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0900 HOURS
November 7, 1992
Marine Corps Air Station - New River
Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
It was Saturday morning...the day John was to land at the New River Air
Station.
Sarah grinned giddily as she drove her antiquated Marine surplus Jeep through
the MAS gate at Camp Lejeune. It felt good to be dressed in "Marine
Green" once again, a measure she'd felt would ease her admission onto
the base. John's transport was due in at 1000 HOURS, and she wanted to be
early.
John would have to report for duty on Monday morning, but until then, he was
all hers. A flush crossed her features as she anticipated all that would
entail...oh God, how she'd missed him!
Reminding herself again of the requirements of protocol, Sarah watched as his
flight disembarked on the tarmac.
Sara's heart pounded in her throat as John passed through the gate into the
waiting area, his jaw firm, his presence strong and competent.
Together they stood, each frozen in place, their eyes saying the words denied
them by the protocol of rank.
Shakily, Sarah raised her hand in a salute ("I want to touch you,
John.")
Returning her acknowledgement ("Soon, my love...soon."), John
asked: "Lieutenant, are you in charge of my ground transportation?"
"Yes Sir. That I am, Sir."
"Very well then. Proceed."
Silently, they climbed aboard Mac's Jeep, and headed for the colonel's
housing on Front Street in Courthouse Bay, overlooking New River.
"How far is it to my billet?" he asked impatiently, his fingers
caressing her hand on the gear shift knob.
"According to the map I got at the main gate, it isn't far now,"
she sighed, her hand warming to his touch.
"I can't believe you're actually here, John. You don't know how much
I've been anticipating this...seeing you again...having you with me."
John looked at Sarah, his eyes filled with emotion, as he gently stroked her
thigh. "How could I not know, Sarah...how could I not know?"
John's "billet" was a red brick colonial house with a view of the
river. They were met at the door by a Marine corporal who delivered John's
official vehicle and gave him the keys that would allow him access to his new
life.
"Is there anything else the colonel needs, Sir?"
"No thank you, corporal. That will be all." John said, anxiously
dismissing the young man. "I think I can take it from here."
With a parting salute, the corporal turned and was gone.
Briefly, the two wandered from room to room, sizing up his new living
quarters. John's moving cartons, sent on ahead more than a week ago, were
already in place throughout the house. Sarah was impressed.
"It must be nice to be a colonel." she said, her voice softening as
they entered the master bedroom.
Sarah felt his warmth against her back as he pressed his body against her,
his arms encircling her waist.
"Sometimes...sometimes not." he whispered into her hair.
"There are times when the protocol can be a pain in the..."
"Shhhh." she hushed, turning into his embrace, her fingers tracing
the strong line of his jaw.
"Kiss me, John?" she asked, her body arching against his. "Let
me know you're really here...that this isn't just another dream."
"Sarah..." he said, his voice rasping with unfulfilled passion.
"I've waited so long..."
Gently, he covered her lips with his, feeling the silky softness of her
permeate his bones.
Sarah twined her arms around his neck and held him to her, unwilling to
relinquish his firm body, inhaling the masculine scent of his after shave.
John's hands began to explore the gentle curves hidden beneath her jacket as
he claimed her lips once more...probing the sweet depths of her mouth,
feeling her heart pound against his chest.
A soft moan escaped her lips as he cupped her buttocks through her skirt,
pressing her against his burgeoning erection, her deliverance so near and yet
so far.
She felt the moisture build between her thighs as she gazed into the lean,
hungry look of his eyes...a reflection of her own?
Slowly, John removed her jacket and began to free the buttons of her blouse,
his fingers trembling with anticipation.
"It's all right, John...I'm not going anywhere." she soothed, her
own urgency evident in her voice as she began to stroke the hardened
prominence between his legs.
"Oh, Sarah...don't!" he gasped, his words ragged and guttural.
"It's been so long...I want you so much..."
Reluctantly, she removed her hand as he caressed the bare line of her back,
releasing the catch of her bra, and adding it to the growing pile on the
packing cartons.
Quickly, her pulse pounding in her ears, Sarah opened the waistband of her
skirt and dropped it to the floor.
John was overcome, his straining arousal pressing tightly against his
uniform, his eyes clouding with passion.
Gently, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bare bed, his gait
staggered and unsteady.
Then, tenderly, he began to peel the last of her clothing down her hips,
greeting each new territory with his lips as it emerged before his gaze.
"Oh...John..." she breathed, fighting to touch him beneath his
clothing. "I want to feel you in my hands, my love...
Hurry...please!"
With a motion born of urgency, John rose and began to tear at his clothing,
an endangered button bouncing across the bare, hardwood flooring.
Mesmerized, Sarah caressed his body with her eyes as he lowered the final
barrier between them and stood before her, his engorged member standing
proudly erect, drawing her irresistibly forward.
"Sarah..." he warned, as she slipped from the bed and dropped to
her knees between his feet. "You know what this does to me...this is not
a good time..." he gasped as she enclosed his enormous shaft between her
palms and began to caress the smooth, hard tip of his maleness with her
tongue.
Hungrily, she drew the massive head between her lips, feeling it fill her
mouth with its enormity, suckling the minute drops that escaped unbidden from
its pulsating length.
"Sarah!" he moaned. "Stop! I can't take any more! You're
completely destroying my control!"
In one fluid motion, he placed his hands on her hips, and lifted her atop a
pile of packing cartons.
"John?" she began, uncertainly "What..."
Stroking her inner thighs, John, inserted his fingers within her, parting
her, baring her to his gaze...his probing tongue...
Sarah was overcome with the nearness of him... the feel of him within
her...with the gentle caress of his fingers against her tender nub.
Frantically, she clutched at his hair as her climax swept over her, her legs
wrapping tightly around his broad shoulders, her cries echoing through the
barren room.
"John! Please...please!"
Wiping his face on his discarded t-shirt, John parted her thighs once again
and drove his hardened length deep within her, filling her, sending her ever
beyond the brink.
Briefly, he paused to allow her body to adjust to his intimate invasion, then
clasping her hips firmly between his hands, he pulled her against him,
impaling her once more on his massive erection.
Unstable at best, the cartons beneath her started to shift under her
impassioned response. As they began to slide and topple to the floor, John
placed his hands beneath her buttocks, lifting her against him...plunging
deeper into her body...carrying her... mounting her against the wall.
Sarah wrapped her legs tightly around his lunging hips, feeling his powerful
thrusts over and over again deep within her core, his lips feeding hungrily
against her throat.
Again she cried out in completion, moisture flooding between her thighs, her
body responding to his massive coupling as he filled her with the moist heat
of his passion, and joined her fall over the brink of sanity.
Gasping, he held her in his arms, supporting her weight, impaling her against
the wall like a butterfly on a pin. Then, finally, taking a deep cleansing
breath, he carried her in his arms to the bed.
Gently, he lay down beside her, covering her body with his shirt, brushing
her hair away from her moist forehead.
"Sarah...Darling...did I hurt you? I tried to hold back...to give you
more of a chance to adjust to my...well...you know...size." he said, a
slight flush spreading across his cheeks. "I just can't seem to control
myself around you. I can lead an entire unit into battle without breaking a
sweat, but a look...a touch from you and I lose my mind."
Sarah's eyes were closed, her mind bathing in the afterglow of his love...his
passion.
"Sarah?" he spoke, concern tingeing his voice. "Are you all
right? Talk to me!"
Limply, Sarah opened her eyes and tried to focus on her lover's face, then,
giving up, she rolled toward him and spread his shirt over both of their
bodies. "Never change, my love." she sighed contentedly.
"You're perfect just as you are."
Then finally, their bodies intimately entwined, they fell into a deep,
restful sleep...each content in the knowledge that they would awake in each
other's embrace...a dream no longer.
Sarah MacKenzie's Apartment
Duke University
And so the months had passed, with Sarah spending her weekdays deep in her
studies, and her weekends in John Farrow's arms.
Then Christmas came, and for the first time in her life she had someone of
her own with whom to spend the season.
John and Sarah had taken a Saturday drive into the snow-covered mountains and
cut a tree to decorate at his home in Courthouse Bay. Sarah had strung
popcorn and cranberries, while John had watched her delight unfold,
childlike, with each passing day.
She spent her holiday break at John's home on base, filling her days
preparing for next semester's classes, and her nights making slow, sweet love
to the man who filled her dreams.
By the time New Year's had arrived, Sarah had begun to file her lifetime of
loneliness away in a solitary place within her, replacing it instead with a
deep, abiding love for the man who had given her the gift of life.
With John's arrival, Sarah's law school academic capabilities had suddenly
begun to blossom. No longer playing "catch up", Sarah had become a
prominent and sought after study partner, and was frequently referred to by
her professors as not only a top student, but as a formidable lawyer-to-be.
Then, as 1993 began its slow progression, John began to get word of a
potential deployment of the 24th MEU to Somalia, in support of the United
Nations "Operation Restore Hope"
As February gave way to March, the rumor became a certainty. John would be
shipping out with his troops within the week in an attempt to keep the
Somalian clan warlords at bay and provide humanitarian relief to the
beleaguered people of that oppressed country.
Sarah was crushed. As the CO of a "paper battalion" in Okinawa,
John had been safe and secure. But now, commanding a Marine Expeditionary
Unit, he would be on the front lines, the vanguard of all combat units
deployed in the skirmish. There was a very real possibility that he might
never return home to her.
While Mac, a Marine herself, was proud of John's role in securing the peace,
Sarah...the woman within...was terrified at the thought of losing her lover
in the throes of battle. Finally, torn and distraught, Sarah had Barb cover
her classes while she spent the last few days with John in Courthouse Bay.
Busy readying his men for deployment, John had very little time to spend with
Sarah during that last week, but being a Marine, she understood. Instead, she
was grateful for each moment they were privileged to share...cherishing their
time together as though it would have to last until the end of her days.
The night before his departure, she had lain in John's strong arms in
Courthouse Bay while he stroked the tension from her body, softly
touching...caressing, as though to take the memory of her passion with him in
the months to come.
Sarah had wanted to forego her birth control pills that last week, the
thought of a child...John's child... a consolation in her time of need. But
John was adamant.
"I can't do that, Sarah. I can't do that to you...and I could never
leave my child behind without a father... if anything should happen to me.
Promise me that you won't consider it, Sarah. Sweetheart...I need to hear you
say it."
And so, with tears in her eyes, she'd given her word...her sacred vow, and
though it broke her heart...she had honored his request.
Finally, it was time for him to go. Dressed in fatigues, his duffel slung
firmly over his shoulder, John left before dawn the next morning...taking her
happiness with him.
The light gone from her eyes, Sarah watched as his Humvee disappear down
Front Street, knowing that if he failed to return...she would never allow
herself to love again.
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1700 HOURS
April 30, 1993
John Farrow's Home
Courthouse Bay
Sarah paced nervously across the floor. John's unit had landed hours
ago...where was he?
Again, she pulled back the curtains and searched Front Street for a sign of
his arrival, but saw nothing. She knew John would have had an extensive
debriefing to go through as soon as he arrived, but enough was enough!
Exasperated, she rambled into the kitchen to get a glass of iced tea.
It was then she heard his key in the lock, and ran back toward the front
room.
"Sarah?" he called. "Sarah...are you here?"
She tried to call, but words seemed to fail her. Instead, she ran across the
room and threw her arms around his neck...her face pressed tightly against
his body...her tears dampening his shirt.
"It's okay...it's okay." he crooned, as though consoling a child.
Gently, he nestled her beneath his chin, his hands stroking her trembling
form.
"Oh John...I didn't mean to do that. Some Marine I am!"
Breathing deeply, she looked up into his eyes, her hands caressing the
stubble on his chin. Then, rising on her tip-toes, she pressed her lips to
his, exploring his dark recesses with her tongue.
John responded eagerly, running his hands over the curved softness of her
breasts, cupping her buttocks, drawing her intimately against his hard body.
But then he pulled away. "Sweetheart...I'm really foul. I need a shower
in the worst way...and this face! I haven't seen a razor in days. Give me a
little time to clean up. I smell like a horse stable!"
Planting a kiss on her forehead, he grabbed his duffel and headed for the
bedroom. Within minutes, Sarah heard the shower running. In her mind's eye,
she pictured him naked, lost in the steam, his soapy hands touching the very
spots she longed to touch...and she knew where she wanted to be.
Quietly, she slipped out of her clothing and slid into the shower behind him.
John turned, his eyes stroking her naked form, his body responding to her
nearness.
"Sarah..." he began, his mouth suddenly dry.
Silently, Sarah took the soap from his hand and began to massage the hair on
his naked chest.
John closed his eyes, his breath becoming labored as her hands dipped below
his waist and began to lather his distended erection.
"Oh, Sarah," he groaned, his reserve sliding down the drain amid
the soap bubbles. "This is not how I planned our first time together...I
wanted to do this right..."
"This IS right." she breathed, her body pressed to his, her leg
curling against his hip.
"It sure feels that way..."
Mindlessly, John lifted her, bracing her back against the warm shower wall,
his lips drawing her tender nipples deep within his mouth.
Sarah pressed her hips against him, her legs twining tightly around his
waist, urging him to complete their union.
"John...I've waited so long...I want to feel you inside of me...now.
Hurry..." she moaned, her hips undulating against him.
"Hurry..."
Suddenly there was only heat...her voice...her body. Beyond control, John
plunged mindlessly between her thighs...thrusting again and again, her cries
of passion echoing in the small enclosure. And then he exploded within her,
filling her, taking her to the edge...almost.
"You didn't come." he whispered raggedly, his body fighting for
control.
"Yes...I did." she lied, but his look said that he knew better.
"We're not done yet." he whispered into her hair. "Give me
five minutes to finish and shave," he said, indicating the pinkness
around her nipple where his beard had abraded her tender flesh. "Wait
for me..."'
Quickly, John finished up in the shower, then shaved the stubble from his
face. Five minutes later, he walked into the bedroom, a towel draped low on
his hips.
Sarah lay on the brass bed, her body wrapped loosely in a bath towel,
awaiting his arrival. She felt a shiver of anticipation course through her
body as he approached the bed, and dropped his covering to the floor.
To her amazement, he was already hard...his arousal looming before him, proud
and determined.
Sarah wet her lips and began to slide toward him, her towel scrunching up
between her legs, but John had other ideas.
"Not this time, Sweetheart. This time, I'm in charge."
Slowly, as John pressed her back against the bed, Sarah began once more to
explore the firm contours of his body. But John was adamant...he would not be
hurried again.
Softly, he imprisoned her wrists in his massive hands, and raised them above
her head. "Grab the headboard, Sweetheart." he directed. "This
one is for you...and I plan to take my time..."
Aroused, Sarah clasped the brass railing above her head with her fists, goose
flesh rising between her breasts.
Slowly, John opened her towel, exposing her moist body to his searching gaze.
She was beautiful. He wanted her again...now...but his needs would have to
wait. This time, Sarah came first.
Parting her thighs with his hands, John began stroking their pale interiors,
positioning his knees between them. Then, resting his weight on his elbows,
he stretched out on top of her, his sex lightly probing the moist vortex of
her passion.
He began, as he had planned a million times over the last two months... at
the top...pressing his lips hungrily against hers, plunging deeply into the
soft sweetness of her mouth...stealing her breath and giving her his own.
His hands framing her tender breasts, he lowered his lips to the pulse point
at the base of her throat...inhaling her scent...tasting her moans as she
arched her neck in passion, her nipples stiffening in anticipation.
Then, trailing a line of tiny kisses across her chest, John continued his
decent, pausing to nuzzle first one breast, and then the other...his tongue
teasing them to attention...his lips drawing them deep into the hot, wet
interiors of his mouth.
Aroused beyond belief, Sarah writhed beneath him, moisture building between
her thighs, her fingers releasing the headboard and combing madly through his
hair.
John paused, once again raising her hands above her head. "Not yet,
Sweetheart...just hang on..."
His own body shivered in anticipation, as he once again began his trek
downward, across the dewy plains of her abdomen, tasting her flesh, dipping
maddeningly into her naval, then descending still further.
Forcefully, Sarah gripped the headboard, her knuckles white against the pink
flesh of her hands, her breath coming in ragged gasps as her throat arched in
passion.
Then, John drew back, and raising her legs, he coaxed her knees apart,
opening her fully...exposing her throbbing core to his hungry gaze.
Gently, John inserted his thumbs, parting her moist folds, massaging the
tender bud of her desire with his fingers.
Sarah whimpered, her hips arching against him, her biceps rock hard as she
grasped the headboard.
"Oh...John!" she cried into the stillness as he thrust his tongue
deep inside her, pantomiming the act she so desired.
"John!" she fairly screamed, her body shaking, her climax erasing
her last vestige of control. "Oh, God ... now...please!"
Wiping his face on her towel, John positioned his massive arousal between her
quaking thighs, and plunged deeply inside of her. Beyond recall, Sarah moaned
loudly, her hips rising to meet his maddening thrusts, her fingers...free at
last...grasping his hair...directing his lips against her straining nipples.
John raised his head and watched as passion once again seized her
features...her lips opening wide in a silent scream...her eyes closed tightly
against the intrusion of the world.
It was then, and only then, that he allowed himself the release his body
cried out so desperately to achieve. Throwing his head back, he plunged
himself totally within her...again and again...her pleas for more an
aphrodisiac to his ears, until finally he found his own release and flooded
her with the moist heat from within him.
And then she collapsed, her body sated and gasping, her nipples still pebbled
as she lay, like warm Jello upon the bed beside him.
Gently, John nudged the bedspread from beneath her, and covered her still,
limp form. Then, sliding in behind her, he drew her within the warmth of his
embrace, his arms wrapped protectively around her, his lips nuzzling her
hairline.
My Darling Sarah, he thought, memorizing the curve of her lips. Nothing could
keep me from returning home...as long as you're here waiting for me.
She awoke, hours later, still surrounded by his warmth...his scent...the
touch of his body against her. She opened her eyes and gloried in the
presence of him. Not "Rambo", she thought... John Farrow...a
definite upgrade.
Silently. softly, she threaded her fingers through his hair. She'd never seen
it this long before. Two months away from the base barber had made a big
difference. Gone was the short Marine cut she was accustomed to seeing,
replaced instead by a length of wavy mane that reached almost to his
collar...she liked it.
Then her fingers came in contact with something odd. A raised
area...rough...raw against his scalp, hidden beneath his hairline.
John awoke with a start, grabbing her wrist as though to ward off a blow.
"John? What's that I feel...on your head? It feels like a scar or
something. It wasn't there before you left...I'd have noticed."
Realizing he still had her wrist in his grip, John released her, kissing the
reddened imprint of his hand on her flesh.
"It's not anything," he began. "just a scratch. I was out with
a Cobra crew, trying to get a lead on a recon team that had vanished, and
some Bozo took a potshot at me. Hey," he smiled, noting the panicked
look in her eyes, "Really...it wasn't anything at all!"
"Not anything? Not anything! How can you say that! A Somalian gunman
shoots you in the head while you're out doing SOMEONE ELSE'S job on
helicopter reconnaissance, and you want me to just shrug it off?"
"John, you have trained Marines to do that ...you don't have to be out
in the field yourself. It's not your job. You weren't even going to tell me,
were you?"
John sat upright, his eyes stern...his jaw set and intractable.
"First of all," he began, "it IS my job. Everything having to
do with that Unit is my job! I had men out there...I can't expect my troops
to follow a leader who'd just abandon them in a situation like that. They
wouldn't respect me...I wouldn't respect myself."
"Secondly...I wasn't shot...I was 'grazed'. My medic took a couple of
stitches and slapped a Band-Aid on it. I was back in the field ten minutes
later. It was NOTHING. And, no, I wasn't going to tell you about it. There's
nothing to tell...it was the equivalent of a paper cut."
"John," she said, her voice small and strained, "another
millimeter, and you would have gone home in a body bag. That isn't 'nothing'.
I asked you not to take any unnecessary risks...and instead you put yourself
in the line of fire. I can't understand this!"
"Sweetheart...another millimeter, and he would have missed me entirely,
and we wouldn't be having this conversation!"
He paused, gauging the words he was about to say. "Sarah...I'm a
soldier. It's what I do...it's what I am. You're a Marine. I thought you
could understand that."
"I have to get back to the office. I have two months worth of paperwork
waiting for me."
Silently, John dressed in his office uniform, his eyes averted...each afraid
to break the silence and risk saying something that could destroy the love
between them.
Finally, dressed and ready to leave, John settled on the side of the bed and
took her hand in his. "Sarah...I love you...more than I've ever loved
anyone in my life...but you have to understand. I can't change. This is who I
am. This is my life."
Wordlessly, she watched him rise and leave the room, the sound of the front
door echoing in the empty house.
Her eyes began to fill with unshed tears. Curling into a ball, she stared
into the emptiness of the room. "John...I thought I was your life."
she whispered softly.
May 14, 1993
Sarah's Apartment
Duke Univ. Campus
Things had been strained between them. The weekends had come and gone, but each
time either one or the other had come up with an excuse to forego their time
together.
Summer break had finally arrived.
The Corps had assigned Mac to paralegal duty at Quantico, 300 miles to the
north, until classes resumed in the fall.
One month before, Sarah would have taken this separation as a crushing
blow...hard to cope with, and harder still to live with. But after the past
month...it offered a blessed relief from the stress of their dying
relationship.
And so, cordially, almost formally, Sarah had bidden good-bye to John and
headed her ancient Jeep toward Virginia, leaving her lover, and taking only
the pain of their loss with her on the journey north.
June 30, 1993
Marine Corps Judge Advocate Division
Marine Base Quantico
Quantico, Virginia
Quantico was exciting!
Just minutes south of Washington D.C., it served both as the primary
headquarters for the Marine Corps, and the F.B.I. training grounds as well.
Mac's role, while minor, placed her squarely in the center of the busy whirl
that seasoned the atmosphere on the enormous Marine Base. At first it seemed
easy to bury the stress of her failing relationship with John beneath the
demands of her new job. But as the novelty began to wear off, she found the
core of her discontent just as dark and painful as it had been the day John
had returned from Somalia.
They'd written sporadically over the four weeks since her departure, but
neither had dared to pick up the phone and call...fearful that their last
words might indeed be their last.
Their correspondence, while not confrontational, was impersonal and lacking
the luster of lovers in a loving relationship.
As Sarah reread them over and over again, searching for some sign that he had
understood the fear that separated them, she realized, sadly, that they could
have been written by a distant cousin rather that the man she was suppose to
love...who was supposed to love her.
And so, as June wore on into July, and July approached August, John and Sarah
continued to drift farther and farther apart...each day more irretrievable
than the last.
It was on a rainy day, early in August that Mac looked up to find a young man
in civilian clothing, dripping by her desk in the outer office.
"May I help you, Sir?" she asked, her official facade in place.
"Well...I don't know. What did you have in mind?" he joked,
obviously appreciating the view.
"Something along legal lines Mr...Mr..."
"Muldar...Fox Muldar."
"Well, Mr. Muldar, what can the Judge Advocate's Office do for you this
afternoon?" she smiled, grateful for a friendly face when her life was
feeling so empty.
"Well, I came by to see Colonel Sheridan, but maybe you'd better take
care of him first...he looks like he needs it more."
Sarah turned her head, her breath suspended within her. There, standing in
the doorway, soaked to the skin, stood John Farrow.
Shakily, Sarah saluted her superior officer, but John didn't return the
gesture.
"John...Colonel...I'm surprised to see you here. How is everything at
Camp Lejeune?" she said, attempting a weak try at the appropriate
protocol.
"Sarah...we need to talk. When do you get off?" he asked without
preamble.
"I can leave for lunch right now...Sir." she replied nervously,
noting that they were not alone.
"Oh hey, don't mind me...I can find my own way back to Sheridan's
office." Muldar said, backing down the hall, a smirk on his face.
"Boy...talk about the 'new Marines'," he muttered as he vanished
down a corridor on the left.
Sarah grabbed her purse and an umbrella, and the two made their way out into
the storm toward his car, which was waiting at the curb.
"John," she began "I only have an hour for lunch, and I'm not
really hungry. Can't we just find somewhere to talk?"
"That sounds good to me, Sarah. I'd like that."
Silently, he drove along Fuller Road, turning south on Potomic Ave, and again
along River Road toward the town of Quantico. There, on a promontory
overlooking the river, he brought his car to a halt and sat staring at the
rain sheeting down the windshield.
"Sarah...I need to know...is it over between us? Is what I do so
terrible, that what we had is finished? I can't keep waiting for the other
shoe to fall. I need to know..." he repeated again, "I can't go on
this way."
"Oh John..." she rasped, her voice hoarse and strained, "I worried
so much when you were gone. I've had so much pain in my life...I just
couldn't take any more. So, I tried to put some distance between us...to push
the hurt away. But it didn't work. It's still there...stronger than
ever...and I'm the cause."
She swallowed hard, her voice failing, her eyes haunted and pleading.
"John...I'm sorry. I know that you did what you had to do, and that as a
Marine I should understand, but loving someone as much as I love you is like
giving hostages to fate...in the space of a heartbeat it can all be over. I
could lose you, and spend the rest of my life in mourning. I couldn't live
with that."
John tensed, sure that her next words would spell the end of them...the end
of everything.
Gently, Sarah took his hand in hers. "But I can't live without you
either. Without you I'm not really alive. I love you, John...I need
you."
Closing his eyes, John breathed a ragged sigh of relief. "Thank God,
Sarah...thank God."
Then hesitantly, as though for the first time, John pressed his lips to hers,
tasting first one corner, then the other, his hand coming to rest on the
curve of her hip.
John...John, I've missed you so." she cried. "Hold me...hold
me."
Obediently, John placed her atop his lap, pressed snugly between his body and
the steering wheel.
Sarah inhaled the masculinity of him, stroking his face as she once more
sought his lips, her touch becoming more frenzied with each moment.
"Sarah...we can't...not here. Let me pick you up after work. We'll have
the whole night to catch up on lost time," he gasped, feeling his
arousal pressing heatedly against her bottom.
"Touch me, John. Please...I've wanted to feel your hands touching me
again for so long. Please...touch me now. Don't make me wait..." she
breathed.
John groaned. This was reckless...impossible...but his hands longed for the
touch of her flesh as well, and he knew that it had to be.
Tenderly, his right hand began to stroke the satiny length of her thigh
beneath her skirt, caressing her buttocks, pulling her underwear and
pantyhose past her hips, and down the length of her legs. Then, dropping her
shoes to the floor, he added her undergarments to the tiny pile and began
once again to stroke beneath her skirt.
John leaned her back on his left arm, his lips claiming hers, his tongue
thrusting intimately, demandingly within her.
Breathlessly, Sarah felt his right hand slide between her thighs, working its
way maddeningly upward, his fingers probing between her wet curls, caressing
the slippery nub of her passion.
Sarah closed her eyes as the tension built within her, the proof of her
arousal flowing heatedly between her thighs.
And then she gasped...her body quaking under his intimate exploration, her
head thrown back as she filled the small enclosure with wordless acclaim.
"Oh John...I've missed you so much!"
"Sweetheart..." he breathed "you have no idea...".
Fall 1993
Durham, North Carolina
Summer passed blissfully for John and Sarah.
When the fall semester rolled around, Sarah once again resumed her studies as
a second-year law student at Duke, augmenting her basic studies with
individualized coursework involving the Uniform Code of Military Justice
(UCMJ) - the official written guideline for legal jurisprudence within the
military.
Sarah was enjoying her independent study course immensely, and opted to write
a comprehensive report outlining suggestions for the remediation of gender
bias and sexual harassment within the military.
As summer became just another memory, the rolling hills of North Carolina
began to shed their garb of green and take on the colors of autumn. Sarah,
tired of her forced isolation in the world of academia, felt the urge to get
out into the countryside and take in the wonders of nature before the snow
began to fall. And so, on a glorious weekend in October, John and Sarah drove
out to Rougemont and rented a pair of saddle horses for an overnight trip
into the blazing foothills of Appalachia.
The air was crisp as they set out along the trail, their saddlebags filled,
and their warm, down sleeping bag stowed behind Sarah's back. Northward they
rode, exploring the creeks and inlets along the shores of Falls Lake,
stopping periodically to stretch and rest the horses.
At long last they came to a small clearing beside a clear spring flowing lazily
into the lake. There, with the autumn sun setting in the west, they made camp
and settled themselves in for the night.
While John tethered the horses by the stream, Sarah gathered firewood and
began to lay the ground cloth upon which their double sleeping bag would
rest.
John had offered to pack the provisions for the trip, but Sarah, knowing that
military MREs (Meals Ready to Eat) would be the order of the day, had
tactfully suggested that she be in charge of that department. And so, when
John returned from tending the horses, he found Sarah kneeling before a
blazing fire, a pan of bannock bread sizzling before her, and two chubby
baking potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil nestled among the coals.
"Mmmm, looks good," he smiled, his eyes following the curve of her
buttocks as she tended the fire.
"John..." she warned, "I know that tone. This isn't a
microwave, you know. I can't just come back to it later. I have to keep my
eye on it, or we'll have 'burnt offerings' for supper."
"Well, lets see here," he mused, kneeling behind her, his arms
encircling her waist. "These potatoes will probably take another
hour..." he assessed, his lips descending the line of her neck.
"And this bannock..." he tapped a finger against the crusty surface
of a patty, will do nicely all banked up right over here." He reached
between her thighs and grasped the handle of the cast iron skillet, moving it
to the side. "And...what's this?" he asked, raising a silvery
packet from the rocks before her.
"Freeze dried t-bones." she offered, her pulse skipping a beat.
"I thought..."
"I like my meat rare," he whispered into the stillness of the early
dusk. "I think we could put these off on the side of the pit, and let
nature take its course."
Nature indeed, she thought, feeling the warmth of the fire between her
thighs, and the heat of his body pressed intimately against her backside.
Silently, John guided her across the clearing, his hands stripping her blouse
and bra, freeing her breasts in the crisp mountain air...her nipples puckering
under the chilled assault.
"Now I'm really hungry," he whispered huskily, his fingers
caressing her hardened peaks.
She heard a "pop" as the snap of her jeans give way, and felt the
warmth of his hands below her waistband, lowering her pants, kneading the
firm roundness of her buttocks.
Sarah pressed her hips against him, feeling the prominence of his manhood
prodding intimately against her abdomen.
"Oh John," she breathed, her words muffled as he slid his tongue
between her lips. "Take off your clothes...I want to feel you against
me..."
Swiftly, John pulled his shirt over his head and reached for the buckle of
his belt. In no time at all, his pants were piled on the mossy ground, his
full erection wrapped in the last rays of the day.
Sarah dropped to her knees atop the sleeping bag, hungrily eyeing his massive
offering.
"My love..." she whispered into the darkness...what about
appetizers?"
As the glow of the flames cast their soft shadow across the earth, John
lowered himself onto their sylvan bed and rolled invitingly onto his back.
"John...?" Sarah asked questioningly.
Saying not a word, her lover claimed her hand and drew her down atop of his
eager body, spreading her legs as though mounting her steed once again.
Then, nudging her forward, he positioned her intimately above his questing
lips.
"John!" she flushed, withdrawing slightly, unsure of her response.
"I'm so 'out here'...what if someone sees us?"
"Let 'em get their own girl." he grinned wickedly. "You're
taken."
Sarah gasped as his tongue began its silken invasion deep within her wet
folds, his hands cupping her buttocks, holding her intimately against his
hungering lips.
Sarah's felt the strength ebb from her thighs, her body losing
control...losing balance.
Then John's strong hands were around her rib cage... supporting
her...stroking her nipples with his work-roughened thumbs.
Sarah felt a familiar tightness growing deep inside of her, he breath
becoming shallow...ragged. A wave of sexual electricity sweep over her,
consuming her, turning her bones to jelly. If not for the support of his
strong, competent hands, she would have fallen to the ground... helpless at
his touch.
Lifting her once again, John placed her astride his massive erection, waiting
for her to engulf his turgid member. But Sarah had other thoughts.
"Not this time, Colonel...I intend to be fed." she grinned,
lowering her head to his massive organ, her tongue stroking its full, rigid
head...her lips tugging him deep inside her.
Now it was John's turn to gasp. "Sweetheart...if you keep that up,
you'll most certainly get your wish!"
Unable to find enough room to accommodate his impressive member, Sarah
trailed her hands along his distended shaft, feeling it pulse uncontrollably
beneath her fingertips, hearing his erratic breathing deepen and fill the
stillness.
"Sarah," he groaned, as she tasted the first salty drops upon her
tongue. "Sarah!...Stop!...Red Light! I want to come inside of you...not
this way"
Quickly, John reached between his legs and lifted her once again above his
throbbing erection. Then, grasping her hips firmly between his hands, he
began to thrust upward, driving deep inside her belly.
Sarah felt him fill her, his massive tool plunging harder, deeper than ever
before. Like putty in his hands, she leaned forward, bringing the delicate
bud of her desire into contact with his thrusting hardness, feeling her own
release once again building within her.
Lost in the whirlwind, Sarah threw back her head in wild abandon, her cries
of passion carrying in the chill mountain breeze. She felt his moist heat
fill her core as his body shuddered and he followed her to a private world,
formed by the union of their bodies.
"You're a wild man!" she gasped, her body laying sated upon him.
"You take my breath away, my love..."
"Sweetheart...you ARE my breath...and my heartbeat...and my life. I
don't know how I could live without you...I'm not sure I could."
"Say," she asked, her pulse finally slowing to a manageable level.
"What was that 'red light' thing about?"
"I don't know...I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to warn you to stop. It
just popped out, I guess." he responded sheepishly. "Silly,
huh?"
"No...I like it. Maybe I can use it in my paper on gender bias and
sexual harassment in the military."
"Of course, then there's always 'green light'," she smiled, licking
his flat, hard nipples, "and 'yellow light' has some really exciting
possibilities..."
"Oh, Sarah...you're insatiable..."
January, 1994
John's home, Courthouse Bay
Camp Lejeune, N.C.
John got word of his new deployment just after the first of the year. In
support of United Nations "Operation Continue Hope", he and his men
had been ordered back to Somalia.
Determined not to let this come between them again, Sarah pasted a pleasant
facade upon her face when her lover was present, and saved her fearful tears
for the loneliness of the night.
Once again, she watched as his Humvee vanished down the length of Front
Street, taking the love of her life far away, into the arms of danger.
Silently holding the tears at bay, she closed up his Courthouse Bay home and
drove away in her Jeep...his pillow tucked into the seat beside her. She had
to be strong for both of them...she needed to be a Marine... and Marines
didn't cry.
And so, her throat aching for want of him, her eyes filled with unshed tears,
she returned to Durham and her studies...and the long, tortuous wait ahead.
|
|
April 30, 1994
John Farrow's Home
Courthouse Bay
John was finally home!
Sarah was exuberant. Anxiously she awaited his arrival home, all of his
favorite foods stocked in the pantry and 'fridge...his particular brand of
scotch...candlelight... a romantic evening in the works.
At long last they were together. The wait was over, and the world was
complete once more.
They spent the night lying in each other's arms, touching and being touched,
making long, slow love to beat of their hearts.
Morning found them twined together like tendrils of ivy, their bodies as one,
their breathing deep and undisturbed.
Finally, warmed by the light of day, John and Sarah reached for each other
once more, and again celebrated the joys of life in each other's arms.
John chose that moment, as she lay sated and content in his embrace, to give
her the bad news.
"Sweetheart...I've got something to tell you. You're not going to like
it...but I have no choice here."
"John...what is it?" she asked, rising from her lethargy. "Oh,
John...you weren't hurt again, were you?"
"No, Sweetheart...that's not it. It's just...well...it's just that we're
not staying. I have only this week, then my unit is shipping out again for the
Adriatic...to a place called Bosnia. United Nations troops are being deployed
into the region to stop an internal massacre of civilians in what the Bosnian
Serbs call "ethnic cleansing". We're going to lend support to an
international NATO force in operations "Provide Promise", and
"Deny Flight".
Sarah was thunderstruck. He was leaving in only one week? The thought was
incomprehensible!
"John...I don't know what to say..." she rasped, misery and despair
overwhelming her.
She swallowed her tears, a hard lump sticking in her throat.
"I didn't want to tell you last night, Sweetheart. I wanted us to have
one night together before I had to start getting ready to leave again."
"Tell me you understand..." he said softly, his lips pressed
against the curve of her throat. "Sarah...leaving you hurts worse than
anything that could ever happen in battle...please tell me you understand. I
have to go. I have no choice."
She couldn't speak...couldn't breath. She wouldn't allow herself to cry.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging silently to the
precious moments left in her care...and let the tears flow in her heart.
October 30, 1994
Marine Base Quantico
Quantico, Virginia
Sarah was in the middle of her legal internship at Quantico.
Six months had passed. The small pile of letters she'd collected in her
nightstand drawer had grown, and now lay in a bundled sheaf, gathered within
the confines of a large old jewelry box. She'd reread them over and over
again, until the creases had grown frail, and the paper had begun to tear and
fall apart. Their one-dimensional relationship was no longer enough. Even his
pillow had forgotten his scent.
And then the wait was over.
After a six month deployment in Bosnia, John was finally returning home.
Surely the 24th MEU would be allowed some "down" time after two
consecutive assignments?
Smiling, Sarah thought of the months to come...
Thanksgiving...Christmas...the New Year, all in the arms of the man she
loved.
She had only six months left in law school, maybe they could begin to make
plans for the future...their future...together.
Upon their return, John had given his battalion a week's 'leave' to become
reacquainted with their loved ones, and reaffirm the values that they were
giving their last measure to preserve throughout the world.
John, himself, paused only long enough to shower, shave and repack, the
climbed gratefully into his Humvee and turned northward toward Quantico.
"John!"
Sarah was beside herself with joy. He was here...he was FINALLY here!
Ignoring the dictates of protocol, the two stood in the middle of the Marine
JAG office, holding each other as though eternity had come to an end...each
lost in the 'oneness' that had finally come to pass.
"John...You're really here." she smiled, tracing the small wrinkles
that had grown at the corners of his eyes. "I can't believe it. It's
been so long..."
"Sarah...can we go somewhere...away from the base, for a while? Any
chance you could get the rest of the day off?"
"Give me a minute." she grinned happily. "I'll see what I can
do."
Quickly, Sarah paid a visit to her C.O.'s office. She returned moments later,
wreathed in pure joy, and grabbed her purse from behind her desk.
"I have the rest of the week off, John. What exactly did the colonel
have in mind?"
Six days...that was as long as he had.
"Let's head back down to Courthouse Bay, Sweetheart. But first, there's
something I have to talk to you about. We need to go out to my Humvee and
talk."
Wordlessly, John drove to their spot overlooking the river, and set the
emergency brake.
Sarah's eyes were dark with worry, her expression somber and puzzled.
"John...what is it? You're scaring me..."
John rested his left hand on the steering wheel, his right hand massaging the
bridge of his nose.
"Sarah...I know how hard this has been on you. It may not seem that
way...but I do. I just...love you so much. But I can't stand to see you hurt
anymore, particularly by me."
"John? What are you saying? Why are you telling me this?"
"Sarah...we're leaving again in a week. The 24th is being deployed to
Haiti."
She closed her eyes, her mind reeling from the blow. How could he be leaving
her again?
"Sweetheart...I don't want you to wait for me this time," he said.
Sarah's chin sagged, her mouth hanging slack and useless. In the course of a
sentence, John had stolen the air and sunshine from her life.
She tried to speak, but words failed her. She tried to breathe, but her body
refused to cooperate. She tried not to cry, but the tears began to flow in
mindless runnels down the pale ravages of her face.
"Sarah," he continued, realizing that he had driven her beyond the
ability to respond. "Sweetheart...my Darling, this is what I mean. I
can't let you go on living like this...waiting forever, and then having me
turn around and leave...never knowing when we'll be together again, or for
how long."
Sarah began to puff gently between her lips...small quick breaths...trying
desperately to regain control of her body and mind.
She had to tell him that even though it was hard...she couldn't live without
him. That the brief times they were able to share were worth more than most
people had in a lifetime. She needed to let him know that no matter where he
went, or for how long...she would always be waiting. Like him...she had no
choice...he was her life.
She wanted to say so much...needed to say so much...but the words refused to
come.
In desperation, she pressed her lips to his, hoping against hope that her
unspoken message was clear, that he indeed heard the words she was unable to
say.
"Sarah...my sweet Sarah," he breathed, his voice trembling with
emotion. "How could I have lived without you..."
He'd heard.
Same Day
John's Home in Courthouse Bay
Later that afternoon.
Silently, Sarah looked at the small packet of birth control pills in her
hand...20 pink...7 blue...1 empty...all that stood between her and the child
she so desperately wanted. She gazed again at the small pink tablet in her
palm, hating the very touch of it. Angrily, she threw it into the sink and
washed it from her view. It was time to talk to John.
Her heart pounding, she walked back into the bedroom at Courthouse Bay and
slid into bed beside her lover.
Warm in the afterglow of their lovemaking...the first in six months... John
tugged her against him, enfolding her in his arms. Gently, as though to
reassure himself that she was really there, he began to stroke the softness
of her shoulders, the bare line of her back. Tenderly, he reached down and
took her hand in his, attempting to raise her palm to his lips...but it was
already filled.
"What's this?" he questioned, a dim wariness growing in the pit of
his stomach.
Sarah opened her hand and let the small packet drop to the firm planes of his
chest.
"What do you have here," he asked, knowing full well what her
answer would be. "birth control pills?"
"John, please...can't we talk about this?" she pleaded. "I
know how YOU feel, but I need to make you understand how I feel..."
"Sarah..."
"No, John. Let me talk." she said, touching her fingertip to his
lips. "I have to say this. I have to make you hear me."
The look in her eyes was more than he could bear. This was no idle
request...it came from deep within her being.
Mutely, he cupped her chin in his hand, his thumb stroking the soft contours
of her cheek, and waited for her to continue.
"John...I want a baby."
There. She's said it. The words that had once filled her mind were now free
to find a home in the great world beyond...free to blossom and grow in her
lover's heart, or die an unanswered death in the silence of the room.
"I know how you feel, my love. I know that you don't want to leave me
and your child alone while you put your life on the line half way around the
world...but I can't agree."
Silently, she placed his hand on her abdomen. "John...I want to feel you
here. I want to know that part of you is growing inside of me. I want to know
that no matter what happens, there will always be this bond between us,
linking us...connecting us...even though we're thousands of miles apart. I
want to give you a gift that no other woman could ever give you...our
child."
John felt her body, warm against his palm, and stared deeply into her eyes.
"This means that much to you, Sarah?"
She nodded, pressing his palm once more against her womb.
Hesitantly, John removed his hand and picked up the small packet that still
lay on his chest, his eyes misting with an emotional intensity that filled
his soul.
"Are you sure about this, Sarah? Are you very sure?"
Again, she nodded.
"Then so am I, my love."
And so, flexing his wrist, he sent the small packet sailing through the air,
deep into the waste basket on the other side of the room.
"Let's make a baby, my love..."
November 7, 1994
Bachelor Officer's Quarters
Marine Corps Base Quantico
She was alone again.
As though trapped in a never-ending cycle, John had once more slung his
duffel over his shoulder and headed for the New River Air Station for his
current deployment.
This time, however, he had left Sarah with new hope, a bright shining promise
of new life...the possibility of a child.
Their passion had taken on a new intensity during the previous week. The
thought that each coupling of their bodies could spell the beginning of a new
life, made each joining magical and unique. Each time they made love...each
time she felt him deep inside of her, she wondered..."will this be the
time?"
Pensively, she stroked her stomach. "Let it be," she
prayed..."Let it be."
But fate was against it. Two weeks later, Sarah felt the onset of her monthly
cycle, and knew that her brief romance with motherhood was over.
Alone in her apartment...alone in her life, Sarah sobbed into the emptiness
until there were no more tears to shed, and the ache within her had settled
into a familiar pattern.
How could she tell John?
Once he'd embraced the idea, he'd become positively obsessed with the thought
of becoming a father. He'd begun watching her with a strange little
half-smile on his face, as though wondering what their child would look like.
Would he have her dark, bedroom eyes? Would she be blond, as he had been in
his youth. Would he have to fend the lotharios off of his porch to keep his
precious daughter from falling under the spell of some itchy little Marine
private? They'd talked about so much...shared so much...and now she would
have to tell him that it had all come to naught.
My poor, sweet John, she thought...it was hard enough on her, but he would
have to endure the loss far from home, under fire in the sweltering jungles
of Haiti.
It would be an impossible letter to write, but it had to be done.
|
|
January 22, 1995
Central Campus Apts.
Duke University
The holidays had been painful.
All around her she felt the warmth of the season...the glow of familial
love...but not for her.
Sarah had spent her Christmas alone in her apartment on campus, her
internship completed, and the apartment complex empty as thousands of
students traveled home for the holidays.
Though she'd written to John every day, nothing could compensate for his
absence, and the loneliness she felt became a haunting projection of him, far
away in the brutal jungles of a foreign land.
It was with great relief that she once again resumed her studies on campus.
At long last, her final semester was at hand. Customizing her coursework
toward military application, Sarah was taking an Individualized Course,
focussing this time on the area of international jurisdictional disputes in
the prosecution of American military personal abroad. With so much strife in
the world, she felt that this was a critical area of legal study for a
military lawyer.
Then, on February 17, two letters arrived in the mail. The first, a letter
from John, she opened immediately. Memorizing each word, she began to devour
its contents.
He was coming home!
The 22nd MEU was to relieve John's unit on the 20th of February, and they
would be home soon after.
The second envelope lay forgotten on the countertop, as Sarah read John's
letter again and again, the words filling her eyes with tears, and her heart
with joy.
Then, finally placing it aside, she noticed the last of her mail lying on the
counter.
Her breath caught in her throat. It had an official Marine Corps seal. Could
something have happened to John?
Trembling, she carefully slit the top and removed the single sheet from
within. It wasn't about John. It was about her. She had just received her
post-graduation assignment.
As of April 30, 1995, Sarah would be posted as the legal officer to the 29th
Marine Fighter Attack Squadron, in Aviano, Italy...a unit assigned to aerial
reconnaissance over Bosnia..
March 5, 1995
John Farrow's Home
Courthouse Bay
Camp Lejeune, N.C.
John was home at last.
Though her final semester was rapidly coming to a close, and "moot
court" was just around the corner, Sarah had packed her books and was
waiting as usual when her lover walked through the door.
He looked tired, the gleam in his bright, blue eyes dulled by fatigue. The
holocaust of war was taking its toll...he needed rest.
Their love-making, hurried and aggressive during past reunions, was now
gentle and prolonged, as though to make each moment last an eternity.
Affected by the memory of the atrocities he'd witnessed in Bosnia and Haiti,
John wrapped his arms protectively around his beloved, drawing her close to
his body, shielding her from the horrors that still claimed his
consciousness.
"I see you brought your books along this time." he observed,
glancing at her book-bag lying on the dresser. "Less than two months
now, Sarah, and you'll be done. You must be excited."
"I am, John. Of course I am, but there's something we should talk
about."
"Is it about the baby? If it is...you won't have to convince me
again...I want a baby as much as you do. After what I've seen in Bosnia and
Haiti...maybe more. There has to be an affirmation of life somewhere. I'd
like it to start with us."
"John...that's just it...we can't start a baby now."
He looked puzzled. Had she given up on them finally?
"John...I just received my orders. I've been assigned to join the 29th
Marine Aircraft Wing as their legal liaison on April 30th.
John bolted upright, his face stern, his body tense.
"That's a Bosnian reconnaissance unit, Sarah! It may be in Italy, but their
active deployment area is the no-fly zone over Bosnia! You can't go!"
It wasn't a request...it was an order...and it didn't sit well.
"What do you mean...I 'can't go'. You said it yourself a dozen times
over...this isn't a choice. I didn't ask for this assignment, but now that
it's been made, I HAVE to go."
"Sarah...you don't. I can fix it. I have connections... important people
'owe' me. I could have you reassigned to Lejeune...or Quantico if you like,
but not Bosnia!"
"John," she began, knowing full well what he was going through,
"you never used your connections to keep YOURSELF out of harm's way. I
can't let you 'pull strings' for me either. The Corps has given me
everything...a new life...I have obligations just like you do. How can you tell
me not to go?"
Frantically, John pulled on his pants and began to pace the floor.
"Sarah..." he began, desperately searching for the words that would
dissuade her. "You don't know what you're saying! I know that as
'support personnel' you won't be in the line of fire, but sometimes things
happen...people end up where they're not supposed to be. I can't risk that.
You don't know what it's like over there..."
"John...I know as much as any other Marine assigned to combat duty.
There's no difference...unless you think that sleeping with an MEU Colonel
makes me exempt!"
It was a low blow...and it hurt. But she was right. She was going to make a
great lawyer...she'd already won THIS case.
John sank into a chair on the far side of the room, his eyes glued to her determined
features. Futilely, he searched for an argument that would keep her
home...keep her safe. But there was none. As the life-blood drained from his
face, he accepted defeat. Sarah was going to war.
May 1, 1995
Aviano Air Base, Italy
Sarah stepped off of the transport beneath the bright, blue skies of northern
Italy. All around her she could see the F-18 "Hornets" gearing up
for their daily runs into the "no-fly" zone of Bosnia. She was
truly here. This was war.
A young Marine corporal met her at the gate.
"Captain MacKenzie, Ma'am?" he saluted. "I'm corporal Simpson,
Ma'am. I've been assigned to help get you 'squared away, and deliver you to
Colonel Clemens' office ASAP, Ma'am."
Mac returned the salute, then allowed the corporal to stow her gear in the
back of his Jeep for the ride to her quarters.
The airstrip at Aviano was similar to the one at New River, and probably
similar to American military airstrips everywhere. Silently, Sarah gazed at
the departure gate, remembering her parting moments with John at the New
River terminal at Camp Lejeune.
He'd been upset, but that was predictable. He'd been hurt, but that was
understandable. He'd been desperate...but that wasn't like him.
John had spent the better part of their last few weeks together trying to
find new ways to undermine her resolve. The issue had become
insurmountable...they'd quarreled often and loudly, but Sarah had remained
strong. She'd had to adjust to John's deployments...and now it was his turn.
She had a job to do, and she was going to do it. They'd parted badly.
Now, thousands of miles from home, Sarah wished he could be there to drown
her insecurities in the deep, liquid blue of his eyes, the warm security of
his embrace. But it was time to stand on her own two feet.
Quickly, she dropped her gear off at the BOQ and was driven to headquarters
to meet her new commanding officer, Colonel Josh Clemens.
Firmly she tapped on the outer door to Colonel Clemens' office.
"Enter." responded the voice from within.
"Captain MacKenzie, reporting for duty, Sir!" Mac saluted.
"At ease, Captain. Take a seat."
"Yes Sir, thank you, Sir."
Colonel Josh Clemens was a trim, vigorous-looking man in his mid-forties.
Though his smile was contagious, he was obviously a man who knew how to command.
Mac lowered herself into a nearby chair, her initial assessment of her new
C.O. a positive one.
"Captain, I wanted to let you know what our legal requirements are, for
you, right off the bat. We've needed a new legal officer for quite a while,
so you'll have your work cut out for you."
"Yes Sir," Mac replied. I'm more than ready to go, Sir."
"First off, did you know that I requested you specifically for this
assignment, Captain?"
"No Sir, I wasn't aware of that, Sir." Mac replied, puzzled.
"Well, I did, Captain. Your recent work on international jurisdictional
disputes is sorely needed here. I felt you were the best 'man' for the job.
Was I right?"
"Yes Sir! I'll do my best, Sir." she replied, confused that he
should feel it necessary to confirm her devotion to duty.
"The reason I ask, Captain, is because I received a personal communiqué
from an old friend this morning...Colonel John Farrow. I assume you're
familiar with him?"
Mac frowned, her voice strained and distraught. "Yes, Sir. I know Colonel
Farrow."
"Yes...well, Colonel Farrow apparently has some reservations about
you're being here. He asked that I take personal responsibility for your
welfare while in my chain of command."
Mac sat silently, her demeanor tense and stricken.
"Captain...let me be blunt. I'm not in the habit of treating my Marines
like children. Is there something that I should be aware of here?"
"Colonel. May I speak freely, Sir?"
"Proceed, by all means, Captain."
"Sir, With all due respect, Colonel Farrow was out of line in requesting
special treatment in my case. I neither expect nor require it, Sir. You would
be doing me a great service if you would disregard that communiqué,
Sir."
Wordlessly, Clemens assessed his new legal officer. So that was it, he
rightly concluded. After all this time, John Farrow had finally met a woman
he couldn't let go of, and it was eating him up.
"Consider it done, Captain." he replied, satisfied with her
response. "Now...on to more important matters. You're aware that our
current mission is reconnaissance over the no-fly zone in Bosnia?"
"Yes Sir, I know that, Sir."
Clemens nodded, handing her a large stack of dossiers. "Many of these,
Captain, involve supposedly civilian complaints from Bosnian Serbs concerning
altercations with Marine military within the boundaries of Bosnia. I suspect
that most of them are nothing more than a legal effort to undermine our
intervention in this war, but that's what I need you to find out."
Mac scanned the folders in her hands. "But Sir, some of this is written
in Serbian. My exposure to that language is extremely limited. Is there
someone on base who would be able to translate?"
"Yes, we have a number of translators and language instructors who can
be of service initially. But since you may be required to enter secured areas
within Bosnia to gather information and speak to witnesses, in the long run
your effectiveness will be limited unless you yourself become acquainted with
the language."
"I understand that you currently speak Russian, Farsi and Japanese."
"Yes Sir, that's correct, Sir,"
"Your obvious language facility was another reason for my request.
That's why I've assigned a tutor to work with you. He assures me, that with
your background you should be able to master the rudiments in short order,
Captain. Do you agree."
"Yes sir, I'll do my best, Sir."
"Very well, then. Is there anything you need, Captain...any word you'd
like me to pass along to Colonel Farrow?"
"No Sir," she replied, "None."
"Good. You're dismissed. Keep me informed of your progress."
"Yes Sir!" Mac saluted. Then, gathering her massive case load in
her arms, she retreated to her quarters to begin sorting through the stack.
May 5, 1995
John Farrow's Office
Camp Lejeune, N.C.
"Colonel Farrow here."
"Hello. John? It's Josh Clemens...returning your call."
"Josh! It's about time! How is everything?"
"If you mean 'how is Sarah MacKenzie', she's fine."
John paused. "Yeah...I guess that IS what I mean. How's she doing,
Josh?"
"According to my reports, she doing very well. She's already begun on a
number of English-language-based cases, and her tutor tells me that he's
never seen anyone pick up Serbian as quickly. She's a real asset."
"Serbian? Why do you have her studying Serbian?" You're in
Italy!"
"John...most of these jurisdictional disputes occurred in Bosnia. She
can't stay in Italy forever. Eventually, she's going to have to go on
in."
"You're sending her into Bosnia!!"
"Hey...hey, calm down. As a non-combatant, she'll only be allowed into
secured areas. You know that."
The phone remained silent as John digested this latest bit of information.
"John?" Clemens prodded, "you still there?"
"Yeah...I'm here."
"I think you need to 'lighten up', John. This woman is a Marine Captain,
and she appears to be a good one. All she wants is a chance to do her job. I
plan to let her do just that."
"Yeah...I know." he affirmed, his voice flat and impassive.
"And John...just so you know...I told her about your communiqué. She
wasn't pleased. She said that she neither 'expects not requires' special
treatment. That's from the horse's mouth, John. I think maybe you
underestimate her."
"Maybe, Josh, maybe. To be honest, I'm not sure who I'm trying to
protect more...her or me."
June 2, 1995
Colonel Josh Clemens' Office
Marine Air Station
Aviano, Italy
"She's not here, John."
"What do you mean, 'she's not here'?" I leave my troops in Bosnia,
and hop a transport to Italy to see Sarah, and you tell me that she's not
here? Where is she?"
"Well, right now she's supposed to be in Sarajevo, collecting affidavits
for a supposed rape case. She should be moving on to Ggornji Vakuf in a few
days to investigate allegations of an assault on a civilian there. She won't
be back for at least a week, John. She's out there doing her job! Where's the
24th been deployed this time?"
We're near Tuzla. Might as well be a million miles away."
"Right in the middle of it, huh?"
"Yeah...things have lightened up for a day or two though. The Serbs blew
up a bridge over the Drina, right in our path...there's nothing we can do
until the 586th brings in a temporary bridge to get my tanks and artillery
across. So we wait."
"Yeah...I'm aware of that situation. I have air recon surveying that
area right now. We should have some news of Serb troop deployment in a few
hours. Can you wait? I've got a bottle of that scotch you like...maybe we can
talk."
"Sounds like a plan to me, Josh. Bring it on."
Two hours passed, and the warm glow of Josh's good scotch had made both men
mellow and talkative.
They'd discussed a lot of things during their wait...caught up on 'old
times', but the main topic of conversation had been Sarah.
"I never thought she would end up over here, Josh. If I had, I would
have started pulling strings long ago. Now it's too late...she won't let me
help."
"Maybe she doesn't want you to help, John, at least not in that
way."
"What do you mean?"
"How many times have you deployed during your relationship with
Mac?"
"Five...including this one...why?"
"And what was her reaction."
"She hated it. We almost broke up over it the first time."
"But she's still with you. Why do you think that is?"
"Because I told her..." he paused, "It's not the same thing,
damn it!"
"Isn't it, John? You know, we're both old 'war horses'... we've been at
this game a long time. Wherever you've been, I've been there too, so I'm
speaking from experience. This is not some little 'hostess' you picked up on
furlough. This is one incredible gal...and even though I personally don't
understand what she sees in you... it sounds like you've got a good thing
going. Don't blow it. Treat her like some mindless Bimbo, and you'll lose
her."
"And what makes you such an expert on women? I've never seen a ring on
your finger."
Josh smiled. "I couldn't deal with the 'rules of engagement'. Anyway, I
may not know women, John, but I know Marines...and she's a good one. She
deserves your respect...don't undermine her. Let her do her job."
The reconnaissance photos were in. As John had suspected, Serbian troops were
massing on the eastern side of the Drina, waiting for the 24th to make its
move.
There had been a further complication, however. One of Clemens' F-18s had
been shot down behind the build-up of enemy troops, to the east, near the
town of Broko on the Serbian border.
Lieutenant Charles 'Chuck' O'Day had apparently been able to activate his
homing beacon, but while high altitude aerial photographs of the crash site
were available, air rescue was not possible at that location due to the
positioning of enemy deployments.
He would prpbably head west, toward Tuzla, so that a force recon team from
the 24th could implement a 'tactical recovery' from the area. But how was he
to know where his 'pick-up' point would be, or that a westward deployment
would take him squarely into the massing Serb strike force that awaited the
24th on the eastern side of the Drina?
He needed information...his life depended on it.
June 3, 1995
Marine Command Headquarters
Sarajevo, Bosnia
"I'm the best person for the job, Sir." Mac asserted.
"I speak the language...my coloring blends in anywhere...and no one
would suspect a woman of a lone recon mission behind enemy lines. I AM the
best you've got at the moment...if you don't let me go in, then Chuck O'Day
is as good as dead."
"It's precisely because you ARE a woman, Captain, that I won't send you
in."
Clemens watched as Mac began to build toward the inevitable explosion.
"Now before you have me up on charges...let me clarify my position. This
has nothing to do with your capabilities. As a Marine, I have the utmost
respect to your competence, but in this case...being a woman puts you at
additional risk. I'm sure you're aware of the atrocities that have gone on
where women are concerned, Captain. I'd hate to think what would happen to
you if you were captured."
"Sir, Marines put their lives on the line every day. I'm aware of the
additional risks involved, and believe me, I've given this careful
consideration...but the fact remains...I'm still the best person for the job.
I speak the language, I've been fully briefed, and I can be at the Drina,
ready for deployment within two hours. I can do this, Colonel. Do you have
anyone else with those qualifications?
"No, Captain." he said, tension etched across his brow. "I
don't." The Colonel sighed. Why had he ever wanted this job anyway?
"Captain, you'd better be right...I have no idea what I could say to a
senate investigating committee if this goes sour..."
"All right, then...pick up your gear. You'll need a homing device to
find him...some local civilian wear...emergency rations and medical
supplies...and transportation to the front. When you reach O'Day, you can use
a two-way radio to notify the recon team, but until then you'll have to
maintain radio silence...the Serbs can triangulate on your signal. You won't
last long once that 'make' you. I'll have someone get everything you
need."
"Yes Sir." Mac answered, unsure that she hadn't just bitten off
more than she could chew.
"Oh...and Captain..."
"Yes Sir?"
"You'll be contacting the 24th EMU at the Drina for a means of
insertion...John Farrow's unit...can you handle it?"
"Yes Sir." she said, her tone a facade, "I can handle it,
Sir."
"Carry on then, Captain, and good luck."
"Yes Sir!"
As Mac left to 'gear up', Clemens reached for the phone to alert the 24th
MEU. John was going to hate this, he thought. John was going to hate him.
June 2, 1995
224th MEU Encampment
On the Banks of the Drina
Bosnia
John was waiting when she arrived...and he wasn't happy.
"This is crazy, Sarah! You don't have any idea what you're getting
yourself into! I'm not letting you go!"
"John...you don't have any choice. I'm no longer in your command,
remember? I have my orders. You can't stop me!"
"Like hell I can't! I don't care if I spend the rest of my life in
Levenworth. I don't care if you hate me for the rest of YOUR life...you're
not going in! I won't allow it!"
He meant it. She'd never seen him like this. He was a rock...hard and
unmovable. Something had to be done.
"John...there's a man out there whose life depends on me getting to him.
O'Day will die unless he gets help, and I'm the best person to give it to
him. Can you do it? Do you speak Serbian?"
He was unwavering.
"Well, I do, John. Maybe you can live with abandoning him...but I can't.
You have 2200 Marines under your command...would you leave one of your men
behind?"
He still stood in her path, physically blocking her exit from his command
tent, but she could tell she was getting to him.
"John, I've stood by you so many times...when you were deployed to
Somalia, Haiti... here. I tried to understand, even when I knew that my
acceptance could mean the end of everything. How can you stand there and tell
me that you won't do the same thing for me? I HAVE to do this, John...and you
have to stand out of my way."
"Sarah..." he coaxed softly, desperately, "don't do this,
please. You don't know what you're doing to me."
"Yes I do, John."' she replied, her voice a whisper. "Who
could know better?"
Night fell, and Sarah made her way downstream to where the black, rubber
Zodiac waited to ferry her across to the eastern shore of the Drina.
Her pack, a small cloth satchel which added to the illusion of her local
origins, was slung over her shoulder. Carefully, she dropped it into the bottom
of the boat as its navigator began to help her aboard.
"John? What are you doing here?" she asked, startled to find John
Farrow at the 'helm', dressed in local garb.
"If you won't give this up...then I'm going with you!" he asserted,
leaving no room for argument. "I've been back and forth over this
terrain half a dozen times in the last year. I know the lay of the land...you
don't. I also know where the minefields are. Without me, you're just throwing
your life away. One wrong step, and you and O'Day are both gone."
"Minefields? John, I have maps to get me past the minefields."
"Maps are next to useless where mines are concerned. There are three
clusters between here and Broko alone. I'll bet that map of yours only has
one. I've been there...I have field experience...you need me. Now either get
in, or I'm leaving without you." he ordered brusquely.
Sarah was stunned. He was adamant. Already he was preparing to push off from
the shore. She could now see where John had gotten his reputation in combat.
"Wait! I'm coming." she replied, slipping into the prow. "And
John..."
"What?"
"Thank you."
June 4, 1995
Somewhere Behind Enemy Lines
Bosnia
For the next 48 hours they traveled mostly at night, avoiding the main
roadways, and keeping well off the beaten path.
Serbian troops were everywhere. More than once Sarah's facility with the
local language had come in handy in translating much needed information
gleaned from local farmers, helping them to avoid confrontations with the
military.
By the morning of the third day, they were approaching the outskirts of the
town of Broko. Safely maneuvering an unmarked minefield, John and Sarah took
refuge in an abandoned barn, tucked within the surrounding forest, to wait
until nightfall.
According to John's homing device, O'Day was near...they anticipated making
contact late that evening, if in fact the young aviator was still alive.
In the meantime, John created a hiding place in the loft, and the two of them
settled down to rest...and wait.
Exhausted from their ordeal, Sarah curled up in John's strong arms, seeking
the warmth and security of his embrace.
"You know, Sarah. If O'Day makes it...he'll have you to thank for it. I
couldn't have gotten this far alone."
"And I'd have been in a million pieces by now, John. I wouldn't call
that insignificant!"
Holding her close, John spoke softly..."You're tougher than I thought,
Sarah. I'm not so sure you couldn't have done it alone after all...but I
still wish you weren't here."
"I wish none of us had to be here, John...not us, not NATO, not even the
civilians that this war is destroying. But we can't just wish it away...all
we can do is take one battle at a time, and get through it."
Softly, he brushed the hair from her forehead. "You know, even after two
days without a shower, you still smell terrific."
"John! I can't tell if that's a compliment or not!"
"Believe me, Sweetheart," he said, smelling his own clothing,
"it is...the best."
Cautiously, Sarah sniffed his shirtfront. "John! Where did you get that
shirt?" she asked, her nose turning up in disgust.
"Off a Serb prisoner...I didn't have a lot of choices. He got the best
of the deal...he's wearing my 'camos' now."
"Any chance I could get you out of it for a while?" she asked, her
fingers tracing his stubble-roughened jaw.
"Here? Now? You must be kidding..." he said, the look in his eyes
saying something entirely different.
"On the other hand..." he wavered, releasing the drawstring of her
peasant blouse. "Marines are supposed to be prepared...I'm sure we could
work something out." he smiled, exposing the dusky surface of her
hardened nipples.
"John..."
"What Sweetheart?"
"Get rid of the shirt first..."
John was glad to oblige. Tossing the shirt aside, he added his pants to the
pile, his arousal evident, even in the dim light of the hay loft.
"Sarah," he whispered in the softly filtering light, "You're
the most beautiful woman I've ever known."
"Oh John," she said, her tone a hush in the silence of the barn,
"you're incredible, my love."
Silently, John lowered his head to her breast, his lips drawing her nipple
deeply into his mouth, his hand beginning a slow exploration upward beneath
the fullness of her gathered skirt.
Tentatively he probed his way around the elastic of her plain, cotton panties,
tugging them downward, releasing her body from their confines.
"My love..." she sighed anxiously, feeling the moisture building
between her thighs, "I want you inside of me..."
"You mean here?" he whispered, his fingers penetrating her moist
curls, pressing deeply within her, massaging the small hardened core of her
passion.
Silently he watched as passion transformed her features, her movements
becoming animated...aggressive.
"John! Please!" she said, as her body began to shudder, overcome
with the shattering intensity of her release.
Entering her, John placed his lips over hers, inhaling the sounds of her
release as he deployed himself between her thighs, thrusting powerfully,
deeply within her intimate recesses, his massive erection filling her over
and over again.
She felt her climax crest once more, her cries becoming more pronounced, his
lips again muffling the sounds of her passion.
Deeply he plunged... harder... faster, his body lost in the wonder of her,
caution abandoned in the wake of his thundering orgasm. At long last, they
met on the brink, their heated fluids commingling, sanity crashing around
them.
Unable to move, he lay nestled between her thighs, his weight resting on his
elbows, his manhood still imbedded deeply within her warm, wet core.
It was then that they heard the sound from down below.
Quietly, John slipped back into his pants and crept to the edge of the
hayloft, peering into the dust motes beneath them.
His face was grim.
'Stay here', he gestured, wordlessly. Then, taking a long piece of baling
wire, he crept down the ladder toward the floor below.
Ten minutes later, John returned, the muscles of his arms bulging with
exertion.
"Get your stuff," he ordered, his voice hushed and insistent.
"We need to move...there's a Serb unit coming down the road. We have to
get out of here."
Thirty seconds later, Sarah descended the ladder, John's shirt, and both of
their packs in hand. Briefly, she watched as John dragged the second of two
bodies behind a mound of bales and hastily covered them beneath a layer of
hay, two M-16s lying abandoned on the dusty floor.
"Lets go." he directed, grabbing the rifles and leading her out of
the back door of the barn. "If we can make the woods, we've got a
chance."
They were being hunted.
Their disguise abandoned, John slipped the M-16 sling over his shoulder, and
handed the other one to Mac.
"We need to find O'Day... fast... and radio for the recovery team."
he said, hurriedly taking command of the situation. "If we can make it,
there's a small strip along the Croatian border that's still under Federation
control. They can give us artillery support until my men can get to us."
"Your men?"
"Of course, Sweetheart. You don't think I would have come on this
joyride without a plan, do you? I've had three "Cobras" on standby
ever since we left. I thought you knew. Didn't Clemens tell you
ANYTHING?"
"I don't think HE knew, John. I think he figured that I wouldn't get
past you anyway."
"Well, he's right on that count...that's something he and I are going to
discuss when we get back."
"John..."
"Not now, Sweetheart. We can fight about it later. Right now, lets go
find O'Day and get the hell out of here."
Silently, they crept through the forest, following the electronic signal that
would lead them to Charles O'Day.
Finally, as they came upon a small stream, the homing device indicated that
they had arrived.
"O'Day..." John rasped into the stillness. "Show
yourself...it's John Farrow from the 24th. Come on out!"
Slowly, a pile of rotting leaves beneath a gnarled old tree began to move,
revealing the location of the young aviator.
"Oh, Man...am I glad to see you guys! They've been all over the place
looking for me. One guy almost stepped on me!"
"How you doing, leatherneck...can you make it?" John asked, his
concern evident.
"I'm not sure, Sir. I think I broke my leg when I landed. It doesn't
seem to work anymore."
Quickly, John assessed the wound. It looked bad. O'Day's makeshift splint had
caused complications, and his leg looked dark and diseased.
"Well Chuck...I don't think we're going to have time for rehab right
now."
Quickly, John slipped the young man four tablets from his pack... two
antibiotics, and two Demerol tablets to dull the pain.
"I gotta lift you now. Chuck, can you take it?"
"Anything, Sir...just get me outta here!"
Bending low, John braced the young flier across his shoulders, lifting him as
he rose.
"Sarah...we need the compass, map, rifles and the radio. Leave
everything else behind. We need to move fast and light. If this doesn't work,
we won't need the rest anyway."
Quickly, Mac grabbed all of the necessary gear, and followed John deep into
the forest.
"Keep an eye on the compass, Sarah. We need to be heading due north.
With any luck, we should be there in a few hours."
Mac rechecked their heading. "We need to keep heading that way."
she said, pointing to the right. "Keep that peak straight ahead, and
it'll keep our trajectory in line."
With that, John charged ahead, setting a grueling pace, plowing tank-like through
the underbrush, with Mac keeping watch from behind, her M-16 ever in ready
position.
Finally, three hours later they broke into a clearing, the silence filled
with the droning of flies, and the sound of faraway artillery fire.
"I think this is it." Mac said, scanning the map. "The terrain
checks out. Are you going to call it in?"
John lay O'Day in a pile of leaves, his body limp and losing consciousness.
"I guess it's now or never..." he said, taking the radio from her
outstretched hand.
Quickly, John located the correct frequency and began to transmit.
"Cobra leader...Cobra leader...this is Eagle Rescue...do you read me? I
repeat...do you read me?"
The radio crackled for a second, and then a distorted voice broke the
stillness of the clearing.
Eagle Rescue...This is Cobra Leader. I read you loud and clear. Where do you
want us, Eagle Rescue?"
John checked the map. "I need you at coordinate delta-delta-seven, like
about an hour ago. Can you get to us?"
"Roger that, Eagle Rescue. These birds are on their way. Keep your head
down, John...we're coming in."
Then the radio went dead, and the tired trio settled back into the shadows to
wait.
Barely twenty minutes had passed when they heard the rhythmic pulse of the
three Cobras entering the area, followed by the heavy staccato of rifle fire
from the woods behind.
As one of the Cobras dropped to the ground, the two others remained aloft
returning fire, keeping the enemy at bay while John loaded O'Day, aboard.
Then, making sure Sarah was secure, he dove into the helicopter himself, and
they lifted off.
June 7, 1995
Marine Headquarters
Sarajevo, Bosnia
It had been three days since their rescue. O'Day had been immediately flown
on to Aviano, and was recovering nicely. John, while his men had awaited
completion of the bridge on the Drina, had allowed himself to spend these
last few days in Sarajevo with Sarah, but their time had run out.
It was time to go.
Together they sat in John's Humvee, each unwilling to speak the words that
would send him on his way.
"Sweetheart...this time I know what you're feeling. I went down that
road myself a few days ago. I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you. I
wish it could be otherwise..."
"I know, John. This is so hard. Do you think we'd damage the Corps too
much if I kissed you...right here in front of everyone?" she said, the
tears beginning to creep down the side of her nose.
"Sweetheart...if you don't, I will." he said, his voice husky with
emotion.
Gently, John pressed his lips to hers, their farewell tacit and unspoken.
"Sarah...I want to say something before I leave. It's something I want
you to know...to remember."
Softly, he stroked her cheek, the deep blue of his eyes glistening with
unshed tears. "I think I've loved you since the day I first met you. I
never thought that at this late date, I'd find the love of my life...but I
have. Sarah...you've given me more than I could ever hope for...more than I
deserve. I just wanted you to know, that whatever happens...you're the first
woman I've ever loved...and the last."
"Oh John...you're breaking my heart." she sobbed. "Things are
going to work out for us...you'll see. You're my love...my life...fate can't
be so cruel as to keep us apart. It HAS to work, my love...we were meant to
be together."
Tenderly, he kissed her one last time, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair
as he preserved the memory of her for the long, lonely times to come.
"I have to go now, Sweetheart." he said, his voice hoarse and
rasping. Keep writing, my love. It means the world to me. I love you,
Sarah...I love you."
And with that, John started the engine and made his way down the busy main
street of Sarajevo.
Sarah watched until the Humvee disappeared into the distance. Then, closing
her eyes, she spoke to the image of him, still smiling tenderly behind her
eyelids.
"This won't last forever, my love...our time will come. Some day it will
be our turn...and we'll never have to say good-bye again."
And with that she turned...the promise of hope in her eyes....the promise of
tomorrow in her heart...and resumed the bustle of her life, until she could
once again share it with her beloved.
THE END
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