By MoJo
The elevator doors open. I step out and look around.
This place is different than the other office. I'm still not 100% sure
I want to go through with it, but something compelled me to visit during
my layover. It's been almost four years since I transferred out of JAG
to return to Computer Weapons, to a life that suited me better than running
all around the country as Harmon Rabb's sidekick. He got a new partner
right away, Major Sarah MacKenzie somebody or other. I hope she didn't
make the same mistake I did in falling in love with her partner.
It was either that slow fly-boy smile or the gold wings. I never could
decide which.
It's late afternoon on a Friday, practically the weekend. Almost five
o'clock, actually. I'm not sure if anyone is still here. The bullpen looks
empty. The office doors are closed with the lights off.
"Excuse me," says a deep voice. "Can I help you, ma'am?"
I turn around to find a Marine standing at attention behind me. And
for a second, I completely forget why I'm here.
He's handsome. *Really* handsome. His dark eyes look me up and down
before settling on my face. He's like the men back home in Texas. The men
on the ranches. Rugged men. His uniform tells me he's a Gunnery Sergeant
Galindez. Hispanic. That explains the rich, dark complexion and jet black
hair.
"Can I help you, ma'am?" he asks again, a tiny smile on the corner of
his lips.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I say, adjusting my purse strap up on my shoulder.
I'm in civilian clothes today. I think hard on why I'm here. I hold my
hand out to him. "I'm Commander Meg Austin."
He relaxes his posture and pulls one hand from behind his back and wraps
it around mine. Despite his strong, supple fingers, his touch is gentle.
"Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez."
I reluctantly pull my hand away from his, but I can still feel his warmth.
Those dark eyes are fixed on me as he awaits an explanation.
"I used to work with Commander Rabb and Admiral Chedwiggen," I begin,
tucking an errant strand of blonde hair behind my ear. He's still staring
at me. "Long time ago. I-I'm here tonight on layover and had some time
to kill so I thought I might stop by." I look around, avoiding that penetrating
gaze. "Are they here?"
"No, ma'am," Galindez says. He takes a step towards me. "Commander Rabb
is in Australia."
"Oh," I say, taking a step towards him. He smells good. *Really* good.
A combination of musk and sandalwood. "Admiral Chedwiggen?"
"No, ma'am," he repeats, taking another step closer and closing the
gap between us even more. "He's in Australia, too."
"I see," I say, folding my arms. My fingertips drum lightly over my
clavicles. I'm flushed. My skin feels warm to the touch. "How about Bud
Roberts? Is there a Bud Roberts here?"
"No, ma'am," Galindez says a third time, that smile growing a little
wider. He has the most amazing dimples.
"Let me guess," I say, leaning towards him. We are just about the same
height. "Australia?"
"Yes, ma'am," Galindez answers, with a nod.
I let my eyes drift over his uniform, buckled neatly across a flat stomach.
There is really no one else around except a young Petty Officer turning
off computers.
"I guess this was a bad idea," I say, exhaling slowly. It must be a
sign I don't really belong here. Galindez blinks at me, probably
waiting for me to leave. I should just go.
"I'm sorry to take up your time, Sergeant Galindez," I pronounce his
last name perfectly, with the proper emphasis on each syllable.
"Usted habla español, Comandante Austin?" he asks eagerly in
Spanish.
"Sí. Fluido. Crecí para arriba en Texas," I answer, smiling
at him.
"I'm from New Mexico," Galindez says, relaxing even more. "Albuquerque."
"Do you like it here in DC?" I inquire, curious to learn a little more.
I have no idea why it matters if he does or not. I just want to know.
"Yes, ma'am," he answers. "But it is different than the southwest, ma'am."
"I never got used to life away from the ranch. My family still lives
there. That's where I'm headed," I say, glancing at my watch. "In about
12 hours." "Ma'am?" Galindez asks, pressing his fingertips together. "If
I may speak freely."
"Meg," I correct, biting my lower lip. "You can speak freely if you
call me Meg."
"Yes, ma--Meg," Galindez says, looking a little shy at the lack of formality.
"I was wondering if you would like to have a drink. I know I am no substitute
for the Commander or the Admiral, but it seems a pretty lady such as yourself
should not be spending the night alone." No sooner are the words spoken
that he starts to blush at the implication. "Wait, I didn't mean--what
I meant to say was a pretty lady..."
"Shouldn't be drinking by herself," I say, rescuing him. He lets out
a sigh of relief.
"That is what I meant, ma--Meg," Galindez confirms, clasping his hands
behind his back. "I could update you on Commander Rabb, Admiral Chedwiggen
and Lieutenant Roberts, if you like."
"I would," I answer, feeling my heart rate elevating. "Thank you, Gunnery
Sergeant. That is very gentlemanly of you."
"Victor," he corrects his voice low and husky with just a trace of that
Spanish accent.
"Victor," I repeat, letting the 'r' roll off my tongue. "What time do
you get off work?"
"A half-hour ago," he smiles.
******************
2400 Zulu
"So Harm got his night vision back," I say, swallowing down the last
of my beer. Victor pours me another out of the pitcher we are sharing.
One drink turned into a pitcher and then we ordered a pizza. Not as good
as Texas pizza, but the company more than makes up for it.
"Last spring," Victor says. "He was actually stationed on the Patrick
Henry when I started on at JAG. Flying Tomcats."
A residual pang of emotion touches my heart at the knowledge that Harm
had the chance to fly again, even if was for a short amount of time. I
remembered how important it was to him. It must have made him happy.
It would have been nice to know. I sigh.
Harm never called me. He never wrote. He never bothered to find out
how I was or where I went. I guess after learning about his relationship
with Diane, there was a part of me that wanted him to correspond with me
the same way.
"What made him come back?" I ask, picking up another slice of pizza
and biting into the end.
"He said he was past his prime to be a combat pilot," Victor says, taking
a sip of his beer. I watch intently as swirls it around his mouth before
swallowing. "Decided to come back to the courtroom."
"He must have had personal reasons to come back as well," I surmise.
"I can't imagine him giving up flying just because of his age."
Victor opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I'm
right. I can see it in his dark eyes. "I don't know, ma'am. I mean, Meg."
"I don't want to talk about Harm anymore," I say, knowing I've spent
enough time of my life on that subject. I'm supposed to be living in the
present. And presently, I'm sitting across from one very handsome Gunnery
Sergeant. A polite and courteous one at that. There is just something about
that uniform. "How did you end up at JAG?"
"I was on terminal leave and ended up testifying in a case involving
a missile exercise that set fire to the woods near Quantico," Victor says,
picking the olives off his pizza and eating them separately. "When it was
over, Col. MacKenzie helped get me a job at JAG."
"Were you always a Marine?" I ask, captivated by the way his tongue
flickers out to caress the olive before devouring it slowly. He asked for
extra olives on the pizza. Now I'm glad he did.
"I was in the Corps, then I quit for a while to be a police officer,"
he confesses. Victor leans across the table and motions for me to do the
same. "I quit when I got shot in the...six."
"You got shot in the ass?" I ask, trying not to laugh. He is a little
embarrassed and looks around from side to side. "Are you making that up?"
"No, ma'am. I could show you my scar," Victor teases. One finger
reaches across and slides across the corner of my mouth. I swallow
hard. "Sorry, you had a little sauce right there."
"I did?" I ask, flustered by the contact. My tongue flickers out
to that spot, all the while under his watchful gaze. "Is it gone
now?"
"Almost," Victor says, touching me again. I doubt there is really
anything there, but I'm not about to stop him. He traces my bottom
lip before withdrawing. "Now it is."
"Thank you," I say, taking my napkin and wiping down my chin.
Things are awkward for the next few minutes. Victor folds his arms
on the table, almost as if he's refraining from touching me again.
"What is your story?" he asks thoughtfully. "Something must have
made you leave JAG."
He's direct, this Victor Galindez. He waits patiently while I try to
condense my complicated story into a few sentences. Funny how Harm
never bothered to asks me that same question. Would have saved me
a years of heartache if he had.
"I left for personal reasons," I begin, drumming my fingers lightly
on the table as I avoid his eyes. "There was this Commander, Krennik
was her name, and she made every attempt to keep me...how shall I say this...in
my place? I wanted to do so much more, but I never got past being
just some hyped-up Girl Friday."
"I can't imagine Commander Rabb would ever think of you as a hyped-up
Girl Friday," Victor says, his attention alternating between my hand on
the table and my face.
"He didn't," I say, quick to defend him. Still, after all this
time I feel the need to act as if we were something we weren't. "I just
left unexpectedly with no real...resolution."
"And you wanted to stop by tonight so you could...?" Victor's hand reaches
over and rests on mine, stopping my nervous tapping. He senses there is
more to my story, but does not press me any further.
"Let go," I say, the reason suddenly so clear. "I just wanted
to let go."
**************
2815 Zulu
Victor takes off his jacket and lays it neatly over a barstool.
Next, he strips his tie off and sets it on top, unbuttoning the top two
buttons. He rolls up his sleeves slowly. Peeking out of his
collar is a tiny cross pendant, its gold a bright contrast against his
tawny skin. Victor walks towards me and I clutch the edge of the
table I am backed against nervously. I take a deep breath and feel
my body shudder. Why am I nervous? It isn't like I haven't
done this before.
"Are you ready, Meg?" he asks softly.
"I think so," I reply, licking my parched lips.
"Good," Victor says, reaching around me to the long stick laying on
the table. He holds it out to me and I wrap my hand around it firmly.
Victor's thumb rubs along the length of it slowly before releasing it.
I bring my other hand up to the tip and I work the blue square in small
circles as Victor smiles. He's got such a wonderful smile.
He doesn't have to say another word all night. He can just keep smiling
like that.
"How's that?" I ask, holding the tip up for his inspection.
"Very nice," Victor answers, raising an eyebrow. "Would you like to
do mine?"
"I'd love to," I say, smiling as he reaches behind me again and slides
the other stick free. I repeat my careful preparation. "Did
you put the money in?"
"Not yet," he says, reaching in his pocket for some quarters.
He crouches down beside me and pushes them into the worn slots. Something
creaks and churns and the balls are finally released. Victor grabs
one of each and offers them to me. "Stripes or solids?"
"Solids," I say, taking the yellow ball from him. "I'll save the
stripes for the Marine."
"I'll rack 'em up," Victor says playfully. I watch as he sets
them up in the triangle and rolls them neatly into place.
"Where'd you learn to shoot pool?" I ask, trying not to let my eyes
linger over his backside as he leans over the green felt.
"Here and there," Victor replies, straightening back up into perfect
posture. "You know how the military life ships you around."
"Do I ever," I say, with a heavy sigh. I'd been everywhere over the
last four years.
"Sounds like you're ready for a break," Victor says, placing the white
ball the perfect distance. He gestures towards the table. "No
pun intended."
I smile. I can't figure out why he's being so nice to me.
He's a good listener, so much so that I'm almost ready to tell him the
real reason I left JAG.
"Ladies first," he adds, stepping out of my way. But not enough
because I have to brush past him in order to break. His body is firm
and solid underneath that khaki shirt.
"Thank you," I say, leaning over the table. I can feel Victor's
eyes on me, checking me out just like I was checking him out a couple minutes
ago. I let the pool cue slide in and out of my fingers as I prepare my
shot. With a flick of my wrist, I miss my shot and the ball sputters off
to the side. I sigh. That looked *really* bad, Meg. "Can
I try again?"
"Sure," Victor says patiently. His hands are wrapped around the
stick as he waits. Watching me once again as I lean over. Studying
my form.
Once again I try to break and once again I fail. I let my forehead
drop on the table and bury my face in my arms, laughing. I hear him
laughing too, but it stops as soon as I feel his hands on my waist.
"If I may, ma'am?" he asks, and I stand back up. Suddenly I am
leaning into Victor's body. I've told him countless times to stop
calling me "ma'am" but he keeps doing it anyway. Force of habit,
I guess. Or maybe he's just terminally polite. Either way,
it's still sexy when he says it. And respectful.
"If you may what?" I exhale. I can feel his breath on the back
of my neck and those strong hands on my shoulders. His thumbs rub
deep circles into my tight muscles.
"Show you what you're doing wrong," Victor says gently. His hands
drop to my upper arms and he massages me there. "You need to relax
first. You seem very tense."
"I suppose I am," I mutter, letting my eyes close and my head fall forward.
Victor's touch is so soothing and rhythmic that I can't help but feel almost...safe.
My lips part as I release the breath I was holding.
"Why are you so tense?" Victor asks, continuing to work his fingers
into my muscles. "Is visiting the Commander and the Admiral that
stressful for you?"
I let out a little gasp as he hits a sensitive knot. He pays extra
attention to it. "No. Not the Admiral. Just Harm...I
mean, Commander Rabb."
Here I am back to talking about Harm. I'm sure Victor doesn't
want to hear anymore about him. Probably hears enough working with
him day in and day out. He continues his ministrations and before I know
it, the words are tumbling out of my mouth. Unbidden.
"I couldn't work with him anymore. My feelings for Harm had...changed.
And his had not. He was in a relationship with this woman.
Her name was Diane and she was killed. After that, I just knew it
wasn't going to work out for us. Some things in life just weren't
meant to be. So I left," I say. Victor stops rubbing my shoulders
and I turn around to face him. I'm backed against the pool table and there
is no where for me to put my hands except on his chest. "I guess
at this point in my life its time to let him go once and for all.
By fate, I end up on this layover and I decide to tell him. And I
can't, because he's in Australia."
"What were you going to say to him?" Victor asks, lips pressed shut.
"You don't really want to hear this, do you?" I say, shaking my head.
Victor nods in counter balance.
"If you think it will help, ma'am," Victor replies, his strong hands
settling on my waist.
I let my fingers trace the collar of his shirt, across that tawny skin
to where the fabric meets at the third button. "I was going to tell
him..."
Victor raises an eyebrow. Waiting. His expression serious.
"Harm," I begin, sliding my arms up and around his neck for support.
I rest my forehead against Victor's so we are eye to eye, nose to nose.
Suddenly everything I'd been feeling over the last four years is summed
up in three little words.
"I'm over you."
**************
0100 Zulu
Harm...who? My mind wonders as Victor's tongue swirls against
mine. He escorted me to my hotel room and wished me a safe journey
to Texas. He kept his hands clasped behind his back the whole time,
obviously not wanting to take advantage of me. Another gentlemen
in uniform. I was all set to say good night, but then he smiled.
And I kissed him, soft at first. Just to test the waters, so to
speak. One kiss lead to another and here we are, making out in the dimly
lit hallway of a Holiday Inn. Maybe I just need reassurance that
I'm finally over Harm, I don't know. But it feels good to be held
and kissed, especially by someone as understanding as Victor Galindez seems
to be.
My back is against the door and Victor's body is pressed into the length
of mine. My fingers curiously pluck more buttons free so I can glide my
palms over his pectorals. We keep kissing and touching and exploring
until finally I make my decision. One hand digs into my hip pocket
for my key card. I pull my mouth away from his so I can swipe it.
Victor lets out a long sigh, bracing one hand on the threshold.
"Meg, you don't have to do this," Victor says, his voice husky from
our kisses. He nuzzles my ear a little, inhaling the smoky scent
of my hair. We both smell like the pool hall and beer and cigarettes.
All the things no one ever expects from sweet little Meg Austin.
I'm not anyone's Girl Friday anymore and I haven't been for a long time.
"Maybe I want to," I reply, as I push the door open and step inside.
The air is stale and stagnant. I turn around and see Victor still
standing in the threshold. "But I understand if you don't."
"Permission to speak freely?" Victor asks. He's half in and half
out of that uniform already. His jacket is in his car, his shirt
is unbuttoned nearly to the waist. My eyes drift up to his face and
I nod.
"Harmon Rabb is an fool for ever letting you slip away."
I close my eyes and wet my lower lip, letting his words sink deep and
settle.
"He never even bothered to look at you and see you for who you really
are," Victor continues. He stays where he is and so do I. I'm
standing in the light from the door with my arms folded around my body,
flushed and warm from our kisses.
"And who am I, Victor?" I breathe, curious to what this handsome stranger
sees. How can he know more about me than Harm ever did?
"You're a smart, beautiful, sexy and you shoot a crappy game of pool,"
Victor replies. "And if you weren't only here for tonight, I'd want
to learn more."
"How much do you want to learn?" I invite. Victor finally steps
inside and shuts the door. The room is dark, except for the pale
moonlight from behind the blinds.
"Whatever you're willing to show me," is his polite reply. "No more
and no less."
So it's up to me. My heart starts to pound in my chest as I reach
out for him. Within seconds, Victor Galindez in my arms again and
I know there is no turning back. Whoever I was up until this point
is not who I'll be when I leave here. What I was looking to resolve
with Harmon Rabb needs to be resolved from within myself.
"I'd like to show you what he never did," I whisper, right before I
kiss him again. Meg the free spirit. Meg the little girl.
Meg the playful. Meg the passionate. Meg the seductress. I
am so many things beneath the surface of my uniform.
Strong hands run up and down my back, kneading gently all those tense
spots once again. I finish unbuttoning his khaki shirt and pull it
free from his slacks. Victor sheds it off immediately and I work
on his white cotton tee, eager to feel his skin against mine. His
breathing is shallow as I lift it up and over his head, carelessly tossing
it aside. Oh my, he is *so* firm and solid. My hands skim all
over his torso, his nipples, his abs. Just...everything.
"May I?" Victor asks, tugging at the hemline of my shirt. I nod
and raise my arms above my head. I feel the fabric slide up and off
my body, the air chilling me slightly and hardening my nipples even more.
He lowers his fingers to the front clasp of my bra and stops. "May
I?"
"Yes," I whisper, feeling it snap and release. He pushes the straps
off my shoulders and down my arms. Victor pulls me into his strong
embrace and I gasp as my naked flesh meets his. It is like electricity
and it jolts all of my senses.
"You are so soft," Victor murmurs between kisses. I snake my arms
around his neck and run my hands through his cropped hair, enjoying its
tactile quality. My skin is so light against his. Like cream
into coffee, dissolving into one another with ease.
"You're so...solid," I say, my wandering hands exploring the expanse
of his back. I smile. "Push-ups?"
"Yes ma'am," Victor confirms, cupping each of my breasts and squeezing
them. "300 every day."
"Does a body good," I surmise, lowering my mouth to his chin and working
my way to his neck and clavicles. He tastes salty against my tongue
and so unmistakably male. My mouth finds one dark nipple and I lick
lazy circles around it, making Victor moan. His hands tousle my hair
and it makes me feel wild and free.
I work my way over to the other side and repeat it, all the while becoming
aware of the hardness settling in his groin. I unbuckle his belt
and unlatch his fly. Victor tenses a bit as I slip one hand inside
and feel his erection. He lets out a throaty laugh and he shudders
as I stroke him through his white cotton boxers. There is just something
so satisfying about knowing I have this effect on him.
I sigh deeply and pull myself away, walking backwards towards the bed.
Victor follows, stopping only to remove his shoes. They land with
two thuds and I wriggle my feet out of my leather oxfords. I ease
back onto the bed, knees dangling off the side and prop myself up on my
elbows. Victor drops to his knees and starts unbuttoning my fly, letting
each metal grommet pop free. He takes hold of my jeans and tugs them
down my legs with a solid yank. Once free, Victor crawls over me,
parting my knees with his.
My body molds to his and his erection is pressing up into my center.
His lips explore my breasts and my stomach, his tongue flickering out here
and there. I arch my back against his mouth, eager for it to descend
lower. My hands gently coax his head in that direction and without a word,
Victor understands. He removes my panties and readjusts me so I scoot
higher up on the mattress. His hand traces a line from my navel to
my folds, listening carefully to my moans until he hits just the right
spot.
"Here?" he murmurs, wanting confirmation. I am aching everywhere,
but the feeling is concentrated underneath his fingers.
"There," I manage to breathe and I let out a little cry as his lips
kiss me *there.* My thighs wrap around his head as he swirls his
tongue around my swollen nub. My nerves are on fire and my eyes roll
back in my head. This...this is good. I writhe and twist against
his mouth, creating just enough friction to start the thrumming.
"Yes, yes, yes," I hear myself say and Victor applies more suction and
more pressure. I squeeze my eyes shut as the orgasm takes over.
My hips rise up a bit and he slides his hands underneath my buttocks, letting
me ride it out.
Victor rolls off momentarily and I hear a rustle of fabric. Through
the haze, I look over and see him taking out his wallet. He smiles
shyly as he removes a condom.
"Always prepared?" I ask quietly between pants.
"Always," Victor replies, setting it to the side. I help him out
of his pants and boxers, rolling and tumbling over his body with ease.
After I discard his boxers, I roll Victor over on his stomach and check
out his "scar." Sure enough, there's a gunshot wound on his
right cheek. I let my lips brush over it and I feel him shudder.
"You weren't lying, were you Marine?" I say playfully, wrestling him
on his back.
"No ma'am," Victor says, reaching back for the condom. "Was pretty
damn embarrassing. Couldn't sit down for two weeks."
I don't mean to laugh, but I do. It helps diffuse the awkwardness
as Victor tears open the little sheath and rolls it down his thick cock.
I let my hand drift up and down his chest and stomach until he's finished.
I swing one leg over his hips and straddle him, easing my sex up and down
his length, but not taking him in just yet. Victor brings one hand
behind my head and dips me down for a kiss. I taste myself on his
lips and tongue and it excites me. I keep rocking and rubbing against
him until he's slick with my wetness. Victor's hands steady my hips
and he presses his head against my opening. I gasp slightly and hope
I can accommodate his length. It has been a while and I know I'm tight.
This might be easier if gravity was working to our advantage.
I sink back down into his arms and encourage him to roll me over onto my
back. We shift and I wrap by legs around his waist. I sigh.
That's better. Victor braces himself above me, almost in push-up
position as he lowers himself into me. My mouth falls open and a
soft groan escapes as he slowly eases inside. My skins slips and
stretches around him and finally I relax so Victor can go all the way.
"Meg," he whispers, before starting to thrust. I look up at him,
my nails digging into his biceps for support. "You are beautiful."
My eyes flutter close as he moves in and out of my body. Slow
at first, then faster as soon as I relax more. The pressure is amazing
and he slams into me harder. In. Out. In. Out.
And I try to meet each thrust with one of my own. I clench my muscles
around his cock and once again, I'm rising and rising to that place where
only release can set you free. The tension builds until that inevitable
moment. My nails cut into his skin and I cry out when I come.
Everything falls away in a spiral of pleasure. Each subsequent pulse a
little stronger than the last until the world closes in on me, just to
be reopened with a new sense of clarity.
Victor's hips jerk one final time and he groans loudly, shuddering hard.
He's sunk deep and I feel him pulsing as well. He withdraws almost
immediately, readjusting so he can lay back against me without certain
things getting in the way. I hold onto him tightly, his cheek against
my breast and his arms around my waist. I rest my cheek on the top
of his head for a few minutes while we catch our breaths.
Victor's holds me just a little tighter before rising up again.
He gazes down at me, his eyes wandering over my face.
"How do you feel?" he asks quietly, after a moment of contemplation.
"Like I've finally let go," I say, stretching luxuriously. Any
last bit of tension escapes my body and I am free.
The End
2245 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
Maritime Bar and Grill
Falls Church, Virginia
Smoky Joe's
Falls Church, Virginia
Holiday Inn
Falls Church, Virginia