Texas Nights - Book 13 of the Damned of the 2/19th

Stupid Dreams

15th FSB Barracks
Fort Hood, Texas
CONUS
27 May, 1992
1900 Hours - Wednesday

I knocked on Stillwater's door, carrying a bottle of Wild Turkey. Two months had gone by since Stillwater had put a gun to my face, a month since he'd gotten back from NTC. Chuck and I had put back together our relationship. He'd taken it as a minor spat, a misunderstanding, and had nearly forgotten about it when I got back from NTC.

To be honest, I hadn't forgotten, and I knew it would be a while until I completely forgave him.

Since NTC we'd eased off the hard training, mainly sticking to using Thursday Training to train them on tasks we'd already worked on, to ensure that the skills we'd taught stuck and to train new people to the unit in the tasks. Unlike the way it ran before, we even had E-4's teaching classes. Alpha and Charlie both had laterally promoted some Specialists to Corporal and put them in charge of squads and permanent work crews.

Stillwater had left twice, gone for a few days, then returning without saying where he'd been. Both times he'd had minor injuries, both times I'd had to check him out at the TMC under PRP medical protocols. He didn't talk about how he received the injuries, just got treatment for it.

He'd vanished on Friday, had come back earlier today. I'd cleared him medically. For once he just had bruising, but he'd had "that look" that I'd seen him come back with.

But I knew the cure.

A bottle of Wild Turkey, a carton of cigarettes, and camaraderie.

Stillwater answered the door, smiling. He had his eyepatch on, a new one with the First Cav logo on it, his old blue with gold trim PT shorts on, and a pair of socks. He had is contact back in, so it was startling to see him without glasses again. Since the auto-wreck, he'd moved to wearing a glasses with the left lens almost black instead of wearing the eye patch with the glasses.

"Suckup," I said, tapping under my left eye to refer to his eyepatch. That made him laugh. I lifted the bottle and he smiled wider. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," he said, hitting the light switch. "Wanna kick back on the bed?"

"Pervert," I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed. We went in, Stillwater closing the door, and I moved over to his fridge, pulling out a chilled glass, his ice tray, and a can of Pepsi. "How much do you want?"

"Three fingers," He said. I heard the bed squeak behind me.

"Like 'em loose, eh?" I laughed. He laughed too, and I poured him the drink before putting everything away. I grabbed a can of Pepsi for myself, then walked over and handed him the drink. "Here, champ."

"Thanks," He took the drink, took a long swallow off it, and sighed, shifting position.

I sat down, then laid onto his lap, looking up at him. He was still warm, hot against my skin, and I squirmed a little to get comfortable. I looked up at him, seeing him looking down at me and sighed in contentment.

"You doing OK? Any post mission problems?" I decided to get it out of the way right away.

He shook his head. "It was boring, to be honest. I mean, they were lucky they had me with them, but it was pretty boring on the scale of JSOC runs," he told me. "Spent more time on the choppers and on the planes than we did on the ground."

I reached up and squeezed his shoulder. "I'm glad."

"How are you and Chuck doing?" He asked me, resting his hand on my stomach.

I ignored the butterflies it gave me.

I shrugged. "We're doing OK. How about you and Captain Jane?"