach Head today that says otherwise," he replied with a wink.

Scarlett choked on her coffee. "Beach Head?" she gasped.

Duke frowned at them. "That's a very, very disturbing image," he said. "And based on the language he used while talking about you, very hard to believe."

Lady Jaye smiled. "What? He's a good-looking guy."

Flint's smile was starting to slip. "Maybe we could change the subject," he said.

"Oh, no," Scarlett said. "This is juicy. Spill it, Jaye. Is there something going on?"

"I'm right here!" Duke said loudly. "I can hear you, you know. CO, and all that."

Scarlett laughed. "Would you really care if they were getting down and dirty in the mud pit?" she asked him.

He wrinkled his nose. "Professionally… well, not really. I mean, it's not like we're as uptight as other units as far as regs go. I've always taken the stance that if it doesn't affect your performance, I don't need to worry about it. Personally, though… I find the whole idea very disconcerting."

Flint gave Lady Jaye a wry smile. Maybe he had hid under the table for no good reason. Which meant that this whole issue with Beach Head didn't have to happen.

Lady Jaye rolled her eyes in response and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. She finished her chili and refilled her coffee cup from the carafe on the table. She saw the drill sergeant himself enter the room, and he squinted at her from the doorway.

Beach Head made his way to her chair and looked her over. He bent down and put his nose in her hair.

"You smell good," he growled.

Scarlett bit her lips and let out a snort. Duke's eyes flew open, and his jaw dropped. Even Flint looked taken aback.

"You should have waited like I told you to before taking a shower," Beach Head continued. "Now I'm just going to have to get you all nice and muddy again. Meet me in an hour in my office," he told her, walking away.

"Oh…my…God…" Scarlett whispered. "It's true!"

"No!" Lady Jaye waved her hands frantically. "That wasn't what it sounded like!"

Duke stood, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "Just don't tell me any details," he said, walking away. Scarlett stood, too, grabbing the empty cups and coffee carafe. "I've gotta go… do… something," she stammered as an excuse to leave. She only made it as far as the table where Cover Girl sat, though. Oh, boy. If there weren't rumors before, there sure will be now, she thought.

Lady Jaye put her head down on the table. "Unbelievable," she muttered.

"Yeah. Unbelievable," Flint said. "What was that about?" There was a hard edge to his voice.

She looked up, incredulous. "Don't tell me you would actually think--?"

He scowled. "He said you smelled nice."

She sighed. "Shipwreck, Alpine, and I lost the sparring matches today—we weren't supposed to shower until after dinner."

Flint considered her for a moment. "That's it? He was checking to see if you washed your hair?" She nodded. "Hunh. He sounded pretty eager to get you into his office." He looked down at his cup. "And you said he was good-looking…" he mumbled.

"Flint, he always sounds eager when he's got someone to torture. I'm sure I get to run the obstacle course. For the seventh time today." She leaned in and whispered, "He's not nearly as handsome as a certain Warrant Officer I might name…"

He looked up with a smile. "Who? Torpedo?"

"Mmmmm… I do like them dark-haired. You're off by thirty pounds and a beret, though."

"If you didn't have to be in PT again in 45 minutes…" he said, looking her over with a grin. "Oh, well. You'll need to shower later, then, won't you?"

She felt her heart flutter. "Yep. And after that I was thinking of a visit to the hot tub to soothe my aching muscles…which will be aching even more by then if the look in your eye is anything to go by…"

He stood and helped her up. "Well at least my idea of a work-out is pleasant."

She laughed. "Just don't expect me to be able to stand without support." She felt his hand tighten on hers, felt the pulse racing in his wrist.

He leaned close and murmured in her ear, voice husky, "I think I can handle that."

Lady Jaye returned to her room and changed back into her dirty BDUs. They were still cold and clammy, but there was no point in wearing fresh ones. She tried a few stretches, trying to loosen the kinks that were forming in her arms and legs.

She made it to Beach Head's office early enough not to give him something else to complain about, and he simply gestured at her to follow him outside. She was surprised when he didn't head to the beginning of the obstacle course, but instead to the middle. He walked right into the mud pit at the center of the course and stood there looking at her. "Well?" He finally growled. "Get in."

She stared at him a moment longer, then with a sigh, jumped off the bank and immediately sank to her knees in mud. The simple act of walking to the middle of the pit made her thighs scream in protest. "So you don't want me to run the course? I'll happily roll around in the mud for a few minutes if all you want is for me to get filthy again."

Beach Head answered by throwing a punch at her head. She ducked and tripped, landing on her knees, splattering mud everywhere. The drill sergeant didn't let up, though. He hauled her to her feet and turned the movement into a throw. Lady Jaye landed in a roll—or at least tried to. She mostly just ended up diving face first into the muck. She rose, sputtering, as Beach Head kicked her in the back, sending her right back under.

She stood, wiped the mud from her eyes, and turned around. So, this was going to be a little extra "sparring practice," was it? She fell into a defensive crouch and waited for the next attack. He lifted a foot toward her face, and she moved in close enough so that the blow lost its power, aiming a fist at his chest. Beach Head simply continued his original movement, which took him out of the way and landed him behind her. She instinctively ducked again and heard his arm whistle over her head.

Lady Jaye kicked straight back and up and managed to land a blow on her instructor's ribs. He didn't falter, merely backed out of her foot's main force, grabbed her leg at the knee, and heaved upwards. She toppled completely over and struggled upright again, spitting mud out of her mouth this time. She was getting really pissed.

Beach Head blocked her first two punches, but she refused to let him get back on the offensive. Her aches forgotten, she attempted to pummel, kick, and throw him for several minutes. Although a few punches and two good kicks landed, the drill instructor barely even grunted at the impacts. Lady Jaye's muscles finally started shaking, and she had to stand back to give them a moment to recover.

He wasn't about to give her the opportunity, though. He started a barrage of his own that had her abused muscles straining to keep up. Her blocks missed the mark about half the time, but she thought that considering what she had been through that day, he could hardly complain. Then again, this was Beach Head. "What was that weak attempt at a block? That block wouldn't have stopped a punch thrown by Duke's granny. Was that a kick or a muscle spasm? Oh, I'm sorry, did you duck or did your knees buckle?"

It infuriated her that he had enough breath to spare to keep up the banter through the entire round of blows. Her own breath was coming ragged, and she couldn't manage the return insults she normally prided herself for. It made her even angrier that other than his legs, Beach Head's uniform showed only a few spatters of mud, while her own wasn't even recognizable any more.

How long it lasted, she didn't know. An hour? More? Finally she gave a last punch and ended up falling forward after it, as her legs finally gave in. Surprised, Beach Head caught her as she stumbled against his chest. He pulled her face up so that their eyes met. "If a day of training wears you out this much, you have to admit I was right," he glowered. She stared back up at him defiantly, although the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that she needed his support simply to remain standing.

Of course it was at that moment that Cover Girl and Scarlett drew near the obstacle course on their afternoon run around the track. Their heads swiveled around to watch as they jogged by. Scarlett let out a hoot of laughter and Cover Girl gave one of her ear-splitting whistles.

Beach Head let go of Lady Jaye so fast that she fell right into the mud again. She didn't feel like getting back up. Just let me drown in the mud, she prayed. Beach Head grabbed the back of her shirt and hauled her to her feet, then over to the lip of the mud pit. He shoved her up over the edge and climbed out. When she made no move to get up, he squatted by her head and rolled her over. He wasn't smiling. "Admit I'm right," he demanded.

Lady Jaye cracked open an eye and regarded him warily. She opened her mouth to reply, and the mud on her lips slid right in. She sat up to spit and cough, and when she looked up again, Beach Head was walking back to the buildings. She stood as the two other women came around the track again. It took her a moment to realize that they were not singing a regulation cadence as they ran.

"Beach has a girl and her name is Jaye," Cover Girl sang, Scarlett replying with the echo, "Gets her real dirty every single day." They were too far away to see her scowl, not that they could under the mud, anyway. "Starts her at seven and ends at six…"

"DON'T YOU DARE FINISH THAT RHYME!" Lady Jaye hollered. Her two friends giggled in response as they rounded the track.

She trudged wearily back to her room. It was still several hours until dinner, but she just couldn't care. She would have to give Flint a raincheck on the shower. For the second time that day, she stripped and washed the slippery mud from herself. She would simply stay in her room until after dinner. She was fairly certain Beach Head wouldn't bother her there. Just in case, though, she locked the door and turned on the T.V.

Her isolation lasted about an hour. She tried to ignore the knocks, but as soon as Beach Head's extremely loud voice replaced the rapping, she knew she was in trouble. "Open this door right now, Corporal! If you're mad about the fight, I'm not going to apologize! You deserved it, and you know it!"

She sighed and opened the door. He stood there glowering in his muddy BDUs, arms crossed, looking very angry. Lady Jaye saw movement out of the corner of her eye and noticed Shipwreck peeking around the corner. Wonderful, she fumed. Now everyone is going to think we had a lover's spat.

Imitating his pose, she simply waited for the rest of the outburst. Instead he eyed her up and down, eyes narrowing as he saw her groomed appearance. "Damn. Do you want me to roll you around in the mud again?"

She sighed. "Did it ever occur to you that some of us have other work to do today? I can't exactly manage my paperwork coated in three inches of mud."

He harrumphed. "I'd buy that if I knew you had paperwork to do today. I'm not going to be nice to you in PT just because you're a girl. Get over it."

"Look, Beach Head. You made your point. I'm tired and extremely sore. Will you just let it go?"

He stood silent a moment. She knew he was posturing, being the alpha male; maybe if she showed enough throat he would leave her alone. For today, anyway. She looked down at the ground and sighed, letting her shoulders slump.

Beach Head actually gave in. She managed not to smile when he simply told her to be sure to show up at PT the next morning. So you don't fall for my tricks, huh? She asked him silently. Yeah, right. She watched him walk away and started to shut the door again.

Shipwreck threw his arms through her door before she managed to close it. He was still filthy, of course. "So, your boyfriend let you take a shower, huh?" he asked her with a wink.

She rolled her eyes. "Why don't you ask him out and maybe he'll let you off easy," she growled. "For the last time, Shipwreck, we are not dating." She grabbed the front of his muddy shirt. "Can you really see me kissing Beach Head? Really?"

He looked down at her with a glint in his eye. "Not when you've got me right in front of you, babe," he drawled, leaning closer.

She pushed him back into the hall and slammed her door.