Friday afternoon.
Diana pulled into a visitor parking spot and nearly died when she stepped out of the car in the hot southern summer heat. 106 degrees with a hundred percent humidity. Swearing beneath her breath as she left behind the air-conditioned comfort of her car. She slammed her door and pulled her dark hair up in a bun, getting it off her neck, which was beginning to perspire.
Muttering a thanks between profanities that the barracks were close, she hauled it across the scorching parking lot. Feeling the heat of the concrete beneath her pink flip-flops.
When she got to the front door it opened and a young men of maybe twenty-one gave her the brightest smile in the world. It almost blinded her. "Afternoon ma'am, how may I help you?"
His young wandering eye was not lost on Diana. She gave him a toothy smile, "I'm here to pick up my booty-call. Where do I sign him out at?"
The young men's ears turned pink. A giggle could not be suppressed as he led Diana into the barracks and towards the front desk. He took a clipboard from the desk. Grabbed a pen, gave both to her and inquired, "Who're you picking up?"
In flowing cursive she signed her name, Jeff's name, the date and pertinent information. She glanced up with her eyes, "Sergeant Major Jeff Sanderson."
The young man paled and looked deathly ill against the pale green of his uniform. Amused, Diana asked as she looked back to her task, "Has he not been behaving himself?"
Acknowledging that Jeff was of higher rank he nodded, "Yes yes ma'am, he-he's been an inspiration. I I ju-just didn't think the Sergeant Major had a girlfriend."
Diana purred and handed the young man, Johnson, according to his black name badge, the clipboard. "Can I go pick him up? Or does he had to be summoned?"
"He-he's having, he's having his room inspection before he can leave."
Diana raised both her eyebrows.
She could only imagine what that would do to his already testy mood. She glanced around the common area and saw battered old couches, a TV, bookshelves, a pay phone, and quite a bit of plaques and pictures. Curious she walked over to the plaques and Johnson followed her.
"Are you married Mrs…?"
Diana's eyes traveled over the pictures of graduated classes that filled an entire wall. "Mrs. Gibson. No, not anymore."
"You still have your wedding band on," young Johnson helpfully pointed out.
Diana glanced at the young man. Utterly enthralled at the young man, when she spotted an older officer who spotted her, his jaw dropped, "Diana McKnight," he demanded from across the room.
She smiled brightly, "Hi Ioan."
Colonel Ioan Martin handed the younger officer he had been chatting with a clipboard and crossed the room. He dismissed young Johnson with the wave of his bear sized hand.
He trapped Diana in a tight hug, his girth surrounding her. When he let her go he held her at arm's length, "Sorry to hear about Gibson. He was a really great guy."
Diana smiled and asked, "How's the leg?"
With a grin the larger man lifted his pant leg and revealed the steel that went from his knee down. "It's waterproof! It won't rust. I'm pretty sure I could use it as a weapon if the occasion ever presents itself."
"You can hope," Diana commented and he smirked, "There's always the dream. What are you doing here? You picking up Jeff? Please tell me you're picking him up, he almost took my head off when I told him his bed was not made to regulations."
She bit her lip to stop the grin.
"He'll be with you soon, he's getting smoked right now for that."
"So you're sending him away with me for the weekend exceptionally moody, how can I ever thank you?"
Towering over her he looked down at the woman, "You. Daughter of one Danny McKnight, wife of one Norm Gibson. Jeffy should be a walk in the park. I'm surprised you don't have him better trained."
The look she gave him was pure sarcasm. "Oh yeah, I'll get right on it. Let me just pencil that into my schedule. Like I don't have enough to do already."
For a few minutes the colonel smiled broadly at her. Taking in her joke, and then his smile fell and he was all business. "But, Diana, seriously. You have to do something. He's an asset to the Army. But he's been in that particular unit too long and he's having serious problems. I've sat down several times with the man and he's getting smoked on a daily basis…between you and me, I think he's enjoying it."
She gave him a blank look and began to rub her temples, "Ioan."
He cut her off with the wave of his hand. "Diana. He had the potential to be an amazing officer, he could probably make colonel. The man is brilliant and professional. Once he gets back in the real Army and back into our way of doing things he'll be fine. But…I need you to help get him back on track."
While his concern was touching, Diana pursed her lips. She put her hands firmly on her hips, "I'm a little more concerned about his happiness and general well being over his career."
"Of course, me too."
Diana rolled her eyes. A smart remark was on the tip of her tongue and then she saw Jeff. In that hideous green uniform with a bag over his shoulder. Medals, pins, rope, and ribbons were pinned onto his chest, shoulders, and hat making him look like a Christmas tree. A tall unhappy tree with a buzzed hair cut.
The look on his face said it all. Someone kill me now before I take out everyone here.
Sanderson came to a stop beside Diana and in something close to a growl acknowledged the colonel, whom he was on a first name basis with weeks earlier, "Sir."
Diana's hand gently touched his waist and found that he not only was as tense as a block of wood, he probably could have been used as a battering ram and he wouldn't have noticed or cared. She gave his taut waist and gentle rub and he met her compassionate eyes.
The colonel gave Diana a knowing look and then addressed Sanderson, "Enjoy your weekend Sergeant Major."
Friday Night.
The reservations for the hotel had been made and the selection was slim. There were three hotels in the area. One catered to truckers and was next to a truck stop and mere feet away from the interstate. The second charged by the hour and was in an area that was just a little too lively for Jeff's tastes. The third was a run-of-the-mill Holiday Inn.
He had picked the Holiday Inn that's last renovation was when Nixon was in the White House. But, compared to the other hotels, the Holiday Inn was the Ritz.
Jeff set the bags down and looked around the small, stale and dingy room.
Tired in more ways then one.
He turned as she locked the door and told him, "Go get in bed."
"We need to talk first."
"No," she continued, while she barricaded them in, "We can talk tomorrow. Go. Get. In. Bed."
Finished, she turned and saw that tired and miserable look. She had a lot of work ahead of her. First she took the pale green button up uniform shirt he wore in her hands and directed him backwards, toward the bed with 1960's style comforter. While she directed him she informed him, "There will be absolutely no talk about the Army, the military, or anything until tomorrow." They came to the bed and she pushed him, he didn't fight her, he let himself fall back on the mattress, which seemed to resemble putty in substance.
"Diana," he began.
"Shut-up," she ordered, she climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist. For a few moments he was both confused and surprised. He watched as she began to unbutton his green shirt and got it off, all without his help. Then his white undershirt, "Diana, I'm really not in the mood."
She looked into his worn blue eyes while she worked on unlatching his belt, "Did I say you could speak? No, I didn't."
He placed his hands on her side and she smacked them away. She defeated the belt and had it off and tossed it over her shoulder in a matter of seconds.
"Diana," he began, his hand fell on her arm.
She pulled her arm free and pointed pointedly at him, "What did I tell you about talking?"
He began to sit up and she shoved him back down.
His hand grabbed her's which she took advantage of. She trapped his hand, took his watch off and dropped it on the bed, then tossed his hand back down on the bed. Annoyed, he covered his face with both his hands. He felt her unlace and toss his black dress shoes onto the floor.
Then came his socks and the knife he had sheathed on his ankle.
When he felt his pants unbutton he sat up and was shoved rather roughly back down.
"Diana," he growled, propping himself up on his elbows.
She sat straight and complained, "You're talking again! Make me happy and shut your mouth."
He quieted down and contemplated her for a moment while she finished undressing him from where she was seated. "Look, I know what you're doing. You can't have sex with the unwilling."
She grabbed the TV remote from the bed beside her ankle and turned the TV on. She flipped around till she found ESPN. "Here. Be a good boy and watch the football game. I'll be done in a few minutes and I'll feed you after that…if you don't fall asleep."
"Diana," he whined.
Once again, she pushed him back and pinned his hands above his head. Mere inches away from his face she hissed, "Shut-up." Before he could respond she pushed his face to the side, towards the TV. Allowing her access to his neck, shoulder, and ear and beyond. Which she took advantage of. He moved his arms and she pushed them back into the bedding. He began to move his legs. In an attempt to push her forward. Instead, she pushed herself onto her hands and knees, keeping herself above him.
When he moved his face back towards her she pushed it back.
He pulled his hand free and attempted to sit up, attempting to pull her close. Again, she shoved him back and swatted his hands away. Her fingers expertly spanned the firm expanse of muscle that made up his chest and stomach, followed by her lips.
When his hands found the waistband of her denim shorts she shifted and sat up. Her nails dug into his hips. One last time he sat up, one last time he tried to kiss her. Again, she shoved him back down.
Then he grabbed her wrists. A feeling of pure excitement streaked through her body and before she knew it she was on her back, pinned beneath his solid weight to the mattress. His lips found hers and roughly, for the first time in many weeks, kissed her. Making her respond and match his hunger. Not once did his lips leave her's while he all but ripped the shorts down her legs. They ended up tangled around one of her ankles.
She managed to break his kiss and demand, "I thought you weren't willing?"
He stopped his struggle at getting her bikini cut Hanes down her legs and saw the smile curling at the edges of her lips. "Shut-up," he growled right before he kissed her again.