A/N: Credit to Saved by the Bell (for a certain brick-phone-having, mischief-making character), Upstairs, Downstairs (the theme, not the show) and the arch in FLOTUS' back (a true inspiration).
Keep sending me your M words - I'll either use them for chapter names or weave them into the story.
Random fact: this chapter could've been called Melee or Marksman.
FYI: A Military arrest record contains a member of the Armed service's disciplinary record and sits inside their personnel file. In the Military each branch of service has marksmanship badges for certain types of weaponry and levels of proficiency. As its name suggests, a flamethrower projects burning fuel (fire).
Chapter 6: Morris
Friday 2nd September 2016, 8.41am, Aunt Tullie's house, Summerville, South Carolina
Blissfully unaware of the storm that was brewing downstairs, Joss woke up with John spooning her, no ring on her finger and a tongue in her ear. "Good morning to you too, John. If I didn't know better I'd think you were up to something."
"Ye of little faith."
"You got the look." She commented.
"Of love?" He tried.
"Of mischief. And mayhem. And impending doom."
"You're such a pessimist."
"I'm a realist. And you're quite the linguist this morning."
"If that's what you call it…" She watched his head disappear under the covers in his attempt to distract her with as many languages as his tongue could come up with; the roll of Español, the sweep of Russian, the fragility of French, the simple complexity of English. Deep down, Joss knew he was taking advantage of her weakness as she crumbled down to pieces, but she didn't dare stop him. After all, every lock had a key.
...
Birth name: Johnathan Zachary Morris
Date of birth: October 10th 1966
Place of birth, Redding, California.
Next of Kin: Susan Morris (spouse)
Spurred by her heightened sense of curiosity and excited by her role as private eye in this mystery; Rosie reached the military base at sundown to retrieve the confidential file from her son and had read it at least six times before she shared it with Cammelia and Sterling. They stayed up to the early hours of the morning discussing how to solve a problem like John and get him away from their niece. With the information in the manilla folder, Rosie lit a stick of fire and threw it in the woods. So although there were fresh donuts and freshly squeezed orange juice on the kitchen table, Evelyn was having a very different kind of morning. Her eyes glanced over the first page before she dumped it on the table.
For once Cammie wasn't coming from a place of judgement but concern. "He was a miscreant. Look at this; ward of the state, arson, assault, arson, assault with a deadly weapon all before 18, are you hearing me?"
Evelyn poured herself a glass of juice. "He was a child, he lacked guidance."
"What about all this, Evie?" Sterling asked. "How're you gonna take 8 years just to make Second Lieutenant? His arrest record*'s longer than my left leg. From the look of things, the only thing he was ever good at was shooting people. And flamethrowing."
"Tell me something I don't already know." Evelyn said with the boredom of an eighth-grader in detention.
...
For a dominant man, John was surprisingly subdued with Joss on top. In the time he had known her; he'd come to appreciate her rhythm as much as her curves, especially in reverse. Joss moved like the waves, sending currents through his body almost strong enough to make him tap out. Almost. "Did you lock the door?"
"Why?" She asked, throwing her hair back and daring him with her eyes.
A sharp smack and giggle followed giving meaning to the phrase: things that hurt and feel good at the same time. "That's why."
...
Rosie continued her campaign downstairs. "John had a Court-Martial hearing for mutiny and assaulting a superior commissioned officer, Commander Wallis, in '98. The transcript is whited-out; all it says is acquitted. And you know what that means."
"What what means?" Taylor asked obliviously, going for a crueller.
"You're interrupting." Cammie stated with disapproval, glaring until he disappeared empty-handed. "He's a killer, Evelyn. Six weeks after the trial, Commander Wallis died of natural causes."
"Not to mention the wife." Uncle Sterling chipped in, doing his best to earn a cigar. "Evelyn's façade cracked; no matter how many times she pried, John had always insisted he was never married. "See for yourself; he married a woman he barely knew in '05, Susan, and moved to Bozeman, Montana – in the middle of nowhere. 18 months later, she died of natural causes. Then he sold the house for 200 grand and we can't find anything else. Not in Montana. Not even in New York."
Evelyn grabbed the records off the table, wishing she could make it stop, stunned that there was something that she didn't know. "John is not a killer."
"He has to be. Because Jason said the only way John stayed in service after that hearing, was if he was Delta. And Delta records are above his rank. So, are you still forging ahead with this wedding because if you don't stop it, I will." Rosie declared, with all the vitriol she had stored inside for her soon-to-be-ex-daughter-in-law, Jackie.
For once, Cammie let her mask drop. It had been a week and Hamilton still hadn't arrived, and she had run out of excuses as to why. "At best, he's a con artist using someone else's identity." Her second husband, Arnold, fell into that category. "At worst, he's a murderer who got away with it and set up camp with Jocelyn and Taylor. Jocelyn, who's had her fair share of heartache and has an entire career to lose associating with this man. Save her from herself, Maggie, save her from him."
"Ev," Gregory called from the doorway, offering an escape. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" She rushed towards him as fast as she could with the folder under her arm.
...
The last time they were interrupted with harried knocks on the door, Joss' elderly neighbour Señora Marquez was on the other side of the door with a wagging finger and the expression "demasiado ruido" on repeat. Frustrated that she hadn't reached her peak when John already had, she grabbed a fluffy bathrobe from the closet and threw a t-shirt and slacks in his direction. "Coming!" Joss called, when the knocks didn't stop. "Jeez, I said I'm coming!"
When John had flexed his thighs enough times to lose his erection and get dressed, she opened the door to Aunt Tullie who was visibly upset. "Jocelyn, we need to talk about you and Mr Morris here."
"Morris…" Joss repeated, as John put on his watch and tried to avoid eye contact.
John pulled out the chair in the corner. "Come in, we can explain."