Date: Fri, 25 Nov 2005 22:05:55 -0800
From: Donald Gollihue <dromin@gmail.com>
Subject: A Sailor's Fantasy (Part 5)

	The first half of the following week was hell.  Lt. Kline and
Captain Hanson were kept busy preparing for an inspection by the General
and his team of inspectors.  They checked everything twice, fixing all
small errors and oversights discovered.  Hanson ran a tight ship, so the
task wasn't as daunting as it probably was for other departments.  But it
was still a nerve-wracking, draining experience.  All the while during the
process, the seed of a plan began to grow in Hanson's mind.
	He knew that the General was a hard man.  He also knew despite that
quality, he was a fair man.  He would give Kline and himself a chance to
explain if he were suddenly presented with blackmail material, IF he had
been warned such a thing might surface.  It was worth a try to talk to him.
	Kline and Hanson sat in the supply office.  The Lt. looked at
Hanson's face.  "Sir, I don't know."  He rubbed his stubbled head,
obviously worried.  "What if he doesn't believe us?"
	"Kline, I'm not talking about telling him everything.  I'm just
going to feel him out, find out what he thinks of Crawford."  Hanson said,
his confidence growing each moment he thought about it.  "He's a
by-the-book marine.  He'll listen to me.  I've done nothing but bust my ass
for the man."  Hanson breathed a little prayer that was the case.
	"If you think so Captain."  Kline didn't look convinced, but he was
ready to go along with the plan.  "What if he asks for details?  What
then?"
	The Captain shrugged.  "Then we play it by ear.  We can't plan for
every contingency, but we can't just keep going back to Crawford's place
every week either."  Hanson looked levelly at Kline and dropped his voice
to a whisper.  "I don't think Crawford will be happy with us just beating
each other off for seven more weeks."
	Kline flushed red and nodded.  "All right."
	"Don't worry Kline.  Let me do the talking when the General gets
here."
	Kline looked over his shoulder at the window to the door and lifted
his chin at the door.  Hanson turned and looked to see the general striding
through the warehouse trailing his entourage of assistants.
	"Here we go."  Hanson opened the door and walked out to meet
General Jamison.  Kline walked behind the Captain a few paces.
	Jamison stopped when the Captain approached.  Hanson stopped in
front of him and snapped to attention.  "Sir!  Captain Hanson reporting for
inspection!"
	"At ease."  The General's voice was smooth and his eyes showed an
astutely aware man.  He looked a bit tired though.  The week was filled
with inspections for the overworked man, and Hanson found himself glad he
wasn't in his shoes.
	"Good to see you sir."  Hanson said and meant it.  He knew this was
the man who could make or break his career.  It all depended on how he
reacted to the material Crawford had.  "We're ready for your inspection."
Hanson looked at the small crowd behind the General.  "Though, if the
Lt. and I could ask for a minute of your time alone, we'd be grateful."
	General Jamison looked at Hanson.  "What's on your mind, Captain?"
He saw Hanson look over his shoulder at the group behind him.  "Oh, all
right.  Where's your office?"
	Hanson and Kline led the General into the small office, Kline shut
the door and Hanson turned to the man and got right to the point.  "Sir,
what do you think of HM2 Crawford?"
	Jamison's face showed only the slightest change in demeanor.
"Why?"
	Hanson noticed the subtle shift in the General, but he couldn't
read it either way.  "Well sir, I think he might be ... well, I think he's
blackmailing someone in the battalion."  He said the words and saw the most
incredible poker face come over Jamison.
	"Listen to me very closely Captain."  General Jamison stared
directly into Hanson's green eyes.  "You will not pursue whatever vendetta
you have against Crawford.  He is off-limits, by my own order."  He stepped
forward until he was inches from Hanson's surprised face.  "Am I clear?"
	"Y ... Yes sir."  Utterly mystified, the Captain hastened to agree.
The General stood there, uncomfortably close for a moment longer, and then
stepped back.  He seemed mollified by the Captain's response.
	"Good."  He turned and opened the door and said just loud enough
for the others standing outside to hear.  "Good job on your space Captain.
Your inspection is complete."  He motioned to his group and they all swept
from the warehouse.
	Lt. Kline and Hanson stared after him.  "What ... what happened?"
Kline asked and turned to Hanson.  "He didn't look at anything!  As soon as
you said Crawford's name he got twitchy."
	Hanson's eyes shifted around the room as he thought.  "He was
scared."  The Captain said softly, nearly to himself.  "Yeah.  He's scared
of Crawford."  Hanson shook his head.  "Why the fuck is a general in the US
Marine corps scared of a goddamned enlisted sailor?"
	Kline had a dawning realization.  "Same reason we are maybe?"
Hanson turned and stared at Kline.  "Maybe Crawford has something on the
General?"  Kline shrugged.
	Hanson thought about it.  "No.  What he did with us would never
work with the General.  He's too highly placed."  He sighed.  "Doesn't
matter.  Either way, we're still in our situation."
	Kline came around the desk and whispered.  "What the hell are we
going to do, Captain?"  Hanson could see the worry in the larger man.
"This is just going to get ... weirder as time goes on."  Hanson knew what
the Lt. meant by "weirder".
	"Yeah.  I believe you're right." Hanson thought about Kline's
rather large penis and shivered.  "I sure want to find a way out of this
before Crawford decides we should be screwing each another."
	Kline froze.  "You think he'd make us do that?"  He swallowed and
looked at how small the Captain was.  "I ... I think that might hurt."
	Hanson laughed.  "Well, it'd sure as hell hurt one of us."  Kline's
face went beet red.
	"I would never do anything to hurt you, sir."  He looked down at
the desk.  "I have some paperwork to do ..." He went to leave the office.
Hanson could tell what he'd said had upset the Lt.  He let him leave then
he sat at his desk.
	`He'll get over it.'  Hanson thought.  He began to busy himself
with mundane tasks of running the supply department and found himself
getting more and more irritated at himself and his comment to Kline.
	"Damn it."  He tossed his pen back onto his desk.  Kline was the
only person he could talk to about the shitty situation they were in, and
now he'd pissed him off.  He sat and fumed about it for a bit.  "Why's he
got to be so damned sensitive about this?  He's a damned marine.  He's not
supposed to be fucking sensitive."  He scowled in irritation.  "I'm not
going to apologize."  He picked his pen back up and tried to concentrate on
the forms in front of him.
	After a good half hour on the same form he swore.  "Goddamn it."
He got up and walked out of the room to find Kline.

	That evening the two men sat in a local bar in Oceanside.  Hanson
sighed and made his sense of right and wrong rise to the surface.  "Look,
I'm sorry about what I said earlier Kline."  He looked down into his beer.
"I'm just really under some pressure here.  I feel responsible for both of
us and for getting us out of this." He took in a deep breath and then drank
some of his beer.
	Kline nodded.  "I know."  He frowned as he looked down at the table
in front of him.  "I can tell you're keyed up about this.  I am too."  He
squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.  "I really don't want to hurt you."
His voice was low and hushed.  "I know I would if Crawford made us ... uh,
you know."
	The certainty in Kline's voice made Hanson look up.  "How do you
KNOW?"  Hanson was amused by the blush he saw on Kline's face and the way
the Lt. stared down at the table.
	"I ... I just do."  He stammered.  Kline set his jaw and took a
firm grip on his beer glass.  "Let's just drop this, all right Captain?"
	"Come on Kline.  Lighten up a bit."  Hanson slugged him playfully
on the shoulder.  "If you want to talk about something, then talk, man."
The Captain sipped his beer and eyed Kline.  "I'm curious as to how you're
so certain that you'd hurt me with that weapon of yours."
	Kline grimaced and missed the grin from his Captain.  Hanson was
enjoying making the man uncomfortable.  For a marine, Kline seemed to be a
bit of a prude.  After a moment Kline said, "I know because I've hurt other
people before."  He looked up at Hanson.  "Every woman I've ever tried to
have sex with, I've hurt."
	Hanson stopped smiling.  "Fuck Kline, I'm sorry."  He felt like an
ass.  Then he replayed Kline's sentence in his head and narrowed his eyes.
"Wait a second.  You just said `tried to have sex with'."  Kline looked
back down at the table, redder than ever.  "Oh wow."  Hanson opened and
closed his mouth a few times then finally found the ability to speak again.
"You're a virgin?"
	Kline downed his beer and got up.  "I need another beer."
	Hanson stared after the man as he walked to the bar and ordered his
drink.  Kline leaned both elbows against the bar while he waited and hung
his head in embarrassed misery.  Hanson recovered from his shock and
convinced himself to not be an ass.
	Kline picked up the beer and paid the bartender.  He came back, sat
at the table and drank half of the alcohol right then and set the rest on
the table.
	Both of the men were quiet for a while then the Lt. spoke. "Yes."
He said, staring at his hands.  "I guess I am, officially."  He shrugged.
"I've messed around though.  Just never any penetration."  He smiled
ruefully.  "Not for lack of wanting to, that's for sure."
	Hanson wasn't sure what he should say.  He picked his words so as
to not inflame Kline's injured pride.  "It's fine, Lt." Then he laughed and
shook his head.  Kline looked over at him, wondering if he was the object
of the Captain's mirth.  The man held up his glass in a toast to the Lt.
"Here's hoping you stay a virgin, at least until Crawford is gone."
	Kline laughed in spite of himself and raised his glass to clink it
against Hanson's.  "I'll drink to that."  With a fluid motion both men
brought their glasses up and drank what beer they had left in a single
gulp.