Author: Autumn

Lambert joined them again in the evening, and Hartmann stepped back as the captain took the lead with directing Carol’s training. The captain kept her repeating drills in the dark, until with a frown he looked at his watch and told her that it was time to call it a night. Holmes escorted her away, and Hartmann waited for his own dismissal.

“My office,” Lambert grunted instead. Once they were behind closed doors, the captain took a key out of his pocket, unlocked a drawer, and pulled out a folder which he slapped down onto his desk. “You’re going to help me get as much of this shit programmed onto autopilot as we can.”

Hartmann picked up the folder and opened it, silently reading for awhile. “I can program in the coordinates to get her there and back,” he mused after awhile. “The targets are a different story, but at least there shouldn’t be any civilians to be concerned about.”

Lambert opened his drawer again, and took out a specialized flash drive that he handed over to the master sergeant. “Better than having her lost over the ocean. This came in last week from R&D, so here’s hoping it works the way it’s meant to. C’mon, to the Suit, now.”

The two men proceeded to the bunker, and Hartmann sat in the pilot’s seat of the Suit, but didn’t close the doors. He plugged in the flash drive, and put together a basic computer program to get Carol through her first mission, testing and verifying as much of his work as he could without actually leaving the Base. Lambert stood close by, leaning against the doors as he quietly dictated the necessary data, but the going was slow. Hartmann had always operated with coordinates and objectives, and while he knew that others were working on an external drive that was compatible with the Suit’s computers, he never thought the project seemed interesting or relevant. He certainly hadn’t expected that he would be the one learning how to program the autopilot settings for someone else to use. He tested as best as he could without actually taking the Suit out, knowing that if he screwed up, Carol would struggle enormously with navigating on her own. It resulted in him performing a number of redundant checks, but Lambert listened to each one patiently without pushing him to hurry up – his thoughts were likely the same.

By the time that they were done, the captain took one glance at his watch and immediately headed for a vending machine to buy a couple of energy drinks. There wasn’t much point in trying to sleep before the mission was scheduled to start, and with their suppressed jitters, neither of them would be able to anyway. Instead, they passed the next couple of hours in silence, sitting kitty corner in the cafeteria. When Lambert stood, Hartmann stood as well.

The hallway outside of Carol’s room was dimly lit, and the captain pounded on the door with such force that it was certain to startle and scare the mousy woman, bellowing “Rise and shine, commander!” There was a thump inside, the sound of bare feet slapping against a hard floor, and the door flung open to a disheveled Carol looking up at them with alarm. “Get dressed. Quickly,” Lambert growled. “You have thirty minutes to eat a light breakfast.”

“What’s going on?” she asked faintly, but the captain barked, “Just do as you’re told!” in response.

The door closed, then opened again after a mere two minutes. Carol was still hastily pulling her unbrushed hair back into a ponytail, and her boots were unlaced, but she was willing to accompany the two military men. Lambert’s face softened with approval, and with a nod the three of them set off towards the cafeteria.

The three of them sat down to a meal of granola, yogurt, canned fruit, and sausage. It satisfied the basic checklist of nutritional requirements, but Hartmann still secretly wondered how Carol would fare if she vomited up a combination of yogurt and sausage during the course of her mission; it was a disgusting thought. Lambert still hadn’t offered any explanation about what the day would bring, likely holding the news off for as long as he could.

Holmes arrived after ten minutes, saluted dutifully, then stood at attention. Carol’s suspicions were definitely growing, but she willfully avoided looking at Hartmann. In fact, with the way her eyes skipped over him and lingered on the captain, he struggled to suppress the jealousy that welled up inside of himself.

It was my hand you held last night, he thought, tightening his fingers into a fist. My lips that kissed you. Look at me, not him.

But Lambert was the commanding officer in charge of giving orders.

“I’m finished eating, sir,” Carol said slowly. “What are we doing today?”

He stood, nodded to Holmes, the replied dismissively, “You have your first real combat mission. Congratulations.”

Lambert was a coward, Hartmann thought as he watched the captain retreat. He, however, remained to watch Carol blanch, her face turning pale enough that he wondered if she was going to lose her breakfast already.

“You all right?” he felt compelled to ask, and she looked at him blankly before nodding.

“Yeah. I guess.” Her voice squeaked. The color was completely gone from her lips.

Hartmann frowned. Part of him wanted to assume the role of the doting boyfriend, and assure her that everything was going to be just fine because he had spent all night working to make her job easy for her. The other part, the one crafted and shaped by his life in the military, barked orders for her to toughen up and grow a pair – to ‘fake it till you make it,’ the same way he did. He reminded himself that he was playing the good cop, and he couldn’t be calloused towards her.

“The Suit will help you,” he said slowly, carefully considering each word. “You’ll laugh about how nervous you were later tonight.”

“Yeah,” Carol faintly repeated. Her eyes were unfocused, and Hartmann wondered what sort of tumultuous storm was raging inside her head.

He stood. “Have corporal Holmes escort you to the bunker. I have something to take care of first.” He headed in the direction of the nearest restroom to throw them off, glanced back to ensure that Carol wasn’t watching, and ducked through the doorway and around a corner to escape out into a hallway. He pressed his back against the wall and took in a deep breath, fighting against the thought that they were hopelessly fucked.

When it came to Carol, he was turning into as much of a coward as Lambert. Seeing her repressed internal struggle had gotten the better of him, and he had fled on a flimsy excuse just like the captain had.

Cut her loose before she ruins you, some deep inner voice urged him, but he knew that he couldn’t let her go.

Carol was under his skin.

And he was going to spend the next several hours monitoring her using the Suit in combat – it was certain to be a fucking miserable day.

As the hours flew by and Hartmann had Carol progress to practicing shooting targets, he began to fancy that as long as he kept her busy, he could hold off the onset of the morrow. She seemed oddly oblivious to dramatic change in the nature of her training, and her good mood had a relaxing effect on him. Surprisingly, she would occasionally drop a comment over the radio that hinted at the events of the night before without exposing too much, and it was refreshing to realize that he wasn’t left to do all the work in flirting. Had she similarly spent the night preparing for the role that she would play in their secret romance?

They were reflections of each other, despite the dramatically different manifestations.

When the sun brushed the horizon, Hartmann decided that it was time to stop for a meal. He hadn’t eaten since his morning coffee, but he barely felt it; what he wanted was the moment alone with Carol. Once they were in the bunker and Carol was out of the Suit, he feigned indifference as he asked, “You eating in the cafeteria?”

She looked at him, then nodded as she slowly unclipped the radio from her t-shirt. “I guess so, master sergeant,” she replied.

“You’re dismissed, corporal,” Hartmann said to Holmes. “We’ll resume training in an hour, so take care of your personal shit for the day.”

“Yes, sir,” Holmes answered, saluted, then turned to leave.

Hartmann’s eyes were fixed on Holmes’ back as he said, “You’ve made a lot of improvement today, so I’m going to take you out for ice cream.” When he was certain the young soldier was out of earshot, he turned fully to Carol and smiled. “It will be a date.”

Carol blushed, bit her lip, and turned away, though she nodded and squeaked, “Sure.”

“Don’t be nervous.” Hartmann’s hand found her elbow, and he purred, “I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”

Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, and she lightly stuttered as she said, “M-master sergeant.”

“Trust me.” He looked around, but decided the bunker was far too exposed for him to try anything. “Let’s go. We only have an hour.”

“It’s hard to believe that it’s dinnertime already. Feels like we haven’t been training for very long,” Carol spoke in a conversational tone as they headed outside and turned towards the street. “I like being in the Suit much better than physical training or book learning.”

“We should focus on that from now on.” His reply was more autopilot than anything else, but his hand slid down from Carol’s elbow, along the soft underside of her arm, then clasped around her own hand. He liked making her blush, and she responded readily whenever he made his advances. In contrast with his experiences in the military, it was unreal to think that a woman like her existed – he understood why Lambert had called her a mouse. “Where would you like to eat?”

“I don’t know.” Carol hesitated, then moved to hug his arm between her breasts, holding onto him tightly. “Where ever you want.”

She was different now than she had been earlier in the Suit. More shy and uncertain, as if she had left all of her confidence inside the mecha. Hartmann related to her change in demeanor, knowing all too well how much better it felt to be big and indestructible. He knew exactly how to use it to his advantage, too.

“Burgers and fries, since that will give us enough time to hop over to the ice cream place. Let’s get my car.” He wanted the walk to the parking lot to last forever, to keep hold of the sensation of Carol’s heart beating against his tricep. “I’m proud of how much better you’re doing today.”

She beamed. “Me too. I thought that shooting and target practice were easier to get the hang of than running around, and it’s more fun. Are we going to do more of it tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.” Hartmann winced inwardly, but hid it. “And at the rate you’re going, you’ll be a pro by the end of tomorrow.”

Carol was too elated to protest the flattery, or to notice the forced note in his intonation. He was content to let her live in the moment, filled with the high that comes after piloting the Suit, and out on her first official date with her new secret boyfriend. He wasn’t going to spoil his chances by trying to burst her bubble with reality.

When they were seated in the front seats of his car, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. Hartmann leaned across the center console and pressed his mouth against her lips, his fingers gliding through her hair just behind her ear. The taste of her was so intoxicating that it was difficult to maintain his senses and keep control of himself, and his nerves cried out to feel her skin against his. He had to break away when it became too much for him to endure.

Carol’s lips had turned a deep red and she was studying him closely, but her expression was difficult to read. “When did you first start liking me?” she asked.

Hartmann shrugged. “Can’t say, honestly.”

She entwined her fingers with his after he started the car, and surprised him when she said, “I’m sorry that it took me so long to notice you.”