Lewis felt foolish as she trailed behind the two other women. She had on makeup, a loose blouse, tight jeans, tennis shoes, and, of all damn things, leg-warmers like it was three years ago. Both the women in front of her had jelly bracelets on their wrists, something Lewis absolutely refused to wear. Their hair, like Lewis's was teased out and feathered, something Lewis knew had gone out of fashion two years before.
Not that either of the other women had paid attention to her protests.
Miranda just swung open the door yelling: "You, man-slave, convey us to the nearest establishment that serves up hard alcohol and hard cocks!" she shouted.
"Oh for fuck's sake," She heard Patch groan.
"Who the fuck?" Another voice that Lewis recognized as !!!PFC!!! James Roberts, Distinguished Honor Graduate of Basic Training and AIT (DUN DUN DUN!) and all around high speed low drag next Sergeant Major of the Army doncha know.
"It is I, Queen Miranda Stokes, Goddess of Amazons and She Who's Thighs Crush Men's Skulls," Miranda said, stomping into the middle of the room. "With my faithful minions, Fat-Girl and Bobbi Cocksmythe!"
Lewis about burst about laughing when Heather stepped up behind her and blew a kazoo, tossing out a handful of glitter at Patch, who jerked back.
"Oh, goddamn it, you bitches, that's going to take me forever to clean up!" Patch yelled.
Heather and Miranda started laughing, watching as Patch jumped off the top bunk and landed with a thud, his knee brace creaking.
"You two drunk already?" Patch grumbled.
"Nope, just really jazzed up to go to the club," Miranda said.
"We miiiight have done a few shots," Lewis giggled.
"Come on, Bobbi, line up, just like we practiced," Heather said, nudging Miranda.
Lewis looked worried, but moved anyway, moving up between the two other women. They grabbed the bottom of their shirts, facing Patch, who stopped and cocked his head, frowning.
"What?" He started.
"Payment for the ride, duh," Miranda said. "NOW!"
All three women pulled up their shirts, making Patch blush and turn away, raising his hand.
"Goddamn it, I can get in trouble for that shit," he said.
Lewis realized the other two had pulled their breasts from their bras, letting everything hang out.
"Oh, come on, Tony, don't be like that," Heather said, tucking everything back away. "You know we're only joking."
"Colonel Henry said he's cracking down on that kind of shit. I can get in real trouble," Patch said.
"Nobody forced anyone to do that," Miranda said, tugging on the tops of the cups of her bra to settle herself into it.
Lewis was giggling, having an easier time getting her breasts put away. "You two were right, he turns bright red."
In a way, Lewis couldn't believe she'd done that. The other two women had sworn Patch would turn bright red and freak out, and that it would be funny, but she hadn't really believed them.
The thrill, the rush of what had just happened made Lewis tingly all over.
"Dammit, stop teaching the newbies shit like that," Patch said, picking up his denim jacket. Lewis noticed that it had a set of spikes on black leather attached to each shoulder. When he shrugged into it she could see the black patch that covered the entire back of the jacket. Iron Maiden's The Trooper album cover. His hair was spiked, but Lewis could still see the two cowlicks.
"You coming, Roberts?" Patch asked, buttoning up his denim jacket.
Roberts shook his head. "No."
"Your loss," was all Patch said, heading toward the door.
Lewis felt kind of glad he wasn't coming. For the entirety of AIT Roberts had hit on her, but eventually her ignoring it all had paid off and he'd stopped. She'd been kind of nervous about exposing her breasts in front of Roberts, knowing good and damn well what he'd do, but the other two women had made sure their backs were to him when they flashed Patch.
Roberts turned away, angry at the fact that the three women had barged into his room. It was bad enough that several people, including Patch's older brother, had barged in since lunch to talk to him, but now these three women were acting like it was there room.
"Don't wait up. Anyone asks, I'll be back sometime Sunday night or Monday morning," Patch said. He opened up a drawer, took out a beeper, and clipped it to his belt, pressing the button to check the battery. "I've got my beeper."
"Fine," Roberts said, staring at his book.
"Don't fuck with my computer," Patch reminded him for the ten thousandth time.
"I won't, I won't, jeez," Roberts said.
"Come on, stud, let's get on the road," Miranda said. "I'm hungry."
"The word is: horny," Patch laughed as he headed for the door.
"Hungry, horny, poe-tait-tow, poe-taht-tow," Miranda laughed. "Either way, it's brought to you by the letter H."
"Someone needs to teach you the difference," Heather snickered.
"We need to hurry before all the guys with big dicks get scooped up," Miranda laughed. Lewis giggled at Miranda's blatant aggressiveness as they walked out the door.
Roberts was glad when the door shut. The three women had instantly annoyed him by barging into the room. He sighed and looked at the glitter on the floor and on the bottom bunk. He just knew that Patch was going to yell at him for it.
In the hallway the four walked toward the Middle Stairwell.
"Why don't we take the other stairwell?" Lewis asked, pointing at the far end.
"Bad luck," Patch grunted, digging out cigarettes.
"Oh," Lewis said. "I'll remember that."
Heather put her arm around Lewis's shoulders. "That's Momma's good girl," She said. "Ant here's survived some of the worst shit anyone in this unit's seen. Take his advice."
Lewis nodded, feeling a little buzzed. While they weren't drunk, they'd each done two shots once the makeup was done, the two other women teaching Lewis a way to tap the shot-glass on the table or bar that was pretty complex but she was pretty sure she had it.
Lewis had never been in an actual bar before, and was looking forward to it as they went down the stairs.
"Ant, you gotta sign out, remember?" Miranda said when they left the stairwell.
"Oh, dammit," Ant swore.
"Language," Heather said primly.
Lewis snickered.
"MALE ON THE FLOOR!" Patch yelled, pushing past the double-doors.
"Eek, my virtue!" a black girl squealed playfully, walking back to her room in slippers and a nightgown, a towel wrapped around her hair. "Where you going?"
"Goose in Fulda," Miranda said as they passed by each other.
"Watch out for monkeys, Ant," The black girl called out.
"Har-dee-fucking-har-har," Patch growled, making the black girl laugh as she went into her room.
Lewis noticed that Patch, Heather, and Miranda seemed, if not popular, at least on friendly terms with a lot of people. She thanked her lucky stars for the fact that she didn't have a sneaky backstabbing room-mate like she had had at Redstone.
When Patch pushed into the CQ Area he walked up to the desk, staring over it.
"Hey, you guys need to log me out," He said.
"Why? You going to the zoo for a rematch?" Someone said.
"Yeah, you're a fucking comedian. Sign me the fuck out," Patch growled.
"Language."
"You going past the fifty-mile mark?" The hidden guy asked.
"Going to Fulda," Patch said.
Miranda leaned over the counter. "Unless you want to be my next meal."
"Jesus, calm down, Stokes," The voice said. "All right, you're logged. Got your beeper, Sergeant?"
"Got it," Patch said, slapping the bottom of his denim vest.
"All right, you're good. Lieutenant Masters said Third Magazine Platoon can go past the 50 mile limit," the voice said.
"Later, Conner," Patch said, tossing a wave and limping toward the exit.
"Let me get the door before you get attacked by Jason Vorhees or something and it ruins our trip," Heather said.
To Lewis it was strange, walking in between the two women, both of whom were so much taller than her. They looped their arms in hers, swinging their arms back and forth.
"Why the kazoo?" Lewis asked.
Miranda laughed and Heather chuckled. Lewis missed the fact that Patch's ears turned red.
"Whenever Ant and his siblings got in too much trouble, his dad used to make all the boys and the tougher girls pull his car with ropes, while the younger girls or the girls who were like cheerleaders and stuff had to sit on the hood and the roof with their pom-poms," Heather laughed.
"Oh, and the best part, was the younger ones, who usually weren't in trouble and thought it was a fun game, would jump out of the car at the High School and run in front of the car, blowing on kazoos," Miranda said, laughing.
"Man, fuck you guys," Patch grumbled, stopping at the black muscle car.
Heather tried to say "Language" but was giggling too hard.
Lewis started laughing as Patch unlocked the car, scowling at the three of them.
"It's not funny," Patch grumbled, getting in.
"It is when it wasn't you," Miranda giggled.
"Shotgun!" Lewis called out.
"Whoever rides shotgun has to blow him," Heather said, pulling open the passenger. "By all means, have at it."
Lewis stopped, turning pale and flushing at the same time. "I, er, uh..."
Heather laughed. "Kidding. Wow. Just kidding."
"Oh," Lewis felt stupid. With all the "gay-chicken" that went on between Miranda and Heather she should have known that something like that had been just teasing.
"WAIT UP, SLUTS!" A woman shouted, running from the far exit.
"Oh shit, it's Wizzy," Heather laughed. "Get in, hurry up, we'll make her ride shotgun!"
Lewis let Heather push her into the wide back seat, almost face planting into Miranda's backside, but managed to sit down just in time for Heather to slid in next to her and pull the door shut.
The other girl ran up, stopping and panting. "Dammit, spent too much time at Graf," she leaned over, hacking for a moment. "Oh, dammit, I got shotgun."
"Yup, you get to suck all the dick!" Miranda said.
"No she doesn't," Patch said. Lewis could see that his face was bright red. "Get in before someone else wants to come along."
"I'm not sure whether to spray you with a fire extinguisher or get a med-bag," Wizzy laughed, shoving at him as she slammed the door.
"All of you can blow me," Patch said, firing up the engine.
"Oh, oh, me first," Miranda said, acting like she was going to climb between the bucket seats.
"Get back there, you Midwest gorilla," Patch said, shoving her back.
"Ack, don't touch my hair!" Miranda said, sitting back.
"You're room mate is a dick, by the way, Ant," Wizzy said as Patch pulled out of the parking space.
"I noticed," Patch grumbled. He pulled a pack of cigarettes and a Zippo out of his jacket pocket. "You're smoke bitch."
Wizzy just nodded, pulling out two cigarettes, lighting them, then giving one to Patch. She put the pack and lighter in a cassette slot on the console then cracked the window.
"I went up to your room to see if you were heading out to the Goose or the Zwi, and when I asked if you were there he just slammed the door in my fucking face," Wizzy said. When Heather went 'language' she just absently waved a hand at the other woman. "That shit's fucking rude." She waved her hand again and Heather's protest.
"Hey, Bobbi, do you know him? He came in on the same draw as you," Heather said.
Lewis nodded right as Wizzy turned around. The other woman had a heart-shaped face, curly brown hair, and dark blue eyes that she'd surrounded with glittery silver. Wizzy stuck her hand back. "Sandra Olewicz, but everyone just calls me Wizzy."
"Bobbi Lewis," she said, shaking the other woman's hand. Lewis noticed that like Miranda and Heather, her hands were rough and callused.
"I was in Third Mag, but they transferred me to Operations Platoon last month," Wizzy said, turning around.
"Why?" Lewis asked.
"Over my radiation level, Henley says I gotta cool off before my bones glow in the dark," She laughed. "Personally, I'm hoping for a cool mutant power."
"Wish for smaller tits since you're making wishes," Miranda laughed.
"I know, right?" Wizzy laughed. "Ooh, they finally got Wurzburg to sign off on my surgery!"
"Congratulations!" both the other women said at once.
"Could you not scream in my goddamn ear?" Patch complained, slowing the car down to a crawl to make a corner.
"Surgery for what?" Lewis asked.
"Sex change. Gonna get me a big ol' whopping dick," Wizzy laughed. "No, no. Breast reduction," she patted her chest. "These things are going to kill me. I can't even do pushups."
"How bad has it gotten?" Heather asked, leaning forward.
"F cup. I'm a goddamn 34-F. I blame all this fucking PT. Oh, shush," The last part was directed at Heather.
"Probably the radiation," Miranda said.
"My back hurts all the time too," Wizzy complained. "I lay on my back I feel like I'm going to smother or something."
"Funny thing was, when she got here, she was a little B cup," Heather snickered. "Now check her out, Queen of the F-Cups."
"I look like a fool," Wizzy said. "None of my tops fit, my bras might as well be made of canvas, and they're about as sexy as a cratered head wound."
Patch leaned forward, pushing a cassette into the deck, and music cut off any chance at talking for a little while. When he'd smoked his cigarette down, he handed it to Wizzy, who put it out in the ashtray. Once the two of them were done, Miranda and Heather lit cigarettes.
They had to stop at the gate leading onto Main Post, Patch having to show he was carrying his beeper and everyone showing their ID so they could be logged as leaving. They flashed flashlights in the back seat, despite the fact it was daylight, and even made Patch pop the trunk so they could look inside.
"You're safe, we checked, no monkeys," The guard, an E-6 according to the rank on his helmet and by the name of Zachary by the elastic strap on his helmet brim, told Patch with a big grin.
"I'll monkey you," Patch growled, starting the vehicle up again. He peeled out, deliberately showering the other NCO with water and mud.
"Asshole!" Zachary yelled, but Lewis could see his smile.
Everyone was quiet as they drove off main post, but as soon as Patch hit the main road he gunned it, turning down the stereo.
"Where do you want to stay?" Patch yelled.
"The usual place," Miranda said. "I like it there."
"We've got a newbie with us, she might not like that," Patch said.
"Like what?" Lewis asked, knowing they were talking about her.
"It's one room. A couple of beds. It's got a bathroom and a balcony and it's pretty cheap," Patch shrugged.
"It's gets pretty sweaty," Miranda grinned.
"Why there? Why not separate rooms?" Lewis asked.
"It's close to the clubs, it has a back door, and privacy screens between the bed, a private bathroom, and a balcony overlooking a fenced garden," Miranda said.
"Don't separate, Bobbi," Heather said. "After what happened this winter, we don't separate, you better get used to that right now."
Lewis frowned. "What happened?"
Wizzy turned around. "The KGB killed a bunch of people in our unit. Caught them alone, or with their families. Killed spouses, kids, even babies in the crib or in their mother's arms. Shot my squad leader, his wife, and his six month old baby while they were sleeping."
"Oh my God," Lewis gasped, putting her hand to her mouth.
"Doesn't care about Special Weapons," Patch growled, shifting smoothly as he passed a small German car.
"So, yeah, we kind of stay together," Heather said, shrugging. "Sorry, I mean, if you want, you can just cover your ears while all of us do our thing."
Lewis shook her head. "No, no, I get it. Holy shit."
Lewis thought about it and figured she'd just get drunk enough that she'd just fall into bed and go right to sleep. She looked at the three women in the car, wondering if they'd let someone fuck her if she was passed out, then at Patch.
No. No way. Not from what they've said about him. Lewis thought.
"Wondering if we'd let some dude fuck your while you're passed out?" Heather asked suddenly.
Lewis jumped, looking at the other woman. She gulped and nodded.
"Nope. Not a chance. Number one, that's a shitty thing to do to someone. Number two, you're on my crew, which means my life depends on you, Bobbi. You'll see once you spend a week at Atlas," Heather said. She leaned forward and kissed Bobbi's cheek.
Bobbi Lewis blushed, putting her hand on her cheek, and looked at Heather, her mouth open slightly.
Heather laughed. "No, Bobbi, I'm not like that. That shit sailed a long time ago. I'm straight," She said, shaking her head.
Lewis relaxed slightly, still feeling buzzed.
"Hey, you got any hootch up here?" Miranda suddenly asked.
"Under Wizzy's seat," Patch said, slowing down for a stop-light.
Heather leaned down, coming up with a bottle of amber liquid. She uncorked it, took a long pull off of it, and handed it to Miranda.
"Salut," Miranda said, then took a long swallow off of the bottle. "Christ, Tony, you brew this yourself?"
"Shut up," Patch said, hitting the blinker.
"None for you, Bobbi, you're looking plenty buzzed as it is. Don't wanna throw up all over the cock you're trying to suck," Miranda laughed, handing the bottle back to Heather, who corked it.
"You gonna get laid?" Miranda asked Patch, leaning forward to slap his shoulder.
"I don't know, depends on my luck," Patch said, slowing down for another stop light. "Why are you so worried about it?"
Miranda shook her head. "I am. I gotta keep on eye on you, champ. We're both First Twenty, we rode up to the barracks together."
"I'm not seventeen any more, Miranda, I can take care of myself," Patch growled. To Lewis it sounded like a long running argument.
"Take off the brace and walk across the gauthaus room without limping or pain, Tony, and I'll be your fuck doll all weekend. Any hole you want, as much as you want. Hell, I'll even let you fuck me without a condom right in my twat," Miranda said.
Patch flushed, making it obvious he was ignoring her.
"That's what I thought," Miranda said, folding her arms and leaning back on the bench seat.
"I'm fine. Surgery's just being... delayed," Patch grumbled.
"This goes on much longer, I'm going to operate on your leg," Heather said. "We'll just do it out at Atlas. I'll remove the debris and shit, see if I can reattach the tendons and ligaments, and you gimp around on it till Wurzburg gets off its ass."
"Drop it," Patch growled.
Heather crossed her arms, sticking her lower lip out. To Lewis it had the feeling of an argument that had been going on for some time. She'd seen Patch walk, and he kept dragging his left leg like he couldn't quite get it to work right.
She wondered just how badly it was damaged and how.
Maybe the monkey broke his knee?
"Why did we leave so early?" Heather asked, her voice still petulant.
"Because otherwise I was going to throw my goddamn room-mate through the fucking window," Patch growled.
"He irritating you that much, honey?" Miranda asked, reaching forward and rubbing his shoulder's gently. Lewis noticed that Wizzy lit another cigarette, handed it to Patch, then turned down the radio.
"No, nevermind, it's nothing," Patch said, his ears turning red.
"It's just he's not Johnny," Miranda said gently.
"Oh, come on, it's not like I'm mad at him for marrying Pru and moving into housing," Patch said.
"No, but are you sure you're not measuring your new room-mate against Johnny? You guys lived together for like four years. There's marriages that don't last that long," Miranda said.
Patch shook his head. "It isn't that. I'm just grouchy today."
"He's a dick," Lewis suddenly said. She made an "eep" noise and covered up her mouth.
All three of the other women looked at her, Wizzy turning in the bucket seat.
"Really?" Heather asked.
Lewis nodded, her hands still over her mouth.
"So it isn't just Tony going all Atlas Ant on him?" Miranda asked gently.
Lewis shook her head.
"See, Tony, it isn't just you. Bobbi here went to AIT with him," Miranda said, gently rubbing Patch's shoulders. "Talk to us, Tony."
"It's nothing. I shouldn't have said anything," Patch said, hitting the blinker, checking his mirrors, and turning. "We're almost there."
Miranda pushed Lewis forward, looked at Heather, and mouthed "later" to her. Heather nodded as Patch pulled onto a narrow street.
"Another reason Tony likes it here is they let him park this thing in a garage instead of leaving it out on the street," Miranda said.
"Don't want some fucking Paki or Turk stealing it," Patch grumbled. "Will got his car stolen and stripped, I ain't taking the same risk."
"Your brother thinks his reputation will protect his car when he's not around," Miranda shrugged.
Patch pulled the vehicle into a fenced area, parking in the corner, and shut down the engine. Lewis was surprised at just how quiet it got, the rumbling of the big engine having moved to her subconscious.
Everyone got out and went to the door, Patch knocking on it. Lewis could see a sign that said Zimmer Frie and wondered what it meant. After a minute a heavyset woman opened the door, squinting suspiciously, then broke into a big smile.
"Mien kindred," the woman exclaimed.
"Oma," Patch said, looking a little embarrassed as she hugged him.
The older woman held him at arm's length, looking him up and down, then clicked her tongue in a chiding noise.
"Why is your leg still hurt, little Anthony?" she asked in German.
"Well, you know..." Patch answered in the same language. All Lewis had to go off of was his body language and tone, and she could tell he was embarrassed.
"Why are you taking care of him? He's so helpless," the woman said, opening the door. "Come in, come in. Are you staying the night."
"Yes, Oma," Miranda said. She waved at Lewis. "Our friend, she has just arrived in Germany and does not yet understand your language."
The woman stepped up to Lewis, grabbing her upper arms and looking her up and down.
"So skinny," The woman said as she shook her head. "Frau Roth will have to fatten you up or how else will the boys like you?"
Lewis flushed, unable to argue.
"Are you allergic to anything?" The old woman asked.
Lewis shook her head.
"Good, good, I will go to market and make dinner," The old woman said, turning and looking at Patch expectantly.
Patch looked at the woman, who all looked around nonchalantly, Heather and Wizzy whistling softly.
"Ugh. I hate all of you," Patch said.
"Tony, how can you say such things to these wonderful women?" The German woman asked.
The three other women gave Patch beaming innocent smiles, which Lewis quickly picked up on, joining them. Patch sighed and pulled out his wallet, stripping a couple of twenties out of it.
"Good, good, I will make a good dinner and leave out a snack for you when you are done," The woman said. She looked at Patch expectantly again, and Patch peeled off two strange looking bills that Lewis couldn't tell were 50 Mark bills, to pay for the room.
"Such a good boy, Tony," The older woman pinched his cheek, then headed for door.
"Do you want me to drive you to the market?" Patch asked.
"That would be wonderful, little Tony," Frau Roth smiled.
Lewis stared as the woman bustled out, followed by Tony, who was digging his keys from his pocket.
"She's just going to leave us here?" Lewis asked.
"Why not? We've been coming here for years," Miranda said.
Lewis shook her head, following the other women to a closet. Heather handed out blankets, sheets, and pillows, Wizzy and Lewis carrying extras. Then Heather led everyone to a back room, that had an exit to the alley.
"Make you bed. Remember which blanket you used," Miranda said, moving up to one of the stripped down beds.
"Frau Roth used to rent out about a half-dozen rooms, but now she only rents to us," Heather said, getting the extra set from Lewis. "I like it here."
"I'll make Stillwater's first," Wizzy said, setting down one set and then moving over to the bed. "He likes the bunny quilt."
Lewis nodded, following the example of the other three women. The way Patch just let himself get bossed around by the three women confused her. And the old German woman calling him "Little Tony" when he was six foot tall and built like a tank just seemed weird.
The beds were almost finished when there was a knock on the door. Lewis was tucking in the blanket when she heard Miranda laugh.
"Opa Roth," Miranda laughed, moving forward and scooping up into a hug an old, bent man who looked to Lewis to be about five hundred years old. "How are you?" the Amazon asked in German.
"Fine, fine. My leg hurts on days like today when it rains, but all is good," the old man chuckled when Miranda put him down.
"Our friend does not understand German yet. She just arrived in your country and we have not taught her yet," Heather said in German.
The old man limped up to Lewis, holding out his hand. "Frauliene, I am Herr Roth."
"Answer: Guten Tag, mien Herr, and shake his hand," Wizzy said, sitting on the bed.
"Goo-ten tawg, mine Hair," Lewis said, shaking the old man's hand.
"Good enough," Heather laughed.
"Welcome to my humble gausthaus, motel in English, although I do not rent much any longer," the old man said. He leaned forward conspiratorily. "Especially not to schwartzes."
Miranda nodded as Lewis moved over and sat on the bed.
"The last few years, the schwartz, when they rent, they steal things, leave without paying, and make a mess of my fine house," The old man scowled. He smiled at the girls. "But these fraulienes, they are respectful even if lustful."
Heather blushed.
"Did Little Tony come with you?" The old man asked, digging a pipe out of his pocket.
"Jawohl," Wizzy said.
"He took mein frau to market?" He asked, packing tobacco into his pipe.
"Of course. A beautiful frau like your wife should not be unaccompanied," Miranda smiled.
"And his leg?" Herr Roth asked, striking a match and puffing the pipe.
"Still bad. He has to wear a brace now," Heather said.
"Verdamt, das ist nix gud," The old man said through a cloud of pipe smoke. "I will get beer. Would you like eggs?"
Heather perked up. "Please?"
The old man mock-leered at Lewis. "The hot eggs, they will made your breasts large. Good for a growing girl."
Lewis flushed as the old man limped away.
"So that's what happened," Heather mused, looking at Wizzy.
"Huh? What?" Wizzy asked, looking away from the window.
"You ate too man of Herr Roth's spiced pickled eggs," Heather grinned.
Lewis joined in with the laughter, feeling good.
This might be fun. I'm liking Germany so far.