A/N This takes place roughly 4 years later. Michelle is a freshman at the University of California and has returned to visit her grandmother in Illinois for New Year's Eve. The town of Grendale does not exist outside this story.
Michelle slid reluctantly from the driver's seat and sank into knee deep snow. 'It's going to be cold,' she hissed to herself for the third time, the chill sending a shock through her entire body that no amount of pep talk could counter. 'It's going to be….It IS cold.' She reached inside the vehicle to seize her jacket which she lost no time pulling on, zipping it up to her chin in a vain attempt to block out the icy wind. Relax, this isn't as bad as it looks! Just walk round the car and find out exactly which wheel is stuck and dig it out. How complicated can it be?
She let out a huge sigh as she set off, each footstep leading her deeper into the snow by the ditch. Ten footsteps from the door led to the scene of her predicament. The back wheel was lodged deep into what appeared to be a jutting out embankment, the entire wheel so buried in the snow that had she not been aware she possessed it, she would have sworn the car contained only three. Dispirited, she leaned against the icy car. 'Oh no!' Eyes momentarily shut she recalled her grandmother's admonition before the start of the journey. "Drive slowly, sweetie. There's a road weather alert. I heard there was ice."
She had smiled gently at the phone. "There's always ice in the winter, Grandma. I've been driving for three months now. I'll be fine!"
Yeah right, Michelle. You've been driving in California for three months, all of them without ice. It's a little different out here on the highway in the middle of absolutely nowhere! 'You're right as usual, Grandma! Road conditions are bad.' She shook her head slowly, eyes straying to the empty highway which was bare of any other living creature bar herself. It appeared some mysterious ailment had swept through the woods and taken every bird, mammal and insect within miles to some concealed point leaving her within a silent bubble.
Michelle let out a long hiss of frustration, her breath floating away in a straight cloudlike line. Slightly chilly despite the jacket, she resolved to return for her gloves which, if she had remembered to pack them, were to be found in the glove box. Let them be there, please let them be there. She pulled the glove box open and stared inside in dismay. The compartment was empty of everything save her license, some car registry documents and a handful of quarters left there due to her habit of dumping loose change after each shopping trip.
Could anything else go wrong today? she wondered as she retraced her steps to the trunk of the car, unlocking it.
Considering such a question appeared to invite further problems. The trunk was bare. Too late, she remembered her father borrowing the shovel to tidy the garden path, replacing his dented one with it and more likely than not returning it to the shed. She allowed herself a full minute to rail against her ill luck before straightening and eyeing the snow covered ditch. The back wheel needed to be dislodged if she had a hope of continuing her journey and to do so required the use of a tool bearing a certain resemblance to a shovel. She clambered through the ditch and into the woods searching for a branch or large stick to aid her digging, her fingers buried inside her jacket pockets. Thick snowfall rendered her search fruitless. Worn out within minutes of struggling she returned to the car, chewing her lip. Looks like you'll have to do this the hard way. Now snow is not really cold, it's just a bit cold…She set to work scraping it off the top of the embedded wheel, pausing regularly to blow warm air onto her frozen fingers. Ten minutes into the task throbbing pain in both hands forced her to pause. She rubbed her palms together and slapped them against each other in an attempt to restore her blood circulation. Her fingers remained as painful as before. Michelle allowed a groan to escape as she trudged back to the car and slid inside, pulling the door shut. The howl of the wind diminished slightly as she laid her head against the seat and shut her eyes. The possibility of spending the entire night in the car occurred to her and she straightened abruptly, pulling a flask towards her. Filled with scalding tea she had made for her drive it appeared invaluable. She took a sip before replacing the lid and held it in her fingers warming them against its hot surface.
A distant hum attracted her attention, a car whizzing past before she was able to scramble out. Michelle chewed her lip in annoyance.
After resting another few minutes she returned to the stranded wheel, attacking the snow with both hands simultaneously. It appeared her frantic efforts were met with limited success. Whilst she succeeded in scraping the surface snow from the wheel the majority of it remained stubbornly embedded in the embankment impervious to her struggle. A second car raced past as she straightened and cast a desperate glance at the driver.
Yet again the cold drove her into the vehicle where she seized the flask, tears of pain from her throbbing hands flooding her eyes. Outside the final rays of a winter sun dipped beyond the trees casting the world in shadow, the twilight hastened along by a renewed flurry of snowflakes. Michelle stared at it in silence, her heart numbed by the cold. She failed to turn her head at the hum of a third car in the distance, convinced that by the time she was able to scramble outside it would be long gone. The wind's howl dimmed the sound and the road lit up with its powerful headlights sooner than she expected. She watched the snowflakes it caught in its beam, noting their beauty. It's ironic, really, requiring an accident to make you see just how gorgeous they are.
To her amazement the headlights failed to dim and race past. Instead of the expected red tail lights her car was lit from behind, the new vehicle's engine drowning out the wind. Unmistakable footsteps approached her causing her heart to beat faster. Whoever it was had her at their mercy, and she could only pray the hand opening her door belonged to a kind-hearted individual rather than the serial killer the radio repeatedly informed her was missing after massacring his entire family.
'Hey, are you okay?' a gentle voice inquired. Something about the tone caused her heart to beat wildly as she glanced up; telling herself the cold was causing her to hallucinate. There was absolutely no way the voice could belong to the handsome Marine she remembered clearly, whose face filled her dreams, who was the major reason she never failed to miss the news. Illogical as it was, she desperately longed to see him again, peeling her eyes on the groups of Marines shown night after night after fierce engagements longing and dreading to see 'her' Marine among them.
'Are you okay?' he repeated, taking her wrist without waiting for an answer. Eyes narrowed in concentration he felt her pulse before releasing her hand. 'Do you feel any dizziness or nausea?'
Michelle stirred, shaking her head. Dizziness and nausea? No. Yes, yes you do, both of it. It's HIM! 'I'm fine,' she managed to stammer.
'You skidded,' he stated, taking in the vehicle's tilt. 'Road conditions are real bad tonight. It's not safe for you to be out here.'
'I was invited to my grandmother's house,' she said softly, wondering whether he would disappear into the snowstorm that had brought him as he had done in so many of her dreams. 'She's old now and not too well, and I'm not home that often. I owe her this visit.'
Lips pressed together, he nodded. 'Yeah.'
"Yeah." Emboldened, she climbed from the car. 'I thought…'
He paused, glancing at her questioningly.
'I thought you were somewhere in the Middle East,' she said hesitantly.
His eyes flickered before a brief grin tugged the corner of his lips. 'I have met you before,' he stated, apparently relieved. 'For a moment…' he shook his head, leaving his sentence unfinished.
'You wouldn't remember,' Michelle forced herself to reply, her heart wrenching in pain. 'It was a long time ago.'
'We met during an exercise in basic training,' he recalled, the smile slightly broader. 'You had a day off school.'
Michelle's smile lit up her entire face. He remembers you! He's been through hell and he still remembers you. She nodded shyly.
They reached the stranded wheel, the Marine drawing in his breath in a slight hiss.
'I was trying to dig it out,' she explained, slipping her hands into her pockets. 'I just haven't got a shovel…'
'And you hoped to dislodge it bare handed?' He cast her an incredulous look. 'Wait here. I got one.'
Warmed by some inner fire she leaned against her car and watched him tramp through the snow to his own car, his feet moving effortlessly. He's so tough! He's not wearing a jacket and he never shivered once! To her surprise she found herself hoping it would take a considerable length of time to free the car. Luck or blind chance had brought her together with the man of her dreams and she resolved to make the time last, doubting she would be blessed with such a coincidence a third time.
'I got this shovel,' he began, pausing to stare at her. 'Where are your gloves?' he inquired, nodding his head at her hands.
Michelle chewed her lip, aware from the sudden heat in her face that she was blushing furiously. 'They're home,' she admitted reluctantly. Damn. He must have considered you an idiot the last time, but you were just a kid then. Now you're an adult and you convinced him of it!
'They're not much use to you there,' he observed, handing her the shovel. Wordless, he turned back to his car, emerging moments later with a pair of black leather gloves which he held out to her. 'Put them on.'
'What about you?' she inquired, pulling them over her icy fingers.
'I'll be digging,' he replied, taking the shovel. She followed him along the well trodden path to the stranded wheel, her eyes glued to him as he bent to shovel the first of the snow. To her surprise his effort yielded but a handful of surface snow. She gazed at it puzzled.
'You know, I gotta hand it to you. You don't do things by half,' he muttered, raising the shovel. 'Snow's packed solid. It'll take a while.'
'You don't have to stay,' she said unhappily, hating the thought of keeping him from whatever pressing business had driven him to use the narrow lane.
'Hah,' he snorted, refusing to acknowledge her statement. 'I almost forgot how different snow is to sand.' Lips pressed together he raised the shovel, slamming it repeatedly against the embankment. 'I'm trying to loosen it,' he explained when he paused to regain his breath. 'It feels like it's compacted. I'm guessing we got a coupla roots holding this together.'
Michelle chewed her lip guiltily as she observed the first bead of sweat make its way down his forehead. She watched him lay the shovel down and wipe it absentmindedly, his warm breath casting a cloud about his face. Unconsciously she moved towards him, taking the shovel. 'Let me dig now.'
'You won't get anywhere,' he assured her, standing back while she attacked the embankment with her entire strength, dislodging nothing. 'It's frozen. Let me dig some more and then we'll try pulling your car.'
'Thanks,' she said, twisting a strand of hair about her gloved fingers. Mortified by her poor effort she tugged at a second strand of hair, stopping the moment she noticed 'her' Marine had failed to resume digging. He's looking at your hair again! She pulled the hood from her hair and ran her fingers through it, slipping the band on. 'The wind's real strong,' she yelled above it. My hair's not always this messy!
The Marine nodded, turning back to his task. She watched breathless as he recommenced digging, pausing every few minutes to shake his head and wipe his face. Fifteen minutes into the thankless task he straightened and blew warm air onto his frozen fingers. 'Would you like a coffee?' he inquired, glancing at her.
Michelle nodded, following him over to his car. 'I'd love one.'
'Then you're in luck.' He climbed in, indicating she should sit beside him which she did after a second's hesitation. 'It's too cold to enjoy this outside. I just returned from Iraq – it was a little warmer there.'
'How long were you over there?' she questioned, accepting a scalding plastic cup.
'Almost two years.' He fell silent, his lips tightening.
'Was it real bad?' she asked gently.
'Sometimes, yeah.' Silence stretched between them while she racked her brains on what to say. The Marine appeared comfortable, eyes half shut as he swallowed the liquid.
'So where are you stationed now?' she asked, longing to see his lighter side reemerge.
He shook his head, pouring himself a second cup and glancing at her. She shook her head hurriedly. 'I got a month's leave. We're heading back after that.'
'I'm sorry,' she ventured, wondering how he would take it. 'So are you staying with family?'
Again he shook his head. 'I will spend two days over here, my grandmother lives in Chicago. It's her car, by the way. I fly home to L.A. on Friday.' Relief filled his voice which her sharp ears picked up.
'You must miss her,' Michelle said gently, a stab of pain slicing through her at the thought of her own grandmother left alone during the majority of the academic year.
A strange expression crossed his face. 'Yeah,' he said wryly, swallowing the last of the coffee in a gulp. 'I'll get back to it.'
Michelle finished her coffee and replaced the cup on the thermos, joining him outside in the heavily falling snow. 'Her' Marine dug furiously, nodding his head at the hole. 'It's about ready to come. I'll attach a rope and we'll see what happens.'
She thanked him, a pang of regret rushing through her at the thought of their imminent parting. Wordless, she watched him attach a tow rope to her car, moving aside only when the Marine paused, staring at her puzzled. 'I'm sorry.'
He shook his head, blowing on his fingers to warm them enough to secure the rope. 'Don't be. My mother's got a similar talent for getting stuck in the worst spots.' Without further comment he returned to his car, leaving her free to conjure an image of a middle aged woman in a similar predicament to herself.
Slowly and surely her car freed itself from the embankment. She watched it dragged onto the road, her heart sinking. The moment of farewell was upon her!
'You want to try starting it?' the Marine inquired, appearing beside her.
She nodded, climbing into the vehicle. Not really. Another coffee would've been great. She turned the key, greeted by silence. Once again she turned the key with no more success than before.
'Her' Marine failed to look surprised at the latest development. Wordless, he moved around the dented front of the car, opening the bonnet. She joined him, peering into the unfamiliar engine. 'Looks fine,' he muttered, moving round her to climb into the driver's seat. He glared at the controls giving his customary slight shake of the head. 'You got a problem with the ignition!'
'Doesn't sound good,' she sighed. Looks like you might be spending the night out here alone after all…
'It's easily fixable in a garage.' His eyes narrowed as he stared at the snow swirling around them.
He's gonna leave you out here…
'I'm just thinkin' what would be easier. They got better garages in Chicago, but…The thing is, I got to get to Grendale real soon. It's closer, they could fix it there also, and it's on your way. That okay with you?'
'Sure,' she agreed, relieved. 'Thanks so much. I'm really slowing you down.'
'I got time,' he replied, annoyingly obtuse about his necessity of visiting the town. 'We should get started. Your tail lights aren't working, so it's kinda illegal to tow you - let's hope we make it without getting stopped.'
His tongue-in-cheek look caused her heart to skip a beat. 'If we do get stopped, I'll pay any fine…'
'No,' he insisted. 'It's the responsibility of the driver.'
She gave him a shy smile as she climbed into her own car. The tow went smoothly, Michelle allowing her imagination full reign as to his purpose in the settlement. Her daydream was interrupted abruptly by the presence of a police car with flashing lights forcing them off the road. She cursed aloud as a heavy set officer moved towards 'her' Marine.
'Good evening, sir. License and registration!'
She pressed her face outside her window to catch the exchange. Oh no, he's going to get a fine for this. Of all the ill luck in the world. He stopped to help you and it'll cost him money!
The Marine passed some papers across to the officer who scrutinized them intently. Michelle's heartbeat increased as she wondered what he could possibly find worth examining for that length of time. The Marine remained silent volunteering nothing. 'This is not your vehicle.'
He shook his head. 'It belongs to my grandmother. She lent it to me for the evening.'
'I'm going to have to check that. Wait here.'
The Marine nodded grimly, Michelle catching his eyes rolling in exasperation once the officer left. Her heart skipped a second beat. Oh God, he's CUTE! She clenched her hands together in an unconscious supplication for a second roll of eyes, but the officer's return caused a harder look to creep across 'her' Marine's face.
'The vehicle has not been reported stolen so I'm assuming you're speaking the truth!'
'Thanks,' the Marine muttered with a hint of sarcasm.
The officer flashed him an irritated look. 'Having said that, I need to ask you whether you're aware of the law concerning towing vehicles.'
Oh no – here it comes! He's going to get a hefty fine and he'll NEVER speak to you again! She winced in advanced sympathy.
'I read about something about it,' he replied with an added dash of sarcasm. 'What do you expect me to do, officer? Leave the young lady at the edge of the road for the next day or so?'
'The correct procedure would have been to give the young lady a ride and allowed road service to collect her car. I cannot allow you to take that vehicle any further!'
'You gotta be kiddin'!' the Marine exclaimed in disbelief. 'We're only 50 miles from a garage. You tellin' me to just leave the car here to freeze.'
'Towing a vehicle lacking tail lights is unsafe,' the officer repeated stubbornly.
'Look, under normal circumstances I'd agree with you, but out here there aren't any other vehicles on the road at all so I don't see why…'
'What you 'see' is irrelevant, sir,' the officer snapped, thoroughly riled up. 'That car cannot be taken any further. I'm writing you up a ticket for unsafe towing, Mr. eh,' he glanced at the license before him, 'Almeida.'
'Lieutenant,' the Marine snapped, stepping out of the vehicle. 'You really gotta do this? Why won't you take her car in then?'
'I got other duties to attend to,' the officer boasted thrusting his chest forward, 'Lieutenant Almeida. Policing the safety of the highway.'
'Right,' Tony muttered, frowning at the ticket thrust into his hand. 'You want a ride, Michelle? I'll get your car picked up and the officer can return to his vital task protecting the public by hiding behind that tree to see who else he can fine this evening.'
Michelle felt a violent urge to giggle at the sight of the pure fury on the officer's face. Oh no! That's going to cost him…
'Lieutenant Almeida, wait up.' The officer moved round his car, peering in detail at the back. 'Your left brake light isn't working. You realize that it is illegal to drive without both lights functioning?'
'I hadn't realized,' the Marine hissed.
'As you were driving the vehicle in question I'll write you a ticket for that infringement. See that it's repair within 24 hours.'
Tony nodded, Michelle's prayers begging him to keep his mouth shut working. He stuffed both tickets into the glove box and detached the tow rope tossing it onto the back seat. She climbed in the passenger side hurriedly, noting the Marine's thunderous expression. Here's to a real cheerful ride…
He drove in brooding silence for several minutes before the sigh she had struggled to hold back escaped her. A pair of dark eyes scrutinized her before he chewed his lip. 'I'm real sorry leaving your car,' he remarked. 'That officer is your worst example of law enforcement.' His scowl deepened and he turned to concentrate on an especially slippery patch.
'I'm the one who should apologize,' Michelle said in a hurry. 'This is all my fault. Had you driven past like the other two cars had you'd have arrived by now.'
'I was trained to retrieve all stranded vehicles,' he said emotionlessly, his face grim. 'A vehicle is a valuable commodity.'
A valuable commodity…Michelle sighed gently, chiding herself for her foolish thought that he had put himself out to assist her. Why would he do that, anyway? He doesn't even know you! Leaving a stranded vehicle bothers him…She tugged at a stray curl in irritation. Watch out. You'll start feeling hurt if you don't stop. A warm tear gathered in the corner of her eyes and she blinked rapidly.
'Her' Marine's eyes narrowed as he flashed her a glance. 'He did upset you. Listen Michelle, they're trained to sound tough. He had nothin' against you.'
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
'I'll sort out someone to collect your car the moment we arrive,' he promised, his tone gentler. 'It'll be fine.'
To her horror the burning tear escaped the confine of her eye and worked its way traitorously down her cheek. She rubbed it with the back of her hand.
The Marine reached past her, pulling open his glove box. He fumbled around inside before withdrawing a packet. 'Have some candy.' She sniffed, accepting a packet of peppermints. Sucking on them she worked hard to calm herself.
'So what are you doing these days?' the Marine inquired casually, having obviously decided to speak to her during the remainder of the journey. 'You studying something?'
She nodded, a hint of pride surging through her. 'I'm studying computer science at the University of California.'
'Aha,' he replied, risking a glance away from the treacherous road. 'It's kinda unusual for girls to be interested in that kinda thing.'
'There are only three of us,' she replied, prouder still.
The Marine nodded. 'I can believe it,' he agreed. 'So what made you choose computers?' She detected a note of genuine interest in his voice for the first time.
'It's the future,' she replied, struggling to put her intuition into words. 'Those who understand computer systems will have access to information flow.'
'And you like to be aware of things,' he guessed, nodding in what she sensed was approval. 'I have a Masters in computer science,' he added, his slight sarcasm replaced by pride.
Her eyes widened. 'So why…' She shut her mouth in a hurry, deciding it was not her place to question his career decisions. Why won't you get a job in some office where you'll be safe?
The dark eyes flickered momentarily. 'They paid for my education,' he said, his voice expressionless.
'But you must have repaid that by now?' she exclaimed.
'Yeah.' He fell silent, slowing for an especially slippery stretch. 'I can't leave my guys,' he began, his brow creased in a frown, his voice quieter, as though he were speaking to himself rather than to her. 'They deserve an officer who'll keep them safe. You get to know them after a while. And there's so much work to do till conditions stabilize…' His voice trailed off, leaving Michelle aching to hear more.
He's seen a lot! Instinctively she knew he would be unable to explain his decision to remain on active duty any further. For the first time she felt the divide between her position as a civilian and his position as a military officer.
'Right now one of my guys needs a little help,' he continued without being asked. 'He got himself involved in some bar fight.' Exasperation mixed with understanding lit his eyes. 'I'm going to help him out.'
Michelle turned to stare at him. 'That's not your responsibility, surely?' she demanded. You only got a month off; you should spend it with your family and friends.
He shrugged, eyes fixed ahead. 'Technically, you're right. What they do at home is between them and the Marine Corps. But they're MY platoon! I can't just abandon them when we get home. They had a tough time.' His voice hardened slightly and she nodded, aware they had seen what he had and were likewise affected. 'Peters deserves a break!'
'And you're going to tell the sheriff that?' she guessed, her eyes lighting up as she studied his stubborn profile. My God, he looks tough! I wouldn't like to be in the sheriff's shoes! A shiver of anticipation rushed down her spine.
'Yeah!' he replied, giving his characteristic half-nod.
'And what if he doesn't see things your way?' she pressed, a tinge of worry rushing through her.
'He will,' the Marine replied grimly.
Michelle shivered again. I wouldn't want to cross him – ever! 'It's his jurisdiction,' she reminded her companion. 'He might not listen to you.'
He shot her a fiery glance. 'He will.'
Michelle found herself praying he would be successful, increasingly concerned over the coming clash between 'her' lieutenant who would move heaven and earth to free 'his' man, and some small town sheriff. 'You'll remember to be…to be tactful?' she begged.
Tony spared her a few seconds look as he parked before the police station. 'Aha.'
She watched him collect a few military documents before pulling his jacket on. 'I don't know how long this will take,' he admitted, his eyes studying her loose curls. 'It's a little cold in the car. You should go get a coffee or something.'
Michelle shook her head. 'I'll be fine,' she said, not daring to admit her concern to him. She settled more comfortably in the seat and he nodded reluctantly, urging her to get a coffee should she reconsider. With a final glance at her hair, which appeared to draw his eyes like magnets, he pushed the door shut, walking confidently towards the police station.
Michelle allowed a grimace to cross her face. She doubted his task would be as simple as he expected. Her abandoned vehicle forgotten, she stepped from the car and crept over to the station, peering through a chink in the blinds. An overweight sheriff scowled in her direction from behind a counter and her stomach knotted before she realized she wasn't the object of his animosity. No, the scowl was reserved for the young Marine who stood before him, arms folded. She watched a while longer, her coat tight about her until the sheriff rose, pointing a pudgy finger at the Marine, whose eyes narrowed dangerously. Taking a deep breath she resolved to enter and cool tensions.
'Hi,' she greeted, a diplomatic smile on her face. 'How's it going?'
Both men stared at her, the sheriff visibly distracted from haranguing 'her' Marine. Tony, on the other hand, glared in her direction.
'Not real well,' he observed. 'You should get that coffee, Michelle.'
'There is no way I can overlook this type of disturbance,' the sheriff repeated for what appeared the umpteenth time judging by 'her' Marine's hiss. 'This is a law-abiding community. People can't just come here and smash property and expect to get away with it. We have laws here!'
'And I've already told you I'll take care of it,' the Marine snarled. 'I mean, how much damage can one man have caused in that kind of a bar, anyway? I told you I'll pay for it!'
Michelle gasped in astonishment. Never in her life had she heard of such loyalty as she witnessed played out before her. The sheriff appeared unmoved. 'I've already given you my answer, Mr…'
'Lieutenant,' the Marine hissed. 'Look, Peters has a clean record. I realize that wouldn't mean much to you over here, but in the Marine Corps that means….'
'I got no trouble with basic comprehension, lieutenant,' the sheriff snapped, his temper rising. 'Now I've given you my answer several times already. Paying for the damage will not cover the disturbance he caused. I suggest you return to wherever you're spending your leave and not interfere in police business any further!'
'Look here, Officer…' Tony paused, reading the name on the badge, 'Grendale. While you're sitting here filling in forms and chasing kids stealing apples off the neighbor's tree, my men and I are holding the peace in Iraq. We're been fired upon by RPG's, by Kalashnikovs, we've been ambushed and we've been captured. We were held without food or water for three days in a tin shed in the height of summer. When we leave our barracks, we're never sure we'll return. You got no idea what that does to you over the months. Peters has volunteered for a second tour, so in my book that makes him a loyal soldier. He deserves a little leeway, wouldn't you agree?'
'No one has the right to enter a bar and trash the place,' the sheriff argued. 'For the final time - go. I will not overlook his actions.'
'Her' Marine narrowed his eyes further, a grim determination creeping into them. 'I got the right to speak to him.'
'That you do,' the sheriff agreed, startling Michelle by his reasonableness. 'You can spend the rest of the night locked up with him if you won't leave right away! It's purely…'
'Excuse me,' she interrupted, drawing a deep breath as her natural hesitation to attract attention was replaced by a desire to save her friend from what looked alarmingly like a night in jail. 'It's so cold out there, Officer. The road conditions are so bad; I was really scared a few times coming here.'
The sheriff softened, nodding at her. 'It's bad out there alright. You folks shouldn't have ventured out.'
'You see, my friend,' she dared not glance at Tony, 'really cares for his men. Their lives are his responsibility. This guy Peters, he can be a real troublemaker, but he's a good soldier. He saved the entire platoon's life one morning when he personally disarmed a mine the lieutenant stepped on, so Tony just can't bear not to see what he can do to help out. We came a long way, officer.'
The sheriff appeared to relent. He glanced at the silent Marine who was engaged in staring at the floor, chewing his lip. 'That true, lieutenant?'
'Military actions are classified, sir,' the Marine replied, rubbing his neck and casting her an unfathomable glance.
'Well, seeing as how's the guy's quite a hero, you might want to just speak to him for ten minutes, like. Just ten, mind you,' the officer decided. 'You going in too?' he asked, turning to her.
'No sir, I'll wait out here under the heater,' Michelle said hurriedly, not daring to look at 'her' Marine who was certain never to speak to her again. 'I'm still trying to warm up.'
'Well, would you like a cup of tea?' the sheriff inquired, turning a smile onto her.
'I'd love one,' she agreed, risking a glance at the lieutenant who stared at her in bemusement. Watch and learn. Pleasantness goes further than threats! You've been at war too long. She settled on the chair the sheriff brought for her and allowed him to describe the dangers associated with driving in icy conditions, the litany of gruesome accidents turning her stomach as he warmed to his theme. A second officer escorted 'her' Marine back as she was seriously considering never getting behind a wheel again.
'You've had your time, lieutenant. You should be satisfied now,' the sheriff told him.
'Sir, Peters regrets starting that brawl,' he replied, struggling to remain civil.
'I'll bet he does. He'll be even sorrier tomorrow once I call the Marine Corps.'
Tony rubbed his neck, grimacing. 'What would it take to make this disappear?'
'It won't happen, trust me. You'd have to go speak to Mr. Williams, the owner of the bar and persuade him to drop charges.'
The Marine nodded. 'It's that bar directly across the road, right?' They watched the sheriff's nod.
'Good luck,' he called dismissively, a smirk on his face.
Michelle rose. 'Let's try, anyway,' she said. 'Thanks for your help, officer.'
'You got it,' he agreed, favoring her with a smile.
'Hah,' the Marine muttered once the door muffled his words.
'You should be grateful,' Michelle protested, following him across the snow covered pavement. 'Tony.' He turned, pausing to allow her to catch up. 'I don't mean to intrude, but, if you really want the guy to drop charges, maybe…'
He listened without interruption, dark eyes boring into hers.
'You should let me talk,' she finished in a rush. 'Just to get him in a reasonable mood.'
The eyes flickered and the breath caught in her throat. Oh boy. You've over stepped the mark. He's about to order you to back off! Her hand tightened around a stray curl, her fingers tugging it, a nervous habit she had carried over from her childhood.
Once again his eyes turned gentle. 'It's probably a good idea,' he agreed. 'We'll give it a go. Michelle – this has to work. The Marine Corps doesn't take this kinda thing lightly.'
'It will work,' she assured him with quiet confidence, entering the bar before him. One look at the redneck behind the counter told her she was in for a battle. Think of something, quick. 'Tony, you're wounded,' she whispered.
'What?' he whispered back, startled. 'I was, but….'
'And it still hurts,' she hissed. 'Limp!'
'My legs were never injured,' he insisted in a low voice.
'Limp!' she repeated firmly, leading the way to the bar, where she settled on a stool. To his credit the lieutenant followed her, noticeably favoring his right leg. He exchanged a collaborative glance with her, shame in his eyes. Two men playing pool at a distant table stared openly at them and a drunk lying across a table in the center of the room managed to slide back into his chair. 'You gonna buy me a drink?' she whispered.
'Her' Marine nodded, settling onto a bar stool with ease, apparently having forgotten his knee injury. 'A scotch and a…' he glanced at her, his eyes taking in the rest of the shabby bar.
'A tequila sunrise,' she decided, loving the paper umbrella they gave with the drink. If she stared at it long enough she could picture herself on a warm beach during sunset (sunrise being out of the question) watching the waves swishing gently onto a golden shore. After the events of the afternoon she welcomed the warmth and the bright color set before her.
'There you go,' the bartender said, throwing her a lecherous smile. 'You from Chicago?'
'Yes we are,' she agreed, masking her revulsion. I'm Michelle, and he's Lieutenant Almeida…'
'Not another Marine!' cried the bartender, exchanging glances with the former pool players who moved to the free stools, a thick odor of nicotine emanating from them. 'You think you're gonna fight Eddie here for the pool cues?'
'I don't play pool,' the lieutenant said softly, sipping his drink. 'Look, you're obviously not a man able to be fooled, so I'll get to the point. The Marine Corps regrets yesterday's incident and we're willing to pay for the damage.'
'As a goodwill gesture,' Michelle interrupted, her eyes shining with sincerity. 'To soothe relations between the services and the people they represent abroad.'
The bartender blinked, his ego puffed by the lieutenant's comment. 'Marine Corps willing to pay for my smashed pool cues?'
'Absolutely,' the lieutenant agreed, taking another sip of his scotch.
'And that sonofabitch will get thrown into your jail?' the man pressed.
Michelle took a sip of tequila, pushing the umbrella back as she noted the warning flicker in her 'friend's' eyes. Oh no. He's going to blow this!
'They're not exactly going to congratulate him,' she said hurriedly. 'Tony, my friend, came to collect him to take him to the brig to face charges. It's one of his jobs.'
The bartender glanced at the lieutenant who barely managed to pull an impassive look onto his face at the latest comment. 'That so?' he pressed. 'Tell me one thing, lieutenant. Why is the Marine Corps so eager to pay for the damage?'
'We like to maintain the peace between our enlisted personnel and the rest of the citizens,' he said, nodding at Michelle.
'The thing is, sir, it's kind of classified, but seeing that your bar was damaged…You can keep this to yourself?' Michelle questioned, noting the natural curiosity her words generated. Seeing all the men present nod at once, she lowered her voice, forcing them to lean closer to her. 'The Marine Corps is eager to make this kind of thing 'go away', if you know what I mean. They enjoy an unsullied reputation…' Seeing her audiences' blank looks at the final sentence she took a deep breath. 'They like to look good,' she finished.
'I hear you,' the bartender said, nodding his head in her direction. 'So you're here to settle the damage bill and take the guy back for private punishment. Throw him in some dark hole?'
The lieutenant nodded, wordless.
'I've seen the place,' Michelle added in a hurry, noting the man wavering. 'It's absolute hell. Nothing like a civilian jail. You know he took me to see it once, and it's completely dark, and there's no TV or radio, and just an old bucket to…You get the picture? That's where they stick people like Peters for several weeks.'
'Several weeks, ah?' the bartender questioned, gazing directly at the lieutenant who returned his stare without flinching.
'You heard her,' he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Michelle dared not look at him. 'It's real awful if you think about it,' she said quietly. 'Several weeks in such a place.'
'If you ask me, he'd deserve a lot longer,' the bartender said maliciously.
Oh God, that's done it. He's never going to sit through that… 'The thing is, this guy is quite a hero on the battlefield,' she said hurriedly, shooting a warning look at 'her' lieutenant to hold his tongue. 'Once they were driving along the highway in this big truck, what was it called?' she asked sweetly.
'An armored personnel carrier,' the lieutenant supplied, raising his eyebrows.
'That was it, yes,' Michelle said, throwing him a smile. 'I get these army trucks mixed up all the time. Now this really is classified, but it's me telling you, so…The road was mined by these militants and the, what was it?'
'The armored personnel carrier,' he reminded her.
'Yes, it drove onto it just a sec after the lieutenant ordered them to stop. Now Peters was sitting up top because it's his job to get first shot at any sighted militant,' she ignored the rapid blinking of the lieutenant, 'and he just told them to sit tight and he slid under the tank…'
'The personnel carrier,' the lieutenant muttered, reaching for his drink.
'Will you let her tell it!' snapped the bartender. 'What happened then?'
'He crawled over to the mine and set about disarming it. You saw that on the TV, how you got to sit absolutely still while it's being disarmed, so they all sat in the, the…'
'Armored car,' the bartender supplied, spellbound. 'Then what?'
'Well, it's really secret. Tony shouldn't really have told me…'
'Come on, tell us. Did he deal with that f...ing mine, or what?' he pressed impatiently.
'Come on, we won't tell anyone!' the drunk slurred.
Michelle drew a deep breath, casting a genuinely nervous glance at 'her' lieutenant who appeared engrossed in his shoes. 'Peters opened it in a tiny space where he could barely raise his head and it took him over an hour with an old set of screwdrivers, but he done it, till he reached a stage where he found some wires. There was a red one and a blue one, and he only had this one chance to get the right one. He could've just walked away and left everyone else to get blown-up, but he stayed and just picked….'
'The red one,' the bartender interrupted. 'It's always the red wire.'
'You're good at this!' Michelle complimented him, kicking the silent lieutenant. 'Isn't he, Tony?'
'Yeah,' he agreed, rubbing his neck.
'Wasn't it the red one, Tony?' she pressed, determined to include him in the dialogue.
'You know I can't discuss military matters,' he replied honestly.
'Ah,' the bartender exclaimed, waving him away. 'So after he cut the red wire, what happened?'
'The bomb stopped ticking,' Michelle continued, hearing a sharp intake of breath from her companion, who placed his hand firmly over his lips. 'And Tony ordered Peters to get back into the truck, but before he could do that some militants arrived in some old brown cars that looked exactly like the desert sand, and they started firing grenades at the tank…'
'And the poor bastard was still outside?' the bartender gasped, his eyes large.
'He was,' she agreed, her voice turning sorrowful. She raised her glass, draining the final drop of tequila sunrise. The bartender moved, handing her a second one.
'Keep going,' he urged. 'What happened then?'
'Well, he hid behind the wheel of the truck, and took out one of his grenades, and just threw it in through the open window of the leading car, which was at least 20 yards away and closing fast. It blew up leaving a massive crater in the highway, so I guess Peters really saved a lot of lives that day. Tony's real grateful.'
The Marine nodded, rubbing his neck. 'He's quite a guy!'
'He's got a problem though, just like all heroes,' Michelle continued, praying for assistance. 'No matter how brave he is, he'll never get any recognition, because he can't read. Others always take the credit, and it sometimes gets to him…'
'Would piss me off too,' the bartender agreed, her entire audience nodding. 'Someone sitting in some air conditioned office who never saw a gun would get a medal…'
'That's exactly what happened,' Michelle insisted, turning to the lieutenant. 'Isn't it so, Tony?'
'Awarding medals is hardly my jurisdiction,' he said, chewing his lip.
'It's the same everywhere,' the bartender sighed.
'So Peters was in a real bad mood when he got home,' Michelle continued. 'He's got a problem with his temper, and after seeing the Captain with his medal, he just, well, he was real upset…'
'Say no more,' the bartender interrupted. 'It really sucks! And he wants to stick this guy in some hole?' He pointed an accusing, beefy finger at Tony's chest.
'No sir, that wouldn't be my first choice,' Tony said honestly. 'I'd like to pay for the damages and keep this quiet, but that's up to you.'
'If you'd drop charges and let us compensate you for the trouble Peters caused, he could go home to his wife and four kids,' Michelle said. 'His wife needs him back; she's expecting twins any day.'
The bartender blinked in astonishment. 'He's a little young for that many brats,' he said, shaking his head. 'Poor bastard won't be getting much peace at home, either. No wonder he's reenlisted! I wouldn't want to do anything to harm our soldiers,' he concluded, turning to Tony.
The lieutenant nodded, breathing easier. 'If you'd let me know what the damage bill amounted to…'
'It wasn't that much, really,' the man assured him. '200 dollars, that's all.' They watched the money counted into his palm. 'See you take better care of your men, lieutenant,' he finished, glaring at Tony. 'Having guys sitting outside your tank is real dangerous. It's too hot in the desert!'
They left the bar a minute later, the lieutenant striding rapidly towards the door. 'Limp,' Michelle hissed and he slowed. He held open the door for her, following her outside into the icy night. The silence was broken only by their footsteps crunching over the snow as they made their way back to the police station with the papers safely tucked under his arms.
'Tony, I'm sorry,' she began, determined to apologize.
He paused, his expression startled. 'What for?'
'For taking over. For making up those stories.' She tugged at her curls without being aware of her actions, watching him unhappily. 'I'm sorry,' she repeated.
He shook his head rapidly. 'Don't be. You done great. Michelle, I'd NEVER have gotten Peters released. I need to thank you.'
A warm feeling rushed through her as she noted his eyes turn gentle. Her lips broke into a wide grin. 'You're welcome.'
'I just got a question,' he admitted, rubbing his neck. 'How'd you know Peters is expecting twins? And that he's got a coupla older kids? I only found out myself last week.'
Her eyes widened before she smiled, thrilled at the awe in his eyes. You can say whatever you like, Michelle. At this stage, he'll believe it. 'Call it intuition,' she replied warmly. 'He's the kind of guy who would have a large family. Real heroes always do!'
The lieutenant nodded. 'Real heroes, ah. You know, if you ever got tired of computers, you could come out as a journalist and write stories about my platoon. My men would love to read them.'
She gasped in astonishment. 'I never thought about that. I'm not that good with military equipment.'
He shrugged, taking her hand to guide her over a slippery patch. 'I could correct it, you know, before it got to print.' Something in his tone sent a shiver down her spine and she raised her eyes to his, shocked to see genuine warmth in them. 'We should go get Peters.'
She nodded, making no attempt to remove her hand from his as they returned. He pushed open the door and they entered, Michelle moving over to the heater automatically. The sheriff eyed them suspiciously as the lieutenant laid a few papers on the counter. 'You're not askin' me to believe Williams dropped charges?' he sneered. 'How the hell'd you manage that?'
'She asked him nicely,' the lieutenant muttered. 'Sir, we need to get back to Chicago tonight. If you'd just get Peters…'
'That's impossible,' the sheriff replied, delighted to hold him up. 'I've just had the road back officially shut. It's too dangerous. And we're now closed for the night. You can come back at 8:30 in the morning with those papers and you'll get your man. Good evening!'
The lieutenant scratched his neck in uncertainty. 'Is there any place in this town to spend a night?'
'There isn't,' the sheriff said smugly, before turning away. 'Folks are not real wealthy round here and we don't get so many tourists!'
They left the building, the Marine placing the papers into his car. Michelle stood outside uncertainly, reminded of her own abandoned vehicle. 'Ah, Michelle, where does your grandmother live? The road onwards is still open – I could drive you there. I'll deliver these papers tomorrow, get Peters and deal with your car, but we won't get anything more done here tonight and it's getting colder.' He shivered through his jacket and she realized guiltily she still wore his gloves.
'Thanks,' she said gratefully, climbing in beside him. You'll get out of this cold real soon now. She watched him start the car and reverse it, turning onto the narrow road. And where would he sleep? 'What about you?' she questioned. 'What will you do tonight?'
He shrugged, his eyes on the snow banks. 'I got the car,' he muttered.
Her eyes widened. Once they reached a small cottage she nodded at him. 'Tony, that's her house. Wait a sec.'
He nodded and she raced through the snow to the path, banging on the door. An elderly woman opened it, drawing her into her arms. She noted 'her' Marine watching them intently. 'Grandma, my car skidded. This is Lieutenant Almeida; he was decent enough to give me a ride. He'll bring the car tomorrow after it's fixed. He's got nowhere to go for the night,' she whispered, her mouth to her grandmother's ear. 'It's so cold out there.'
The Marine's eyes widened as they returned to him, arms around each other. The old woman smiled warmly. 'Michelle tells me you helped her out, Captain. It's real cold out here tonight. I haven't got much to offer, but you're welcome to the couch. Do you like shepherd's pie?'
Michelle chewed her lip, relaxing into a grin as he nodded eagerly. 'I do. If you're sure I'm not putting you out.'
'Not at all,' she insisted, turning back to the house. 'I'll get the plates.'
'Come on,' Michelle encouraged, forcing herself to sound casual and remain still. You won't jump for joy, Michelle! Act normally or he'll escape. 'Come in,' she urged, unable to hide her delight at having the chance to get to know 'her' Marine better. And please don't smile at us both that way, Grandma. I know what you're thinking, we make a great pair, but you'll terrify the guy – and…I don't want him to leave.