July 24th

He’s here.

How the hell did he end up being assigned to this of all missions is beyond me. No…I know…he ‘requested’ it.

Does he even know that I am pissed with him? Does he even care? He is acting like nothing happened.

Not only that, he got me in trouble with Hawk. We were watching the castle, waiting for Destro’s ‘all clear’ when Flint began to press my buttons as he usually does when he wants to test the waters…see how far he can take it until I loose my temper.

Grrrr…I so wanted to wipe that damn grin off his face as he watched my CO ream into me like I was a raw recruit. Hawk however, did it for me…turning to the Warrant Officer and blasting him just as thoroughly. I turned around so he wouldn’t see the smile of satisfaction that spread across my face…obviously not quickly enough given the glare he gave me as he passed by on his way to the vehicles.

Believe it or not…the two of us have been what can be loosely termed ‘lovers’ for a good few years now. Although you would never know it looking at the two of us interact lately.

Sometimes I wonder myself…

Things have changed. I know they have…and I am sure he feels it too. Something has crawled its way between us, an unresolved issue that was brought to the surface outside a hospital in New York…one that has been slowly chipping away at our relationship…our friendship…bringing it down piece by fragile piece.

Here he comes…

Did he just wink at me?

Oh NO! If he thinks he is going to charm his way into my tent tonight he has another thing coming.

No way.

July 24th , PM

Just call me Alison ‘Doormat’ Burnett.

I have no willpower.

I am sitting here in my tent with Flint curled up next to me…out like a light. He showed up a few hours ago and using that trademark charm and a couple of other skills to break down my resistance…as he does every time.

*Sigh

Sex with this man is incredible. I have to laugh now, because if he ever knew that I thought that much less wrote it down I would never hear the end of it. His ego is inflated enough as it is, he certainly doesn’t need me adding to it.

For someone with such a gruff exterior…with such a braggart, exasperating, macho demeanor, he is a surprisingly gentle and attentive lover. That is not to say that we haven’t had our moments. There are times when he has taken me roughly, with an almost animal-like urgency…his eyes dark and wild. I have to admit that it frightens me when it happens. I think it scares him a bit too, although he would be loath to admit it. For the most part, however, he is very tender and quiet….so different from the Flint I work with that even after all this time it never fails to astonish me.

I have had other lovers. Some of them short and fleeting, some more long term. I don’t remember much about my teen crushes…although I am sure there were a few despite the fact that I attended an all-girls school where access to the opposite sex was limited. Most of what I recall came in the university years.

Did I ‘love’ any of them? Yes…

Was I ‘in love’?

I would have easily said yes to that question before I left for Trinity to do my graduate work, because truth be told you don’t really know what ‘being in love’ is until you actually experience the pain and the pleasure, the intensity, the helplessness and the pure joy of it for the first time.

His name was Shawn McNally, a Philosophy professor almost twenty years my senior…which scandalized my family but I really didn’t care. I met him in the library one day after class and he invited me out to a pub for a drink. The attraction was instantaneous…

I lived with him during my time in Ireland, and I was happy. We had the same circle of friends, similar taste and much in common. He was handsome in an academic way…if I had to compare him to someone famous I would say he comes closest to Gabriel Byrne…and he was keenly intelligent. He was good to me.

So…what happened?

Heartbreak, what else…

Even after all this time remembering the pain of that night brings a tear to my eye. I was in the last few months of my degree when it came to light. I don’t know why I didn’t figure it out sooner…the signs were all there. I guess its safe to say that I was young and naïve. Very naïve…or maybe deep down I knew but blocked it out so I wouldn’t have to deal with it.

You are probably thinking he was having an affair. God, I wish he was…it would have made leaving so much easier. He was faithful…and I know in my heart he loved me.

No.

What I found out one cold March night in Dublin was that my quiet Philosophy professor was a major player in the IRA. I begged him to give it up. I told him I couldn’t stay with someone who worked with those ‘terrorists’…but when asked to choose between his countrymen and a lover…well…there could be no other answer.

Yeah…well…it took me a while to get over him but I did, and looking back I realized how young I really was then. My life has changed so much, I wonder if he would even recognize me if we passed each other on the street.

There have been others since then, but all brief flings…nothing long-term or substantial. My mother had tried to set me with several pedigreed young men, ‘good prospects’ she called them…but I spurned them all much to her dismay.

I wasn’t looking for anyone. I think I needed time to find myself before I hooked up with someone else. I was content to be free and concentrate on my newfound career.

That all changed when Dashiell Faireborn walked onto the training field and blew up my tank.

As usual I find myself watching him sleep. He is so handsome…his body the envy of men…like something chiseled by Michelangelo. Every piece in perfect proportion, every muscle tight and defined…and he knows it, carrying himself with the arrogance of a prize athlete. His skin is soft and smooth, and although his hands are calloused from his years in the military, their touch is always gentle.

His hair is getting a little long and is curling a bit at the ends. I can’t help but run my fingers through it…although I don’t want to wake him. His face is relaxed and his mouth is sporting a sleepy smile of contentment…a ‘little boy’ smile that no one would ever see while he was awake and aware.

Did he just say my name in his sleep?

Oh…

He just drapped his arm across me and he is pulling himself closer, nestling against my side.

And there goes my heart again…melting. God, what am I doing to myself?

“Love has no place in the military…”

Flint told me that once. Our line of work left little time for relationships. Long periods of time spent apart, regulations stalking every move, and the ever-present danger of one or the other getting killed.

No…he was right…and at the time I agreed with him. Our relationship was new, and I was content to leave it at that. No commitment, just fun and mutual comfort, a friendship with a little on the side…

Unfortunately, as time went on my heart had other ideas.

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