August 15th
Oh happy day!!
I did it! I finally did it!
I beat Flint at Squash. And oh boy did it feel good! Seeing the amazed look on his face was so worth the pain I am going to be in tomorrow after such an intense match.
He introduced me to the game when we first moved base after the PIT at Fort Wadsworth was destroyed. I had loved our old command center, which was situated right near New York City. It was a full working military compound with all the amenities…so much to do when you had that rare time off. I used to go play tennis in my free time with some friends in the city. I wasn’t a superb player, but I could hold my own. There was also a full marina, great trails for jogging…cafes, bars and shops only a short drive away…you couldn’t have asked for a better place to be stationed…even if most of your day was spent underground.
Well…after the COBRA invasion that destroyed it, the powers that be decided to move us to a more remote site. And when I say remote…I really mean the middle of nowhere. I cannot tell you the exact location, as it would compromise our security if my ramblings ever fell into the wrong hands, but I will say that we are well hidden…our headquarters deep underground.
Unfortunately, spending most of your time in the endless artificially lit corridors and rooms, breathing in recycled and filtered air, can drive you stir crazy. Especially somebody like me, who loves to have the sun on my face and feel the wind in my hair.
I think Flint sensed I was going a bit nuts and invited me to join him for a game one day. The PIT III isn’t all stark and military. There is one level that has Squash and Racquetball courts, a full gym, a games room and, believe it or not, a mini movie theatre.
Anyhow, I didn’t accept right off the bat. For one thing I was just getting to know him better and I didn’t want him to get the wrong impression from my accepting. He had stopped hitting on me as often (although he still got in some cheesy lines every now and then), and to tell you the truth I wasn’t sure he would be the best teacher. He is not the most patient person in the world, and we are both very competitive.
I predicted disaster.
As is typical with him, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, insisting he would teach me, and that my tennis background would make it easy to learn.
I finally relented, and found much to my surprise that not only did I enjoy the game, but that brash and impatient Dashiell was an amazing teacher…yet another facet of this complicated man that I had just discovered. We ended up playing together as often as we could, and as I got better Flint turned up the pressure, making me run around the court after the ball like a mad woman. He was a very skilled player and I was never able to beat him…
Until today.
I turned the tables on him but good. It was he that was given a run for his money. We both poured it on…neither of us willing to let up…killing the ball and pushing the limits of our game.
As I said…I am going to be very VERY sore tomorrow…but so is he I bet.
I even did a little victory dance in front of him to rub it in, not even pausing to consider that he is as poor a loser as I am a winner…but instead of anger I was rewarded with a grin and a shake of his head. His eyes flashed amusement…and something else, something deeper…but I didn’t catch it as before I knew it he had grunted something inaudible and said he was hitting the showers.
I spent the rest of my day catching up on paperwork in the office I share with about three other Joes (we are a little cramped for space). Other than my combat and analysis work, my duties also consist of the administrative nonsense that keeps the operation running smoothly. Personally, I couldn’t care less how important it is, I hate it. I feel like a glorified secretary, but unfortunately I was ‘volunteered’ for these duties early on and have yet to find a way out of them.
As I sat there contemplating the huge pile of personnel files waiting to be updated, I noticed something sitting on my desk. I have it here in my hand as I write this, and it is still bringing a grin to my face. It is a Squash ball, and taped to it was a little note from you know who…
“To the victor go the spoils…see you tonight. -D”
Well…it looks like he has just invited himself over again. And to tell you the truth, I don’t mind. I could use the company. We haven’t really had a chance to be together since that last night in my tent in Trans Carpathia, and though the ‘common-sense’ side of my brain keeps telling me to stop and resolve our issues before I jump into bed with him again…my more passionate, throw caution into the wind side is planning to jump him the minute he walks in…
…and there is the knock at the door.
It seems the latter side of my brain is going to win this battle as always.
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