~ Sergeant of the Heart ~

by C. E. Gray

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Disclaimer: This is an Uber story, so the characters are mine, and the plot. If you wanna borrow anything, ask first. J All work is copyrighted once you submit it on the internet, but for argument's sake, this work is Copyrighted © by C. E. Gray, 2001

Violence/Language Disclaimer: Yep, definite violence in here. There's a soldier in here with one heck of a temper if you tick her off. She's not afraid of four-letter words, either.

Sexual Disclaimer: Sure! Oh, I mean, yeah, it's in here. Not real graphic, but you get the idea. This does involve the idea (heck it revolves around the idea) that two women are in love, and express that love when given the chance. If this bothers you, I suggest you click back, and find something else to read - it's a big Xenaverse out there, folks.

Last Disclaimer: I have tried to make sure most of the scenes in this story are close to being reasonably realistic. However, to the thanks of my muse, I have brought my creative license into use a time or two.

Notes of Thanks: I'd like to thank my beta-reader and best friend, Amber, for putting up with me through all of this. Also, everyone who's given me responses about Taken, my first attempt at Uber fan fiction - I only know how I'm doing if I get feedback. Another thank you to all those who helped me with the bugs in this thing - I think we got 'em all!

If you like the way it turned out, thank them. If you don't, blame the author. J

You can feed this bard at: Y02Mustang@AOL.com I guarantee a response.

Now, enough of the formal mumbo-jumbo. On with the show!

"Fool," said my muse to me, "look in thy heart and write."

- Sir Philip Sydney

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Part 1

Chapter One

The small blonde woman with tired green eyes sighed. She didn't close for another two hours, but it already felt like she had been in the restaurant all day. Owning RC's Café was hard in and of itself, but being the only waitress to work the tables from lunch 'til closing was worse.

But was it her fault that the waitresses she hired never stayed for more than a week? It was just that the patrons had a habit of feeling up on the women, who would soon after quit. It was either the waitresses or the customers, and RC couldn't lose what business she had.

"Hey, RC," called the cook, Johnny, "up on four!"

Sighing again, Ryanne Cole balanced the tray on her hand, and made her way to table four with the food, praying Johnny had it right. For the past few orders, he had told her the wrong table, and she had been the one to get the customer's wrath.

"Here you are," she said, distributing the food to the three people at the table, feeling relieved when they seemed satisfied. "Is there anything else I can get you?" They shook their heads, so Ryanne left the people to their food, returning to the kitchen to get her next tray.

Moments later, the door to the café opened, and a dozen uniformed men walked in, taking a seat at the long table near the rear of the building. With the café being so close to the Army base, it was not unusual to see the soldiers stop by for a bite to eat while they were on break.

What was unusual, however, was the next person in camouflage who walked in.

She was tall, maybe 6'0'' Ryanne guessed, with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes. Her skin was bronzed and her strength radiated from her body; the woman's authority was apparent as soon as she walked in the door, just by the way she carried herself. The name-tag read K. Jones, and RC wondered what her rank was, unable to tell by the stripes on her shoulder patch.

"May I take your order?" asked Ryanne, scribbling down the immense amount of food that each man requested. "And you?" she asked the woman, who stood by the wall, keeping an eye on the men.

"Banana smoothie," she said, and Ryanne just stared for a moment, unable to move. The woman's voice was lower and richer than any she had ever heard.

A dark eyebrow arched in her direction after a moment's pause. "You might want to write that down," remarked the tall woman, causing Ryanne to blush that she had been caught with her mouth open.

"Right," said Ryanne, as she turned and quickly walked away.

What got into me? she wondered. I've never stared at a customer like that before! Then again, I've never seen anyone as beautiful as her before…

As she squeezed past two customers, she froze when she felt a hand grasp her behind. Glancing to the man whom the offending hand belonged to, he smiled stupidly, and she smirked at him before brushing him off and walking past him.

Bringing the Army men their beverages, she felt several hands grope for her. With an irritable sigh, she mumbled under her breath as she returned to the kitchen.

Sitting down on a stool, she took a sip of her water, and waited for the smoothie to finish blending. She didn't hear the woman approach her.

"Are you all right?" she asked, making the blonde jump. The young woman had seemed disturbed, and she hoped her men hadn't been their usual rowdy selves. The blonde seemed too gentle for the likes of their manners.

Jones had seen the patron who reached for the waitress' butt, and felt a sudden urge to pound him senseless for such a move. She had no idea where that urge to protect the woman came from - she didn't even know her name!

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Ryanne. "Nothing I haven't dealt with before. Here you go," she said, when the woman's drink was ready.

"Thanks. Where's the manager?" she asked.

"You're talking to her," replied RC, warily. "Is something wrong?"

"No, everything's fine," assured the tall female soldier. "Just wondering why the manager would put up with people bothering the waitress."

"Part of the job," sighed RC, but it was obvious she didn't like the negative attention.

"It doesn't have to be," said Jones, walking over to the head of the table. The men eyed her, curiously.

I've never been one to flaunt my status, or risk humiliating my men, in public, but for some reason, I feel compelled to help this woman, thought Jones. I saw the way they were looking at her, and I know they had something to do with her being uncomfortable.

"Attention!" she belted out, and the men scrambled to their feet, wondering what was going on. It wasn't like their sergeant to be so formal in public, much less a busy restaurant.

"Eyeballs," she called, and twelve pairs of eyes watched her every move.

"Click!" reverberated off the walls, as every man sounded off, telling their commanding officer they were paying attention.

"You see that lovely lady over there? She runs this fine establishment, and even waits the tables," Jones said, pointing out Ryanne, who was also watching the scene, along with the rest of her customers. "I don't want to hear of anyone disrespecting her, or bothering her.

"If anyone tries anything, they can do the same thing to me and see what happens," she warned, her power clear as a few people gulped. "And if any of my men are caught being rude, we'll spend an extra hour in the field doing drills for each one. Is that understood?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" replied the men, in perfect sync, snapping to attention when they responded.

"As you were," she said, and they sat back down, quietly.

Jones walked back over to Ryanne, retrieving her drink form the counter where she had set it down, and took a long drink.

"Thank you…?" said Ryanne, waiting for a name.

The tall woman mentally kicked herself. "I'm sorry," she said, extending her hand to the small woman. "Kris. Kris Jones."

"I'm Ryanne, but everyone calls me RC," she said. "Thank you, Kris. No one's ever stood up for me like that before."

Kris shrugged. "Not a problem," she said. "They can get a little rowdy when they're on break. We shouldn't be here too much longer," she added.

RC was about to respond, saying that the woman was welcome to stay for as long as she liked, when Johnny cried, "RC, up on nine!" The men's dinner was ready.

"Excuse me," she said, taking the tray, knowing she would have to make at least two trips to order to get all the food to the table.

"We've got an hour," Kris announced, and the men nodded, digging into their food, careful not to so much as glance at the beautiful waitress.

"Don't you want anything?" asked RC, and Kris shook her head.

"I'm okay, thanks," she said.

Another table's order was ready, and RC excused herself again, taking the tray over to the young couple, noticing they shared an order of fries and a sundae.

Off in her own thoughts, she wasn't paying much attention as she walked away, and didn't notice the man until she ran into him.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, attempting to slide past him, finding it difficult as they were caught between a chair and the edge of a table.

"S'okay," slurred the man, obviously drunk. RC instantly remembered him; he had been in every Friday night for the past three weeks, getting plastered until he couldn't see straight, and then stumbling home.

But he had never caused trouble.

"I'm sorry, Paul, I didn't mean to bump into you," she said, once again trying to back away, but the man stopped her.

Paul reached one hand out to grasp her shoulder, while the other went a little lower. He gripped the flesh hard, and RC cried out, squirming to get loose of his hold, and failing.

Kris made it over to the scene in three long strides. Grabbing the man's shoulder, she shoved him back into the table, and gently pushed Ryanne out of the way.

"I said I didn't want to hear of anyone disrespecting her," said the soldier, towering over the drunken slob, leaning over him so he was bent over backwards on the table, and she pushed him further, pressing her face closer to his, ignoring the pungent smell that made her stomach turn.

"You wanna try the same move on me?" she demanded, and he shook his head.

Jones' lip turned up into a smirk when she noticed the dark stain spreading on the crotch of his pants. "You come back here again, and I'll skin ya, understand?" The man nodded, and Kris picked him up by the collar of his shirt, and literally threw him out the door.

Going to the waitress' side, Kris was aware of the other patrons staring at her. "What?!" she shouted, and everyone suddenly found their meal very interesting, as all eyes went to the plates in front of them.

"Are you okay?" Kris asked, and RC nodded, one hand rubbing her sore shoulder. The blonde knew by the throbbing in her chest, that her breast would no doubt have finger-prints where the man had grabbed her.

"Thanks," said the woman, and Kris sat down beside her, shrugging it off.

The two made small talk for a while, Ryanne asking most of the questions, about Army life, mainly. Over an hour later, Kris felt a tap on her shoulder. She raised an eyebrow at the soldier.

"Ma'am, it's been more than an hour," he pointed out.

Kris sighed; and she had just begun to enjoy the blonde's company and endless chatter…

"All right. Fall in!" she barked, and they formed a straight line in a flash.

"That should cover it," she said, tossing a bill on the counter next to RC. "If you have any more questions, or just want to talk, call me." Writing her number on a napkin, she turned to face her men, and noticed that one was glancing at her.

"Face front! Did I tell you to look away and listen in on my conversations, soldier?" she demanded.

The man's head snapped forward. "Ma'am, no, ma'am!" he shouted.

"Would you like to stay and talk to me after lights out, Jackson?"

"Ma'am, no, ma'am!" he responded, promptly.

"Forward march! Column right!" Kris commanded, as the first man made it out the front door. Each soldier turned to the right at the same point as the first man, in a ninety degree angle. Following the men, Kris marched them back to the base, where they would turn in, and then go on leave for the weekend.

* * * * *

Back at the restaurant, RC cleaned up, told Johnny to go home, and prepared to close for the weekend. Her customers knew that she took every other Saturday off, and was closed every Sunday. Those who didn't could read the sign on the door.

Glancing at the denomination Kris had left on the counter, her jaw dropped. The food didn't cost $100!

Surely it was a mistake, she thought. I'll just give her the change the next time I see her. Hey, it'll give me a reason to call her! she realized, excitedly.

An hour later, all the tables were clean, the chairs were stacked on top of them, and the floor had been vacuumed. She was ready to go home, finally.

Ryanne climbed into her Chevrolet Lumina and drove the fifteen miles to her home, a small apartment, really, just on the outskirts of the bad part of town.

Arriving at her home twenty minutes later, the blonde dropped her bag - which contained her tips and other moneys - on the kitchen counter, and then knocked on her neighbor's door.

An elderly woman answered. "Hi, Louise," greeted Ryanne. "How was she tonight?"

Louise Hillman smiled. "Fine, dear, as always," she replied, brushing her silver bangs away from her gentle face. "She's asleep right now, I thought you might want to get her, so she doesn't wake up," she added, and RC nodded.

"Sure," she said, and walked into the living room, where her daughter was curled up, asleep on the woman's couch. Picking her up, blanket, pillow, stuffed elephant and all, Ryanne carried her out the door, turning only to thank Ms. Hillman again.

"It's okay, sweetheart," she said, as the child stirred. "Momma's got you, it's all right. Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" The little girl rubbed her eyes, nodded, and then put her head back onto her mother's shoulder, tiredly.

"Okay, honey," said Ryanne, placing the girl on one side of her bed, before climbing in next to her. "Sweet dreams, Cassidy."

* * * * *

Once she was out of her fatigues, Kris laid on her bed, staring up at the ceiling in her quarters, thinking.

I've never given my home phone number out after just an hour-long conversation, she thought, so why was I so eager to give it to Ryanne? Such a pretty name… with a face and a body like hers, I'm sure she's got a line of guys just bursting to be with her. I'd like to be first in that line…

God, why do I keep thinking about her? I probably won't see her again for a long time, and I doubt she'll call me, so nothing will ever come of this.

She sighed.

Damn.

Wishing she'd had more time to speak with the young green-eyed blonde, like forever, Kris Jones closed her eyes, and fell asleep.

Chapter Two

The next morning, after finishing a report on a soldier's habitual disobedience, Kris drove home, relieved to be away from the dozens of sweaty, often ignorant, males that she worked with.

"Home" was an 1800 square-foot house with a four acre backyard, hidden in the winding hills, five miles from the main road. No one but Kris and her horse - just the way she liked it.

Pulling into her driveway at nine o'clock, Kris parked her red Ford F-250 in the garage, and walked into her house, duffel bag in hand. Staying at the base was an option open to her, but she chose to come home on the weekends, and every once in a while, weeknights, too.

Setting her bag down in her room, the woman walked out to her stables, and greeted her horse.

"Morning, girl," she said, and the Palomino mare snorted at her, happy to see her. "How have you been, huh? Did Mickey take good care of my Wind Dancer?" Mickey was her ranch-hand, who took care of her house and her horse while she was away.

Wind Dancer was a five year old Palomino, who used to race, but when Kris bought her, she was put into early retirement. Named after her sire, Wind Stream, and her dam, Star Dancer, the mare inherited all the best qualities from both. She was beautiful, with her golden color and silver mane, fast, like her father, gentle, like her mother, and very intelligent. Kris liked to say the horse got the last trait from her.

Kris rode her frequently, and often gave her timed runs to keep her in shape, occasionally setting up jumps and such, or going on overnight rides back in the hills.

Leading the mare out of the stable to brush her, Kris noticed with a frown that the horse seemed to be favoring her right hind foot. Running her hand down Wind Dancer's leg, the woman noticed that when she got to one particular spot, just above to the horse's fetlock, the animal flinched, and even snorted.

"Did you pull a muscle, girl?" she asked, and retired her mare to the stalls, deciding to keep her from running for a week or so, to allow her time to recover. The horse hadn't pulled a muscle since her racing days, but Kris knew it happened occasionally, over-extension of a tendon or twisting of a joint while frolicking around.

She had just finished grooming her mare, and was about to go back inside for breakfast, when Kris heard the phone ring. Grumbling, she raced out of the stall and ran in the door, just in time to answer the call before her answering machine picked up.

"Hello?" she answered, and was a little surprised to hear the soft voice that responded.

"Hi, is this Kris?" asked the woman, and the soldier's jaw dropped as she immediately recognized the gentle tone.

Okay, so she was a lot surprised.

"Ryanne?" she asked, dumbfounded. She didn't think the woman would actually call!

"Yeah," acknowledged the woman. "I was just wondering if I could bring over your change today."

Kris frowned. "Change?" she asked, puzzled.

"You accidentally left a hundred dollar bill on the counter," she explained, "and I thought I'd bring you back the extra amount."

The tall woman laughed. "That wasn't an accident," she insisted. "I know exactly how much I paid you. And I meant for you to keep the change," she added. Damn, this woman had a really honest heart if she'd willingly give a person back fifty plus dollars.

"Oh, but Kris, I couldn't," protested the blonde, flustered by the generous offer. "I mean, it's too much."

"Nonsense. Just consider it a little donation for what you have to put up with day after day, okay?" Kris said, gently. "You can bring it over if you want, but I'll find some way to get it back to you."

RC sighed. "All right," she said, and Kris could hear the smile in her voice. "Thank you, Kris. Very much," she added, sincerely.

"No problem. That offer to come on over still stands," she hinted, hoping she wasn't being too obvious that she wanted to see the blonde again.

"Well, I -" began the blonde, but was cut short by something that distracted her on the other line. "Hold on just a second," she told Kris.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Ryanne asked whomever she was talking to, and Kris' heart dropped.

Sweetheart? she thought, her throat dry.

"Okay," she sighed, "I'll be there in a minute, Cass. Go back into the living room, honey, and watch TV. Sorry about that," she said, turning her attention back to the woman on the other end of the phone line.

"You there?" she asked, when there was no answer.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm here," replied Kris. She suddenly felt very deflated, upon learning that Ryanne already had someone in her life. And a man, no less. That blew the hell out of her chances.

"I'd love to take you up on your offer, but it would have to be later this afternoon," said RC. "When is best for you?"

"Anytime," responded the soldier, evenly. "Uh, how about three?" she asked, and Ryanne agreed. "See you then." The women said their good-byes, after Kris made sure RC had clear directions to her home, and hung up the phone.

"Well, Jones," said Kris, aloud to herself, "you've done it again. Fallen for a woman that you have about as much chance of getting with as a snowball in Hell has of making it out as anymore than a raindrop. Shit, soldier, why do you give your heart away every time a pretty face looks your way?" she demanded.

"It's eleven o'clock," she said. "I've got a few hours to clean up this pig sty of a house."

Actually, Kris' house was quite clean, and very orderly, what with the woman being in the army and all, but she still felt the need to keep it spotless. Grabbing a can of Pledge and a dust rag, she went to work.

She finished at one o'clock, taking only a ten minute break to eat lunch, and was pleased with her work. Deciding to spend the next hour or so in her garage, working out with her exercise equipment, the soldier put away her cleaning materials, and changed into a pair of sweat pants and a tank top. Tying her long black hair back in a loose ponytail to keep it out of her face, she grabbed a bottle of water and prepared for vigorous physical training

Before she knew it, there was a knock at the door. Glancing down at her watch, she cursed aloud. "Shit," she mumbled, walking to the door. She had lost track of time, and it was already ten past three.

"Hi," she said, opening the door to let her guest in. The blonde was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, perfect for the country home. Kris, despite the casual dress of RC, lost her voice for a moment.

"Uh, come on in, and make yourself at home," said Jones, motioning for RC to sit on the couch if she so desired. "I'm going to go change, and I'll be out in just a minute."

"Is this a bad time?" asked the waitress, and Kris shook her head.

"No, it's my fault," she said, "I was working out and lost track of time. I'll be back in just a second," she added, before jogging down the hallway to her room. She jumped into a pair of blue jeans and a soft blue sleeveless shirt, deciding to go around in her socked feet, never being the type to wear shoes unless she had no other choice.

Ryanne took this time to look around Kris' house, what she could see from the living room couch. She wasn't the type to go snooping around unless the owner was with her, or she had been there more than a few times.

She noticed a nice looking TV, VCR, and various other electronics in an oak entertainment center. A few comfy looking chairs were spread throughout the room, and looking out the window, she caught sight of a beautiful green field. All in all, she felt very relaxed and at ease.

Not to mention the fact the sight that had greeted her when she first walked in had been quite pleasant - seeing the well-built soldier dressed in nothing but sweats and a tank top had been enough to send a tingle down to her fingertips. An old, nearly forgotten feeling to the woman, but familiar and welcomed, nonetheless.

"Okay," sighed Kris, coming back in to sit across from Ryanne in the large recliner. "That's better. Can I get you anything?" she asked, and RC shook her head.

"No, thank you. You have a very lovely house," she said, and Kris grinned.

"Thanks. Would you like a tour?" she offered, and the blonde nodded. Jones showed her guest around her home, and then took her out back to meet Wind Dancer.

"This is my girl, Wind Dancer," she said, proudly, stroking the mare's nose. Ryanne seemed a little afraid, so Kris took her hand, and led it to the horse's strong neck. "It's okay," she said, trying to ignore the feeling that placing her hand over Ryanne's was causing, "she won't hurt you."

"She's big," commented the woman, finally relaxing enough to stroke Wind Dancer's mane on her own.

Kris nodded. "She used to race, but now she's gotten lazy," she said, and laughed when the mare snorted at her in disdain, as if she knew she had been insulted. "Oh, relax. I'm kidding," she said, kissing the horse on the nose.

Ryanne chuckled at the sight, and Kris raised an eyebrow at her, curious as to what she was laughing at. "Big tough soldier is nothing but a softy," she said, and was surprised at her own boldness.

When the woman's expression didn't change, RC was going to apologize, afraid she had offended her, but the tall woman smiled. "You tell any of the guys at the base this and I'll have to kill you," she said, lightly. "Yeah, I can be a hard ass, but only because my job calls for it."

They were heading back inside when the phone rang. Picking up her pace, so Ryanne had to struggle to keep up with her long-legged strides, Kris grabbed the phone quickly.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Is Ryanne there?" asked the voice, and Kris frowned.

"Who is this?" she demanded, immediately suspicious. How did this person know Ryanne was at her house?

"This is Louise Hillman, I'm a friend of Ryanne," explained the woman. "Is this the wrong number? She said I could call if it was an emergency…"

At the word 'emergency', Kris was alert. "Hang on just a moment," she said, and gave Ryanne the phone.

"Someone named Hillman," she told her, and the blood drained from the blonde's face as she took the call.

"Ms. Hillman? Is everything okay?" she asked, anxiously.

"Well, yes and no," responded the elderly baby-sitter.

"What do you mean?" cried Ryanne, fearfully.

"That 'cold' you said she had has become worse. Cassidy seems to have the flu," explained the woman, "and she keeps asking for you. She won't eat anything for me, and she's running a fever. She should be okay for a few hours, if you have anything else you have to do, but I thought you would like to know," added Ms. Hillman.

"Okay, thank you, Louise," replied Ryanne, looking a little more steady on her feet.

"Oh, one more thing, dear," interjected Ms. Hillman.

"Yes?"

"Daniel stopped by just after you left," said the old woman.

For a moment, Kris feared Ryanne would pass out, she turned so white. Leading her to the couch, the soldier sat next to the woman, concerned.

"What did you say?" uttered the woman, her voice a bare whisper as her throat was suddenly dry, and she found it hard to speak.

"Daniel came over, and asked to see Cassidy," repeated Louise. "I wouldn't let him, however, and he left when I threatened to call the police. Ryanne, don't worry if you come back and there's a cop car here. I asked them to come out and keep an eye on us," she explained, and Ryanne released the breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Thanks, Louise," said RC. "I'll be there in just a little while." The women said their good-byes, and hung up the phone, but Kris didn't get up.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, knowing it wasn't.

RC nodded, and tried to shrug it off. "Yeah, it's fine," she lied.

Yeah, everything's great, she thought. Some psychotic drug addict just walked right through the restraining order I placed on him, and tried to steal my daughter. Everything's peachy fucking keen.

The blonde tried to get up, but Kris held her arm. "No, it's not," she said, quietly, and met Ryanne's eyes. For some reason, the tall woman knew she had to get the woman to open up, then she could help her. Help her with what, she wasn't sure; she only knew she had never felt this way around anyone before.

Whatever 'this way' was.

"Kris, please, it's nothing," said Ryanne, breaking eye contact.

Jones tilted the woman's face towards her to look into her deep green eyes once more. "Tell me," was all she said, gently, before tears filled the emerald eyes, and spilled over as Kris pulled her into her arms.

The blonde cried herself out, and then pulled back a few minutes later, sniffling. "I'm sorry, Kris. I've known you for a day, and already I'm crying on your shoulder," she said, half-smiling. "I'm normally not like this, really."

Kris shrugged, her arm still around the young woman's shoulders. "It's all right," she said. "Now, what's going on?"

Ryanne sighed, and before she knew it, she was telling the strong soldier in front of her everything. She bared her soul more than she had ever done before.

"First, I guess I should tell you that that was my baby-sitter who called," she started. "Ms. Hillman baby-sits for my three-, almost four-year old daughter, Cassidy."

Cassidy? Cass! thought Kris, excitedly. Maybe she doesn't have a boyfriend… yes! Wait, was that other part? Daughter… hm… where's daddy?

"You have a daughter?" asked Jones, and Ryanne nodded, hoping the truth wouldn't make her new friend look down upon her.

"I adopted her from my sister, who died in childbirth. She asked me to take her child if anything ever happened to her, so I did," said RC. "There were complications during the birth, but, luckily, Cassidy wasn't affected. Also, her father, Daniel, has been on drugs all his life, but, somehow, she escaped with no permanent damage from the numerous substances in his system," sighed Ryanne, thanking God, as she did each time she thought about how lucky she was to have a healthy little girl, especially under the circumstances.

"Daniel has been trying to take her from me since he found out Rachel, my sister, left her with me. Ms. Hillman said that he stopped by today, and tried to take her again, even though I put a restraining order against him to keep him from seeing Cass.

"The last time he saw her, when she was only fifteen old, he nearly killed her," said RC, and she still got a little choked up by the memory. "He sat her in the same room as his friends, who were drinking, smoking, cussing, and doing drugs. When I came to pick her up, she was coughing and crying. That was when I filed for a restraining order, for child endangerment," explained Ryanne, and Kris nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"I can't afford to move, or I would, to get Cassidy out of that environment. I don't live far from the tracks, which, as you probably know, is not the best part of town," said RC, and Kris nodded, again. "I just get so scared, because there's times I know Daniel could come up behind me, or sneak into the house, or get some of his drug buddies together, and I'd never know it until it was too late.

"I'd give anything to keep her safe, but even if I sold everything I own, it wouldn't be enough to move out of there. That's why your… donation, meant so much to me," finished Ryanne, smiling.

Kris grinned. "Glad I could help. Listen, if you and Cassidy ever need somewhere to stay, you can come up to the base and crash in my quarters, or you can stay up here. For as long as you need," she added.

Jones, you're being irrational, she told herself. You've known her for less than 24 hours, and you're offering her, and a child you've never met, your home?!

"Oh, Kris, I couldn't!" exclaimed Ryanne, shocked by the woman's generosity. "You've been too kind already, I couldn't ask for you to do anymore."

"You didn't ask," she said, "I offered. Now, the way I see it, you've got two options. You can stay there, worried for you and for Cassidy, or you can stay with me, on the base or here, where I can guarantee you'll be safe. Oh, and option number one doesn't count," she added, smiling - a rare sight when it came to the soldier, that Ryanne found to be very beautiful.

RC returned the smile. "I guess that doesn't leave me very much of a choice, now, does it?" she asked, lightly.

"That was the idea."

"Well, in that case, I'll take you up on that offer. It may have to be later rather than sooner, however, because I have to get home right now and take care of Cassidy. She's got the flu, from what Ms. Hillman tells me, and I need to go to her. I'll call you later, and tell you what's going on," she said, as she stood, and Kris walked her to the door.

"Here," said the soldier, handing the blonde a piece of paper. "If you need to get a hold of me right away, for any reason, page me. And I also put my number at the base on there. I'm there Monday through Friday, usually, but you can always beep me if you can't reach me there," she added, and Ryanne nodded, surprising them both by giving the tall woman a hug, which the soldier returned.

"Thanks, Kris," said the blonde. "I'll find a way to repay you for all of this." One more smile, and the small woman walked out the door, climbing into her car and driving away.

"Jones, do you really want a screaming three-year old running around the base, or the house, much less?" Kris answered her own question. "Only if it means I get to see Ryanne smile again," she said, grinning to herself.

* * * * *

Ryanne was glad Ms. Hillman had warned her about the police cars. As it was, the sight still caused her heart to jump to her throat. She rushed inside the house, and went straight to her daughter, who was lying on the couch, curled up into a ball under her blanket.

"Hi, sweetheart," said Ryanne, kneeling next to the sofa, placing her hand against Cassidy's forehead, relieved to only feel a slight warmth. "Mama's here, baby. What hurts?" The little girl put her hand over her stomach, and then around her throat.

"Do you have a sore throat?" The redhead nodded, and her green eyes looked up at her mother, with the cloud of illness. "Do you want to go home, honey?" Another nod. "Okay. Let me talk to Ms. Hillman for a minute, and I'll take you home."

Rising to her feet, RC sought out the elderly woman, and went to her side. "Thank you, Ms. Hillman," she said, reaching into her pocket. "How much do I owe you?"

The old woman smiled, and shook her head. "You don't owe me a thing, Ryanne. I'm just glad I could help," she said. "It makes me feel needed, something I miss in my old age. Now, you take the little one home, and take care of her. I'll be in touch, darling," she added, and RC hugged the woman, gently.

"Thanks, Louise," she said, and then picked her daughter up into her arms. Ryanne noticed the police cars were gone when she walked the few feet back to her house, and figured they probably had other things to do than stay with an old woman and her charge. The blonde wasn't surprised they had left as soon as she got there.

"Okay, Cass," said Ryanne, lying her daughter down on her bed. Whenever the youngster was sick, she liked being in her mother's bed, not her own, so that was where RC automatically took her. "I'll get you some medicine that will make you feel all better, okay?" The girl nodded, and RC returned with some grape flavored syrup for the girl's throat, that would also coat her stomach.

The blonde waitress smiled as she watched her daughter swallow the purple liquid, and brushed the child's hair away from her face as she gave her a kiss on her cool forehead. She didn't doubt the illness had been brought on by RC's sudden departure - Cassidy did not like it when her mother left, and if she had been feeling a little bad lately, it was easy for her to make it worse and draw her mother's attention.

Ryanne knew what the girl was doing, but played along with it, anyhow. She didn't rush home, however, when the toddler feigned illness, and knew eventually she would have to break the child of the habit.

Cassidy drew her mother out of her musings by spreading the fingers of her right hand apart, and placing them on her small chin, signing, "Mother."

"What is it, sweetheart?" asked Ryanne.

"Daddy came back," the child signed, roughly, and RC sighed.

"Yes, Cassidy, he did. But Daddy didn't hurt you, did he?" The girl shook her head. "Baby, do you want to stay here?" Cassidy's brow furrowed, and she looked confused by the question. "Do you want to keep living here, so close to Daddy?" The girl shook her head, earnestly.

"I know, Cass, me neither," said RC, placing her cheek against her daughter's as the girl yawned, and closed her eyes. "Me neither."

The blonde was nearly asleep, lulled by the rhythmic sound of her daughter's breathing, when a loud knock startled her. Going to the door, she looked out the peephole, and felt her heart stop. Checking that the door was locked, she closed the door to her bedroom, and prepared for the confrontation she was sure was going to occur.

"Open the door, bitch!" snarled the man outside, and, involuntarily, Ryanne flinched. The man still scared her.

"No, Daniel," said RC. "Go away, please. Cassidy's asleep, don't wake her, she doesn't feel well," she added, hoping against hope the man would leave.

"She needs her father," he shouted, kicking at the door so hard the entire house seemed to shake. "Open the goddamn door! I want to see my little girl!" His speech was slurred, and Ryanne knew the man was extremely drunk. Then again, she'd never known him not to be wasted.

"Daniel, you're drunk," she said, attempting to rationalize with the man. "You can't see her, especially when you're plastered. The restraining order says so."

The man roared, and charged at the door, bursting inside the house as the door swung open, complaining, on weak hinges. "Give me my daughter!" he demanded, and Ryanne shook, but refused to back down.

"No," she said, standing up to him. He took a swing at her, and knocked her to the ground, but she got right back up when he headed for the bedroom door. "Stay away from her!" she cried, taking a punch at the man's jaw. The large man was so drunk, the weak hit was enough to send him to the floor. On the way down, he hit his head on the corner of the coffee table, and was knocked unconscious.

Ryanne was shaken, but knew he wouldn't stay out long. She also knew they had to get out of there. Rushing into the bedroom, the blonde gathered her daughter into her arms, loaded her in the back seat of the car, and took off down the road. Pulling over a while later, RC let herself cry, and then joined her daughter in slumber. The sign on the side of the freeway read, "Lincoln Army Base Next Right." Ryanne figured she'd sleep as much as she could, and then gather her courage to take Kris up on her offer. She had no choice.

Chapter Three

Kris adjusted her camouflage cap a little, as the sun moved through the clear sky and looked her in the eye. Her platoon of thirty-five, thirty-two men and three women, was standing obediently at attention. Jones had to admit, she had a good crew.

The soldier was about to bark out a command, when a smug voice interrupted her. "Sergeant," sneered the man, and Jones turned to face him, briefly. Giving him a slight nod of acknowledgment, Kris turned away, and told her company "At ease." She had no doubt Sergeant Jenkins would keep her for a while, since he was known to throw his weight around.

But Kris had a surprise for him, this time.

"Attention!" called the man, and Jones just stared at him. "Soldier, when a superior officer gives you a command, you follow it!"

"As soon as I see one, I'll be sure to do that," smiled Kris. She loved being able to irritate the soldier.

"What do you think you're doing, Jones?" he demanded, angrily. "I outrank you!"

"Not last time I checked," said Jones, and then slapped herself on the forehead. "Oh, that's right! You weren't at the ceremony three weeks ago, were you?" she asked, sweetly.

Jenkins frowned. He didn't like the tone this woman was giving him. "I just happened to be out of town, yes," he affirmed.

Yeah, Jenkins, thought Kris. Out of town without your wife. Does she know about your little "business trip" to the beach? With your secretary? Jones had confirmed the rumor herself by cornering the said secretary, and asking the right questions. The soldier had no doubt Jenkins knew she knew what was going on.

"Well, I got promoted," said Kris, merely stating the facts, although she wanted to rub his face in it.

"Congratulations!" snarled Jenkins, sounding as insincere as was humanly possible. "What are you now, Captain of the Mess Hall?" He chuckled at his own joke, while Jones just smirked.

"No, no," she said, playing along. "I'm not Captain, yet. Try Staff Sergeant." The Sergeant's jaw dropped - that meant she did outrank him! "So, Sergeant, who outranks who?" Leaning forward, she spoke into his ear, "Jenkins, I suggest you walk out of here before you make an ass of yourself in front of my men. We can discuss this later, in private, if you'd like," she added, holding back a grin.

"No, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am," he swallowed, and turned smartly on his heel, leaving the practice field before Staff Sergeant Jones made good on her threat.

When the man was out of sight, Kris called, "Back to work, grunts. Attention!" Drilling them for an hour, Kris was ready to have them go for a run, when a Private came up to her, out of breath from his rush, being on his way to deliver another summons after the current one.

"Sergeant!" he called, and tried to come to attention, but could hardly breathe.

Kris noticed his predicament, and said, immediately, "At ease, Private. Catch your breath."

The man took a moment to regain his posture, and then said, "Ma'am, Captain Bowman requests your presence."

Kris nodded. "Okay, Private," she said. "Tell him I'll be there in an hour or so."

"Now, ma'am," added the soldier, and Kris sighed. Nodding, she turned back to her platoon, told them to get some lunch, and then meet back on the field in half an hour. They scattered to the Mess Hall, and the Private escorted Jones to the Captain's office, before hurrying off to deliver his next message.

"Sir, you wanted to see me immediately?" said Kris, standing just outside the office, saluting her commanding officer until he did the same.

The Captain stood. "Yes, Sergeant, come on in and have a seat," he beckoned, motioning to a chair a few feet in front of his desk. Kris did as she was told, and sat at attention; both feet planted firmly on the ground, her right hand on her right knee, left hand on her left knee, back straight, and eyes looking straight ahead.

Captain Bowman chuckled. "At ease, Jones," he said, and Kris relaxed, placing her hands in her lap. "This is not an official meeting. Sergeant Ronald Jenkins made a complaint to me. He claims you harassed him," said the Captain, and help up his hand to quell any objections from Kris. "I know you're not an officer to cause trouble. Did you hit him?"

"No, sir," replied Kris.

"Tell me what happened."

"I was drilling with my men, sir," began Kris, "and the Sergeant came up behind me, intent on flaunting his status, I'm sure." The Captain nodded; he knew the man's tendencies. "Well, since I was promoted a few weeks ago, I outrank him. However, instead of embarrassing him, sir, I simply suggested that he leave."

"But you didn't touch him?" questioned Captain Bowman.

"No, sir, I didn't touch him," confirmed Kris. "I warned him of being an ass, but I never laid a hand on him."

The Captain nodded, he knew Jenkins had blown it way out of proportion. "Well, the Sergeant wanted me to make a report on it, but I don't see that anything occurred worth reporting, so I'm going to let it drop. And Sergeant?"

"Sir?"

"I don't object to your actions, but just to warn you, I don't want to hear of you striking an officer. Around others," he added, through his hand, and Kris smiled as she stood. "One more thing, Jones."

"Sir?" she replied, obediently.

"I know you're not one for training the new recruits, but we're getting in more than we can handle. It's good that we're getting so many, because we need the manpower, but we're short on training officers. Think you can take care of a company of grunts for a while?" he asked, and Kris sighed, dramatically, being on good terms with Captain. Had anyone else done that to a superior officer, they'd have been in for a load of trouble.

"I suppose it won't kill me, sir," she said, and smirked, before turning more serious. "Sir, I feel the need to inform you of something."

"Go ahead," prompted the Captain, kindly.

"I may have company on base sometime this week, and she may bring her young child with her. I don't know how long she will stay," she added. "Permission to allow her and her daughter to remain on base in my quarters?"

"Granted," said the man, and knew whoever it was must have been important to Kris, because the full smile that graced her features was a rare one. "As long as you're sure the child won't be too much of a distraction."

"Thank you, sir." Saluting, Kris left the man's office, and smiled a little as she walked back out to the practice field. If Ryanne did decide to come to the base and stay, she was covered by the Captain.

The obstacle course was empty, and the soldier figured she could use the work out. Dropping her cap on the ground next to the start of the equipment, Kris went through the course, enjoying the rush it gave her.

By the time she was finished, her platoon had reappeared, and she ordered them to fall in.

"Well, this is the last time I'll see you all," she said, walking between the ranks. "After today, you'll be with Sergeant Jenkins. Make me proud," she grinned, which faded when she noticed that one particular soldier kept darting his eyes to something behind her.

"Do you see something interesting, soldier?" she asked, and he meekly turned his head forward. "What are you looking at?"

"Her," said the man, nodding towards someone just off to his left. Frowning slightly, Kris turned to see what he was talking about, and her jaw hit the ground. There, standing just at the edge of the practice field, was Ryanne, holding a young girl in her arms. Both looked extremely worn down, and RC looked like she'd been dragged through fifty miles of broken glass and hot sand, to put it mildly.

"Dismissed," said Kris, offhandedly. The company obediently saluted her, even though she was paying absolutely no attention to them, about-faced, and walked away, giving their commanding officer and whoever the other woman was some privacy.

"Ryanne?" asked the soldier, going to her side. "Hey, what happened to you? Are you okay?"

RC shook her head. "Listen, Kris, I'm really sorry to just show up like this, but I had nowhere else to go," she said, and tears came to her eyes. "Daniel came over last night."

Kris' eyes widened with the news. "Come on," she said, putting an arm around the young woman's shoulders, "we'll go to my quarters and get you something to drink. Then you can tell me all about it, okay?" Ryanne nodded, and shifted the heavy weight of her sleeping daughter in her arms.

"You can put her down on my bed," said Kris, when they entered her barracks. Staying in an officer's room had it's advantages; she got a nice bed, a living room with a TV and VCR, a full kitchen with a few dishes, and a small dining room. Most just got a bed, a couch, and a table with two chairs.

When she was sure Cassidy was comfortable, and still sound asleep, RC came back out into the living room, where Kris was sitting on the arm of the sofa. The soldier motioned for the blonde to have a seat, a request which she gratefully obeyed, and Kris handed her a glass of water.

"Thanks," said the waitress, sipping the liquid, thankful. "Are you sure it's okay that I'm here?"

Kris nodded. "Yep, you're fine," she affirmed. "I've already cleared both you and Cassidy with the Captain. He says as long as Cassidy doesn't make too much noise, and disturb anyone, she's okay."

Ryanne smiled a little. "I don't think you'll have to worry about Cassidy making too much noise," she said.

"Ryanne, I know a lot of parents say their kids don't make a lot of noise, you know, yell and scream, but…" she protested, softly, and Ryanne cut her off.

"No, I mean, Cassidy won't make noise. She's mute," said RC, noting that Kris' reaction was not upset, only startled. Most people were repelled by the idea, but not the soldier.

"Mute?" asked Kris. "Not autistic?"

Ryanne shook her head. "I've had her tested for autism several times, usually once every few months, but she's nearly four, and it would have been detected by now," she added. "It's my belief that the whole ordeal with Daniel, when he had her when she was nine months old, traumatized her or something, and now she won't talk."

"What happened last night?" asked the soldier, putting a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder. Taking a deep breath, Ryanne told Kris everything, from arriving at Ms. Hillman's and picking Cassidy up, to walking onto base that same morning.

"You slept in the car?" asked Kris, for the third time. "My God, Ryanne. I am so sorry. Why didn't you call me last night?"

"It was too late," said Ryanne, quietly. "I didn't want to bother you."

Kris took the woman's small hands into her own, and looked into Ryanne's deep green eyes. "Ryanne, don't ever worry about that, okay? If you're in trouble, or if you need anything, just call me. The answer will always be yes," she added, smiling.

Tired green eyes brightened a little. "Thanks," said Ryanne, giving the soldier a quick hug. "Did we interrupt something out in the field?" she asked, after a moment of silence.

Kris shook her head. "No," she said. "I was just giving my men some last minute instructions. They're going under another Sergeant soon, and I wanted to give them a quick briefing," she explained.

Ryanne yawned, and Kris hid a smile. "Why don't you go lie down with Cassidy?" she offered. "You must be exhausted. Go on," she urged. RC gave in, and walked tiredly to the bedroom, collapsing next to her daughter.

Deciding that her two guests would probably be out for a while, after the events they'd gone through, Kris slipped quietly from her quarters, and walked purposefully across the field.

Jenkins intercepted her. Unintentionally, mind you, but he was in her way, nonetheless.

"Jenkins," she called, and he turned towards her, beginning to approach her.

"Yes?" he asked, realizing too late she now outranked him and he was supposed to come to attention when he spoke to her.

Kris saw her opening, and took it in an instant. The man had been on her tail so often for the littlest detail, especially when she was a rank below him, it was her turn.

"Attention!" she called. The soldier hesitated, and then obeyed, halfheartedly. Kris jumped at the chance to correct him. No one was around, so he didn't have to worry about anyone walking in on his little lesson in obedience.

"What the hell was that, soldier?!" she cried. "When I call you to attention, I want your heels together, feet 45º apart, back straight, chest out, shoulders back, chin forward, thumbs along your trouser seam, and eyes straight ahead! And I want it done right away, is that understood?" Kris was talking to him like she did her recruits, and she was loving every moment of it.

"Yes, ma'am," said Jenkins, looking down, embarrassed.

"Face forward!" she commanded, and he brought his head back up. "I said your eyes should be straight ahead, soldier! You're not looking at the ground, you're not looking at the sky… you're not even looking at me. Unless I call eyeballs, your eyeballs stay looking forward, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." The Sergeant's face was red with anger and embarrassment at the treatment, but he knew he had to obey.

"Now, let's see if you can follow orders," she said. "Parade rest!" The man stepped to the side with his left foot, and placed his hands behind his back. Kris walked around him, inspecting his position. "Attention!" she called, and he clicked his heels together as he straightened up. "Parade rest!" Jenkins obeyed.

Kris grinned. She knew she'd get him with the next command. "Atten - as you were!" she said, correcting herself in mid-call. As she expected, the man sprung to attention, before kicking himself when he realized what he'd done.

"Don't anticipate my orders," she began. "Are you the commanding officer?"

"No, ma'am," responded the soldier.

"What? I expect you to sound off, soldier!"

"Ma'am, no, ma'am!" repeated Jenkins, louder.

"No, what?" questioned Kris, and Jenkins knew what she wanted.

"No, Staff Sergeant!"

Kris nodded. "Good," she said. "Now, drop and give me twenty, until you can prove you know how to address your superior officers."

"Yes, ma'am," said Jenkins, dropping to the ground and counting, "One, Staff Sergeant… Two, Staff Sergeant…" as he did his pushups. Kris walked around the man's form, correcting him each time he didn't go down far enough.

"Come on, Jenkins!" she cried, kneeling so they were nearly on the same eye level. "My grunts can do better than you. Let's go! And up… down… up… down," she coached, making sure he did each movement smoothly. By the time she was satisfied, he had done thirty-two pushups, but Kris only counted twenty of them.

"20, Staff Sergeant!" Jenkins said, holding himself in the "up" position, until he was told he could stand.

"Recover," said Jones, and Jenkins jumped to his feet. "Very good, Sergeant. You are dismissed." Saluting her, Kris returned the gesture, since Jenkins couldn't lower his arm until she'd done so, and he turned on his heel, storming away.

She figured he might complain to the Captain again, but knew nothing would come of it, besides maybe another talk. It wasn't like she'd humiliated him - no one had seen them. Feeling a little better, having gotten that off her chest, she continued on her way across the compound. Finding the door she wanted, the soldier knocked brusquely.

"Just a second!" came the reply, and in a moment, the door opened, revealing a redheaded woman, who immediately sprang to attention, despite the fact that all she had on was a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

"Ma'am!" she said, quickly.

Kris laughed. "At ease, Robin," she said, and the woman stepped back, surprised by the use of her first name. "Listen, I need some help."

"What can I do for you?" asked the woman, inviting her Sergeant inside. For the great Staff Sergeant Jones to ask for help, Robin Harold knew it had to be important.

"I have company," explained Kris, "and I need to know what to get for a three-year-old."

Robin raised an eyebrow at her superior officer, and smiled. Just about everyone knew of the woman's lifestyle, so she knew she'd be justified in her assumption. "Kid of a girlfriend, hm?" she guessed, and the slight flush on the woman's cheeks proved the truth of her statement, even if Kris denied it.

"No, just the daughter a friend," she said, and Robin nodded.

"Hm… three, huh?" Kris knew she had been right in going to Robin, who was the mother of four kids, varying in ages. "How about a stuffed animal? Kids love stuffed animals at just about any age, especially girls."

"I'll try it," said the soldier. "Thanks, Robin. Behave with Jenkins, hm?"

"Yes, ma'am," sighed the soldier, rolling her eyes. Kris laughed, and left with a smile on her face. Now, where to get a stuffed animal…

The other customers of the supermarket gave the soldier strange looks as she walked in, still dressed in her dirty fatigues and soiled combat boots. But Kris didn't care what anyone else thought - she was on a mission.

"Excuse me," she said, to a young employee as he passed by, "where're your stuffed animals?"

The boy laughed out loud, until there were tears in his eyes. "You want to know where the toys are?" he asked, and Kris glared at him.

"I don't think I stuttered," she said, raising herself up to her full height, and the boy quickly swallowed his laughter.

"Aisle 4," he said, pointing in the same direction, and Kris smiled.

"Thanks," she said, patting his back a little harshly as she walked past. Turning onto aisle four, the soldier was bombarded with stuffed animals of every kind. She found blue elephants, white elephants, even purple elephants. Not to mention big bunnies, small pink bunnies, bunnies that laughed when you tickled them, and whose ears you could position. Then there were dogs, cats, horses, gorillas, and more toys that the soldier could have imagined.

Good God, thought Kris. I found the stuffed animals, now what the hell am I supposed to do? Well, soldier, you want to impress both girls, don't you? You know what that means… Yep, I think it's time to ask for more help, she decided.

"Excuse me, ma'am," said Kris, to an elderly woman who was wearing the store's apron.

"Can I help you with something?" she replied, kindly.

"Well, I'm here to get a stuffed animal," she explained, "but I walked into an ambush!" The older woman laughed. "I need one for a three-year-old, and her mother."

The employee nodded. "I think I can help you," she said. "I have grandchildren of my own at home, and my granddaughter just loves this." Holding up a small turquoise rabbit with a white belly, about a foot high including its ears, the woman laughed at the small carrot it held in its paws.

"Thanks," said Kris, holding the small toy in her hand. "Now I just need one for her mother."

The old woman stopped to think a moment. "Teddy bears are popular for the young ladies," she said, at last, and picked out a small white bear, with a cute black nose that Kris just knew Ryanne would like.

"Is there anything else?" asked the woman, and Kris shook her head.

"No, thank you very much," she said. "Have a nice day." The woman smiled, and walked away to find another customer to help, while the soldier paid for her purchases. Kris went back to the base, and entered her room quietly, trying not to let the plastic bag rustle anymore than she could help. She didn't want either guest to wake up, and hoped the gifts would be a surprise.

Satisfied that the two were still asleep, by the two different snores that were coming from her bedroom, Kris set the white stuffed bear on the table where it would be clearly visible. Smiling to herself, Jones could just imagine the smile that would grace Ryanne's face when she saw the bear.

She deserves something after all she's been through, Kris thought. It's the least I can do to bring a little happiness into her life. And Cassidy's…

Kris took the rabbit with her, slipping it behind a pillow on the couch. The soldier wanted to surprise the youngster herself, when the time was right.

Kris grabbed a few rags, some polish, a small container of water, and sat down on the sofa. Taking off her boots, the soldier placed her hand inside, and wiped most of the dirt off with one rag, soaked one corner in water, and wiped the rest of the mud away. Adding polish to the dry portion, she rubbed in on in small circles over the leather boots, and then buffed it to a nice polish with the clean cloth.

Cleaning her boots was a ritual Kris did every night, whether she was at the base or not. It was something she had gotten used to, and it often helped calm her down, as she focused solely on the task at hand.

An hour later, when both boots were shining brilliantly, Kris got up to check on her guests. It had been two hours since they had fallen asleep, and the soldier grinned when she noticed both were still snoring away. Cassidy was snuggled closely into her mother's side, and Ryanne had her arm around her daughter, protectively.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Kris crept into the room, and deposited feather-light kisses on the forehead of them both. The tall soldier held her breath, her heart pounding against her chest, when Cassidy stirred in her sleep, but relaxed when the girl did not wake.

Picking up the phone, Kris ordered a pizza, and got only cheese and pepperoni, unlike her usual "garbage" pizza, with everything except anchovies, because the soldier wasn't sure what Cassidy would eat, but seemed to recall that kids usually liked cheese and pepperoni on their pizzas.

Jones, why are you so concerned about them? her mind questioned. She had never acted this way before. Usually it's 'you eat what I've got or go hungry', not 'let me get something you'll like'. Why the change for Ryanne?

Because I fell in love with her the first time I saw her smile, she replied, and, when the soldier went back over her response, she realized it was true. Ryanne's smile had captured her heart, and the tall soldier would do anything for her and Cassidy.

A knock on the door startled her from her thoughts, and Kris realized she had been thinking about Ryanne and her smile for more than twenty minutes! Shaking her head, she opened the door and paid the pizza delivery boy quickly, taking the box inside and setting it on the small table in front of the couch.

No need to sit at the kitchen table, the soldier decided, when they could sit on the floor and she'd have a much better chance of getting close to the blonde.

"Mm," said a voice, "I smell pizza!" Kris glanced up to see Ryanne standing in the doorway, smiling sleepily.

"Good morning," said Kris, sarcastically, and she smiled as Ryanne indignantly put her hands on her hips.

"And just whose idea was it for me to take a nap in the first place?" the blonde demanded, smiling.

"There's a friend for you on the kitchen table," hinted Kris, biting back her smile of expectation. She was not prepared for the blur of blonde she saw, nor for the intense hug that nearly bowled her over. Had she not been sitting down, she'd have been knocked to the ground.

"I take it you like it," laughed the soldier, putting her arms around the blonde as she returned the hug.

"I love it!" she said. "He's so cute, Kris!" Kris' smile was genuine, as was Ryanne's joy. "You didn't have to get me anything," she protested, ever polite.

Kris just grinned, and couldn't resist the urge to brush a lock of Ryanne's hair away from her face. "You deserve it," she said. "Just think of him as a part of me. Take him wherever you go, and we'll never be apart."

The last part slipped out before she could stop it. Crap! "I mean, I'll always be there for you," she covered, quickly.

"Thanks," said Ryanne, softly, petting the bear's fur absentmindedly.

So, all you want is friendship, Kris, thought Ryanne, sadly. Well, I'll take what I can get from the tough soldier in front of me.

"You hungry?" asked Kris, and Ryanne nodded, helping herself to a few pieces of pizza. "God, woman, don't you eat?" asked the soldier, and Ryanne blushed, before staring the tall woman down, defiantly.

"It happens to be a habit of mine, yes," she said, seriously, before bursting out laughing when her serious facade crumbled.

Their laughter, and the smell of food, woke Cassidy up, and she walked into the living room, stuffed elephant in her hand, and dragging her blanket behind her.

"Hi, sweetheart," said Ryanne, opening her arms to the young girl, who instead climbed up in Kris' lap, startling the soldier immensely.

"Hi, Cassidy," she said, calming her racing heart. "I'm Kris." The girl nodded, as if that was obvious. "Hey, I got something for you, little one." The green eyes perked up immediately. "Do you wanna see it?" An anxious nod. Reaching behind her back, Kris withdrew the rabbit, and smiled broadly as the little girl's eyes sparkled with delight.

Kris met the blonde waitress' eyes, and Ryanne gave her a warm smile, and mouthed, "Thank you." The soldier just nodded, and wrapped her arms around the young girl as she introduced rabbit to elephant.

Cassidy ate a few pieces of pizza, earning Ryanne a jib from Kris about never feeding her child, before curling up in the strong soldier's arms, and falling fast asleep, a turquoise rabbit in one hand, and a pink elephant in the other.

Kris smiled as she draped the girl's blanket over her, but made no attempt at letting the child go.

"Do you want me to take her?" asked Ryanne, although she was enjoying the cute sight in front of her. The picture that Kris made with Cassidy asleep in her arms was just too precious.

The soldier shook her head. "No, she's fine," she said, and then admitted something to the blonde. "In case you couldn't tell, it scared me to death when she came over to me. I've never been real good with kids," she confessed, and Ryanne smiled, gently.

"You seem to be doing just fine with her," she said, softly, nodding to her daughter. "Kris, have you ever been around children before?" The tall soldier shook her head. "Then how do you know you're not good with them?"

She shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "I just always feel like they're so small and I'm gonna break them or something."

It was clear the woman was a little uncomfortable by the idea, so Ryanne put a hand on the soldier's arm, lightly. "Once they get past the age of about six months, you don't really have to worry about breaking them. Then you get to worry about them breaking themselves!" she said, and Kris smiled.

"I'm sure my own mother understood that concept very well," said Kris. "She's always said I was falling out of trees and jumping off of anything that was taller than me since before I was old enough to run."

"Do you keep in touch with your mother? I'm sure she's a wonderful lady," said Ryanne, smiling softly.

Kris shook her head. "No," she said. "My mother and I haven't been on speaking terms for quite a long time."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said the blonde, quietly. "Maybe you should try to get back together, on better terms." Kris raised an eyebrow at her. "My own mother died when I was a teenager, and we weren't on the best of terms, and now I regret it. Put whatever it was behind you, and try again," she urged.

The soldier shook her head, standing to take Cassidy to bed. "It's just not that simple, Ryanne," she said. Placing her small bundle gently under the covers, Ryanne watched with a smile as the tall woman tucked her daughter in, snugly, and then kissed her good night.

"How about some TV?" the soldier asked, not wanting to delve into her private life any further. She was not one to talk about herself much, and, as it was, had done more talking in the past 24 hours on behalf of a small blonde, than in the last year of her life.

"What's on?" asked the waitress, taking a seat on the couch while Kris sat in the chair, sensing that the soldier didn't want to talk about her family life anymore. The tall woman tossed her the TV listings, and let the blonde choose. Jones was not surprised when, by the end of the movie, the blonde was sound asleep on the couch. Smiling, she gently covered the woman with a blanket, and then sat there for a moment, just watching Ryanne sleep.

Reaching out a hand, the tall soldier lovingly ran her fingers through the blonde's short hair, and then placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Sleep well, Ryanne," she whispered, before walking into her own bedroom, and trying to figure out how to climb into bed without bothering her young bed mate.

Chapter Four

Stretching out along the thin edge of the bed that was not taken up by sprawling three-year-old limbs, Kris gently scooted the child over so neither of them would fall off the bed, and then surprised herself by allowing the child to cuddle into her side. Kissing the crown of the girl's head, Kris gave her a whispered good night, and then fell asleep, as if holding a youngster in her arms while she slept was the most natural thing in the world for the tall soldier.

When in fact, she was scared to death. The first one to wake the next morning, Kris cracked an eye open, hoping against hope she hadn't crushed the girl in the course of the night. To her pleasant surprise, Cassidy was still curled up into her side, but now rested her head under Kris' chin, and was holding on to a bunch of the soldier's T-shirt with her little fist.

The girl shifted, and ended up with her head resting on the woman's shoulder, just above her breast, as Cassidy did with her mother. There was a grin on Kris' face when she looked up, and saw Ryanne standing in the doorway, smiling just as warmly.

"That is too cute," she said, her voice low, and snickered when the soldier blushed. "You know, you could have woken me up, and told me to sleep in here with her, so you could have had the couch to yourself. Or, you could've brought her out to the couch, so you could have your bed," said the waitress.

Kris shrugged. "This is fine," she said. "As long as you don't mind." The blonde shook her head; seeing her daughter and the woman she cared for (so soon? she couldn't explain it either) snuggled up in bed together made her heart skip a beat - of course she didn't mind! "Did you sleep well?" asked the soldier, and Ryanne smiled.

"Just fine," she replied. "How about you?"

"Pretty good," was the answer. "I hate to have to get up, but my squad should be arriving in the field soon."

"I thought you said your guys were going under another Sergeant?" asked Ryanne, confused.

"They are," affirmed Kris, gently sliding out from under the small child, who continued to sleep soundly, much to the soldier's relief. "I'm getting new recruits today."

"Would we interfere if we wandered out onto the field to watch?" Ryanne asked, and Kris hid her smile. "Cassidy seems to like the uniforms."

"As long as you don't distract my men, you're welcome to it," said the soldier, as she laced up her boots. "I'll be in the same place I was yesterday, working on drilling and physical exercise, and then we'll take a quick run around the compound, before breaking for lunch around noon or one. After that, it's more drilling and exercise," she explained. "So, if you want to find us, we'll probably be around the obstacle course, okay?"

Ryanne nodded. "Thanks," she said, and gave the soldier a bright smile before she walked out the door.

Kris took a deep breath as she shut the door behind her; if Ryanne's smile was going to get to her like that every morning, she'd have to start drinking more coffee if she wanted to be able to think straight! The woman's smile went right to her heart, and the soldier hoped she wouldn't have trouble concentrating on her men, especially if the blonde and her daughter decided to watch them work.

I'll be damned if I'm going to get caught staring at her instead of drilling the grunts, and then have to explain myself to the Captain, she thought. Focus, Jones, just remember to focus… and not on her!

Striding out onto the field, Kris eyed her new group, wryly. They seemed to be younger than the others, and they were certainly green. All were men, and a few were overweight, while she doubted others weighed 98 pounds fully clothed and soaking wet.

"Fall in!" she cried, as she came to stand in front of the soldiers, who were dressed in fatigues, but messing around with each other. Two men continued to joke around in line, and Kris walked right up to them, noticing with pleasure that she towered over them both.

"Do you boys have trouble following orders?" she asked, and they stared at her. "Attention!" she barked, and Kris found they could at least follow that command. "This is not the academy, boys! Frankly, I'm surprised half of you even made it here.

"First thing's first, boys and girls," she said, knowing full well the entire squad was male. "I am Staff Sergeant Kris Jones, and if I ask you a question or give you a command, you will respond with "Ma'am, yes, ma'am" or "Ma'am, no, ma'am". Is that understood?" she demanded, and raised an eyebrow when only two or three soldiers out of the two dozen replied.

"I said, is that understood?" she repeated, and the whole lot of them said, "Ma'am, yes, ma'am".

"For crying out loud, people. Volume is the key. If the Captain can't hear my squad all the way across the compound, then there's a problem. Now, I'll ask you one more time, and I'm only giving you this chance today, because you're new. Do you understand how you will respond?" she ordered, and an echo of "Ma'am, yes, ma'am" was heard throughout the practice field.

"That's better," she said, and moved to stand in front of them all. "If you see me around the base, you will refer to me as Sergeant Jones, or Sergeant. I don't need all that Staff bull, it's too long of a title," she said. "One more thing… you all remember the training I hope most of you did to prepare for this, right? And how much Hell it was?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" they shouted, and she chuckled.

"Well, that's gonna look like a walk in the park by the time I'm done with you." Several gulps could be heard, as the soldiers watched their new commander with wide eyes. "Now, I'd like to know your names, but I'm not going to walk around and read everyone's name tag. So, when I say "Call ranks", starting from the far left, my right, you'll say your name. For example, I'd say, "Kris Jones, ma'am!" Understand?" she asked, and the affirmative reply sounded in her ears as she smiled.

"All right, grunts. Call ranks!" she ordered.

"Michael Peters, ma'am!" said the first soldier.

"Robert Thompson, ma'am!" said the second, and the men went down the line, screaming their names at their commanding officer, who looked on, approvingly. When all 25 were finished, Kris walked through the lines, adjusting each man's stance.

"Parker, where's your cover?" she demanded of a soldier, when she noticed he was the only one without his cap on.

"Ma'am, I forgot it, ma'am!" he answered.

"You forgot it," repeated Kris, exasperated. "Well, that's just wonderful, soldier. You know what? You remind me of the old transient that walks around the streets with a sheet of tin foil over his head, because he says if he doesn't wear it, the aliens are gonna come and suck out his brains."

Taking the man's hand, she placed it on top of his head, and said, "We don't want the aliens to come and eat your brains, Parker, so you just keep your hand like that for the rest of the day. You tell me if you start to feel like your brains are leaking, understand?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," said the highly humiliated soldier.

Finally, when all were standing at perfect attention, Parker with his hand obediently on his head, she said, "Now that I've got you all prim and proper, we're gonna take a nice little run in the dirt. See that obstacle course over there? You're going to get to know it upside-down, inside-out, and backwards. You'll be able to do it with your eyes closed," she said, and heard the man named Thompson groan.

"Do you have a problem with that, soldier?" she asked, demanding it right in his ear, and the man shook his head a little.

"Ma'am, no, ma'am!" he replied, and then took a breath as though to say something else, but decided against it.

"Do you have something else to say to me, Thompson?"

"I was just trying to figure out how we were going to do that obstacle course upside-down, ma'am," he responded, and Kris raised an eyebrow at him.

"Funny man, huh?" she asked, and the man nodded.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," he replied, causing Kris' eyebrow to go up even further.

"Well, you're an extremely lucky man, Thompson," said Kris. "Because I'm in a good mood today, and I like you. Otherwise, you'd be on the ground counting out pushups until you puke for a remark like that. Understand?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," swallowed the soldier, wisely deciding that his humor was of better use elsewhere, than on his commanding officer who could run him ragged.

"Anyone else have a comment they'd like to make before we start?" she demanded, and got a resounding, "Ma'am, no, ma'am!". "That's what I thought. Okay, grunts, make a straight line behind Peters, here." The men quickly formed the row. "When I say go, one of you will run through the course. No one else goes until I say so, understand? I don't care if you've been standing there for an hour, and you've got sweat pouring off of you, and your nose is itching like crazy. You don't move until I tell you to, is that clear?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" they cried.

"Okay. Now, Peters, go!" she commanded, and the man took off, agilely making it through the tires on the ground and under the logs and wire, but getting stuck at the wall, as most new recruits did. Despite the slight bulge of muscles that were visible through the small man's outfit, Peters was only 5'5'', he was unable to make it over the top, and fell to the ground.

"Come on, Peters, grab the robe and pull yourself up the wall. You can do it, soldier. Don't let that wall beat you!" she insisted, and grinned to herself when the man scrambled over the wall, dropping to the ground on the other side, rolling to his feet.

Once Peters was through, Kris went back to the line to check on her men, telling Peters to take a breather and have a drink of water from his canteen. Walking over to a soldier who seemed to be fidgeting in line, Kris glanced at his name tag.

"Brown, is it?" she asked, and the man nodded.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" he replied.

"Do you have a problem, soldier?"

"There's a deer fly flying around my head, ma'am," he said. "It's trying to bite me," he added.

Kris raised an eyebrow at him. "Then it must be hungry, huh?" she responded. "I told you not to move, and I meant it. You let that fly bite the hell out of you if it feels like it. You've had breakfast, now it's his turn. Don't move, understand?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" said Brown, sounding loud but dejected.

"All right. Thompson, let's go, you're next!" Kris commanded, and the man took off on the same path as Peters, faring much better.

Ryanne wandered out, Cassidy in her arms, as the soldier was clambering over the wall. He landed well, and rolled to his feet, but had some trouble with the second set of logs, which he had to pull himself across.

"Come on, Thompson," said Kris, not noticing her audience yet. "You made it over the wall, don't let these hunks of firewood stop you! Pull!" she cried. With a burst of energy, the man finished with the logs, and completed the rest of the course with ease.

"Good, good," she said. "Take some water and then go to the back of the line."

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," responded Thompson, a little out of breath.

"You all seem to be having trouble," said Kris, walking up and down the ranks, pleased when the soldiers all kept their heads forward, even when she was talking right next to them. "How'd you like to see an example of how it's supposed to be done?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" they all shouted, and Kris grinned.

"All right," she agreed. "Maybe I'll break the base record in the process, hm? Somebody time me."

"I've got it, ma'am," said one soldier, holding up his watch.

"Thanks, soldier," she said. "On my mark. Ready…" Doing a few quick stretches to loosen her muscles, Kris said, "Mark!" and took off through the course. She went through the tires, under the logs and the wire, over the wall, over the logs, climbed up the rope, ran through the swinging punching bags without being hit once, and finished by surprising the hell out of everyone and running up the wall to touch the flag, instead of using the rope, before doing a flip in mid-air and landing on her feet.

Sounds of applause filled her ears, as the soldiers clapped for her. "Time?" she demanded, and the soldier looked at his watch, disbelieving.

"One minute, six seconds, ma'am," he replied, shocked.

"The Captain's record just got beat," she said, smugly. "All right, grunts. Now that you know how to do it, I shouldn't see anyone else getting stuck, right?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" they replied.

"Good," smiled Kris. "Grant, you're up." The soldier took off, having some trouble but never giving up, and received a pat on the back when he finished. "Next!" called the Sergeant, as Grant went to the back of the line.

The last man in line, Jeff York, if Kris remembered correctly, had a lot of problems with the entire course, but he refused to admit defeat. For the first time that day, Kris didn't say a word to the young man, she let him battle the obstacles on his own. It took him a long time, a good five minutes, but he finished, and earned a smile from his Sergeant.

"Good job, York," she said. "You never stopped trying, that's very good." As she led him to his place in line, the soldier noticed Ryanne and Cassidy for the first time. Sparing the two a quick smile, she turned back to her men. "Okay, boys. That obstacle course took longer than expected, and it's lunch time. We'll do a few minutes of drilling, and then I'll dismiss you for half an hour.

"Attention!" she called, and they all stood rigid. "Parade rest!" All in perfect sync, 25 bodies performed the command, to Kris' approval. "Attention! Right face!" Going on with small commands for ten minutes, Kris called them back to attention, in order to dismiss them for lunch.

When the order was on the tip of her tongue, she felt a hand tug on her pant leg. Glancing down with a raised eyebrow, she held back a smile when she saw Cassidy standing there, looking up at her with bright green eyes.

Doing a quick survey for the Captain, and not spotting him, Kris kneeled down next to the child, and said, "Hey, sweetheart. How would you like to be Junior Sergeant?" The girl nodded, enthusiastically. "All right. Face the men, like this," instructed Kris, and the girl mimicked her stance exactly.

"Now, we have to salute them before they can leave. Dismissed!" she called, and the entire company saluted their Sergeant, and turned to go. "Hold it," she said, "fall in again." Twenty-five men returned to their places. "Salute again," she ordered, and arms were raised to their positions.

Kris nearly fell over laughing when she noticed how the girl was saluting her soldiers - instead of placing the edge of her right index finger against her right eyebrow, as she was supposed to, the girl was completely covering her right eye with her hand, smiling at the men as she did.

The tall soldier thought it was too cute to pass up on an opportunity. "Salute Sergeant!" she called, and the men saluted her. "Salute Junior Sergeant!" The men glanced down at Cassidy, and paid their respects to her. But not correctly.

"No, I said salute Junior Sergeant. That means salute her as she's saluting you!" commanded Kris, and 25 hands covered their eyes. "Very good. Now, you're dismissed for lunch." About-facing, the men walked off the practice field, before bursting into laughter.

Smiling down at the young girl, Kris picked her up into her arms, and gave her a hug. "Oh, Cassidy, you are one of a kind, sweetheart," she said. Placing the girl on her hip, Kris walked over to where Ryanne was standing, looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry she bothered you, Kris," said Ryanne, reaching for her daughter.

Kris just grinned, and shifted the girl's weight a little, but did not hand her over. "Oh, it's all right, she didn't bother me. She helped me find out that the men will follow any order I give them, no matter how silly it makes them look. Isn't that right, Cassidy?" The girl nodded.

"Hey, I've got an idea!" Cassidy watched the soldier intently. "If it's okay with your mother, do you want to go through the obstacle course with me? I could use a partner," she added, and the child looked at her mother, a hopeful grin on her face.

"As long as you're sure she won't get hurt," said Ryanne, and Kris had to hold herself back from kissing the woman's forehead at the love she showed for her daughter.

"She'll be right next to me the whole time," said Kris. "I'll protect her. Come on, Cassidy," she said, offering her hand to the youngster as she set her on the ground. Walking hand-in-hand, soldier and child walked to the course.

Ryanne watched with undisguised pride as Kris picked Cassidy up, and set her down in each of the tires, since the girl's legs were not long enough to step through them on her own. Then, crawling on their bellies, Kris waited patiently, since Cassidy had to crawl three times the distance for every one of Kris' advancements.

The blonde couldn't hear what Kris was saying, but she was pointing to the barbed wire above them, and then sucking on the tip of her finger as though she had injured it. The child's eyes got big, and she nodded.

By the time the two returned, Cassidy was completely covered in dirt, but smiling. A dirt covered Kris whispered something in the girl's ear, and she giggled, nodding at the soldier.

Reaching a dirty hand out to her mother, Cassidy laughed when she smeared dirt all over Ryanne's hand. Kris did the same with Ryanne's opposite hand, smirking at the look on the woman's face. Cassidy wrapped her arms around her mother in a dusty hug, and Kris followed suit, wrapping her arms around the woman and covering her white T-shirt with dust.

When the young girl placed a grimy kiss on her mother's cheek, Kris leaned in to do the same, but caught herself, and pulled back.

That was close, she thought.

"Well, I've still got a few minutes left for lunch. I'm sure you girls are hungry," said the soldier, and laughed when Ryanne slapped her arm, playfully. "We can go back to my quarters and reheat that pizza if you want."

Both Cassidy and Ryanne seemed extremely enticed by that offer, so Kris declared a race back to her quarters. Taking Cassidy in her arms, she took off, Ryanne not far behind her. The small blonde beat the soldier by a few seconds, and laughed her way into the room, collapsing on the couch, a smile on her face.

"I won!" she exclaimed, and Kris walked in behind her, setting Cassidy on the floor.

"Hey, Cassidy," she said, and motioned for the girl to come closer so she could whisper in her ear. "Is your mother ticklish?" she asked, and the girl smiled, nodding.

"You may have won the battle…" said Kris, reaching out for Ryanne's stomach with both hands, tickling her until she fell off the couch.

"Okay, okay," she said, giggling uncontrollably, "I give! You win, you win." Kris laughed, and sat back on her heels to allow the woman to catch her breath. "You don't play fair," she pouted, the smile betraying her.

"I never play fair," said Kris, lowering her voice an octave. Realizing how much that sounded like a playful come-on, the soldier quickly got to her feet, and started fixing lunch for Cassidy.

Was I flirting with her?? she thought, surprised at herself. My God, I haven't flirted in… well, I've never flirted! The one woman I don't want to express my feelings to, I'm flirting with. Soldier, get a hold of yourself!

A small hand on her arm brought her out of her thoughts. "What is it, sweetheart?" asked Kris, the endearment seeming natural, although she had never used the term before in her life. Cassidy held up two fingers.

"You want two pieces of pizza?" The child nodded. "Okay, little one. Take this in to your mother, and yours will be ready when you come back," she said, handing the girl a plate with three pieces of the leftover pizza on it.

Moments later, the girl came rushing back in, looking expectantly at the tall soldier, who laughed. "Here you go," she said, giving the girl her plate, and then following the youngster into the living room, where Ryanne was busy devouring the last piece on her plate.

"You sure don't waste any time, do you?" asked Kris, grinning as the remark earned her a punch in the arm.

"Not when it comes to food," the blonde responded.

"Well, I've got to run," said the soldier, saving her last piece of pizza for later that night. "You guys are welcome to come back out again, if you'd like," she added, as she rushed out the door, kissing Cassidy on the top of her head as she left. She didn't know why she did it; it just seemed right.

As the soldier walked back out to the field, she realized her men were already assembled there. When they saw her approaching, they immediately fell into their ranks, and stood at attention.

"I'm impressed," she commented, raising an eyebrow at their obedience. "Ready for more fun, grunts? Let's get a move on!" she said, cheerfully, as she led them in the next phase of their workouts.

Chapter Five

Ryanne washed her hands, and wished she could change clothes, since hers were now covered in dirt, but decided to wait until she could let Kris know she was going to leave the base. Maybe the woman would watch Cassidy for a while, while she was gone; the tall soldier seemed to get along well with the girl.

Which was something that surprised the blonde. She'd expected the soldier to be hard and strict with children, but she seemed to be very kind and gentle with Cassidy. And the picture soldier and child made was absolutely adorable to the waitress.

Cassidy had startled her by going to the soldier first, rather than her mother, the child never being one for strangers, but maybe Cassidy could tell a gentleness around the woman, and trusted her. The girl sure did like being around Kris, and Ryanne was almost positive the feeling was mutual.

A small hand tugged on her arm. "What, sweetheart?" asked Ryanne, kneeling to be eye-to-eye with her daughter. The girl pointed to the door, and then stood at attention as well as she was able. Ryanne laughed. "Do you want to go watch Kris some more?" Cassidy nodded. "Me, too. Come on," she said, offering the girl her hand, which she took eagerly.

Mother and daughter walked out to the practice field, where Kris was stretching out with her men, preparing them for a run.

"Now, it's gonna be hot as Hell," she warned, "but that's why you should all have canteens with you. I don't think we'll go that far, and if any of you need water, don't slow your pace, but go ahead and take a sip. I don't want anyone passing out on me, okay?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" was heard, as the soldiers touched their toes and loosened their muscles.

"Good. Let's go," she said. "We'll start out with a slow march, and then I'll pick up the pace. You guys keep up with my cadence, and you'll do fine. Forward, march!" Jones commanded, and led the men at a pace of 120 steps per minute, calling "Left, right, left, right, left, oho hey right," so it almost sounded like she was singing. The beat helped the men stay in step, and she picked up the pace to 180 steps, before breaking into what was more of a slow jog.

"Thompson!" she called.

"Ma'am?"

"You know any Jody calls, soldier?" the tall woman asked.

"Ma'am, a few, ma'am!"

"Well, get out here and keep this gaggle of maggots in step," she ordered, and the man fell out to beside the ranks, making sure he was in step before beginning.

"Left… left… left, right… right… right, left," he called, so everyone was sure to be in step for the cadence. "Left, left, keep it in step."

"Left, left, keep it in step!" repeated the soldiers in rank, as the sounds echoed through the compound.

"Up in the morning with the hot, hot sun," cried Thompson, and the men beside him repeated the call. "Gonna run all day, 'til the runnin' 's done… We're gonna run five miles or more!… Then turn around, and run five more!"

Ryanne watched the squad follow Jones around the compound, trekking about two miles, she guessed, before coming to rest back at the practice field. Only a few of the men seemed out of breath, and even in full dress, Kris didn't look like she'd even broken a sweat.

"That was good," the Sergeant said, allowing her men to walk around for a minute, gradually slowing their heartbeats. "All right, line it up. Fall in!" she called, and 25 men formed their lines in an instant. "Let's see what you guys remember. Call ranks!"

"Michael Peters, ma'am!" said the first soldier, immediately.

"Robert Thompson, ma'am!" said the second.

"Jeffery Winston, ma'am!" continued the third man in line, and Kris grinned as the men obeyed her order, calling out their names. Jones made a mental note to ask her friend, and fellow Staff Sergeant, Neil Winston, if Jeffery was related to him. So far Jeff seemed to be a good man, and if he was anything like Neil, he'd be a great soldier.

When silence fell upon the field again, Kris walked up and down through the lines, assessing their stances. Taking two steps forward, she'd come to a halt, right- or left-face, and then inspect whichever soldier she was standing in front of.

"Head up," she said, noticing that Winston's stance was a little off. "Heels together. Keep your chest out, soldier." She rattled off a list of things he needed to fix on his uniform, shining his boots, sewing a tear in his sleeve, and so on.

The man sighed. "Yes, ma'am," he said, tiredly.

"Do you have a problem, soldier?" she demanded, sensing defiance.

"It just seems that you're being especially hard on me, ma'am," he explained.

Kris raised an eyebrow at him. "Is it my fault that the other two I've inspected so far have been in better form than you, Winston?" she called, asking the question as she leaned into his ear. "If I notice more defects on you, I'm going to get on your ass more than the others, understand?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," he said, and Kris noticed he still sounded exasperated.

"Soldier, are you related to Staff Sergeant Neil Winston?"

"He's my brother, ma'am," he confirmed.

"I suggest you talk to him about how to polish your boots, and how to take a commanding officer's orders," she said, sharply, before turning away from him, and moving on to Ling, the next in line.

Ryanne was amazed that this hard, strict, and often severe soldier was the same woman who had fixed her lunch, and held her daughter in a safe embrace all night long. She seemed like two different people.

The waitress recalled the soldier's words a few days before. Yeah, I can be a hard ass, but only because my job calls for it. RC realized the woman was right.

A few minutes later, when the surprise inspection was completed, Kris stood in front of her company, scanning them with her eyes. They all seemed to be pretty eager to learn, and willing to exercise and follow orders.

"Now, the next time I decide to call a surprise inspection, I expect all of you to be in better form than I saw today," she said. "All that I mentioned should be taken care of. Is that understood?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," they called. Kris worked them hard until dark, giving them various orders to follow. Whenever one of them screwed up, they would all have to drop to the ground and do pushups until she told them to stop.

"This might seem unfair to some of you," she said, as the men were counting out their pushups, Winston having turned left rather than right when she'd called right face. "But it builds teamwork, and you all need to learn to rely on each other, as well as yourselves. Talk to the men around you, let them know when they're doing something wrong, so you can help them fix it. If you don't, we'll be doing this for a long time.

"All right," she said. "Recover." The men jumped to their feet, breathing hard. "It's just about too dark to see out here, and I don't feel like working with you grunts any later, and having to turn the lights on. So, you're all dismissed until 0600 tomorrow." They all saluted her, about-faced, and walked off the field, sore, and unhappy about having to be out on the field again at 6:00 the next morning.

"Hi," grinned the soldier, upon seeing that Cassidy and Ryanne were still there. They'd left earlier, to get something to eat, but returned as soon as they were done. While Kris wasn't used to having an audience, she didn't mind having the blonde around, and sensing her gentle presence with her all day.

Ryanne smiled. "Hi," she replied. Cassidy smiled up at the tall woman, and Kris picked her up into her arms.

"Hey, pip-squeak," she said, and the girl laughed. "Well, did you have fun watching me make the guys work?" Cassidy nodded, and Kris chuckled. "It's a lot of hard work, though. You wanna learn?" The girl agreed, happily, and Kris glanced at Ryanne.

The blonde thought about it for a moment, before deciding that Kris probably wouldn't be as hard on the girl as she was the soldiers, and nodded. "Okay, I guess," she said. "Just go easy on her."

Kris raised an eyebrow at her. "Huh-uh," she said, smiling as she carried the girl in her arms. "My Junior Sergeant and her mother are going to have to be just as disciplined as my men."

Ryanne cracked a grin. "Junior Sergeant and her mother?" she asked.

Kris nodded. "You didn't think I was letting you off that easy, did you?" Ryanne didn't know if she was serious or not, but found out a few minutes later, as they entered the Staff Sergeant's quarters.

"Attention!" she barked. Cassidy immediately stood rigid, and Kris towered over her, correcting her stance. When the girl didn't understand, Kris moved her chin up with her hands, and nudged her heels together with her foot. "That's it," she said, and then turned to Ryanne, who was watching the scene with interest.

"I called you to attention, Cole," she said, and Ryanne flinched; it was the first time Kris had called her anything but "Ryanne". The blonde snapped to attention as she had seen the soldiers do, and Kris seemed pleased.

"Better," she said. "We'll work with a few commands and go slow, since I'm tired, and this is all new for you two." She demonstrated right face, left face, and about face, and then drilled her two students. Cassidy learned quickly, and Kris was pleased with both of them; they both made progress.

"Dismissed," she said, and just waved them off. "You don't have to do anything, just fall out, and relax," she assured, and Cassidy had a huge grin on her face as she gave the startled soldier a big hug.

"You liked that, huh?" The girl nodded. "Good. We can do it whenever you want, okay? But, right now, I'm hungry. You guys already ate, so I'm going to fix myself something, if that's all right." Ryanne smiled, and nodded, as she disentangled her daughter from the limbs of the tall soldier.

"Kris, can I use your phone?" Ryanne asked, and Kris nodded, as she headed towards the kitchen.

"Sure."

The blonde picked up the phone, and dialed seven digits, hoping that her friend would still be awake at 9 o'clock.

"Hello?" answered an alert voice, and Ryanne grinned.

"Hey, Barry," she said.

"RC? Is that you, girlfriend? I haven't heard from you for a month! How've you been?" the man asked, cheerfully. Barry Lincoln was a close friend of Ryanne's, the two having met in a bar, shortly after Cassidy was born. The man was a gentle soul, and loved both blondes like family.

"Yeah, it's me," she confirmed. "Things have been a little hectic. I hate to do this, Barry, but I need a favor."

"Anything, darling," he said, halting his late-night cleaning session to listen more intently. It wasn't often his blonde friend asked for help, so he knew it was serious. "What do you need?"

"I need you to head over to the café for me tomorrow," she said. "I want you to put a sign on the door that says "Closed Until Further Notice". I don't have the time to take care of it right now," she added.

"No problem," said Barry. "What's going on? Are you and Cassidy all right?" He knew the trouble with Daniel, and also knew that Ryanne needed the money she got from her business, so whatever had happened must have been bad.

"Yes, we're fine," she reassured the man. "We're staying with a friend of mine right now, down at the Army base. I don't know how long we can stay, but I have to move - I just can't live there anymore, so close to him." Barry knew who she was talking about. "He tried to take Cassidy the other night, and that's when I came here. I'll probably stop by some time tomorrow to pick up a few things, and maybe we can get together for a little while," she added.

"That'd be great, RC," said Barry. Ryanne noticed that Kris was the only one who called her Ryanne, instead of her nickname, RC. "You've just got to meet George! He's the most wonderful guy," he gushed.

Ryanne chuckled. "George? What ever happened to Pete?" she asked.

Barry sounded astonished. "Pete?" he repeated. "Girlfriend, Pete is old news. He didn't like Merle Haggard," he explained.

"Oh, of course," said the blonde. "They have to like Merle, don't they?"

"Anyone who doesn't like Merle just isn't worth my time," sighed the man. "Well, excluding you, darling. You're the exception," he amended.

Ryanne laughed. "Thanks," she said. "So, does George like Merle?"

"Loves him," said Barry. "Listen, I've got to go. George is meeting me downstairs in an hour. We're gonna watch sappy old movies at my place and neck like a couple of teenagers," he giggled.

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Have fun, Barry. Just don't break his heart, hm?" she asked.

Barry sighed. "I'll try," he said, heavily. "I'll get that sign made up later, if I have time, and put it up tomorrow morning, all right? And do try to stop by tomorrow, with Cassidy - it's been too long since I've seen my Mouse," he said, using his pet name for the child, which he had adopted since she was "quiet as a mouse".

"Okay," said Ryanne. "Thanks, Barry, I really appreciate it. Bye." Barry echoed the same, and Ryanne hung up the phone with a sigh. That was one less thing she had to worry about; she knew Barry would take care of it, he was a man of his word. At least, when it came to her.

"Everything all right?" asked Kris, finishing the slices of pizza she had reheated for dinner.

Ryanne nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I'll probably take Cassidy with me tomorrow. I'm going over to the house, just to collect a few things, and maybe see an old friend of mine."

Kris shrugged. "Okay," the woman said. "You can leave Cassidy with me, if you don't want to have her around there," she offered.

Ryanne smiled. "Thanks, but my friend Barry wants to see her, too. I think we'll be all right," she said. "It'll only be for a little while," she added.

Again, Kris shrugged, but was silent. She didn't like the idea of Ryanne and Cassidy going back around the same environment that had hurt them, but wouldn't try to convince the blonde otherwise - she knew it wouldn't do any good, and didn't want the woman to suspect that she cared more than she thought she should.

Kris insisted that Ryanne sleep in her bed with Cassidy, Ryanne insisted that Kris should sleep in her own bed, and Cassidy just wanted to sleep with the tall soldier. Finally, the soldier gave in, and let Ryanne sleep on the couch, while she and the young girl took the bed.

The soldier tucked Cassidy in, kissed her forehead, and then walked out to the living room. Staring down at the peaceful face of the slumbering blonde, Kris found herself leaning down, and placing a soft kiss on her forehead, as she had done with her daughter. As she turned back to her room, she saw a small figure dart back to bed, and hurriedly cover up, trying to hide her giggles.

Kris sighed as she climbed in beside the youngster. "You saw that, hm?" she asked, and the girl nodded, smiling. "Well, don't tell your mother, all right? I don't think she'd be very happy with me if she knew I did that." The girl nodded, yawned, and curled up into the soldier's side as she fell asleep.

"Goodnight, pip-squeak," sighed Kris, kissing the girl on the forehead again, wrapping her arm securely around the small form.

Yeah, it'd be great if Cassidy told Ryanne I kissed her, wouldn't it? her mind questioned, as an internal monologue began. Oh, yeah, terrific. She'd say, "Kris, Cassidy says you've been staring at me as I slept, and even kissing me. Is that true?" And I'd probably stand there, my jaw open, stuttering like an idiot. "I, uh, well, uh… damn." Yep, that'd go over real well.

How long do you think it would take her to peel out of the base? Five, six seconds? Kris sighed. Crap. I hate not being able to hold her, and look in her eyes without worrying that she'll see the truth. I don't even know why I've fallen so hard, but I know I'll never feel this way again.

So, what am I gonna do? she asked herself. Do I just stay here and hide my feelings, or do I take a chance, and let her know how I feel? What if she feels the same way? What if she doesn't? What if she stays for a long time? What if she goes home in a few days? What if… The soldier's thoughts ceased as she fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter Six

The next morning, Kris was up at 0530 hours, or 5:30, and jumped in the shower. She wrapped a towel around herself when she got out, and changed into her fatigues which were in her bedroom, making sure the young girl in her bed was still sound asleep before letting the towel fall to the floor.

She dressed quickly, and ate a small breakfast, leaving a note for Ryanne, so she would know she was out on the field if she wanted to stop by. Chancing one last kiss on the blonde's forehead, Kris rushed out the door, and met her men on the field.

Ryanne awoke an hour later, at seven, and laid on the couch for a while, before deciding that her dreams were starting to become more and more similar, and more like reality in the past few days. Since she had been on the base, in Kris' quarters, the young woman had been dreaming that the tall soldier kissed her every night, and then held her in her arms as she slept.

Shaking her head, Ryanne decided it was time to wake Cassidy. To her surprise, when the blonde walked into Kris' bedroom to find her daughter, she saw the youngster slipping on Kris' camouflage jacket.

"Cassidy!" she exclaimed, and the girl turned, startled. "Those are Kris' clothes, sweetheart. Did you ask her if you could try them on?" The girl shook her head, guiltily. "Well, then you need to put them back, okay? They're too big for you, anyway," she added. The jacket sleeves hung down to the floor, and the bottom of the jacket was long enough on the child to touch the floor.

The girl reluctantly agreed, handing them to her mother, since she couldn't reach the hanger herself. She had just snagged a sleeve, and pulled until it fell off the hanger and into her hands.

Ryanne replaced the jacket on the hanger in the closet, and then scooped her daughter up into her arms. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you into the bath, and then I'll take my shower, and then we can go get our things from the house. Maybe we'll even see Barry, do you remember him?" The girl nodded. "Good. Come on."

An hour later, when Ryanne had finished cleaning up the water that had been slopped onto the floor from an exciting splash fight between her and her daughter, the blonde left Kris a quick note, telling her the phone number and address of where she'd be, and about when she'd be back, so the woman wouldn't worry.

Ryanne and Cassidy arrived at their home at 9:30, having stopped for breakfast at McDonald's, and cautiously stepped inside, Ryanne having convinced her daughter to leave her rabbit in the car so she wouldn't lose it. The child didn't go anywhere without the soldier's gift.

When they entered the house, Ryanne was reminded of a tornado. Things were strewn about everywhere, but nothing seemed to be stolen, which was surprising. Cassidy went into her room, to pick out her toys, and Ryanne set out straightening the living room, and choosing pictures she wanted to take with her. She wouldn't take everything, only objects that were important, or had emotional value to her. The rest she would try to sell.

It was almost an hour later when the blonde finished cleaning her home, and had most of her things collected in an old suitcase. She carried the case out to her car, put it in the trunk, and returned to help Cassidy pack her belongings.

Both were startled when they heard a voice bellow, "Bitch! I know you're in here! Come out, and give me my fucking daughter!" Ryanne flinched, and told Cassidy to hide under the bed, while she went out into the living to try and get Daniel to leave.

"She's not here, Daniel," the blonde lied, coming around the corner. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed that the estranged man held a large hunting knife in his hand. "I left her with a friend of mine," she continued, slowly.

"Like Hell you did," he spat. "I know you're lying, because I saw you walk in with her! Now, where is she?" he shouted, sending spittle flying in her direction, which Ryanne resisted the urge to wipe away, knowing it would only anger the man further.

"You can't take her," said the blonde, firmly. "I won't let you hurt her!"

"Get the fuck out of my way," he said, backhanding her roughly across the face. Ryanne fell to the ground, but quickly got back on her feet, blocking the man's path. "Listen, you little bitch," he snarled, waving the knife in front of her, "either you get out of my way, or I chop you and the girl into little pieces. Her first, so you get to watch," he added, gleefully.

Ryanne blanched. "If I move, do you promise not to hurt her?" she bargained.

The man laughed, his foggy eyes showing delight. "Yeah, sure. Whatever," he shrugged, moving towards her, the knife in front of him. "If you don't move, she'll regret it." The blonde hung her head, and stepped out of the way, knowing Daniel wouldn't hesitate to do exactly as he said. She could only pray she was doing the right thing by giving in to him. She hoped she'd be able to save her little girl.

"Where are you?" he demanded, going into Cassidy's room. "Ha!" he cried, looking under the bed, but she wasn't there. "Damn it, where the fuck are you?!" He ripped open the closet door, and found the young girl cowering in the corner. "Come here," he ordered, grabbing her by the hair as he yanked her out.

The girl yelped, and he growled, "Shut up. Not another sound." Wrapping her in his large arm, the man held her with the point of the knife against her neck, and slowly walked out of the house. "Come on, Cassidy," he slurred, "let's go home. You call the cops, and I'll slit her pretty little throat," he warned, as he left. "I mean it."

Ryanne waited until she was sure he was going in the direction of his house, and, picking up the phone, dialed the number for the base with trembling hands.

* * * * *

Kris was jogging around the field with her men, when a Private ran up to her, not even bothering to come to an immediate position of attention.

"Sergeant, there's an emergency phone call for you," he said. "It's been forwarded to your quarters, since that's the closest."

"Thanks, Private," said Kris, her heart pounding. Her only thought was of Ryanne, and Cassidy. She was scared to death, but wouldn't let anyone know it. "Run over to Sergeant Jenkins," she told her men. "If he asks why I sent you, tell him I had to go take care of an emergency." As the soldiers took off in one direction, she ran in the other, running as fast as she could to her quarters.

Picking up the phone, she said, "Hello?" and struggled to get her breath.

A tearful voice came over the line. "Kris," sobbed Ryanne, "we came… and he took her… and I couldn't… and a knife…" she blubbered.

Kris tried to calm her down. "Ryanne, I need you to slow down. Now, what happened?" she asked, her voice even and smooth, despite the fact that her heart was in her throat.

"Daniel has a knife, and he came over, and he took Cassidy!" she blurted, breaking down into tears again.

Kris would have panicked, but it sounded like Ryanne was doing enough for both of them, so she decided the woman needed her strength more than her fear.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," said the soldier, hanging up the phone as she glanced down at the address Ryanne had left. She'd have to race to make it there in the time she'd told Ryanne, but she'd do it. The soldier didn't know how Daniel was acting, and did everything with the speed that Cassidy's life depended on it.

For all she knew, it did.

Kris took a deep breath as she pulled the box out from under her bed, and unlocked it. The soldier didn't think she'd have to use the weapons for a long time, like until the entire National Guard decided to break into her quarters, but she figured the more of an advantage she had over Daniel the better. Strapping one .38 to the outside of her right thigh, Kris added a Glock 9mm to the outside of her left calf, and another .38 in a shoulder holster.

She left the major weaponry in the bottom of the metal box, knowing the problems that occurred with overkill. Slipping on her army camouflage jacket to conceal the weapon, the fully armed soldier left the base in a rush, still wearing her camouflage outfit from the field.

Being friends with the Chief Weapons Officer had its advantages.

When Kris arrived at Ryanne's house, she found the woman near hysterics. "Ryanne," she said, and the woman ran into her arms, but Kris pulled back. "Ryanne, I need you to calm down, okay? If you're emotional, you'll scare Cassidy." The blonde nodded, and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves and stop the tears.

"Are you going to be okay?" Kris asked, and received a nod. "Okay. Now, where is he?"

"He went into his house," Ryanne said. "One block over, just across the tracks." Kris nodded, and prepared to walk out, when Ryanne called her back. "Kris! Be careful," she said. The soldier gave her a quick smile, and headed down the street.

Jogging to Daniel's house, Kris slowed to a walk, and approached the house silently. Drawing both guns that were visible on her legs, the soldier peeked in the window, but saw nothing. Softly opening the door - all the way, to discourage anyone from hiding behind it, she closed it again, just as softly.

The tall woman had to remind herself to breathe, when she saw Cassidy tied to a chair, in the center of the living room. The girl seemed frightened, but, thankfully, unhurt.

Kris couldn't tell which room was what - they all lacked furniture, and were covered in dirt and ashes and cigarette butts. But, it didn't really matter. She wasn't there to ask where the bathroom was, after all, she was on a mission.

"Daniel!" she cried, wanting to draw the man out, so she would be able to watch him, and wouldn't have to go searching.

"I told the bitch I didn't want any goddamn cops!" came a deep, drunk, male voice from the back - what Kris guessed to be the bedroom.

"I'm not a cop," said Kris. "But you'll wish I was."

"Why?" asked the voice, and it sounded a little nearer, now.

"Because," said Kris, simply. "cops have a code that says lethal force is the last resort. I don't."

"You think I'm afraid of you?" demanded the man, coming into view, and several other men were visible behind him. Kris cursed herself for not thinking that the man could have had others with him, and took a quick glance around her, but found the area surrounding her to be vacant.

Kris looked at the man's eyes - he was very drunk, and probably just as high, and she suspected the others were, too.

Taking into consideration that the man was armed with a good-sized knife, and so were a few of his buddies, along with baseball bats, Kris said, "No," and left it at that. Rather than egg them on when they were all together, Kris wanted to separate them, if at all possible.

Scratch that idea, she thought, holstering her guns, as everyone but Daniel charged at her. The soldier didn't want to just start shooting, and blast them all away, but she wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger if she had to.

Two men held bats, and two had knives - all were high and acting extremely melodramatic, screaming at her as they ran. One swift kick to the throat disarmed one man of his knife, and sent him to the floor, gasping for air, while another came up behind her. A pain spread across her back as a baseball bat crashed across her shoulders, and she spun around, knocking the assailant to the ground as she swept his feet out from under him. Grabbing the bat, she brought it down on his stomach, and swung it around, blocking a blow from the other bat.

The two attacked and parried, until it seemed as if they were fighting with swords instead of bats. After taking a particularly hard hit in the arm, Kris side-kicked the guy with all her might, sending him flying back into the wall. Taking a moment to check on Cassidy, whom Daniel was trying to step through the fray and sneak up behind, Kris staggered to the ground when she felt a blinding hot pain in her left shoulder.

Glancing up, she saw the fourth man standing over her, grinning, blood all over his hands, but no knife.

That can't be good, thought Kris, trying desperately to clear the fog that entered her mind.

"Son of a bitch," she spat, and kicked the man so hard in the groin, his balls found a new home in his throat. "Smile now, fucker." Struggling to her feet, she saw Daniel reach for Cassidy.

"Huh-uh," she said, drawing the gun on her thigh, as well as her calf, concentrating on not letting her left hand shake, which she recognized in the back of her mind she was having a hard time doing.

"Drop the knife," she ordered, but he refused. "Listen," she growled, cocking both weapons, as she fought the dizziness again. "I can either blow your head off," she gestured to with her right hand, which was aimed at his head, "blow your brains out," she motioned to the Glock which was trained between his legs, "or you can drop the knife. Your choice."

The knife hit the floor, and Kris took a few steps towards him. "Now, untie her," she commanded. "Try anything funny, and there won't enough of you to identify." Daniel nodded, and did as he was told, carefully undoing the girl's bonds.

Cassidy immediately ran behind Kris, who glanced down at her, and said, "Go home, Cassidy. Go see your mom." The girl took off, without looking back. The tall soldier turned her attention back to Daniel, only to be met with a strong right hook in the jaw. Stumbling back, Kris regained her balance, and steadied her guns.

"Wrong choice, ass hole," she snarled, and fired a warning shot that zoomed between his knees. "You know where the next one's going," she said, and he nodded.

"If you even think about hurting Cassidy or Ryanne, I won't hesitate to empty my clips into your worthless excuse for a body. And I'll come fully equipped, understand?" Another nod. "Now, if you know what's good for you, you'll tell your buddies what I said. Except that one," she said, pointing to the one who's windpipe she had collapsed. "He won't have to worry about it."

Backing out of the house, Kris waited until she was sure Daniel wasn't going to follow her, before replacing her guns in their holsters. She was glad she hadn't had to use them.

The soldier had a sick feeling there was a knife sticking out of her shoulder, and if she could have removed it without losing anymore blood, she would have, for fear of scaring either Ryanne or Cassidy. But, she couldn't, so she'd have to return, and humbly ask the blonde to take her to the Emergency Room. She had to keep her left arm cradled against her stomach, since she had a hard time keeping it steady, and that had her worried.

As soon as Kris stepped inside, she called to Ryanne, and asked her if Cassidy was all right. The woman replied that they were both fine, and asked Kris to sit down, because she looked a little pale. And the blonde herself looked a little pallid when she saw the knife in the soldier's shoulder.

"Ryanne," said the soldier, weakly, "I, uh, I need you to take me to the hospital. Okay?"

"Sure," said Ryanne, taking the soldier's hand and calling for Cassidy. "Just stay with me, all right?"

Kris swallowed, and leaned heavily on the blonde, as her body acknowledged the trauma and sent a wave of nausea washing over her. "I'll try," she said, and sank into the front seat of the car as Cassidy clambered into the back.

"Keep talking to me, Kris," ordered Ryanne, and Kris shook her head.

"Ryanne, listen to me," she said, evenly. "I've lost a lot of blood because of that knife in my shoulder, and there's a chance of shock. If I do pass out, I want you to keep driving, and ask an ER doctor to help you, okay? Don't worry - I'll be all right," she reassured her, seeing that the woman looked scared.

The blonde nodded, even though she was indeed frightened. Kris noticed the brave facade, and struggled to move her left hand over, taking Ryanne's in her own. The blonde squeezed her hand, softly, and Kris suddenly didn't care that the angle she had her arm aggravated her shoulder - her fingers were intertwined with the smaller ones.

As they pulled around back, Ryanne hurried around to the opposite door, instructing Cassidy to stay by her side, and calling for a passing nurse as she helped Kris from the car. The woman leaned heavily on the small blonde again, but Ryanne held her up, and a nurse came with a stretcher.

"Thank you," said Kris, as she eased herself onto the cot. "I love you," she mouthed, before releasing Ryanne's hand when they wheeled her away, and finally giving in to the darkness.

Ryanne stood, frozen. Had Kris said "I love you"? Shaking her head, the blonde decided it was just wishful thinking, or the immense amount of pain the soldier was in, or both. Taking Cassidy by the hand, she parked the car in the parking lot, before going into the hospital to find out what she could.

Chapter Seven

Which wasn't much, since she wasn't family.

"Listen to me," she pleaded, to the woman at the front desk. "All I want to know is where she is, so I can wait and find out how she's doing. I'm the one who brought her here. Please, I have to know that she's okay," she insisted, a tear in her eye.

The receptionist sighed. "She's in surgery right now," she said, and pointed down the hallway. "You can wait there in the waiting room, but it might be a while," she warned.

"Thank you," said Ryanne, sincerely. Carrying Cassidy, who was beginning to get tired as the rush of adrenaline died away, and the excitement ceased, Ryanne sat down in the waiting room, curling up on the couch next to her daughter. When twenty minutes came and went, uneventful, two soft snores could be heard from the room.

A presence in the room, as well as a deep voice, startled the blonde awake. Looking up, she saw a doctor standing above her, and met his eyes. A silent message passed between them, and the doctor smiled, making him look younger than he already did, and Ryanne guessed him to be in his late 30s. He had brown hair styled in a crew cut, with gentle green eyes, and an honest face. The blonde figured they were about the same height, but she couldn't be sure, because Cassidy was asleep on her lap, so she couldn't stand to greet him.

"Are you Ryanne Cole?" he asked, and the woman nodded. "Ms. Jones asked for you just before she went under the anesthetic." He sat down beside her. "My name is Dr. Jules Roads, and I operated on Ms. Jones' shoulder. We tried to reach her mother, but she didn't respond, and Ms. Jones said I was to talk with you. Is that correct?" he asked, kindly.

Ryanne nodded. "Is she okay?"

"The operation was successful," said Dr. Roads, and Ryanne breathed a sigh of relief. "However, the knife did cause some nerve damage. It is possible that Ms. Jones will never regain full use of her left arm."

The blonde closed her eyes, and absorbed what she had been told. It is possible that Ms. Jones will never regain full use of her left arm… the words kept repeating themselves in her head. Ryanne thought back to all the times Kris had lifted Cassidy up into her arms, or tickled her, and the way she commanded such respect. If she was permanently injured, none of that would ever be the same.

Oh, God, she thought, will she be able to do the obstacle course, or be an example to her men? And what would happen to her left handed shooting ability? She remembered the pride beaming from the soldier's face as she told Ryanne of her 98% shooting accuracy, right-handed and left-handed. It'll destroy her if she loses that…

"Will she be able to fire a weapon? Accurately?" asked Ryanne. She asked because she knew Kris would.

The doctor started at the sudden question. "She will probably be unable to hold a coffee cup still, Ms. Cole. I doubt she would be able to aim and fire a weapon," he said, gently, and Ryanne flinched.

"Can I see her?"

Dr. Roads nodded. "She should be waking up soon," he said, motioning that they would talk as he walked her to the room. "Ms. Jones suffered two fractured ribs, a laceration on her jaw, numerous cuts and bruises, and, of course, the injury in her shoulder. She should be able to go home in a week, if all is healing well. I'll be by to check up on her," he said, as he left.

Ryanne entered room 313 quietly, with her sleeping daughter in her arms, and looked in on the slumbering soldier. An IV dripped pain medicine into her body, and the bed was slightly elevated; for her shoulder, Ryanne guessed. The woman wore a hospital gown, and her left arm was strapped to her stomach. The blonde winced when she realized Kris would be unhappy with her restraints.

"Son of a… monkey," finished Kris, upon seeing that Cassidy was in the room. "Hi."

Ryanne smiled at her, and Cassidy woke up at the sound of the soldier's voice. "Hi yourself," she replied, nearing the woman's bedside. In a flash, Cassidy climbed over the railing, and sat on Kris' lap. The tall woman was thankful the girl didn't hurt her ribs.

Kris grinned. "Hey, pip-squeak. How are you doing? Good?" she asked, and the girl nodded. "That's good. What are you doing up here, huh? You gonna make me all better?" Cassidy giggled, and nodded again. Kris laughed as Ryanne lifted her to the ground.

Cassidy tugged on her mother's arm, and spread the fingers of her right hand, placing her thumb on her forehead. Ryanne sighed, and nodded. "Yes, sweetheart. Daddy did that to Kris," she said. The young girl frowned, and crossed her arms over her chest, angrily.

Kris chuckled. "Hey, wipe off that frown, soldier! Attention!" she called, and winced when the action made her ribs hurt. She smiled when Cassidy stood straight, stretching herself until she was as tall as she could be. The tall soldier saluted her, received one in return - specifically a Cassidy style salute - and smiled.

"That's my Junior Sergeant." The girl smiled. Kris fiddled with the strap on her arm, and the blonde woman sighed.

"Cassidy," said Ryanne, fishing a dollar out of her pocket, "I saw a Coke machine just around the corner. Will you do me a favor and get me a soda?" The youngster nodded. "Be careful, okay?" Cassidy clutched the bill, and wandered out the door.

"How do you get this damned thing off?" Kris demanded, trying to remove the restraint.

"Kris," said Ryanne, quietly, "I'd leave that on."

"Why?"

The blonde flinched. "The doctor says the knife caused some nerve damage in your arm," she said.

Kris sighed, and leaned against the bed. "Terrific," she said, irritably. "Well, I guess that means I'll have to work extra hard to regain full use. Hey, have you guys eaten yet?" Ryanne shook her head. "Why don't you and the pip-squeak get lunch, and I'll see what this place serves for a meal."

The blonde agreed. "All right," she said. "We'll see you after lunch, then." Telling herself it was just a gesture of gratitude, Ryanne leaned over, and placed a gentle kiss on Kris' cheek. "Bye." Walking out the door, Ryanne met Cassidy in the hallway, and took her to lunch.

Kris stared at the retreating figure for a moment, trying to decided if that had just really happened.

She kissed me? she thought. Wow. Maybe there's a chance for us after all. No, who am I kidding? She was just thanking me for saving Cassidy. I saved her daughter… was I expecting a handshake? The woman sighed. I wonder what bland crap they try to pass for food here… Pushing the call button for the nurse, the tall soldier's heart was still feeling content from the kiss, no matter why, despite the condition of the rest of her body.

When Ryanne and Cassidy returned an hour later, a nurse was checking the IV, and Kris was asleep. The blonde noticed that the soldier's arm bandage seemed to be even thicker.

"What happened?" she asked.

"She pulled off her restraint, and pulled a few of her stitches. The doctor gave her a stronger bond, as well as a sedative. She should be up soon, but she might be a little groggy," the nurse said, before leaving.

Cloudy blue eyes opened a few minutes later. "Hi, love," said Kris.

Ryanne raised an eyebrow at her, and tried to control the blush that rose in her face. "Uh, hi," she said. "I heard you gave the doctor a bit of trouble."

Kris shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I can't exercise my arm if they won't let me move it," she said, testily. Then she sighed. "Oh, well." Ten minutes later, her eyes were much more alert, and her speech was a little clearer, as she drank some water from a glass that the nurse had left for her.

"Kris, I need to talk to you," said Ryanne, and the soldier nodded.

"Shoot," she urged, smiling when she realized that Cassidy had climbed up beside her and fallen fast asleep.

"When we first got to the hospital, and you were being taken in on the stretcher…" she began, slowly.

Shit, cursed Kris, realizing what Ryanne was going to ask her. Why'd I have to go and do that? Because you want her to know, and because you want a relationship with her more than you've ever wanted anything before, her mind answered.

"I thought I saw you tell me you loved me," said the blonde, finally, and it was clear to the soldier that she was uncomfortable. "I was just wondering if you really said that, or if I was imagining things."

Kris sighed. What do I tell her? Do I say yes, I love her with all that I am, and chance her leaving, or do I tell her no, and deny my heart?

"Yeah," she said, "but I was kind of fading out, then. I didn't really know what I was saying."

Ryanne nodded, as her heart crumbled. "Okay," she said. "That's what I thought. And… when we came back from lunch, did you call me "love" ?" she asked, hesitantly. She wanted to know what Kris' feelings were, so she could figure out if she had to keep hiding her own, or if they had a chance at a relationship.

Kris kicked herself. The endearment had just slipped out, and now she had to find a way to fix it. "I probably did, but they really had me doped up with pain killers," she lied, and the blonde seemed to accept her answer.

Nothing more was mentioned by either woman on the subject of a relationship, as both were focused on Kris' recovery. The doctor said she was healing well, as far as the sutures went, but she did have severe nerve damage that the surgery had been unable to fix, and while he didn't come right out and say it was permanent, Dr. Roads didn't sound too hopeful, either.

The blonde was with the soldier whenever possible, often falling asleep in a chair beside her bed, glad she didn't have to worry about the café, since Barry said he had hired a few friends, and now had the business up and running again. As much as Ryanne wanted to help, she knew she couldn't go back to that area again, and she wanted to be there for Kris, at any rate.

Ryanne paid close attention to the physical therapist, when the woman was going over what exercises Kris could do to strengthen her arm and help steady it, so the blonde could assist Kris in her therapy while at home, since that's where she'd be staying. Ryanne had decided that all on her own, without even thinking to ask the soldier. She just assumed the woman would know she'd need help.

That, and she really didn't want to go back to her house.

Kris sighed as she put her right arm in her jacket, since her left arm was in a sling. She had been in the hospital for a week, and was going home, where she'd be off work for as long as she needed, until she felt well enough to go back. She'd have to get rid of her old jacket, the one she was currently wearing, since she didn't feel like patching the large hole in the shoulder. But, a new jacket could easily be arranged.

The soldier was surprised when the blonde and her daughter followed her home.

"You really don't have to stay, if you don't want," said Kris, as she walked up to her front door, the blonde close behind. "I don't want to be a burden to you, especially when you're kind enough to offer."

Come on, Kris, her mind urged. Tell her the truth. Tell her you're not sure you can keep your feelings hidden if you're around her much longer. Tell her… oh, Hell.

Ryanne smiled, and Kris knew she was beat - there was no way she could say no to that look, which had to be the envy of the brightest star in the galaxy.

Tell her what, almighty soldier with an iron will?

"You won't be a burden, Kris," insisted the blonde. "You're injured, and I'd like a chance to help you, if I can, since I'm the reason you were hurt."

Kris' eyes narrowed, and she put her right hand on the woman's shoulder, turning to face her. "Stop that right now, Ryanne," she said, sternly. "This is not your fault, do you understand me? You're not the one who attacked me, all right?"

"But, if I hadn't called you…" protested the young woman, tears forming as she realized once again the danger she had practically forced upon the woman.

"Ryanne, I'm glad you called me." The blonde looked confused. "What would have happened if you'd have gone into that house with him? Or called the cops? Cassidy would have gotten hurt." Ryanne nodded, mutely. "You protected your daughter, and you allowed me to protect you both. There's no reason to feel bad about that," she smiled, and Ryanne nodded.

"Thanks," she sniffled, wiping at the unshed tears. Kris opened the door, and Cassidy peered inside, her eyes wide at the sight of the roomy house. The tall soldier gave the young girl a tour, and showed her which room she would be using, and her mother, if she so chose.

The girl was quick to set her stuffed animals on the bed, moving them to-and-fro until she was satisfied.

Ryanne raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "Well, I think that's a lovely bed for you and your toys, Cassidy," she said, and the girl nodded her agreement. "But, where am I supposed to sleep?"

With all the innocence of a youngster who knows a secret, Cassidy bit back a smile, and pointed to Kris. She giggled at the look of utter embarrassment and surprise on both women's faces. The child couldn't understand why her mother and Kris couldn't see what she saw - was she the only one who realized that neither woman seemed to be really happy unless they were together, and when they were with each other, they looked more complete than the first jigsaw puzzle she'd done by herself?

"I, uh, well, I think you can clear the toys off," said Kris, awkwardly, as she reminded herself to have a little talk with Cassidy later. "I mean, if you want… to sleep in here, comfortably," she corrected, quickly.

Soldier, your tongue has never been tied so tight, she scolded herself. You were going to say "I mean, if you want to sleep in here. You don't have to. You're quite welcome to sleep in my bed."

Yeah, then she'd say, "But, where would you sleep, if not on your bed?" Kris smiled to herself. "Who said I wasn't sleeping in my bed?" Kris, you are bad!

"Hey, you all right?" asked Ryanne, waving her hand in front of the woman's face.

"Yeah, sorry," said Kris, coming back to reality with a start. "I was just thinking. So, is anybody hungry?" she offered. Getting an immediate yes from the blonde, the soldier laughed, and led both guests into the kitchen, where Ryanne went to work. She refused to let Kris do anything, except tell her where things were when she couldn't find them, insisting that she loved cooking, especially for more than just her and Cassidy.

"I was thinking of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Is that okay?" she asked.

Kris grinned. "At this point, after a week of hospital food, I think I'm willing to eat just about anything, as long as it starts with an F, ends with a D, and has two Os in the middle," she said. Ryanne paused for a moment, thinking it over, before smiling at the woman's joke.

"Well, that gives me a lot to work with," she said, fixing lunch while Kris went into the bedroom to change from her fatigues - she had no other clothes with her at the hospital, so she'd changed from the gown to the clothes she had worn when she'd come in. Her jacket and shirt were ripped, but her pants were intact. Modesty never being a big issue with the soldier, she wore the clothes as they were, torn or not.

Sensing someone else in the room with her, as she slowly took off her jacket, Kris said, "Hey, pip-squeak, what are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be helping your mom with lunch?" The little girl shook her head, and tugged on Kris' good hand, until the woman got the idea, and knelt in front of the youngster.

Carefully, and with a gentleness that surprised Kris, Cassidy helped the woman slide out of her shirt. Not yet understanding the taboo of nudism in society, Cassidy laid the cloth on the bed, not caring in the slightest that Kris stood before her in nothing but a pair of pants, since a strict bra put too much pressure on the woman's wound, and then retrieved a shirt from the drawer that Kris pointed out to her. Assisting her in sliding her left arm through the sleeve, Cassidy grinned triumphantly when the woman was clothed in a clean shirt.

"Thanks, sweetheart," said Kris, giving the girl the best one-armed hug she could manage. "I think I can take it from here. I'll call you if I need anything, okay?" she asked, when the youngster looked defiant.

Cassidy hesitated. "Cassidy, I appreciate your help, but I'll give it to you in an order if I have to." The child looked hurt, so Kris tapped her chin with her finger, and grinned down at her. The small girl smiled back, when she realized she wasn't in trouble.

"Now, go help your mother. I'll be out in a few minutes to eat lunch with you, I promise." Cassidy seemed to believe her, and with one last hug around her waist, the girl shut the soldier's bedroom door softly behind her.

When she was sure the child was gone, Kris sat down on the edge of her bed, and gingerly removed the sling from her left arm. The staples - the doctor had put in staples when she kept tearing stitches - were supposed to be taken out in the following week, and Kris had learned very quickly that the wound was sensitive to the touch.

Flexing her fingers, the tightened muscles in her shoulder only felt a little twinge of pain, so the soldier decided to try a little more movement. Keeping her elbow at her side, the woman moved her arm out to the side, thoroughly worried when her hand started shaking uncontrollably. When Kris returned her hand to rest against her stomach, the trembling lessened, and ceased completely in a few moments, but Kris' shoulder was not happy with her little experiment, and made its discomfort known - loudly.

Deciding not to change her pants, the soldier wandered out into the kitchen, where she had set the antibiotics and other medicines from the hospital pharmacy on the counter.

"What do you need?" asked Ryanne, concerned by the look of distress on the soldier's face, evident even in her posture.

"Pain medicine," Kris mumbled, finding the bottle she needed, only to be unable to open it on her own.

"Here," said Ryanne, softly. Opening the container, she put one pill in the woman's hand, and then closed the lid tightly. Handing the tall soldier a glass of water, she noticed the scowl on her face, and realized that Kris was unaccustomed to having someone take care of small things she was used to doing on her own.

This is gonna be harder than I thought, Ryanne sighed. But we'll get through it. I'll drag her through the healing process by the roots of her hair, if I have to, she promised herself, and the tall woman in front of her, who was swallowing the medicine with the fervor of hopeful relief.

"It's ready to eat, if you're hungry," said the blonde, gently, taking Kris by the arm - the uninjured arm - and leading her to the table. The soldier ate the sandwich with her right hand, but figured she'd better start getting used to exercising her left hand, and decided to try eating the soup with her injured hand.

It didn't work very well, and she quickly became frustrated. Each time the woman would bring the spoon inches from her mouth, her hand would start shaking, and she'd spill red liquid all over the table, as well as her clothes.

A sharp hand quelled any help from the blonde, as the other two at the table watched the scene with some anxiety. After most of the soup was on her shirt, Kris shoved her chair back from the table, muttered an angry "Damn it!" loud enough for Ryanne to hear, and stormed into her room, quite upset.

Ryanne sighed. "Cassidy, will you go into your room for a while, please? I need to talk to Kris," she explained. The girl nodded, and trotted off to play with her stuffed animals, as her mother spoke with her Army friend.

"Kris?" asked Ryanne, quietly, knocking softly on the door that led to the woman's bedroom. There was no answer, so the blonde took a chance, and opened the door. Kris was sitting on the edge of her bed, her back to the door, resting her head in her hands.

Ryanne sat beside her, and put a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder, saying, "It's all right, Kris. I know you're frustrated, but it's going to take some time, okay? You only got out of the hospital today," she reminded. "Maybe you should do the exercises for a while before you accidentally overdo it."

The soldier looked away, not meeting Ryanne's eyes. "I'm a trained soldier, Ryanne," she said, coldly. "I have taught myself to have excellent control over my body. And now I can't even keep my fucking hand still enough to eat soup."

It was clear Kris was disgusted with herself, and Ryanne felt bad - perhaps she had expected too much from the injured woman. "Kris, I'm sorry," she said. "Maybe the soup was a bad idea."

Kris' expression softened a little, and she met the woman's soft green eyes. "It wasn't you, Ryanne. I'm sorry. Lunch was wonderful, I'm just angry with myself," she admitted.

"Don't be," pleaded the blonde. "You can only do so much, at least, until you strengthen that arm. Your muscles are going to be sore, after the surgery, for quite a while, and you're going to have to work up to things. Take little steps, so you don't hurt yourself, and you'll be back to your old self before you know it," she encouraged.

The tall woman smiled, and gave Ryanne a quick hug. "Thanks," she said. "I'm going to go check on Wind Dancer. Do you want to come with me?"

Ryanne nodded, and said, "Let me get Cassidy. We'll both go. I'm warning you, though, you may lose your horse. Cassidy loves horses," she added, and Kris laughed.

The tall soldier was a little unsettled to see that the Palomino still seemed to walk with a limp, in the same leg.

"Hey, girl," said the woman, patting the mare softly. "I thought I told you to get some rest so you felt better, hm? Did Mickey take good care of you? Hey… where is he?

"Mickey!" she called, and a few minutes later, a small man came walking up to her. The man was about 5'5'', with thick black hair and eyes with the color - and friendliness - of coal. He was a fairly well-built man, with dark skin, and Ryanne wondered if he was perhaps of Indian lineage.

"Yes, Señora?" he asked, politely.

Ah, he's Spanish, thought Ryanne.

"Mickey, Wind Dancer still seems to be limping," she explained. "When I left over a week ago, I left her in her stall, with specific instructions that she was not to be let out for at least seven to ten days. I come back today, only to find that she is still in pain, and in the same leg. Did you let her out?" she demanded.

The man seemed startled. "Oh, no, ma'am!" he exclaimed. "I would not go against your orders. I did just as you said in your note; I fed her in the stall, and made sure she was comfortable, and only walked her around for a few minutes in the morning and just before I left in the evening. I swear to you, ma'am!"

Mickey seemed so hurt by her accusation, Kris didn't have the heart to be angry with him.

Some soldier I am, she scoffed.

"All right," she said, "I believe you. Just keep an eye on her, will you? If she's not doing any better within the next few days, I'll call the vet."

"Perhaps I could take her for you, ma'am, since you need to rest," he offered, glancing down at her sling, as if to remind her that she needed to heal.

Kris shook her head. "I'll call the vet down the road and have him take a look at her, if I think she needs it," she said, and the man nodded.

"Very well, Ms. Jones," he agreed. "If there is nothing else, I will go back to cleaning the tack." Kris nodded, and the man wandered off into a nearby shed, where he was working on polishing Wind Dancer's gear.

Kris introduced Cassidy to Wind Dancer, and, as Ryanne had predicted, the child was instantly taken by the beautiful golden horse. Cassidy was undisturbed by her size, and brushed the mare until she shined, allowing her mother and Kris to help her with the areas she couldn't reach - like beyond the horse's legs.

By the time they were finished outside, Wind Dancer was shining brilliantly, she had her dinner in front of her, she had made a new friend, and Kris realized it was dark. Not only that, but Cassidy was falling asleep in her mother's arms as she was carried inside.

The soldier went into her own room, as Ryanne placed her slumbering daughter in the bed of the guest bedroom, wishing her pleasant dreams as she kissed her goodnight. Then, entering Kris' room to tell her the same thing, Ryanne was surprised to find the woman's sling resting on the bed.

"What are you doing?" asked Ryanne, as the tall woman tucked her Army dog tags inside her shirt.

"Exercising," responded the soldier. The blonde looked like she was going to protest. "Ryanne, I'm not supposed to put much weight on my arm for the first few days, and I'm not expected to ever regain full use. But if I don't keep up with a semi-normal routine, I'm going to get out of shape. Plus, I'll hate myself for giving up, and not trying," she added.

"All right," sighed the blonde. She stood watch as the tall woman dropped to the floor, pumping out 25 one-handed pushups with her right arm, very easily. Then, slowly, she placed her left hand flat on the ground, deciding to do regular pushups until she was ready for the one-handers with her left hand.

Ryanne watched with increasing concern as the woman did one… two… three… four pushups with both hands, each one more difficult than the last. Finally, when the pain became too much for even the hardened soldier to bear, Kris collapsed to the floor on the fifth pushup with a muffled cry of agony, clutching her shoulder as she fought tears.

The tall woman was surprised when she felt Ryanne near her, and allowed the small blonde to soothe her.

"Do you think you can sit up?" asked Ryanne, a few minutes later, when the soldier seemed to have recovered a little. At the woman's nod, the blonde eased her into a sitting position, which made Kris inhale through clenched teeth at the pain it caused.

"Thanks," said Kris, when Ryanne helped her climb into bed.

"Can you get to sleep?"

The tall woman shrugged, and refused her sling. "I'll try," she sighed.

Ryanne was silent for a moment, thinking. "Lay on your right side," she said, suddenly. Kris raised an eyebrow at her, but did as she said. The blonde moved to the other side of the bed, so she had access to the woman's back, and, careful not to get too close to the wound itself, began a gentle massage of the tense muscles in the soldier's shoulders and neck.

"Mm," murmured Kris, surprised, but very pleased, by the woman's decision. No one had given her a massage in many years, and the blonde was excellent at it. The treatment felt especially good, because it came from Ryanne, and made her pain diminish significantly.

Ryanne smiled as she noticed Kris' jacket, which was hanging from her bedpost. "Kris, are you going to wear that jacket?" she asked, and the woman grunted in the negative. "I saw Cassidy trying on one of them earlier, do you think I could sew up the tear and let her wear it?" Kris smiled, and agreed.

The soldier continued to make contented noises until she fell asleep, and Ryanne did not stop with the massage, knowing it would help relax the woman, until she, too, fell asleep.

Sometime during the night, at a little past midnight, judging by the clock on her small bedside table, Kris woke up to the need for more pain medicine. Reaching for the bottle, which she'd wisely brought into her room, along with a glass of water, the woman swallowed the pill quickly, and followed it with a few swallows of water.

She was about to go back to sleep when she heard something; or rather, caught the flash of lights out of the corner of her eye.

That's odd, she thought. No one drives up here close enough for me to see their lights… Frowning, she sat up slowly, and glanced out her window. Her blue eyes narrowed to angry slits at what she saw: Mickey leading Wind Dancer into a horse trailer, urging her on by pulling fiercely on the lead rope.

What is he doing? she wondered. Where is he taking her? I'll corner him in the morning, she decided, as the pain killer kicked in, and made her drowsy - thankfully. Laying back down, Kris was careful not to aggravate her arm or the blonde beside her, who had apparently fallen asleep in her bed. Kris remembered the strong, skilled, yet gentle fingers kneading her back, and closed her eyes, a smile on her face.

Chapter Eight

The next morning, Kris awoke at seven o'clock. She figured the pain pills must have really knocked her out, for her to sleep past dawn. Either that, or her body knew she needed rest.

Glancing down at the sleeping form in her bed, Kris grinned, widely. Ryanne had not awakened during the night, and so had not moved from Kris' bed - a fact which Kris did not mind one little bit. She wasn't about to complain when she woke up to find the woman she loved in her bed beside her, no sir-ee.

The soldier placed a gentle kiss on the blonde's forehead, and her lips lingered on the fair skin for a few seconds, before she pulled back, to find two very awake green orbs staring at her.

"You can't blame that one on the medicine," stated Ryanne, and Kris' blue eyes got huge.

"I, uh, well, uh… damn," she swore. The woman had caught her, knew how she felt, and that only left one question on the soldier's mind. "What are you going to do?"

Ryanne sighed, and got to her feet, turning her back to Kris as she hid a giant smile, pretending to think. Sliding an angry mask over her features, she turned back to face the woman, hands on her hips.

"I guess there's only one thing to do," she replied, surprising the hell out of Kris by leaning over and pressing her lips forcefully against the soldier's, who was still lying in bed.

If Kris hadn't been lying down, she knew she would've fallen. Deciding not to dispute the blonde's actions at the moment, she closed her eyes, and allowed herself to get lost in the velvet sweetness of Ryanne's gentle lips.

When they pulled back, Kris cracked a grin. "I'm not letting anyone claim that but me!" she exclaimed, happily. "Geez, Ryanne, you scared me! I thought you were going to walk out on me, or something," the soldier admitted.

Ryanne smiled, softly. "Well, I'm sorry," she said. "I just couldn't let you off that easy; not after I spent the last week wondering if you knew how much I cared for you, and how badly I hoped you felt the same way."

Kris sighed. "Ryanne, I have a confession to make," she said, and the blonde raised an eyebrow at her. "I knew exactly what I was doing when I told you I loved you, and when I called you "love". I just didn't want you to know how I felt, because I was sure you couldn't feel the same way," she explained.

In response, Ryanne leaned over again, even going so far as to lay next to Kris on the bed, and kissed the soldier, again. The blonde gently moved her tongue to run along the lengths of Kris' lips, and the woman eagerly opened her mouth to allow Ryanne entrance, thrusting her own tongue into the blonde's gentle mouth. Both women moaned softly at the contact, and Ryanne leaned into the soldier's touch when she felt the tall woman caress her cheek.

"Any doubts?" she asked, smiling, as they parted. Kris shook her head, and reached for Ryanne, to take the woman in her arms, but her shoulder quickly reminded her that the pain medicine she'd taken during the night had long since run out.

Wincing in pain, Kris was grateful when Ryanne not only offered her the medicine, but also cradled her in her arms, brushing the hair back from her face until the soldier looked more comfortable.

"Thank you," said Kris, sincerely.

Ryanne kissed her forehead, so glad she could do so without having to worry about Kris having a negative reaction. "You're welcome," she whispered. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I love you, too." Both women smiled, and turned their heads when the door to Kris' bedroom opened, revealing a sleepy Cassidy. Ryanne made an attempt to move, but Kris gently asked her to stay by placing a hand on her arm, and the woman obeyed.

The child, upon seeing her mother and Kris finally together, climbed up onto the bed beside them, with the biggest grin that Ryanne had ever seen on her daughter. Taking the soldier's right hand, and her mother's left, Cassidy put them together, and laughed happily when the women's fingers remained intertwined, even after she released them.

"So, pip-squeak, are you happy, now?" asked Kris, and Cassidy nodded, enthusiastically. Ryanne looked at them, quizzically, and Kris sighed. "Go on, Cassidy. You can tell her, now."

Pointing to Kris, then to her mother, Cassidy kissed the small blonde's forehead. Ryanne's brow furrowed as she tried to understand what her daughter was saying. "You want Kris to kiss me?" Cassidy shook her head, and then pointed to her eyes. "You saw Kris kiss me?" The girl nodded, and Ryanne chuckled when she saw the slight blush covering the soldier's face.

"We won't tell anybody, will we?" Ryanne whispered, loud enough for Kris to hear, and Cassidy shook her head, laughing.

Even in all the commotion, and what wonderful commotion it was, Kris had not forgotten the scene she had witnessed outside of her window the night before. Tucking it away into the back of her mind, the soldier announced it was breakfast time, which immediately sent both blondes running to the kitchen.

"Wow," commented Kris, a small smile on her face as she followed them. "I might work with an army, but I'm not used to feeding one!" Ryanne slapped her stomach, but quickly kissed her cheek, as well, so the soldier wasn't sure if the blonde knew she was joking, or was actually taking it as a compliment.

After a breakfast of cereal, toast, eggs, and juice, which Ryanne graciously prepared, since she learned very quickly that Kris couldn't cook to save her life, the soldier set out to find her ranch hand, and demand some answers. Sliding her arm in her sling, since she was in more pain than she'd care to admit, Kris wandered out to the stable, and greeted her mare.

"Morning, Wind Dancer," she said. "Where'd you go last night, hm? I sure wish you could talk, girl," said the woman. "I don't know if I'm fit to drag answers out of anyone right now.

"Mickey, can you come here for a minute?" she called, and the man approached her not long after.

"What is it, ma'am?" he asked. The man arrived every day, except Sunday, at 8 and left around dark. Or, he was supposed to.

"What time did you go home last night?" she asked.

"I was in my home by 7, Señora," he responded, unsure of why Kris was asking such questions. "Is something wrong, ma'am?"

Kris shrugged. "I must have been dreaming," she lied. "I could have sworn I saw headlights in my window last night, but it would have been around midnight. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

The man shook his head, but not before taking a quick moment to regain his composure. "No, Ms. Jones."

Kris had a sneaking suspicion of where the man was taking her horse - illegal horse racing was a common occurrence at the old closed-down race track, and Wind Dancer would be ideal for raking in some money. Only problem was, Mickey knew Kris would never agree, so the woman assumed he took her to the games, which were held late at night, and brought her back when it was over. With the Sergeant staying at the base, it would be all too easy for the man to do as he wished, and Jones would never be the wiser.

"One more question, Mickey," she said, before he could turn away. He nodded for her to continue. "Would you mind telling me how Wind Dancer got grass in her hooves, when all she's been on is dirt for the past few weeks?" the soldier demanded. She was bluffing - the soldier hadn't even checked the horse's hooves, but if her suspicions were right, Wind Dancer was being run on a grassy field, as well as dirt.

The frightened ranch hand looked like he was going to pass out. "I… I… I," he sputtered, stepping away from the blaze of blue that surrounded him.

"Spit it out, Mickey," said Kris, grabbing the collar of his shirt with her right hand and pulling him closer until they were face-to-face. "What are you doing to my horse?"

"I needed the money!" he exclaimed. "She is a good horse, and I needed the money. It is my fault she is injured, she sprained a muscle during a run two weeks ago, but I was unable to let her rest, because I had to race her again. I am sorry, ma'am," he muttered.

"You're lucky I'm injured, Mickey, or you'd be a whole lot more than just fired," she growled. "How long has this been going on?"

"About six months."

Kris kicked herself for not realizing that something was wrong before. "Where's the money you owe me?" she asked.

"What money?"

"If you're racing with my horse, than I get the winnings," clarified the soldier, releasing the man with a hard shove. "Give it to me."

"I… I don't have all of it left, ma'am," he admitted.

"Empty your pockets and give me what you have," she ordered, holding out her right hand, into which a wad of bills was placed. Kris counted it out to be almost $2000 as she stuffed it into her pocket.

"If I ever see you near my property, Mickey, you'll be in a shit load of trouble. You see, messing with my horse was your second mistake," she said.

"What was my first mistake?" he asked.

"Trying to fuck me over in the first place." The man nodded, and ran off without looking back. After the look he had been pinned with, the man was glad to get away with all his vital body parts intact; unless you count the fact that his heart was beating fast enough to explode at any given moment.

Ryanne came up beside her, and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Is everything okay?" she asked, softly.

Kris smiled, and kissed her nose, before wrapping her good arm around the woman's shoulders, pulling her close. "It is now," she replied.

Every day for nearly twenty minutes, Ryanne and Kris sat down, and the blonde helped the soldier with her physical therapy. Despite the obvious fact that Ryanne hated to see Kris in pain, she knew she had to push the soldier to her limits, and it was what Kris requested, because she felt it would help her heal faster.

Sure enough, one week later, when the staples were removed, the doctor said Kris was healing well. The first thing the soldier did, after getting home from the doctor's office that day, was jump in the shower - for over an hour. She had been unable to take a shower, because she couldn't get her bandage wet, so the woman enjoyed herself, until the hot water ran out. She leapt out of the shower with a shout, glaring through the closed door at Cassidy and Ryanne's muffled laughter.

The soldier presented her Junior Sergeant with her old jacket, which Ryanne had sewn up, and watched as the girl's eyes lit up, happily. Cassidy slipped it on, and let her mother and Kris roll up the sleeves, before hugging the tall soldier with all her might. Kris noticed with delight that the girl didn't even take it off when she slept, but pulled it over her like a blanket.

It warmed the soldier's heart in a way she'd never felt before - almost like a mother, she thought.

Kris worked herself to the limit every day, and six months later, she was deemed fit to go back to work. She could now fully maneuver her left shoulder, with minimal to no pain, and unless she moved the wrong way, had her shoulder in just the right position, or was extremely upset or tired, her hand was steady. The soldier intended to stay off work until she was 100% back to normal, but didn't want to miss her former company's celebration of their academy completion.

The ceremony lasted a long time, as there were numerous squads graduating, but Kris stayed through it all, and took time afterwards to congratulate all that she knew. The soldiers who had known her for just a few days were the happiest to see her back, and treated her with the utmost respect. She was extremely proud of them.

Kris decided that, although she was a Staff Sergeant, she enjoyed teaching new recruits, and asked the Captain for permission to train the newer soldiers for a while longer. Captain Bowman eagerly granted the wish, glad to have such a good officer training the grunts, as they were commonly called.

It was six months longer before Kris declared herself officially healed. She had gone for an entire 48 hours, doing all the things she normally did, without experiencing a pain or a tremble anywhere. She and Ryanne celebrated with cups of hot chocolate, since it was beginning to get into the cold rainy season, and Kris gleefully held her cup with her left hand the entire night.

Ryanne, Cassidy, and Kris often stayed at the soldier's home at night, rather than at the base, in order to take care of Wind Dancer. Kris had been able to bribe her neighbor to drive in twice a day and check on the mare, however, so the three were free to roam around for a while.

"You know what I'm going to do first thing tomorrow?" Kris asked, lying in bed, Ryanne stretched out next to her, smiling at the woman's happiness. Cassidy had quickly become loved by the Captain and his wife, so the youngster was staying with the elderly couple for a few days, promised horseback rides and cartoons until she was sick. It was just Kris and Ryanne, a time the two planned to take advantage of.

"What?"

"Break my own record at the obstacle course," she said, and Ryanne laughed.

"Is that obstacle course the only thing you think about?" asked the blonde, still smiling.

Kris shook her head. "No," she said, honestly. "I also think about you. I couldn't have done this without you, Ryanne. And don't even try to deny it," she said, before the woman had a chance to say anything. "If it wasn't for you being by my side through all of this, I never would have made it, and I owe it. All. To. You," she finished, punctuating her sentences with a soft kiss.

Ryanne grinned. "Hey, I was just here for moral support," she protested. "You did all the hard work. You sure showed those doctors," she added.

Kris snorted. "Permanent nerve damage, my ass." The tall soldier kissed the blonde's head, and they both snuggled closer for a good night's sleep. Kris gladly wrapped both arms around her love, securely, before joining Ryanne in slumber.

The next morning, Kris smiled as she heard raindrops fall on the roof of her quarters. It was raining, at last! The soldier loved the rainy season, even if it meant she had to work in the mud, and a good strong thunderstorm was absolutely wonderful.

"Ryanne," she whispered, happily, trying to wake the small blonde. "Hey, sweetheart, it's raining!"

"I know," she mumbled, wrapping her arms tighter around the woman's waist. "I hate the rain. And I'm terrified of thunderstorms."

"Why?"

"I've just never liked them, ever since I was a teenager," shrugged Ryanne. "Can we just stay in here all day? I really don't want to go outside if it's raining," she admitted.

"Oh, but, it's the first rain of the season!" exclaimed Kris, obviously thrilled by the news. "Come on, please? We have to go outside, just for a few minutes," she pleaded.

"Why?" asked Ryanne, knowing she'd end up going with the soldier, only because it seemed to mean so much to her.

"I wanna dance with you," the woman admitted. "I couldn't do it before, because of my arm, but I'm healed now. Please? We won't stay out very long," she promised.

Ryanne couldn't help but laugh at the adorable look on the woman's face. "I didn't know soldiers pouted," she smiled.

"Only when I have to." She grinned. "And only for you."

The blonde sighed. "I guess," she swallowed. "Just let me put a coat on."

"But feeling the rain is the best part," insisted Kris, dragging her by the hand. The soldier opened the door to her barracks, and left it open, walking out into the rain, still holding Ryanne's hand. "Come on, love," she urged.

"This is great!" she exclaimed, opening her arms and throwing her head back, letting the rain pound on her face and arms, soaking both women's T-shirts. Ryanne smiled at the soldier's delight, and decided rain wasn't so bad, just as long as she didn't see any lightning - and the blonde had yet to notice any flashes in the sky, so she was okay.

"I have never seen you this… excited," commented Ryanne, relaxing enough to spin around with the soldier and let the water fall into her mouth.

Kris laughed. "And you probably won't see me like this again, until the first rain of next year. I've always loved standing in the rain, ever since I was a little kid," she said. "It's just so fresh."

Suddenly, a bright light flashed across the sky, as the lightning bolt snaked away into the other clouds. Kris cried, "Yes!" and wrapped her arms around Ryanne, who had jumped into her arms at the sight.

"Kris, let's go inside now," she pleaded. She hated to ruin the woman's fun, but now she was frightened.

"We won't stay out here too much longer," said the soldier. "Just a few more bolts, and a good crash of thunder, all right?" As if the storm could hear her, a bolt of lightning came from the sky, very close, and a clap of thunder sounded, rumbling through the earth.

Ryanne gripped the soldier tighter as the woman laughed. "Kris, please," she begged, "let's just go. Please, I really don't want to be out here anymore. Kris! I'm scared," said the blonde, and Kris glanced down at her, the excitement draining out of her as quick as the lightning bolts she loved when she saw the fear in the emerald eyes.

"Hey, that's not rain," she said, surprised. "You're crying! I'm sorry, sweetheart. Come on, we'll go inside, now. I'm sorry," Kris repeated, leading the woman to the couch as soon as they were inside. The soldier held the woman as she cried, feeling horrible that she had let her excitement drag Ryanne into something that frightened her.

"I'm sorry, Kris," sniffled Ryanne, the tears past. "I didn't mean to ruin your good time."

"Shh," she soothed, giving the woman a strong hug. "I don't need rain for that, love. As long as I'm with you, I wouldn't care if it never rained again. I shouldn't have pressured you into going out there with me. I'm really sorry," she added.

"Do you mind telling me why you're so scared of lightning?" the soldier asked, gently, after a pause.

Ryanne sighed. "Remember how I told you my mother and I weren't on very good terms when she died?" Kris nodded. "Well, I was 14, and my mother had just found out that I was gay. We lived out on a ranch in a small town in Kentucky, where it was hard to keep anything a secret," she said.

"It was one of the worst storms that we'd ever seen, so we were all staying inside. My mother, my sister, and I," she elaborated. "My father died just before I was born. Anyway, I was writing about a crush I had on one of my female friends, and my sister snooped through my diary. When she found the entry, she showed it to mother, who was very angry, to say the least.

"We had a big argument, in which I told her I hated her, and she ran out the door, slamming it behind her," remembered the blonde, and tears formed in her sad green eyes again, but she refused to let them fall. "It was all flat land, so I was able to watch her from the screen door, as she ran out into the storm and into the field. Lightning strikes the tallest thing in a meadow, as you know, and my mother was the tallest object in that field, since the grass was only knee high, and she was struck by lightning.

"The doctor said the charge gave her a heart attack, which is what killed her. The last thing I ever told her was that I hated her," sniffled Ryanne, and Kris gently wiped the tears away as she gathered her into her arms, and gave her a few minutes to collect herself.

"After her death, Rachel and I moved out here with our uncle, until he could no longer support us, and we got odd jobs to pay the rent of an apartment we shared. She met Daniel a few years after I started the café, and he got her pregnant with Cassidy. You know the rest," the blonde said.

"The lightning never bothered Rachel as much as it did me, but I'm just so scared of being struck," she finished.

"The chances of being struck by lightning are very slim," murmured Kris, holding the woman close, suddenly understanding her fear, and wanting to help. "And you're safe here, because there's so many tall trees around the compound, you don't have to worry about being a target. But, I don't want you to be afraid, love, so we'll both stay in here until the worst of it passes, all right?" she offered, and Ryanne smiled a little.

"Thanks," she said, and Kris nodded.

True to her word, Kris did not go outside at all for the next 24 hours, during which it poured rain and flashed lightning in such rapid succession, Ryanne wondered if this was how stars at the Oscars felt when they first pulled up - so many flashes, they were seeing spots for the entire evening.

Ryanne slept close to Kris at night, and the woman assured her they were safely tucked away inside where the lightning couldn't hurt them, until they both fell asleep. By the next afternoon, Ryanne noticed that Kris kept staring out the window, watching the rain fall, and seeming a little more dejected after each lightning strike that lit the sky.

The blonde felt bad, and, while Kris was exercising, she left a note and slipped out the door, running to her car. Ryanne knew her car was safe, and drove carefully to the store, parking as close as she could, hurrying inside the building to escape the rain.

The woman wanted to find something that Kris would like, that would show her she was sorry for keeping the soldier away from the rainy days she loved. She browsed through the aisles for quite some time, before finally deciding on a "Thunderbolt Necklace". A silver chain portrayed a pewter pendent, which was tear-shaped glass with a bolt of lightning etched on it. Ryanne figured it was appropriate.

Paying for her purchase, the blonde noticed with some discomfort that she was the last one in the store - everyone else had left, and even the employees were beginning to leave. As she walked out to her car, she was followed by the workers, who had been waiting for her to leave, so they could close. They all got in their cars and drove away, as Ryanne stood in the rain, searching for her car keys.

Glancing in her window, the woman froze - there, dangling from her ignition, were her keys. The woman tugged on the door with all her might, praying for it to open and let her escape the downpour, with no luck In her rush to get inside the store, the blonde had locked herself out of her car - and now she stood, open to the thunderstorm's fury.

She stood there for several minutes, trembling, holding the box with the necklace under her jacket so it wouldn't get wet, all the while trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall in her fear, and doing a miserable job. Looking around, she couldn't figure out where to go. She was alone in the parking lot, she wasn't able to be in the safety of her car, due to the clouds it was dark at 3 in the afternoon, the store was closed, and she was terrified.

With a burst of speed, Ryanne forced herself to the pay phones, and just stared at them for a while, frightened that if she picked them up, she would be electrocuted. The blonde had heard stories and seen news reports of people being killed, because lightning struck them through the phone lines, giving them enough of a jolt to send them flying backwards a few yards.

That was the last thing she wanted.

But she was alone, scared, and very, very cold. Feeding the machine a quarter, Ryanne dialed the base, and listened anxiously to the rings on the other end of the line. Each sound seemed to bring her closer and closer to a possible lightning strike.

"Hello?" answered Kris, and Ryanne let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Kris," she said, her voice trembling, "Kris, I'm scared."

"Ryanne? Sweetheart, where are you?" Kris demanded, instantly alert. The woman's note had said she'd gone shopping, so the soldier didn't expect her back for another hour, but now worried that something had gone wrong.

"It's raining, and I, I'm alone, and the store's closed, and no one's here," she rambled, her teeth beginning to chatter a little as the wind picked up and blew fiercely against her cold, wet frame.

"Ryanne, listen to me, all right?" said Kris, her voice low and soothing. "I need to know where you are. Are you hurt?"

The blonde replied in the negative, to Kris' relief. "I'm at the store on the corner of Julius and Bay," she muttered. "I locked my keys in my car, Kris, and I can't stay inside."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," said the tall soldier, locating her warmest jacket as she spoke. "I want you to find someplace to go where you can stay dry, okay?" Ryanne agreed, and hung up quickly, when she imagined she felt a small shock in her hand. Hanging up the phone, she stepped away, looking at the phones as though they would attack her.

Lightning flashed across the sky, and thunder shook the ground, all the while scaring the daylights out of the already frightened blonde. She didn't want to be near the store, since she was afraid the phones and electric doors would attract the lightning, so she stepped out into the center of the parking lot, praying the deadly bolts would know that the light poles were taller than she was.

The woman stood fifteen feet away from her car, remembering from somewhere that the outside of whatever was hit took the most damage, and figured if her car was struck, she wasn't about to be near the outside if she couldn't be in the inside. Cold, wet, and frightened, Ryanne waited for the soldier to arrive.

Chapter Nine

By the time Kris pulled into the parking lot half an hour later, due to wet roads and poor visibility, Ryanne was shivering like an avalanche and so cold she wasn't sure she could walk. Kris leapt out of her truck, and put her arm around the frozen blonde.

"Christ, Ryanne!" she exclaimed, feeling the chilled woman. "You're an icicle! Come on, sweetheart, we've got to get you warmed up. Here," she said, taking off her jacket to wrap it around the smaller woman until they got in the vehicle.

"All right," she said, carefully, "we have to get that wet jacket off you." Ryanne was shaking so violently Kris had a hard time removing the soaked coat, but was finally able to throw the garment in the back seat.

"You keep my jacket around you, all right?" The woman nodded, and curled up on the front seat, trying desperately not to let her teeth chatter, because they did so with so much force, it hurt. "I'm going to go get the keys out of your car, just so you won't have to worry about it, okay?"

Seeing that the woman was going to go out in the rain, Ryanne tried to give her the jacket back, but Kris refused. "No, "she said, sternly. "Keep that on. I'll be right back." The soldier grabbed a box from her glove compartment, and ran out into the downpour. Using her lock pick set, Kris had the door open in just a few minutes, and returned to her warm truck, car keys in hand.

"Okay," she said, "let's get you home." Ryanne nodded, still unable to speak, and wrapped the jacket tighter around her, as her body refused to stop shaking.

"S… so… c… c-cold," she stuttered a while later, forcing the words out.

Kris nodded. "I know, love," she said. "But, shivering is a good sign. We only need to worry if you stop, okay? So everything's fine, right now," she assured her. Ryanne nodded, and turned another vent towards her, the warm air having no affect.

When they pulled into the base, in front of Kris' quarters, the soldier rushed around to the other side, and helped Ryanne walk into the house, since her feet were numb. So were her fingers, judging by the fact that she had a hard time holding the jacket around her shoulders.

"Ryanne, I need to get you out of your wet clothes, all right?" warned Kris, and began taking layers of clothes off the woman.

"J… just need a… hot… b-b-bath," she insisted, a little shy at having the tall soldier she loved see her naked, since she knew that's what would happen.

"Oh, no," said Kris, as she removed the woman's undershirt. "No baths for you, sweetheart. A hot bath will put you into shock, because it's too much of a temperature change too fast," she explained, and moved to unclasp the woman's bra, but Ryanne tried to stop her.

"It's okay, love," Kris persisted, softly, although she was getting impatient. The longer Ryanne had the wet garments on her body, the longer it would be until she could warm up. And time was not on their side. "You have to get out of your wet clothes, Ryanne. Please, let me do this."

Reluctantly, Ryanne moved her hand, which she had placed, haltingly, on Kris', and nodded. Kris gave the woman a soft kiss on her forehead, and took off the woman's garb, tossing it on the floor with the rest of the soggy clothes.

At any other time, Kris would have been taken by the beauty of the young woman in front of her, and she did indeed lose her voice for a moment, but she had other things to concentrate on and, unfortunately, could not take the time to properly admire her love.

Kris couldn't believe that Ryanne was soaked, all the way down to her socks.

I guess I know what that saying "soaked to the bone" means, she thought, wryly.

"All right," said Kris, once the woman was completely disrobed. "Now, into bed." Ryanne eagerly complied, and jumped under the covers, pulling them up to her chin as she shivered, still. Kris was concerned, and realized that the woman would probably need her help to warm up.

"Ryanne, please understand that I am not pushing either of us into anything when I do this, but skin-on-skin contact creates better body heat," Kris said, and Ryanne nodded, her back to the soldier.

"D-don't take this th-the wrong way, but right now I'd s-sleep with Daniel to get warm," said Ryanne, and the tall soldier chuckled. Kris climbed in behind her once she had stripped down to nothing, and wrapped her right arm around the woman's middle, which did not seem to be quite as cold as the rest of her, and spooned herself around the blonde's small, trembling form.

A gasp escaped her throat when the blonde's cold skin made contact with her stomach, but the soldier didn't move. Ryanne reacted to the heat, and snuggled in closer, falling asleep a few hours later, when she was warm enough.

Kris sighed, heavily, and pulled the woman closer to her, enjoying the feeling of the young woman's soft skin against her own. The soldier resisted the urge to move her hand, either up or down, she didn't have a preference, but knew she couldn't.

I'm actually in the same bed with her, we're both bare ass naked, and I have to lay here, feeling her breathe against me, and not be able to do a damn thing, she thought. God's probably laughing His ass off right now.

It's gonna be a long night, she thought.

With another sigh, Kris knew there would be little sleep for her that night.

Ryanne awoke the next morning, feeling much warmer, and very rested. Yawning, she noticed a strong arm wrapped around her stomach, and instantly realized she was naked. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the slumbering soldier was also nude, and their bodies were pressed as close together as was humanly possible.

Kris woke up when she felt Ryanne move around, and met her eyes with a small grin. "Morning," she said, kissing her cheek. "How do you feel?"

"Much better," replied the blonde, and looked a little nervous. "I'm, uh, I'm going to take a warm shower. I can do that, now, right?"

Kris nodded, and Ryanne shyly got up from the bed, walking the short distance to the bathroom with quick steps, quite embarrassed. When the bathroom door was closed, Kris took a deep breath, and stared up at the ceiling.

God, she's beautiful, she thought. She heard the water run, and wondered if she could get away with something very bad. Would she believe me if I told her I wanted to keep an eye on her while she took a shower, just to make sure she was okay, because she seemed a little weak?

Nah, she decided, disheartened. That'd just get me in trouble. Hm…

With some rather naughty thoughts going through her head, Kris vaguely wondered where her sudden interest in seeing Ryanne in the shower had come from, and was startled when she heard the bathroom door open. The tall soldier had meant to at least cover herself by the time the woman was done, if for no other reason than the fact that Ryanne was embarrassed, but it had slipped her mind, and now she was found lying on the bed, completely nude, with nothing to shield her nakedness.

Kris raised an eyebrow when she noticed that Ryanne stood at the foot of the bed, wrapped in only a towel, and was running her green eyes along the lengths of her body.

"You're beautiful," she murmured, and Kris smirked.

"Yeah, well, you've got me beat by a long shot," she said, causing the small woman to blush. "Feeling warmer?"

Oh, yeah… thought the blonde. Wait, that's not what she means…

Ryanne nodded. "I was, until I got out of the shower," she said, smiling.

"Well? Wanna come back in here and warm up?" Kris offered, raising the corner of the blanket, as she climbed under herself. Ryanne gave the woman a small grin, and let the towel fall to the floor as she walked around to the side of the bed. Climbing under the covers, the blonde kissed the tall soldier softly, not caring that they were both nude.

"Thank you for picking me up last night," she said, and Kris just kissed her again. The strong soldier rolled over, so she was on top of the young blonde, holding herself up with her arms. Ryanne's green eyes brightened, and she pulled Kris down for a breathtakingly passionate kiss, full of need and desire.

"Ryanne," she said, her voice low, as she placed small kisses all over the woman's face, "I have to know for sure that you want this. I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, but once I start loving you, I know I won't be able to stop myself," she admitted.

"Good," said the blonde, "because I don't want you to stop."

* * * * *

"That was wonderful," said Kris, a few minutes later, when she had regained her breath. Her head was still resting on the blonde's shoulder, and she was almost lulled asleep by the rhythmic stroking of her long black tresses that Ryanne had taken up, absentmindedly.

Ryanne grinned. "I was thinking more along the lines of breathtaking, exquisite, and incredible, myself," she said, and Kris laughed.

"I was going to say that," she said, lightly. "You just beat me to it."

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure," smiled Ryanne, her grin widening when Kris flipped them over, so she was now on top of the tall soldier. "Do you ever take these things off?" she asked, referring to the woman's dog tags.

"Nope," she replied, raising an eyebrow as Ryanne gave her devilish grin, and ran the chain through her mouth, following it upwards until she broke free to give the woman a long kiss.

The phone rang, startling both women, and Kris growled. "I have to get it," she said, regretfully.

"No, just ignore it," pleaded Ryanne, making her way down the soldier's neck with soft kisses.

"Hold that thought," she said, sliding out from under the blonde, who sighed, heavily, and melodramatically flopped down on the bed. Picking up the receiver, not even bothering to cover herself, she said, "Somebody had better be dead."

"Uh, no, ma'am," came the reply.

"Well, I can fix that," she snarled. "This had better be a goddamn emergency, soldier, or somebody will be dead." From the bedroom, Kris heard Ryanne trying to cover her laughter.

"Okay… Ma'am, this is Private White, and I'm supposed to inform you that your men are outside on the field, waiting for you. You were supposed to be there at 0600 hours," he added.

Kris sighed. I don't believe this, she thought. It's raining cats and dogs outside, I was planning on spending the day in bed with Ryanne, and this little shit interrupts me to tell me he wants me to go play in the mud with a bunch of men? Yeah, right!

"It's raining, Private," she observed, glancing out the window at the hard rain that still fell from the sky. It hadn't let up in over two days.

"Weather conditions don't stop practice, ma'am," he said, and the soldier sighed; she knew that. Only an officer's orders could postpone drilling.

Hm…

"Well, tell them their commanding officer says take the day off. I'll see them tomorrow at 0800 hours," she said, and hung up the phone. Quickly returning to bed, she climbed in beside the blonde, and said, "I love outranking half the base. Now, where were we?"

Chapter Ten

"I think I should get hypothermia more often," joked Ryanne, as she sat in bed, feeding Kris spoonfuls of the Jell-O salad she had made for lunch.

"Mm, I disagree," said Kris, using her own spoon to offer small bites to the blonde. "I don't want you getting sick, I just think we should learn to act on our feelings."

"I stand corrected," laughed the blonde. "Acting on our feelings sure is fun."

Kris chuckled, and leaned in for a kiss. "Definitely," she agreed, wholeheartedly. "Hey, I've got an idea!" she exclaimed, suddenly, and Ryanne urged her to continue with a look. "Let's go on a date. A real date, before Cassidy comes back tomorrow, just the two of us," she suggested.

The blonde smiled. "And just where would we go?" she asked, interested.

"There's a bar not far from here, and it has a really nice private room in the back, where we can go to just be alone," she said. "I was thinking we could go tonight, just to get out for a while."

Ryanne nodded. "Sounds good to me," she said. "When do we leave?"

"How does later tonight sound? Say, around eight?"

Ryanne nodded, and took the bowl from Kris' hands, placing it on the floor. Kris looked confused. The blonde grinned, and raised a suggestive eyebrow at the woman. "We've got a couple hours to kill," she said, leaning toward the woman for a kiss.

* * * * *

Ryanne sighed as she looked around, still seeing no sign of the tall soldier she was looking for. When the woman had received a call from Sergeant Neil Winston just before they left, wishing to discuss his brother, who was still having behavioral problems, she agreed, and told Ryanne to go on to the bar without her, she would meet her there. Ryanne had agreed, thinking it would only take the woman a few minutes, but she'd already been at the bar for over twenty minutes.

She wished Kris would hurry up, because Jeffery Winston was really beginning to creep her out. The man kept staring at her, and when she'd glance over at him to see if he'd left, he'd grin and blow her a kiss, to which she'd roll her eyes and look away.

Playing hard to get, are we? thought Winston, leering at the blonde, again. His brother was off talking to the Captain about one thing or another, so he figured he'd go take care of her problem of being all alone.

"Hey," he said, coming to sit beside her. "What are you doing here all by yourself?"

"I'm not by myself," protested Ryanne. "I'm waiting for someone."

"That so? I'll bet you were waiting for me," he said, and leaned close to her, which caused Ryanne to move a little further down the seat of the booth.

"I don't think so," said Ryanne, uncomfortably.

"You're the one who's staying with Sergeant Jones, aren't you?" he asked her, and she nodded. "Rain, isn't it?"

"Ryanne," she corrected, and he nodded. "But everyone calls me RC." As far as Ryanne was concerned, Kris was the only one who called her by her full name, and it was going to stay that way.

"RC, right," he said. "Don't you get tired of being cooped up with her? I mean, she can be such a pain in the ass."

The blonde paused. "No, I don't think so," she said. "She's really not that bad."

In fact, she's quite good, she thought to herself, smiling. Bad, bad Ryanne!

"I bet you'd be happier staying in my quarters," said Winston, and Ryanne shuddered at the idea. "Don't deny it, I know you want to be with me. I turn you on," he added, and Ryanne laughed.

"Turned on is not what I'm feeling, believe me," she said, snickering. "Repelled is more like it."

"You just don't know me," he said, attempting to touch her cheek, but she pulled away. "We could get to know each other back at my place."

Ryanne rolled her eyes. That was the lamest pick-up line she'd ever heard. Even if she was straight, she would've laughed in his face at his poor attempt.

"No thanks," she said, hoping that each time the door opened it would reveal the woman she was waiting for. No luck, thus far.

"Oh, come on," he said, his words slurring into her ear. "I know you want me."

"You don't know much," the blonde snorted.

"Are you turning me down?" he asked.

Finally, he gets the picture! thought Ryanne. "Yes, I'm turning you down. I do not want to sit next to you, nor do I want to go back to your place, nor do I want to get to know you better. How many different ways can I say it?" she asked, exasperated.

"But… I don't believe this," he muttered. "Why?"

"How can I put this…" she began, and then smirked as she met his eyes. "You don't have the right equipment," she said, glancing down to make her point.

His face fell as realization dawned behind his foggy eyes. "You fucking dyke!" he cried. "You're a no good fag! I don't fucking believe this. You would rather be with a goddamned woman than with me?!" Ryanne nodded, and he snarled at her.

"That's really fucked up, you know. And you've got a kid, too. What the hell are you showing her? She shouldn't be with filth like you," he said, and Ryanne narrowed her eyes at him.

"What are you saying?" she demanded, angry at the man who would doubt her mothering skills.

"I'm saying you're a gay slut, and not fit to have a daughter, that's what I'm saying," he spat, and watched as Ryanne recoiled. "Yeah, you know it's true. How does it feel, knowing you're a bad mother?" he asked, enjoying the look of utter pain on the blonde's face.

The blonde got to her feet quickly, nearly knocking over her chair, and Ryanne decided it was time to leave when a few people at nearby tables started staring. The blonde left the bar in a hurry, climbing into her car for shelter from the rain as she returned to the base, leaving an angry, drunken soldier in her wake.

Fuck with me, will you? thought Winston, as he watched the woman leave. That'll teach you to turn me down. Stupid dyke. I'll bet Sergeant Jones will thank me for telling her, and getting the girl away from her mother, he thought, already formulating a plan.

* * * * *

Kris Jones walked in ten minutes later, furious with herself for being late. She glanced around the room, taking in everything at once, not surprised when she didn't find the blonde she was looking for. She hadn't really expected her to wait when she was over a half hour late.

The tall Sergeant had been delayed first by Neil Winston, when he had insisted on discussing the problem with his brother in detail, and then by the Captain, who joined their conversation, and decided to give Jeff Winston one more chance. Kris learned that Jenkins was having trouble with the soldier as well, and decided he was probably not fit to be on base, but one more mistake and that wouldn't be a problem.

She was about to leave, and head back to the base, where she was going to apologize profusely to her lover for standing her up, when a voice drifted to her ears through the noise of the bar: "Yeah, and Jenkins, too! I don't know how far he's stuck his head up the Captain's ass. You can't tell where one man ends and the other begins!" Sounds of laughter followed the remark.

Winston, thought Kris, placing the slurred voice to a the young soldier formerly under her command. Kris sighed. Winston had to be drunk; either that, or he was just extremely stupid. No one walked around disrespecting anyone, Private, Sergeant, or otherwise, and especially not in a bar with so many Army personnel.

"Hey, Winston," she called, and he turned.

"Yeah?" he asked. He didn't think he had to be formal, since he wasn't in uniform, and he wasn't on the base.

"Lay off Jenkins, okay?" she said, and the man shrugged.

"You don't like him anymore than the rest of us, it's said," he said, approaching her to look in her eyes, despite the fact that the Staff Sergeant was a good four inches taller than him.

Kris just returned his stare. "Whether or not I like him is not an issue here, Winston. The thing is, you don't disrespect anyone, especially when they're unable to defend themselves, and you certainly don't do it around me. Is that clear?"

The man nodded. "Sure," he said. "Sorry. Hey, Jones, I got some news for you," he baited, and Kris raised an eyebrow at him, uninterested.

"That so?" she asked him, and he smirked.

"Yep," he said. His voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know that girl you're housing in your quarters?" Jones nodded. "Did you know…. she's a lesbian?"

It was all the Staff Sergeant could do to keep from laughing out loud. "You don't say," was all she trusted herself to say.

"It's true," he said, "I swear it. She told me." Here Kris looked interested, so he said, "She turned me down, saying I didn't have 'the right equipment'." The tall soldier hid her smile, although it was hard.

"Maybe you should let her go, if that's the case," he said, and Kris could tell by the look in his eyes he wanted to take her place.

Kris decided to play along, it was just too funny for her to believe that the man didn't know. Half the base knew about Ryanne, and mostly all of them knew Kris' lifestyle, so it wasn't often a male felt it was necessary to talk to the woman about a date - they knew she was out of their league.

"I see. What do you think I should do about it?" she asked, placing her hand against the wall, leaning casually up against it as Winston held it up with his back, looking cool and confident.

"Well, I don't know," he said, frowning a little. "Maybe you should take the kid, though, and leave. Don't know if you want the girl around that kind of thing, if you know what I mean. Probably isn't good for her," he added. Kris growled at him, and gave the man a warning glance that said she didn't like where the conversation was headed.

"Hey," he said, raising his hands, defensively, when he caught her gaze, "take it easy. I just thought, you know, maybe you'd like to know what kind of filth you're -" he was cut off when the wind was knocked out of him.

Kris' grin was feral, and she placed both hands on his collar, slamming him up against the wall. "I'm sorry," she said, "what did you say?"

"Whoa, easy. If you like that kind of trash, that's -" he lost his breath again.

Some guys just don't learn, thought Kris.

Jones slammed him against the wall again, much harder this time. "I'm sorry, my hearing must be going. I'm gonna ask you one more time, Winston," she said, taking the time to give him a good solid blow to his stomach, since he was still looking defiant. "What did you say about my girlfriend?"

The man's eyes got wide and he gulped. "N-nothing," he stammered, and Kris smiled, smoothing his shirt out, with a little more force than necessary.

"That's what I thought," she said, and walked away. Turning back, she pointed a finger at the soldier, and said, "One more thing. If I ever, ever, hear of you disrespecting Ryanne again, or questioning the love she has for Cassidy or her worth as a mother, I will rip that scrawny thing you call a head off your shoulders and spit down your neck. You got me?" she snarled.

"Got it, ma'am," said the man, and slipped away.

As Kris was leaving, she heard one of Winston's buddies come up to him. "Damn, boy," said the soldier; more specifically, Don Brown. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Staff Sergeant Jones," he said. "I thought she'd like to know that her roommate is a lesbian, so she could get the kid away from that kind of shit."

His friend chuckled, and shook his head, ruefully. "Man, you are one stupid son of a bitch, do you know that? No one insults RC, I mean no one," he emphasized. "Rumor has it the Captain tried it, and she almost kicked the crap out of him!" The men continued talking, as Kris smiled to herself, and walked back to the base, intent on finding the blonde. It was good to have a reputation.

"Ryanne?" asked Kris, as she entered her quarters. The young blonde was sitting on the couch, her knees curled up to her chest, and did not look up when the soldier called her name. "Hey," said the tall woman, placing a hand on Ryanne's shoulder as she sat down beside her.

Ryanne jumped at the sensation, and then burst into tears, thoroughly surprising Kris, who gathered the woman into her arms, and held her as she cried. "Ryanne? Hey, what's wrong?" asked the soldier, startled by the woman's reaction.

"Do you think I'm a bad mother?" she sniffled, and Kris was shocked.

"What?! No!" she exclaimed, vehemently. "Ryanne, you're a terrific mother! You take care of Cassidy so well I'm jealous," she said, but the blonde didn't smile. "Where'd you get an idea like that?"

"Winston," she said, and Kris narrowed her eyes.

"What happened?" she demanded, wiping the tears from the woman's face with her thumbs.

"He sat down next to me while I was waiting for you," she started, and Kris instantly cursed herself again, for being late. "He started hitting on me, and I told him in no uncertain terms I wasn't interested, and told him he wasn't my type. I said he didn't have the right equipment, and he just blew up," she said, the tears threatening to return. "He called me a dyke, and some other things, and said I wasn't fit to be a mother."

"That's not true," said Kris, pulling the woman closer to her, again. "What else did he call you?"

"A fag, and a bitch, and…" Ryanne was going to go on, but the tears returned, and Kris kissed the top of her head.

"Did he hurt you?" she asked, and let out a breath she didn't realized she was holding when Ryanne shook her head. "I'm sorry, my love. I should've been there. He was just angry, because he considers himself a real ladies' man. Nothing he said was true, Ryanne. You're a great mother, and a wonderful person. Do you know how I know?"

Ryanne shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as Kris smiled.

"Because I don't give me heart away to just anyone," she said, and her smile widened when Ryanne drew her into a tight hug. "I love you, Ryanne, and nothing can change that, okay? Don't let what he said get to you, he's just a jerk."

Ryanne smiled a little. "Thank you," she said, snuggling close to the soldier. "I don't usually let things like that bother me, but no one's ever made a comment about my worth as a mother," she explained.

Kris nodded. "And no one will again," she said, firmly. "He was drunk, that's all. Anyone can tell you love Cassidy with all your heart. You know, I think Winston wanted to get with me tonight," she said, suddenly, and Ryanne looked up at her, urging her to continue. "I ran into him at the bar, and told him to stop insulting Jenkins when he couldn't defend himself, and he decided to inform me of a little secret. He felt the need to tell me that you're a lesbian."

Ryanne snickered. "What'd you do?" she asked, glad that her mood had improved.

"I played along for a minute, until he suggested that I take Cassidy and leave. I, uh, I basically told him that if he ever insulted you again that I'd tear him apart," she shrugged.

Ryanne smiled. "Thanks," she said, "it's nice to know you're protecting me."

"Always." That response earned the tall soldier a soft kiss. "Hey, I'll say it again if it gets me that kind of an answer!" Ryanne grinned, and cuddled closer to the soldier, who was all too happy just to hold the woman in her arms.

"Kris?" asked the blonde, suddenly.

"Hm?"

"How do you feel about Winston knowing about us?" she asked, carefully.

Kris grinned. "Sweetheart, the whole base knows about me, and I think most of them pretty much assume the rest. Does it bother you?" the woman asked, after a moment of silence. The officer knew being homosexual was enough to get her kicked out of the service, but it had been nearly ten years since the Captain had been told, and she had yet to see her dismissal papers. No one cared enough to make anything of it.

Ryanne shook her head. "No, I just didn't know how you felt, since you work here and all," she said, and Kris kissed the top of her head.

"I don't mind it at all, but thank you." Ryanne nodded, and drifted off to sleep, feeling very happy and very safe. Kris stayed awake for a while longer, running her fingers through the short blonde hair of her love, thinking about how lucky she was, and then she, too, fell asleep.

Chapter Eleven

Kris woke up early the next morning, remembering that she had to be out on the field with her men, and wondered what she would say if they asked her why she had canceled the practice.

"Sorry, fellas, I was too busy making love to the woman I love more than anything in the world to do drills with you," she thought, as she finished her breakfast, and chuckled. Oh, yeah. Not like they don't know I'm gay, they just don't know how deeply I care for Ryanne, though I'm sure they assume we've had sex.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Ryanne, sleepily, her green eyes coming into focus as Kris laced up her boots.

"Nothing important," she assured the woman, leaning over to kiss her, softly. "I have to go play in the mud for a while, but I'll be back for lunch, okay? Then you and Cassidy can tell me all about the fun she had with the Captain," she grinned.

"I'll miss you," said Ryanne, and Kris sighed.

"I know," she said. "I'll miss you, too, love. But, I'll be back as soon as I can. Promise," she added, and walked out the door, into the lightly falling rain. Walking out to the field, hearing the mud squish under her boots, Kris knew she was going to get very dirty before lunch time rolled around.

"Okay, guys," she said, upon seeing that all the men - and the one woman she had in this company - were already assembled on the grassy field. "Fall in!" Kris watched as they all scrambled to form their ranks, and the tall soldier looked over her new recruits. Having four days off, thanks to the Captain, had been great, but now it was time to get back to work, and she had a new group of soldiers under her command.

"Attention!" she called, and went through the boring procedure of explaining her commands to the recruits, and telling them what she expected.

"Now, I understand that it's raining, dark, and cold," she said, a while later, "but, you know what? I don't give a damn! I'll work you all so hard you'll sweat, is that clear? The rain will be a welcome feeling," she said, and met the frightened stares of a few of her men with her own steely glaze.

"Everyone get in a straight line behind Parker, in front of the obstacle course," she commanded. "Form it up! Let's go," she said, and they rushed to do as she said. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1, you're done." That was one of her favorite things to do - countdown 5 quick seconds, and if they weren't done, have them go back until they could do it immediately.

"You guys have to learn to follow commands in a flash," she said. "Fall in! Let's try it again, until you get it right. And I can tell you right now, no one's going anywhere until everyone finishes the obstacle course," she added, and was rather pleased when no one made a comment.

Five minutes later, 25 soaked soldiers were standing in a straight line, and one of them was running through the obstacle course, trying hard not to slip and fall in the mud. Unfortunately, the man couldn't make it over the wall, and fell, covering the back of his fatigues in a thick layer of mud.

A few chuckles were heard, and after ordering the man to continue, Kris stalked over to the line. "Does anyone find this funny?" she demanded, and the smiles instantly faded. "You think it's funny when your fellow soldier falls? Parker, come here," she called, and the man stopped climbing over the logs, and jogged over to his commanding officer, standing at attention.

"Parker, take a break, and get some lunch. Return in half an hour. You're dismissed," she said, and the man saluted her, before walking off the field to the commissary for lunch.

"And as for the rest of you, I think some drilling is in order," she said. "We're going to skip the obstacle course for now," looks of relief could be seen, "and go straight to the combat techniques. That means learning how to drop to the ground, roll, and crawl." The relieved looks were replaced with bewilderment. "So, everyone fall in, and let's go get real personal with our friend the mud."

As the soldiers formed their ranks, Kris grinned to herself. Her company would learn they had to work together, and be a team, even if they never had lunch.

"When I call drop, each and every one of you is going to fall into the forward leaning rest position, as if you were going to do a pushup," she explained, stepping between the lines, making sure there was enough room between each soldier so they wouldn't hit each other. "Who knows, I may even have you do a couple pushups since you're down there; we'll see.

"And when I say crawl, you're all going to crawl on your bellies, forward, until I tell you to stop," she continued. "Eventually, I'll tell you to recover, and you can get to your feet. Then, I'll call each of you to come forward, drop, and then roll a little ways in each direction. Ready? Too bad. Let's go," she smiled.

"Platoon, drop!" she barked, and they all fell to the ground, supporting themselves with their arms so they wouldn't land flat on their faces. "Crawl!" she commanded, and started calling out the cadence, before telling them to recover.

Doing that for nearly half an hour, Kris waited until Parker returned, and starting calling them all individually to roll. "The rest of you will remain at attention," she said, "is that understood?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" they shouted, and she nodded.

"Good," she said. "Parker!" The man stepped forward. "Drop!" He did, immediately. "Roll left! Halt! Roll right!" When she felt he was done, she told him to fall back into his place, and called on the next soldier in line.

That went on for another half an hour, and then their Sergeant made them do teamwork commands, where they were all punished with pushups if one of them messed up. Kris led them in that exercise until her watch told her it was one in the afternoon, and she called a halt.

"I hope you've all learned that we have to work together," she said. "You're dismissed until 1400 hours." Giving them an hour lunch, she watched as they saluted her, and then the officer made her way back to her own quarters.

As she neared the door, she heard voices coming from inside: Ryanne, the Captain, and his wife, if she remembered correctly. Opening the door, she came to attention when she saw her superior officer standing in the living room, speaking with Ryanne.

Mark Bowman glanced up, hearing Kris enter, and smiled. She was the best soldier he had. "At ease, Sergeant," he said, and she walked into her bedroom. "This is your room, Jones, you don't have to be formal here."

"Sir," she acknowledged. Grinning at the man's wife, whom she had always gotten along with, she said, "Mrs. Sir." Beverly smiled at her. Spying Ryanne, her grin widened, and she leaned over to place a quick kiss on her lips.

"Love," she greeted, and chuckled at the slight blush that covered the blonde's cheeks. Cassidy heard the soldier's voice, and came running out from the bedroom, jumping into her arms. "Pip-squeak!" exclaimed Kris, spinning her around as she hugged her.

"Hey, I'm all dirty," she said. "Your mom's gonna get mad." Cassidy just hugged her tighter. "Sweetie, I need to breathe," she laughed, and set the girl on the floor. Seeing the child follow her into the bedroom, she asked, with a raised eyebrow, "Oh, are you going to help me wash up?" to which Cassidy nodded.

"Did you have a good time with the Captain?" Kris asked, as she washed her hands, rolling up her sleeves so she could wash up to her elbows. Cassidy nodded, happily. "That's good. They're nice people, huh?" Another nod.

"Do I have any dirt on my face?" she asked, and Cassidy giggled. "I guess that's a yes," smiled Kris. Handing the girl a wet washcloth and dropping to one knee so the girl could reach, Kris asked her to get the mud from her face for her. Scrubbing softly, Cassidy removed dirt from the tall soldier's cheeks, forehead, and even her hair, before gesturing that she was done.

"Thanks, pip-squeak," said Kris, and Cassidy grinned. "Have you guys eaten lunch, yet?"

"Yeah," came the response, from the blonde standing at the doorway, grinning broadly at the sight of her daughter wiping the grime from her lover's face.

Kris got to her feet with a slight grin, and took Cassidy's hand in her own. "Well, then I guess it's just me, huh?" she asked, smirking.

"Sorry, love, but the Captain wanted to eat with us, and we expected you back by noon," said Ryanne, and Kris smiled.

"It's okay," assured the soldier, taking the time to give her lover a more passionate kiss. "I don't mind. Did they leave?" she asked, wondering if Ryanne had left the company on their own in the living room.

The blonde nodded. "Yeah," she said. "They told me to tell you hi and bye, and they thanked us both for allowing Cassidy to stay with them for a while," she added. There was a knock at the door, and Ryanne said, "I'll get it. You eat." Kris agreed, and wandered to the kitchen, Cassidy close behind, as Ryanne answered the door.

A few moments later, Ryanne came in, looking confused. "Kris, there's a woman here to see you," she voiced. "She says she's your mother." The tall soldier's face hardened, and her eyes narrowed, as she left the half-made sandwich on the counter and started walking out to the living room.

"Keep her here," she said, nodding to Cassidy, and Ryanne acquiesced.

Walking out to the adjoining room, and seeing the elderly woman sitting on the couch, Kris felt a small pang of hurt in her heart. It had been many years since she'd seen the woman, with black hair that had since turned gray, and blue eyes which had seemed to age, and the soldier wasn't sure what to expect. A visit out of the blue had her wary.

"Kris!" she exclaimed, standing, and the soldier merely looked at her, as she sat down in the chair across from her. "I knew you wouldn't want to see me," she sighed.

Kris sighed, heavily. "It's not that I don't want to see you, mother, it's just that the last time we spoke, you disowned me," she said, tonelessly. "I wasn't expecting to see you again, and certainly not without a phone call or something first. What do you want?" she asked.

Noreen Jones looked hurt. "Do I have to want anything, other than to know how my daughter is doing?" she asked, and Kris raised an eyebrow at her, skeptically. "Listen, honey, I know I said some mean things, but that was such a long time ago."

"It still hurts," Kris said, quietly, before she could stop herself. She hadn't wanted to let anyone know that what her mother thought still mattered to her.

"I know, Kris," sighed the older woman. "And I'm sorry, really I am," she insisted.

"Do you accept me for who I am?" she demanded, and her mother nodded. "For who I love?" she continued, and saw the woman pause. Kris sighed. "Until you can do that, mother, we have nothing to talk about."

"That woman who answered the door, are you with her?"

Kris nodded. "Yes," she said. "Her name is Ryanne, and I love her very much."

"You look good, Kris," smiled her mother. "I'm glad you're happy."

The soldier sighed. "Listen, mom, I think you're trying, and I'm glad you are. But, now is not the best time, and not here. I'll give you my phone number at home, and you can call me later tonight, and we'll see if we can arrange something, okay?" she offered, and her mother nodded.

"That would be great, dear," she said, and Kris scribbled her number on a piece of paper, handing it to the older version of herself.

"How's Dad?" asked Kris, after a moment of silence.

Noreen looked down. "Not so good, I'm afraid," came the response. "I visit him as often as I can, but he doesn't remember me every other time I go. The doctor says it won't be too much longer," she said, quietly, and a tear ran down her face.

"I'll stop by if I can," said Kris, giving her mother a quick hug. "Thanks, Mom, for trying. I'd like you to meet Ryanne," she added, and after a slight pause, Noreen agreed.

"I'd like that," she said.

"Ryanne, can you come here for a minute, love?" she called, and added, "Cassidy, too." A few moments later, mother and daughter walked into the living room, Ryanne carrying Kris' finished sandwich in one hand.

"No mayonnaise and extra mustard," she said, softly, giving the soldier a quick kiss, placing the plate on the coffee table.

"Thanks," grinned the tall soldier, putting her arm around the small blonde. "Ryanne, this is my mother, Noreen Jones. Mother, this is Ryanne Cole, and her daughter, Cassidy."

The blonde and the older woman shook hands, and Noreen did the same with Cassidy, who looked at her, strangely. Pointing to Kris, then to Noreen, she made the sign for "Mother", and Ryanne nodded.

"Yes, sweetheart," she said, "Mrs. Jones is Kris' mother." Cassidy accepted this, and gave the woman a large smile.

"Call me Noreen, please," said the aging woman, and Ryanne nodded. "You have a beautiful daughter. How old is she?"

"Thank you, Noreen," said the blonde, smiling a little. She hoped Kris and Noreen would be able to put aside whatever problems they had had, and start again, on better terms. "Cassidy is four years old."

"She reminds me of Kris at that age," smiled Noreen, and Kris groaned, earning a chuckle from her young lover.

"Really?"

Kris took her sandwich and sat down at the table. "I'm not hearing any of this," she proclaimed, sulking as she ate her lunch. As she was chewing on the first bite, there was a knock at the door, and she leapt for it.

Opening the door, the soldier was startled to see a man, resembling Daniel, only sober. He was a little thinner than the other man, and had kinder eyes, but at any rate, Kris didn't recognize him, and was wary.

"Can I help you?" she asked, cautiously.

"Is RC here?" he asked, and Kris frowned.

"That depends," she said. "Who are you?"

"Just a friend," he said, and attempted to brush past the tall woman.

"Wrong move, friend," she spat, grabbing the collar of his shirt and slamming him up against the wall. "I am not in the best of moods at the moment, and you don't want to fuck with me, trust me. Either you give me a name, or I'll rip your arm off and beat you with it," she growled.

"Now," she ordered, when he hesitated.

"Barry," the man choked. "Barry Lincoln."

Kris raised an eyebrow at him. "Barry, huh?" she mused, remembering the name from a few of Ryanne's phone calls. "All right," she said, releasing him. "Sorry about that."

"You must be Kris," the man grinned, and Kris nodded. "Tall, dark, and beautiful," he sighed, thinking. "Yep, she was right. But, I think she forgot deadly." Kris smiled, and led the man into the living room.

"Mouse!" the man exclaimed, upon seeing Cassidy, and the girl ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist. "Hi, doll. My, you've grown up so big since the last time I saw you! How old are you now, 15, 16?" he asked, and Cassidy giggled, shaking her head and holding up five fingers. The girl would, in fact, be five in just a few weeks.

"Five?" he asked, and staggered back in exaggerated shock. "My God, you're old! Half way to ten," he observed, and Ryanne shoved him, playfully.

"Don't remind me," she groaned, and gave the man a strong hug. "Hey, Barry. How are you doing?"

"Couldn't be better, girlfriend," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Remember George?" Ryanne nodded. "Well, he's moved in with me!"

"That's great, Bear!" she exclaimed, giving him another hug. "So, George must be pretty great, hm?" Barry blushed, and nodded. Ryanne laughed, and noticed that Noreen was watching the interaction, warily.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Noreen! Noreen, this is my best friend, Barry. Bear, this is Kris' mother, Noreen," she introduced, and he winked at her.

"Meeting the in-laws, are you?" he joked, and laughed when the woman blushed. "Nice to meet you," he said, shaking the woman's hand. "And I've already met you," he told Kris, pulling his hand back, protectively.

The soldier laughed. "Sorry about that," she repeated. "But you'll learn real fast that you don't mess with me, not when it comes to Cassidy or Ryanne. Crap," she sighed, glancing at her watch. "I hate to go, but I've got to finish my lunch and then head back out to the field. Barry, is it still raining out there?"

The man shook his head. "No, only drizzling," he said. Kris nodded, wolfed down her sandwich, and then jogged out to the field, hugging the women goodbye, and shaking Barry's hand - gently - on her way out. She arrived moments before her soldiers, and went to work on the obstacle course, having Parker stand last in line, since he'd already gone.

When they were finished, she jogged them around the field a few times, unaware of the four people who stood, watching her.

"She's really something," said Barry, whistling through his teeth. "Why, if I was straight…" Ryanne frowned at him, and slapped the back of his head, making him laugh. "Kidding, RC, kidding," he assured her, holding his hands up to block another blow.

"You keep that up, and I'll tell Staff Sergeant Jones she has another recruit," Ryanne threatened, and the man balked.

"Me? Out there? Doing that?" Ryanne nodded, and Barry shook his head. "Huh-uh, I don't think so, honey," he said. "I'd break a nail!"

Ryanne laughed. "You are such a queen, Bear," she said, and the man nodded.

"It keeps George interested," he bragged, and Ryanne rolled her eyes, still laughing.

Noreen watched the scene with interest. Ryanne seemed to be a very lovely and nice woman, and it was obvious she loved Kris with all her heart. Cassidy was sweet, but quiet, and Barry… well, the woman wasn't quite sure what to make of that one. He seemed nice enough, but he was a wee bit odd, she thought.

The older woman chuckled at the look on their faces when Kris became too hot for her camouflage jacket, and threw it to the ground, showing off the muscles in her arms and back under the gray T-shirt she now wore.

"If you two don't pick your tongues up off the ground, you'll trip," she warned, laughing as they both blushed at being caught. "It was nice to meet you all," she said, "but I really must be going. I'll call later tonight," she told Ryanne, and walked from the field, her heart proud at what her daughter had become.

Chapter Twelve

Ryanne and Cassidy stayed out on the field, until Barry said he had to be getting back, since George was expecting him. Hugs were exchanged, and then the two girls walked off the field, heading back to Kris' quarters to pack a few things, since Ryanne figured they would be heading back to the soldier's home later that night.

While the soldier worked at the base, she usually came home to Ryanne and Cassidy each night. They only stayed at the base overnight when the soldier had a few days off, and wanted to be around in case she was needed.

"Come on, Cassidy," said the blonde, leading her daughter inside. "Let's make sure we have everything, okay?" The girl nodded, and climbed under Kris' bed to find some of her stuffed animals. She handed them out to her mother, who placed them in the girl's suitcase. When that was finished, Cassidy received her clothes from her mother, and put them in with her toys.

Ryanne was retrieving some of her clothes from the closet, when she heard the door open, and wondered why Kris was back so early.

"Forget something?" she called from the bedroom, assuming it was the tall soldier returning for an item she had left behind.

"Yeah," came a harsh voice, and Ryanne looked up, startled to see a stingy looking Daniel standing in the doorway of the bedroom. "Forgot my daughter."

"Daniel, what are you doing here?" she asked, putting a hand on Cassidy's shoulder as she stepped in front of her. "How did you find us?"

"That bitch wore her damn cameo outfit," he slurred. "Not hard to find the Army base, and then I just asked a few buddies."

"But, that was a year ago," she said.

"Yeah, had to get some things done," he shrugged. "You know, find out some information, talk to the right people… how's the bitch's shoulder, anyway? Still a little shaky?" he scoffed. "God, it was great to see her bleed like that!" Ryanne flinched. "Damn, I thought I was gonna lose her right there!" He sounded disappointed. "Bitch is strong, but I'm stronger."

"So, why are you here?" asked Ryanne, trying to keep him talking. "Do you want a rematch with her?"

"I want my daughter, you whore!" he cried, angrily, and took a step forward. "She's my daughter, and I have a right to see her, I don't give a fuck what the goddamn restraining order says!" he cursed.

"Daniel, I can't let you see her," she said, quietly. "You'd only hurt her, and I can't let that happen."

The man sneered at her, his eyes wild. "You can't let that happen?" he mocked, and slapped her hard across the face. "I'll do whatever the hell I want, do you understand me? If I want to see my daughter, I'll do it. If I want to blow your fucking brains all over this room, I'll do it," he added, withdrawing a black pistol from the waistband of his grimy jeans.

Ryanne swallowed, and slowly got to her feet, once again standing in front of her daughter, ready to take a bullet if she had to, if it meant saving Cassidy's life.

"Daniel," she began, "please don't…"

"Get the fuck out of my way," he swore, pushing her down to the floor with ease. Grabbing Cassidy's arm, he proceeded to drag her out of the room. The girl bit down on his hand as hard as she could, at the fleshy muscle between his thumb and forefinger, and he howled in pain, shoving her hard enough to send her sprawling onto the bed.

"Little bitch!" Approaching both of them, he proceeded to hit Ryanne hard enough to bloody her lip, give Cassidy a solid smack for good measure, and then he picked the child up by her wrist, aiming the pistol at her chest.

"You ever try that again, and I'll put a hole through you, got me?" he threatened. Cassidy nodded, trying to dry her tears as she cried, both because the man had hurt her, but mostly because he had hurt her mother.

"Goddamn son of a bitch!" was heard, and suddenly, the man flew backwards into the wall, as six-feet of rage came straight for him. "I told you what I'd do if you hurt them again. I never break my promises," Kris growled.

The man drew his hand back, and connected the butt of his pistol with the woman's jaw, causing her to stumble back a few feet. "You don't have a gun, this time, bitch," he stated, smiling.

"I don't have to have a gun, ass hole," she countered. "I'm going to reach down your throat, rip out your spine, and beat you to a bloody pulp."

"The playing field's level, now. I've got the gun," he pointed out, steadying the weapon at her chest.

"Yeah, well, you're wrong. We're still not even, 'cause I've got the brains," she said, grabbing the barrel of the gun and pointing it upwards when she noticed the hammer was not cocked, before wrenching it out of his grip. Aiming it at his head, she pulled back the hammer, and the man started laughing, loudly.

"Go ahead," he said, "it's not loaded." Frowning, Kris released the chamber, and, sure enough, all six were empty.

"Son of a bitch," she cursed, again, throwing the gun across the room. "Okay. Back to basics." Punching the man in the gut, she dodged a right hook to her face, and brought her elbow around to meet Daniel's nose, hard. Blood spurted out through his fingers as he held his hands over the injury, and he backed away, as Kris turned her attention to the other occupants in the room.

"Are you okay?" she asked, worried by the trail of blood down Ryanne's chin, and the bruise on Cassidy's cheek. Seeing the red mark on the child's wrist, she enveloped the girl in a strong hug, whispering into her ear how sorry she was.

"We're all right," nodded Ryanne, and Kris kissed her forehead, softly. The blonde's green eyes widened, and she was going to say something, but didn't have time, before Daniel grabbed a fistful of the soldier's hair, and yanked her backwards, dragging her across the floor.

With a low snarl, Kris jabbed her elbow back, catching the man in the knee, sending him crashing to the ground with a sickening "pop".

"On your feet," she ordered, grabbing the man's shirt and hauling him unceremoniously to his feet, just to punch him in the gut. "How dare you come into my quarters and harm the people I love. You're lucky murder's illegal," she said.

"You… murdered my friend," he choked, and Kris was suddenly aware of startled green eyes, boring into her back.

"That was self-defense, moron," she said. "If it wasn't, do you think I would have stopped with just one? But be glad that gun wasn't loaded; otherwise, you'd have six extra holes in your body.

"Now, don't move a muscle," she said, tossing him to the ground. "I'm calling security. If you so much as twitch, I'll be sure to break something vitally important to your survival," she threatened, and kept an eye on the man as she went to the phone.

"Already done, ma'am," came a voice, and Kris glanced up to see one of her soldiers standing there. They had been jogging around the route that the upcoming Veteran's Day parade would take, and Kris noticed her door was open, so she stopped in to investigate. She assumed her men had gone on as she'd instructed, but, apparently, they had not.

"You called security, Parker?" she asked, and the man nodded.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," he said. "They're here, now." Stepping aside, the man allowed two officers to enter, as Daniel made a move to get to his feet. Before anyone in the room had an inkling of what was going on, Kris pounced, knocking the man to the ground.

"I said don't move," she growled.

"We'll take it from here," said an officer, as they drew their guns. "Soldier," came the sharp command, when she hesitated, "stand down!" Kris released Daniel, and walked back to the bedroom as the security officers took care of business.

"Here," said Kris, handing Ryanne a small bag of ice, "keep that on your lip." The blonde nodded, and sank into the soldier's embrace, as Cassidy climbed on the tall woman's lap.

"Are you okay, pip-squeak?" The girl nodded, and Kris kissed her forehead. "Good," she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Kris, why did you come back?" asked Ryanne, quietly.

"I was taking the men over the parade route, which goes right past here, and thought it was odd that the door was open, so I figured I'd check it out," she shrugged. "I walked in and saw him here, hurting Cassidy." Her fists clenched at the anger, still present, until Ryanne put a gentle hand on her arm.

"Thank you," she said, kissing the soldier's cheek. There was silence for a moment, and then, "Kris, what did he mean, when he said you murdered his friend? What was he talking about?"

Kris sighed. "The first guy who attacked me, when I went to get Cassidy from Daniel's house, had a knife. I kicked him in the throat to disarm him, and collapsed his windpipe," she explained. "There was nothing to be done."

"I understand," said the woman, slipping an arm around the soldier's waist, holding the ice to her lip with the other, giving the tall woman a quick hug. "Kris, do you think we could go home, now?"

The soldier nodded. "I can drive you home, if you'd like, but I need to come back here later," she said. "The Captain mentioned that he wanted to speak with me, as soon as possible, so I figured I may as well get it over with tonight."

"I think I'd rather just go," said Ryanne, and Kris nodded. "I can drive, though, if you want to stay here and talk to the Captain."

Kris looked at her, seriously. "Are you sure you can drive home okay?" The blonde nodded, and the soldier sighed. "All right," she said. "I'll dismiss my men as soon as I can, talk to the Captain, and be home in no time. Be careful," she added, placing a gentle kiss on the woman's forehead, and then Cassidy's.

"You, too," said Ryanne, giving the woman a quick hug as they left.

"Ryanne," called Kris, and the blonde turned back, just outside the door. "I love you," said the soldier, softly.

Ryanne smiled. "I love you, too," she said. "See you at home." Not long after she closed the door, there was a hesitant knock.

Kris frowned. "Come in," she said, as she examined the bruise already forming on her jaw, and felt the throbbing pain in the back of her head, where the man had grabbed her hair.

Private Timothy Parker walked in. "Ma'am!" he said, coming to attention in her doorway, respectfully.

"At ease, soldier," she said, standing. "What can I do for you?"

"Permission to speak freely, ma'am," he requested.

Kris raised an eyebrow, but said, "Granted."

"Ma'am, the boys and I have been talking, and we've decided that, if it's all right with you, we'd like to postpone our training and drilling until a later date," he said, quietly.

"Mind if I ask why?"

"It would only be for a day or two, ma'am," he added, trying to sell the idea to her. "We thought that would give you some time to take care of whatever you needed to with RC and Cassidy, as well as whatever personal issues you may need to handle," he concluded.

Sergeant Jones smiled at the young man. "Private, I appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to say no to your proposal. Work will continue as usual, since we need the practice before the parade this weekend, and I will handle whatever "issues" I have on my own time," she said, and he saluted her.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" he replied.

"Parker, you're a good man," she said, motioning for him to lead the way as they returned to the field. "Stay that way."

"Yes, ma'am," he smiled, trying to keep his beaming low as he walked beside her. It wasn't often his commanding officer gave out compliments, so he knew she was proud. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Don't let it go to your head," she grinned, and barked, "Fall in!" The company scattered to their ranks, making it well before the 5 second count Kris was counting off in her mind.

"Okay, grunts," she began, "we're going to go over the parade route one more time, since we were so rudely interrupted last time. This parade is very important, and our place in it should be treated with honor and respect. If I hear of anyone making light of this, they'll answer to me, is that understood?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" they shouted.

"Good, now, let's go." Calling out the cadence, Kris led them on a slow jog around the compound, taking the streets they would march during the parade. The Armed Force's Day parade was held every year, and members from all branches of the military were welcome to join, whether they were currently serving, or retired. They marched around while the Navy, Army, Air Force, and Marine themes were alternately playing in the background.

Kris' personal favorite was the Army's theme. She'd always liked it. And the parade had always meant a little more to her, because her father was killed in war, while serving in the Army. He was active in the last year of the Vietnam War, and Kris was born just before her mother received word that he had been killed. She remarried not long after, to the man that Kris called "Dad", who was now in a nursing home with Alzheimer's disease.

With a shake of her head, Kris realized that her men were standing at attention, waiting patiently for her command. Glancing up, she saw it was almost dark, or would have been, had it not been so overcast as to be dark all day.

She sighed. "One hour of drilling, and then you can report to the classroom," she said, and her men resounded their agreement, as she grinned. With Jeffery Winston off base with an administrative discharge, meaning he was beginning to tick everyone off and they figured he was no longer an asset to the military so they finally got rid of him, Kris thought all recruits were pretty well behaved.

The time passed slowly, and Kris called a halt a half-hour later, deciding she didn't want to be out there any longer - she wanted to go home, and the longer she was out on the field, the longer it would be before she got to see Ryanne.

"Fall out to the classroom," she said, and they all saluted her, before about-facing, and walking off the field and into the room that served as the classroom. They usually had anywhere from three to five hours of classroom time a day, save the first day, and Kris normally had to be nearby while they were learning. If anyone caused problems, or fell asleep, the instructor sent the entire squad out into the field, where, if it was her company, she drilled them until they'd never fall asleep or cause trouble again. Her former recruits had learned that the hard way.

However, since it was later than usual, she really didn't care, and figured another officer could take care of her men and give her a report in the morning, if anything happened.

As she was walking to the Captain's office, Jenkins stopped her. "Ma'am," he said, "may I speak to you for a moment?"

Kris sighed, and nodded. "Make it quick," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," agreed the soldier. The man had become a little more bearable since Kris' injury, and the soldier decided he wasn't half bad, even if he had been known to cheat on his wife.

"I heard about what happened today," he said, "with the man security brought in, and RC. Heard he had a gun, and went a little crazy in your quarters, until you showed up. Are RC and Cassidy all right, ma'am?"

Kris nodded. "They're fine, Jenkins. Thank you for asking," she added.

"And you, ma'am? That's a fine looking bruise," he said, referring to her jaw.

The woman shrugged. "I'm all right," she said, curtly. "Anything else?"

Jenkins sighed, and took a chance. "Permission to speak freely, ma'am?" he asked.

Kris sighed. What was it with people and wanting to talk to her today? "Granted," she heard herself say.

"Sergeant Jones, I know you don't think much of me, because you think I've cheated on my wife with Nancy, my secretary," he said, and Kris narrowed her eyes at the man. "If you'll notice, I no longer wear my wedding band. My wife and I are divorced, and have been for quite a while now.

"When you first suspected me of cheating, and questioned Nancy, she told you I was married, because I was. But my wife and I had been separated for over a year," he told her. "So, with all respect, I'd like it if you would treat me with the honor, however much you think I deserve, for the soldier I am, not the man you think I was. Ma'am," he finished, as an afterthought, which Kris let slide with an inner smirk.

Kris' face remained impassive, although she was taken aback by the unusually long speech by the soldier. "Sergeant Jenkins, I apologize," she said, honestly. "I jumped to the wrong conclusion, and I should have consulted you first. I'm sorry."

Jenkins grinned. "It's okay, ma'am," he said. "I'm just glad you didn't lop my head off for confronting you like that," he admitted.

"Nah, those days are long gone," smiled Kris, patting the man on the back.

"Yeah," he said. "Thirteen months gone." The tall woman raised an eyebrow at him. "Sergeant, you've been different since you met RC. I think the men on this base actually think you're human, now, instead of some kind of God," he said, and Kris laughed.

"See? You laugh, too," he observed. "I don't think I ever heard you laugh, or saw you smile, until just over a year ago. She's been good for you, you old war-horse," he joked.

Blue eyes regarded him, coolly. "Watch it, soldier," she growled. "She hasn't been that good for me."

Ronald Jenkins gulped. "Yes, ma'am," he said, quietly, and Kris smiled.

"Kidding, Ron," she said, using his first name for the first time. "Now, is there anything else you need, or can I go get my butt chewed by the Captain?"

The man shook his head. "Nothing at all, thanks," he said. "Good luck."

"Thanks," said Kris, and they saluted each other as she walked away, feeling a little bit better about that man, whom she'd noticed Ryanne had come to call friend. Actually, the young blonde had befriended most everyone on the base, but Ronald Jenkins and Robert Thompson seemed to be the closest to her.

Must be her natural magnetism to everyone around her, she mused.

Standing outside the Captain's door, Kris knocked, and entered when a muffled voice from within told her to.

"Sir," she said, coming to attention.

"Sergeant Jones, sit down," said Mark, sitting behind his desk, and motioning to the chair in front of him. Kris did as she was told. "We need to talk."

Uh-oh, was the only thought running through the soldier's mind, as she sat, staring at the broad man who held her future in his hands. The look he was giving her didn't seem happy.

"Yes, sir," she swallowed.

"Kris, I'm going to level with you," he began. "I haven't spoken with anyone about this yet, not even Staff Sergeant Winston, and I'm glad you decided to stop by so soon. Now, if you watch the news, than you know that the peace talks between North and South Korea, as well as Kosovo, and a few other countries over across the way, have failed."

Miserably, she agreed.

Kris nodded; she knew. "Yes, sir, I've heard," she confirmed. "The negotiations have finally fallen through."

Captain Bowman nodded. "That's right," he said. "What the public doesn't know, however, and what I just found out a few days ago, is that we've got a little war on our hands over there."

"War, sir?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Kris, I think we've known each other long enough, and this is a serious enough situation, you can call me Mark," he said, and Kris nodded, acknowledging the request for sounding casual.

"Mark, that's a three-letter word I never wanted to hear directed at me," she said, and the man nodded.

"I know," he sighed. "The President has said he wants to send reinforcements for the men we already have over there, the ones who were just monitoring the situation, because they need more help now that we've got a war on our hands. He needs as many people as he can get, and he wants the best."

"Suddenly, I'd rather be Private," she said.

The Captain agreed with her. "So would I, Sergeant. So would I."

"So, where do I come in, in all this, anyway?"

"You're the best I've got, Jones," he said, and Kris felt anything but flattered. "I want you to take as many men as you want, I'll let you make up the roster, and fly out there to help. I can't guarantee you how long you'll be out there, but it will only be until the public finds out, so we can send the rest of our guys to back you all up," he added.

Kris thought for a moment. "What equipment do we have? Tanks, planes, bombers, what?" she asked.

Mark looked away. "We can't bring in much of the heavy stuff," he admitted, "at least, not yet. One," he said, counting the numbers on his fingers as he went along, "it'll alert the press like a smoke signal if we start flying planes out of here and dispatching tanks,"

Kris interrupted him. "Alert the press? Planes? How the hell do they think we're going to get there… walk??" she demanded.

Mark continued as though she hadn't said anything, "And two, they're not entirely ready yet."

The tall soldier got to her feet. "What do you mean, they're not ready yet? They're goddamn Army tanks!" she exclaimed. "They're supposed to be prepared for war. That's what this is, Mark, it's war, and you're telling me I have to go in there with a bunch of fucking ground troops??" she demanded. "That's bullshit!"

"Lower your voice," said the Captain, and Kris took a deep breath, dropping back into her chair, putting her head in her hands. "I'm just as upset about this as you are, believe me, but this has to be done."

"Are you ordering me, Mark?"

"No," sighed the man, meeting her tired blue eyes. "I'm asking you."

Kris sighed. "I wish you'd order me," she said. "That way I could ignore it and just get discharged, since you know I won't let you down if you ask me. What kind of conditions am I going to be working in?"

"You know all about the Vietnam War, I'm sure," he said, and Kris rolled her eyes, to say of course she did. "Well, it'll be very similar to that, and the Korean War, except with bigger guns."

"But, don't they have any advanced machinery?"

"Not much different than 30 years ago, no," he confirmed, and Kris was surprised. "They do have some equipment that's capable of bombing towns, and they use it for forest area, usually, but it's not very accurate, and sometimes doesn't operate properly."

"Thank God for poor foreign war materials," she said, tonelessly. "Okay, that's the military view, now what do I expect terrain wise?"

"Trees, hills, and some flat land," said the Captain, flipping through a stack of papers on his desk. "You can dig trenches if you want, and fox holes, but lean-tos will be okay, as well. It rains often, and is humid, so you're going to be hot as Hell, I'm sure.

"I've gotten reports that say most of their attacks are done at night, and daytime is the best time to move," he suggested. "But, once you get there, you can get a feel for it, and decided what's best."

Kris sighed. "Can I use up all my sick days that I've saved up for the past God knows how many years?" she asked, joking. The Captain chuckled, but he knew he could count on her. "All right," she sighed, getting to her feet, "I'll do it."

"What will you tell RC?" asked the man, as he shook her hand.

"I'll tell her, I just don't know how," she admitted. "Hey, Mark, I'll do this on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You find a way to guarantee that letters can be sent back and forth," she said. "I want to be able to correspond with her, and keep up with Cassidy. If I can't keep in touch with them, if they have no way of knowing that I'm okay, I won't go. I won't put that kind of worry on them," she said.

Mark smiled. "I'm sure I can arrange something," he said. "A chopper goes in every few days, to a safe strip of land that they consider holy and won't fire upon, or something. For whatever reason, the chopper's safe to go in and collect the wounded and deliver supplies as needed. I can send a mail bag with the pilot, I'm sure."

Kris grinned. "Well, you've got yourself a deal, then," she said, saluting her commanding officer.

"Kris," he called, as she left, and she turned to him.

"Sir?"

"I'll see you Thursday at 0900 hours," he said, and she nodded, before closing the door softly behind her.

Thursday, she thought. That's just the day after tomorrow. I've barely got 36 hours to figure out who's going with me, pack my things, and tell Ryanne. God, how am I going to tell her…?

Chapter Thirteen

When Kris returned home, she was surprised to find that her mother had left several messages, leaving her phone number with Ryanne each time, and asking her to be sure to tell Kris to call her back as soon as she got in. After checking on Ryanne and her slumbering daughter, the soldier did just that.

"Hello?" answered Noreen, on the second ring.

"Hi, mom," said Kris. "It's me."

"Oh, thank goodness," said her mother. "It's your father, dear. I'm afraid he's taken a turn for the worse."

"Damn," sighed Kris. I don't need this. God, don't do this. Not now. "How bad is he?"

"The doctors don't expect him to make it through the night," Noreen said, stifling a sob.

"What happened?"

"He had a severe stroke. He can't move his left side, and he can't speak," said the woman. "The nurses at the home called the paramedics, and I'm here at St. Paul's Hospital, now," she added.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," promised Kris, as she hung up, and rested her head in her hands for a moment. Sensing Ryanne beside her, and feeling the woman's hand slip into her own, she said, "I have to go. I'll be back soon, I hope, but don't wait up, okay? I've got some work to do when I get back. Good night," she said, kissing the blonde's forehead as she rushed out the door.

Driving carefully, Kris arrived at the hospital twenty minutes later, and hurried to find the room of Jacob Jones. Entering quietly, she saw her mother by the bedside of an elderly gentleman, with thinning white hair and a gentle wrinkled face, and gray eyes, which were presently closed. No tubes or wires were hooked up to him, which surprised Kris, but then she figured he was on a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order.

Noreen looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and met the sad eyes of her tall child with her own tearful eyes.

"Jacob," she said, softly, rubbing the man's shoulder through his hospital gown, "look who's here."

Weak eyes opened, and seemed to glance, unfocused, around the room; until they landed on Kris. Upon spotting the tall soldier, the man visibly brightened, and mouthed her name.

Kris grinned - he knew who she was! "That's right, Dad," she smiled. "It's been a long two years, hasn't it? Hey," she said, winking, "looks like you've got some pretty little nurses here. You behave yourself." The man smiled as best he could, and pointed to the woman, as if to say "You, too".

The soldier chuckled, and held her hands up in her defense. "Not me," she said. "I'm spoken for." At the raised eyebrow of Jacob, she continued, "Her name is Ryanne, and I love her with all my heart."

Jacob nodded his approval, and suddenly looked very tired. He tried to say something, but Kris couldn't hear him, so she leaned closer. The man whispered haltingly into her ear, and the soldier pulled back, tears brimming in her cobalt blue eyes.

Wiping her face of any emotion, Kris came to attention, and saluted her father. Slowly, the man raised his right hand, and returned the gesture, before reaching for the soldier's hand, which she supplied with no hesitation. His gray eyes proud, Jacob brought his step-daughter's hand against his trembling lips, and kissed it, softly. Releasing his grip, he lowered his hand to his chest, and took his final breath.

Placing a gentle kiss on his peaceful cheek, Kris closed his eyes as a tear made its way down her face. Despite the trouble Kris had with her mother, who had turned away from her upon learning she was gay, Jacob had always been glad to see her, and she had always been close to him.

Giving her mother's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, she allowed the woman to give her a strong hug, which she returned.

"What did he say to you?" Noreen asked, pulling back to wipe at her eyes.

Kris smiled. "He said, 'Your father says hello'."

The soldier stayed with her mother a while longer, comforting her, before heading home. Grabbing a legal pad, and a pen, she sat down at the kitchen table, and started forming the list of soldiers she wanted to fight by her side.

An hour later, at midnight, Kris had a pretty good idea of who to call upon. She knew what she was going to do - the next day, Wednesday, she'd drop off a copy of the roster with the Captain, and then, at about 0500 hours, she'd drag everyone out onto the field for a briefing. Following the instructions and a very short break for breakfast, the rest of the day would be devoted to practicing combat techniques and the like.

The sound of her name interrupted the soldier's musings, and she looked up to find a tired blonde standing next to her.

"Are you still up?" questioned Ryanne, stepping behind the woman's chair and lightly massaging her tense shoulders as she spoke. "Come to bed, Kris, and get some sleep."

"Hm," muttered Kris, lowering her head to her chest, "I'll fall asleep right here if you keep that up." Smiling, she took the blonde's hand, and brought her around in front of her, pulling her close.

"Thank you," she said, "but I'm almost finished here. I have to get this done for the Captain, and I need it done tonight. I'll be in bed soon," she promised, kissing her gently. With a soft goodnight, Ryanne wandered back to the bedroom, leaving Kris to sort through her thoughts.

Stumbling to bed half an hour later, Kris collapsed next to the snoring blonde, and was asleep moments later.

Minutes after, or what felt like it, her alarm sounded, bringing in the 4 o'clock hour. Groaning, the soldier cut it off, careful not to disturb Ryanne, and got to her feet. Showering quickly to wake up, Kris dressed in her fatigues, and left a note on her pillow telling Ryanne she'd be at the base all day in case she needed anything, before grabbing the roster sheets and heading out the door.

Reporting to the Captain's office just long enough to drop off the copy she had made for him, the soldier started knocking on doors, ordering groggy soldiers to the field in thirty minutes. By 0500 hours, everyone was assembled in their ranks on the practice field.

"I'm sure you're wondering what in God's name possessed me to drag you all out here at this hour of the morning," she began.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," said Thompson, and Kris chuckled.

"Well, I'll tell you, on one condition." Everyone looked at her, intently. "Nothing that is said from here on out goes outside this field, unless you have direct permission from either myself or Captain Bowman. Anyone who can't handle that can leave."

No one moved.

"Okay, then," sighed the soldier. "The Captain spoke to me yesterday, and asked me to form a roster of people I wanted to go with me across the seas. It seems we have a war on our hands, and Mr. President wants to keep it hush-hush, away from the press, for as long as he can. Captain Bowman has informed me that we will be in a situation very similar to the Vietnam and Korean Wars many years ago," she said.

"Now, the bad news. We're the reinforcements for the boys already over there, but we're the only reinforcements. For a time period which is, as of now, unknown, we will have no other back up. No tanks, no planes, no nothing," she explained.

"They will have bombing equipment, however inaccurate," added Kris. "It is said they move the most at night, and the terrain is varied. From my experience, I'm assuming there will be traps and the like, as well. All we'll have is what we can carry.

"I chose all of you because I know you're all good soldiers," she said, honestly. "But, that does not mean that I expect you all to go through with this. I swear to you, I will do my damnedest to get each and every one of you back safely, but I don't know how long we'll be gone, and it is war," she said. "I'll understand if any of you want to leave, for whatever reason."

Silence. No one moved.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "No one's leaving?"

"Ma'am, no, ma'am!" Kris grinned, in spite of herself.

"Well, thank you all very much," she said. "We'll break for 20 minutes, now, for breakfast, and then come back here for training. Twenty minutes for lunch, and we'll work as long as we have to. You all still with me?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!"

"Any questions?" One soldier took a small step forward. "Parker?"

"When do we leave, ma'am?" he asked.

"Tomorrow morning," she said. "The Captain wants us here by 0900 hours." Eyes widened, and Kris couldn't blame them. Parker stepped back, and Thompson came forward. "Yes?" Kris prompted.

"Ma'am, I have relatives here. Will we be able to keep in touch?" he asked, seriously.

Kris grinned. "Soldier, I have the Captain's word we'll have a mail bag in the supply chopper that comes through every few days," she assured, and he nodded, satisfied as he stepped back in line. "Now, you're dismissed for breakfast. Those of you who have families can let them know more tonight; I'm asking you to wait, because I understand you'll want more than 20 minutes to explain and say goodbye. Tell only your spouses or parents, and only if absolutely necessary. I ask you tell no one else, and say nothing to anyone until tonight," she repeated.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" they responded.

"Good," she said. "Anyone with any other questions is welcome to come and speak with me. Dismissed." Saluting her, over 75 bodies about-faced, and walked off the field, staying close together. Kris was a little surprised to see that they all ate breakfast in the same area, choosing not to converse with the few other soldiers up at the break of dawn.

Stopping in her quarters for a quick bowl of cereal and a few pieces of toast, Kris downed her glass of juice as she hurried back out to the field, and waited patiently for her soldiers to return. And, with three minutes to spare, they all formed ranks again.

The rest of the day was spent on the field, in the hot sun, doing drills until even Kris was exhausted. Her company got strange looks from other soldiers, wondering why she was working them so hard and for so long, but no one had the guts to come up and ask her about it.

Teaching the men how to sprint forward a few feet, and then drop quickly to the ground, was a crucial lesson that Kris strongly enforced. They went over hand signals, in case they ever got in close enough to be heard, so they could still communicate.

"They'll be a test later," Thompson had said, causing everyone to grin.

"Thank you, soldier," said Kris, as they worked on diving for cover. "I'll be sure to prepare one just for you. It'll give you something to do on the plane."

"Ma'am, I think I'll be working on not pissing my pants while I'm on the plane," he responded, with a wry smile.

That brought Kris to a very important announcement. "All right, listen up," she said, sharply. "Let's get one thing straight, right now." Eyes watched her, worried by her angry tone. "I do not want anyone fighting by my side who is not scared. Do I make myself clear?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," was the quiet, startled response.

"I said, do I make myself clear?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" they shouted, and Kris nodded.

"Good. Anyone who thinks they can go in there, unafraid and invincible, will stay behind. I don't want anyone playing hero, except me. You will all have instructions on how to get back to the chopper, or someplace safe, and who to have in command, should, God forbid, something happen to me," she said.

She had thought about that very same idea all night; even dreamt about it. She'd sworn to her men that she would do her best to bring them all back, and if that meant sacrificing herself, it'd be hard, but she'd do it.

"I understand this might seem ludicrous, but I swore I'd bring you home, and, by God, I'll do it," she said, fiercely. "Now, does anyone have a problem with this?" Everyone took a step forward.

Kris sighed. "Let me rephrase that," she said. "Will anyone have trouble remembering, and obeying, this command?"

"Ma'am, no, ma'am," they said, and she let them slip by with a soft response. She figured they were about as scared by the idea as she was, and couldn't blame them for losing their voices.

"Very good," she said. "Now, let's get back to work."

Nothing more was said about questioning Kris' orders, or playing hero, or even backing out at the last second; 78 soldiers were committed, and they were a team. They would stand united and protect each other, as they had been taught. They would watch out for themselves, as well as their commanding officer.

To the end.

* * * * *

At five minutes after eleven, when Kris arrived at her house, the tall soldier smiled when she saw a note on the kitchen table, in Ryanne's gentle handwriting.

Kris,

Didn't know when you'd be

home, but your plate is in the microwave

if you want to reheat it, in case you're

hungry. I'll see you in the morning,

and please try to get some sleep.

Love,

Ryanne

Deciding dinner could wait, since she hadn't called lunch until after 2:30, Kris went straight to bed, telling herself she would indeed listen to Ryanne, and actually get a good night's sleep.

Chapter Fourteen

When her alarm clock went off Thursday morning at 6:30, save a few fading dreams of machine gun fire, huge mushroom clouds thick with smoke and ash, and dying men, Kris felt relatively rested.

The first thing Kris did was take a long, hot shower, for as long as she could, trying to figure out how she was going to break the news to Ryanne, and coming up with different way the woman would react.

I don't like any of the ideas I've come up with, she thought, as she dried herself off with a towel, and secretly wondered how long it would be before she'd see one again. I think it's time to switch to Plan B… damn, what's Plan B??

Wrapping the soft towel around her nude body, Kris walked back into the bedroom to get dressed, and was surprised to find that Ryanne was already up. Fixing bacon and eggs, if her olfactory perception was correct.

Sighing, the soldier dressed in her fatigues, quickly, and laced up her boots. Glancing at her watch, she knew she wouldn't have time to savor the wonderful meal the blonde was cooking, because she had to pack yet, and then be on her way.

Shaking thoughts of her last meal out of her head, the tall woman focused on finding her large duffel bag, and packing it full with things she'd need - a few T-shirts and jeans, in case her camouflage outfit became too worn and she needed clothing until supplies came, gloves, extra canteens, and so on.

It was nearly a half hour later that Kris sensed the blonde in the room, just as she was looking for her jacket, figuring she could use it for warmth, depending on how cool the nights got, or if anyone went into shock and needed the extra heat, as was common.

"Kris, why are you packing? What's going on?" asked Ryanne, tears filling her green eyes. "Listen, if there's something wrong, Cassidy and I can leave…"

Kris cut her off, quickly. "No, it's not you. Hey, come here," she said, opening her arms to the young woman when she noticed the tears that threatened to fall. "I have to go, Ryanne."

"Where?" sniffled the woman, her head still buried in Kris' shoulder.

"To war."

Ryanne brought her head up to meet Kris' blue eyes. "This is a joke, right?" The soldier shook her head. "But, we don't have wars anymore."

Sergeant Jones smiled. "Well, we're not supposed to. You've heard how the peace talks with Kosovo and between North and South Korea have failed, right?" The blonde nodded. "The President is sending in the Army, all branches, to reinforce our ground troops that are already over there. The troops that were more or less guarding the land now have a war on their hands, and we're going to help," Kris finished. "The Army is sending it's best out there to fight. That's me," she added.

"Can't they get somebody else?" asked the woman. "Why don't we just nuke them or something?"

Kris laughed. "It's too expensive, we're not quite to that extreme yet, not to mention it'll hurt too many civilians, and the government doesn't want to waste it's precious missiles on a small battle. And it's not like I have a choice here, love. I don't want to go, but I have to," said the soldier, stuffing a flashlight into her bag. "Listen, I'll write to you every chance I get, okay? And you can send your letters to the Captain, and he'll get them to me, so we can still keep in touch, all right?"

There were tears again. "Be careful, Kris. I can't stand the thought of losing you," she admitted.

"I'm too ornery to die," smiled the soldier. Swinging the bag over her shoulder, Kris gave Ryanne one last hug. "It'll be okay. I shouldn't be there for very long, just until they send more reinforcements for my company. I'll be back before you know it. I love you," she added, quietly.

"Pip-squeak!" called the tall woman, and Cassidy ran into her arms moments later. "Be good for your mother, okay?"

The child locked her arms around the soldier's neck, and murmured, "Kris, don't go 'way."

Kris pulled the child back, set her down, and knelt beside her, so they were eye-to-eye. "What did you say?" she asked, her voice disbelieving.

"Stay!" commanded the girl, stomping her foot. With tears in her eyes, Kris swept the child into her arms, and hugged her tightly. The girl picked now of all times to start talking, and the first words out of her mouth were for the soldier to stay home rather than go to war.

Damn it all to Hell! cursed Kris, as she held the small child in her arms. Cassidy starts talking and I have to leave to go fight some goddamned war, so I'll have to miss all the cute little things she'll say. Fuck, I'll miss her birthday, too. God, this sucks.

"Oh, Cassidy, I wish I could," she said, setting the girl back on the floor. "But I'll be back soon, okay? I promise," she added, grabbing Ryanne for a family hug. To her surprise, the youngster saluted her as she left, covering her right eye with her right hand, grinning brightly as she did so, Kris' old jacket sleeve hanging down over her face.

Kris choked back a sob, and saluted the girl in the same fashion. Glancing at her watch, she said, "I've got to run. I love you both." Kissing her girls on the forehead, she rushed out the door to catch the plane that would take her to the war zone.

"Well, Cass, I guess it's just you and me for a while," sighed Ryanne.

The child nodded, and then burst into tears. "Kris go 'way!" she wailed. Ryanne gave a start, not used to hearing her daughter respond, but finding she liked the sound of her voice very much.

"Cassidy, can I ask you a question?" The girl nodded, looking up at her mother. "Why didn't you talk before?"

Cassidy shrugged. "Didn't wanna. Daddy said it was bad to talk, and I'd get in trouble, but had to tell Kris g'bye," she explained. Ryanne just pulled her daughter to her in a fierce hug, and fought back tears as the girl whispered, "S'okay, Mom. I love you," into her ear.

Later that night, after a long conversation between Ryanne and her daughter, just for the sake of talking and hearing each other's voices, the blonde put Cassidy to bed, kissing her good night. Ryanne climbed into the bed she usually slept in with Kris, and the woman was surprised to find a note on her pillow. Unfolding it, she switched on the light, and read it silently to herself.

Ryanne,

I told you we'd keep in touch! This is my first letter to you, in the line of many, trust me. I'll write to you every day if I can, whenever I get a break. You can stay at my place for as long as you want, or at my quarters on the base if you feel the need. You and Cassidy are always welcome.

I love you both, and I'll see you as soon as I can.

Take care, sweetheart.

Always,

Kris

Ryanne grinned at the soldier's sentiment, and decided to write a response to her the next morning. After saying a silent prayer, asking for the protection of her soldier and the hundreds of others out there, Ryanne fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * * * *

Most of her men were already there when Kris arrived at the base for transport, and the Captain signaled her over to him just before she climbed on board the plane.

"Sir?" she asked, dropping her duffel bag to salute him.

"Kris," he said, shuffling through the papers he had found on his desk the morning before, "this is an awful lot of people. You've got 78 soldiers here, and I've been told the plane only has room for 75."

Kris narrowed her eyes at the man, and he involuntarily gulped. "Seventy-five?" she repeated. "That goddamn plane can pass for a B-52, and you're telling me it can only hold 75 fucking people? You want me to leave three behind, is that it?" she demanded. "Tell them I'm sorry, but they can't go? No," she said, evenly.

"See those soldiers over there?" she asked, pointing to her squad, patiently awaiting her arrival to finish boarding the large plane. "They are the best I have, and I want no one else fighting by my side. They want to be there with me, and I trust them with my life.

"We're a team, Mark," she said, forcefully. "Either you put all of us on that plane going straight to Hell, or you can fight that goddamn war yourself. I'm not leaving anyone behind once we get over there, and I don't plan to start now," she added.

Captain Bowman grinned, inwardly. "All right, Kris," he said. "I'm sure we can squeeze you all in there, with the cargo."

"Cargo?" she said, disbelieving. "What cargo?! We don't have any fucking weapons, Mark, so what cargo is in that plane, taking up space for my men?" she cried.

"Supplies for the recruits, things you might find handy, like food, water, and medical reserves," he said, tonelessly. "Now, board that plane, and come back to me in one piece, Kris. Ryanne will have my head if you don't," he grinned. "Good luck," he added.

Kris nodded, and saluted her friend and Captain, before shouldering her bag, and nearing her men. They all stood at attention, until she motioned them onto the ramp, and into the plane. Minutes later, the aircraft left the ground.

There was no turning back. They were going straight to war.

* * * * *

"Ma'am," said a voice, and Kris jerked awake when she felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. Confused blue eyes looked into the face of Ronald Jenkins. "Ma'am, they're ready to land."

"Thank you, soldier," she said, sitting up a little straighter, stretching and rubbing her eyes. Looking around, she saw that mostly everyone else was awake, and smiled at them all. Ronald Jenkins, Robert Thompson, Don Brown, Timothy Parker… most were men she'd had in her first company, before her surgery, but some were presently under her command, while a few had been under other officers for quite a while.

"Well, it's just about time," she said, and everyone turned to her. "I understand that you're all probably as apprehensive about this as I am, but we'll get through it, like the team we are, right?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" they chorused.

Kris grinned. "Okay, first thing's first," she began. "From here on out, I don't want to be considered much different than the rest of you. You'll still obey my commands, but you can talk to me freely without asking for permission, as communication is very important. Feel free to joke around, and be yourselves," she encouraged. "We may be here for a while, so let's get comfortable with each other, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," they said, and she smiled.

"Good. From what I hear, we'll land at the safe zone, and either walk in, or be taken in by trucks, I'm not sure which. Make sure your packs are ready before we land," she added, and everyone double-checked their equipment.

Kris had stuffed her things from her duffel bag into her large pack, along with her bedroll, and a few other things which were already attached. Satisfied that she had everything she needed, including paper and a pen for writing letters to Ryanne, she and the other soldiers prepared for landing.

"This is about where the chopper will land," the pilot told her, before she stepped off board. "It comes every five days, if possible. Once you make it past those trees," he said, pointing to a small forest a few miles away, "you're safe to get to the chopper. Good luck, Company 217." The tall soldier nodded, and made her way to the ground, followed closely by the rest of her company.

"Okay, listen up," she said, when they were all assembled, and the plane had taken off, back into the sky. "We've got about two miles to get used to carrying this stuff, before we leave the safety zone, and enter the war zone."

As she spoke, they went through the supplies, and stuffed whatever they could into their packs; extras of everything, just in case. "We'll be doing a few practice drops and such, just to make sure we know what to do now that we're here. Keep your radio with you at all times, keep your helmet on, and keep your ears and eyes open," she added, before motioning them forward.

It was almost dark, Kris guessed they had an hour of daylight left, and the soldier was trying to get used to the sound of gunfire. Looking up, she saw an occasional plane pass over, and heard rapid shots ring out as the aircraft was shot at. The two she had seen had yet to be hit - foreign planes, carrying bombs or supplies, she guessed.

Just as the sun disappeared behind the sky, Kris called a halt, and decided they'd make camp in the dense forest. The soldiers were quick to lay down their bedrolls, deciding that it was such a clear night, they didn't need lean-tos, trenches, or foxholes to sleep in. That, and they figured they were close enough to the safe zone not to need cover just yet.

"We'll keep watch in shifts," said Kris, and assigned four shifts, with five men relieving each group every two hours. "Keep a watch out for any sounds, or lights. The rest of you, get some sleep, and eat something. We'll be up at dawn to move," she added, and they all agreed.

Kris wondered if the other soldiers got as much sleep as she did; the woman was awake for the first three change in shifts, too tense to rest. She knew everyone was scared, which was expected, but she hoped it would get a little less frightening once they knew what they were up against, so they'd be able to sleep. Otherwise, they, the reinforcements, would be in no condition to help the soldiers at the front.

The tall soldier was almost asleep when the sound of a crushing of the leaves nearby startled her. Grabbing her gun as she rolled to her feet, she clicked her flashlight on, holding it under her arm as she aimed her weapon - directly at Sergeant Jenkins.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said, as he reached for his canteen. "I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you were asleep, and I was only coming back from watch."

Kris sighed, and chuckled, in spite of her racing heart. "It's okay, Jenkins," she said, turning the light off, as it was shining in his face. "Get some rest. See you in the morning."

"Good night, ma'am," he said, lying down, turning his back to her as he tried to sleep. Replacing her gun by her side, Kris stayed awake, looking at the stars, finding it amazing that she was looking at the same sky as Ryanne. The soldier felt worlds away.

Staff Sergeant Jones brought in the morning with thoughts of her love, before coming to her senses and calling to her men. They made it through the first night with no problems, and Kris could only call it beginner's luck, as they headed out into the sunlight.

Chapter Fifteen

It was the next night before Kris got a chance to sit down and write a letter to Ryanne. She was right about beginner's luck, because from the time they got up that morning, until just moments before, all Hell had broken loose.

First, she had to deal with the soft complaints of Ricky Beard, who had somehow managed to locate a poisonous plant, and sleep on it. She spent the morning walk keeping him from scratching until he bled, which was rather difficult, so she finally ordered him to wear his gloves for the remainder of the day. He did, and not another lament passed by his lips.

Then, just as soon as they took a quick break in the shade, trying to escape the heat for a moment, while the medic administered some ointment to Beard's skin, gunfire was heard - close. Kris ordered them all to find cover, and then found out where the shooting was coming from; it was the Americans, the soldiers they were sent to relieve. The men were firing at the foreign opposition, trying to hold them back.

Ordering her company to approach from the side and give the Americans some aid, Kris quickly discovered that the Vietnamese were trying to steal the men's supplies, what little they had left. After a few were wounded, they called a retreat, and took off. Kris figured that'd be the last they'd see of them, until nightfall, anyhow.

"You must be the boys who're going home," she greeted, with a smile.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" cried one soldier, a huge grin on his face as he shook her hand. "I'm Sergeant James Oxtail," he introduced. "I'm in charge, since Staff Sergeant Colonel Matheson was killed."

"How long ago was that?" asked Kris.

"About two weeks ago, I think, ma'am," he replied. "It's easy to lose track of time, here."

The woman nodded. "Staff Sergeant Kris Jones," she said, and he saluted her. "These are my men, Company 217. We're here to relieve you. Any of you who want to stay," for some insane reason, "or are unable to leave, are welcome to remain here with us. I've got two men, more if needed, who are scheduled to go back to the chopper for supplies and the like every few days. They also take the wounded to the truck, which we've arranged to meet us just inside the safety zone," she added.

She had radioed in that morning, demanding a truck for the wounded, saying that carrying them on a stretcher for the long distance they had to cover just wasn't practical. Her request had been granted, and two trucks would now help bring things to and from the chopper, be it supplies or casualties.

Seven stayed on, since they were too injured to make it back, even to the awaiting trucks, while the others moved on for home as soon as possible.

Kris noticed that one of the young boys now under her command couldn't have been old enough to legally drink, but he was downing whiskey like it was water. The tall soldier realized why, when she saw a dark red stain on his pant leg, and how the bottom half of the material laid flat, indicating that there was nothing beneath it - the boy had lost his right leg, just below the knee.

"Hey," she said, gently, rolling up his pant leg as she spoke, "what's your name?"

"Private Henry Gregg, ma'am," he replied, his voice surprising clear, despite the nearly empty bottle in his possession.

"I'm Staff Sergeant Kris Jones," she said, "in case you didn't hear. What base are you from?"

"Washington Army Base, Texas," he said, wincing when she lifted a corner of the bandage to examine his wound.

"Sorry," she apologized, seeing his pain. "Well, I'm no doctor, but something tells me you've sprung a leak." The boy looked startled, and then smiled. "I'll take this," she said, taking the flask from his hand.

"We have pain killers that last longer than this. Hm… what is this shit?" she asked, sniffing the liquid, before taking a small swig, and spitting it out just as quickly. "Must have been a bad year."

The soldier grinned at her. "That's wine, ma'am, not whiskey," he told her. "Wine is judged by its year, not whiskey."

Kris nodded. "Oh, right," she said, and patted the boy on the shoulder. "I'll have our medic take a look at those stitches, all right?" Gregg nodded, and she smiled, reassuringly. "Don't move around too much, and you should be a little more comfortable."

The men were just getting set up, behind the impressive barrier that the previous company had set up, with sandbags, lumber, barbed wire, and whatever else they could find, when one soldier let out a deafening scream.

Kris bolted to his side - he was one of Matheson's former men, and he seemed to be in too much pain for anyone to bear. The woman noticed that one of the other men was trying to remove a bullet from his thigh, using his bare hands. He had tweezers, but the soldier, Paul Kingston, was moving around too much for them to do any good.

"Move," snarled the woman, pushing the man out of her way. "Here." Taking a stick, she gave it to the soldier to bite on, which he did, gratefully. "Now, let's see if I can do something about the pain." Remembering an old technique she had learned a long time ago, about the main blood vessels and pressure points, Kris jabbed two fingers just above the wound.

"I… I can't feel my leg," the man muttered, around the stick in his mouth.

"Complaining?" Kris snorted, and the soldier shook his head. "Give me those," she ordered, and the metal instrument was placed in her hand. Holding the man's leg still, she reached in and removed the bullet, before sewing the wound quickly, and covering it with an antitoxin that would have hurt almost as bad as the stitches, had she not blocked the feeling.

"Okay," she warned, as she finished bandaging the wound. "I have to take off the pinch, now, and it's going to hurt like hell. Ready?" Gritting his teeth, the soldier nodded, and Kris jabbed his thigh again. The man bit through the wood, and then mercifully passed out.

"Next time," she said, tossing the bloodied rag she had used to wipe excess blood away from the wound at the soldier who had first attempted to remove the bullet, "make sure the patient's comfortable before you go sticking your fingers in his wound."

The man nodded, mutely, and Kris was suddenly aware that everyone was watching her, their eyes wide.

"What?" she asked, running her hands through her hair as she started setting things up for their stay. No one said anything, but Company 217 was sure the soldiers from Texas now had the same feelings they did - their commanding officer was as close to a God as a mortal woman could get.

From there, she'd had to drag crates around the camp, arranging things so they not only had access to their supplies, but also protection from all sides. After everything was set up, she took care of a few more soldiers' wounds, helping the doctor with what skills she had.

A few hours before nightfall, Kris ordered her men to begin digging trenches along the inside perimeter of the sandbags and such, for extra cover. She worked just as hard as the men, and the job was finished in only an hour.

It was almost dusk when the attack began. Everyone hit the dirt, and dove into the trenches, as soon as the gunfire was heard. Those who were injured were already in the ditches, by Kris' orders, so the others dove in around them, before shouldering their weapons and returning the fire.

Three Vietnamese casualties and one minor American injury later, the enemy fell back, and everyone took a moment to breathe again, as the moon rose high into the sky.

"Is everyone okay?" asked Kris, and save one sprained wrist, there were no new injuries. "Good. You all did well, going for safety as soon as you heard the first shot," she praised. "Keep that up, and we'll be fine."

And now, after all that action, she took time out to lean against a rock, pen and paper in hand, thinking about what to write. Deciding to leave out the gory details of the pain and suffering she had seen already, just 24 hours into the battle, Kris merely told Ryanne how much she missed her, and how, so far, none of her men were hurt.

When she took a moment to think about it, Kris realized that her letter would probably reach Ryanne about the time of Cassidy's birthday. Frowning, she tried to figure out what to give the youngster for a gift.

What do I give my Junior Sergeant for her fifth birthday? she asked herself, and suddenly, it came to her. That's it! When she was done writing her letter, the woman reached up to the collar of her uniform, and removed one of the stars she wore, indicating her rank. Folding the paper, she stuck the pin through it, and fastened it securely, before stuffing the letter into her bag. When it came time for mail two days later, she'd send it in the bag, with the hopes that the star would remain on the paper throughout the journey.

Satisfied, Kris gradually got used to having 85 soldiers around her, and assigned shifts once more, taking the last watch herself. Closing her eyes, the tall soldier decided to get as much sleep as she was able, before she had to stand guard.

* * * * *

Ryanne went to the base each day, her hopes never fading that she'd find a letter waiting from her tall soldier, no matter how many days passed without a word. Mark Bowman assured her that the mail bag had yet to come in, but the moment it did, he'd let her know.

The blonde also kept a close eye on the news, for any information on how things were going. Nothing had been reported so far, but it had only been three days, and Ryanne knew she had to give it time. The usually patient woman was already getting anxious, and she wondered how she was going to stand it, if being away from Kris for less than a week was already difficult.

"Mom, when is Kris gonna write?" asked Cassidy, as she helped her mother bake their third batch of cookies in two days. She knew her mother was worried, but she didn't understand why - Kris had promised she'd come back, so what was there to worry about? The child only knew she'd never baked so many cookies in her life, and knew there was no way even she and her mother would be able to eat them all.

"Soon, honey," said Ryanne, optimistically. "I'm sure she's busy taking care of her soldiers, so we'll just give her time, okay?"

"Okay," shrugged the girl. Her birthday was coming up in two days, on the 22nd, and she hoped Kris hadn't forgotten. She really liked the soldier, and had been thinking about whether or not to find a name for her, something that she could call her, other than "Kris". Of course, she'd have to check with her mother, first…

Suddenly, the phone rang, and Cassidy answered it before her mother could stop her. "Hello?" she answered, and grinned. "Hi, Grandpa!" she said, as she had begun calling the Captain, much to his delight. Ryanne thought she couldn't have thought of a better person to wear the title, than the gentle man who Cassidy had chosen.

"Really? Cool! I'll tell Mom. See you," she said, and hung up. "Grandpa says the mail's here!" she exclaimed, happily. Ryanne let out a whoop of joy, and left the cookies on the counter to cool, as she and her daughter rushed out the door, heading for the base.

Half an hour later, they returned home, after collecting the mail from Kris, and dropping off a few letters to go back to the soldier, Ryanne barely containing herself from ripping the envelope open. Mark had said they had merely been pieces of paper, so he had enclosed them in an envelope so they'd stay together, all three of them.

The blonde was startled to see one of Kris' stars pinned to one of the letters, and read that one first, hoping it wasn't bad news.

Ryanne,

Well, this is my second night here, but the first time I've gotten a chance to write you. The men are doing fine, no one's injured - not even me. Unless you count Ricky Beard, who made his bed on a poisonous plant last night, and has been itching like crazy all day long. I told him to lay out his bedroll, but he insisted he was comfortable… Men.

Ryanne smiled, as she read it aloud to her daughter, who giggled.

"Keep reading," urged the girl, and Ryanne agreed.

You should get this about the time of Cassidy's birthday, so her gift is enclosed. Tell her she can put it on my jacket, if she wants, and to wear it with pride. I hope she likes it - love you, pip-squeak.

I miss you both. I'd better quit for now, and get some sleep. Yes, sweetheart, I'm sleeping here. I know you worry. I'll write you whenever I can, like I promised. Oh, Jenkins says hi, and so does Thompson. Oh, hell, everyone says hi. Even the seven new guys I've got, who have no idea who you are.

Ryanne chuckled, and finished the letter.

Seven of the soldiers we relieved stayed behind, because of injuries, so I've got 85 men behind me, now, instead of the 78 I started out with. Their commanding officer was killed a few weeks ago, so there's no problem with conflicting orders. They're good men, and we should all get out of here safely.

I love you, and miss you. Look at the stars for me.

All my love, always.

Kris

Ryanne smiled as she ended the letter, wondering a little about the strange request Kris had chosen to put at the end of her message, and looked down at her daughter, to see just as big of a grin on her face.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked, tickling her.

Cassidy squealed, and dashed through the house, her mother right behind her. They collapsed on the couch in a fit of laughter, tickling one another until neither was able to return the attack.

"What did she get me?"

The blonde smiled, and held out the pin for her daughter to see.

"Oh… pretty," she cooed, taking it from her mother's palm. "I put it on my jacket?" Ryanne nodded, and fastened it to the collar of the jacket, which the child never took off. The woman smiled when she noticed how right the star looked on the jacket, and the dancing light evident in Cassidy's eyes.

"I like it!" she said, happily, and Ryanne agreed.

"It looks good on you," she declared, proudly. "What do you say we read the other letter, and then write her back?" Cassidy eagerly conceded, and Ryanne read the second letter, which said much the same as the first one: how Kris missed them, how she was doing all right, and she hoped they were both safe and well.

"Mother, can I draw something for Momma?" asked Cassidy, the word slipping from her mouth before she had a chance to think about it.

Ryanne hid a surprised smile. "What did you call her?" she asked, quietly.

"Momma," repeated the child. "Do you think Kris would get mad? Can I call her that?" she asked, timidly.

Ryanne gave in to her grin, and gave Cassidy a strong hug. "Sweetheart, I'm sure Kris will be thrilled. We'll tell her in this next letter, all right?" With an excited smile, Cassidy agreed, and set to work on her picture, which Ryanne enclosed in the letter. Both counted down the days until they could send their letters, looking forward to Kris' response already.

* * * * *

On Saturday, May 20th, Kris awoke and immediately called her men to attention. Everyone that could stand did so, and she sang a quiet but beautiful rendition of the Army theme song, before coming to attention herself and raising her arm in a salute, honoring those who had died defending their country.

"Today would have been the parade," she said, "so I figured instead of trying to invite the Vietnamese to march with us, we'd stick to our own show of respect." The men agreed, only then recovering from the shock of hearing their commanding officer sing.

On the following Wednesday, after just a week of fighting, two men returned with the mail bag, coming back to a camp full of eager soldiers. They started calling out names, and handed out the letters, smiling when they received their own messages.

When they were all passed out, Kris made sure they would be safe for a while, and sat down to read her own letters from Ryanne - she had three pieces of paper. Unfolding the first one, she leaned against the sand bags, as she sat comfortably in the trench, and began to read the familiar handwriting to herself.

Kris,

Cassidy and I were so glad to receive your letter, and she loves the pin you gave her. When I told her it was from the ones you wore on your collar, that told everyone what rank you were, she proclaimed "One star means Junior Sergeant," and the Captain agreed with her.

She still calls him Grandpa, and it seems she has a name for you, too. Kris, she's started calling you Momma, and me Mother.

The tall soldier's jaw dropped, and she reread the sentence a dozen times, before leaping to her feet, a huge smile on her face.

"Gee, Sarge," said Private Gregg, startled, "what bit you in the ass? You jumped up like somebody kicked you."

"I got a letter from home," she explained, and proceeded to tell the soldier all about Cassidy, and then had him read the line. "She called me Momma!" she exclaimed, beaming. The Private smiled, nodded, and then looked around at his chuckling friends, who fell victim to Kris' enthusiasm next.

Nearly half an hour had passed by before Kris remembered she had more of the letter to read, and, after showing the line off to everyone at least twice, she sat back down in the ditch, and continued reading, completely missing the grins that were passed around the camp.

At first, she was worried you would be angry with her, but I told her I thought you'd be thrilled.

Yeah, that's an understatement, Kris snorted, her heart swelling until she was sure it would burst. Thrilled? Hell, I'm ecstatic!

We've been keeping busy around here, and you'll be up to your ears in cookies when you come back. I watched the parade for you, and it went well; there was a good turn out of outside folks there, but it just wasn't the same without you.

We miss you very much. Be careful.

Love,

Ryanne

Kris smiled as she finished the letter, and she brightened further upon seeing the paper that was enclosed - a drawing that Cassidy had made. It was a rough crayon sketch of what Kris guessed to be the American flag, with a camouflage colored forest in the background. The soldier could make out the words "Momma" and "Cassidy" written at the bottom.

And, suddenly, she didn't feel so far away.

Chapter Sixteen

The next few days were a blur of bullets for the soldier. The Vietnamese had let loose with a surprise attack at night, and they were all caught unaware. By the time the siege was over, the silence didn't return until Saturday, there were casualties on both sides. The Vietnamese had taken quite a few hits, and two men from Lt. Col. Matheson's company had been lost.

One was the Private who had attempted to remove the bullet from Paul Kingston's leg, his name was William Ash, Kris learned upon reading his dog tags, as she took the one with the chipped edge, placed it between his teeth, and clamped his jaw shut. The other, which affected Kris for quite a while, was Private Bradley Gregg, Henry's twin brother.

Both Gregg boys had become close to their commanding officer, because of their good humor and great personalities, as well as their willingness to work hard. The young man, only 20 years old, had been fighting just a few feet from Kris when he was hit. The soldier had to keep firing, since the enemy was advancing upon their camp, so she wasn't able to leave her post until the area was secure.

By the time she rushed to his side, it was too late. The bullet had hit just an inch above his heart, and there was nothing to be done - he was dying. His skin looked pallid already, his blue eyes were beginning to take on a glazed look, and his short blonde hair was dirty, from the work he had done without breaking to clean up.

"Sarge," he coughed, as Kris sat by his side, Henry at the other, squeezing his younger brother's frighteningly weak hand.

"I'm here," she reassured him, putting her hand on his shoulder, gently.

"Don't talk," pleaded Henry, as blood pumped steadily from the wound he was frantically trying to put pressure on, and red liquid filled his sibling's mouth.

A painful grin crossed the soldier's face. "I was… never the quiet one," he said, and Henry choked back a sob. "Sarge," he began, again, as his life bubbled out the corner of his mouth, leaving a dark red trail. "Sarge… it's okay… I'm home. We'll all make… make it home," he said, hoarsely, before falling still.

Henry let out a heart-wrenching sob as Kris closed the boy's eyelids with her palm, and wiped a single tear away with the back of her hand. "You and you," she said, pointing to two soldiers, standing nearby, watching the scene with sorrow. "Take Gregg and Ash over to the empty crates. We'll hold them there until we can take them back to the trucks in a few days." The men nodded, and carefully dragged the corpses over to the temporary coffin Kris had insisted they make.

"I'm sorry, Henry," said Kris, using the boy's first name, gently. "He was a good soldier." The boy just nodded, and was unusually quiet, but Kris attributed it to his loss. He said little the rest of the night, and Kris changed the shifts, allowing him the night off to grieve.

Kris was almost asleep, when she sensed a movement nearby. Her bedroll was not far from Private Gregg's, so she glanced over, making sure the young soldier was okay. What she saw caused her to spring to her feet. The boy was donning his helmet, and shouldering his weapon.

"Gregg," she said, softly, startling him. "Henry, where are you going?"

"Out there," he replied, checking his gun for bullets, and finding it loaded. "Have to kill the goddamn bastards. Have to do it for Brad," he added, forcefully, before taking a step forward.

"No, Henry," Kris said, evenly. "I know you want revenge, and I don't blame you; I'm angry, too. But charging out there in the middle of the night, alone, is not the answer," she told him, but she may as well have been talking to a brick wall for all the good it did.

With a shout, the boy ran towards the sand bags, intending to jump over them and leave the safety of the camp. Kris leapt forward, and tackled him to the ground. The two rolled around, startling soldiers out of their bedrolls as they wrestled, Kris attempting to keep him down, and the young man hell-bent on getting up.

When he jabbed an elbow back, and caught her in the jaw, Kris snarled, and stopped worrying about hurting the soldier. Straddling his back, she grabbed his arm, and shoved it behind his back, at a painfully unnatural angle, making him cry out in anguish.

"Stop it!" she demanded, pushing the bone to it's limit, just on the border of breaking it. "If you don't calm down, Gregg, so help me God I'll break your fucking arm," she warned, and the man eventually stopped struggling. "Now, I'm going to let you up. I want your word that you won't try to get out of the compound."

"You have my word," mumbled the young man, through his tears. Kris released him, and he sat up, slowly, rubbing his sore arm. "You should have let me go!" he protested. "You should have let me kill them!"

"And get yourself killed in the process?" cried Kris. "I don't think so. I don't want to lose any more men than I already have," she said. "Do you think this is what your brother would have wanted? Huh? Do you think he would have wanted you to go out and get yourself ventilated by the Vietnamese?" she demanded.

The boy was silent, stewing in sorrow and anger. Kris' voice softened a little. "Gregg, I understand that you're upset, but self-sacrifice is not the answer. We're just as angry as you are," she assured him. "We're a team, we work together, and Bradley's death affects all of us. But, we know what we have to do - we have to stick together, and do as we've been taught, that's the only way we can win.

"Can you do that, Henry? Can you trust that we will beat them? Because we will, and we'll do it for all the soldiers who've been lost, including your brother. But you have to work with us," she insisted. "Okay? I don't want to lose any more men."

The soldier snapped, and started yelling from his position, still seated on the dirt. "Will you stop calling us that? We are not your goddamn men! We're not even from the same fucking state!" he shouted, and Kris' blue eyes widened. "We could have gone home. All seven of us, we could have left. But we stayed here, and now look what's happened," he sneered. "My brother's dead, because of you. So don't call me your goddamn 'man', because I'm not, and I don't want to be," he finished.

In a flash, Kris got to her feet, and pulled the soldier up by the collar of his shirt, standing on the one leg he had left. "You listen to me," she growled, angrily. "I don't give a good goddamn where you come from, or where you call home. You're still a United States soldier, and you're under my command. You follow my orders. So, whether you like it or not, you little shit, you are one of my men, and you'd damn well better remember that."

Shoving the man back to the ground, she stormed off, leaving a group of silent soldiers in her wake.

"I think you hurt her feelings, Henry," Kris heard Thompson say, and the others murmured their agreement.

"Fuck her, anyway," he spat, and the soldier watched out of the corner of her eye as Thompson grabbed the man in a similar manner as she had done, only kneeling so he wouldn't have to lift him so far off the ground, and brought him close, until they were nose-to-nose.

"Take that back, you son of a bitch," he cursed, and Kris was surprised - she had never seen an angry side to the normally happy-go-lucky soldier. "That's my commanding officer you're talking about, and my friend. It's not her fault your brother's dead, soldier. She would have taken her own life if it would have done any good; that's just the kind of person she is. So don't you go blaming it on her, you hear?" he demanded, and Henry swallowed, nodding slowly, stunned into disbelieving silence.

Ten minutes later, as Kris sat cleaning her gun, she looked up when she heard footsteps approaching. To her surprise, there stood Henry, balancing on his crutches.

"Yes?" she asked, tonelessly.

"May I sit down?" he asked, and Kris nodded. The boy slowly lowered himself to the ground beside her, and took a deep breath. "I… I just wanted to say I'm sorry," he blurted. "I didn't really mean what I said, I was just hurt, and upset. And scared, I guess. I mean, I didn't feel that bad about being here, even without my leg, until I realized that people I know and love really could die.

"I also didn't mean what I said about being under your command," he added, quietly. "You're a great Sergeant, and you know a lot about what to do and how to do it, in order to keep us safe. And you talk to us like we're real men, not just soldiers to be put to work, like Colonel Matheson did.

"Well, anyway, I'm sorry," he concluded, looking away.

Kris offered him her hand, and he took it, confused. "Apology accepted," she said, and he smiled. "Thank you, soldier. I know it took guts to come over to me and admit you were wrong."

"Oh, yeah," he breathed. It hadn't been hard admitting he had made a mistake, not really, but it was difficult to gather the courage he needed to walk over to her, fully expecting the woman to lash out at him, angry and unforgiving.

Kris chuckled, and then turned more serious. "I understand how you feel, because I feel it, too," she said. "And you can avenge your brother - you can do it by making him proud, and by doing your best. You'll see him again someday, and until then, you can honor his memory," she finished, and the boy nodded, accepting her strong hand to steady himself when he struggled to stand.

"Thanks," he said, and went back to his bedroll. From then on, Kris noticed that the man put his all into whatever he did, and obeyed her orders to the tiniest detail, doing exactly as she wanted, until she could have sworn he had been under her command for several years. Even with the loss of his leg, he was still able to maneuver fairly well, and was the best man she had for moving on his belly.

Actually, after that outburst, all of the soldier's from Colonel Matheson's company seemed to work better with those from Company 217. They worked side-by-side, and acted as though they had been friends for years. Which was good; Kris knew they needed that kind of relationship to be able to work as a team - all of them.

Saturday afternoon came and went, without a lot of activity, and Kris was formulating a plan for advancing upon the Vietnamese troops, when a voice broke through her thoughts.

"What in God's name is that?" cried Jenkins, and everyone immediately went for their weapons.

"What is what, Jenkins?" she asked, and the man pointed to a large beige object, just barely visible on the horizon.

Kris let out a holler of joy. "That, my friend," she said, grabbing the startled man around the shoulders, "is the Whispering Death." At the men's confused looks, she continued, "That's an Abram M1 Tank, soldier. Sixty-three tons of 1500 horsepower, 45 mile-an-hour, turbine engine, American resistance. That sucker's got infrared viewing, smoke grenades, and a stationary machine gun, all encased by Uranium; 2 ½ times stronger than steel," she finished, and heard a few men whistle through their teeth.

"Gentleman, I'd like you to meet our new best friend," she said, gesturing to the tanks with a smile on her face. "Looks like we've finally got a little help."

* * * * *

The months passed without any further casualties from Kris' company, much to her delight. By the time August rolled around, along with the rain, Sergeant Jones and her men had moved their camp, steadily advancing upon the Vietnamese. The bombing from both sides could be heard, and while it had yet to affect Company 217 with much more than a little tremor, Kris knew it was getting closer.

As they got closer to the enemy's stockade, the attacks also became more frequent. Not only did the gunfire fall upon them like the cold raindrops which were falling regularly, it did not only happen during the day - there had been quite a few night attacks, as well.

It was one of these night attacks that caught Kris off guard. The soldiers were busy reading letters from home, which had arrived earlier in the day, when the shooting began. All else was quickly forgotten as 83 bodies grabbed their weapons, and aimed at the night.

Kris aimed her weapon, seeing a light flash on quickly, by some imbecile Vietnamese soldier trying to see something or another, and fired rapidly, knowing that the man now had at least two or three extra holes in his body.

At first, she attributed the pain in her right shoulder to the kick of her rifle, but soon realized that she had been hit. And not just grazed, judging by the sticky feeling that was covering the front of her uniform.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered, as the pain hit her, and she fell back to the ground, clutching her shoulder.

"Sergeant!" exclaimed Thompson, going to her side.

"Keep firing," she ordered, shoving him back to his post. Focusing on the enemy, Thompson did as he was told, while Kris fumbled for a grenade. Pulling the clip with what strength she had in her right hand, she let it fly over the head of her men, and then yelled for them to duck. They all hid behind the sandbags as the explosion sent dirt flying.

The opposing gunfire ceased instantaneously.

"Now, if you tell me to keep firing, I'll just be wasting bullets," said Thompson, returning to her side as he removed her hand, to get a better look at her wound. "Oh, that's pretty," he remarked.

"Can you show me that pinch-thingy?" he asked, and Kris shook her head.

"Not something you can learn in ten seconds," she said. "Thompson, see if the bullet passed through." The man nodded, and he and Jenkins gently rolled her on her side, looking for the exit wound, all the while carefully removing her jacket.

"It's through," Jenkins reported, and Kris sighed, grateful. "Uh, ma'am," started the soldier, awkwardly. "We need to get your shirt off, in order to get a better look at the damage."

Kris grinned as she slowly began to remove her shirt. "I oughta sell tickets," she joked, grunting with effort, glad when a few soldiers helped removed the fabric from her arms, wondering if their eagerness to take off her shirt was solely because of her wound. "Now, I expect you all to be gentleman."

Thompson grinned. "No way," he said, as he examined the hole which passed through her shoulder, and exited just above her first rib in the back. "Anybody got a camera? We could sell this to Playboy. She's too weak to defend herself, anyway."

Kris smirked at him. "Try me, lover boy," she challenged. "If you've got any plans to become a father, you'll behave yourself."

Thompson just gave her a lop-sided smile, as he allowed the doctor to cleanse the wound, and tried to keep his commanding officer talking, so she'd remain conscious. "Nope, never wanted kids," he shrugged. "Guess I'm in luck."

"How about this," she hissed, gritting her teeth as she felt the needle pass through her skin, a few minutes later. "If you ever want to be able to take a piss again, or give your hand something to do on those lonely Saturday nights, you'll back off."

The soldiers laughed, as did Thompson. "That's why I like you," he sighed. "You're so funny."

"Am I laughing, soldier?" she demanded, and for the barest instant, the man looked scared. But, then he grinned, as did Kris, before growling at the doctor, again. "Goddamn it, Franklin," she snarled. "Where the fuck did you get your training? Kavorkian 101?"

Douglas Franklin chuckled, but didn't say a word. He finished sewing her wound, and told her it should heal fine, as long as she didn't do anything strenuous. This produced a laugh from the tall soldier.

"Franklin, my entire life is strenuous," she said, and everyone smiled, glad to know their Sergeant would be okay. Kris decided it would be best not to tell Ryanne of the little incident in her next letter, which she planned to write shortly thereafter.

Reading the blonde's letter, she was happy to learn that both Ryanne and Cassidy had begun using the obstacle course at the base, taking on a more serious perspective to their exercise, which Ryanne had been lightly interested in since Kris began working with her like she did her soldiers, so long ago.

Sweetheart,

It is good to know that you're both doing well, and it sounds like you're having fun. Things have been going well over here, and we are slowly but surely closing in on the Vietnamese ground camps. The tanks and planes are helping, but nothing has been done in our near vicinity.

Kris sighed. What else was there to say? Miss you, wish you were here? She snorted. This wasn't exactly your ordinary letter home.

Our supplies are still plentiful, and it has been raining for a few days now, but it hasn't been a problem so far. Every time I remember to stop and feel, I feel the rain on my face, and think of the day we first made love.

Had Kris known that Ryanne was reading her letters aloud to Cassidy, she would have warned her, or worded her sentences differently, but she had no idea that this letter would cause the blonde to turn numerous shades of scarlet, as she attempted to stumble over the words, and figure out a way to fix her embarrassment in front of her curious daughter. Her daughter who kept trying to read the letter for herself.

I remember the feel of your skin against mine, and the smell of our passion… it makes life here a little easier when I think of you, and of coming home.

Kris paused a moment, fingering her injured shoulder.

And I will be coming home. Soon.

One way or another, she thought, tiredly. I'll come home; one way or another.

Chapter Seventeen

A few days later, Kris received word that her reinforcements had arrived. Company 217, and their new additions, were going home on the next plane out. That meant they had to pack up their things, and make it to the chopper in three days, which meant a lot of heavy traveling.

But Kris and her men couldn't have cared if they'd been told they had to crawl over fifty miles of hot sand and eat broken glass before they could go home - all that mattered was that they were going home! And, to make things even better, they'd be home in time for Christmas, and even Thanksgiving!

"All right, boys," said Kris, as they packed, "this is it. I'm saying this now, in case we're too caught up in getting out of here to talk later on," she said, and everyone turned to her, giving her their undivided attention.

"I'd say it's been a pleasure, but it hasn't," she grinned, and received a few smiles in return. "It has, however, been a load off my mind, knowing that I've had you all beside me all the way. I picked those of you I did, because I knew you'd do well.

"And those of you we've since joined up with, had I known you back in Colorado, I would have chosen you, as well," she said, and smiled again. "Hell, you may even get a call from me over in Texas sometime!

"Henry, you've made me proud," she said. "And I'm sure your brother is just as satisfied with your performance. You've turned into a fine soldier," she added, and the boy nodded, solemnly.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said.

"Now, I'll inflate everyone else's ego later," she said, chuckling. "The longer we walk, the faster we'll get there, so this means we're going to have to move through the night, which could be dangerous. I'll lead the way, except at night. When we get into the forest, I want everyone to be on the lookout for booby traps and such," she said. "I know we haven't seen any yet, but we've got a lot of land to cover.

"Ready?" Everyone nodded, and shouldered their loads. "Okay, then. Let's go." Just a few hundred yards away from the camp, Kris held up her hand, and the soldiers came to a halt. Picking up a rock, Kris tossed it in front of her, and watched as a cover of leaves fell through, to reveal a deep hole. Peering over the edge, Kris drew in a surprised breath.

"Well, I'll be damned," she swore, softly. "Pongee sticks," she said, pointing to the bamboo sticks in the bottom of the hole. The twigs were sharpened to a point, and then covered with diseased substances, often feces. When the victim stepped in the trap, and fell into the hole, they were impaled on the points. If that didn't kill them, the infection would.

"Never thought I'd see any of those," said Jenkins, coming up beside her to look for himself. "This is a fine distance to view them from, though." Backing away, Kris motioned the men ahead of her, making sure everyone stayed away from the pit, and then joined them.

They moved carefully, through the night. When darkness came, Kris would find a marker, and stand there as she urged the soldiers past her, making sure everyone was accounted for.

At one point, she had to retrieve Jenkins, who was cowering in the corner for some reason or another. Going over to him, when he didn't respond to her voice, she realized the man was staring at the body of an American soldier - one of the Matheson's boys, Kris had no doubt. He had walked into a trap of some kind, or an ambush, Kris wasn't sure which had happened first, but the man now hung from a crude noose.

He had been there for a while, Kris decided, but knew she didn't have the proper tools to give him a decent burial, and it wouldn't do anything for the morale to haul back a dead body, so she had to leave him. Sending him a silent prayer, and saluting him, she pushed Jenkins forward.

Where he tripped on a wire, triggering a log to come swinging down towards them. She managed to get them out of the way, and then take cover when gunfire sprayed around them. When it was safe, she drug him out with her, and went to find the others, who had, luckily, all found a secure place to hide until the attack was over at dawn, and were unhurt.

Assembling the men again, the soldier pressed on, her men following close behind, heading towards home.

* * * * *

There was a knock at the door a few days after Kris' last letter arrived, and Ryanne leapt to answer it, seeing a glimpse of a camouflage suit, and hoping it was Kris. The soldier had said she'd be coming home soon, after all.

Opening the door, she was startled to see two uniformed officers standing there, both of whom she recognized, but neither was the soldier she was looking for.

"Miss Cole?" one of them asked.

"Can I help you?" Ryanne asked, smiling uncertainly.

"Miss Cole, I am Private Ronald Jenkins," introduced the man, "and this is Captain Bowman."

"I know you both," she said, smiling. They were friends; why were they acting so different? "Why are you two being so formal?"

"Ryanne," sighed the Captain, and the blonde started at the sound of her full name spilling from his lips for the first time, "it is… I must…" taking a deep breath, he choked back a sob, and said, his voice thick with emotion, "it is my sad duty, and I regret to inform you, that Staff Sergeant Kris Jones has been lost in the line of fire."

The woman just stared at him. "What? This is… uh, I mean… you're joking. This is all some kind of sick joke… isn't it?" she asked, her voice small.

No, it can't be, she thought. Not her soldier; not Kris. She couldn't be gone. She said she'd come back to me - she promised. This can't be happening… Please, God, not Kris. Don't take her away from me; Cassidy and I, we both need her. Don't let this happen…

"No, ma'am. I wish it was," added Jenkins. "We need you to come down to the base and collect her things, if you would. I was with her, ma'am, and she saved my life. Which is why, when you pick up her belongings, a Purple Heart will be among them. She was the bravest soldier I've ever known," he said, hanging his head in remembrance.

"What happened to her?" she asked, quietly.

"We were all asleep, and she woke us up, screaming for us to run towards the chopper, just to go as fast as we could," Jenkins said. "I turned back to call to her, just as the bomb hit. The blast really wasn't very strong, from where I was, but it would have done some major damage at the site of impact. I was far enough away not to get much more than an aftershock, which only lifted me off my feet a little, but I could still see Sergeant Jones and Private Thompson standing there arguing, almost exactly where the bomb landed.

"She's officially MIA, Missing In Action," he added, "because we don't have a body. But, I don't know how much we would have been able to bring back, so it's pretty much a given that she's KIA. Killed In Action," he explained. "She was a very good commander, RC. She's what kept most of us alive."

"Tell me about it," pleaded the blonde, inviting them in. They took a seat on the couch, while the defeated blonde sat heavily in the recliner.

Jenkins took a deep breath, and began his tale…

"Does this bombing ever stop?" whined a young soldier, Jeff York, to be precise.

"Eventually," said Kris, patting his shoulder. "If we can make it to dawn, it'll be okay." The man nodded, and suddenly, there was silence. Motioning for them to move, Jones crept up to the front, and urged them past her.

She frowned when the last soldier slipped past her - she was missing a man. Looking around, squinting in the darkness, she saw the soldier, cowering in the bushes. It was Jenkins, and he was staring numbly at the gently swaying body of a hanged American soldier.

"Jenkins, let's move!" she hissed, but the man didn't budge. Grabbing him by the collar of his suit, she screamed into his face, "Jenkins! Get your ass moving, damn it, or I'll drag you along myself! Now, go!" That shocked him out of his stupor, and he stumbled ahead of her.

"Step careful," she murmured. Purely by a miscalculation, Jenkins stepped wrong, and got his feet caught on a trap wire. Throwing them both to the ground, Jones covered the man until the log swung over them, and then shoved him forward, crawling on their stomachs.

Just then, dirt flew in patches in the air, as machine gun fire showered around them. Taking two fistfuls of Jenkins' clothes, Kris tugged him down with her and they dove into a ditch.

"Stay down," she hissed, pulling him down on top of her, not releasing her hold on the man's outfit. They stayed like that for nearly half an hour, until the sun came up over the horizon.

"Hey, Jenkins," Jones said, after a while, when all was quiet again, "I prefer being on top." That said, she shoved him off of her, and got to her feet. "Let's meet up with the others."

"Sarge, you saved me," voiced the soldier, quietly.

Kris grinned, and took him by the shoulder as they walked along. "You may be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you're still one of my men. Just watch where you step, huh?" she laughed…

"And I don't know how many more people she saved before and after me," finished Jenkins, and all occupants in the room had tears in their eyes.

"She got the Purple Heart… for bravery," said Ryanne, and the men nodded, getting to their feet.

"If there's anything we can do for you, just say the word," said Jenkins.

"There is something," she said, and the soldiers turned to her, expectantly.

"Name it," said the Captain.

"Can you get her things? Just box them up and send them over here. I, uh, I really don't think I can go down there right now," she said, running a shaky hand through her hair, and the soldiers nodded.

"Sure, we'll bring her stuff over in a day or two. Attention!" commanded the Captain, and they stood rigid. "Present colors!" A folded flag in a triangular wooden case was presented to RC, who took it solemnly. The flag was normally presented at the funeral, but the Captain insisted on bringing it to the blonde, since he doubted she would be able to attend the funerary services, and there was no actual burial for the Staff Sergeant.

Saluting the small blonde, the soldiers about-faced, and walked down the road to their truck. Ryanne closed the door behind them, dropped to her knees, and sobbed.

At the sound of her mother's tears, Cassidy ran to her side. "What's wrong, mother?" asked the youngster. "Where's Momma?"

"Oh, sweetheart," she said, grabbing her daughter tightly. "Momma won't be coming home."

"Yes, she will, mother, she promised," said the child. "Momma's just playing - she'll be back. Don't cry," said Cassidy, giving her mother a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"Okay, baby," cried Ryanne, not wanting to upset her daughter further.

* * * * *

As it turned out, Ryanne was indeed at the burial services, with a somber Cassidy in tow. The blonde thought she owed it to the men and women who had given their lives for others, even if it was a little hard for her to be there.

The funerals were scheduled to be all together, at 11:00, and Ryanne arrived ten minutes early, taking a seat in the front row. Cassidy sat beside her. The small girl was clothed in a black dress that was a miniature copy of her mother's, and she insisted on wearing Kris' oversized jacket, even though it was not that cold. The youngster never went anywhere without it.

Besides a few people in plain clothes, there were a good hundred soldiers in attendance. They were all clothed in their dress uniforms, looking regal, distinguished, and united. Even so, Ryanne had a vague thought of a jigsaw puzzle that had lost a few pieces.

Twenty-nine pieces, to be exact. Staff Sergeant Kris Jones was the only woman, and the only one of rank, other than Private. The caskets that held loyal soldiers were set to be lowered at 12 noon, and the ones who were officially MIA but obviously KIA had a monumental marble marker that was to be revealed at the end of the service.

At precisely 11:00, a plump woman - the Captain's wife, judging by whom she was sitting with, stood in front of a microphone stand. Music was heard, and the woman sang the national anthem. Then, the Chaplain gave a very nice sermon that left everyone with tears in their eyes. Beverly Bowman got up in front of the microphone again, wiped tears from her gentle brown eyes, and took a deep breath.

Ryanne had been okay until the woman sang the Army theme song - Kris' favorite tune. Then she lost it. Tears ran freely in remembrance of the tall soldier she'd lost, and Cassidy held her hand, softly but firmly. After the song was over, every soldier got to their feet, and stood at attention. The flags were presented to the families - teary eyed wives and mothers received the symbol of honor, and the men saluted the American flag when it was lowered to half-mast.

Here Cassidy struggled to get to her feet, since she wanted to stand at attention and give her own salute, but her mother's hand stopped her. The stone was revealed then. It was a deep gray granite, polished to a smooth shine, with 29 names engraved on the surface. Kris' was at the top, followed by 2 columns of 14, and a ghostly image of the American flag could be seen in the background. The monument was regarded in respectful silence.

"Honor guard!" belted out the Captain, and seven men stepped forward. "Present arms! Aim! Fire! Aim! Fire!" The procedure was repeated three times, for a 21 gun salute, and then there was silence so deafening Ryanne didn't know if she could stand it. The blonde knew there was no better way for the soldiers to pass over than with honor, and the Staff Sergeant and her men received all the respect she could muster.

The services were over, and the men in uniform formed a line, walking slowly past their comrades' relatives. When they got to Ryanne, they shook her hand, saluted her, and a few even hugged her.

Jenkins brought up the rear, and hung behind to speak with her. "Thank you for coming," he said, softly, gripping her hand before pulling the woman into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry I couldn't bring her home," he murmured.

Ryanne pulled back, and put her hands on the man's broad shoulders. "She died doing what she loved, and she made a difference. She died a hero. That's more than she ever hoped for," she said, through her tears.

The soldier nodded, clicked his heels, and saluted the small blonde. Cassidy jumped to her feet. Her mother had told her no to every other officer, but wasn't paying attention this time. The youngster stood straight, and saluted the soldier. Jenkins glanced down at the girl, and, biting his lip to halt the flow of fresh tears, changed his salute to match Cassidy's. Turning on his heel, he joined up with the other, and they returned to the base.

The weeks passed slowly. The soldiers brought Kris' things, packed neatly into several boxes, to the house two days after the blonde received the news, and the small woman had yet to look through them. Each day was harder than the next, and at times the only thing that convinced the young woman to keep going was the knowledge that Cassidy needed her.

Ryanne and Cassidy still stayed at Kris' home, RC taking a job at the base. She worked in the Mess Hall while Cassidy kept some of the secretaries or men on detail company. Normally, the base didn't pay their employees that well, at least not in the Mess Hall, but being "next-of-kin" to the late Staff Sergeant had its advantages. The pay from that, and nearly half the income of the café that Barry insisted on running for her, was enough for the blonde to keep up with the bills.

It was Christmas when Cassidy began to think that Kris may have broken her promise. Ryanne walked in her room on Christmas Day, to find the small girl furiously shoving her Army jacket into her closet.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" asked the blonde.

"I don't want it anymore," said the girl, tears forming in her eyes. Before Ryanne could even ask why, the child sat down on the floor, sobbing. "She promised she'd come back, mother. Why didn't she come back? Doesn't she love us?"

"Oh, Cassidy," sighed Ryanne, gathering her daughter in her arms. "I miss her, too, honey. But it'll be okay; we'll be okay."

New Year's Eve was the hardest for the woman. She spent it with her daughter, who fell asleep by 9 o'clock, despite protests that she was old enough to stay up until the ball dropped. Ryanne tucked her into bed, and then resigned the rest of the evening to thinking about her soldier, since nothing could take her mind elsewhere. As the countdown began, and the new year was reached, the young blonde was curled up on the couch, tears streaming down her lonely face, dreaming of the soldier's strong arms wrapped protectively around her, and waking to the chill of being alone.

* * * * *

One day in April, while Cassidy was busy teaching the Captain how to play hop-scotch - the man was bored, and decided to entertain the youngster - Ryanne walked over to the Mess Hall. She had taken a break for a few minutes, and was on her way back, when she heard a familiar laugh.

Turning towards the noise, Ryanne couldn't believe her eyes. There, throwing her head back and laughing along with a group of men, dressed in camouflage pants and a black T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, her hair a little shorter but her eyes the same stunning blue - was Kris! She'd know the woman anywhere!

"Kris!" she cried, and ran towards the woman, wrapping her arms around the soldier in a fierce hug.

The startled woman took a step back, hastily removing the strong grip from her waist, and eyed the blonde, warily. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, her piercing blue eyes a little angry.

"You're Kris Jones, aren't you?" asked Ryanne, but the woman shook her head, as did the soldiers around her, exchanging glances.

"No, sorry," she said, quickly. "You must have me mistaken for someone else." Without waiting for a response, the tall soldier walked off, leaving a very confused and very hurt Ryanne behind her.

Ryanne could have sworn that she had seen Kris. Of course, it had happened before, just after news of the soldier's death, when Ryanne saw the woman's face everywhere she looked.

"I think we need coffee, Ryanne," she said, aloud, shaking her head as she walked away, trying to figure out why the images were starting again.

Ryanne decided she needed more than coffee, she needed a real break. Reporting to Captain Bowman, RC was told she could take the rest of the day off, and even longer, if she needed.

"Thank you, sir," she said. "I'll be at home, if you need me."

"Take care, RC. And get some rest. I'll send Cassidy home with Jenkins," he added, and saluted the young blonde as she left, the two having become closer with the death of their friend. When Ryanne arrived at the house, she went directly into the living room, kneeled in front of the mantle, gazed up at the encased flag, and wept. She wept for her lost love, she wept for the innocence of her daughter who insisted Momma was coming back, and for her own mistake earlier in the day, assuming Kris was alive and well when she knew better.

"I know they said you were gone," she sobbed, "but I don't want to believe it. You promised you'd come home - you said you were too ornery to die! My heart tells me you're still out there, somewhere. I don't know why you don't come home, but I hope you're safe."

Twenty minutes later, when she had run out of tears, Ryanne walked numbly into the adjoining room, where three large brown boxes were visibly labeled "SS Jones". Opening the first one, Ryanne decided it was time to finally look through the contents. After all, it had been more than six months.

Blowing half a year's worth of dust off the top, Ryanne removed the tape from the nearest box, and opened the flaps. She frowned, slightly, when the first thing she saw was a notebook. A diary, of sorts.

Carefully removing the book, Ryanne opened to the first page, and was startled when a loose sheet fell to the ground. Picking it up, she unfolded it, and told herself she wouldn't cry when she recognized the familiar penmanship of the late soldier. It was dated August 14th…

My dearest Ryanne,

If you are reading this, then the chances are good that I am gone. Please, I'm sure you've done enough crying already, don't shed anymore tears over this. I'm certain that I'm in a better place, now, so there's no need worrying about me. Like that's ever stopped you before, right?

Ryanne smiled a little, and held back her tears as she read more of the letter.

Ryanne, know that I have loved you from the moment I saw you. The sight of this beautiful blonde running a café all by herself, managing to play waitress, manager, and kind friend all at the same time, you amazed me. And then, later on, when I found out you had a daughter…! You are truly incredible, Ryanne.

Let Cassidy know that her Momma loves her, and always will. You can ask any of the guys in my company how I showed each and every one of them your letter, when you told me that Cassidy had started calling me "Momma". I'm sure they got tired of it after the third time around, but they were kind enough not to say anything.

The blonde grinned as she imagined a proud Kris showing off the words to everyone, beaming with an ear-to-ear smile.

Do you remember that day, so long ago, when you first came to the base? And I told you that you could call me for anything, and the answer would always be yes?

How could I forget? wondered Ryanne.

The offer still stands, sweetheart. Just because I'm not with you physically doesn't mean I won't be by your side for the rest of your life. I'll watch over you and our daughter from heaven, until the day, hopefully far off, still, when I can see you again. I'll miss you both terribly, I have no doubt, but don't be in a hurry to join me, okay? You and Cassidy have a full life to live together, and do whatever it takes to make you happy. If you can say, right now, that I made you happy… that's all I've ever wanted, you know.

Take care, my love, and salute our Junior Sergeant for me!

You will hold my heart for the rest of your days, Ryanne.

All my love,

Kris

Despite the instructions of the letter, Ryanne folded the paper back up, and cried. She missed her soldier all the more, and the sweet words had gone straight to her heart. "You have always made me happy," she said, before sobbing even harder.

Flipping through the other pages of the notebook, Ryanne decided it was not only a diary, it was a safe place Kris had found to keep the letters she had written her, as they were all clipped inside. The woman decided not to continue to sort through the rest of the boxes; at least, no more for that day. Just one letter was trying enough.

An hour and a half later, Ryanne was working on cleaning the kitchen - she had to do something to keep busy. She didn't want to read the diary just yet, she was saving that for nighttime, when she could be alone with her tears.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and the blonde answered the call. To her surprise, and slight amusement, there stood the Kris-look-alike, with Cassidy in her arms, clinging to her neck. The woman looked like she was very tired, and Ryanne hoped Cassidy hadn't bothered her.

"Can I help you?" she asked, kindly, hiding her smile.

The woman gave her a half-smirk, full of nervousness, and met her eyes, saying, "I think you can, Ryanne. I'm Kris Jones."

Chapter Eighteen

Ryanne was instantly alert. The woman had said she wasn't Kris, and now she showed up at her door, saying she was?? Something wasn't right…

"You said you weren't," she said, a little angry. "What made you change your mind? Is this some kind of cruel joke?" she demanded.

Cassidy stirred in the soldier's arms, muttering, "Momma," in her sleep. "Listen," said the soldier, "I don't blame you for having your doubts. Just let me put the pip-squeak down in the bedroom, and I'll explain everything. Please," she added, when the blonde seemed hesitant.

Ryanne nodded, and was going to tell the woman which bedroom to take her in, when the soldier breezed past her, heading straight for Cassidy's room. The blonde noticed that the dark-haired woman walked with a noticeable limp in her right leg. Ryanne followed close behind, still cautious, unable to withhold her smile when the tall woman tucked the youngster in, and kissed her forehead.

"Can we go to the living room?" asked the woman, and Ryanne nodded, following the tall soldier as she led the way. The woman's blue eyes looked a little cloudy as she sat down in the recliner.

"Can I get you something to drink?" asked Ryanne, politely, as she took a seat on the couch, but the woman smiled, and shook her head.

"No, thank you," she said. "I understand why you don't believe me, Ryanne. I told you earlier that I wasn't Kris, because I didn't think I was." Ryanne's brow furrowed. "I am Kris Jones. I guess it'd be a good idea to start at the beginning, huh? Okay," sighed the soldier, leaning back as she told her story…

"Let's move, guys!" said Kris, pushing a few of her men up the hill. "We're on the home stretch. Once we get over this hill, we can find a few trees to hide behind. All we need is shelter for the night. We're almost there," she urged.

It was the last day they were scheduled to be there, but Jones had a sinking feeling they'd be there for a while longer. A helicopter was waiting for them in the safe zone, but they had to make it there, first.

It was nearly dusk, and Kris knew nighttime was bad if you didn't have shelter. The foxholes in the ground weren't bad, but they were Hell to get out of in a hurry. No, the best place to stay was in a lean-to, where, if the whistle of a bomb was heard, and that sound was becoming rather frequent, everyone could haul ass out of the area, rather than having to scramble out of a hole, and then find their footing on the ground.

"Shit!" she cursed, diving for the top of the hill as a shot whizzed by her foot, grazing her ankle. Her men were waiting for her on the other side of the hill, and she rolled the rest of the way down.

"Sarge, you're hit!" exclaimed a few of them, dragging her to safety.

"Not bad," she assured them, taking the first-aid kit out of her bag once she sure they were safe for the time being. In the middle of removing her boot, she paused. "Has anyone seen Thompson?" she asked, and one lad spoke up.

"He radioed in a few minutes ago," he said.

Kris took the radio from the nearest Private's bag, since hers needed repairs. It had been damaged when she tripped over a tree root, and crushed it. Keying the radio, she called to the missing man. "Thompson, come in," she said. "Thompson, this is your Sergeant. Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, ma'am," said the man. "But, don't yell, please, ma'am. My head is killing me."

"Where are you, soldier?" asked Jones, slipping her boot back on as she spoke. She hadn't gotten a chance to patch up her ankle yet, but that could wait.

"I'm back at the last marker, ma'am," he replied. "I managed to hide under a tree when it fell on me."

Kris rolled her eyes, and swore under her breath. The bombing had been getting extremely close, too close for Kris' comfort, but so far no one had been hurt.

Scratch that, she sighed.

"Well, don't go anywhere," she said, and heard the man chuckle. "I'll be right there."

As she ended the transmission, Jenkins spoke up. "Ma'am, you can't go out there! You haven't even tended to your own wounds, and it's nearly nighttime," he protested.

"I'm aware of that, soldier," she said, readying her pack on her shoulders. "All of you stay put, all right? Jenkins is in charge until I get back." Then, as if rethinking her actions, she froze. "And if I don't make it back, make sure this gets home." Sparing a brief moment to throw Jenkins a notebook, the woman flashed them a crooked grin, and took off.

If the men didn't know any better, they could have sworn their Sergeant was, at the very least, an angel. She seemed to run straight through the path of fire, and yet remained unscathed. The soldier dashed across the field, and her entire company kept an eye on her, until they couldn't see her anymore.

"I thought she was kidding on that first day, when she said, "I am Staff Sergeant Kris Jones, and I am God"," muttered Peters.

"Thompson!" hissed Jones, and she heard the man call to her. "Keep talking, soldier," she ordered, and he obeyed, until his commanding officer was right next to him. "Nice job, Thompson. How many times do I have to tell you not to French-kiss these trees? They don't take kindly to the likes of you," she grinned, assessing the damage, all the while keeping the man's humor up.

"Well, I figured if I couldn't get close to my superior officer, I'd go for the next best thing," he said, and Kris laughed.

"That's the spirit!" she said, noticing that the man's left leg was twisted at an unnatural angle under the tree, while his right leg merely seemed to be stuck. "Listen to me, Robert," she said, using his name for the first time. "I'm going to find a way to lift this hunk of firewood off you, okay? And when I do that, you're going to slide yourself out from under it with your arms. I don't give a damn how much it hurts, you'll get out of here, okay?"

The man grinned. "Is that an order?" he asked.

"Damn straight," replied Jones. "You die on me and I'll kill you." Suddenly, an idea hit her. Moving a large rock so it was inches from Thompson's waist, and just three inches beneath the fallen tree, Jones withdrew her ax.

"Ma'am, it was funny, really it was!" protested the soldier, upon seeing the weapon, and Jones cracked a smile.

"Oh, I know you like my jokes, Thompson," she said, and the use of his last name made the man feel a little better. "I'm going to slip the ax handle under the tree but over the rock, to use as leverage. I'll lift the tree with all my weight. On my mark. Ready?" she prompted, and the man nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Kris said, "Mark!" and put her full weight on the handle of the ax, gritting her teeth as sweat broke out of on her forehead. Slowly but surely, the tree moved a few inches, and Robert Thompson quickly moved backwards, away from the tree, as he had been told.

"Good man," she said, letting the tree fall back down, barely removing her ax in time to keep the wood from splintering under the weight. "Hey, it's only twisted!" she announced, after a quick examination. Granted, it was severely twisted, but the bone was not broken.

"Now, if I offer you a piggy-back ride, do you promise to behave yourself?" she asked, knowing the man probably couldn't walk very well. Even if his leg wasn't broken, his limbs were sure to be numb.

"Not on your life," he responded, draping his arm around his Sergeant's shoulders as the woman wrapped a strong arm around his waist for support.

"Let's make a dash back for camp. Do you think you can make it?" she asked, seriously, all joking gone from her voice.

"I'll try, ma'am," he said. "And if I don't, leave me."

"Bullshit," replied Kris, vehemently. "I didn't come all the way over here to leave you. We're both getting over to the others if I have to drag you by the root of your hair," she said, knowing very well the man shaved his head before the mission, and so had very little hair atop his head.

"Hey, if you can do it, more power to you," he said.

"Okay, ready," she said, and heard him take a deep breath. "Now!" she screamed, and both soldiers ran full force across the field, Kris practically dragging the man the entire way, supporting most of his weight, collapsing in a heap as they made it to the opposite side.

"Sarge, you made it!" exclaimed the men, immediately rushing to take care of both of their comrades.

"God!" cried Thompson, when the men started to remove his boots.

Kris grinned, and patted the man on the shoulder. "You don't have to call me that," she said, and walked away to retrieve her notebook from Jenkins. "Thanks," she said, quickly glancing through it to make sure everything was still there.

"You don't trust me, ma'am?" asked the soldier, slightly hurt, and Kris smiled at him, reassuringly.

"I trust you," she said. "I just have to make sure everything is in here when this gets sent home. I check it several times a day. Thanks again, Jenkins," she added, and the man nodded.

"All right, all of you," she said, and the men turned to face her. "We'll make camp here. We head out at dawn, where the chopper's waiting." At this, a low holler of hope went up within the ranks, and Kris grinned. At least their morale was still up.

Thompson continued to curse when the men worked on his legs. "Goddamn it!" he hissed.

Kris heard it from her place across the camp, where Franklin was looking at her ankle, and trying to decide whether or not to sew the patch of skin back on. "I'm a little busy right now, Thompson, I don't have time to damn anything. You'll have to wait your turn," she called, and several men chuckled at their exchange.

"Why? Who's ahead of me?" he asked.

"Damn!" cried a soldier, smashing his thumb between two rocks as he searched for grubs - food was in supply, but Kris had told them not to waste it if they could handle roughage for a while.

"Him," said Kris, laughing. Her laughter stopped when the medic poured peroxide over her wound, and she inhaled through her teeth. "Fuck," she hissed, "that burns. Are you really helping, or do you just like to see me squirm, Franklin?" she asked the doctor, who chuckled.

Thompson cursed under his breath, "Shit, that hurts. Goddamn!"

"No!" called Jones, sharply, and the men laughed again. Kris was glad their spirits still seemed to be intact, and encouraged them that morning would bring the last stretch of land to the chopper, which meant home.

But Company 217 never made it to dawn. Around midnight, on August 16th, Kris Jones' sensitive hearing picked up the whistle of a bomb.

"Go!" she screamed into the night, startling the men out of their slumber. "Everybody run, now! GO!" she cried, and they all scrambled into the night. "Jenkins," she said, shoving the notebook into the fleeing man's arms, "make sure Ryanne gets this. Now, run!" The man nodded, quickly, and then resumed his course.

"Thompson, it's time for another piggy-back," she said, and went to lift the man over her shoulders, but he pushed her away.

"I'll only slow you down, Sergeant!" he insisted. "Leave! Go, so you can see RC again!"

"Jenkins has the notebook," she said, "he'll get it to her. As long as she has that, she knows I love her. Now, let's move!" The man refused to cooperate. "So help me God, Thompson, if you don't obey my goddamn command, you'll be the first one I come back to haunt, you stubborn son of a bitch!"

No amount of ordering, or cursing, could get the man to move, and the tall female soldier was still arguing with him when the bomb hit, sending them both flying into the air…

"I woke up in the hospital about a week later," said the soldier. "The men must have escaped the blast, because only Thompson and I were in there. He didn't make it," she said, sadly. "I woke up with amnesia. My dog tags read Kris Jones, but I had no idea who that was. The reinforcements must have brought us in, because no one in the hospital knew anything about what had happened.

"I decided it would be better to start a new life, rather than try to figure out who I was, and cause the people who knew me pain," she explained. "The doctors told me it was temporary, but after a month of remembering absolutely nothing, I gave up. I gave myself a new name, Kelly Thompson, in memory of Robert," she admitted, and looked away, feeling a little awkward in the silence.

"But why did you come back to the base?" asked Ryanne, speaking for the first time since the soldier began her story.

"I figured if I had been a soldier once, I could start over again," she shrugged. "My hair was much shorter, because during the blast, I had suffered a head injury, and they had to shave my head for the operation, and the bullet wound I received in my ankle left me with a permanent limp, so I didn't think anyone would recognize me. A few would mention something about how I looked familiar, but I always convinced them otherwise. I mean, they say everyone has a twin," she said.

"When I saw you today, and you asked me if I was Kris Jones, I nearly bolted," she admitted. "I didn't want to run into anyone from my old past, because I knew it would be frustrating, not being able to remember who they were. And I was right. That's why I told you I wasn't Kris Jones," she said.

"What changed your mind?" asked Ryanne, and here the woman smiled a little.

"Cassidy," she said. "I was on my way to my quarters, I've been staying in the barracks that most reserve officers use, when she ran up to me and threw her arms around my waist. I was startled, at first, and had no idea who she was.

"Jenkins was taking her home, but she had seen me, and ran from him, yelling "Momma! Momma!" as loud as she could. Jenkins had seen me before, and he thought of me as Kelly Thompson, not his former Staff Sergeant's look-alike. So he came up and apologized for her, and I saluted him, since he was of higher rank than 'Kelly Thompson' - he's been promoted to Staff Sergeant, you know. I didn't have to, but it'd become kind of a habit.

"Anyway, Cassidy saw me salute him, and did that little salute of her own," she said, grinning as she demonstrated, placing her right hand over her right eye.

"Suddenly, it hit me," said the soldier. "That little movement reminded me of everything. All the memories came rushing back to me. Cassidy, the soldiers, the war… you," she said, meeting Ryanne's green eyes. "I remember meeting you in the café, and I remember scaring the piss out of some guy when he tried to feel up on you, and how you were so damn honest when you tried to give me back my change from that hundred dollar bill," she said, and was going to continue, but became too choked up.

"I remembered all of it. It came rushing back in a flood, and the memories hit me so fast, Jenkins says I passed out," she said. "The next thing I know, I'm lying on the ground, looking up at Cassidy and Jenkins. All of a sudden, I just started laughing. I was so happy that I finally had my life back," she smiled.

"Cassidy said it was time to go home, so I brought her by, and decided to see if I could come home, too," she finished, and Ryanne met her gaze.

"It is you," she breathed, and Kris nodded, opening her arms as Ryanne fell into them, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Kris. I've missed you!"

"I've missed you, too, my love," she said. "It feels so good to hold you again."

Ryanne hugged her for all she was worth, as tears soaked the soldier's shoulder. "Oh, Kris, I'm so glad you're home," she murmured, kissing her face. "I missed you so very much. I was so lost without you! I don't want to lose you again," she said, evenly.

Kris met her eyes, tears streaming down both women's faces, and said, almost inaudibly, "I don't want to lose you, either. It was so scary, not knowing who I was. I had dreams, dreams of my past, but I couldn't put them together. I dreamt of you, and of Cassidy, and of the war. God, the war was a nightmare, not a dream," she said, hoarsely, as she remembered.

"Men got shot standing right next to me," she said. "I patched them up as best I could, but there was so much blood, and I loaded them on the chopper, not knowing if I'd ever see them again."

The blonde smiled, gently, and stroked the woman's cheek. "Kris, because of you, because of your efforts, Thompson was the only one lost from your company, besides yourself," she said, and Kris looked surprised.

"Everyone else made it?" she asked, and Ryanne nodded. "Parker, and York, and Jenkins?" Another nod, and the tall soldier looked as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Thank God," she muttered, laying her head on the blonde's shoulder with relief.

She looked up, to find Ryanne staring at her. "What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman.

Ryanne grinned, and ran her fingers through Kris' hair, which was about five inches shorter than she remembered. "I'm just not used to seeing you with your hair this short," she admitted, and Kris shrugged.

"It'll grow back," she said. "You should've seen me when I first got out of the hospital," she smiled. "I had to wear a baseball cap for a long time, because I was almost completely bald. Saved on hairbrushes for a while," she joked.

The blonde met her eyes, and suddenly turned serious. "I missed you terribly," she said, kissing the woman, passionately. Kris groaned at the forgotten bliss, and broke free to trail her lips along the blonde's neck.

Surprising Ryanne immensely, Kris rose out of the chair, carrying the woman easily in her arms as she walked down the hallway and into her bedroom. Setting her precious cargo gently on the bed, Kris laid beside her, and kissed her softly as she caressed her cheek, lovingly.

"Kris," begged the blonde, as the woman nuzzled at her neck, "make love to me."

The soldier smiled, and pulled back, running her fingers through her love's hair. "I'd love nothing more, sweetheart," she began, "but this has been a long day for me, and I'm so happy to simply be here, with you. I'd like to just hold you tonight, if that's okay?" she asked, quietly.

Ryanne grinned, and gave the woman a reassuring hug as she nestled into her warm shoulder. "It's more than okay, love," she said, wrapping her arms around her soldier's waist as she snuggled in close. The tall woman smiled when, minutes later, a soft snore told her Ryanne had had a long day, as well, and was now fast asleep in her embrace.

Kris sighed happily as she held the woman in her arms. The soldier knew what she had to do - she needed to convince Captain Bowman that she really was Kris Jones, and maybe she could get her rank back. Then, the woman planned on coming home and taking Ryanne and Cassidy horseback riding, all across the land, just for the sake of being with them.

But, that could wait. Tomorrow, she thought, kissing the blonde's temple as she curled up beside her, and closed her eyes. There's time for all that tomorrow. Right now, I'm home, and that's all that matters.

I never thought I'd be able to say that - I'm home. It was what all her soldiers had longed to say, throughout the course of the war; and, thanks to her, all but one, and one from Colorado, had the opportunity to do so. I think I'll see Robert and his family tomorrow. See how they're doing, and just let him know I made it okay.

On the brink of sleep, Kris wrapped her arms around her lover tightly, and whispered softly into her ear, knowing somehow that there would be no nightmares for her that night.

"I'm home."

Chapter Nineteen

Kris awoke with a start, and then relaxed as the woman in her arms snuggled closer as she slept. The tall soldier kissed the blonde's forehead, remembering the night before and all they had talked about. The woman had been scared that Ryanne wouldn't believe her, and would refuse to take her back, but now that all was right, she felt about a hundred pounds lighter.

God, I've missed waking up like this,she thought. I didn't even know what I was missing, but I knew it was something important. Not remembering was bad enough, but to have dreams of people I should have known but didn't was worse.

She sighed, happily. "I'm so glad to be home," she murmured.

"Me, too," came the sleepy response, and Ryanne turned in her arms to face her, giving her a long kiss. "I've missed that."

The soldier raised an eyebrow at her. "Really?" she asked. "So, you missed my kisses, hm?"

Ryanne smiled, and moved until she was lying on top of the woman, comfortably. "And so much more," she whispered, moving in for a deep kiss. "All rested now?"

Kris grinned. "Uh-huh," she said, "but our daughter is awake. Come on in, pip-squeak," she said, and the girl shyly opened the bedroom door the rest of the way, hopping up on the bed next to Kris.

"Morning, Momma," she said, cheerfully.

"Morning, Cassidy," replied Kris. "You know, I don't think I would have recognized you, you've grown up so much." The girl beamed. "How's my Junior Sergeant been?"

"Good," replied the youngster. "Know what, Momma?" Kris shook her head. "I'm almost six! Barry says that's halfway to 12!"

Both Kris and Ryanne exchanged glances, and groaned, Kris making a mental note to have a little heart-to-heart with Barry sometime soon.

"Sweetheart, you're making your mother feel old," said Ryanne, grinning.

"Can I help you make breakfast?" the girl asked, and Ryanne nodded.

"Sure, honey," said the blonde. "You go find the pancake mix for me, and set the table, okay?" The girl nodded, and scampered away to the kitchen. "Kris, it's great to have you back, love. Breakfast will be ready soon," she added, leaving the woman with a quick kiss.

Kris sighed, and sprawled out on the bed. "I'm home, in my own bed, and the woman I love is cooking me breakfast, with the help of our daughter. Good God, I'm lucky as Hell," she said, aloud. "I'm going to have to go see Robert and his family; maybe even Henry. Just a surprise visit to say hi," she decided.

A warm smell of cooking pancakes made its way to her nose, and she grinned. Almost involuntarily, the woman got to her feet, not noticing she was still in her clothes from the day before, and wandered into the kitchen.

"My God, that smells good," she said, coming up to slip an arm around Ryanne's shoulders. "I'm going to go check on Wind Dancer. I'll be back in a few minutes," she said, before heading outside to visit her long-forgotten mare.

"Hey, girl," she greeted, and the horse snorted excitedly, instantly recognizing the scent of her mistress. "Yeah, I missed you, too," she laughed, patting the mare firmly on the neck. "What do you say we go riding later today? Maybe take Ryanne and Cassidy with us?"

Wind Dancer agreed, and happily wrapped her neck around the tall woman's back, pulling her in for a horse's equivalent of a hug.

Kris chuckled. "Thanks, sweetheart," she said, kissing the velvet nose. "I'll see you after breakfast, okay?" Tossing a bit of hay and oats in the stall, she spoke quietly to her mare for a few more minutes, before Cassidy came running out to announce that breakfast was ready, and led her into the house. Her limp was still quite noticeable, but it didn't hurt anymore, which was a rather new development.

"Oh, this looks great," she said, sitting down at the table, inhaling the aromas of pancakes, ham, bacon, eggs, and toast that assailed her nostrils as she glanced around at all the food. Fixing her plate with a little of everything, she took her first bite, and grinned.

"Tastes even better," she commented. "Much better than Army food." Ryanne smiled, beaming with pleasure that the soldier enjoyed the meal. "You did a good job on the pancakes, pip-squeak," complimented Kris, and Cassidy couldn't stop the grin that spread across her face if she'd tried.

When the meal was finished, Ryanne smiled when Cassidy began clearing the table without being asked. The small blonde stood to help her daughter, and placed a hand on Kris' shoulder, telling her to remain sitting. With a shrug, the tall woman obeyed, and closed her eyes as she relaxed.

"Open your mouth," came the soft command, and with a raised eyebrow, the soldier didn't hesitate, trusting the small woman completely. When a plump berry was placed in her mouth, she bit down, eyes opening as the scrumptious flavor of the strawberry exploded on her tongue.

"Hm," she said, smiling, "where did you get that and do you have any more?" With a grin, Ryanne produced an entire bowl full of the ripe fruit, and was about to place another one in her lover's mouth, when Cassidy rushed to join her, opening her mouth expectantly. Laughing, the blonde fed both Kris and Cassidy, taking a few for herself.

"So, who's up for a little horseback riding?" Cassidy squealed with delight, and Ryanne responded the same, however with less enthusiasm than her daughter. With an admirable amount of patience, Kris explained to Cassidy everything that went into preparation for a ride, including grooming the horse and checking the saddle blanket for any burrs that might irritate Wind Dancer's skin.

Twenty minutes later, the mare was saddled, and ready to ride. Mounting with ease, Kris reached a hand down to Cassidy, who laughed as the woman swiftly put her in front of her in the saddle.

"Are you sure she'll be okay?" asked Ryanne, and Kris nodded.

"I promise, honey," she said, smiling at the blonde, before nudging her horse gently in the sides with her knees, sending her into a swift trot. Cassidy smiled, and asked to go faster, to which Kris asked Wind Dancer to break into a gallop, and Ryanne realized that the mare's name was very appropriate, as Kris and Cassidy seemed to be flying.

A while later, not wanting the girl to be too sore after the ride, which brought normally ignored muscles into use, Kris returned to the house, and dropped Cassidy into her mother's arms. The child walked stiffly inside to get a drink of water, as Kris chuckled, and offered her hand to Ryanne, who shook her head.

"Oh, no," she said, backing away. "I don't think so."

"Come on, sweetheart," urged Kris, surprising the blonde by having the horse sidestep towards her. "It's fun, and I'll keep you safe, I swear. Give it a try, please? For me?" she added, and Ryanne gave her a mock scowl.

"Oh, okay," she sighed. "But only for you." With a grin, Kris helped her up, and made sure she was settled before urging Wind Dancer into a walk. When she turned that into a trot, the soldier felt the woman in front of her gasp, and wrapped her arm around her stomach, securely.

"You're all right," she soothed. "Just relax, and let Wind Dancer do all the work." Taking a deep breath, the small blonde tried to do just that, and found herself settling back into the woman she loved.

"I've got to admit," she said, resting her head on Kris' shoulder, "this is kind of fun. Once you get past the "My God, she's a big horse and I think I'm gonna fall off" scary part."

Kris chuckled, and squeezed her tightly, bringing Wind Dancer into a lope. The two rode around for a while, without so much as a hair's width separating them, as Cassidy watched from the stalls, munching on the bowl of strawberries.

When Ryanne had had enough, Kris removed the riding equipment from her mare, as the blonde got used to walking on solid ground again. Placing the tack in the shed she'd set up for that purpose, the tall soldier helped Cassidy and Ryanne brush Wind Dancer once more, and then they all three walked into the house together.

"Momma, can we watch a movie?" asked Cassidy, and Kris shrugged.

"Sure, sweetheart," she replied. "Which one?"

"This one!" the girl cried, finding a Disney movie in the cupboard that Kris didn't remember buying. The soldier nodded, and the girl happily put it in the VCR, insisting that both women watch it with her. Kris sighed, deciding her discussion with the Captain could wait another day, and resigned herself to spending all day with her two most favorite people in the world.

Just as the main character, a young Tarzan, was making a mess of things, there was a knock at the door. Frowning slightly, the tall woman got up from the couch, and motioned for Ryanne to remain sitting. Opening the door, she blinked once or twice to make sure she was seeing correctly.

"Mother?" she asked, surprised.

If Kris was shocked, Noreen was dumbfounded. Taking a few steps back, her eyes grew wide, and she opened her mouth a few times, but no sound came out.

Kris took her hand, and led her inside. "Come on, mom," she said, gently. "Why don't you sit down?"

"But… Ryanne told me you were dead," the woman protested, and the blonde joined them in the kitchen, leaving Cassidy to finish the movie on her own.

"I thought she was," said Ryanne, softly, getting the older woman a glass of water, before coming to stand beside the tall soldier, who had taken a seat next to her mother at the kitchen table.

"I had amnesia," Kris explained. "The guys thought I was dead, and I didn't know who I was - there was no way for anyone to know I was alive. Just yesterday, I ran into Cassidy, and everything came back," she said. "I've just been enjoying being home today."

"Well, yes, but… okay. What happened to your hair?"

Kris chuckled. "Had to shave it off a while ago," she replied. "The doctors had to get rid of it for the surgery."

"Surgery!" exclaimed Noreen, and Kris sighed.

"Apparently I had some shrapnel in my skull they had to take care of," said the soldier, and Ryanne gasped - she hadn't asked the actual reason, and now gripped Kris' hand, sympathizing with the pain the soldier must have felt when she awoke.

Noreen was quiet for a moment, and then stood to give her daughter a long hug. "I'm so glad you're okay," she whispered, tear in her eyes, as Kris returned the embrace. "I just stopped by to say hi, and see how Ryanne was doing, but this is quite the surprise!"

Mother and daughter talked for a while, before Cassidy came in and gave her grandmother a hug, and spent ten minutes telling her everything that was going on in school. When that was done, Noreen reluctantly said she had to go, because she cooked dinner for a friend of hers every Saturday night, and couldn't cancel.

"I'm glad you came, mom," said Kris, as she walked her mother to the door. "I love you," she added, and Noreen smiled.

"I love you, too, Kris," she said, before driving off, her heart not as empty now that she had her daughter back. The news of her daughter's death had been devastating to the woman, and she and Ryanne had often shared a good cry over their loss, but she was slowly getting better. Now, it looked like her grieving was over!

* * * * *

Monday morning found the tall soldier and the small blonde on their way to Lincoln Army Base. Kris hadn't wanted to disturb the Captain on a Sunday, or so she said - she really just wanted another day to spend with Cassidy and Ryanne before she became Staff Sergeant again. As it turned out, she was extremely glad she waited, because another day of riding and Cassidy was completely worn out, sleeping soundly as her mother gave Kris a proper welcome home she wasn't soon to forget…

"Ryanne," said Kris, as they climbed under the covers.

"Hm?" asked the blonde.

"Cassidy's out for the night," the soldier purred, snuggling close as she kissed the woman's cheek, before nibbling lightly on an earlobe she found nearby.

"So?" asked Ryanne, and Kris paused, only slightly.

"So, I was kind of hoping I could make love to you," the woman admitted, smiling a little as her hand found it's way up Ryanne's nightshirt.

"No."

The hand stopped, as did Kris' heart. "What?" she asked, disbelieving.

"I said, no," repeated Ryanne.

Disappointed, and hurt, Kris removed her hand, and rolled over onto her back. "Oh, okay," she sighed, and thoughts raced through her mind as to what she could have done to anger the small blonde.

"Kris?"

"What?"

"Do you know why I said no?"

"No," the soldier confessed, softly.

Ryanne grinned, as she moved to straddle the tall soldier's waist. "Because, it's your turn," she said, and Kris swallowed hard at the emerald eyes that seemed to devour her soul with a glance.

"Oh."

The blonde started off slow, kissing her way down to the collar of Kris' shirt, before peeling it off and continuing her trek. Just as the soldier was about remove Ryanne's shirt herself, the woman stopped her ministrations, and gasped.

"Oh, Kris," said Ryanne, quietly.

Kris frowned. "What is it?"

"Your shoulder," said the blonde, staring at the ugly scar that was illuminated in the low lighting. "What happened?"

"Got in the way of a bullet," she shrugged, and frightened green eyes met her own steady blue gaze.

"When?"

"When I wrote you that last letter I mailed," Kris confessed.

"…and you didn't tell me?" Ryanne questioned, a little hurt.

"I didn't want to worry you."

Ryanne just shook her head, lovingly, and lightly kissed the mark, before tracing it with her tongue, causing Kris to take a surprised breath. And the rest of the night was a passionate blur…

At any rate, she waited until Monday to talk with Mark.

Clearing her mind of nevertheless pleasant thoughts, Kris knocked on the door, and walked inside the man's office when he called, glancing up at her as she saluted him.

"At ease. Private Thompson, what can I do for you?" he asked, and she grinned.

"Sir, I have something I need to talk to you about," she said, and he nodded.

"Go ahead," he prompted, motioning for her to sit down, as he put his pencil down, the papers in front of him forgotten as he prepared to listen to the recruit.

"Do you remember the last time I told you that, sir?" The man frowned, not sure where the sudden question had come from. "It was many years ago, my first year on base, and I said I'd only tell you what I had to say if you promised not to discharge me for it."

"What are you talking about?" Mark asked, confused. The woman hadn't even been enlisted for a year!

"That was when I came out to you; told you I was gay. I knew it put my career in jeopardy, but I had to tell you before the rumors reached the officers," Kris said. "Do you remember what you told me, Mark?"

The Captain got to his feet, as he remembered the woman who had held that confidential discussion with him, and became angry at the impostor who would play such a sick prank. He'd known the late Staff Sergeant for seventeen years, and they'd become close friends in that time - how dare this woman walk in his office and say such things about the personal life of a soldier she didn't even know!

And when did he tell her she could call him "Mark" ?

"I don't know who told you that about Staff Sergeant Kris Jones, Private, but…"

"You told me that, the way I worked, it wouldn't have mattered to you if I was purple with contagious yellow spots, you'd have kept me on base," the woman continued, as though she hadn't been interrupted. "I trusted you, and that was when we became friends.

"Mark, sit down before you bust something," she said to the man, whose face was turning an alarming shade of red. Numbly, Captain Bowman obeyed, and just stared at the soldier in front of him.

"Kris?" he asked, finally, and the woman nodded. "But, that's not possible…"

"It is," said Ryanne, coming into the office from her place just outside the door. "I didn't believe it either, Mark, but it's her."

"How…?" the man sputtered, and Kris grinned.

"I had amnesia," she sighed. "Couldn't remember anything, re-enlisted, saw Cassidy, remembered everything, and that's about the size of it."

The Captain was silent for a moment, before breaking out into a large grin, and coming out from behind his desk to give the woman a strong hug. "You're alive!" he said, and Kris laughed, lightly.

"I couldn't let Ryanne cut your head off, now, could I?"

"Do you want to be promoted up to your old rank?" asked Mark, and Kris nodded. "Let me fill out the paper work, and figure out what needs to be done, okay? You're welcome to move into your old quarters, however; no one's using them," he added, finding the spare key and giving it to her, and the solder smiled.

"Thanks, Mark," she said, shaking his hand before walking out the door with Ryanne. "Well, that went well," she sighed, happily, and Ryanne laughed.

"I think you scared him there for a minute," the blonde said, and Kris shrugged.

"Time to go get my things!" she exclaimed, as Ryanne walked along beside her, following her to "Private Thompson's" quarters, where she'd help Kris transfer her things to "Staff Sergeant Kris Jones'" room.

Walking through the quad area, Ryanne stopped dead in her tracks, staring at a figure that was coming steadily nearer. The woman's green eyes widened in disbelief, and Kris frowned, trying to figure out what the blonde was looking at that had her so upset.

Ryanne groaned as the brunette came closer. The woman wore short shorts, sandals, and a halter top that showed plenty of cleavage. Her dark green eyes brightened upon seeing the small blonde, and her curly hair bounced across her shoulders as she quickened her pace.

"This can't be happening," Ryanne muttered, and Kris raised an eyebrow at her.

"Ryanne!" the woman exclaimed, giving her a quick hug. It did not go unnoticed by the tall soldier that she kept her arm around the blonde's shoulders.

"Ryanne, who is this?" asked Kris.

"Kris, this is Desiree," introduced the uncomfortable woman, and the thin woman named Desiree interrupted her before she could finish.

"Current lover," she said, with a wink, extending her manicured hand to the tall soldier. "And you are…?"

Kris smiled, wryly. "Nobody," she replied, walking away before Desiree could see the stricken look cross her face.

"Kris!" Flinging Desiree's arm from her body, Ryanne hurried to follow her. "Kris, wait. She's not -"

The soldier held up her hand, silencing the blonde. "I know how long I was away," she said, simply. "You thought I was gone - I don't blame you for moving on.

"I love you very much, Ryanne, but I think you need some time to work out a few things, before we can pick up where we left off before the war," she said, her blue eyes looking sad and hurt.

"I'll give you a week to think about what you want to do," she added. "I was planning on taking a small vacation, anyway." With that, she continued on her way to her former quarters to retrieve her belongings, while Ryanne stood there, dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events.

"Something wrong, babe?" asked Desiree, coming up behind the woman to slip her arms around Ryanne's waist.

Fiery green eyes were turned in her direction, and she involuntarily took a step back. "What the hell is your problem, Desiree?" Ryanne demanded, angry. "Why do you always have to act like we're together?"

"Come on, RC," protested the woman, weakly. "You know me - we've always done it. It's just a joke."

Ryanne sighed. "Not to her," she said, rubbing her eyes, tiredly, vainly trying to ward off the headache she felt coming on. "You don't understand, Desiree. Wait, what are you doing here in the first place?"

"My brother is a soldier," she explained. "I was going to go see him when I saw you. Guess I screwed up, huh?"

The blonde snorted. "That's putting it nicely. You may have just royally fucked up my relationship," she said, realizing that Kris had no reason to think Desiree was lying, or just having fun.

"Gee, I'm sorry," said the brunette, honestly. "I'll stay out of your hair from now on, hm?"

"Do that," spat Ryanne, spinning on her heel as she went to call a cab, figuring Kris wouldn't hand over her keys, and a truck ride home with the hurt soldier didn't sound all that exciting.

When Ryanne got home, she was surprised to see Kris' truck in the driveway. Hurrying inside, she stood in the doorway of their bedroom, her heart in her throat as she watched Kris pack her bags. When the tall woman turned to leave, she started for a moment, upon seeing Ryanne behind her.

"Don't," pleaded the small woman, trying to block the soldier's path, but Kris just sighed and walked past her. "Damn it, Kris, don't you walk away from me!" The tone of Ryanne's voice was enough to make the soldier stop in her tracks, just a few feet down the hall. "Please, don't leave us like this," Ryanne said.

Without turning around, Kris asked, evenly, "Why?"

Ryanne hesitated, and then answered, honestly, "Because I don't you to walk out of here, leaving me to wonder if you're ever coming back, or if I'll never see you again. Kris, I just got you back; I don't want to lose you to a stupid argument," she admitted.

Kris sighed, and slowly walked back over to the bed, dropping her duffel bag on the floor as she sat down and put her head in her hands. "I've got twenty minutes," she said. "Explain."

The blonde didn't delay. "Desiree and I were together for a few months in high school, but it didn't work out. I've run into her a few times since then, and she always acts like we're still a couple, even if both of us are with someone else. Today was the first time I've seen her in two years," she added. "We're not together."

"Then why was she at the base? She's obviously not a soldier," snorted the tall woman.

"Her brother is," responded Ryanne.

"So, you weren't with anyone else while I was gone?" Kris asked, after a period of silence.

"Of course not!" cried the blonde.

"And when you heard the news of my death?"

"Don't you understand?" demanded Ryanne. "There's no one else because I don't want anyone else, Kris. I love you."

Kris couldn't help it; after being gone for a year, half of that time spent "dead", she had trouble believing that the beautiful Ryanne had not found someone else to love. She had to ask.

"Promise?" The tall, strong soldier's normally rich voice was weak and scared, as she feared the possibly negative response.

The hollow and insecure look to Kris' deep blue eyes was enough to make Ryanne lose her breath. She suddenly realized that Kris doubted her faithfulness - and had every right. Not only had she lost her memory, the soldier hadn't seen her for a year, but when she did return, some woman claimed to be Ryanne's lover!

"Oh, Kris," she sighed, and sat down on the bed beside her. "I promise with all my heart. I understand why you would doubt it, and I can't tell you anything else but trust me. I have always and will always love you."

"Thank you," murmured Kris, pulling the woman into a fierce hug. "I'm just a little unsure of what to think right now. I love you, too." Glancing at her watch, she sighed. "I need to go; I've got some things I need to get done. I'll be back," she assured the blonde. "I'll call you tonight, okay?"

Ryanne nodded, and made sure to give Kris a quick kiss before she left.

Chapter Twenty

Kris sighed as she sat down in her seat, after stowing her duffel bag in the overhead compartment, and buckled her seat belt, as the captain reported they were ready to pull away from the gate soon.

"Is this seat taken?" asked an elderly man, startling the soldier from her thoughts of Ryanne, and she shook her head.

"No, sir," she said, respectfully, and he smiled as he took the seat next to her.

"Thank you," he said. "I almost didn't get on, because they said I was too late, but I told them I had an emergency to go home for, and they let me on."

"I hope everything's all right," said Kris, sympathetically.

The man nodded. "Thanks, again. I'm Cain Forester," he said, extending his hand, which Kris took, and thought back to her own father, lost just a year before.

"Kris Jones," she acknowledged.

"Something wrong?" he asked, noticing her absent stare.

The tall soldier shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "No, sorry. It's just you remind me of my dad."

Cain grinned, his gray eyes light, wrinkles forming around his mouth, familiarly, evidence to the fact that the man smiled a lot. "I hope that's a good thing," he joked.

Kris nodded. "Yes, sir," she affirmed, smiling a little.

"What branch of the services are you in?" asked the balding man, after a short silence during the plane's ascent into the clouds.

"How'd you know?"

"I haven't been called sir in a long time; since my days in Vietnam," he said. "So, you're either extremely polite, or enlisted."

"I'm a Staff Sergeant in the Army," said Kris, and the two spent the entire flight talking of military life, and war.

* * * * *

"You're kidding!" exclaimed the man, laughing.

"Nope," said Kris. "I swear to God - he slept on poison ivy, or something just like it. I had to order him to wear his gloves for a few days, before he scratched himself to infection," she added, wryly.

Cain chuckled. "Oh, Matt would love to hear that one," he commented.

"Is Matt your son?" Kris guessed, kindly.

The old man paused. "No," he said, "Matt is my partner. I came out to Colorado to visit some family, but I got a call yesterday saying his cancer was getting worse. That's why I'm flying home today," he said, and was met silence.

The quiet unnerved the man, and he hoped he hadn't just alienated the nice woman beside him by his slip of the tongue, but he relaxed when Kris said, "I hope he's all right. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you."

Cain breathed a sigh of relief, and agreed. "What about you? Got anyone waiting at home?" he asked, smoothly.

Kris bit her lip. "Well, I hope so," she said. "Home is back in Colorado, I've got to visit a few friends in Texas, but I hope with all my heart she'll be there when I get back. I'm still a little worried, though," she admitted.

"Everything will be okay," he assured her, patting her arm, gently.

Please, let everything be okay, pleaded Kris. She realized then she'd left their relationship hanging on a feeling she didn't like.

* * * * *

Kris sighed as her blue eyes scanned the houses for the number she was searching for. 1752 West Lauren Drive, Houston, Texas. That's the address she was given for one Henry Gregg. Pulling her rental car against the curb of the small gray two-story house, she walked up the driveway, admiring the lush green grass of the yard, and knocked on the front door.

A few moments later, a small woman with graying hair answered the door, and looked up into her face, wary brown eyes failing to recognize the woman.

"Can I help you?" she asked, politely.

"I'm looking for Henry Gregg," responded Kris.

"And you are…?"

"A friend," was her reply, not wanting to ruin the surprise, but not wanting to frighten the woman, presumably Mrs. Gregg, either.

"Mom, who's at the door?" came a voice, and a young boy limped down the stairs slowly, with the aid of a cane. Henry Gregg's jaw hit the ground when he saw who the visitor was, and was unable to stop the disbelieving smile that crossed his still youthful face.

"This lady says she knows you," Mrs. Gregg said, and Henry nodded.

"Yeah, it's all right, Ma," he said, kindly. "Why don't you go back in the living room, and I'll clean up the kitchen when I'm done here, okay?" She smiled up at him, and patted his cheek as she walked into the other room.

"Ma'am, what are you doing here?" he asked, opening the screen door. "I hope you don't mind if we talk outside, ma'am; my mother doesn't like to hear anything about the war," Henry said, and Kris agreed.

"No problem," she said, following him around the side of his house to the backyard, where two chairs were set up around a small table with an umbrella for shade.

"Last I heard, you were dead, ma'am," he said, sitting across from her. "I saw the bomb land!"

Kris grinned. "Well, I'm obviously not dead, but I did have amnesia for a few months," she said. "Just got home a few days ago, but figured I'd come say hi. You're looking pretty good on two legs, there," she added, and he smiled.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, lifting his right pant leg, and revealing a metal prosthetic leg, "this works pretty good. Doesn't hurt as much as it did when I first got it, and I can almost go without the cane, now," he said, proudly.

"You're doing well," she complimented, and smiled warmly at his mother as she walked out with a glass of lemonade for them both, before returning to the house, where she cleaned the kitchen for her son while he visited with his friend.

"This is quite a surprise, ma'am," he said, and Kris chuckled.

"Henry, if I can call you Henry, you can call me Kris," she said. "There's no rank between us anymore, okay?"

The boy nodded, brushing his blonde hair out of his eyes. "Okay," he sighed. "So, what brings you out to Texas?"

"You." Blue eyes widened as the boy nearly fell off his chair. His former commanding officer had come all the way from Colorado to Texas just to see him?! Wow. "I flew out here yesterday, and thought I'd see how you were doing. I go back in a week."

"How's Ryanne doing? Is she with you?" The boy craned his neck, as if searching for the woman he'd heard so much about.

Kris shook her head. "She's at home with Cassidy," said the tall woman. "She's in school now, and somebody has to be there to take care of her. Besides, we had a little disagreement, and I think we need some time apart," she added.

"But, Kris, you just got home!" protested Henry.

"I know, but I think we need this," she said. "I'm sure everything will be okay. Hey, do you remember that time York was convinced there was a vulture out to get him?"

Henry laughed, remembering the event, and not minding the not-so-subtle change in subject. "Yeah," he said, "we had to take his gun away for a while, before he made the damned things extinct, or wasted his bullets. How about when he thought there was a snake in his bag, but it was only the rag he used to clean his rifle?

"That boy was so gullible," the boy said. "I think we all had way too much fun scaring the crap out of him once or twice. He was a good soldier, though." They talked for over an hour, and the topic gradually moved from the amusing memories to the more serious ones.

Gregg brought up one event in particular, and Kris frowned.

"What? I don't remember that," she said, thinking hard to recall the scene, but finding nothing of the sort in her memory.

Henry glared at her. "What? What do you mean, you don't remember? How can you fucking forget that? You pulled the goddamned trigger!" he exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the table. "How can you forget the look on -"

"Look, I just don't remember, all right?" Kris interrupted his tirade. "Maybe some things are still a little fuzzy. With my luck, I'll remember it," she mumbled. "Listen, I don't have too much time over here. Do you think we could go see your brother?"

With a sigh, the boy nodded, and climbed in the car next to his former commanding officer, directing her as she drove down the small town roads. Side by side, both limping a little, the two soldiers walked solemnly down the rows of marble stones, before Henry gestured that they were at his sibling's marker.

"Hey, Bradley," said Kris, kneeling before the headstone as Henry stood respectfully behind her. "See? Told you he was a good kid," she said, jerking her thumb in Henry's direction, as he bit his lip to fight back the tears. "As you can tell, he made it out okay, and so did I. You should have seen some of the things he did, Bradley. I think it would have amazed even you.

"But, maybe he got his determination from you," she continued. "I don't know if you realized it, but your "can-do" attitude is what helped keep the squad going. And you were right, we all made it home. And so did you - you're home, soldier. You served well, and I am proud to have known you. Rest, now," she said, standing to salute her fallen comrade, clapping Henry on the shoulder as the walked solemnly back to the car.

After dropping the boy off at his house, Kris drove around until she found a decent motel at a good price, and made arrangements to stay there for the night, since her next day's travel would take her too far from her current location to warrant staying an extra night at the same inn.

Kris grabbed the phone as she kicked off her shoes, and sat down on the large queen-size bed, pleased with the immaculate condition of the room. Dialing the number quickly, she grinned at the soft voice that answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Cassidy," she said, but the girl was strangely silent, handing the phone abruptly to her mother, the small girl's anger transferring through the phone lines.

"What was that all about?" asked Kris, when Ryanne came on the line, the soldier's smooth voice betraying the hurt and surprise that remained from the cold treatment.

"She's upset that you left without saying goodbye," the blonde explained. "I tried to tell her you weren't expecting to leave so suddenly, but she just said she at least wanted a note."

"But, surely she knows I love her!" the soldier protested.

"Kris," sighed Ryanne, "you're not even home for two full days, after being gone for a year, and then, when we finally have you back, you leave for a week without saying a single word to her."

"Oh. I see," said the soldier. "Well, listen, I'll come home tomorrow, okay? It's not really a big deal to change my ticket. And then I'll make it up to her. And you," she added, softly.

"I thought you had something more important to do," said the blonde, curtly.

Kris winced. "Important? Sure," she acknowledged. "More important? Never. Look, I really shouldn't have left like that, and I'm sorry. I guess I'm still having a hard time believing that you'd stay with someone like me, when you could have anyone."

There was silence on the line for a moment, that lasted too long for Kris' comfort. "So, what we shared last night did nothing to change your mind? What, did you think I just wanted to get a good lay from you while I got some on the side?" Ryanne demanded.

"Now, I didn't say that," began Kris, haltingly, trying to recover from the stinging accusation.

"But you meant it," spat Ryanne, angrily. "Look, I really don't want to have this conversation over the phone. If we're going to fight, let's do it in person, and get it over with. Come home if you want to, or don't," the blonde finished, and Kris held the phone numbly, even as the dial tone sounded in her ear.

Just as she replaced the phone on its base, it rang, and she picked it up, hoping that somehow Ryanne had called her back, so they could talk, and resolve the problem.

"Hello?" she greeted, praying to hear the voice of the small blonde she loved.

"Do you have enough towels, ma'am?" came the voice.

"What?" she asked, startled.

"Is everything okay with the room? Do you need anything?" asked the man from the front desk, calling to check on her satisfaction.

"No, it's fine," she said, and replaced the receiver, somberly. After twenty minutes passed with a silent phone, Kris gave up hoping that Ryanne would try to reconcile their argument anytime in the immediate future.

"When did I screw it up?" she asked herself, aloud. "When I lost faith in her feelings again," she answered, sadly. "Fuck, I can't believe I did that. I know she loves me, she told me, and she even forgave me for doubting her. But, will she do it again?" Not liking the response that was on the tip of her tongue, the tall woman crawled under the covers of the motel bed, wondering if she'd have someone to go home to the next day; and praying that, for once, what her heart was telling her was wrong.

* * * * *

The following afternoon found Kris driving her truck home from the airport, having changed her ticket as she'd said. She'd wanted to spend a little more time with Henry and the other men, but instead was coaching herself on how to grovel.

"I've got to go in there, tell her how much I love her, and beg her not to leave," she said. "If she's even there," the soldier sighed, and fell silent. Her worst fear, the one thing that was tying her stomach in knots, was that the small blonde would be gone from her life forever.

Gathering her courage, the tall soldier set her duffel bag by the front door as she walked in, and found her nightmare transformed into a painful reality. With a pack slung over her shoulder, Ryanne was walking down the hall - she was leaving!

Blue eyes wide, Kris took the startled woman by the arm, drug her into their bedroom, and closed the door behind them.

"What are you doing?" asked Ryanne, slightly annoyed.

"We need to talk," pleaded Kris.

"Okay…" drawled the blonde. "Well, I'm a little busy right now, but once I get this done, we can discuss this."

Turning to leave, the woman was surprised when Kris spun her back around, and dropped to one knee before her, taking the delicate hands in her own larger ones.

"Ryanne, please," the soldier begged. "I love you with all my heart, honey. I'm sorry I acted like such a jerk - I shouldn't have doubted your feelings for me. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, sweetheart. Please, don't leave me," Kris finished, her voice hoarse as a tear made its way down her chiseled cheek.

A fair eyebrow raised at her antics. "Kris, I'm not going anywhere," said Ryanne, to the woman's relief. "Cassidy's going to spend the night at her friend's house - this is her bag. Now, if you'll let me go, I'll get her on her way, and then we can talk, okay?" she offered.

With a sheepish look on her face, Kris nodded, and released the blonde as she got to her feet. Sitting on the bed, she waited patiently for Ryanne to return.

"Cassidy, your ride is here!" called the blonde, hearing the horn honk, and the girl ran out of her room, hugging her mother tightly, before flying into the bedroom to give Kris a quick hug, a small child's grudges being about as long as a goldfish's memory. Then, completely oblivious to the tension between the two women she was leaving behind, she grabbed her backpack as she rushed out the door.

"Now," said Ryanne, closing the bedroom door once more and sitting down beside the soldier, "do you want to tell me what's going on in that thick head of yours?"

"At this very moment? I'm thanking every higher power I can think of that you're not leaving me," Kris said. "I love you so much, Ryanne; you are just so amazing, I've stopped trying to figure out how you can be so forgiving. I know I probably wouldn't have forgiven me, had the tables been reversed," she admitted.

Ryanne sighed. "Kris, I understand why you asked me the first time - you were scared," she said. "You had every right to doubt my feelings, then, and that's why I forgave you. But when you asked me again, even after I had promised, it was like you didn't trust me. And that hurt," the blonde said, gently. "Why did you even ask me in the first place? Well, besides the obvious help from Desiree, what made you feel the need to question my love for you?"

Kris took time to think about her response, wanting to be truthful to both Ryanne, and herself. "I just had a hard time believing that someone like you wouldn't have found someone else to love," she said. "I mean, think about it, Ryanne. You're the most beautiful, smart, caring, funny, loving person I've ever known. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I found it hard to imagine that you hadn't found someone else to give that love to," the woman explained.

Ryanne glanced over at the woman, and gave her a hard look. "Did you think I stopped loving you when you walked out that door to fight a war? Or when you boarded that plane to some godforsaken country a million miles away?" she asked. "Did you think I loved you any less when I thought you were gone from my life forever?

"Kris, as far as I knew, you were dead," Ryanne continued. "You had died standing up for what you believed in, for fighting for you country. Did you think I stopped loving you just for being you? No; I loved you even more.

"And then, when I didn't think I could fit any more devotion into my heart, I found out you were alive and you came home - and I proved myself wrong. I care for you more than I thought could ever be possible.

"So, if you think for one minute that I could ever find someone else to love, or to share my life with, you're got another thing coming." Having finished her fervent speech, the small blonde fell quiet, awaiting the tall soldier's response, which was a while in coming because the woman had to wipe the tears from her eyes before she could say anything.

And even when the soldier was able to speak, she chose not to. Pulling the smaller woman tightly against her, Kris wept into her shoulder, mumbling various incoherent strings of phrases. Ryanne was able to catch an occasional "I love you", or "I'm so sorry", as she stroked the dark tresses under her fingers.

Slowly, Kris raised her head, meeting Ryanne's tender gaze. "Our first fight," she said, weakly.

"Yeah," agreed the blonde, lovingly brushing away Kris' tears with her thumb. "Let's not do it again any time soon, hm?"

Kris grinned. "Deal," she said. Sighing contentedly, the tall soldier snuggled closer, as Ryanne turned in her hold, and they rested together as the moon smiled down upon the entangle lovers. Feeling almost giddily happy, the soldier resigned herself to sleep…

The tall woman soldier crept through the darkness, every crunch of the gravel sounding like an explosion under her feet. Motioning with her hand, she gestured her men forward, and, in groups of three, they moved in on the small campground. An old abandoned building, windows long gone, bullet holes in the walls, only three of the four barriers left standing.

In the pale moonlight, the woman could make out the door, and sidled along the outside of the building, being as quiet as possible. The moonbeams fell upon her face, illuminating the sharp features, making her blue eyes glow, and bathing the soldier in the light.

Readying her M-16 semiautomatic rifle, she rounded the corner, dropping the barrel of the gun down as she turned…

Kris awoke with a start, and bolted up in bed. Her breathing was fast, and shallow, her heart was racing, and she was covered in a cold sweat. The only thing she was missing was the bloodcurdling scream. Which wouldn't come, for she had long ago willed herself not to cry out after a nightmare.

The tall woman remembered nothing of her now fading dream, but knew it must have been terrible - she had managed to forgo the tortures of a bad dream since she'd regained her memory. Why were they starting again?

Glancing down, Kris was glad she hadn't bothered Ryanne, as it was scarcely 2:00 in the morning, and slowly eased back under the covers. With a sigh, she lay awake for a long while, before sleep came and took her away again.

* * * * *

The morning brought bloodshot blue eyes fluttering open, and Kris groaned. She'd gotten all of two hours sleep, and the Captain wanted her to…

Wait a minute, she thought. I've got a week's leave. He's not expecting me back until this weekend. I can sleep in! Sighing in relief, she closed her eyes again, and resigned herself to a quiet day of peaceful relaxation with Ryanne, until Cassidy came home from school in the afternoon.

But she couldn't fall asleep. Sleep meant dreams, and dreams meant nightmares. Nightmares that seemed too much like a memory for the soldier's comfort. She knew there was more to her nightmare, but she didn't want to find out.

Realizing a peaceful sleep was nearly impossible, the tall woman climbed out of bed, kissed the slumbering blonde gently on the forehead, and walked outside to spend time with her mare.

"Hi, girl," said Kris, and Wind Dancer snorted her own greeting. "Did you have a good night?" The horse nodded, tossing her strong head in response.

"Well, I didn't," she sighed, taking a brush and beginning to groom the Palomino. "Haven't had a nightmare in a while, but I did last night. It was one of the war - a bad one. I didn't finish it, but it came back every time I tried to go back to sleep," she confessed.

Wind Dancer whinnied her sympathies, and Kris patted her neck, before lifting a hoof to give it a good cleaning, as she did at least once a week, and more often if she was going to ride her.

By the time she was finished, she began to wonder if maybe she was dreaming about the war because some part of her felt she hadn't resolved everything yet - she decided to go see the family of Robert Thompson. Leaving a note on the kitchen table for Ryanne, she showered and dressed in a hurry, and then jumped in her truck, heading for the Thompson residence with a heavy feeling in her stomach.

* * * * *

"Mr. Thompson?" she greeted, when the man opened the door.

"Yes…" he drawled, not recognizing the tall woman that stood before him. He had been on his way to work when the doorbell rang, and wondered who would be visiting before eight in the morning.

"My name is Kris Jones, and…"

The man's brown eyes narrowed as he recalled the name. Nearly two inches shorter than the woman, he nevertheless glared at her, and stepped forward until she was forced to take a step back.

"I know who you are," he growled, the business-like suit doing nothing to calm his appearance as he advanced on the soldier. "My son wrote us letters home, telling us how good of an officer you were," David Thompson continued. "Some officer, letting my son die like that!"

Kris swallowed her tears at the accusation. "Mr. Thompson, I assure you, I did everything in my power to save your son," she said. "He was one of my best soldiers; I would've given my own life, and I'll do it right now, but the only reason I don't is because I know it won't bring him back. If I knew there was even the remotest possibility of trading my life for his, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

"It was war, Mr. Thompson; you can't choose who lives and who dies. If I could, believe me, Robert would be here with you right now; and so would every other American soldier who gave their life out there," she concluded, meeting the man's gaze.

David was quiet for a moment, and then looked down. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have attacked you like that. Please, come in." Gesturing her inside, he figured work could wait, if this woman could tell him any news about his son's death, and the things he was sure Robert had left out of his letters.

It was almost three hours later before Kris left, and she felt a lot better, having given the Thompson's her condolences in person, and clearing up the small mystery concerning their son's untimely passing. Checking her watch, she guessed that Ryanne was only now getting up, having had the chance to sleep in, and made sure she entered the house quietly.

Sneaking through the hallway, she grinned to herself when she saw the small blonde standing by the closet, trying to decide what to wear, with only a towel wrapped around herself. Stepping into the room, she silently crept up behind the woman, and slipped her arms around the delicate waist, eliciting a tiny gasp from Ryanne.

"You scared me!" she complained, turning around, relieved to see Kris standing behind her. "What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?"

"Just wanted to say good morning," the soldier pouted, kissing Ryanne gently on the forehead.

"How did your visit with the Thompsons go?" she asked, and Kris smiled.

"Very well, after a rough beginning," she said, and Ryanne returned the smile, glad everything had gone okay. She'd worried, fearing that perhaps Robert's parents would be angry, but now felt better for the tall soldier.

"What do you say to a long day of vegging out in front of the TV together?" Ryanne offered, and Kris pretended to think about it, seriously.

"Hm," she sighed. "Well, I was thinking of something more along the lines of relaxing in bed all day. With you, of course," she added, smirking at the sullen look that crossed the blonde's face.

"Oh, well, why didn't you say so?"

Kris raised an eyebrow at her, and deftly un-tucked the corner of the towel that kept it from falling, watching as it dropped to the floor. "I did," she stated, scooping Ryanne up into her arms, planning on starting the day off right.

Chapter Twenty-One

The week passed by slowly for the soldier, who began to get less and less sleep each night. Every time the sun set, her stomach tied itself in knots, preparing for the torture she knew was to come. Without fail, she fell asleep at some point, and relived a little bit more of her nightmare.

On Wednesday, the day of her visit with Robert's parents, she woke up in a cold sweat, just before she could clear the second room of the building. By Thursday night, she knew there was someone there when she turned, and on Friday night, she watched herself pull the trigger.

Each day that followed a night without sleep, only made the soldier more restless and more irritable. The woman thought Ryanne was becoming worried, but the blonde hadn't said anything, so Kris chalked it up to imagination.

But Friday… Friday, the tall woman was unable to wake up before she came to the horrible conclusion of her night terror…

The tall woman soldier crept through the darkness, every crunch of the gravel sounding like an explosion under her feet. Motioning with her hand, she gestured her men forward, and, in groups of three, they moved in on the small campground. An old abandoned building, windows long gone, bullet holes in the walls, only three of the four barriers left standing.

In the pale moonlight, the woman could make out the door, and sidled along the outside of the building, being as quiet as possible. The moonbeams fell upon her face, illuminating the sharp features, making her blue eyes glow, and bathing the soldier in the light.

Readying her M-16 semiautomatic rifle, she rounded the corner, dropping the butt of the rifle so it was flush against her shoulder as she turned, quickly scanning the room for any occupants. The barrel of her gun followed the soldier's piercing blue eyes, in case she had to make a quick shot.

Keeping her right hand near the trigger well, she motioned the men forward with her left, never losing sight of the space in the cross-hairs of her weapon. Once again moving in groups, they secured the room, Henry Gregg being able to participate by crawling along on his stomach, acting like more of a sniper, and Kris moved ahead of them, silently. All wore night-vision goggles, but the green scenes revealed poor detail.

Taking a deep breath, she slid along the wall, moving towards the next corner with ease. Readying her weapon, the female soldier turned past the barrier, shouldering her weapon as she did so. Blue eyes narrowed when she saw a form in the center of the large room, and she placed the person, as it was, in her sights. When she saw the gun being raised in her direction, she reacted without thinking, and pulled the trigger.

The shot that rang out was deafening, and it echoed throughout the dilapidated building, the kick of the weapon also causing Kris to grit her teeth as it jarred her shoulder. Instantly, the soldiers under her command flooded the room, and secured the rest of the room, as well as the small back rooms that completed the shelter. That done, with no further incidents, the returned to their commanding officer, who was slowly approaching the still figure on the ground.

"Holy shit," swore Parker, as the beams from his flashlight illuminated the victim of the Staff Sergeant's weapon. The small girl couldn't have been more than eight years old, with shoulder-length hair, and eyes that were already beginning to glaze over, despite the fact that she was taking ragged breaths. Clutched in one hand was the gun that Kris had fired upon, and in the other, a delicate homemade teddy bear.

"I… I think she's saying some sort of prayer, ma'am," whispered Henry.

"Fuck," was the only word Kris uttered, upon realizing the child was still alive… But no longer. Knowing she'd regret it later, but also knowing she couldn't break down in front of her men, the tall soldier trailed her eyes across the body, the large hole in the girl's chest leaving no room for doubt as to the cause of death. The scan continued, and Kris' breath caught in her throat; with the expression of fear forever upon her face, the little girl lay dead by her own hand.

And the features of her beloved Cassidy stared back at her…

The woman awoke with a start, her heart pounding like it would explode from her chest, cold sweat covering her bronzed skin in a sheen of moisture. Slowly pulling back the covers, she was careful not to wake Ryanne, and softly padded down the hallway, stopping just a few doors down and peeking in to check on Cassidy.

She let out a sigh of relief when the young girl was found to be sleeping soundly, a small rabbit tucked under her arm, an old torn Army jacket covering her shoulders, and an expression of pure peace on her angelic face. Kris relaxed, and just leaned against the door jam, watching her daughter sleep for a few moments.

When she was feeling a little better, she tiptoed back to her room, and crawled back into bed, silently.

"That's the third time this week," came a soft voice, nearly making her jump out of her skin.

"Huh?"

"That's the third time you've had a nightmare this week," said Ryanne, rolling over to fix the soldier with her worried gaze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," said Kris, quietly.

Ryanne paused. "Do you want to talk about it? Maybe it'd help," she suggested.

The woman shook her head. "No, I can't really remember it," she lied. "Thanks, though. I'll see you in the morning," she said, kissing the blonde softly, before curling up against her and pretending to sleep.

* * * * *

The next morning, Ryanne awoke to the sunlight on her face, and was surprised to find Kris still asleep. Glancing over at the clock, she saw it was only seven in the morning, and decided to let the soldier sleep in, knowing she'd had a long night. The small blonde was concerned about the woman she loved, but hoped a good long rest might do some good.

With a sigh, she fell back asleep, thanking God it was Saturday, so Cassidy could entertain herself with cartoons, and she didn't have to worry about getting the girl to school on time.

A while later, Kris began to stir, and blue eyes fluttered open. Stretching as she looked at the clock, she leapt out of bed when the digits read 9:16.

"Kris?" mumbled a sleepy blonde.

"It's all right, honey," she said. "I just slept in."

Ryanne frowned. "But, it's Saturday."

"I know," growled Kris, as she tossed off her sleep wear and rooted through her closet for her cleanest set of camouflage. "The Captain wanted to see me about something, maybe my reinstatement, and I was supposed to be there at eight. Damn," she swore, grabbing her boots and throwing them on.

"I'm sorry, Ryanne," she sighed. "I'll be at the base if you need me, okay? I might hang out for a while, and see what's going on. Love you," she added, giving the blonde a quick kiss as she laced up her polished boots.

"Love you, too," echoed Ryanne. "Maybe Cassidy and I will stop by today."

"Okay," agreed Kris. "See you later." Giving Cassidy a kiss on the top of her head as she went out the door, the tall woman decided to brush her hair when she got on the base, and hurriedly sped down the road.

* * * * *

"Sorry I'm late, sir," she said, going directly to the Captain's office. The man looked her over, worried, and motioned for her to close the door as he invited her in.

"Rough night?" he asked, and the woman just shrugged, feeling uncomfortable that even her commanding officer noticed the circles under her eyes, at first glance.

"Well, this is what I did," he said, and explained the entire process he had gone through to reinstate her as a Staff Sergeant, from the first paper, to the last, and every signed document in between.

"Thanks, Mark," she said, when he was done nearly an hour later, shaking his hand. "I really appreciate all the trouble you went through."

"Just glad to have you back," he said, kindly, but wouldn't let her leave just yet. "So, tell me, how'd you enjoy your vacation?" With a sigh, Kris resigned herself to a long conversation with her friend, who insisted on knowing every detail, and then the history of Henry Gregg and his brother.

As the soldier walked out of the Captain's office almost an hour and a half later, and wandered around the compound, she was about to head home, when her ears picked up a familiar voice.

"Is that real?" asked Cassidy, to a passing soldier.

"Sure is," smiled the young man, kneeling down next to the youngster, showing her the rifle he held in his hand, only after quickly removing the clip. Everyone on base knew of the child, and liked her, so he figured he was just being polite, and allowing the small girl to satisfy her curiosity.

It was for that reason he was extremely startled when he felt a hand grab him by the back of his collar, and drag him to his feet.

"You keep that goddamned gun away from her, do you understand me, soldier?" hissed the Staff Sergeant, and the man gulped at the fiery blue gaze.

"B-but, ma'am, it's not loaded!" he protested.

"Do I look like I care?" snarled Kris. "If I ever see you, or anyone else for that matter, come anywhere near Cassidy with a gun, even if it's fucking disassembled, I will kick your sorry ass all the way into next week, is that understood?" she demanded, and the man nodded, running when his feet hit the ground.

Turning to face her daughter, the tall woman crouched down, and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Cassidy," she began, "guns are very dangerous, okay? I don't want to see you around them. If you see someone with a gun, and you don't know them or you're scared, I want you to run away from there as fast as you can, all right?"

The girl nodded - she knew she wasn't supposed to touch guns, but she figured if the adults had them, the least she could do was look at them, safely, as long as she really didn't touch them.

Despite the agreement from the child, Kris wasn't finished yet. In her nightmare, Cassidy had been killed by a gun; she was going to make sure that never happened. "Guns hurt people, very badly. They are not toys, do you understand?"

"Momma," cried Cassidy, squirming in the suddenly firm hold on her arms, "you're hurting me!"

Kris released her hands in an instant. "Oh, Cassidy," she said, tears coming to her eyes as she realized she had been so worried about making sure Cassidy stayed away from guns she didn't notice her grip on the young child becoming stronger. Pulling the girl to her, she hugged her tightly, saying, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to hurt you. Momma never, ever wants to hurt you, okay? I promise. God, I'm so sorry," as the tears soaked into the small T-shirt Cassidy wore.

"It's okay, Momma," said the girl, squeezing the woman tightly around the neck, trying to make her feel better, not understanding why she was crying into her shoulder.

Just a few yards away, a pair of worried green eyes narrowed as Ryanne watched the scene unfold. Something was very wrong with her soldier. And she was going to find out what it was. Soon.

* * * * *

"I'm home," Kris called, as she walked through the door. She knew Ryanne had been at the base, since she'd seen Cassidy, but had missed talking to the blonde. The soldier figured the two were home, since it had taken a long while to regain her composure since her encounter with the girl. Nearly an hour had passed before the tall woman felt she was steady enough to leave on her own two feet, having washed all traces of tears from her face.

As the tall soldier went through the house, she entered the kitchen, and saw Ryanne sitting at the table. Any thoughts of giving the woman a kiss faded from Kris' mind when she saw the look on the blonde's face.

"Ryanne? What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"Sit down," said Ryanne, tonelessly, and Kris obeyed, swallowing hard. "Kris, Cassidy has marks on her arms, like someone grabbed her." The tall woman hung her head, and said nothing. "You wanna tell me about it?"

"What do you mean?" Kris asked, blue eyes flashing.

"Kris, I saw you," the blonde said. "I saw the way you reacted to that soldier, and I saw what you did to Cassidy."

"What, are you spying on me, now?" the soldier demanded.

"No, I'm just worried about you, honey," explained Ryanne, gently.

"I'm fine," was the terse reply.

"No, you're not. Kris, you haven't been sleeping well, and the nightmares…"

Kris stood up, angrily. "Look, just leave me the hell alone, all right? I said I was fine. Stop bothering me."

"No," said Ryanne, grabbing the woman's arm as she tried to leave. "You left marks on my daughter's arms, and you want to tell me you're fine? I don't think so. Something's wrong, Kris," she continued, her voice softening a little. "Maybe you just need to talk to someone; I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong."

"I don't need your goddamn help," spat Kris, her sapphire eyes blazing. "Just stay the fuck away from me, okay? And let go of me."

"Talk to me," pleaded Ryanne, glad Cassidy was outside playing with Wind Dancer, so she didn't have to hear the argument.

"Leave. Me. Alone," growled the soldier, ripping her arm from Ryanne's grip, connecting the back of her hand with the side of the small blonde's face in the process. Ryanne took a few steps back, tasting the metallic flavor of blood in her mouth, as Kris stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

"What's happening to you?" the woman whispered, wandering over to the kitchen sink to rinse out her mouth, as the taillights of Kris' truck vanished into the night.

* * * * *

"Just go in there, and apologize for being an ass," Kris coached herself. Damn, how many times have I had this conversation with myself? I've been screwing up too often. With a shaking breath, she stepped out of her truck, four hours after speeding away in a cloud of dust. "If she'll ever forgive me - dear God, I hit her!"

Upon entering the house, she followed the voices she heard, and stood hidden behind the wall next to the living room.

"…and then the mood swings, and now this," Ryanne was saying, as she laid on the couch next to her friend Barry, and adjusted the ice pack on her swollen lip.

The man sighed. "I don't know, RC," he admitted. "You say you don't know what's bothering her?" Ryanne shook her head. "Well, maybe she'll come around. Just give her a little time." Although the only thing Barry wanted to do was beat the crap out of the tall woman for striking his friend, he tried to be supportive, knowing how caring his best friend was.

"I'm just scared, Bear," confessed the woman.

That did it. Kris felt the tears well up in her eyes before she could stop them. The words were like a blow in the chest - Ryanne was afraid of her! What was worse, was she had every right to be.

Stepping into view, she raised an eyebrow at Barry as he stood in such a way so as to protect Ryanne from the tall soldier.

"I know you could throw me across this room in the blink of an eye," he said, "but better me than her."

"Barry," sighed Ryanne, moving him aside as she sat up, knowing the statement hurt Kris by the tensing in her jaw.

Kris bit her lip to keep the tears at bay so she could speak. "I'm sorry, Ryanne," she began, her facade crumbling as clear droplets of pain made their way, unbidden, down her chiseled cheek. "I swear, I never meant to hurt you or Cassidy. I love you, sweetheart, and I am so sorry for the things I said. I didn't mean it - I know you just want to help me. I don't even know what's wrong with me," she admitted.

"I'll talk to Mark tomorrow and have him recommend someone, so I can get some help, okay? I'll stay away from Cassidy, if you want… or, I'll sleep on the couch until this is over… or…"

Aware that the woman was rambling, Ryanne opened her arms, and said, lovingly, "Come 'ere."

The soldier needed no further encouragement, as she flew to the woman's side, kneeling in front of her and sobbing into her lap. Glancing up with bloodshot eyes, she traced the light bruise that was a painful reminder of her anger.

"God, I did that to you," she whispered, as her fingers touched the welt. "Why… how can you forgive me? I don't think I'll ever forgive myself. Ryanne, you have every right to be afraid of me…" Kris said, quietly.

Green eyes widened. "Oh, honey, I'm not afraid of you," she corrected. "I'm afraid for you. I don't know what's wrong; all I know is that you're hurting, and there's nothing I can do to help. That scares me," the blonde said, tugging the woman up onto the couch next to her, cradling the dark head on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms securely around the tall woman.

Kris sighed, and gently kissed the soft lips before her, pulling back lest she take a chance of aggravating the dark weal.

"Thanks for coming down, Barry," said Ryanne, upon remembering they weren't alone, and the man nodded.

"Not a problem," he assured his friend. "And you," he continued, pointing an accusing finger at Kris, "if you ever hit her again…"

Kris hung her head. "I won't," she whispered. "So help me God, I'll never do that again." Ryanne saw the tears, and gently squeezed her arm, telling the tall woman she'd forgiven her. "But, thank you, Barry, for being here for her when I wasn't."

The man sighed. "I know you love her, Kris. Just don't either of you forget it, okay?" When the women nodded, he grinned, and kissed Ryanne's cheek before he left.

"I'm so sorry, baby," said the soldier, hugging Ryanne tightly.

"I know, honey. We'll get through this together, okay?" she asked, and Kris agreed. As the two walked down the hall, Kris glanced wistfully at Cassidy's empty bedroom, Ryanne having sent her to stay with the Captain for a few days, until she was sure the girl could be in the house without witnessing an argument. "She's already forgiven you, Kris, and so have I. Come on, let's get some rest.

"And this time," she said, climbing under the blankets, "you wake me if you have a nightmare, so we can talk about it, okay? I think it'll help." With a heavy sigh, the solder nodded, and scooted closer to the small blonde, wrapping her arms around her as she tried to go to sleep.

~ Sergeant of the Heart ~

by C. E. Gray

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Disclaimer: This is an Uber story, so the characters are mine, and the plot. If you wanna borrow anything, ask first. J All work is copyrighted once you submit it on the internet, but for argument's sake, this work is Copyrighted © by C. E. Gray, 2001

Violence/Language Disclaimer: Yep, definite violence in here. There's a soldier in here with one heck of a temper if you tick her off. She's not afraid of four-letter words, either.

Sexual Disclaimer: Sure! Oh, I mean, yeah, it's in here. Not real graphic, but you get the idea. This does involve the idea (heck it revolves around the idea) that two women are in love, and express that love when given the chance. If this bothers you, I suggest you click back, and find something else to read - it's a big Xenaverse out there, folks.

Last Disclaimer: I have tried to make sure most of the scenes in this story are close to being reasonably realistic. However, to the thanks of my muse, I have brought my creative license into use a time or two.

Notes of Thanks: I'd like to thank my beta-reader and best friend, Amber, for putting up with me through all of this. Also, everyone who's given me responses about Taken, my first attempt at Uber fan fiction - I only know how I'm doing if I get feedback. Another thank you to all those who helped me with the bugs in this thing - I think we got 'em all!

If you like the way it turned out, thank them. If you don't, blame the author. J

You can feed this bard at: Y02Mustang@AOL.com I guarantee a response.

Now, enough of the formal mumbo-jumbo. On with the show!

"Fool," said my muse to me, "look in thy heart and write."

- Sir Philip Sydney

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Part 5 (Conclusion)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Kris sighed as she brought in the morning watching the sun come up. The soldier hadn't slept all night, and the butterflies in her stomach had yet to rest, either. The nightmare had returned with a vengeance, seeming to go in slow motion and prolonging the soldier's torture.

True to her word, Kris reluctantly awoke Ryanne, but by the time the blonde was awake enough to listen and Kris was calm enough to talk, the dark images had faded from her mind. The terror was there, but Kris was unable to bring the bloody picture to the surface.

"Do you remember anything?" asked Ryanne, and Kris shook her head.

"Just the fear," she whispered, knowing the small woman was the only one she'd ever let know her deepest feelings, and not have to worry about being "kicked while she was down".

The blonde pulled the woman into her arms, and simply held her close until they both fell asleep again.

But Kris wasn't asleep for long. Deciding not to wake Ryanne this time, the soldier knew any hope for rest was futile. Giving in to her growing apprehension, Kris stared at the ceiling and fiddled with a corner of the blanket until dawn, when Ryanne awoke.

"Have you been up all night?" the blonde asked.

Kris nodded. "I can't go to sleep, Ryanne, I'm too nervous," she admitted. "I'm worried about what Mark will say."

"You don't think he'll help you?" questioned Ryanne, quietly.

"I know he'll help, I just don't know what he'll think if I tell him I need to see a psychiatrist."

Ryanne leaned over and gave the soldier a reassuring hug. "Kris, there's nothing to worry about - I'm sure Mark will understand," she soothed. Reluctantly, Kris agreed, and got up to take a shower.

* * * * *

"Kris, come in," greeted Mark, motioning the woman inside the office, slightly worried when she immediately sat down across from him, and Ryanne followed close behind, standing next to her.

"RC," he acknowledged, and she smiled. "What can I do for you ladies?"

Kris took a deep breath. "I…" she began.

"We," corrected Ryanne, taking the woman's hand.

"We need your help," said the soldier, and Mark was really concerned - what was going on for Kris to feel she not only needed his help, but couldn't do it without Ryanne backing her?

"Of course," he said, right away. "How can I help?"

"I, uh, I've been having these nightmares, but I can't remember what they're about," said Kris, lowly. "I think I need to see… someone."

Captain Bowman was kind and understanding. "I know a good psychiatrist - he's a friend of Beverly's. His name is Dr. Carl Haggis. I can make a few calls, and I'm sure he'll see you this afternoon," he offered, and saw the relief cross his friend's face.

"Thanks, Mark," said the woman, gratefully.

"Sure," he grinned. "Why don't you hang out here, and I'll see what I can do, all right?" Kris nodded, and the man left the room to make his calls, leaving Kris and Ryanne to entertain themselves in his office.

"Ryanne?" Kris asked, after a while of silence.

"Hm?" asked the blonde, absentmindedly rubbing Kris' shoulder.

"I just… I just wanted to say I'm really sorry for hurting you," murmured the soldier. "I never meant to, honest. And Cassidy, too."

Ryanne sighed. "Sweetheart, you've already apologized, and been forgiven," she pointed out, patiently. "I know you feel bad, and I know you didn't want to hurt me or Cassidy. But, you have to let it go, Kris," she said. "You can't keep kicking yourself for this - it's over and done with, and we've moved on."

Kris agreed, and then pulled Ryanne closer, gently pressing her head against the blonde's taut stomach, as careful fingers ran through her midnight hair.

"Are you nervous, honey?" questioned Ryanne, and Kris nodded. "I'll be right beside you, okay? I promise," she added, and Kris pulled back a little to look up at her.

"Thank you," she said, honestly, and Ryanne kissed her forehead, before Mark cleared his throat, announcing his presence.

"Looks like you have an appointment at his office in Houston in a little over an hour, at 11:30. Is that okay?" he asked, and both women nodded.

"Thanks again, Mark," smiled Ryanne, and the man returned the grin, before giving them both a hug, and wishing them the best of luck as they walked out the door. Calling them back to make them promise they'd call him with the latest information of what was going on, he finally let them go, and Ryanne took the keys from Kris, choosing to drive to Houston herself.

"I can drive, you know," said the soldier, sullenly climbing into the passenger side of her truck.

"Oh, I know you can," smiled Ryanne. "I just want you to try and get some rest, okay?" Shrugging, Kris was about to protest that she didn't need to rest, when a yawn sneaked up on her, and a fair eyebrow was raised from the woman across from her.

"Not a word," warned Kris, and the blonde hid her smile as she started the engine.

Ten minutes into the forty-minute drive, Kris was asleep with her head against the window, and Ryanne grinned. It was about time the soldier got some well deserved rest. Unfortunately, it didn't last very long, and the tall woman awoke with a start.

Ryanne reached over and squeezed her hand. "Everything okay?" she asked, softly.

Kris shook her head, and found her throat too dry to swallow, taking a sip from the small blonde's cup of water she had along with her. When she could feel Ryanne's green eyes boring a hole into her, she sighed.

"I had the nightmare again, and I know it was about the war, but that's it," she said, and Ryanne gave her hand a gentle squeeze as she pulled into the parking lot.

"Ryanne?" called the soldier, as they stepped out of the truck and began walking towards the building.

"What?"

"Thank you for being here with me," replied Kris, softly, revealing only to Ryanne just how scared she felt.

"Where you go, I go," responded the blonde, giving her soldier a quick hug before entering the office building of one Dr. Carl Haggis, and his partner, with a long name Kris didn't even want to attempt to pronounce.

The secretary told them to sign in, and that they could fill out a few papers to pass the expected ten minute wait. With Kris' help, Ryanne finished the forms, and returned them to the woman's desk just as she told them the doctor was ready for them.

"Is Ms. Jones the only patient?" the secretary questioned, and Ryanne nodded. "Then she's the only one I need in with the doctor."

"You don't understand," said Kris, placing her hand on Ryanne's shoulder. "Either she goes with me, or I don't go."

"It's all right, Helen," called a deep voice from just behind the door marked with the number one. "Let them both in." With a sigh, Helen opened the door for the two women, and then walked back to her desk to finish her work.

"Hi," greeted Carl, standing up to his full height of nearly 6'0'', coming even with Kris as he shook her hand, as well as Ryanne's. "You must be Kris and Ryanne; Mark told me you seemed to be having a little trouble sleeping," said Dr. Haggis, and Kris nodded, sitting down across from the man, as Ryanne sat next to her, and the doctor began his initial examination, to see what needed to be done.

"I think hypnosis is the best road," he said, after almost three quarters of an hour of questions and suggestibility tests. "You seem to be a good patient for it, and I'd like to see if could help you recall that nightmare, which I'd be willing to bet is just a memory. When did you say you started having nightmares?"

"Just a few weeks ago, when I returned from my trip to Texas," responded the soldier, feeling a little uptight still, but the nervousness had lessened in the past hour. Both because the doctor was kind and patient, and because he didn't seem to mind the supportive grip Ryanne had taken with her hand.

"Okay, let's begin…" said the man, and gently asked Ryanne to move to a separate chair, as he began his work on the tall woman in front of him.

"I want you to listen only to the sound of my voice," he said, evenly, when the woman was hypnotized a few minutes later. "When I ask you a question, I want you to answer me to the best of your ability, do you understand?"

"Yes," replied the woman.

"What is your name?" he asked first, to make sure she would answer him.

"Kris Jones."

He was constantly writing in his legal pad of paper as he spoke. "And what do you do?"

"I'm a soldier with the United States Army," was her reply.

"What rank?"

"Staff Sergeant."

Now it was time to get down to business. "Kris, I want you to think back to your time in Texas, just a few weeks ago," said Dr. Haggis. "Do you remember?"

"Yes," said the woman.

"Good. Listen only to my voice, Kris. Now, I want you to remember what you did there. Did you talk to anyone?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Henry Gregg."

Dr. Haggis made a note on his writing tablet as he spoke. "And who is Henry Gregg to you, Kris?" he asked.

"A soldier who was under my command after his commanding officer died," said Kris, evenly, thinking of the young man she'd come to know.

"What did you two talk about?"

"The war," was the simple answer.

"Did Henry ever say anything during your time in Texas that upset you?"

"Yes, once," replied the soldier.

"What did he say?" questioned Carl, keeping his deep voice even and smooth. He was used to asking simple questions, and, little by little, getting to the information he wanted. It was part of his job.

The woman clearly became agitated as she thought about it. "He asked me if I remembered… no, I didn't!" she cried.

"Just relax, Kris," said the man, soothingly. "It's all right, you're okay. Nothing bad will happen when you tell me what Henry said. It'll be okay. What did he tell you?"

"He asked me if I remembered the time we secured the abandoned building that the Vietnamese soldiers used for supplies," she recited.

"Good," said Carl, gently. "Now, I want you to remember farther back, before your time in Texas with Henry. I want you to remember your service in the war. Do you remember?"

"Yes."

"Think back to when you secured the abandoned building the Vietnamese soldiers used for supplies," he said, quoting the woman, making sure he wasn't suggesting any memories to the woman that didn't exist, as sometimes happened if the hypnotist asked leading questions.

"I remember," said the woman, swallowing hard.

"I want you to tell me exactly what you did to secure the building."

Kris sighed, and began her tale…

"We approached the building in formation," she said. "I went a few feet, and then motioned the guys ahead of me, and they moved forward in groups, like they'd been taught."

"Was it day or night?" Carl interrupted.

"Night."

The man continued writing. "Okay, continue," he prompted.

"We wore our night vision gear, and there was a little moonlight, but it was still hard to see very clearly. I entered the first room, and it was empty, so the guys filed in, and then lined up against the sides so I could go through," said Kris, the tensing of her jaw telling Ryanne she wasn't comfortable with the upcoming events to be told.

"I turned into the next room, with my rifle ready, as always. But this time, there was someone in the room with me," she said, her voice beginning to break. "I couldn't tell who it was, but I saw the person raise a gun at me, so I fired. The guys came in and secured the rest of the building, and when they came back, they walked with me to see who had threatened to shoot me," she said.

"Parker put his light on the body, and…" the soldier swallowed, hard, and clenched her hands into fists.

"Just take it easy, Kris," said Dr. Haggis, gently. "It's okay; you can tell me."

"She was barefoot, with dark pants on. She had a gun in one hand, and a stuffed animal in the other. The shot I fired left a gaping hole in her chest, and she was almost dead. Gregg said the strange words she was muttering was some kind of prayer.

"I… I looked at her face, and… she was only a kid," said the woman, a tear making its way down her cheek. "She couldn't have been eight years old yet, and I watched her take her last breath, and die."

Seeing the tall woman in distress, Carl said, "All right, Kris. It's okay, now. When I count to three, you will awaken. One, two, three."

Blue eyes flew open, and Kris wiped at her face, glancing at the doctor and then over at Ryanne. Upon seeing the look on Ryanne's face, the tall soldier felt a rush of guilt as the memories of what she had done flooded her mind. With a strangled cry, she rushed from the office, slamming the door behind her.

* * * * *

Ryanne fought the urge to follow her, but decided to stay and listen to what the doctor had to say.

"That's horrible," she whispered.

Carl agreed. "I can see why it would affect her so," he nodded.

"But, that would be the cause of her nightmares. What's wrong with her; the mood swings, the constant sleeplessness…?" questioned the blonde, hurting for her soldier.

"I'd say she suffers from an acute case of PTSD, or post-traumatic-stress-disorder. By definition, PTSD needs to last at least a month, or it's just acute stress disorder," the man sighed. "However, since she's been suffering night terrors, which include flashbacks, and aggressive behavior, I think it's more than just stress.

"I'm going to prescribe a light sedative to help her sleep," he continued, "as well as a few counseling sessions. Try to help her maintain a positive attitude, and that will help as well. I think we're done here; thank you for coming," he said, handing Ryanne the slip of paper with the prescription, and standing as she walked to the door.

"Thank you, doctor," said the blonde, before hurrying out the door to search for the tall soldier.

* * * * *

Ryanne found the woman she was looking for; Kris was in a small side room, sitting in a wooden chair, facing the window, her back to the door. The blonde could almost feel the intensity of the soldier's heartache as it poured off of her in waves.

"Kris," spoke Ryanne, softly.

"What are you doing here?" asked Kris, her voice void of all emotion.

"I came to see if you were okay," said Ryanne, gently.

"Why do you care?"

Ryanne frowned. "What do you mean, why do I care? I love you, Kris. What kind of question is that?" she asked.

The soldier was quiet for a while, before asking, "How can you love me, after what I did?"

The blonde sighed. "Honey, no matter what you did, I could never stop loving you," she began, and had more to say, but the tall woman cut her off.

"Don't you get it?" demanded Kris, turning to face the small blonde, tears in her blue eyes, shimmering like crystal and falling like the Niagara. "I killed a little girl! She was the same age as Cassidy, and had a goddamned stuffed animal in her hand. I turned around, and she was there. I didn't even think, I just reacted, and I put a hole in her chest. She died because of me."

"Kris, she had a gun," said Ryanne. "You did what you had to, to save your life."

"But what if it had been Cassidy? God knows I'm a trained soldier - what if I do worse than I have already?"

The blonde tried to soothe the frantic woman. "I think now that we've gotten everything out, you'll be more like your old self," said Ryanne. "Besides, those were severe circumstances."

The tall soldier was silent for a moment. "The gun wasn't even loaded," she said, at last.

"What?" gasped Ryanne.

"I checked, after the guys filed out. The chamber was full of fucking blanks, Ryanne," spat Kris, upset. "I fired on a decoy. They sent her there, knowing full well she was going to die, and I pulled the goddamn trigger."

It was just some sick mind game, and I fell for it, she thought, sadly.

Watching the woman lose her composure, as Kris ran a shaky hand through her long hair, Ryanne said, "You know, I believe you were thinking about Cassidy when you fired that shot." Kris looked up, meeting Ryanne's eyes, the look of terror written all over her face. "You were thinking about whether or not you wanted to come home to her.

"Kris, you're the kind of person who doesn't let anything get in your way - you wouldn't let anyone keep you from coming home, from seeing Cassidy again. I think, deep down, you knew that this child was a potential threat to that, and you reacted like anyone in your place would have," concluded Ryanne.

"It doesn't change what I did."

Ryanne sighed. "No, it doesn't," she confirmed. "But, Kris, it was war; even you know you don't have much control over who lives and dies."

"Damn it, I should have thought about what I was doing!" the woman cried. "If I'd have just looked closer, maybe I would have seen she was a kid, or I could have shot to injure…"

"And what if she didn't have blanks, Kris?" questioned Ryanne. "What if she'd had real bullets, and you hadn't pulled that trigger right away? You'd be dead right now, because there's no way she would have hesitated to shoot you."

The soldier nodded. "Maybe it would've been better that way," she muttered, but Ryanne caught it.

"What do you mean?"

Kris sighed. "If I'd have died back there, that little girl would still be alive, we wouldn't have fought, I wouldn't have hit you, and… and I wouldn't have hurt Cassidy," she finished, quietly.

"Is that what this is all about, Kris?" Taking a place beside the tall soldier, Ryanne turned the bronzed face so blue eyes met green. "Sweetheart, if you would have died back there, I'll bet half of the guys who made it wouldn't have. I know for a fact Jenkins and Gregg would have died if it weren't for you.

"As for us here at home… Kris, last Christmas, Cassidy stopped wearing your Army jacket. We were both very upset that you had left us, after you promised to come home. And, had you not been keeping your nightmare from me, I don't think the fighting or the hitting would have happened," said Ryanne.

"But, the point is," she concluded, "without you, I wouldn't be here; not like I am. You're a part of me, Kris, and I love you with all my heart and soul. What I felt when I heard you had died… I don't know how long I would have lasted, had that feeling turned out to be permanent," she admitted, softly. "Don't ever, ever, say it would have been better if you'd actually died, because in losing you, I felt my heart die."

Kris was silent for a minute, absorbing what she had just been told.

"You really mean that?" she asked, after a while of silence.

"Yes."

"So you don't hate me for what I did?" was her next question, spoken so low Ryanne wasn't sure the woman had said anything.

Ryanne instantly put her arms around the tall soldier, pulling her into a strong hug, as she whispered fiercely, "No, sweetheart, not at all."

"I do." Kris cried into the blonde's shoulder as the woman lovingly held her tight, before Ryanne kissed her forehead, and suggested they go home. Kris readily agreed, and the two walked out hand in hand, paying no attention to the strange looks they received. Stopping at the drugstore to pick up the prescriptions, Ryanne drove home, as Kris tried hard not to fall asleep in the truck.

* * * * *

As the weeks passed, Kris began sleeping longer and more peacefully, and her temper greatly improved as a result. The night terrors toned down into nightmares, which frightened her, but weren't bad enough to wake her up. Cassidy helped keep her mind off the bad memories by asking for the soldier's help with her homework, which included writing book reports and working on multiplication.

Finally, after nearly four weeks, Kris decided she was feeling well enough and stable enough with her emotions to go back to work. Calling Mark to tell him she'd be back in on Monday, which also happened to be her birthday, the tall woman spent the entire weekend with Cassidy and Ryanne. The three spent the days going from movie theater to movie theater, park to park, and yard sale to yard sale until they were pleasantly exhausted.

"You never did tell me what you wanted for your birthday," said Ryanne, as she rested her head on Kris' shoulder, as the tall woman lay in bed.

"That's because I don't want you to get me anything, honey," smiled the soldier. "I've got all I need right here. I love you," she said, and kissed the blonde, softly.

Ryanne grinned. "I love you, too, Kris, but you're not off the hook that easy," she replied, and Kris growled. "Come on, there's got to be something I can get you." Little did the tall soldier realize Ryanne had done her gift shopping early, but the blonde decided she would still give the woman a hard time for not giving her a solid answer for the past two weeks.

Kris pretended to think about it for a minute, before shaking her head. "Nope, not a thing," she said, and Ryanne glared at her.

"You're a pain, do you know that?"

The soldier grinned. "Yeah, but I'm your pain," she replied.

"And don't you forget it," smiled the blonde, before kissing her gently and curling up into her arms for the night.

* * * * *

Kris was awakened the next morning by a small bundle of energy jumping on the bed.

"Cassidy, don't wake your mother," she warned, and the girl calmed a little, but wrapped her arms around the soldier's neck in a fierce hug.

"Happy birthday, Momma," she whispered.

"Thanks, baby," Kris grinned, lifting the child from the bed, and setting her on the floor, before following suit, after disentangling herself from Ryanne, who had somehow managed to throw an arm and leg over top of her.

"Let me get dressed, and I'll drive you to school this morning, all right?"

The girl smiled. "Promise?" she asked, excitedly.

The tall woman grinned. "Sure," she said, and ruffled the blonde hair as the girl skirted from the room to get dressed herself. Pulling her nightshirt over her head, she jumped in the shower, and was drying herself with a towel ten minutes later, when the bathroom light was suddenly shut off.

"Hey!…" she exclaimed, which trailed off when she felt soft hands encircle her bare waist.

"Morning," mumbled Ryanne, kissing from the exposed neck across to a naked shoulder. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

Kris smiled. "Thanks," she said. "You know, if this is the greeting I get, I think I'll get a year older every day." Ryanne chuckled and proceeded to remove Kris' towel, when the soldier reluctantly stopped her.

"As much as I'd love to wake up like this, I promised Cassidy I'd take her to school this morning, before I go to the base," she explained, and Ryanne gently kissed her lips.

"Okay," she sighed. "I'll probably come up and see you later today, all right?"

"I'm counting on it," said the tall woman, drying her hair. "I'm supposed to start off with a new group of grunts today, and the Captain says it's a large group of all men, so it should be fun. Wish me luck," she chuckled.

"Good luck, honey," said the blonde, kissing her again. "Have a good day, and I'll see you later." Dressing quickly, Kris deposited a soft kiss on the small woman's lips before calling to Cassidy, and hurrying out the door with the elated youngster.

"Are you really gonna drop me off in your camouflage suit?" asked Cassidy, happily bouncing in the passenger seat of Kris' large truck.

"If that's okay," she grinned, and the girl squealed.

"Just wait until Nathan sees!"

A dark eyebrow raised, curiously. "And just who is Nathan?" questioned Kris, and Cassidy smiled.

"Nathan's my boyfriend," she declared, proudly. "He told me Friday he likes me, and we play on the playground together." Kris chuckled to herself, as the girl rapidly fired out facts about the young boy she was apparently sprung on.

"Momma, liking a boy is okay, right?" she asked, suddenly, and Kris gave her daughter a concerned glance.

"Of course, sweetheart; why wouldn't it be?"

The girl sighed. "Well, I mean, you like my mother, but you're not a guy," she pointed out.

Kris bit her lip. Oh, boy, she thought, suddenly wishing Ryanne was there to help her with the sensitive talks. "Cassidy, it doesn't matter if the person you like is a boy or a girl, and it doesn't matter if you happen to be a boy or a girl., either. There are boys who like boys, boys who like girls, and girls who like girls," she explained. "There's nothing wrong with any of it."

"So, if a boy likes a boy and a girl likes a girl, that means they're gay, right?"

The soldier began wishing harder. "Yes," she affirmed.

Cassidy was quiet for a minute. "Then why do kids in my school say gay like it's a bad thing, if it's not?" she asked.

Kris sighed. "There are some people who think that it's only right for a man to love a woman, and anything else is wrong," she admitted. "That's called being prejudiced, and that's not a good thing. Those are the people who say that your mother and I shouldn't be together, because we're both women.

"But, the point is, Cassidy, that it doesn't matter who you like or even love, just so long as you're happy," the woman concluded. "Remember that, and don't let anyone tell you different, okay?"

Cassidy smiled, and Kris felt that perhaps she'd said something right. "Okay," the girl agreed, and happily drug Kris out of her truck by the hand, leading her into the elementary school until Nathan was found. After a few minutes of introductions, Kris began to feel like some kind of caged zoo animal to be poked and prodded, and told Cassidy she had to leave.

Waving good-bye to more than a dozen grade-school kids, Kris left a very happy Cassidy in her wake, as she drove on to the base to meet her new recruits.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Kris sighed. Her new group of forty men looked good, and seemed to have no trouble obeying her orders. Still, it was a hell of a way to spend her birthday. She'd much rather be at home, cuddled close to Rainne, but the soldier knew she'd done enough relaxing for a while. Although she still had a few sick days left, she needed to work.

A sharp, "Ma'am!" interrupted her intended command, and she turned to see a private standing behind her.

"What is it, Private… Adams?"

"Ma'am, Captain Bowman requests your presence in the mess hall immediately," he related, standing at attention as he spoke to his superior officer.

Kris frowned. "The mess hall?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. And he said your men were to remain in their quarters until your order otherwise." Adams added.

"All right," she agreed, turning to face her recruits, who were still standing obediently at attention, not even glancing at her during her conversation. "Platoon, fall out to your barracks! Wait for my orders."

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" they replied, filing out as they were told, going their separate ways, as Kris followed Private Adams and tried to figure out what Captain Bowman was doing in the commissary.

Opening the double doors, she took a startled step back when more than two dozen voices shouted, "Surprise!" Raising an eyebrow at the scene, Kris' blue eyes scanned the crowd, seeing many of her close friends like Parker, Jenkins, Winston, and even Henry Gregg. Her gaze resting on two grinning blondes, she was unable to stop the smile that spread across her face.

"Momma!" cried Cassidy, running and jumping into Kris' arms, the soldier catching the girl with ease. "I helped bake the cake!"

"You did, huh?" The girl nodded, and Kris lifted her into the air, as Cassidy laughed with delight. Upon seeing the rather large cake, Kris smiled. The pastry was covered in thick vanilla icing, the intricate flowers telling the soldier that Ryanne had a hidden talent for decorating, and two candles on top.

Here she groaned, and glanced at Ryanne, who was standing on her right. "It was your idea for the candles, wasn't it?" Ryanne only grinned, as a 3 and ? adorned the cake, to the amusement of everyone.

"And the party," added the blonde, earning her a bright smile and a quick kiss from her soldier.

"Thank you. What are you doing out of school, sweetheart?" she asked Cassidy, still in her arms.

"Mother said I could come to your party if I did good on my math test," she explained. "I got an A!"

"Hey, all right!" exclaimed Kris. "I'm proud of you, pip-squeak."

Tired of all the talk, Parker handed the tall woman the gift he'd brought. He was glad Ryanne had spoken to him several weeks before about the party, so he'd had time to look for a present.

"Open it," he urged, and Kris set Cassidy on the floor, taking the box from him. Taking her time as she gingerly unwrapped the gift, she caught the glare Parker was giving her, and laughed as she tore off the paper, tossing it in his direction. Removing a white T-shirt from the box, she raised a dark eyebrow at the soldier.

Printed on the shirt, in large black letters, were the words: "Yes dear."

"Figured you could use it, and it might help Ryanne out, too," he explained, dodging the playful shove that was aimed at his chest.

"Thanks, Tim," she said, grinning, and the man nodded. Going through the rest of the gifts, Kris laughed at most of them, although a few weren't meant to be humorous. One was Henry Gregg's present - a beautifully hand-crafted statue of two soldiers dressed in the combat uniform, one appearing to lift the other under the arms, pain evident on the soldier's face. Below, on the oak stand, the words "A soldier never leaves a man behind" were inscribed.

Blue eyes met blue. Kris held her hand out, pulling the boy into a strong hug when he took it, and whispered, "Thank you." The soldier nodded, and smiled as he motioned for her to move on to her other gifts. He'd flown out early that morning, and had a flight back home in a few hours, but was glad Ryanne had invited him to the party - it was great to his commanding officer doing so well.

"Here, Momma!" said Cassidy, eagerly handing the tall woman a square box, wrapped in newspaper. Upon opening the package, Kris found a white coffee mug, with a picture of a Palomino worthy of being Wind Dancer's twin. "When you fill it up with coffee, another horse appears!"

The soldier grinned. "Thanks, Cassidy," she said, giving the girl a strong hug. "I love it. I'll use it every morning from now on, okay?" With a big smile reaching from ear-to-ear, the child nodded, thrilled to no end that she'd picked out the right present.

Rainne gave her an envelope; her last gift. "And this is from me," she said, and Kris took it with an expectant smirk. Pulling out a piece of paper, she frowned slightly, and read the letter silently to herself.

Kris,

Sorry, your gift's not in here. You'll have to go to the Robin's Egg Diner at 5:00 tonight to get it. Tell the woman at the front desk who you are - she'll show you where to find me.

Happy birthday, honey!

All my love,

Ryanne

"All right…" drawled the soldier, placing a soft kiss on the top of the woman's head. "Should I be worried?"

Ryanne grinned. "Yes," she replied, to Kris' surprise, and the tall soldier chuckled. "Now, go mingle. I know you haven't talked to some of these guys in a while." Smiling, with one last kiss, Kris did as she was told.

Spending nearly half an hour speaking with everyone in attendance, she thanked them all for coming, and shook everyone's hand as they left. Cassidy giggled when the tall soldier took her hand, as well as Ryanne's, acting very official before, when everyone else had left, sweeping them both into a strong hug.

"Thank you both," she said, kissing the females on the top of their heads. "This has been a great birthday."

"And it's not over yet," winked Ryanne, and Kris grinned, raising an eyebrow at her. "I'll drive Cassidy home, and get ready. You don't really need to change, unless you want to," she added, and Kris took one look at her current camouflage outfit, and decided she wound indeed change clothes.

"I'll at least take a shower," she shrugged. "I'm sure I smell."

Ryanne smiled. "Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but…" She laughed as Kris growled, and chased her around the mess hall before capturing her in a fierce bear hug, and tickling her mercilessly.

"Okay, I give!" she cried, and Kris chuckled as she released her hold, and allowed the woman to walk towards the door, Cassidy in tow. "Oh, Kris?" she called, just as she reached the door, and the soldier turned from her place a few yards away.

"Hm?" The soldier was on her way back to her quarters to take a shower, since she assumed Ryanne wanted to change alone, as the dinner seemed secretive, and she wasn't about to spoil the surprise - for herself, or the blonde.

Green eyes sparkled playfully, as the woman stuck her tongue out at her, and replied, "You smell." Kris gave her a mock scowl, as Cassidy laughed, and the two blondes made their way to the parking lot, leaving a chuckling Staff Sergeant behind.

* * * * *

Kris Jones took a deep breath as she stepped out of her truck, and prepared to enter the world of fine dining. It had been a long time since she'd been in a nice place like the Robin's Egg, and although she was wearing her nicest pair of dark navy blue jeans, a crisp white shirt, and a dressy jacket, she felt strange. She didn't want to wear a skirt or dress, because not only was it just not her, she had no idea what Ryanne had in mind.

Reaching back to ensure the gem encrusted clip that held a portion of her hair back away from her face was still in place, the tall soldier opened the door, and walked up to the front desk. The lobby are was rather large, and several people waited on cushioned benches for their table to be ready, but Kris paid them no mind - the woman behind the counter was who she was supposed to speak with.

"Good evening, can I help you?" greeted the brunette, who was trying to juggle ringing phones, questioning customers, and busy waiters and waitresses.

"I need to see Ryanne Cole, and I was told you'd be the one who would help me," she explained, and the woman nodded.

"That's right. You must be Kris Jones," she said, and the tall woman nodded. "Look, as you can see, I'm a little busy right now, but I'll have John here show you where to go." Motioning to a passing waiter, she whispered in his ear, and pointed to the far end of the restaurant. The blonde man named John nodded, and gestured to Kris that she was to follow him.

The people still waiting in the lobby gave Kris a hard look as she walked past numerous tables, the woman wondering if John knew where he was going. Finally, he stopped in front of a pair of double doors, which led to a large conference room. Leaving her to herself, Kris decided this was where she was supposed to be, and slowly opened one of the large oak doors.

Her jaw nearly hit the ground at the sight that was revealed to her. Various candles had been lit around the room, bathing the room in a soft and gentle glow. All but two chairs had been moved to the back, and those two seats were positioned across from each other at one end of the table, plates of food and wine glasses in front of them. Two more candles were on the table itself, complete with a single red rose in a vase, and somewhere, Kris' mind vaguely acknowledged, a soft country love song could be heard playing into the stillness.

But what really drew the soldier's attention was the small figure, standing just off to the side, watching her intently. Ryanne had obviously gone all out for the event - and not just in candles. The blonde wore a smooth green dress, strapless, that went down to the middle of her thigh. Her earrings were a lighter color than her eyes, almost a clear emerald, but she donned a dark stone on a chain, that rested just above the cleave of her breasts.

It took Kris a while to speak. As it was, she was able to move before she found her voice, and walked over to where Ryanne stood, placing her hands gently on the blonde's shoulders.

"You're beautiful," were the first words out of her mouth, and watched the green eyes she loved light up with delight. "And this place is amazing. Thank you, honey."

Ryanne's smile made the candles pale in comparison, as she replied, "I'm glad you like it. But, you don't look so bad yourself, you know. I like this coat; it looks good on you." Running her hands down said jacket's collar, she came to a stop at the button that fastened the coat together, and leaned forward onto her tiptoes to kiss the soldier, softly.

"Happy birthday. Or did I tell you that already?" Kris chuckled, and led her to the table, making the blonde woman smile by pulling her chair out for her. As she found her own chair, the woman was surprised to find an envelope on the seat. Picking it up as she sat down, she opened it, and read the letter within:

Sweetheart,

I know you told me that I didn't have to get you anything for your birthday, but you know me - since when do I listen?

Here Kris smiled, and glanced up at the blonde, sparing her a quick wink, before going back to her reading..

After all, by the time you told me you didn't need a gift, I'd already finished everything, so you were in for it, anyway.

I know that, even though we try, our times alone are scarce, and I also know how much just being together means to you - I'm kind of partial to it, myself. So, on that note, this whole evening is yours, to be spent as you like. No one will bother us in this room; we have it for the whole evening should you so choose, but enclosed you will find tickets to a night out on Lake Needles; just you, me, the peaceful night, and the canoe.

I know this isn't enough, but I hope you enjoy it, and the only other thing I can offer you is my love - always and forever.

I love you.

Ryanne

Kris looked up from the letter with tears in her eyes. What had she ever done to deserve such a woman in her life? She didn't know, and didn't particularly care, just so long as she kept doing it.

"Ryanne, honey, this is more than enough," she said, honestly. "No one has ever done anything like this for me, much less spent this much time and effort paying attention to what I need. And if you could give me nothing else, but your love, I would still be the luckiest damn woman on the face of this earth."

With that, Kris proceeded to sample the dinner in front of her, and found everything to be delicious. The steak was tender, the mashed potatoes thick and creamy, the vegetable fresh, and, best yet, everything that was supposed to be warm, was.

Suddenly, as her watch beeped, signaling six o'clock, the soldier asked, "Where's Cassidy?" Not that the girl wasn't responsible enough and old enough to be home by herself, the woman just worried about her - she couldn't help it.

Ryanne smiled. "Barry's staying with her," she assured. "He offered when I told him what I had planned, and he said he could even stay the night, if need be." Kris' eyebrow went to her hairline at this possibility, and she grinned.

Since they were finished eating, Kris got to her feet, and, upon hearing one of her favorite songs, asked the small woman to dance. As the women stood in each other's embrace, moving softly with the music, the tall soldier knew she'd never feel the same way about anyone ever again. Nor did she want to.

She loved Ryanne more than she thought was possible, more than she'd ever loved anything in her whole life. Cassidy ran a close second, of course, but it was a different kind of love - one that could never be equaled in its own respect. But standing there, holding the blonde in her arms as they danced, Kris knew nothing ever had, or ever would, make her feel so right, so good, so… whole.

"Hey," smiled Ryanne, gently, looking up at her. "Where'd you go?"

Kris just grinned, and kissed her on the nose. "Nowhere," she replied. "I was just thinking. About you," she added, before the woman could ask.

"Ah, I see. Good thoughts, I hope."

The soldier looked at her like she was crazy. "Of course," she responded. "What other kind of thoughts do you think I have about you?"

The blonde shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe how you're going to pay me back," she hinted, and paused, when Kris held up her hand.

"Shh," the soldier urged, cocking her head up towards the ceiling. "It's raining," she deduced, to Ryanne's dismay. "I'm afraid we'll have to postpone that canoe trip, sweetheart." Seeing the woman's crestfallen expression, Kris was quick to say, "But, since you said no one will bother us, I'd rather just stay back here with you, anyway. I don't feel like sharing you with the rest of the world for a while."

Ryanne brightened, and stopped dancing long enough to press her mouth against the soldier's in a passionate kiss.

"That'd better be a long while," she stated, putting her arms around Kris' neck, pulling her down for another long kiss, this time not letting the woman go until she had to pull back for air.

"I love you, Ryanne," swore Kris, looking deeply into soft jade orbs, and seeing a love as strong as her own reflected therein.

There was no hesitation. "I love you, too. You know what?" she questioned.

"What?"

"I'm glad you showered," sighed Ryanne, as she dropped her head on Kris' shoulder, and breathed the scent that was pure soldier. Kris growled at her, but couldn't keep up the facade, and soon broke into a smile, which widened as she heard Ryanne laugh under her sudden tickle attack.

"Okay, I give!" she cried, and Kris stopped, pulling her into a tight hug as the woman caught her breath. "You know, I hate that you're not ticklish."

Kris grinned. "I know," she said. "But that's what makes tickling you so much fun - I just get to watch you squirm, and you can't do a thing about it."

A fair eyebrow was raised. "Oh, really?" questioned Ryanne, and Kris felt her heart skip a beat. "You," a feather-light kiss to the neck, "don't think," kiss, "I have," kiss, kiss, "any way of," a tiny bite, "paying you back?"

The tall soldier turned into a pile of mush. "Point taken," she said, weakly, and Ryanne smiled, kissing the soft flesh once more for emphasis.

"So, are you gonna challenge me again?" the blonde asked, proudly.

"Oh, yeah…" drawled the woman, leaning down to kiss a bare shoulder. "If for no other reason than I love losing to you."

"Kris," warned the blonde, "don't start something you can't finish."

A playful, "Who said I wasn't gonna finish it?" could be heard, as the soldier moved her kisses to the hollow of the woman's throat.

Ryanne held back a gasp as the caresses were continued over her collarbone. "We're in public, honey," she protested, her resolve weakening.

The soldier pouted as she reluctantly pulled back. "But I wanted to give the people out there something to talk about," she said, and the blonde laughed, however a little disappointed.

"Come on, tiger," she grinned, taking the woman's hand after the candles had been blown out, and both women had had their fill of gentle kisses for a while. "Let's go home, okay?" Kris eagerly agreed, and held the door open for the blonde, walking her out to the parking lot with all the air of a royal guest, even going so far as to bow slightly when she opened the passenger door for her.

"Why, thank you," smiled Ryanne.

"You're welcome," returned Kris, climbing in beside her, turning on her windshield wipers as soon as she started the vehicle. The rain was pouring down steadily now, as it had been for the past hour or so, and the soldier found the visibility to be poor. Turning on her lights, she pulled out of the parking lot, and headed for home.

* * * * *

Another bolt of lightning made its way across the sky, and Kris looked over at Ryanne, who was trying hard not to cower in her seat.

"Hey, are you okay?" the soldier asked, reaching over and taking the small blonde's hand.

Ryanne nodded, and Kris squinted as a car with their high beams on nearly blinded her. Suddenly, with green eyes wide, Ryanne yelled, "Kris, he's in our lane!"

The tall woman swerved to the right to avoid a head on collision on the two-lane road across the bridge, and winced as the large Buick impacted her truck just behind the driver's side door. The driver of the Buick didn't stop, and the tires on Kris' truck did nothing to stop their spin on the slick pavement.

Before she had a chance to try and stop what she knew was coming, the soldier had the sensation of flying, as the car pushed her truck through the guard rail and over the edge of the overpass. The force as they hit the surface of the water was the same as slamming into a rock, and jarred the soldier's entire body.

Gathering her wits, Kris' first thought was of Ryanne. Looking over, she saw the frightened woman scrambling to undo her seat belt to escape the icy water that was lapping around her ankles.

"Are you hurt?" asked Kris, throwing off her own safety belt. When Ryanne shook her head, Kris said, "Stay there, Ryanne. I'll come around and get you, all right? Don't move."

"Be careful," urged the blonde, and Kris nodded as she used all her weight to open the door of her slowly sinking vehicle.

"Oh, shit! That's cold!" she exclaimed, grabbing on to the frame as she climbed along the tailgate - what was above water. Continuing over to Ryanne's side, the women worked together to pry open the door, Ryanne gasping when the cold water rose from her waist to her neck in a flash.

"Take my hand," Kris instructed, determined not to become separated in the raging flood.

"Kris, the truck…"

"Come on," she said, kicking hard to stay above the surface, "we can't stay here - it'll sink." Just to be safe, she wrapped her arm around Ryanne's waist, pulling her along as she let the current move them swiftly down the angry river.

Looking around, she quickly formed an idea. "This way," she suggested, and began trying to swim to the side of the mountainous cliffs that enclosed the nature-made river. "Keep swimming, honey - trust me. There's a cave up here to the right. Keep you head up!" she encouraged, fiercely, as the smaller woman quickly began to tire against the strength of the current.

The river was powerful, and Kris was having trouble making sure Ryanne was okay. She wasn't as concerned with herself, knowing she had a good chance of holding her breath longer, should she be taken under, but her fear was for the woman she loved.

Now the shelter was in sight. Having played on the river when she was young, Kris knew the cave well, and put her all into reaching it. With one final kick, she realized with alarm that while the current would allow her entrance, the force would knock her into the wall.

Turning at the last possible moment, struggling against the Herculean flow, she grimaced as she took the blow with her back, sparing Ryanne but nearly dislocating her shoulder.

"Get up on that rock," she told Ryanne, helping the woman onto the large rock that was, as of yet, safe from the rising water.

"You, too," said Ryanne, but Kris shook her head.

"I'm all right," she said. "You just stay dry."

"It's cold," said the blonde, curling up into a ball in an attempt to warm up, while trying not to let her teeth chatter.

"Yeah," agreed Kris, adjusting her position so only her legs were in the water, still leaving Ryanne room on the protruding stone to stay out of the water. Which was rising. But Kris wouldn't say anything unless she had to.

"How you doing up there?" she asked, after a rather long period of silence. "Ryanne, sweetheart, keep talking to me, all right?"

"I'm just c-cold," stuttered the blonde, as the tall soldier took the smaller hands in her own, and gently blew warm air on the digits.

Kris raised an eyebrow as she questioned, "Hey, you remember what happened the last time you nearly got hypothermia?" The slight blush and small smile was enough to tell Kris she did.

Suddenly, Kris started laughing, and it was Ryanne's turn to raise her eyebrow at the soldier. "W-what's so funny?" she asked.

"Do you have any idea what I was thinking about when you walked into that shower?" Ryanne shook her head. "I was wondering if I'd get in trouble if I got in there with you."

Ryanne was surprised. "You wanted to take a shower with me?" Kris nodded, sheepishly. "Why?"

The soldier swallowed her slight embarrassment, deciding she'd answer honestly, if only to keep Ryanne awake, knowing how much the exertion of swimming had taken out of the small woman. "Because I wanted you," she admitted. "I knew I loved you, I guess I just wanted to show you. I mean, you're beautiful, smart, caring… how could I not?"

Ryanne smiled. "Thank you," she said. She was feeling a little better, but still cold, although her teeth weren't chattering as bad anymore.

Kris decided that while she wasn't one for girl talk, she'd rather trouble herself with expressing her feelings than lose Ryanne. She was about to resign herself to the talk, when she noticed the water was steadily rising, and now soaked her waist.

"Move back," she said, and Ryanne crawled further back into the cave, as Kris pulled herself up.

"But how will they find us back here?" asked the blonde, as Kris moved along side her, and wrapped her strong arms around her freezing frame. If the soldier thought she was cold, in pants and a jacket, however soaked she was, she knew Ryanne had to be worse off in just a dress, her high-heeled shoes having slipped off in the swim.

"I'll get us out of this," said Kris, kissing the top of the blonde's head. "I promise." When the silence descended upon them again, Kris sighed. "Call it my large ego at work, but… when did you realized you loved me? No, let's go back even farther," she corrected. "When did you first start liking me?"

Ryanne smiled. She knew what Kris was doing, but guessed the woman was curious, as well. "I think I was attracted to you when you first walked in the café, but I knew I liked you when I saw you talk to your men and throw Paul out when he grabbed me. That really meant a lot," she said, her shivering lessening as Kris held her close.

"And I realized I loved you when I saw how you were with Cassidy," said the blonde, softly. "Watching you with her, I knew she loved you as much as I did. Did you know she's always come to me - rather than a stranger? That day at the base when she climbed up on your lap; I knew," the small woman concluded.

Kris smiled, thinking of the girl she'd come to think of as her daughter. "Really? I was the only one she did that to?" she asked, happily, and Ryanne nodded.

"Yep," she agreed, and then continued, "you're not getting off that easy, hon. When did you first develop feelings for me?"

The soldier thought about it for only a moment. "I started liking you right off the bat, as we talked in the café that night," she began. "I've never been one for talking, but I found I didn't want you to stop talking, because I like the sound of your voice.

"And I knew it was love when I saw the smile you gave me after I told you I'd let you stay with me, if you needed. God, I'd give you the world to see that smile," she grinned.

"We've been through a lot these past two years, huh?"

Ryanne paused for a moment - had it really been two years? Wow. "Yeah, we have," she agreed, quietly.

The solder took a deep breath, and decided now was as good a time as any to get it off her chest. Gathering her courage, she cleared her throat, and commenced, "Ryanne?" to get the woman's full attention.

"What?"

"You know I love you," she said, and Ryanne smiled.

"I love you, too," she echoed, gazing into nervous and almost frightened blue eyes.

"And I never want to hurt you," the soldier continued.

Ryanne frowned. "Kris…"

"Please," said Kris, wanting to say what she had to before she lost her rapidly diminishing nerve, "let me finish. I never want to hurt you, but I know I have, and all I can do is promise to try to do better. I meant everything I said in that letter, Ryanne - there's nothing I wouldn't do to make you happy.

"I love you with all my heart and soul. You are the most amazing, beautiful, and loving woman I've ever known. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me. I look at you, and I just can't believe how lucky I am. I never want to find out what it's like to wake up without you beside me. I never want to remember you ten years down the road, because I don't want you to be the one I remember.

"You are my only one. As long as I have you and Cassidy by my side, I'll never need anything else. I guess what I'm trying to get at with all this rambling, is… will you marry me, Ryanne?"

Ryanne just stared at her, and Kris' whole being rested on what that tear in those deep green eyes meant.

A loud "Hey!" startled them both. "Is anybody in there?" called the deep voice, and a light quickly scanned the inside of the cave.

"Here!" called Kris, and moment later, an expert water-rescue diver with a harness and rope arrived.

"Take her first," the soldier told him, when he reached for the tall woman.

"I'll come back and get her next," he said, and Kris glared at him.

"No, you won't. You'll take her first, damn it, because I will not leave unless I know she's safe."

The man sighed. "Okay, then. Your ride's here," he said, and instructed Ryanne on what he was going to do, and how to hold on. "I'll be back for you." Giving the signal to the helicopter pilot, Jim Colt ascended with his chilled victim to the awaiting medical personnel in the chopper.

Moving off the rock just for the sake of moving, Kris quickly realized that wasn't such a good idea. She'd gotten stiff, and needed to move just for a moment, but it didn't go as she'd planned. Finding her sore body unable to support her own weight, the tall soldier choked and sputtered as the river claimed her.

* * * * *

Jim Colt prepared to make another jump after turning Ryanne over to the care of the EMTs, when he noticed the dark form being tossed about by the river.

"Shit," he muttered. "We've got one in the water. Take me up ahead of her, and I'll jump there," he told the pilot, using the waterproof mike in his helmet, as the chopper moved forward until it hovered a few yards above the water's churning surface.

"You may only get once chance at this," said Bill, the pilot, and Jim nodded, carefully judging the time of his jump.

"Kris!" cried Ryanne, fearfully, upon noticing the woman's shape.

"I"m going," said the diver, as he leapt out of the helicopter and into the cold water. Thankfully, his partner had just let out the right amount of rope, and the tension kept his head above the water.

Grateful for the spotlight, Jim located the woman easily, and was able to grab her arm as she went by. Hefting her limp form into his arms, he called to his partner to hoist him up slowly, and for the EMTs to be ready - she wasn't breathing.

The medics took Kris from Jim as soon as they were able, and immediately began rescue breathing, since they found a steady pulse. After a few breaths of air reached her water-logged lungs, Kris coughed up the liquid as they turned her on her side, to expel all the water she could.

"Ryanne," she groaned, and the blonde, wrapped in layers of blankets, instantly reached out and took her hand, as the chopper headed towards the local hospital.

"What's wrong?" the woman asked, as Kris' sapphire eyes looked pale and scale, and the soldier squeezed her hand.

"I can't feel my legs."

Chapter Twenty-Four

Kris stretched her legs as she climbed in the back seat of Barry's car with Ryanne, more than ready to go home after a day in the hospital. A day which, thankfully, revealed that Kris' legs were only numb, and her shoulder intact. Ryanne was cold, but other than a few bruises, she was fine.

"Thanks, Barry," said the soldier.

The man grinned. "Don't mention it," he insisted. "I'm just glad you two are okay. Cassidy and I were wondering where you were, but she figured you were out partying and painting the town all sorts of wild colors."

Kris chuckled. "Well, it started out that way," she mused.

Suddenly, Ryanne reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry, Kris," she said. "I really wanted your birthday to go better."

The tall woman was quick to reassure her. "Hey, sweetheart, listen to me. This birthday was one of the best I've ever had. I mean, I got to spend time with some of my closest friends, I had a chance to spend an entire evening with the woman I love, and even threw in a little adventure.

"And there was no way you could have known what would happen," she continued. "So don't worry about it, okay? I had a wonderful birthday."

The blonde smiled, and lightly kissed their joined hands.

Nothing more needed to be said.

* * * * *

Two days later, Kris walked through the door at ten-thirty, having to fill out numerous reports and various recommendations before she could leave. Intent on joining Ryanne in bed, she was startled to find the woman in the living room, wide awake and reading from her place on the couch.

The soldier stopped in her tracks when she realized exactly what the small blonde was reading. Her journal from the war.

"Hi," she said, softly, making the woman jump.

"Oh, hi," echoed Ryanne, quiet as she wondered why Kris suddenly looked pale.

The tall soldier sat down beside Ryanne, and sighed. "Ryanne, I never really meant for you to read that. Unless I was really gone, I mean," she corrected, gently.

"You don't want me to read it?"

Kris shook her head. "I can't stop you, hon. I just… well, there's a lot of unpleasant things in there. I didn't go into detail very often, but I did write down what was going on," she explained. "Don't stay up too late, hm?" Kissing the woman softly on the forehead as she got to her feet, the soldier walked into her bedroom, and soundlessly closed the door behind her.

Ryanne sighed. She hadn't meant to upset Kris, she'd just found the boxes while she was cleaning, and remembered about the journal. It was interesting, though. She was only on the first week, but already was amazed with how much the soldier downplayed about herself. The small blonde was sure the soldiers' commanding officer had done much more than what was on paper.

Deciding to finish the rest later, she put the book down, and silently climbed in beside the tall soldier. Seeing the muscled back turned in her direction, Ryanne put a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder.

"Kris, I'm sorry if I upset you," she voiced. "I just kind of wanted to get a better idea of what you went through while you were away. Really went through, not just what you told me in your letters."

Rolling over, Kris wrapped her arms around the blonde, whispering, "Thank you."

* * * * *

It took Ryanne a week to finish reading Kris' journal. She had to keep rereading entries, because she was sure she had to have read it wrong somewhere along the way. But, each time, it was the same. Kris had really thrown a grenade after being shot in the arm, she had really rescued one of her men, although she had to go through enemy fire…

She was still trying to believe it all, when Kris came home.

"All done, huh?" asked the soldier, seeing the notebook lying, closed, on the coffee table next to the couch. The blonde nodded, and Kris sat down next to her, wondering briefly if she should, or even if she could, tell Ryanne what she knew she had to.

"Ryanne, I need to talk to you," she began, quietly.

"What is it?" asked the small blonde, a little worried that it was bad news.

Kris sighed. "I've been trying to figure out how to say this… uh, do you remember what I asked you last week? While we were in the cave, I mean."

Ryanne nodded, slowly. "I think so," she said. "You asked me a lot of things, but I think I know what you mean."

"I asked you to marry me," reminded Kris. "I was just wondering if you'd thought about it, or if silence was the answer."

The woman was surprised. "I… I thought you were just asking because you thought we weren't going to make it, or something," she admitted.

The soldier shook her head. Come on, Jones - do this right. Sinking to the floor, she took Ryanne's hand in her own, and gazed up at her.

"I asked because I love you," she said, honestly. "God, I've been thinking about how to do this all week, and now my mind just went blank. Okay. Ryanne, when I first met you, I couldn't explain how I felt. It was like something in my heart, something that had been dormant for a very long time, suddenly came alive.

"And I was never one for talking, much less getting people to open up to me," she continued. "But I knew, when you hung up with Ms. Hillman that day, that I had to find out what was wrong. I had to help you. I wanted to help you. And I didn't want to let anything hurt you; or Cassidy, once I met her. I knew I would do everything in my power to keep you two safe, and to love you, even if it ended up I couldn't tell you.

"We've been through so much together, and I can't imagine my life without you. So, I'm asking… with all my heart. Will you marry me?" Reaching into the pocket of her jacket, the tall soldier withdrew a small box, and opened it to reveal a beautiful golden band, with emerald and sapphire stones embedded side-by-side to form the shape of a heart.

"Oh, Kris," breathed the blonde, in awe.

Kris swallowed, nervously. "If you'll have me, Ryanne, I'm yours - now and for the rest of my days." The woman watched as tears spilled over, and Ryanne nodded, still in a state of blissful shock.

With a soaring heart, Kris slipped the ring on the delicate finger, and kissed the small hand with tears of joy in her own eyes.

"Wait here," said Ryanne, squeezing the soldier's hand as she got to her feet, and hurried into the bedroom. Opening the drawer by her bedside, she removed an old and worn small cardboard box, taking it back out to the living room with her.

"Kris, nothing could possibly make me happier than I am right now," she smiled. "I've known from the start that I loved you, but I never really realized how deeply until I almost lost you. But we've made it through together, leaning on each other when we needed it and simply standing nearby when we didn't.

"I have to admit, I thought something was up when a big tough soldier had the guts to go buy a teddy bear for me and my daughter," she grinned, and Kris smiled, brightly. "There is no doubt in my mind that neither Cassidy nor I would be here today if it wasn't for you - thanks to you, we've made it through one of the most difficult parts of our lives. I know I'm not what you were looking for, but I thank God every day that I met you."

Opening the box, she continued. "This ring was my mother's; she gave it to Rachel to wear on her wedding day, my sister being two years older than me, and Rachel gave it to me before she died," said Ryanne. "And now, I want you to wear it. It's not much, but…"

Taking out the small band, which looked more like three thin gold rings entwined into a gentle twist, the blonde couldn't hold back the smile as she placed it on the tall soldier's ring finger.

Unable to hold back any longer, Kris cupped her hands around Ryanne's face, and gently kissed her lips, sealing their promises to each other. Both women knew the state wouldn't allow them to be wed by a priest, so they'd just had their own ceremony - they were married.

"Ryanne?" asked Kris, as she held the blonde in her arms.

"Hm?"

"You were right, you know." The small woman looked up at her, slightly confused. "You aren't what I was looking for. You're more." Ryanne smiled, and allowed the tall woman to take her by the hand, following her wife into their bedroom.

* * * * *

The following day passed by slowly for the tall soldier. It seemed to take forever for lunch to arrive; when it did, she raced to her quarters, and dialed quickly. Ryanne was staying at home, taking care of an ill Cassidy, who'd come down with the flu.

"Hello?" came the gentle answer - the blonde had a pretty good idea of who it was.

"Hi," smiled Kris. "How's Cassidy doing?"

Ryanne sighed. "A little better, I think," she guessed. "Her fever is still pretty high, and she hasn't eaten anything so far, but I finally got some medicine down her."

"That's good. Know what?"

"What?"

"I love you."

The small blonde grinned. "I love you, too, honey. I miss you," she admitted.

"Yeah, I know; I miss you, too. I'll be home in a little while, okay?" The two said their good-byes, and Kris hurriedly ate her lunch before joining her men out on the field again. If they noticed she was distracted, they didn't say anything.

"Hey, Sergeant Jones!" called Staff Sergeant Jenkins, as the woman rushed out to the parking lot. Coming to attention, she turned, and shook his hand as he approached. Being of equal rank, neither had to come to attention for the other, but they did, out of simple respect.

"Where're you going so fast?"

Kris grinned. "I'm going home to my wife," she said, happily, showing him the beautiful ring that she proudly wore upon her finger. Ronald enveloped her in a strong hug, congratulated her, and sent her on her way. As the tall soldier drove down the road, she realized it was the first time she'd ever had a family of her own to come home to.

She'd experience a lot of firsts, no doubt. But she'd share them with Ryanne.

For the rest of their days.