I shouldn't be mad. I shouldn't care so much. So he wanted to take Baby AJ out to some 'Daddy and Me' social on the first night in months I arranged for us to be alone together. I should be happy he loves our son so much.

Slamming the files into their proper place, I sit and stare up at all the news channels on the multiple TVs showing some God awful war somewhere and I wish I could just stick Bud there. Then he'd appreciate me more. Appreciate me going through everything I did to get a babysitter for tonight. All night. I couldn't just use our normal teenage kid from up the street. I hired Mrs. Appleton from the church to watch after AJ all night. And boy, did I feel like a fool canceling. I made reservations for dinner. I bought a new dress. I made hotel reservations. I went all out. Just so we could be alone. We haven't been alone in a while.

And Bud went and joined some 'Daddy and Me' club. And tonight was the first meeting and oh no, we couldn't miss that, now could we?

Then to top it all off, when I dropped them off and I came up with some excuse about working so I wouldn't have to sit in the house alone, Bud went and did something I just never thought he'd do. It was just the icing on the cake of my bad evening. But it is so stupid. I shouldn't be upset. I shouldn't. I just can't believe he did it. But I'm not going to be mad.

"Lieutenant Sims? What are you doing here?"

I turn around to see Commander Rabb carrying a stack of file folders in his arms, completely surprised that I'm here. He looks up at the clock and then back at me. And I thought I was alone here. I don't remember seeing his car. Of course, sometimes I still look for the wrong car.

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to startle you. I was just  . . . filling out requisition forms for . . ." I struggle to remember what it was I filling out. I wasn't really paying any attention as I did it and I hope Gunnery Sergeant Galindez doesn't have to come and clean up my mess tomorrow. "I was filling requisitions forms out for coffee filters and paper towels."

Commander Rabb narrows his eyes at me, as if I would lie about something so stupid. He shuffles the files around in his arms and redistributes them so they are balanced better. "I could see how those would be important enough to come in here late and finish up. Are you all right, Harriet?"

"I . . . I'm-m f-fine, sir," I stutter unintentionally. Then I sniffle. I didn't mean to. I told myself I wasn't going to cry over this once I got out of the car.

I've known Commander Rabb for many years and I know he's not the type who automatically knows how to deal with a woman who starts to cry. Not like Bud. The Admiral is pretty good, too. He always seems to know the right thing to say. At first I was afraid of him, but we've come to understand each other. But with Commander Rabb, any sign of emotion and his eyes start to do . . . exactly what they are doing right now. He's looking for an escape. Looking to see if someone else is here. He is looking for an out.

"Harriet . . ." he says, as the first tear drop falls down my cheek. But he's still looking for an out. I'm so mad at Bud I could scream and I have no one to talk to but this  . . . shallow flyboy . . .

"Excuse me, sir!" I say as I jump up, brushing past him and running toward the women's room.

*************

I didn't even bother with the lights. I just feel like sitting in the dark. Alone in the dark. I sit up on the vanity next to the sinks, resting my head on the wall and watching the emergency light flicker on and off. I should really tell Tiner to check into that. Or maybe the Gunny. Or maybe they could fight over which one of them is in charge of the women's bathroom.

I should be able to hear Commander Rabb go down the elevator from here and then I'll know it will be safe to go back out there. Safe for him, that is. He won't have to deal with my mood swings. Won't feel obligated to listen to me. Not that anybody else feels obligated, either. Bud and his big plans without me.

Shuffling around a little, I let out a sigh. Hopefully, the Commander won't be here all night. He usually goes home sooner or later. Of course, that pile of folders in his arms was awfully big and he hasn't been back for that long.

I'm playing with the faucet, turning the water on and off, when I hear a light tapping on the door.

"Come in," I say, shutting off the water and folding my hands neatly on my lap. Commander Rabb steps into the bathroom and I watch him as his eyes adjust to the lack of light. "You can turn on the lights, sir."

"It's fine like this if that is what you want. Are you okay?" he asks, holding the door open. Holding on to his means of escape. He looks around as if he's never seen a women's restroom before.

"I'm fine, sir," I say, looking at him before looking down at the tile floor.

I can almost hear his eyes shift. I bet he spent the last half hour trying to find someone else in the building to come talk to me. I'm sure he was hoping Bud would show up to collect his scatterbrained wife. Or that Colonel MacKenzie was hanging around somewhere and we could engage in some 'girl talk.' Or that Tiner would still be here to come tell me some tale about one of his siblings or that the Gunny would come bring me something to dry my tears and console me with some horrible joke.

Instead, he got stuck checking on me. He lets the door shut with him still on the inside. He sighs nervously.

"Really, sir. I'm fine. If you've got work to do, I don't want to keep you from it," I say as I tap my heels on the cabinet below me. I'm still mad. Very mad.

"Harriet, if something is bothering you, you can tell me about it. You have before. I . . . I'm here to, um. I'll listen," he says, his voice sounding soft and sympathetic.

I don't say anything for a few seconds, not wanting to burble it all out like a school girl. I've done that to the Commander before and I'd like to think I'm a little more mature now. But I'm just so mad.

"I just don't know why Bud has to go and do these things, sir. I don't know why he's forgotten about me. I don't know why he doesn't want to make love to me anymore!" I blurt out without thinking. I hear Commander Rabb take a step backwards on the tile floor. I look up and from what I can see of his face, his eyes have grown wide.

"What happened, Harriet?" he asks, with the patience and skill of a trial lawyer who's heard it all. I can tell it is taking every ounce of control he's got not to bolt out that door.

"I-I m-made big plans for tonight. Instead of spending the night alone with me, Bud decided to go to a 'Daddy and Me' group with AJ," I say, my voice cracking and a tear falling down my cheek. Commander Rabb walks into one of the stalls and I hear him unroll some toilet paper. He comes back and hands me a big ball of the tissue so I can dry my eyes.

"I'm sure if you talk to him . . ."

"That's not the worst of it, sir," I say, interrupting him as he begins to pander to whatever he thinks I want to hear. This is the thing that has been bugging me all night. The one thing I can't get past. "W-when he ran into some old friends of his, he introduced me as AJ's Mommy. He didn't even use my name!"

Now my tears start to flow. Commander Rabb stands a few feet away from me, shuffling around but not knowing what to do. I wipe my eyes with the bunched up toilet paper.

"Harriet, I'm sure he didn't . . ."

"You don't have to defend him, sir!" I say, mad at all men now. They are all the same. Insensitive jerks! "Ever since I had the baby, he hasn't been interested in me. I must not be as attractive or something. Or maybe he was scarred emotionally from watching me give birth. Am I no longer attractive, sir? You were there. Would you be scarred?"

I watch as he takes a step toward me, cupping my chin in his hand and tipping my head up.

"Harriet, you are still as attractive as you were the day . . . Bud met you. I don't think I'm scarred, so I'm sure Bud isn't scarred. And I'm sure he's interested," he says, his eyes meeting mine.

"He doesn't act like it, sir," I say, watching those eyes. Watching that face. "He just doesn't act interested."

"Well, he should be," Commander Rabb says. And that's the last thing he says before his lips meet mine. We've kissed before. A receiving line, post-wedding kiss. My wedding. This most certainly isn't like that.

What am I doing? What is he doing? I should stop it. Or he should stop it. Every fiber in my body is screaming for me to stop it, but I don't. I don't think I really want to. Instead, I open up my lips and allow him to kiss me deeper. His tongue sweeps past my lips and a jolt of warm heat flows through my body as it makes contact with mine.

Maybe this is the only way he knows how to deal with emotional women. Kiss them and they will shut up. Actually, it isn't such a bad idea. He is . . . a really good kisser. I find myself leaning toward him as my hands are going up to his chest and I just don't have any control over them.

His jacket is long gone since it is after-hours, and my God, his muscles are so well defined. Not like that flabby little husband of mine. I just have to feel his abs . . . just have to. It has been so long since I've felt nice, firm abs. I slide his tie over and run my hands across his stomach.

Oh goodness. Bud has got to start using that Tae Bo video my mom sent him for his birthday. And tomorrow morning, he's going to start jogging. Yes. Miles and miles of jogging. Commander Rabb finally breaks the kiss and looks down at my hands. I'm sort of undoing the buttons of his starched white shirt. One by one, they are just sliding through the button holes. Right up until the knot in his tie keeps me from going any farther.

"Harriet, I'm sorry . . . that was very unprofessional . . . beyond unprofessional and, um, I'd understand if you feel you have to . . . " he says, or tries to say as my hand tugs his shirt out of his pants and undoes the final buttons down there, too.

"Sir, am I complaining?" I ask. Really, I just want to look. Maybe feel. Nothing more. I've been married too long and I haven't even been married that long. What am I going to do in another ten years? Jump young, enlisted men as they come off the elevator and drag them out of their sailor suits?

"Actually, no . . . no, you aren't complaining," Commander Rabb says and I try to convince myself that I can refer to this man I'm undressing as Harm at least in my head. I pull his undershirt out of the waistband of his pants and my hands slink underneath it, feeling the warmth of his skin.

He is rock hard. Oops. Let me clarify that. Commander Rabb's . . . Harm's abs are firm. I'm sure he's mature enough not to get an erection from some silly part time housewife feeling him up in a bathroom. His muscles involuntarily quiver as my hands slide over them and I smile. Men. They are just like one big involuntary muscle. Starting with their brains.

Our breathing is heavy and shallow and it echoes loudly around this tiled room. He moves closer to me, slipping in between my knees, edging my skirt up my legs. I find that I don't just want to feel his abs. I want to feel just a little bit more. Commander . . . Harm has a nice backside. One little feel. Then I'll quit. I mean, I'm not as mad anymore. Oh, this has nothing to do with . . .

Wow. Not bad. Not bad at all. He tips my face up to his and we kiss again, this time it is softer than the first. My hands move back to his chest, enjoying how he feels under my touch.

"I wouldn't miss a night alone with you," he whispers as he breaks our kiss, his fingers beginning to unbutton my jacket.

"Thank you, sir. That is very sweet of you to say," I say, finding myself as fascinated by his hands undressing me as he was by mine. It has been a very long time since a man has undressed me. Bud and I are usually in bed and I'm in my pajamas when we do anything. He never thinks to undress me or seduce me. We just kind of . . . do it. And that hasn't been recently. He's too busy with the baby. I find myself laughing and Comm . . . Harm stops.

"Did I do something wrong . . . I mean wrong outside of the realm of how wrong this already is?" he asks, sliding my jacket off my shoulders.

"Oh, no, sir. Not, you, sir," I say, and he gets the little tie from around my neck off in a matter of seconds. My skirt has moved up even farther and he's come even closer. So close. Everything is so warm in here now and I swear something is burning between my thighs.

He goes through each button one by one, his long fingers moving slowly. I try to remember if I put on a decent bra or whether they were all in the laundry. Maybe I had to grab one of my dingy, old nursing bras off the heap of clean clothes that needs to be folded and put away. No, no . . . I was going out. I have on a nice one. One of those kind of sexy push-up ones. I'd hate to have to explain that whole front flap thing right now.

Pushing my shirt aside, Co . . . Harm looks me in the eye and then looks down at my breasts. They are a lot rounder than they were when I first met . . . first met everybody. That's the one good thing babies do to the body. The stretch marks are a whole other matter. He traces a finger across the top of the satiny material down to the front clip. He unsnaps it easily and I kind of pop out of the whole thing as my bra ricochets to the side. Not very sexy at all.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir!" I say and he laughs a low and way too wonderful laugh as he cups my breasts in his hands. I lean back against the mirror and shut my eyes, just enjoying the feel of his hands and fingers and they caress my nipples. Enjoying the physical feel, but my mind still knows this just . . .

He dips his head down and I feel his tongue replace one of his hands, lapping around my hardened nipple just once. I let out a soft sigh as he latches on, but he backs away before he does anything.

"Harriet, with the baby . . . you, um . . . don't . . ."

"Leak, sir? No, this old milk cow has been dried up for quite a while," I say, gnashing my teeth at one of my fonder memories of Bud calling me Bessie.

"I just didn't want to be surprised . . . anymore than . . . I've already been," he says, and I pull his face back down to my breasts to quiet him. His tongue circles perfectly and a flood of warm heat melts right down to my core. It feels so wonderful. So naughty. So not me. I slide forward off the counter a little, my legs wrapping around him more. He edges toward me, sliding my skirt up so it barely covering my thighs. He's quite nimble.

He moves from one breast to the other and he does something that tickles a little. I can't help it. I have to giggle. I don't want to. I'm sure he thinks I'm the giggling type as it is. I'm sure he thinks fooling around with me would be all giggling and no soft, sexy moaning. Well, maybe he's wrong.

Leaning back more, his tongue continues to lavish attention on me. Maybe Harm would be surprised to see that I know what to do back. I didn't end up with a baby by accident, no matter how giggly he thinks I might be. Pulling his face up to mine, we kiss again, a tangle of tongues seeking something. I'm not really sure what. I doubt we are going to find it here. Not the shallow flyboy and the girlish 'mommy.' But this . . . isn't bad.

I lied. I really want to feel one more thing. Yes, his chest and abs are nice. And his . . . six, as he would call it, that was great. But there's just one more thing. Just a little touch. Nothing more . . .

I lean forward and my hand goes to the front of his pants. That ends our kiss immediately. He makes a soft moaning sound as I stroke him through the fabric, not stopping until he's erect. Leaning into my hand, I know he wants more. At least someone does. I fumble around a little with his belt buckle before I finally get it. Yes, my hands are shaking a little. Why wouldn't they be? I'm about to . . .

"Harriet . . . " he says so softly.

"Sir, this would be easier if you didn't say anything," I say, placing a finger over his lips. He kisses it before I go back to unfastening his pants, slowly easing the zipper down over his erect penis. My heart is beating so hard I can feel it right down to my fingertips. He must be able to hear it pounding in my chest. Then again, judging by the way he keeps swallowing the way he does, I bet his heart is pounding just as fast and hard.

His pants drop to somewhere and I swallow hard, too. Looking at what I want to see as I tug his boxer shorts down, his erection springs free from the cotton fabric. I swallow even harder. I've seen my share of penises in my lifetime. We weren't called the Trojans where I went to high school for nothing. I've just never seen a flyboy's penis. Or at least not this flyboy's. I isn't too big but it isn't too small, either. It's just right. God, I sound like Goldilocks.

I wrap my fingers around it, enjoying the feel of something so familiar yet so different. He thrusts up into my hand in careful, rhythmic strokes as my thumb brushes across the tip. I'm torn between watching his face and eyes as I do this to him and watching what I'm doing. His face is actually the better show as his mouth hangs open with pleasure. Then again, I can see any dopey old guy look like that. I look back down to his penis, which is attached to that wonderful body. That I don't always get to see.

Fluid begins to form at the tip of his penis and he begins to thrust into my hand harder. Does the Commander really think I'm just going to give him a hand job and not get anything in return?  He's such a 'guy.' I can tell by the way he's moaning that he's about to come all over the place, so I press into that little spot that brings his little party to an end for a bit.

"Sorry," he says with that slow flyboy grin of his. I let my shoes drop to the tile floor with a clatter, inviting him to take the rest of it off. He hikes my skirt up to my waist and I boost myself up as he does away with my very unattractive control top pantyhose. Well, some concessions must be made for motherhood. Bigger breasts but a softer tummy. Good thing we are in the dark. Don't want to scare him with those stretch marks.

His fingers trace a gentle line down my stomach down to the top of my panties. "A little different from the last time I saw . . . everything," he says and I cringe a little at the memory. Everybody and I mean everybody saw me sprawled out on the office floor. Even poor Tiner got the show of his life. Passed out like a girl.

"Different better, I hope, sir."

"Harriet, you are just fine," he says, as he tugs my panties down and tosses them with my pantyhose.

"Fine, sir?" I say, my voice rising a few pitches. He slides my hips forward on the vanity a little bit more and his fingers delve into my wet folds without any thought. I almost forget about the 'fine' thing.

"Better than fine, Harriet. You are beautiful and you know it, now stop thinking about what is happening and just . . . let it happen," he says, asking the impossible. But I find myself grinding into his hand, willing for him to press a little harder. "Tell me what you want. This is just once . . . can't ever happen again . . . tell me what you would like."

My God. I've walked out of motherhood and into some bad romance novel. The office stud chased me into the bathroom and is going to do me right and make me forget it all. I find myself suppressing a giggle and instead I push him down to his knees and put my legs over his shoulders. If he's going to do me right, he might as well start there. Bud never wants to anymore.

He shifts around a little and I feel a jolt of pure hot electricity course through my body as his tongue slowly moves up my folds and then makes contact with my clitoris. My fingers grip onto the edge of the counter, as I try to keep from sliding off and ending up a puddle of nothing in front of him. Let him explain that one to everybody.

I can't help myself. I lock my ankles behind him and pull his face in closer. His mouth and lips work well at other things besides charming smiles. Really well. Jeesh. I am so wet and aroused and I feel like something is being wound up inside of me and it is going to spring loose at any second.

He slides one finger and then another slowly inside of me, as if he's testing the waters for roominess or something. That's funny. I moved a whole human out of there and now he's worried about his flyboy penis?

Harm begins to thrust his fingers gently in and out, matching the rhythm of his mouth. I'm going to melt. I know it. All he does is grind a little harder with his mouth and it is perfect. All my muscles begin to pulse and quake as I begin to soar to somewhere else. I trap his head between my thighs and he doesn't stop what he's doing. No, he drags it every last quiver out of me as I moan for all I'm worth.

Before I can even come back down from that high, he pulls me off the counter and turns me around. My hands smack the mirror and we watch each other in the reflection. It is easier this way, watching each other but yet not watching, as the emergency light flickers on and off. We can only catch quick glimpses of each other's eyes but it is enough.

He holds on to my hips and strokes my sex with the smooth tip of his penis. My eyes flutter open and shut but his don't. Harm never stops looking at me. At my reflection. Finally, I open my eyes again and I nod, giving him my permission to do the final thing we shouldn't be doing. He slides in, my center taking all of him in easily, and his hands move up to my waist. He moves his hips around in slow, grinding circles, not just pounding in and out of me.

I feel him move a hand away from my waist, down between my thighs to my clitoris. Oh . . .this is so good. His finger circles and circles, and that pleasant pressure begins to build up again in my core. He begins to pick up the pace of his thrusts and I have to press hard against the mirror not to be slammed into the counter top. The harder I press back into him, the harder he pounds into me.

All the while, our mirror-eyes never part. It is real, yet at the same time, it isn't. It can't be. But, oh God, it is. I can feel him in me, my muscles burning from the pressure of him thrusting in and out. The pressure of my next orgasm starting to come from somewhere unexpected.

"Harriet, is it okay . . . safe, I mean. . . if I?" he tries to ask and I wait until the light blinks again to answer. He looks desperate and I wonder what he would do at this point if I said no.

"It's okay, sir. We aren't planning on having anymore for a while," I say, and he stops thrusting briefly but his fingers still work their magic on me. I want to keep my eyes open. Want to watch as we both fall together, but it is getting hard.

"Are you close, Harriet, because I don't know if I can hold off much longer," he says, his voice raspy and desperate. Just the sound of it is enough to tip the balance and I feel myself trembling again, my inner muscles holding tightly on to him.

"Is that close enough, sir?" I ask, and he just smiles and thrusts into me one more time, hard and fast and I know from the sound he's making that is enough. I close my eyes as I feel the wet flood fill me . . . I keep my eyes closd and feel him hold on to me tight. . . I hear someone crying out my name and then everything slips into blackness . . .

**********

"Harriet!" Bud calls out as he swings the bathroom door open. I grab on to the edge of the counter and try not to fall. Commander Rabb follows in behind him and all of a sudden the images in my head cannot be reconciled with what is going on around me.

I look down at myself, all buttoned up like I should be. The room is still dark and the Commander flips on the light and stands there with his hands on his hips. What in the heck just happened? It had to have happened. Didn't it? Was I asleep and dreaming? Oh my God . . .

"I paged Bud and told him you were upset and that he should come talk to you. I hope that's okay," Commander Rabb says with a nervous flicker of a smile.

Bud shifts Baby AJ from one arm to the other as he looks at me. "Why didn't you just tell me how much this upset you? Honey, I could have just started going next week. You just need to tell me these things . . ."

I know he goes on and on and says some more things, but I'm too busy looking around the room to hear him. Looking for affirmation that all those things in my head did happen. Or maybe I'm looking for the proof they didn't. That seems to be the general direction the proof is heading right now. Commander Rabb is acting normal . . . for Commander Rabb. He is smiling that easy smile of his and is looking from me to Bud. He is waving at my baby and my baby is waving back.

"Harriet, sweetie, are you ready to go home?" Bud implores. I look at him and then at Commander Rabb.

"Hey, don't let me stop you kids. I'm stuck here all night," he says with his usual flyboy ease. No, he wouldn't be this comfortable if it had happened. He's smooth, but not that smooth. I've seen him crack just from Mac staring at him. This would have to break him.

"I'll be out in just a minute, okay?" I say to all of them and they do some sort of Three Stooges act on their way out the door with Bud asking Commander Rabb if he wants to hold the baby.

The emergency lights don't do anything. They certainly aren't flickering anymore. My clothes are all in place, right down to my shoes. I feel a slight 'buzz' throughout my body, but that could have just been the dream. Hmm. I should fall asleep in the women's room more often. Although the 'Commander Rabb' part of the dream is a teensy bit embarrassing the rest of it wasn't bad. I'll just wash my face up and get going.

I turn around and twist on the water faucet. And that's when I see them.

Two hand prints on the mirror. And they match mine perfectly.

*******

The End