It was late evening when Lambert joined them in the cafeteria. Hartmann had dutifully kept his logbook, and to his relief, Carol had returned to her typical self bit by bit. Lambert was in a good mood, and he clamped a hand down on her shoulder as he proclaimed, “Our commander did a thorough job out there. She’s officially blooded now.”
More than can be said of you, Hartmann thought bitterly, inwardly bristling at the way the captain’s fingers slightly massaged her. Carol’s face turned bright red.
“I-I just did what I was supposed to, sir,” she stammered.
“Wish you had told us about that ‘help mode’ sooner; would’ve saved us all a lot of stress.” Lambert laughed. “C’mon, let’s go out and celebrate.”
From the captain’s boisterous attitude, Hartmann suspected he had already done some celebrating.
“I kind of just want to go to bed,” Carol protested, then shrank back from the look in Lambert’s eyes.
“Camaraderie, commander,” he half growled, half purred. “You’re one of us, now.”
“I’m in.” Hartmann stood and forced a half smile. “Bring that kid corporal along too. He knows what Carol’s normally like, so he should be included.”
“Great idea.” Lambert pulled the radio off his belt and gave orders for Holmes to meet with them in the parking garage.
They made the necessary arrangements, and Lambert drove off with Carol while Hartmann remained to wait for Holmes. Once alone, he let out an expletive and kicked the tire of his car, then took in a deep breath to regain self-control. Carol was a good as his, he reminded himself, so there was no harm in her spending time alone with the captain – Lambert was already suspicious of his interactions with Carol, so it was prudent to play distant anyway.
If he could have it his way, he’d lock Carol up in his apartment where she would play house for him alone, far away from all of this military bullshit.
It took only a few minutes for Holmes to come jogging, and a minute after that Hartmann was accelerating out of the parking garage with squealing tires. He made casual small talk to hide his anxiety, playing up nonchalance with a hint of machismo, repeating that he could have done a better job in the Suit to imply that he was insecure over Carol’s success. He didn’t care what Holmes thought, as long as the corporal didn’t guess that the real reason why he was speeding was because he was scared of leaving Carol alone with the captain, because even still he worried that there was a possibility of losing her to Lambert.
Lambert’s car was in the parking lot at the bar, but he and Carol were already inside. Hartmann winced slightly when he recognized the exterior as one of his hunting grounds, and silently chastised himself for not paying more attention when the captain had suggested the name. Had the choice been deliberate? Was it Lambert’s move in the competition for Carol’s attention? Was he hoping that Hartmann would be embarrassed by one of his former sluts?
Hartmann’s heart was pounding with anger. He kept his back tall and straight, and strode in through the doors, his jaw set as he scanned for the pair that he needed to keep apart at any cost. Carol was his, and he wasn’t going to stand for this bullshit from their commanding officer.
Carol waved at him from one of the tables, and Lambert turned to study him. Keep it cool, Hartmann breathed in and out. He would keep his facade up, and the evening would pass by without a hitch – he would see to that.
“Hey, corporal,” he said to Holmes who was standing slightly behind him. “What are you in the mood for? This round’s on me.”
Holmes grinned and answered a tequila brand that hit like a punch to the gut, but was popular with the younger soldiers. Hartmann bit back the urge to point out that Carol would be drinking along with them, and instead slapped Holmes’s shoulder and laughed, “Coming right up!” A moment later, he plopped himself down at the table with a bottle and four glasses, and poured an inch of liquid into each one.
“Um, sir, I’m not so sure about this …” Carol began to protest, but Lambert wouldn’t hear it.
“You fight with us, you drink with us. Loosen up and celebrate, commander, your cherry’s been popped.”
“Captain!” Carol’s face turned bright red. “That’s not an appropriate thing to say.”
All three of the men burst into laughter, and Holmes exclaimed, “Carol, you’re a hoot!” as she looked around, confused and uncomfortable.
“Drink!” Lambert ordered. “We’ll find a way to work that stick out, one way or another.”
Her eyes met Hartmann’s, as if she was seeking his help. He picked up his glass and said, “Here’s to the cleaning lady, for surprising us all.”
She took the cue, and sipped some of the alcohol, instantly coughing as a shudder ran through her. “Oh god, that’s strong,” she gasped.
Lambert laughed and gave Carol a strong pat on the back. “Finish it all, commander. Be a good girl.”
Hartmann wondered what was going through the captain’s mind. Carol was clearly struggling with the potency of the alcohol, and she was already showing signs of being tipsy. But, after she choked down her first glass, Lambert poured her another.
By Autumn Rain 