You may not call it love
I did
It was as close as I had gotten
Maybe more than I deserved

2/19th Company Area
Restricted Area, Fulda Gap
Western Germany, Europe
03 November, 1985

"Two more," Nancy told me. I grunted, inhaling deeply with the bar against my chest, then explosively exhaled, pushing the bar up. Nancy was holding the bar steady, just in case I lost my grip or something else happened.

The bar, and the two-hundred-seventy-five pounds in plates on it, lifted smoothly and steadily. Once my elbows were straight I lowered it back down to just above my chest, inhaling, then exhaled sharply, lifting the bar again. She helped me by applying gentle pull so that I was able to drop it into the slots.

I sat up, picking up my towel and wiping off.

"I can't get over the change in you since you got divorced," Nancy said, sitting down on the Nautilus machine across from me. She put her arms against the pads, wrapping her fingers around the handles. "Set me up for an even hundred," she said.

I nodded, mopping off my brow, and moving around behind the machine as she kept talking.

"You were like five-six when you got here, now you're what, six foot even?" She asked.

"Yeah," I moved the pin to one hundred. "Ready."

"You've put on a lot of muscle too, Ant," She said. She inhaled sharply, then started bringing her arms in front of her, working her pectorals and back muscles.

"Yeah," I moved over to where I set down a bottle of beer, taking a long drink off it.

My muscles ached. I've been working for an hour and I was feeling the core muscles ache. It felt good, really good, and I leaned against the table, watching her work out. She was going slow, using the tension of the machine to work her back muscles, and I enjoyed watching her muscles work.

When I was younger, I was used to country girls. Tera, my ex-wife, was a farm girl with a thick waist and heavy breasts. My only other girlfriend, Aine, was slender and willowy with small breasts. Nancy was taller than either of them had been, thicker in the body than either of them, and she was much more muscular.

I'd found I liked looking at that kind of muscle.

I lit a cigarette and watched her work, swinging my arms to loosen up the muscles and joints, keep myself from stiffening up. It was a little chilly in the weight room, so we were both wearing full PT sweats. The stupid blue with gold edging that was ugly as hell and more than a little itchy, but they were warm, which was nice.

"Can I ask you a question?" I said when she finished her twenty reps and leaned back.

She nodded, picking up her towel and wiping her face.

"Do you ever have dreams that you didn't join the Army and are married with kids?" I asked her.

She stopped wiping off. "Married to me?"

I shook my head. "Nobody in particular," I half-lied. "Just, married with a job and children."

"Thank God for that. But no," She shook her head. "No. I have dreams sometimes where I'm back in high school, but that's about it."

"Oh," I looked down at the floor, taking a drag off the cigarette and blowing smoke.

I heard the machine clink and her tennis shoes moved in front of me. "Ant, honey, are you all right?"

I looked up at her, staring into her brown eyes. "Yeah, I'm OK. Just, you know, a weird dream."

"You all done lifting?" She had her towel around her neck.

I nodded, reaching out and grabbing my jacket. She grabbed hers and we left the weight room. I palmed the light switches, killing the lights, and we walked to the Middle Stairwell. Out steps were loud in the silence.

Below us there was a long, low, pain filled moan.

"Brr, I hate that," Nancy said, referring to the sound.

"Just the wind through the door seals," I told her, shrugging.

She glanced at me and shook her head as we rounded the mid-way, heading up to the second floor landing. When we got there, she yanked open the door, waving me through. Together we headed down to my room. She stood there, waiting, arms crossed under her breasts, while I unlocked the door.

There was ice in the mechanism. It took me twice to get the tumblers to engage and even then the crunch of breaking ice was loud in the silent hall. I made a mental note to squirt some WD-40 into the lock to keep it from freezing up.

Once we were inside I moved over to the radiator, turning the black knob all the way open to ward off the chill. When I turned around Nancy was stretching in the main room, reaching up to touch the roof with her fingertips. I stepped into her and she dropped her arms around my neck.

"Hey there," she smiled, kissing me. When the kiss broke I started kissing down the side of her neck, my hands sliding down to cup her rear. She stepped back, out of my embrace, shaking her head. "I want a shower first."

"We're just going to get all sweaty again," I told her, stepping forward to put my hand on her arm. "I'll go down on you," I promised.

"Ew. No," She said, turning away. "I'm all sweaty and gross. My cunt's all swampy," she took my hand. "Come on, let's get in the shower."

"This, from the woman who will fuck in the field after two months," I laughed, following her.

"It's different, Ant," she told me, pushing open the door to the bathroom and hitting the lights.

I ignored that for a second, just a blink, the reflection of us in the mirror didn't quite seem to line up correctly.

"How?" I was honestly curious.

"I'm all sweaty and gross from working out, but the shower's right here," she told me. She reached in and spun the handles. "In the field, there's no shower, no choice to be clean or dirty."

I shrugged. "Doesn't bother me."

She made a face. "Ew," she checked the water. "Nice and hot."

We stripped down, me hurrying so I could watch her. I loved the way her body was put together. Soft woman over Army muscle. She saw me and moved slower, taking her time to peel off the T-shirt, the shorts, her sportsbra and her panties. Finally she smiled at me, standing there naked, before stepping backwards and into the shower. The shower curtain rustled around her, then swung back into place, hiding her.

For a split second the lizard was sure that she had vanished.

"Hurry up," she laughed, holding her hand out.

The lizard breathed a sigh of relief.

I took her hand and let her pull me under the water. It was warm and soapy, after a while it was full of steam, giggles, then moans of pleasure. Afterwards I stood behind her in the hot water, rubbing her shoulders, using my thumbs to work the knots out of the muscle.

"I love you," I told her, putting my arms around her waist and pulling her close, resting my head on her shoulder. She was a little shorter than me, so it was kind of awkward, but nothing too bad. She felt nice in my arms, warm and alive.

This. This right here. This is all that mattered, all that was important, all I cared about.

There was shouting in German and the crash of boots on the floor above us and I could feel goosebumps rise up on Nancy's skin.

"It hate that. It's not so bad in Titty Territory, you only hear it once or twice a night," She shuddered. "How can you boys stand it?"

I just shrugged, squeezing her tight for a second. "Noises can't hurt you."

"I couldn't live up here. Not with that," She said when the sounds repeated themselves.

I just shrugged. "Don't matter."

She turned in my arms and looked up at me. "Doesn't any of this make you afraid?"

I shook my head. "Why would it?""

Nancy shivered again. "People have seen him since, Ant. With that grin. Obviously dead. Trying to get into the barracks, trying to get at people."

I shook my head. "So?"

"What if he comes for you? For John? For me?"

"He won't," I told her, and kissed her gently. "It's just Rear-D."

She lifted up her hands, her skin hot from the shower, and put her hands on either side of my face. "Ant, honey, are you all right? You've felt off all day."

She reached down between her legs and then lifted her fingers, looking at them closely. "Honey, did you cum?"

I shrugged. "No."

She turned off the water, stepping out of the shower, pulling me with her. "Maybe it was the water. Come on, let's get you dried off and in bed."

I dried off quickly, perfunctory, scrubbing violently at my close cropped hair. She led me into the bedroom, climbing up into the top bunk in front of me. She paused half in, looking back at me with a smile, and wiggled her butt.

That got a smile out of me.

Under the blankets we made slow, gentle love.

Right up until she got hung up, caught on the edge of orgasm. She pleaded with me for a moment, until I slammed my forehead against hers. The pain, the impact, pushed her over the edge and her nails raked down my back.

I lied, told her I was cumming, and thrust hard into her several times before collapsing on top of her. I was a long way from coming, I felt detached, distant. The lizard was fretful, tapping the wrong controls. I was aware of how the breezes moved in the room, the sounds of the barracks around us, and the way the cloth felt against my skin. Something was bothering him, something I wasn't able to figure out.

The barracks had heat, power. We had backup environmentals in case the power went out. Positive air system, medical supplies, everything we could need.

But something was bothering him enough that I couldn't get off.

She believed me, or at least was willing to let it go. Afterwards we curled up wordlessly, laying under my quilt, one arm thrown over her. I watched her go to sleep, knowing that eventually she'd wake up to go pee, get dressed, and go back to her room.

That was all right.

She was asleep, soundly, snoring softly, and didn't move when I got out of bed. I climbed down, making sure to set my feet properly in case there was frost on the floor. Set your feet down, hold most your weight on the bed, let your body heat melt any ice or frost, then put your weight down. If your luck held, you wouldn't slip and bust your ass.

I moved over to the desk, pulling out the chair quietly, and sat down. I opened the top drawer, getting out a small bottle of CLP and my finest honing stone. I set them on the desk, then got out the ceramic sharpening rod.

That done, I pulled the Gerber Mark II fighting knife from the sheathe, and set about slowly sharpening it. Running the blade into the sharpening stone, then rod, to keep the thin edge of the metal from curling over and dulling it.

The steady vwip vwip of the blade on the stone seemed to soothe the lizard as well as my own nerves. Each stroke of the blade made me feel more grounded, made the noises the barracks made seem less threatening.

I spent time on the point, making sure it was needle sharp. After that I used a copper brush taken from an M-16A1 cleaning kit to thoroughly scrub the metal grip.

Once I was finished I put it back in the sheathe, leaving it on the table. It wasn't a standard clip sheathe. It was designed for boots. At the bottom was a short strip of metal that ended in a metal loop that fit around the heel of my boot. At the top was a leather strap that went around my boot.

Afterwards I stared at Nancy for a long time in the dimness provided by the little nightlight I had plugged in so I wouldn't get disoriented in the darkness. Well, that was the reason I told myself. I just slept better, felt more secure, with the night light.

I wasn't looking for anything in particular, just staring at her. Like I was memorizing her face. The small "I want" line between her browns that only appeared when she frowned. Her flawless tanned complexion, a result of her half-Hispanic heritage. Her brown hair, towseled now. Every line of her face, like I was memorizing it for some reason.

Eventually, I stubbed out the cigarette, yawned, stretched, and climbed up into the top bunk. Sliding under the covers with her.

They were warm.

So was she.

It made the night, and the dreams, bearable.