Chapter 3

Lt. Tracy Parker was the only passenger on board the special MAC flight from Andrews to Hickam. From there, after an hour's rest, she boarded an A-2 sent from the U.S.S. United States to pick her up. It was obvious she was an important passenger. The pilot, Lt. Bobby Gates from Kerrville, Texas, was a "nugget" or Navy aviator on his first tour aboard an aircraft carrier. So was his co-pilot and flight school partner, Shelly Schlumburger, a sarcastic brunette from Amsterdam Avenue in Brooklyn. Both knew better than to pry into the affairs of the young, attractive female officer. All they knew was that she rated a special pick-up and a tanker rendezvous en route; radio silence until 350 miles from the carrier, land in one piece, and Schlumburger and Gates knew they'd be finished with their job. They both decided it would be better if they didn't know hers.

The fan-jets' loud whine in the cabin necessitated the use of intercoms and earphones. Conversation was all but impossible. So, with at least 8 hours of flying and 2 seemingly disinterested crew, Tracy decided to relax for a bit. As she balanced between sleep and drowsy awareness, her mind was on Tom.

Tomaso Anthony de Guarda was a midshipman majoring in nuclear physics when they plowed into each other on the quad final Spring session. She had just finished her class in the Napoleonic Wars and was headed back to the dorm to change for a quick run. She must have been looking at the Chapel dome when someone yelled "Look out!." A heavy thud and 2 heads banging dully, and Tracy was flat on her back in the grass. Next to her was a tanned, dark and very good-looking midshipman with his face next to hers and his right hand on her left breast, butt in the air and legs splayed. There was numb, blank consciousness in his brown eyes, and she was too dazed to realize he had his hand resting flat on her breast. But, in the instant before her mind cleared and she understood what had happened, his red-faced grin was above her and helping her back to her feet.

"I'm really sorry," he explained. "I was going back for the ball, and I didn't look behind to see you in time." He was sweaty with navy blue shorts, bare feet and cut-off T-shirt. Tracy noticed the bit of hair underneath his navel, above the elastic of his shorts and the size of the shape under the shorts as she stared at the ground in front of him. "I-I'm okay, really," Tracy stammered. She was still a little woozy from the crack on the head. She looked back up and saw that he wasn't really tall, about 5' 10". But, he was built like Van Damme; very angular with square head and broad square shoulders, a thin waist, lots of muscles, and thick weightlifter's legs. I'm Tom de Guarda," he introduced himself. He was thinking that he'd had his hand on the very nice breast of a very pretty midshipman.

Tom knew like every other midshipman who Tracy Parker was. Daughter of Admiral Parker, Navy brat, she'd been in the top 5 of her class every year at the Academy. Her talents were in history and tactics (that was good for the War College), languages (for overseas postings), and she was athletically inclined: field hockey, basketball, track, swimming. Like Tom, every midshipman knew that in their junior year, while on the summer tour, she'd saved 3 crewmen's lives when the cutter she was assigned to overturned in Alaskan waters. She'd kept them on the overturned hull for 2 and a half hours until help arrived; this, while pbattling the effects of hypothermia and exposure herself. Most intriguing of all: no boyfriend. She didn't seem to be lesbian, Tom thought as he regarded the pretty package standing before him. Tracy turned around and bent over to pick up her things. Tom admired her outstanding butt. Tracy knew he was giving her a once over; and she didn't mind too much. "Just to let you see what the real thing is like," she thought to herself. Upright again, she turned to sarcastically thank him. But, he had gone back to his friends and the softball he was chasing. Tracy was slightly miffed. Not even a pass. Tom turned and shouted "See 'ya!" and went back to his game. "Yeah, like right," was all Tracy could think as she headed back to her room.

By graduation, they were old lovers. A couple of weeks after their first encounter, they were dating; on the 3rd date there was heavy petting; on the 4th they made love. Tom remembered that water was pouring through a gutter outside their motel room; outside, it was stormy and dark. They'd been soaked through the skin when they checked in; a small place outside of Annapolis. In the dark and stuffy room, dripping wet and laughing, Tracy suddenly realized she was shivering. She was looking at Tom-his wet shirt skin-like, emphasizing every muscular curve of his chest and ripple of his torso, his head dripping wet and his smile less amusing than sexually arousing. And she started to shiver. "I'll be right back," is all she said as she headed to the bathroom and closed the door.