by Roslyn Bane
Sam stood up and pulled Kris to her feet. “If I help you, will you unpack?”
“I will. Are you hungry? I’ve got…”
“Yogurt. I looked. Why don’t you order something, and while we wait we can find your dishes and fill some of those cabinets?”
“Okay. How about some Italian? Not pizza.”
“And a salad, that stuff in the fridge looks a little old.”
“Hmm?” Kris walked to the fridge, peered inside, and pulled out the bag of lettuce, glanced at it and tossed it in the trash. “I’ll get an antipasto too.”
Sam was starting to tear open a box, “Excellent. Now, where do you want your plates?”
They had the kitchen organized before the food arrived. Kris set the table while Sam paid the delivery man. They sat down to eat, and Sam watched in awe as Kris devoured the salad and bread before starting on her chicken parmigiana. She’d never seen Kris eat so heartedly. And it answered her unspoken question. The weight loss was due to fear that Sam would destroy her career. She would make sure Kris ate while she was around, and they were getting groceries before she left to go back to North Carolina.
“You’re staring at me,” Kris said between bites.
“You’ve lost weight.”
“A little.”
“No, it’s more than that…It looks like you’ve lost ten pounds, maybe more.”
“Well, I’ve been running more. I run daily now. My long run is twelve miles. And I work out more. It’s the exercise.”
“Maybe. Are you training for something?”
“I was thinking of doing the Marine Corps Marathon in the fall. I won’t be ready for a full marathon, but I’m going to try.”
“Why? I thought you didn’t particularly like running.”
“It helps with…never mind…it’s good for me.”
Sam reached forward and wrapped her hand easily around her wrist, “It helps with what?”
“Stress. It helps with the stress.”
“This new position is tough?”
“It’ll get better now. It’s a matter of adjusting to the new command. Bethesda is a different beast. The volume is higher, and the pace is fast. I see so many that remind me of the fear I felt as I came through here.”
“So much stress that you’re training for a marathon to tame it?”
“It helps. But I’ve been looking over my shoulder waiting for the ax to fall. It was the only way I could relieve the stress.”
“You could have called.” There was silence for several moments. It spanned the months in between and all the hurt and pain. It teased at the edges, and if it wasn’t finished now, there would be nothing else left to say. “I need you to know that I never thought you’d get involved with patients. Your ethics wouldn’t let you.”
“Oh, Sam, that hit so hard because I had questioned myself since the moment I realized who you were.”
“Tell me everything. What happened to us? Everything you remember now. I want to know about your flashbacks. About why kids, little kids, but not babies haunt you. Please.”
Sam listened while Kris relayed everything she could about the day of their injuries. Deeply affected, she held Kris as they cried over Yagana’s death. More tears came as Sam realized what Kris had to do to save her.
As they finished eating Sam looked around the kitchen at the collapsed boxes, stacked to go outside. “Why haven’t you unpacked?”
“It seemed like wasted effort. I’ve been waiting to get called into the CO’s office and kicked out.”
“Kris, I am so sorry for what I said. For accusing you of…of using me to assuage your guilt. For being unethical. I was hurt. I lashed out. I was mad, and I was scared.”
“Scared?”
“Yes. That you were with me, only because you somehow felt responsible. It scared me because I had fallen in love with you, and it hurt to think that the feelings weren’t mutual.”
“They were though.”
“I know that now. It took me some time to recognize it. Once I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t understand it, but I was waiting, had been waiting, for you to realize that you didn’t have to be with me and to walk away. Like my father did.”
“I wouldn’t have,” Kris spoke with conviction.
“You left without saying goodbye.”
“I started to call and come by so many times. But I understood your anger. I hoped that you would calm down, forgive me, and call me, but I wouldn’t, couldn’t, contact you. To risk hurting you more. To risk you carrying through on your threat. How did you find me?”
“I went to your house to tell you I was being retained.”
“Oh, that’s good news. I wondered if you’d heard.”
“I won’t fly. I have new orders to the naval research lab. In the aeronautics division.”
“That’s in…”
“It’s a half hour away.” Their eyes met and held.
A smile spread across Kris’ face. “That’s so convenient.”
They stood up simultaneously and moved toward each other. Kris leaned forward as Sam’s hand pressed against the back of her neck, guiding her forward until their lips met. Soft and gentle, she savored the feel of her lover’s mouth again on hers. Their mouths slid over each other’s lips caressing and soothing. Her fingers stroked over Sam’s face as if trying to recall every curve and every angle. Kris broke the kiss and gazed at Sam. She saw the gentleness in Sam’s eyes. The concern and the softness she was so skilled at hiding. And she knew she would do everything she could to prove to Sam that she would never have to doubt her intentions again.
They kissed, and it quickly grew frantic. Hands clutched in her hair and tugged. Sam’s strong hands grasped her ass and squeezed, pulling Kris closer until they pressed breast to breast through their clothes. Kris moved her hands down grasped Sam’s shirt ends and pulled it up and over her head.
Sam’s hands tugged at Kris’ belt, opened the snap on her jeans, and quickly lowered the zipper. She yanked them down taking her panties along. Kris stepped free of them and started to unbutton her shirt. Sam kicked the pants aside and pulled Kris close again.
Sam backed her against the table. The rattle of silverware distracted her momentarily, and she hastily pushed the remains of dinner to the end of the table. She kissed along the side of Kris’ neck. Soft strokes of tongue and quick bites. Her hands finished with the buttons and swept the blouse open. Kris shrugged her shoulders and sent it falling to the table. Their mouths met again in another urgent kiss, mouths demanding more as little moans and gasps escaped with each caress. Sam reached behind and released Kris’ bra. She pulled it free and lowered her mouth to take her breast in her mouth. She stopped and stared, slowly she reached out and traced a finger over the scar, now just a fine pink line over a surprisingly full but nipple-less breast. She lifted her eyes slowly to Kris.
“It’s not done,” Kris explained.
“Can I?”
“Most definitely yes.” She used her hands to press Sam’s mouth down to her breast. Arching into her mouth as lips nuzzled along the side.
Sam explored each breast, cupped them together and buried her face in between, relishing the scent of her skin. Kris’ fingers tugged at her hair, dug into her shoulders, and she pushed forward up into her mouth offering Sam more of her breasts. Sam reached around and grasped her ass, lifting slightly to put Kris on the edge of the table. She wedged between Kris’ legs and bent her back over the table, their mouths again locked until she had to climb on top of her or break the kiss. She straightened, nudging Kris’ knees apart with her hands, and hooked her foot around a chair pulling it close. She sat down while pulling Kris back to the edge of the table. Her fingers stroked along the inside of her thighs, and she nibbled and licked along the smooth skin, gradually making her way to the center. Kris gasped and spread her legs wider.
Sam ran her hands higher, her thumbs stroking upwards until they pressed along the outside edge of her sex. She stroked firmly along the s
ide of her outer lips, and pressed them together, gently rolling them. Kris moaned, and her hips started to lift and match the rhythm of Sam’s hands. Sam reversed the pattern she was tracing before lowering her mouth for a soft, slow stroke of tongue along her seam. Kris gasped with pleasure and lifted her hips more. Sam moved her thumbs down to tease the edge of her opening and lowered her mouth again.
Kris gasped and writhed slowly moving across the table. “Where are you going?” Sam asked as she pulled Kris back toward her as her wriggling on top of the discarded shirt was moving her across the table top. Sam slowly entered her with one finger then added another. Her fingers working in tandem with her mouth, as Kris started to rock her pelvis in time with her strokes.
“God, you’re making me crazy,” Kris groaned. “More.”
Sam laughed against her but refused to hurry. Kris squeezed with her thighs, reaching for more friction and Sam nudged them apart and pressed down on her abdomen, forcing her back down onto the table. Sam stood slightly, leaned over Kris and nipped her on the hip bone. She moved her hand, changing her angle and added a third finger. Her thumb traced circles around her clit, and Kris’ breath grew frantic. She arched up again to meet Sam, who again bit her on the hip and pushed her down, her mouth now rejoining in her intimate attack on her sex. Kris arched high and tensed, her motion frozen, until with a last gasp, she shouted, “Sam,” as she came.
Sam paused momentarily, before she started stroking again. She soon had Kris writhing and gasping again. “Again baby. I want more. Give me everything.” She tormented her, alternating between playful teasing caresses and more forceful strokes. Keeping Kris off balance she gradually built her toward peak, but retreating as she came close to release. Finally, Kris was pleading, begging for release, she stood quickly pulling Kris with her. She kissed her possessively, their mouths eager and frantic, she bit down on Kris’ lower lip and spun her around, pressing her down over the table. She stepped between her legs, one hand wrapped around her front skillfully teasing her clit while the other found its way inside her and thrust. Sam thrust her hips forward and ground her clit against the smooth, taut globes of Kris’ butt. Their moans and gasps filled the room, and with a shout, Kris erupted again. She collapsed under Sam’s weight. But Sam was too close. She leaned over, nipped Kris on the shoulder, and pulled her up. She turned her, kissed her brutally and placed her hand on her shoulder guiding her to the floor.
***
Kris knew what Sam wanted and wasted no time positioning herself in front of Sam and between her legs. She knelt and pulled Sam to her and used her mouth aggressively to meet her need. Sam thrust her head back, rocked her pelvis forward and grabbed Kris by the head forcing more contact. With a shout of release, she trembled and released her passion, anointing Kris with her fluid.
Sam collapsed down into the chair and pulled Kris into her lap. They leaned against each other, their breathing ragged. Hearts hammering against their chests, and slick with sweat, they sat enjoying each other’s warmth. She felt Kris nuzzle her neck and say something. “I didn’t hear you?”
“I said I guess I should make the bed. I don’t know how much more rocking this old table can take.”
“I’ll help.”
Hand in hand they walked down the hall to the bedroom.
Chapter Sixty-three
“WAS THERE ANYTHING YOU wanted to do today?” Kris asked
“I want to stay in bed with you all day. But since I head back tomorrow there is one thing I need to do. I need to go to Arlington. Two of my crew are there.”
Kris sat up and looked at her, “Well let’s get ready. I’ll drive. You can shower here, and we’ll stop by …where are you staying?”
“I’m at Bolling, south side of DC.”
“That’s along the way. You can put on your uniform. I’ll help you pack your gear, and you can check out. I want you here with me for as long as possible.”
“You want to come with me?”
“I would be honored.” Kris smiled.
“Do you want to shower first?”
“It doesn’t matter. Wait. I don’t have a chair in there for you.”
“Shower with me. But just…you know, a shower.”
“Yes, Sam. I am capable of controlling myself for a couple of hours.” Kris smiled back at Sam.
Kris helped to support Sam as she soaped up and rinsed. Kris helped Sam from the shower and back into the room. She rooted through a box and handed Sam a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “Here these will fit.” Kris slipped back into the closet and put on her service dress blue uniform. She checked her image in the mirror. The dark circles remained under eyes, but her cheeks had some color.
Sam donned her prosthesis, dressed, and stood up, “When we get back I’ll help you unpack in here.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll think I’ll have the motivation now to do it. Knowing I won’t have to move again.”
Sam looked over, started to apologize again, but Kris cut her off. “Stop. Don’t say it. We’ve both made our apologies and learned our lessons. I want to move on, Sam. I want to see where this thing goes with us. Now let’s get moving.” She grabbed a handful of change off her dresser, and they left.
The drive to Arlington was quick with the light traffic. Kris parked, and they walked into the visitor’s center. Sam spoke briefly to the attendant, and after several minutes returned.
“It’s a bit of a walk.”
As Sam started to walk away, Kris reached out and took her hand turning her back around to face her. “Sam, take your time. You don’t have to rush. You don’t have to explain.”
They walked the path for more than ten minutes quietly, as trams drove visitors around the graveyard to President Kennedy’s grave and up to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Finally, they came to the proper section. They walked side-by-side looking for the gravesite. Sam stopped suddenly and walked toward a headstone. She looked down on it and stood silent for a long time.
Remembering her crew chief who she had served with for over six years, their paths paralleling several times in their careers. She had met his wife and children at a squadron function several years ago. His son had told her most emphatically that her name couldn’t be Sam. It was okay that she could fly, but her name wasn’t right. His wife, Joan, had been mortified, but Sam laughed and told the youngster if he promised to keep it a secret she would tell him her real name. Only after the boy took a solemn oath of secrecy, she revealed her name to be Samantha. His eyes widened in surprise. “That’s a girl’s name,” and he scampered off.
Sam remembered some of their more harrowing missions in Afghanistan, and finally, she remembered what she could about their final mission. She apologized and lowered herself to her knees, a hand resting on his headstone, she said a prayer as the tears fell from her face. She felt Kris step up behind her and rest a hand lightly on her shoulder. After another minute Sam stood up and fumbled in her pocket. She withdrew her hand and looked at Kris, who silently took her hand and pressed a quarter into it.
Sam stepped stiffly over to the headstone, and placed the quarter on it, symbolizing that she was there when he died. She took a step back, and Kris walked forward, placing a dime on the headstone. Sam watched silently while Kris said a prayer and backed away. They stood silently side-by-side and rendered a salute, turned crisply and walked away. They walked in silence back to the path. They stopped, and Kris stood in front of Sam waiting while she composed herself and blocked her from people who had stopped to look.
“When you’re ready. Let me know,” she whispered, her hand gentle on Sam’s sleeve.
Sam lifted her head slightly, extending her neck and took several deep breaths. She brushed her fingers over her damp cheeks before pulling the slip of paper from her pocket. She glanced at it. “It should be down here further on the left.” She reached out and touched Kris’ hand briefly before walking toward her next goodbye.
Kris waited patiently at the foot of the grave while Sam again paid h
er respects. Several people stood a few rows over, quietly visiting another grave. There were a scattering of coins on the markers, mostly pennies. Nickels and dimes rested on a few of the more recent headstones. Kris saw a few quarters on the markers of fresh graves.
A shuddering gasp brought her attention back to Sam. She turned back in time to see her sink to her knees. Sam leaned forward onto her hands and took several deep breaths before straightening herself. Again, she placed a hand on the tombstone and muttered silently. She rose up, her face marred with tears and, accepted the quarter that Kris had stepped up to give her and placed it on the marble. Sam backed up to the foot of the grave and Kris moved forward, and again placed a dime on the headstone. They stood still momentarily before rendering a salute and moved away silently.
As they walked along the path, Sam was lost in her thoughts, and Kris watched her carefully. She knew that Sam still harbored thoughts that she was responsible for their deaths. She hoped the counseling sessions had helped to alleviate it. They walked for several minutes until they found a bench and sat down.
Sam looked down and brushed the soil off of her knees. “That was something I had to do. Thank you for coming with me.”
“Sam, you don’t need to thank me.” Kris’ eyes filled as she looked into Sam’s tearful eyes.
They sat looking over the rolling hills, acres covered with headstones evenly spaced, row after row. Sam spoke quietly, “It brings it home, seeing this. Knowing that all these people died wearing the uniform. They ought to make every politician spend a day here. Make everyone who says they hate the military spend an afternoon with a grieving family, so they see the pain these families go through. See the additional grief their words of hate cause. Do you know from here you can see the Pentagon and vice versa? You know what you can’t see? The White House or the Capitol building. How ironic is that? The people who so willingly call on the sacrifice of others can’t even see the outcome of their actions.” Sam stood up and offered Kris her hand, helping her up. “Let’s go. I’m done here.”
