by Gray Gardner
Connor sighed and rolled his eyes as he watched. What was with her? She was like a completely different person when she was kicking his ass. A different confident person. Now she was just a mess.
“Are you really this clumsy?” he asked, watching as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“No sir, just when I’m nervous.”
“Why are you nervous?”
She looked over at the doctor, who was writing something down on a chart, then back at the Captain. “W-well, I kind of kicked your ass.”
“Ha!” the doctor blurted, laughing and shaking his head as Connor stared down at her in disbelief. He was trying his hardest not to laugh, too. She had to be the funniest girl he’d ever met—in both senses of the word.
“All right, Burton the Ball Buster,” Captain Connor snickered, standing up and taking her shoulder. “Let’s go get some chow and then meet everyone else. We obviously have a lot of work to do.”
He held her shoulder and squeezed as they walked out of the Infirmary and into the sunlight. She winced as he continued to squeeze the entire way. He was angry, she knew that. But what was he going to do to her?
He sat at the officer’s table and gave her a lunch order. She was his personal slave, that was it. She brought him a tray and he must have sent her back a dozen times before he had everything he needed to eat his lunch. He winced at every bite which made her feel terrible. She wished he’d just yell at her and make her run twelve laps like he always did. She felt like it always squared things up between them.
“Aren’t you going to eat, private?” he asked, as she leaned back against the wall next to him, waiting obediently. Repentantly.
“Yes sir. That’s my peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” she said, pointing at his tray.
“Well, by all means then,” he sarcastically said, offering her the seat between him and some other officers. They all paused as she sat and began eating her sandwich. Connor looked at her incredulously as she ate like she’d eaten with the officers every day.
So fascinating and enigmatic. He caught himself wondering what she was like off the base. Did she have a boyfriend? He frowned at the thought which made his stitches ache. Christ. She was so in his head.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” the guy across from them chuckled after Connor explained the gauze on his face to the curious officers. “Connor, you’re telling me that you, the undefeated champ of all fights on the base legitimate or not, were beaten up by Strawberry Shortcake here?”
“That’s what I’m telling you,” Connor grinned. “Never underestimate the size of your enemy. That’s what I learned today. What about you, Burton?”
They all turned to her and she paused and set her sandwich down. She didn’t know why Connor was teasing her, making her get his lunch one little item at a time, only to invite her to sit down with him and his fellow officers. She just needed to get on his good side, and that was it.
“Um, uh, never overestimate the size of your enemy, either?” she said, with no confidence.
“She’s got me there,” he smiled, as everyone shook their heads and didn’t know whether to burst out laughing or shake her hand. He sighed and threw his napkin on his plate, then glanced down at her half-eaten sandwich. “Finish up and let’s go. Everyone’s waiting for their psych evaluations.”
“I’m done,” she said, standing up.
“You only ate half of your sandwich.”
“No time, let’s go, sir!” she said, as he held her arm.
He jerked her back down to her seat and continued holding onto her.
“Is this why you look like this? Your clothes hanging off of your body? You eat half a meal?” he asked, giving her a serious look.
“I’m full.”
“Answer me.”
“I—”
“Answer me!” he ordered in a loud voice. To his surprise the once confident girl sitting next to him suddenly closed her eyes tightly and turned her head down.
“Uh.”
“Burton!”
“What?” she asked, still not looking at him. This was not the kind of attention she wanted from him. She just wanted to get moving to their next activity.
“I asked you if you only eat half a meal during chow time,” he loudly stated, waving the peanut butter sandwich around and growing angrier. “And is this why you look like a knobby-kneed pubescent teenager in the ROTC?”
“I look like that because you have me running twelve laps every day,” she replied, turning an icy glare up to him. So that’s what he thought of her? She just looked like some dumb, awkward kid to him? She frowned. It hurt her more than it should have.
Everyone at the table stared as the pair fought like old friends, not like a private and commanding officer.
“All right then, if you aren’t going to follow an order, go take twelve laps. Shit,” he snapped, turning his head. She had him on that one. Christ, she knew how to push all of his buttons. “Fine, eat the rest of that. Your punishment is to eat the rest of your sandwich.”
“My punishment for not eating all of my sandwich is to eat all of my sandwich?” she asked, the frown turning into frustration.
Connor felt like he was losing it. He quickly stood up and yanked her to her feet.
“Yes, all right? Eat your food!”
“Okay, but it’ll make me throw up,” she said, scrambling behind him as he pulled her outside. She was already feeling sick to her stomach for sending him to the Infirmary.
“Did I hear a ‘yes sir’ anywhere in there?” he asked through his teeth, marching towards his jeep so that they could go to the medical center.
She forced another bite as she jogged beside his long strides.
“Okay, yes sir, but I’m going to throw up.”
“Just eat it!” he ordered, climbing into the passenger side of the open top jeep. He was about to lose his mind. She climbed into the back seat and ate the last bite, brushing her hands together and waiting. He turned and looked at her. “What in the hell are you doing?”
“Waiting for our driver.”
“This isn’t a chauffeur school, Burton! Now get up here and drive me to the medical center!”
“But I can’t drive a stick.”
“Burton!” Connor yelled, closing his eyes and holding out his hands in anger. “The next time you do not directly follow one of my orders I am going to pick you up over my head and throw you across the room. Is that clear?”
She cleared her throat and slid to the front, clicking her seatbelt and starting the jeep. Captain Crunch was now making threats.
“Burton!”
“Yes sir.”
The gears were grinding as they sputtered across the base. She eventually mastered first gear, but she never could seem to find second. They jerked along the road as Connor popped a pain pill and adjusted his bandage. She almost made it into second gear at that point. Almost. The car suddenly stalled and Captain Connor’s head slammed onto the dash board.
“Mother fucker!” he shouted, leaning his head back and holding his face. The day couldn’t possibly get any worse. Seriously.
“You should have been wearing your seatbelt,” Burton stated, glancing over at him and noticing the blood coming out between his fingers. “Captain!” she panicked, trying to jump over to him but realizing she was restrained by her seatbelt. She released it and jumped onto his lap, trying to pry his hands away from his face.
“Private Burton,” he muttered, trying to hold his nose and get her off of him at the same time. It had surprised him, yet again, that she was so worried about him, but what was even more surprising was that she was now on his lap. And he didn’t exactly hate it.
“Just let me see it, sir,” she demanded, placing her knees on either side of him and sitting up so that she was above his head. “Just move your hands for one second.”
“Burton, get off of me,” he ordered in a shaky voice, moving a hand away from his nose and placing it on her waist. This could not have looked
very good to anyone passing by. He was a captain, and his female private was straddling him in his jeep. And his cock was starting to enjoy it a little too much.
“Just let me look at it for one second and I will, you big baby!”
“You know,” he sighed, finally complying and moving his other hand down to her waist as she fussed over him. “I could have you court martialed and locked up for the number of times you have disrespected me, assaulted me, and refused to call me ‘sir’ today!”
“You’re just cranky because I split your face open… sir,” she grinned, ripping the bandage off.
“Ah!” he winced, holding his head as she leaned back and pulled a first aid kit out of the glove compartment.
“Just sit still for one more second,” she softly said, slowly taping a new bandage over the cut. She could at least fix up his face before he killed her. “You just popped one stitch. Not even worth going back to the Doc.”
He continued to hold onto her waist as he stared straight ahead at her chest. As small as she was, she had to be about a B cup. Good God, he had to stop looking at her chest. All he had to do was lean his head forward just a little and he could wrap his lips around…
“Captain!” a deep male voice bellowed.
He jerked his head to the right and fell out of the jeep, taking Burton with him to the soft grass on the side of the road. They both untangled themselves from each other and stood up as quickly as they could, saluting and trying to catch their breaths.
“Captain Connor? Imagine if you will, my complete and utter surprise as I glance out of my window on a beautiful sunny day to survey my base only to find one of my female privates mounting you in your jeep.”
“Major Taylor, sir,” Captain Connor began, holding up his hands and shaking his head.
“Yes yes,” he interrupted, frowning as he looked at the white bandage on the captain’s face. “It’s not what I think.”
“Exactly, sir.”
“Well,” the Major shrugged, crossing his arms. “I know the mountee. Now who is the mounter?”
Silence ensued until Connor rolled his eyes and nudged the small girl forward.
“Oh, uh, P-Private Burton, sir,” she said, stepping back into line with the captain. Holy shit, it was the Major. And he’d come upon her straddling her captain. Could the day get any worse?
“Baylor Burton?” Major Taylor asked, glancing back at Connor. “This is Baylor Burton.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The Baylor Burton you’ve been telling me about.”
She tried to inconspicuously turn her glance towards Connor. He was telling the Major about her? Not a very good sign. She supposed she should just pack her bags.
“Yes, sir,” Connor replied with a nod. He’d been regaling the entire base with stories about her, mostly because whatever happened when she was around was unexpectedly hilarious. Nothing about her was boring in the least and it made for great scoop at the Officer’s Club.
Major Taylor rubbed the back of his head as he stepped back and checked out Private Burton.
“Well, I have to tell you, Captain. The way you described her and the things she’s accomplished, I expected her to be a little bit bigger.”
“For God’s sake, Major, don’t judge her by her size, sir,” he sighed, pointing to his nose.
Burton held her breath. Connor had been telling the Major good things about her? Something didn’t add up. And why did a warmth spread through her at the thought of him talking about her? Complimenting her? Her mind shifted back to the jeep, her legs over his hard thighs as she taped his face back up. All she had to do was lean forward a few inches and she could have felt how warm and soft his lips were. She snapped back to the present as the major turned to her and spoke.
“Really?” the major incredulously asked, raising his brow. “Well then, I guess I shouldn’t judge at all.”
“Sir, we were not doing anything inappropriate. She was just fixing my bandage.”
“I understand,” Major Taylor grinned a little too widely, saluting and stepping back. He eyed them both, gave a slight chuckle, and turned. “Carry on, then.”
They both saluted and hopped into the jeep, relieved.
“I’m driving,” Connor grunted, shoving Burton over to the passenger seat, then pausing and putting on his seatbelt.
They finally arrived at the medical center and ran into the psych wing, pausing outside of a large white door.
“Okay, Burton you go into this room and I’m going to go next door to the observation room. What?”
She looked up at him with a concerned look, then leaned over and threw up all over his boots. Connor sighed heavily and rubbed his temples, waiting for her to finish as he willed his migraine to let up just a little.
“Damn it all,” he moaned. “I’m being punished for something.”
“Sorry,” she hoarsely said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Do you feel okay? Can you go in there for the psych eval?”
“I feel much better,” she nodded, sipping out of the water fountain and peering up at him. “I told you I was going to throw up.”
“Yes, yes, you win,” Captain Connor sighed, giving up as he opened the door for her and let her into the room with the rest of her unit. He then headed to the bathrooms to clean off his boots.
“Everything all right, sir?” Reyes asked, as Connor finally entered the observation room with his bandage on his face and joined the rest of the psych specialists as they stared through the two-way mirror.
“Everything’s just dandy,” he sarcastically replied, sighing and watching the girls. “How’re they doing?”
“Well, this is the basic information portion of the exam,” Dr. Yas, their specialist, said, walking over to the monitors. The girls sat at long tables, taking exams and having their hearts monitored. He ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “Everything we are asking, we already know the answers to. And according to these readings and their responses, I’d say about ninety-nine percent of them are lying.”
“Well, good lies and bad lies, everyone has something to hide, right?” Connor grinned. “I’d like to not spread the word around anymore than it already has that I just got my ass kicked by a little girl that barely weighs a buck. Is that a bad lie?”
The specialists and doctors turned to look at him. He seemed irritated as he popped a pain pill and stared through the observation window. They turned back to the subjects in the next room. This was probably going to be the most interesting group in Placement Training all year.
Quack Discoveries
“You wrote here that you spent most of your childhood and adolescent life in Alexandria, Virginia.”
Burton shifted around uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair as Doctor Yas looked across the table at her in the dimly lit, small, blue room. It was a dark blue and for some reason made her feel very uncomfortable. She wished there was a window.
“Yes,” she replied, glancing at the suction cups and wires that were attached to her face and body with a ‘are these really necessary’ look.
“Just ignore the monitors and the wires,” the doctor calmly said. “Now, we asked you to give at least one piece of personal information of as many of the ladies in your unit as you could?”
“Yes,” she said, then added, “And?”
“You could all work on that. The ladies in your unit knew about your Headmaster scaring you, Captain Connor scaring you, things like that. You answered in an earlier question that your sophomore year at Hamilton High was,” he paused and looked down at the papers in his hands, “the best freaking year of your life because your parents gave you your first car and you got your first boyfriend all in the same week.”
“Pretty sure the boyfriend came after the car, too” she winked. “He was 6 months younger than me.”
“Hamilton High is a public school,” Dr. Yas stated, taking off his glasses and looking at her.
She opened her arms. She felt uncomfo
rtable and antsy. She felt like she needed to get out and she really hated this Dr. Yas. Where was Connor? She would feel better if she could just talk to him and explain that she didn’t need a psych evaluation.
“There is a principal and there are two vice principals, but no Headmaster and no Dean of Students, things you might find at a private school.”
The monitors began to change as the lines started spiking. She unfolded her hands and lay them flat on the table.
“My mistake. I should have explained to them that I was referring to my college, not my high school,” she answered coldly, a mask of indifference coming over her face.
“Baylor, there’s no record here of you going to college. In fact, there’s no record here of your parents, either. Why aren’t they on your emergency contact list instead of, Jay the gay guy next door.”
She laughed and shook her head, “Oh Jay. He’s a great neighbor but I wouldn’t send anyone over there in an army uniform, you know what I mean?”
Dr. Yas didn’t flinch at her evasion tactics. “I requested a copy of your transcript and diploma from Hamilton High school. They said they couldn’t give any information, so I checked the yearbooks. You never graduated from Hamilton High.”
The monitors spiked again. She stared him down.
“Hey, Doc, I graduated from high school.”
“Oh, I know, Baylor. I know because here I have your transcripts from UVA. And my, they are impressive. So impressive, I wondered why you didn’t check off college education when you enlisted. That’s a conversation for another time, probably between you and your captain. Ultimately, I wondered whether or not you pursued a higher degree since you did so well in undergrad.”
“Doc,” she began, leaning forward on the table and opening her arms, trying to remain calm. The past was in the past and she wanted it to stay there. “What do you want from me?”
“And guess what I found? Doing research on you has been the most fun for me since Oxford. And speaking of Oxford, I see here that you received a double masters over year ago in Business Administration and Economics from, gasp, Oxford.”