Collateral Damage (Closed)

[ManlyUsername]

Way to go, he thought. You just analyzed your way into a set of blue balls. Dex sometimes wished he was the 'act first analyze later' type, but people with that mindset didn't last long in the defense industry.

His disappointment was profound. Now more than ever, as she seemed to relax once again, that hint of southern charm returning, he found himself disturbed by the extent of his attraction. That said, the assessment of their situation was a fair one.

"Does this mean we are finally on a first name basis?" He had meant it as a rhetorical question, but now it had been so long he still couldn't bring himself to use her first name without express permission. "Well, your sex kitten game is not bad." He gives her a smile, hiding his disappointment behind what he hoped was humor.

"You just need to learn to take yes for an answer. Unless you're into dickheads who don't respect boundaries, but that usually doesn't end well." A comically raised eyebrow to make clear he is not being serious. Though in truth it was probably a good point. Perhaps she had expected him to 'be a man' and 'take what he wanted' but that all seemed pretty disrespectful and quite contrary to how Dex was raised.

"I'll admit, as disappointed as I am, I've never screwed a woman into a state of amnesia before, so I don't think I could have lived up to your standards anyway. Would have had a hell of a time disappointing you though." He laughed, and for the first time actually took a bite of his food.

The flavors were foreign, and more intense than he was used to but her recommendation was solid. "This fish…is amazing by the way." He was starting to relax. He felt bad about the tension between them, knowing he was as responsible for it as her.

"And hey, listen. The whole 'not wanting you around' thing, it's not you personally. In fact, you've actually managed to only be a small pain in my ass. It's just you military folks rotate through every year or so. So every time a new officer comes on board we have to start at square one getting them up to speed. And then they usually have an axe to grind, or they're desperate to show how they made some great contribution to the project. So they, well, they just kinda get in the way."

"Anyway; agreed. This never happened." He took another sip of his beer and then smiled. "I make no promises about the day dreaming though."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“Only outside of work,” there was real warmth in that smile from her then, relief that the awkwardness had finally passed. “If one of my superiors heard you being so causal with me at work, we’d both get in trouble.”

And I don’t need any more of that right about now.

Another soft chuckle at his comment about her act. “It was horrible, but bless your heart for trying to suggest otherwise.” The drawl was coming and going now with more ease, dancing in and out of her polished military tones. “I guess that was evidence for how long it’s been for me.” A scrunching of her shoulders and her nose, childish, but clearly embarrassed. “I’ve mortified myself enough for one evening, thank you very much,” said lightly enough, but the cast of her eyes proved she was truly embarrassed.

Ugh. I fucked this up six ways from Sunday. That’s what I get for trying to be something I’m not. You’d think I’d learn after all these years, but nope!

Quiet between the two of them as they ate - her response to his comment about the fish a somewhat smug “I told you so” smile. The conversation swung back to work, and she seemed even more relieved than she had been before. This was something she knew; territory that would make her feel like she’d truly put the more fumbling part of the evening to bed.

“I figured as much. You certainly get a lot of personalities in the military. Lifers are usually the most stubborn; figured that’s who you’ve been assigned to in the past. Those who want to keep working their way up and make a name by appearing to seem busy. Those who actually want to innovate…” A slight shadow over her face. A too rough stab at the food in front of her. “Well, they either get shuttled from one department to another until they stop making a fuss, or they’re shoved into a dark corner to be forgotten.”

No. We’re not doing this tonight.

“In all honesty, Dex,” she figured his statement about daydreaming didn’t need more acknowledgement other than a small, enigmatic smile, “I don’t like drones. I don’t like how the military is relying more on them. I get the idea: more lives are saved, it’s cheaper than constantly training pilots. But there are some things that humans can do that machines just haven’t gotten there yet. I can’t fight the higher ups about using drones: that’s not only entirely above my station, but it’s like saying that we should be still be using the old Model T instead of a nice Toyota. So…I’ve got to find a compromise. That’s what you do in life, right? You try to see both sides, try to find a path in the middle.” She poked at a pile of rice on her plate with her fork, turning it over, mixing it in the spicy sauce that had been liberally drizzled on her shrimp. “That’s what I’m trying to do with your team. I’m trying to better understand where you’re coming from, but also, what’s the best way to help people who are already in the military, whose clearance may be less than mine, so they’re really having to start from nothing. All of this stuff goes way over my head - I hate to admit - but I guess it’s good luck in bad that it does. Makes it easier for me to break it down.”

 

[ManlyUsername]

Dex took the warnings about decorum at work in a good hearted manner. She was right of course. He’d have to make a point of keeping his wandering eyes more in check, in addition to watching what he said. Especially now that some of the walls seemed to be coming down between them. “Duly noted. No talking about how ridiculously attractive you are at work, got it.” Followed by a little laugh. “Sorry, had to get that last one out of my system.”

He couldn’t help noticing a hint of tension when she talked about advancement and personalities in the military. Something on the edge of being said and then held back. Another clear signal. They were friendly, not friends. He needed to keep reminding himself of that.

Dex nodded animatedly, not in agreement as so much as acknowledgement when the conversation turned to the inevitable. This was a conversation Dex had had a dozen times, and would have a dozen times again. Mahalo was a pilot. Pilots universally hated drones.

She made the usual points about there always needing to be a human in the loop. Dex countered with the fact that armed drones currently had remote pilots, so whatever failures had occurred in the past were better attributed as human failures than failures of the tech. But she then made a pretty impressive case for how some kid in a metal box in Vegas, staring at a video screen would never have the same perspective as someone looking out the canopy of an F-18 in the hostile skies of Iraq or Afghanistan.

Though the rest of the discussion was much the same as always, Mahalo didn’t have the same cock-sure ‘let me tell you why you don’t understand’ attitude that Dex was used to getting from most pilots. It was an actual discussion, and she was happy to acknowledge those points they agreed on, but when they did not agree, she was prepared to back it up.

From a technical aspect, the arguments were weak, and in the end, they mostly agreed to disagree. But something about the way she talked about the emotional accountability when you could actually feel the ordnance dropping off your bird. Could feel the change in how the aircraft handled for the flight back to base, ensuring you had plenty of time to second guess your decisions. It stuck with Dex more than any of his previous discussions had.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

A small duck of the head at his last flung compliment, pressed lips together biting back a smile before they’d moved on. It was a friendly last volley, she’d thought, meaning that her truce was accepted. She could live with that, though the thorns of embarrassment still curled round her stomach.

Conversation into work moved easily and swiftly enough to erase whatever lingering issues she had. Dex wasn’t as condescending as previous contractors: attraction aside, he was an apt listener, and offered gentle suggestions to her rebuttals. The conversation between them was less of superior vs. subordinate, and more of two managers trying to get on the same page of a project. And between words, they ate - finishing off dinner, and a rice pudding made with condensed sweetened milk and coconut on her suggestion. The dessert was a rich cap to a night that had started clumsily enough, but seemed to be ending on a positive note.

“So,” she licked her thumb, getting the last bit of sticky sweet rice from her face, “Agree to disagree - but ultimately, what I think has no bearing on your project and the long term outcome. I’ll have to be a gracious loser,” said with that work-sly-shy smile, the one that made it seem like she wasn’t supposed to let her guard down that much. A slice of an expression that could twist into a fuller smile or a frown just as quickly.

Back to square one.

Not like it was a bad thing - haste makes waste, and the last thing she needed was to get in more trouble. Maybe she was being paranoid, but it felt like there were eyes on her constantly at work, waiting for her to make some horrible mistake to either keep her grounded or to bump her to yet another babysitting gig.

As long as I keep my head down and toe the line, fake it till I make it, I can get out of this. And I was about to make a horrific mistake just because I was being petty and dumb. He’s attracted to you, you know that much, but how is it any different from when you were younger, and folks just wanted the pretty wrapping paper that you couldn’t even see was you? At what point do you stop needing reassurance that you’re a living, breathing, attractive woman, and when can you just…accept it and realize that it changes not all that much, other than people are always trying to get something from you? And a civilian, no doubt.

She waved the younger woman over, paid for the meal with a handful of crumpled, vibrant bills. A bit more than what the meal was actually worth, and a more than generous tip - with the exchange rates being in favor of the American dollar, it wasn’t much for Mahalo to splurge on eating out. If Dex had raised any protest, she’d quickly silence him with a good-natured, but firm, glance suggesting that she wouldn’t dream of it. But, to soothe his ego, she’d add, “I asked you out; it would’ve been rude not to pay.” Standing up and tucking in her chair, she tossed to him one more tidbit, “Next time, you can cover it.” A more open grin, still shy, unsure.




Walking outside, the evening air was still heavily humid, with only a whisper of a coolness from the ocean. This far inland and closer to the jungle, the air smelled of damp earth and sourness from too many humans in too small of a living space. “If you don’t mind…And you can say ‘no’, of course,” she was striding towards her scooter, speaking while not looking at him, “I was thinking of taking a more scenic route around back to your hotel. Give you a better lay out of the island. Might help with programming how to react to different terrain?” It was a shit excuse, but in her own limited understanding (still) of how his work came together, it made sense to her. “But as I said, you can say ‘no’ - and I’ll take you back the tried and true way.”

 

[ManlyUsername]

Dex can’t help watching Mahalo lick the last remnants of food from her fingers, and finishes off his second beer in preparation to leave as well. He hastily asks her how to say thank you in the local language, and when the young woman comes with the collect, he stumbles out something with only passing similarity to Mahalo’s instruction.

A perfunctory offer to cover the bill is made for the sake of politeness. Dex was not one to be emasculated by a woman who didn’t adhere to nineteen fifties standards of dating. Well, and this really isn’t a date, is it Dex. Another pang of regret over missed opportunities rises to the surface and is quickly quashed. But two words re-ignite the tiny spark deep in Dex’s brain that holds out hope. Next time

“Next Time, I like the sound of that.” It is said in a tone that allows plausible deniability. A friendly observation that you can’t really prove was hinting at the hope of something more.

It feels good to be out of the claustrophobic confines of the house turned restaurant. The heavy smells of smoke and spice are replaced with the more earthy dirt and damp, but it is not unpleasant and a welcome change from the city. When she offers to take the scenic route, Dex could not be more pleased.

“Absolutely! It may surprise you, but as much as I travel, I rarely get much time to really see the places I’m staying, beyond some dusty lab, or aircraft hangar.” He takes his place on the scooter behind her, and sets his hands on her hips. “I’d really like a chance to see the sights Mahalo.”

He realizes it is the first time he has had the nerve to call her by her first name, and it makes him oddly nervous. He'd also not been totally prepared to be this close to her again, and when she starts driving again, he feels suddenly emboldened and lets his arms wrap around her waist in a grip well beyond that needed to just keep from falling off.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

She shot him a smile - warmth that had finally broken through the professional and distant demeanor. Held out the helmet to him, and gently jiggled it up and down for him to take it.





She wasn’t kidding about the “Scenic Route.” Somehow, she made what typically would be a 15, 30 minute drive (depending on traffic) into one that was closing in on closer to 2 hours. It was at the 45 minute mark that she’d first stopped, checked in with him to see how he was doing, and then, she was throttling up the scooter and going again. She wove him through narrower and narrower streets, quieter and quieter neighborhoods that became ever growing distant pearls strung further and further apart on the necklace of the island. She skirted the deeper, more ominous trails into the jungle - seemed to dip in close enough to give them the feeling of being in the midst of the trees without fully being in them. And, as if by magic, the ocean would filter through, slicing through the darkness with moonlight flecked water.

Beginning to slow down, she brought the scooter to a rumbling cough of a stop, and she shifted, making sure the small kickstand was down. Pulling off her helmet, she elbowed him softly in the side. To their immediate left, the jungle dropped way into a white sand beach that glittered under the full moon. The ocean stretched out beyond that, miles and miles of an undulating ribbon.

“I found this,” she started quietly, “one evening when I was just driving around. Sometimes it pays to get lost. Though, to be fair, I’ve never gone that far into the jungle. There’s a lot,” she made a small grimace, “Out there that I don’t really want to get mixed up in. Poisonous snakes would be the least of your worries, you know?”

The breeze here was bright and chill, enough to bring goosebumps on their arms. However, this far away from the city center, all that the air would carry to them was the heavy scent of the salt water, the mud of the jungle - crushed greens, animal dung, flowers. “But sometimes it’s nice to get away. Take the risk.”

She let the words hang in the air, staring out at the beach far ahead of them and beneath them. "Let's get a closer look - I haven't gone all the way down there yet. Finding a good way down'll be part of the adventure." She put her helmet and goggles back on, and gestured for him to do the same.

While the uphill journey had been a gradual climb - so much so that it would be difficult to gauge how high up they'd gone -, the route down was fraught with a bit more peril. More than once the tires completely lost traction and spun out: the two of them stopping from being tumbled over by Mahalo's quick thinking. Though her words were muffled, more than one choice swear came from her, startled out by surprise and then laughter at her own folly. The whole thing appeared to be a giant adventure to her, even when they got a little too close to tumbling down a chasm. Still, they managed to make it down to the beach - and true to her earlier warning, both were covered with mud, sticks, leaves, and other various forest debris. Her hands were mud and oil spattered from having to stop and tinker with the scooter on occasion - but nothing a quick wipe on her jean shorts wouldn't fix.

Of course, it was all worth it.

And then some.

The beach was completely untouched - at least, in the moonlight. It could've been that there was a much easier path, swallowed up by the night, but hey, finding it was part of the adventure. She found a stable place to park the Vespa, and took off her helmet again, taking in a deep, deep breath of the ocean air.

 

[ManlyUsername]

He got off the moped a little slowly, rubbing his backside. “You know that’s fun for about the first half hour.” He gave her a sheepish grin, but the minor discomfort had been well worth it. The scenery of the island was intriguing and the farther off the beaten path, the more Dex felt like they were in some sort of jungle adventure movie. And truth be told, holding Mahalo in his arms, even with the decidedly not romantic bumping and jostling, had him feeling a little like a schoolboy who had gotten away with something.

Peeling off the helmet he made a futile effort to smooth his hair, then finally looked out over the beach. “Would you look at that.” His mouth was slightly agape as he took it all in. The salty breeze, cool and crisp, keeping the headier scents of the jungle in check. The moon lighting the darkness and dancing on the water like so many stars.

He set his helmet on the seat and said quietly. “This is definitely worth getting lost for. Mahalo, this is beautiful.” Walking out onto the beach, he kicked off his shoes, eager to feel the sand between his toes despite the chill. This was truly a hidden gem. “It’s a beautiful night for a walk.” He said looking back at her. “Can we stick around a bit?”

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“Of course we can’t stay here. All of that driving, that death-defying drive down the side of this mountain? We need to go.”

Her tone, her stance: both were the definition of serious. All she needed to do was add, “Move, solider!” to complete the image she was setting up. But no sooner had she really taken in his shocked expression that the small slip of a smile crossed her face. “I’m kidding,” she dead-panned. So Miss Military had a sense of humor after all. “The only caveat I’ve got is that we need to probably head back before we lose that,” she pointed to the moon. Being this far out, the lights of the city were faintly more than a memory. It illustrated further not only how far out that they were, but just how bright the moonlight was that they were able to see each other clearly.

“I don’t have a flash light with me - I know, I know - and the headlight on that scooter can be temperamental. As you saw.” She wouldn’t have to elaborate more: the headlight had flickered on and off with each massive bump that they went over. “But we’ve got some time. Might as well enjoy it.”

She flopped down onto the sand, following suit - removing her socks and boots. Barefoot now, she padded over to the water, letting it wash over her feet, before jumping back, her breath escaping her in a laugh. “God, that’s cold!” Colder than she would have expected - but still warmer than the breeze that was now more of a solid wind sweeping off the water. Leaning down, she splashed water over her hands, her forearms. Standing up again, she closed the gap between them. “I think we’ll be okay if we keep close to the water - and keep the bike in sight. If you want to go on that walk, that is.”

 

[ManlyUsername]

The seriousness of her initial rebuke catches him off guard. Once again he is left feeling like a school boy who has asked to have his dessert before dinner and been put in his place. Why even bring him here if she was so concerned. But being off balance was becoming the norm with Mahalo.

When it becomes clear she is kidding he breathes a sigh of relief. Humor was a rare gift in Mahalo’s repertoire which tended to oscilate more between sultry and severe and he felt it deep in his chest. He shook his head disapprovingly, but with a sarcastic smile as she did a quick run down of her preparedness, or lack thereof. “My Scout Master would not approve.”

As she wetted her arms and feet in the cold water, it was hard not to stare. Silhouetted in the moonlight, it was easy to imagine what must lay beneath her clothes. Her gentle curves were so natural. So...womanly, if that was even a word. Real in a way lacking in most of today’s celebrities and Instagram models.

So when she moved closer to him once more, his brain paused. ‘Hung’ would be the term Dex would use were he poking around inside his own brain, debugging the problem. Multiple threads and processes launching in his brain and immediately crashing when they tried to access resources outside there allocated process space.

The moonlight brightened her cheek, and cast deep shadows across her face, deepening her features, giving them an almost surreal quality. The reflection of the moon in her dark eyes were two tiny chips of brilliant light, beacons in the gathering darkness around them.

He wanted to touch her. To reach out and caress her face. To take her hand. To pull her into his arms and kiss her. But all of those courses of action had been predetermined as off limits. He felt lost in the absurdity of the situation. Here he was, in arguably the most romantic place he had ever been, with an achingly beautiful woman who had burrowed under his skin and become an itch in the back of his brain he could never quite ignore. A woman, no less, who had admitted to being interested in him.

But she hadn't admitted that had she? She’d said she was attracted to him. Said she’d thought about fucking him. Nothing more than that. Why did that leave a sour taste in his stomach? More importantly, she also said she’d changed her mind. Probably because Dex had been fawning over her like a love sick puppy. Not the most desirable trait in a one-night stand.

The thought made him grimace and he looked down at his feet to hide it. When he looked back up, after the awkwardly long pause, the switch had flipped. The smile was back on his face, and he finally replied to her.

“A walk would be wonderful.” He offered her his arm in a very old fashioned manner, taking on a much more formal tone, the hint of a grin belying his lack of seriousness.. “Now, Second Lieutenant Vaugh, my Nana, God rest her soul, would be very upset were I not to offer my arm to a fine young lady such as yourself for a walk in such dark and treacherous conditions.”

 

[Apollo Wilde]

If she noticed the change in his demeanor, she said nothing. It would be hard for her not to notice: so much of her job depended on reading body language - though, to be fair, it was much easier for her to take and parse out those unspoken cues when they didn’t involve her personal life. As it was, she could sense that something was off, but as to what, she wasn’t entirely sure. After all, she could be reading too much into it. The whole point of the post dinner talk was that they were going to start with a clean slate.

Yeah, but it doesn’t erase that you said all of that stuff before. Awkward. Why do I have to be like this?

“Your ‘Nana’, eh?” It was an old fashioned gesture, true, and the newer question of intimacy was met with some surprise. Not in a bad way…just something that caught her off guard. His arm was warm as she slipped hers through his, elbows locked round each other. Arm in arm, it greatly closed the distance between them, her side pressed to his. She ducked her head a bit, looking down at her bare feet in the surf, her boots and socks carefully set aside a few feet away. “Were you and her close?” She would bat away the compliments, uneasy with them - it would be easier to act as if he didn’t say anything. Regardless if it came off as rude or not; it was easier. And she wanted to know more about him - natural curiosity for the new creature in her realm.

And it wasn’t like she could stumble blindly into the whole divorce thing. It would, statistically, make sense: most people her age or older had been married, divorced, had kids or kids old enough to leave the house. She’d deftly managed to avoid all of those pratfalls, but at her age, it was something that could be a topic of gossip: what was wrong with her that she hadn’t even been in a long term serious relationship at her age?

“My grandmother was a monster,” she added, partially joking, partially serious. “Just mean and ornery. Probably why she’s still alive.”

 

[ManlyUsername]

"Well, I guess you come by it honestly then." He laughed and held up a hand immediately. "I'm kidding!"

Offering her his arm had been a mistake. He'd somehow convinced himself it was an innocent gesture. Cute. Endearing. But the truth was he just wanted to be close to her. He couldn't let it go. Not Completely. And now he was painfully aware of every centimeter where their bodies made contact.

"We're we close? Well sorta. Not really. Not the way we should have been once I grew up. We saw them a lot as kids. Gramps was the ornery one but I think he just played the part for Nana's benefit. He'd come in the room and give us the business for doing whatever it was kids got up to when they were bored in the old people's house. Then Nana would sweep in to the rescue, dismissing him with a wave or a roll of the eye, and then herd us into the kitchen for cookies or carmel rolls."

Dex's face lit up with the memory. "Oh my God Mahalo, you would not believe Nana's Carmel Rolls! I'm convinced the woman was a witch or something." Then the smile faded. "Then I grew up. Started my own life. Moved far away. And it got harder and harder to make time. I hadn't seen her in three years when she passed. I still regret that."

"She was truly a wonderful woman. Even when we started measuring the time between visits in years instead of months, she always managed to teach me something. One of her favorite sayings, especially when I was going on about how awful someone was, was 'Everybody has something to teach you. Whether it's on purpose, or just as an example of what you don't want to be'. She was a true people person. "

Dex felt himself opening up. He didn't want to open up. He didn't want to do anything to make him feel closer to Mahalo. At least that's what he kept trying to tell himself. The ship had sailed but he couldn't help swimming after it.

"Not like me. I like computers. There's a finite number of possible inputs. And they're all spelled out for you. And no matter how complex the operation, if you put in the same inputs, you get the same results. Every time." He paused for a moment, gazing out into the ocean. "People aren't like that. In fact the best way to lose a person is to keep giving them the same input over and over."

Dex realized he'd gotten a bit more melancholy than intended and forced the smile back into place. "Jesus, listen to me." "What about you and the monster? Were you close?"

He was anxious to take the attention off himself. He apparently didn't know how to close himself off from this woman, and he didn't trust himself to keep his composure. This was all getting too serious. As he listened to her reply, he began slowly and subtly veering father into the water as they talked.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

At his jibe, she actually pulled back, and looked at him with such a look of disgust that it would be enough to stop the two of them in their tracks. A glacial what did you mean by that that was instantly broken by a small, amused smile. She was teasing him again - if not for any other reason than she liked seeing him knocked off balance.

I think he actually likes me. He’s so scared of saying the wrong thing.

To show him that no true harm was done, she linked her arm tighter in his, pulling him closer to her in a brief, one armed hug before she let them naturally drift apart again. As he spoke, she listened partially - a “curse” of being military: though they were well isolated and the night was quiet enough where they were, she was still hyper aware of their surroundings. They were off the beaten path in an impoverished country; anything could happen. Though she had her doubts that anything would, it was best to be vigilant.

Not that her looking around would be obvious: a filtering of information, as it was. Tales of grandmotherly love mixed in with the sounds of the sea, the movement of the stars and moon above them.

“I always wondered what it was like to grow up in a functional family,” she said, as he wound down his story. There was a pause, as if she was going to continue, but then thought better of it. “It sounds like you two were actually very close. Almost something out of a movie,” another small grin, nudging him.

He’d been steering them closer to the water, and now, still linked arm and arm, the water coming up to mid-calf, she let her arm slip through his, and took a few steps forward into the surf, until the water came to her knees. She was careful not to go any further - but her mind seemed a million miles away. Weighing, assessing the information he’d given her.

He might be talking about his divorce - should I say something comforting, or let it go? It’s a sore spot - I don’t think I’ll be poking round that. The whole point was to make things better, not worse.

“Me and my monster…” She trailed off, pressing her tongue into the side of her cheek. “Grandma was just a mean old lady. I don’t think she wanted kids, and grandkids were a reminder that she had them.” It was clear that she wasn’t going to say more - talking about her plethora of siblings was one thing, about the meanness of that old woman was another. “Let’s change the subject,” she ventured, showing a bit more bravery. “So you like things predictable?” A cheeky smile then - before she knelt and suddenly sent a wave of water at him, splashing him.

 

[ManlyUsername]

“I always wondered what it was like to grow up in a functional family,” she said. Dex wasn’t sure how to respond. Such a simple statement, stated matter-of-factly, but there was no way there couldn’t be some sadness behind it. He wondered for a moment if she was actually opening up to him. But as was her way, she gave a momentary hint of being a vulnerable human and then just as quickly drifted away, back behind her emotional barriers.

This time she drifted away physically as well as conversationally, after a playful jab at his apparently painfully normal life that is. For the briefest of moments, he considered catching her hand as she let him go. He was loath to give up the closeness that they had been sharing up till now. But to do so would be to admit he wished that this were more than a casual stroll on the beach.

She began to speak of being unwanted by her Grandmother. Dex couldn’t help wondering if her parents had shared the same attitude. Or maybe her situation was even worse, maybe her parents weren’t in the picture. There was a level of unease it seemed anytime the conversation turned to family.

Is that why you are so reluctant to let anyone get close to you Mahalo? Are you afraid that if you let yourself want someone, for more than just a night, that they won’t want you back?

He wanted to comfort her in some way. Make her feel wanted. But how would he do that without it being perceived as utter romantic nonsense. He needed to do something to ease the weight that had fallen over the conversation. “Well, like I said earlier, Nana used to say…”

The water hit him full in the face and chest, cutting him off. Forcing his eyes closed as he tasted the salty brine on his tongue. He opened one eye slowly. What had she said? Something about liking things predictable? He had to admit, this was the last thing he had expected. “Predictable is the last word I would use to describe you. And up until now, I liked you okay.” He breaks into a full on grin before stooping to return fire with a splash of his own. Her second volley hits him about the same time as the next breath of sea wind brushing across the shore and the thought of the long ride home in wet clothes suddenly hits him.

“Hold up! Hold up! Hold up!” He holds his hands up in surrender. “Truce! It’s gonna be a long ride home if we get our clothes all wet.” He then gives a wistful look out into the ocean. She’ll never go for it. But It’s just a joke if she doesn’t right?

“But you know. A midnight swim in the ocean has been on my bucket list for a while.”

 

[Apollo Wilde]

No response other than her laughter - tried and true, no hiding behind formality here. Laughter that increased when he returned her wave with one of his own, a small shriek as she turned to the side to avoid the worst of it. She’d just returned it in full when she heard his call for a truce - and that actually brought her to a stop, though she still chuckled a bit. He’d gotten her pretty good: the side of her shorts, a good section of her overshirt.

“You’ve actually got a good point there,” she wiped extra water from her forehead, droplets still clung like crystal beads to the tips of her locs. “It’s warm enough out here, but it’ll get colder the longer we’re here on the ocean.” She wouldn’t have to make any additional gesture to the breeze, fed from the sea, that rolled upon them, invisible waves of cold. “But a midnight swim? That definitely seems non-binary of you.” A small smile, faded from the large laughter of before, but no less amused.

“If we keep close to the shore, I think we’ll be okay. Might give our clothes time to dry." She began unbuttoning her overshirt, wringing it out as she took it off. “We’ll have to move them further up, just to make sure that the tide doesn’t get them.” As she spoke, she was walking away from him, a bit further up on the shore. She seemed entirely unconcerned about how she was more or less stripping in front of him - overshirt, tank top, jeans. Underwear without the elicit suggestion of temptation - mismatched, actually, and wholly without frills. A plain black bra, gray bikini panties with purple trim. A pop of color against her night-darkened skin, a wavering beacon under the moonlight.

She undressed with the casualness of experience: shared locker rooms, quick changes between duties. A compact body - carved smooth by long hours of exercise and training. But still with the tell-tale curves of a woman: a generous bust that her clothes did much to downplay: breasts with little space between them that sat high on her chest, full and kept handily restrained by her bra. A defined stomach that graduated to softness near her navel, a bit of a "pooch" that even the most hardy of exercises couldn't erase, one that age gently added to. Rather than taking away from the leanness of her figure, it made her strangely approachable: proof that she was indeed, still human and not a statue crafted by the US government. Thickly muscled thighs, defined calves with muscles that sat high beneath the knee. The promise of running harder, faster, longer - jumping higher, than others.

“I’m not getting in all the way,” she admonished, almost as a second thought, “Because it’ll take forever for my hair to dry - and talk about a miserable ride back.” She gestured to her thick hair, the coils of her locs. As she did so, she took her hair down, shaking it down to her shoulders - before quickly looping it back round her hand, tying it up in a high bun. “But it’ll work better that way.” A small drop in tone as she visibly looked around, pausing for a moment to strain her ears. Surf. Nightbirds. Not even so much as the distant echo of the city. Good. All within the realm of expectation - and what she could deal with.

“I dunno if this is private property or not - I sincerely doubt it-” added in with a shrug, “But outside of the city and the base, it can get dangerous.” Before he could object, she held up a hand, reassuring him with a bright smile. “I don’t mind playing look out. Really. Especially if it’s to help a perpetual nerd like you cross something off your bucket list.”

 

[ManlyUsername]

Dex could not avoid staring at first as Mahalo began undoing the buttons of her shirt, so he was thankful when she turned to move farther up the shore to dry land. He had not dared dream she would actually play along. But then again should he be surprised. She rarely did what he expected. She was certainly bolder than him, at least on the surface. Her initial bravado however, seemed to often be followed by...what...a change of heart? Indecision? An intentional twist of expectations just to keep him on his toes? Dex would be much happier once he quit trying to figure this elusive woman out, but she had gotten under his skin and the need to know more had become a compulsion.

He followed closely behind, watching as she shed clothing one item after another. A moment’s disappointment but no surprise when she stopped at a bra and panties. Still more than he had hoped to see. A body built not for show but for performance. Toned and well muscled, but not the sculpted perfection of hollywood. Her body was perfectly imperfect. Dex tore his eyes with some effort from the powerful curves flexing beneath the grey panties when she turned back to him.

He nodded in understanding of her concerns for her hair. “Well we certainly don’t want that.” but he was concentrating much harder at not staring at her breasts as they were thrust forward while she began tying her hair back. She seemed very at ease to be in such a state of near undress in his presence. Boldness?, or was she simply immune to any of the sexual tension that was currently eating away at Dex’s brain?

He finally realized he was still fully clothed, and he was suddenly unsure of himself. Self conscious about his own appearance, in comparison. Dex had been told he ‘looked good for his age’, but Mahalo was considerably younger, and that phrase now did little to boost his confidence. However, her casual aire paired with her level of physical exposure was making him bold.

He quickly pulled his shirt over his head, revealing well toned arms and shoulders and a stomach that was far from ripped, but was flat with just a hint of love handles at his hips. The shorts came next. Dex spent a good deal of time on the bike at the gym, it being easier on his knees, so he felt less self conscious about his legs.

All that remained was a snug fitting pair of boxer briefs that left little to the imagination and nicely accentuated an ass that looked like it belonged to a man ten years his junior. He thanked the cool wind for tempering what might have otherwise been some considerable swelling, but watching Mahalo strip had not been completely without effect even in the breeze.

She finished her very practical warnings with a shot that Dex was not sure he should take as a good natured jab, or some sort of taunt. “Especially if it’s to help a perpetual nerd like you cross something off your bucket list.”, she said in her usual fashion. Deadpan. Leaving him guessing at the appropriate interpretation.

Coming from the younger Mahalo, the statement made him feel old. Like moments like this were for younger generations, not old men trying to cling to youth. He chose to take it as a dare. He turned to walk away from her, back toward the surf and said over his shoulder, “Well, if this Nerd is gonna start checking stuff off his bucket list…” He bent and in one quick motion, stripped his briefs off as well. “I don’t want any asterisks on my record.”

Tossing the undergarment over his shoulder he bounded out into the low waves and dove head first into the surf.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

Oh. Oh my.

Her brows raised as he removed the last bit of clothing. And she stood back, crossing her arms, biting her lower lip to hide her surprise. Her assessment of his handsomeness extended to his body.

He’s in good shape for a civilian.

He had a few years on her, sure - maybe ten, but she wasn’t a young thing right out of college. She was older as well, knew it by how she couldn’t eat quite the same that she wanted to, and going to bed earlier than later had way more appeal than it used to. But still - impressive for not just his age, but his job.

“Well, you don’t look like you’re punching keys all day,” it was said laughingly, hopefully with her appreciation showing through. She’d wanted to say more, but thinking that it could skirt the edges of being professional - not like seeing him naked was the height of propriety- she kept her comment to herself. I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers, the thought made her smile a bit wider.

“In for a penny, in for a pound, then,” she reached behind her back, unhooking her bra and removing it in two smooth gestures in that indescribable manner that all women had when divesting themselves of their underwear at the end of a long day. Just as causally, she bent over briefly, stepping out of her panties. Facing him, now as bare as him, she had a bit of a sheepish smile, the faintest flicker of embarassment there. Of considering that maybe this was a step too far, but being too prideful to want to stop. Folding her panties, she tried to keep talking, if anything, to ease the quivering in her stomach.

“I’m still playing look-out.” Bra and panties set beside her clothing further up on the shore, she nearly ran over to them, before lightly jogging back to the water’s edge. The only thought she gave to her nudity was a quick cupping of her breasts as she jogged, hoping to cut down on their movement. Seal slick brown skin, a neat rectangle of tight black curls between her legs, her bikini line bare. The rectangle melded into the cleft of her sex, water already caught there and shining in the moonlight. She deposited herself in the water to her waist, then crouched, so that the water came up to her neck. She reached up to ensure that her hair was mostly out of the way of the waves. Back to him again, with a cheeky shy grin. “Go swim, ya nerd.”

 

[ManlyUsername]

Looking back to acknowledge her playful taunts, he stopped dead in his tracks. Her breasts were bare, and her panties were well on their way to being off as well. The sight was surreal in the dim light. The boyhood thrill of the first glimpse of the neatly manicured hair between her legs. A quickenint of his pulse as she entered the water, the droplets highlighted against her dark skin, like tiny crystal reflections of the moonlight.

He wanted her.

“Go swim, ya nerd.”, said with a grin. Cooling the fire growing in Dex's belly.

"Yes ma'am!" He replied with a laugh, and dove back into the waves. The surf was exhilarating. He paddled himself away from shore just far enough to let each subsequent wave push him back. It felt good to exert himself but it grew old fast.

After a minute or so of this he laid back and let an incoming wave carry him back toward Mahalo. He wanted to be close to her again. He somewhat awkwardly gained his feet, and stood to his full height, the waves now lapping at his waist. The night was too perfect. The situation was one that was never likely to repeat itself. He couldn't live with himself if he just did nothing.

"You know, " he said, moving to stand in front of her. "A man can only have so much fun playing with himself." A mischievous and boyish grin as he swatted a small splash of water at her chest. Then he looked her in the eye and reached out his hands, his voice going a bit softer. "Come play with me. "

 

[Apollo Wilde]

She grinned, watching him swim. Strong strokes - not something she would have expected. Nice all the same. Scooting a bit up the surf, she sat, folding her arms across her knees. She was still mostly submerged, with the water coming up to her waist, her breasts covered by her folded arms and legs.

I’m totally going to have sand up my twat. Worth it, though. He seems so happy. Even if I fumbled all of this going in, at least I can say I half-assed saved it. So all in all, not a bad turn of events!

As he drifted back to her, she shifted, wondering if she should stand - but decided against it. Looking up at him, she leaned back, planting her hands in the sand behind her and stretching out her legs. The water lapped at her navel, covering her legs, but leaving her upper body exposed.

“Would if I could,” a grin, not wanting to look into the potential double entendre of his words. “But like I said, I have to keep a look out. We’re not in Miami, you know.” Firm under the lightness of her words: he was in her care, and she took that seriously. “But if you’re getting tired…” She took his outstretched hands, using him as leverage to help her stand, “We can start heading in.”

How was it that she managed to be nonchalant, completely nude, hands in his? Even she wasn’t entirely sure. She felt…uneasy. Something at the back of her neck, that spurred her into wanting to cut this short.

It’s just a feeling.

Yeah, but those feelings are what stand between life and death.

I don’t want to scare him by jumping at shadows.

But rarely had her senses been wrong. Behind them, there was a low rumbling in the depths of the jungle. The chugging of a diesel truck, sounded, like - and she let go of his hands, turning to face the noise. Without the benefit of night vision goggles and this far down, it was impossible to make out what kind of truck it was, other than it was mid-sized, and that was a haphazard guess from the sound.

“Odd.” She was wading out of the surf now, long purposeful strides towards her clothes. Snaps of her wrists to shake sand out of her panties and her bra. Bending over, she pulled her panties on, taking a second to straighten them out at her hips. “I don’t like the sound of that. It could be nothing,” she added over her shoulder as she eased her breasts back into her bra, “But I’d rather us get going to make sure that it is nothing.”

I didn't think there was any sort of road through that part of the jungle. Her face turned grim as she continued to dress. But it’s dark out, and my scooter’s hardly worth a damn in the daylight, let alone conditions like this. Whoever it is, they probably figured it’d be safer to keep to back roads, and that can mean a lot of different things.

Though her jean shorts were still damp, she’d deal with it. “Let’s get going.”

 

[ManlyUsername]

The polite refusal was no surprise, but the casual show was not what he expected either. So at ease with her body on display. Her breasts almost taunted him. The elusive prize in the claw machine that you could look at but likely never touch.

Was Dex just that old fashioned? He supposed it was sort of an Americanism to assign so much significance to being naked with another person. Just another example of his foolishness this evening.

Something in her demeanor changed. She became suddenly serious; cautious. To Dex's credit, by the time she turned back to look at him, he too was already half dressed. He had spent enough time with military personnel, on flight lines, firing ranges, that when they said it was time to move, he took no time to question.

Instead of peppering her with questions, he instead became hyper attentive, immediately complying with every request. Like her, his head was on a swivel, only he had no idea why or what he was looking for.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

His attentiveness didn’t go unnoticed.

A silent gesture for him to follow her as she headed up the beach, back towards the scooter. Getting it started was a bit of a task: she’d expected the stubborn thing to give her some grief upon starting after the trek through the “roads” in the jungle. Still, under the moonlight, and grease covered hands later, she was able to get it started again with little less than a ghost of a growl and a hiccup of diesel exhaust. Scrubbing the worst of the grease from her hands with sand, she waved for Dex to get on.

The ride back was tense: the air was thicker, harder to drive through. Her body was stiff beneath his grasp, her head seemingly focused straight ahead. It wasn’t hard to follow the truck, if one knew how and where to look. Deep tire grooves cut into soft earth. Broken branches. Their path down to the beach had been a convoluted one: the night and the newness of it, combined with a rare, impulsive side of Mahalo meant that they had indeed cut something of a brand new trail through the jungle. There had been a road all along: not a well kept one, and more of a shadow of its former clarity, but a road nonetheless. Once they managed to get to it, following the truck became much easier. The noise of the bike was drowned out by the grumbling belches of the truck as it protested wading through the jungle, but Mahalo was careful to follow at a distance, slowly, still keeping to the side of the road.

I can’t tell what kind of truck this is. Too dark. Not going to risk causing some sort of international incident by forcing them to pull over, either. I’m sure it’s nothing, but better safe than sorry.

If she was able to drive alongside it, that would dispel the “mystery” shortly - and her patience would hold out. Jungle thinned, slowly, haltingly. The truck slowed as well, destination in sight. Rather than pull behind the truck, she veered more off the road, back into the jungle, to provide a bit of cover. Killing the engine, she paused, before taking off her helmet and googles to peer through the dark greenery.

“It’s a village,” the hiss of leaves as she pushed them out of the way. She’d known about the less touristy side of the island, the ones that fed into the ongoing guerrilla war. And for the most part, they’d kept to themselves: none of them wanting to draw a large target on their backs. The villages were marked by poverty - those that were lucky were able to get jobs in the city, and, unable to make the daily commute of hours back and forth, simply stayed in cheap accommodations tucked away in the city center and sent money back home. The truck, now at a stop, began to leak people. People carrying large packages - conversations starting. Things she was unable to catch. A small beacon of light on the side: a red cross.

A bitten off chuckle from her. “It’s an aid truck - probably got lost trying to find this place,” how had she been so paranoid?

Wait.

Where had that light come from?

Bright light, then, the air shaking impact of an explosion. It was only through intense years of muscle memory that her body acted before her brain could register what was happening. She knocked Dex to the ground, using her scooter as cover. The massive roar of flame sparking to life and the impact of the missiles would reach them split seconds later, in an ear drum and death rattling explosion.

 

[ManlyUsername]

The playful atmosphere, once humming with possibilities, had now become heavy with tension. Relegated to holding a light for the much more mechanically inclined Mahalo, Dex felt useless as she pulled and twisted at various bits of the scooter eventually coaxing it to life. The tension only grew as she followed the mysterious vehicle through the darkness.

It seemed a hazardous exercise to pursue god knows who into the bowels of the jungle, but Mahalo’s demeanor made questioning the decision seem even more hazardous. The tension in her body was palpable as the tiny scooter struggled along the uneven dirt track. He wanted to ask her what the plan was, but was afraid to raise his voice enough to carry over the sound of the engine. Instead he simply held on for dear life as they were tossed about on the deeply rutted road.

He should have been thrilled when they eventually pulled off the road, but Mahalo seemed more cautious than ever. He was suddenly and painfully aware of just how isolated they were. If anything happened there would be no calling for help. No police to come to their rescue. Had Dex taken the time to think about it, he might have been embarrassed by his own cowardice, but at the moment he was too focused on remaining in the perceived safety of Mahalo’s shadow.

He could hear the voices and a few tiny specs of light but refrained from risking discovery by parting the foliage as Mahalo was. “It’s a village.” she said quietly. Should that be relieving? Weren’t there guerillas out here? Guerillas probably had their own villages right? Then her face relaxed, “It’s an aid truck.”

Dex wasn’t sure where he was when he came to his senses. He had a vague memory of Mahalo knocking him down, before the world went white and he woke up here. The foliage was considerably thinner, and the light of a dozen tiny fires covered everything in flickering yellow light. Everything was covered in dirt and the dusty smoke filling the air stung his nose.

A hand grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. Mahalo yelled something at him and began moving away. Dex took a few steps forward and simply froze.

 

[ManlyUsername]

[OOC: Thread Closed. It was fun Apollo.]